#also I really love his name. River. What a beautiful name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

berfgrimm · 7 days ago

Text

what’s your fantasy? | choi su-bong (thanos)

pairing: choi su-bong (thanos) x f!reader

warnings: successful!thanos au, smut, unprotected sex, oral, cheating, spanking, biting, choking, fingering, manhandling, lots of vaping, pain kink, mask kink (ghostface), name calling, voyeurism-ish (kink?), cocky!thanos, sex tape, lots of dirty talk, some moments of fluff. if I missed any, i can only apologize.

note: halloween is here seven months early! i got carried away again — this is 11.4k words. i just really like thanos and ghostface. and maybe the boyfriend is very loosely based on a real person, maybe he isn’t. mind your business. also if there are any typos i’m sorry, but i read over it like 100 times before posting, please just enjoy.

———————

You’d known Su-bong before Thanos. You met through mutual friends and immediately hit it off due to your similar interests. You became inseparable until he started spending more time with his entourage, and the Thanos persona began to form. For a while, you thought that the two of you would have made a good couple until Su-bong’s ego grew worse.

You met your current boyfriend, Shota, on a business trip to Tokyo. He helped you find your hotel when you were lost, in exchange for your phone number. He was kind and funny, so you didn’t see the harm in giving him your number. Six months into the long-distance relationship, you’ve grown to care for him, even though your opposing schedules keep you apart most days.

When you started dating Shota, there was a distinct change in the way Su-bong acted towards you. He was even cockier than you thought possible, flaunting his wealth and good fortune at every opportunity. Shota didn’t like him, and suggested that you spend less time with him, but you assured your boyfriend that Su-bong was just growing into his fame and needed friends to keep him grounded.

After Su-bong’s album went platinum, he bought a secluded, oversized home on the Han River. He’d always fantasized about having a beautiful home with more space than he knew what to do with. Having grown up watching his favorite West Coast rappers throw lavish house parties in their million dollar mansions, the ink was barely dry on the house deed before he started planning his first celebration: a Halloween party.

He hired a party planner to decorate and invite influencers that he’s never met before, all in the interest of growing his brand. You struggled with the decision to attend the party or not, knowing that you likely wouldn’t know most of the people, but Halloween was your favorite holiday and you wanted to dress up with your boyfriend.

Standing near the fireplace of Su-bong’s living room, watching a group of a hundred strangers dancing, was not the way you expected the party to go. Shota had an event in Japan that ran late and had not yet arrived, which left you as a sexy Little Red Riding Hood without a Big Bad Wolf. You were cold and a little embarrassed, hoping that Shota would show up soon.

Su-bong stands with a friend at the top of the steps by his kitchen. His Ghostface mask is pulled back from his face, resting on top of his head so he can hit his vape. You watch him nod as his friend speaks, but his eyes are scanning the room. You assume he’s in search of a woman to annoy for the night, so you look away, glancing down at your phone to check the time. 9:30. It’s still early, but your boyfriend should be here by now.

You look back towards Su-bong to get a better view of his costume. Beyond the mask, he’s not the traditional Ghostface, but more relaxed. A hoodie, jeans, gloves, and boots — all black. He didn’t ordinarily dress in muted colors, but loved to be more vibrant, that way people would pay attention to him. With this costume, he almost blends in, if not for the strands of purple hair peeking from under the hood.

When Su-bong locks eyes with you suddenly, it’s as though he felt you staring. You try to give him a friendly smile, as you normally would, but you find it harder to do. Something about seeing him dressed this way stokes the fire within you that you thought had long been snuffed out.

Su-bong smirks slowly, taking another hit from his vape before he adjusts the mask over his face again. He pulls his hood up, tilting his head to the side as he still watches you from across the room. When he carefully takes the three steps down to the living room, you break your gaze from him. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with the former attraction you had for him.

It wasn’t something you’d felt since you started dating Shota. Mostly, you had to force yourself to stop thinking of Su-bong in that way, but also you really cared for Shota. Tonight, however, with Su-bong dressed like Ghostface, you feel a sheen of sweat beginning to form.

Why the fuck do you like how he’s dressed?

You suddenly feel hot, and need some fresh air so you maneuver around the crowd to slip out the door to the garden. You cross to the railing, leaning against it to stare out at the river in the darkness. You’re able to take a few deep breaths and let the cool breeze blow across your heated skin, calming your nerves.

“Well, you look good enough to eat.” The voice is muffled by a mask, and briefly you’re confused as to who might be standing behind you, until they speak again. “Out here all alone in the night, you must be waiting for your Big Bad Wolf.”

“Fuck off, Su-bong.” You cock your arm back to elbow him in the stomach, causing him to let out a grunt that he quickly turns into a laugh. He steps past you so he can lean against the railing in front of you now, undoubtedly smirking behind his Ghostface mask.

“Did you leave your little boyfriend in Japan tonight?” he asks, looking around as if he really expects to locate him nearby.

“Little? He’s bigger than you.”

“Not where it counts.”

“Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

“This is more fun,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders when he turns his head back to you. “It’s so easy to get under your skin.” You sigh and roll your eyes, leaning your elbow against the railing.

“I’m surprised you let everyone wear their shoes in your new house,” you say, attempting to change the subject to something more normal.

“I hired cleaners to come tomorrow,” he says, with a small laugh, and you drop your gaze to the ground. “You can’t even look at me right now. It’s the mask, isn’t it?” You turn back to him, staring straight at his masked face with a shrug.

“I’m looking at you, Su-bong,” you say, blandly, although he’s right — you find it difficult to look at him without your mind creeping into uncharted territory. Su-bong tugs the mask off of his face, settling it on top of his head, the smirk on his face almost too smug.

“I saw you staring before,” he says, hitting his vape. “Is the difference that I’m standing so close to you right now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” he quirks his eyebrows, amused. “So, this doesn’t bother you?” He takes a couple of steps towards you, slow and deliberate, until there’s only about a foot between your bodies.

“Su-bong,” you say, pressing your hand to his chest to push him away, but you find yourself not trying too hard to stop him.

“I’ve never seen you wear something this short before,” he continues, ignoring you as his fingers begin to play with the hem of your skirt. “Did Little Red Riding Hood wear fishnets and a corset in the story? I don’t remember anything about her being a slut.”

Your mouth feels dry, your breath hard to catch as Su-bong speaks. You always called him a mouthpiece because he was never stuck on what to say in any given situation, but you’d never experienced this. Your instinct as someone who has a boyfriend is to tell him you’re not interested, but the nagging urges that have for him seemingly resurfaced are complicating things. You wonder how he manages to be tuned in to what your turn-ons are.

Without your protests, Su-bong’s fingers start to toy with the tulle under your skirt, creeping closer and closer to touching your thighs. Even with gloves on, the sensation of Su-bong’s hands on you makes you tense with anticipation. Your phone suddenly vibrating in your hand snaps you out of your trance quickly, and you look down at the screen to see your boyfriend’s name.

“Uh-oh, Shooter’s calling,” Su-bong teases. You slap his hand away from your skirt, your face flushing in both arousal and embarrassment. You take a few steps away from Su-bong so he won’t be able to listen to your phone call.

“Hey, babe,” you answer the call, keeping your voice low. “Where are you? Did you get lost?”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, his voice tired. “I’m still at Haneda. My…flight was delayed.”

“Oh,” you say, dropping your shoulders.

“I’m not sure how much longer it will be. I guess I should have taken the train, like you suggested.” You don’t reply, your disappointment getting the better of you. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you had the costumes ready, and you were really excited.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter.

You feel yourself getting annoyed at how his tone of voice sounds disinterested. You’d like to blame it on how tired he likely is from work, but you know he doesn’t care for Su-bong either, and would come up with anything to avoid seeing him. Sometimes, you’d like to agree that Su-bong can be a bit too much, but you were ready to put that aside for the sake of Halloween.

“I’m sure you’ll have more fun without me there,” Shota presses. “I’m tired, and wouldn’t be good company.”

“What am I without my Big Bad Wolf?”

It feels childish for you to guilt trip him like this, especially since it isn’t his fault that his flight is delayed. Still, you’re upset after you had been so excited for the weeks leading up to the party. And you hope that having Shota with you would calm the reawakened feelings for Su-bong.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Shota says, and his detached tone finally pushes you from disappointed to pissed off.

“Great,” you reply, flatly. “I’ll see later, I guess.”

You quickly hang up the call before he has the opportunity to say anything else. You clench your phone in your hand, willing it to break to get out your frustration, but you hear the crackling of Su-bong’s vape behind you, bringing you to your senses for a moment.

“He’s not coming?” You’d swear there was a brief flash of your old friend in the way he speaks, but it’s quickly overshadowed by Su-bong walking up behind you and leaning in towards your ear. “I know what will take your mind off of it,” he whispers. “Dancing. You used to love dancing…I bet Shooter doesn’t know the way you and I used to dance together.”

You picture the times you and Su-bong would hang out at clubs, drinking and dancing the night away. You were both fond of slow jams on nights where the drinks were plenty, and you would grind against Su-bong without a second thought. There were nights where you would feel him getting hard, and you were sure if he asked you to go home with him, you wouldn’t hesitate, but neither of you ever made the jump.

“C’mon, baby,” Su-bong smiles. “For old time’s sake.”

“Dancing sounds great,” you grit, turning abruptly to reenter the house, not waiting for Su-bong.

You shove through the crowd that fills the living room finding a spot where you can begin to sway on your own to the music. Su-bong slinks towards you, watching the way your body moves as if he’s fighting the urge to pounce on you. Your gaze finds him, inviting him closer towards you — he smirks and pulls the mask over his face. Su-bong creeps closer, catching you by your waist so he can keep your bodies close together as you both move to the music. You press your hands to his chest softly, trying to mostly avoid looking at Su-bong, though you‘re certain he’s locked onto you behind the eyes of the mask.

“I know you’re pissed at Shooter,” he says suddenly, his grip loose on your hips, but firm enough to keep you against him. “I know a way that we could really make him jealous. We could sneak up to my room and take a few pictures. I’ve got a king size bed.”

“It matches your king size attitude,” you retort, and you know it sounds stupid, but you have to say something so he doesn’t know the impact he’s beginning to have on you.

“A lot about me is king size, señorita,” Su-bong answers. “If you’d rather something more public, the sofa is right there and I’m sure the influencers would love a livestream opportunity. A little slut like you, ready to do anything to keep me happy, you’ll go viral in seconds.”

“You’re just full of ideas tonight,” you mutter, hoping he doesn’t notice the effect his words are having on you.

“You don’t remember that you told me all of this?” he smirks. “I’ve got a great memory.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been telling me for years about all the shit you’re into,” he says, pulling you by your hips so you’re snug against him. “How you love a man to be dominant, how you like being called names…how much you love Ghostface.” He laughs at the last part, lifting the mask from his face so you can see his eyes. “That’s only a few, but I remember everything you told me,” he smirks. “And I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to give you what you want.”

“Why?” you ask. “That’s uncharacteristically considerate of you.” Su-bong laughs, hitting his vape.

“I like a woman who isn’t afraid to get nasty for me.”

“Good to know it’s purely selfish.”

“Oh, do you need me to be more generous?” Su-bong asks, pulling his mask over his face again. “Do you need me to tell you how fucking hot you look tonight? And how I want to drag you up to my bedroom to fuck you until you’re screaming my name?”

“I have a boyfriend,” you say, maybe trying to convince yourself more than Su-bong.

“Shooter’s boring. I bet he doesn’t spank you. Remember when you told me how wet that gets you?”

The memories begin to flow into your mind again. You remember several nights with Su-bong where conversations drifted to sex. You always felt comfortable about the things you were into, and you didn’t mind sharing with your friend. Maybe there was a part of you that hoped one day he would take you in the ways you described, but he never did.

“You told me one time that you get turned on by being touched in public,” Su-bong interrupts your thoughts, his hand delving between your thighs.

“Su-bong,” you mutter, finding yourself trembling in anticipation, waiting to feel the material of his glove rubbing against you.

“Were you hoping to get fucked tonight? Is that why you wore this skirt and fucking thigh high stockings? And poor Shooter isn’t here to see it.” Su-bong slips two fingers past the side of your panties, touching your slick skin. “Or feel it,” he continues, dragging his gloved fingers through your folds, brushing over your clit. “Or…taste it.”

Su-bong begins to breathe a little harder, muffled against the mask. He bumps his head against yours, nuzzling so he can lean closer to your ear.

“I’ll bet you’d look really pretty in my bed…face down, ass up…dripping down your thighs and onto my designer sheets.”

“Jesus Christ,” you snap back to your senses and shove Su-bong away from you.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything else, knowing your voice won’t be strong enough to sound assertive. The first thing that comes to your mind is putting as much distance between yourself and Su-bong as you can before your self-restraint disappears entirely. Dropping your gaze to the ground, you shove through the crowd and make your way towards the bathroom.

Much to your annoyance, the small bathroom near the kitchen is occupied, so you quickly storm up the steps in hopes that one of the guest bathrooms is available. As you walk, you get the sense that you’re being watched, so you quicken your pace, slipping into the bathroom and slamming the door shut to engage the lock.

“Calm down,” you mutter quietly, stepping in front of the mirror to look at your reflection. “He’s just trying to fuck with your head. He’s an asshole.” You straighten out the tulle of your skirt and turn the taps on to splash some cool water on your face.

You should leave. That’s the best option at this point. Su-bong has worn down your resolve and you’re one dirty word away from falling into his bed. There’s no way you could do that to Shota because you care for him too much. Even with your current frustration towards him, he’s still your boyfriend and you’re not looking to cheat on him with one of your friends. That solves it: you’re going home.

When you open the door to exit the bathroom, your heart leaps into your throat at the sight of Ghostface bracing his hands on either side of the doorway. He tilts his head to the side, making it obvious that he’s sizing you up. You know that it’s Su-bong, but the sight excites you more than it rightfully should.

You shouldn’t play along; you should stick with your plan and just go home. But Shota never wants to play games like this. It took weeks of begging to get him to agree to the Big Bad Wolf costume, and he still managed to wiggle out of the obligation. Sometimes you wished he would like to have a little more fun. Sometimes you wish he was more like Su-bong.

You quickly try to close the bathroom door, but Su-bong shoves it open, forcing his way into the room with you. He locks the door, and spins back towards you, hoisting you up onto the counter. The way he cocks his head to the side, the empty black eyes of the mask hiding him from your view, it makes your stomach twist in an array of emotions — excitement and anticipation at the forefront, followed closely by embarrassment for how much this turns you on.

“Why’d you run away from me?” Su-bong’s voice, though muffled by the mask, is deep and dangerous. “Are you scared of me, baby?”

“No.” You try to sound firm and confident but even with one word, your voice falls short. You’re sure Su-bong smirks behind his mask.

“Then what is it? Is there something you’re hiding from me instead?”

You’re too caught up in the moment to notice that Su-bong removed his gloves until you feel his hands on your knees, spreading your thighs apart. As he slots between your legs, you look down at his hands, nails adorned with black polish, creeping under your skirt. When he touches your lacy panties, finding them soaked through, he shakes his head, tsking at you.

“Are you that fucking easy?” Su-bong asks, leaning closer towards you to press his masked face directly against your cheek. Your face heats up and tears sting at your eyes, finding yourself overwhelmed with arousal and a little bit of guilt. “You really do get off on this mask thing, don’t you? What is it? Does being afraid turn you on?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, truly unsure of what you enjoy about this. He keeps his head against yours as his fingers twist the fabric of your panties so he can rip them.

“These will just slow us down, baby,” he breathes, as the lace tears in his grasp. You whine, your thighs tightening around his waist in pure instinct — with him pressed against you, the bulge in his jeans is obvious, pressing to your wetness with enough friction to make your body ache.

“Su-bong,” you whine, your voice so needy, and you’re sure that Su-bong grins in delight behind his mask. He pries your thighs away from his hips and gets on his knees on the floor, pushing the tulle of your skirt away so he can finish ripping your panties from you.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, angling his head towards you, eyes still hidden behind his mask. You don’t realize how hard your breaths are coming out at first, but then you can hear them, echoing in the confined space of the bathroom.

You shake your head, so slight it could have looked like a twitch, but Su-bong accepts this as the confirmation he was waiting for. His head moves closer between your thighs until you feel the curved edge of the mask’s nose drag over your clit. Your body lurches in surprise, already so on edge from just talking, and Su-bong chuckles between your legs.

“Easy, baby. Don’t get too excited.”

Su-bong’s hands splay across your inner thighs so he can part your fold with his thumbs. You hear him hum softly, almost an appreciative sound, something that comes deep from his chest. He brushes his thumb over your clit, looking up at you to watch your reaction — your hips edge forward, silently begging for more.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes on the counter at your side. Against the marble countertops, the sound is much louder, echoing through the small room.

“I’ll bet that’s Shooter,” Su-bong mutters, his finger now circling around your entrance. “He feels bad for leaving you all by yourself, Little Red. Out here, where anybody could just…eat you up.”

Su-bong pulls the mask to the top of his head again, and trails the tip of his tongue over your clit, so softly that he’s barely there. At the same time, he pushes his finger into you, to the first knuckle. You let out a groan, knocking your head back against the mirror, and Su-bong chuckles, amused by how twisted up you are from so little touching.

Your phone buzzes. It feels like it’s louder this time, or maybe it’s the way your head is reeling, you can’t be sure. Su-bong teases your clit with his tongue again, applying the same amount of pressure, quick and ghostlike. You moan louder, spreading your legs.

“Goddamn,” you groan while Su-bong pushes his finger a little deeper into you.

There’s a knock at the door, and someone says your name. Your eyes go wide when you realize it’s Shota. Su-bong laughs quietly, not stopping himself from fingering you slowly. You clamp your hand over your mouth to silence the moan that threatens at your throat, hoping that maybe Shota will leave. The doorknob rattles, and you feel the panic set in.

“Hey, babe, are you okay? Namgyu said he saw you come up here, and he thought you weren’t feeling well.” You shoot a glare at Su-bong to curse his friend for sending your boyfriend after you, but Su-bong only smirks, eyes on you as he leans in to tongue you again. “Babe?” Shota’s voice comes again and now your phone buzzing for a third time against the countertop definitely gives you away.

“Fuck,” you breathe against your hand, finally shoving Su-bong away by his shoulders, so he quietly tumbles to sit on the floor. He covers his mouth to laugh silently, while you attempt to straighten out your skirt. “Yeah, Shooter, I’m here,” you call out, watching Su-bong hit his vape. ”Gimme just a second.”

You gesture to the shower, directing Su-bong to hide so you can open the door, but he doesn’t move. You give him a pleading look, hoping that he won’t do anything stupid. Finally, he rolls his eyes and pulls his mask down again as he stands and climbs into the shower, out of view. You spare one more glance at your reflection, making sure you look presentable before you open the door to face your boyfriend.

“I thought you were stuck in Tokyo,” you say, flatly.

“I was trying to surprise you,” Shota says, his tone unconvincing, like he practiced what he wanted to say.

“Yeah, great surprise.” You push past Shota, pulling the door shut as you make your way down the hall. You want to find somewhere out of view of the bathroom to allow Su-bong the opportunity to sneak out without being seen by Shota, so you descend the steps and head to the kitchen.

“Babe,” Shota calls out, trying to be heard over the noise of the party, but you pretend you don’t hear him, grabbing a water from the fridge. “I’m sorry,” Shota says, once he reaches you.

“If you didn’t want to come to the party, Shota, you could have just said it.”

“Okay, I didn’t want to come,” he says. “You’re right. But I did show up. I’m here now.” You take a sip of your water, staring at Shota as you wait for him to continue. “I don’t like Thanos,” he groans. “He’s an asshole. I don’t know why you’re friends with him. I didn’t feel like coming all the way out here for his party.”

“It wasn’t for his party; it was for me.”

“I didn’t think of it—”

“So, you lied to me instead,” you respond. “Were you at my apartment, pretending you were still at the airport?” Shota glances around for a moment, as if he doesn’t want to tell you the truth even if you already figured it out. “You showed up now…without the costume—”

“I don’t like costumes,” he interrupts, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’d be less pissed off if you would have told me the truth,” you say, looking towards the partygoers to find Su-bong talking to a girl you’ve never seen before

“You’re right,” Shota says. “I shouldn’t have lied about it.”

Shota continues to talk but you’re too focused on Su-bong and this random girl. Why would he be flirting with some stranger when his head was just between your thighs? No, of course you know why he’s doing this — his ego. He needs to be the one in control of every situation.

You watch the way Su-bong leans in towards the girl, whispering something in her ear. As he speaks, she giggles and Su-bong’s eyes immediately find yours, like he could feel you staring. His gaze is devious, and you feel enveloped by it, stuck and you can’t look away; it’s like he’s daring you to do something. The girl keeps talking to Su-bong, just like Shota still talks to you but you are locked in with Su-bong, neither of you really listening to your conversations.

Su-bong takes a hit off of his vape, finally breaking eye contact with you so he can talk to the girl again, making her laugh immediately. You clench your jaw, wondering what he could have said that was so funny.

“Are you even listening to me?” Shota’s voice catches your attention again, and you sigh, looking back at him.

“Yeah, I heard you, Shota,” you lie. “Look…maybe you should go back to my place and sleep. You’ve been busy this week…you need to get some rest.”

You give him the opportunity to tell you to come with him. Maybe that’s what you need to make you snap out of this stupid trance that Su-bong has you in. But when Shota nods his head, running his hand through his hair, you know he won’t.

“Okay,” he says. “You’re probably right. Some rest could help. And I have that event in Hyōgo this weekend…” His tone almost sounds relieved.

“Then go,” you shrug. “I’ll see you later.”

Shota nods, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek before he turns away, taking his leave. On any other occasions, the simple kiss would be sweet, a tender sign of affection that he would frequently show you. But today, it stokes the flames already flickering inside of you.

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise.” Su-bong managed to sneak up on you as you were watching Shota leave, and he now leans against the counter beside you. “I guess he wasn’t in Tokyo, huh?” You turn towards him, watching him take a long hit off of his vape, his expression more pleased than you think you’ve ever seen him. You find your gaze wandering to his mouth, watching the vapor billow from his lips. “What, do you want to kiss me or something?” He says it almost cruelly, like he’s mocking you for having the urge, but it’s all part of the game.

“No, but I’d like to slap you,” you retort.

“Mmm, I’d like that,” Su-bong chuckles, slipping behind you again. “What would it take to get you to choke me?” He reaches one hand past you to press against the edge of the countertop so he can block you against him. “What about you, baby?” he mumbles, his voice now muffled, as he likely pulled his mask over his face again. “Do you like to be choked, too?”

Before you can reply, you feel Su-bong’s hand pushing past the tulle of your skirt from behind, so you press your hands to the counter and widen your stance to give him access to you. He chuckles under the mask, pleased with how you’re reacting to him. As his middle finger pushes into your wetness, you sigh, your eyelids feeling heavy already from something so simple.

“Is this what you want?” Su-bong asks, teasing the pad of his finger over your clit, his body pressing against you. “For me to finger you in my kitchen while people watch?” Your eyes flutter open long enough to see some of the partygoers have caught on to your antics, whispering back and forth in amusement. Su-bong slips his finger inside of you, as deep as he can at this angle.

It does excite you: people watching you while you get touched by Su-bong in a Ghostface costume. You let your mind race with the thoughts of him bending you over the counter and fucking you in front of them, people pulling out their phones to record you. It overwhelms you — Shota would never touch you like this because he didn’t enjoy any public affection beyond a kiss.

“I can tell you like it,” Su-bong whispers. “You’re clenching around my finger like no one has ever touched you before. You’re so tight right now, I don’t know if you’re going to be able to handle what I’m going to do to you.”

“Fuck, Su-bong, please,” you gasp, dropping your gaze to the counter, unable to take the stares any longer. He pumps his finger into you a few times, agonizingly slow, deliberately teasing you.

“Please what? Tell me what you’re begging me for.”

“I fucking…” you gasp. “I need you to fuck me.”

“You need it, hm?” His tone is mocking, and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t aching for him. “Jesus, I barely even touched you and you’re already this desperate. Go wait in my bedroom. I’ll be up there eventually.”

‘Eventually’ should have pissed you off. It should have reminded you that you have a boyfriend who wouldn’t talk to you like that. You should have shoved him away from you and slapped him like any respectable woman would. But this was part of the game — and you like it.

Walking proves to be more of a challenge than you anticipated. You’re unsteady on your feet, your platform heels complicating things further as you very carefully ascend the stairs towards Su-bong’s bedroom. You don’t dare look over your shoulder to see who is still watching — by now, the whole party knows Su-bong has you exactly where he wants you.

When you finally reach Su-bong's bedroom, you note the flooring is carpet, so you slip your heels off to set them in the hallway before you enter. You make your way towards his bed, and sit on the edge, unsure of what to do with yourself while you wait. To keep your hands occupied, even for a moment, you untie the ribbon of the sheer hood you wore over your hair, dropping it to the bed beside you.

The music from the party below is muffled, only the bass thumping through the floor, making the silence of the room feel much louder. The room smells like his cologne and laundry soap, with a small hint of the watermelon flavored vape he’d grown fond of lately. Your hands fiddle with the duvet beneath you, fingers stroking the fabric as your mind races.

You haven’t had any alcohol but you feel drunk from the way Su-bong spoke to you, the way he touched you. It boggles your mind that he paid so much attention to all of your kinks during the course of your friendship, a far more thoughtful decision than you thought he was capable of. You think of the times when you would tell Shota the things you wanted to do, and how uncomfortable he would appear. He is a more reserved person who never seems to do anything he feels is too kinky — asking him to pull your hair was too much for him. You would never pressure him, but you also always had a nagging desire in the back of your mind to have someone to give you everything you’re looking for. Though you never expected that person to be Su-bong.

“Dreaming about me?” Your attention falls to Su-bong who leans against the doorway of his bedroom, puffing on his vape with your heels clutched in his other hand. “I found these,” he says, walking into the room and closing the door behind him. “I don’t remember telling you to take them off.”

Su-bong still stands several feet away from you, so you cross to him to take your shoes and slip them back onto your feet. He nods towards his bed and you take the hint, listening to him take the steps to follow directly behind you. Just as you reach the bed, his hands grasp your hips from behind to stop you, and urge you to bend at the waist. You set your hands against the mattress to keep your balance, feeling your ass press against Su-bong.

“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Su-bong mutters. “Getting you exactly where I want you. Having you ready to do whatever I tell you to do. Thanos’ little slut.” You clench involuntarily, and you’re happy that he can’t feel it yet — it would be too embarrassing for him to know how much you liked what he said.

You feel a loss of contact as Su-bong takes a step back, lowering to his knees behind you. He removes his gloves and mask entirely, tossing them onto the bed beside you so he can bunch the tulle of your skirt around your waist. His hands rub over your ass, thumbs briefly spreading you open to see your hole; of course your body reacts, clenching in anticipation.

“Is that where you want me?” Su-bong laughs, teasing his thumb over you. “I don’t think you’re prepared for that, not tonight. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll get you some toys so we can get you ready to take me. How does that sound?” His voice is almost too calm, like he’s unaffected by what he’s promising you. When his hand comes down hard on your ass, you yelp, your fingers clenching the duvet and your knees buckling. “Answer me,” he commands. “Does that sound good?”

“Yes, it sounds really fucking good,” you breathe, nodding your head quickly.

“Good,” he responds, one hand slipping between your thighs so he can rub along your slit. “I can’t believe your stupid fucking boyfriend saw you dressed like this and left you here. If you were mine, strutting around in a dress this short…” He spanks you again, this time harder than before, and he strokes your clit at the same time. Your body trembles and you let out a needy whine, feeling yourself growing wetter at the contact. “…dripping like this,” he continues, teasing his finger around your entrance. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Does your boyfriend know how to get you this wet? I bet he doesn’t; he seems boring.”

Su-bong doesn’t wait for an answer before he slips two fingers inside you, pumping slowly and shallowly. You groan in your throat, your head dropping and your eyes closing, his slender fingers stretching your walls that have been aching for him all night.

Su-bong surprises you by leaving a bite on the back of your thigh, making you drop down to your elbows with a moan. You rest your knee on the edge of the bed now, hoping it will support you as your arms grow tired, but this also gives Su-bong more access to you, which he greedily accepts with a growl.

“Fuck, you taste like candy,” he mutters, pressing open mouth kisses against you, licking up what he can. “Perfect for Halloween.”

When Su-bong angles his head so he’s able to press his mouth to your clit, he begins sucking on it, sloppy and wet, practically moaning against you while still thrusting his fingers into you. You whine, much needier than you expect, rocking your hips against his face, desperately needing more friction. Su-bong’s free hand strokes up the back of your calf, tracing the fishnet material, until he reaches the back of your thigh. He squeezes hard and then gives another sharp slap to your ass, causing you to buck against his face.

“Su-bong,” you whine, listening to him laugh against you. “Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back so he can leave another bite, this time on your inner thigh. “Are you begging me?”

“Yes, please.”

With another spank to your ass, making you feel how tender it’s become, Su-bong stands, checking to see that your gaze is on him from over your shoulder. He raises the front of his hoodie enough to access his belt, slowly pulling the leather from the buckle until it’s open. His fingers press to the button, flicking it open and then dragging down the zipper, agonizingly slow.

“Is this what you’re begging me for?” Su-bong asks, nodding his head downwards.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Come over here and get it.”

You move from the bed to the floor, resting your knees in front of him. You keep your eyes on him, giving as innocent a look as you can muster, while you slide your hand into his boxers to wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck,” you mumble, when you slip him from his clothes.

You clench thinking about what he’ll feel like inside of you, his size much larger than what you’re used to. Of course, he smirks at your reaction, so self-satisfied that it almost makes you roll your eyes. You notice Su-bong slips his phone from his pocket, prepared to toss it onto the bed beside his mask and gloves, but he pauses, as if he’s thinking of something. A devious smirk begins to spread across his lips as he lifts his gaze to meet yours.

“Can I?”

It takes you a moment to understand what he’s suggesting, but your stomach twists into knots when you realize; he wants to record you. All you can do is nod, beginning to slowly stroke your hand over him — you don’t know if you could even form a clear sentence with how turned on you are. In response to your approval, Su-bong grins, snatching up his mask and slipping it over his face again.

When you chance a look at him, you watch him pull the hood over his head as well, his breaths heavy. Giving him an innocent look from underneath your eyelashes, you find him peering down at you from behind his mask, aiming the camera towards you. You can hear his breath muffled against the mask, steady but every so often a little shaky.

You take him into your mouth slowly, bobbing your head over him so that he’s halfway into your mouth with your hand stroking the rest of him. You feel a little shy on camera, like you forgot how to properly give head, but Su-bong softly presses his hand to the back of your head to urge you on.

“Can you take it deeper for me?” he asks, and you relax your jaw preparing to take more of him into your mouth. “I love how eager you are to please me, baby.”

The sentence would have been sweet if it wasn’t in the tone that Su-bong liked to use — that Thanos voice. It’s smug and egotistical, like he needs his inflated sense of self to be the first thing people notice about him; he’s proud of his ego and the way people feed into it. Right now, you’re more than happy to give him what he wants.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag but fight through it, keeping him still. Su-bong groans when he feels you struggling around him, the way you try to keep him even though he’s too big, it makes his cock twitch against your tongue. You pull back quicker than you would have liked, letting out a gasp but still taking care to stroke over him.

“It’s okay,” Su-bong says, wiping the tear from your eye with his thumb. “You’ve never had to suck a dick this big, have you, señorita?” You shake your head slowly, licking the head of his cock and swirling your tongue around to catch some of the precum that leaked out.

“I like how you taste,” you admit, your free hand slipping between your thighs to rub your clit. You take him back into your mouth bobbing your head over him faster, stroking to the base of his shaft.

“Are you touching yourself?” Su-bong asks, trying to angle the camera to get your whole body in the frame. “Did I tell you that you could do that?”

You whimper around him, your eyebrows furrowing because fuck, the deep, raspy tone of his voice shoots straight between your thighs. You’re sure if you could see his face, he would be smirking at you, knowing that he has you exactly where he wants you. After a few more bobs of your head, you take him deeper again, working over him faster and moaning quietly around him.

“Fuck, that feel so good” he grits, letting out a shuddered breath. “I’ll have to train you how to deepthroat and you’ll—Jesus, you’ll be perfect.” He sets his hand on the back of your head and guides you backwards so he drops from your mouth. “Take everything off except your stockings and heels,” he commands, stepping back with his camera still aimed towards you.

Standing to your feet, you decide to put on a show for him and his camera; you unfasten the button of your skirt and let it drop to pool around your feet. When you begin to unfasten the hooks at the front of your corset, Su-bong takes a step closer to you to get a better view with his camera. His free hand slowly strokes over himself, his breath heavy in the mask. When you drop the rest of your clothing to the floor, he gets one last look at you through the phone’s camera before he stops recording and tosses it to the bed.

“Lay on your back,” he directs. “Spread your legs. Let me see how wet your pussy is now that you got a taste of Thanos.” You hurry towards the bed, far more eager than you would normally like to be and you swear you can hear Su-bong laugh behind you. “Hungry little slut,” he mutters, entirely too amused.

You settle into the bed, dropping back onto your elbows so you can still watch him, spreading your legs like you were told to do. Su-bong slowly strokes over his erection for a moment before he tucks himself back into his boxers, to your disappointment.

“Now, don’t look so sad,” Su-bong mumbles, moving closer to the bed. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He slides the mask off of his face and drops it to the bed, taking a hit of his vape again. “On your back,” he says, more firmly. “Keep your eyes up.”

You find it an odd request but when you rest onto your back, you notice the oversized mirror on the ceiling above his bed. At any other time, you would roll your eyes and mock him for how ridiculous it seems. But you’re entranced, as through the reflection, you see Su-bong crawling onto the bed, pushing your legs even further apart to give him space.

“Have you always gotten wet for me?” Su-bong asks, kissing up your inner thigh.

“Mhm,” you hum, still watching him through the mirror, your hands fisting the duvet beneath you as he gets closer to where you need him most. “When we’d dance, I’d feel you getting hard…” You say it in hopes that you could bring him down to your level a bit, however, Su-bong has no shame, and he chuckles against your thigh, leaving a bite much harder than you expect.

“Yeah, because I knew you would have fucked me at the club if I asked you,” he mutters, his tongue teasing over your clit. You moan softly, pressing one hand to the back of his head and urging him to continue — of course he lets out an amused breath of a laugh, but obliges.

Su-bong doesn’t waste time going slow; he begins to suck on your clit immediately, his fingers joining his mouth between your legs but circling your slick entrance. You nudge your hips against his face, begging him to get on with it, because you’re desperate to get off. Su-bong eases two fingers inside of you, thrusting at a steady pace but now beginning to tongue your clit, panting against you.

“Fuck, Thanos.”

You don’t mean to say it. Truth be told, you don’t even realize that you said it until Su-bong growls against you and hooks his free arm under your thigh to pin you against his face. He sucks on your clit again, his fingers thrusting faster, pushing you faster to your orgasm. You thread your fingers through his hair to give you some leverage to work your hips against.

“I’m gonna come, Thanos,” you moan, testing his nickname again in hopes that he can go even faster.

“Mhm,” he hums against you, giving you what you need.

The sloppy sound of his fingers pumping and his mouth sucking becomes the only thing you can focus on, chasing your orgasm. You claw at the back of his hoodie with your free hand, watching through the mirror so you can see yourself losing control. When his fingers curl inside of you, pumping harder, hitting that spot that’s been neglected for so long, you let out a broken moan, needy and cheap enough that you’d blush if you heard it from outside. Su-bong’s grip on your thigh begins to hurt, and you know he’ll leave bruises but the pain only gives you the push you need to reach your climax.

Your thighs tighten around his head, and you feel him moan hard against you in response, still working you through your climax. You arch from the bed, pressing yourself against him more firmly to feel every bit of your orgasm. The way Su-bong’s fingers thrust into you still, fast and hard, make your legs quake along with the motions. Each time you make contact, you become more aware of how sore you’re going to be already.

You feel him in every inch of your body, shockwaves rolling all the way through to your limbs. With Su-bong working you at the same pace, you feel yourself hurtling towards another climax that you’re not ready for. Everything begins to feel like it’s blurring and you’re worried you could pass out from overstimulation, the intensity of your first orgasm much greater than you expected. Your hands press to his shoulders, the bottoms of your heels dig into his sides, trying to push him away as you find your words.

“F-fuck, wait,” you stutter out, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Su-bong slows to a stop and lifts his gaze to meet yours, a brief flash of concern in his eyes. “I’m okay,” you pant, covering your face with your hands. “Just gimme a second.”

“That wasn’t even my best work. You must have really needed that.”

You’d laugh if you could because he’s not wrong. Shota rarely takes care of your needs; you blame it on a number of factors, like his busy schedule, your distance from one another, and how exhausted he gets from work. You don’t think he does it on purpose, but no, you can’t keep thinking about Shota when Su-bong rolls onto his back and rests his head on your thigh, watching you through the mirror as he takes another hit from his vape.

Something hits you at this moment: you haven’t kissed him yet. You wonder if it’s intentional, and maybe it’s too intimate for what you’re doing, too tender. But you watch his mouth on his vape, the way he licks his lips after he exhales the vapor…and you want to know what it feels like to be kissed by him.

“What is it?” Su-bong asks, staring at you through the mirror. “Had enough?”

“Just thinking.”

“Ah, you think too much,” he waves his hand dismissively. “You could afford to spend some time feeling instead. Get out of your head every once and a while.”

You stare at him for another moment before shoving him off of you and crawling on top of him, straddling his waist. His expression is overjoyed and diabolical at the same time, so you knock his vape from his hand so it clatters to the floor. When his eyebrows crease and his lips part, presumably to complain, you grab handfuls of his hoodie and plant a hard kiss on his lips. He groans, his hands setting on your hips so he can dig his fingers into your skin.

“I could tell you wanted to kiss me,” he mutters against your lips. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You break from the kiss completely, pressing your hands flat against his chest and grinding yourself against his cock through his jeans. He pulls in a sharp breath, then lands a quick slap on your ass while his other hand is still holding your hip.

Your hand slips between your bodies, working his cock free from his boxers again. You guide it along your slit, making sure he’s covered with your juices before finally you ease him inside of you. The moan you let out was pathetic, but he stretches you more than you expect, a distinct pain radiating through your walls.

Su-bong doesn’t say anything apart from a muttered swear once you’ve settled onto him completely, but when his eyes meet yours, you can tell he’s checking in to make sure you’re okay. You give him a small nod, and start to rock yourself on his lap, slow enough to get used to the pain. Su-bong nods, biting his lip as he lets out a satisfied groan.

Desperate to get your hands on him, you drag the zipper of his hoodie down, and he takes the hint, sitting up to remove it the rest of the way. Once his hoodie is on the floor, one of your hands gently grasps his throat, watching for his reaction. His tongue slips from his mouth, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth with a nod of his head. Your grip tightens on him,watching the way his eyes slip closed while you still ride him slowly.

“Fuck,” he grinds out, holding your thighs firmly, adding to the litany of marks he’s left on you already. “Harder.”

“Of course you like getting choked,” you tease, tightening your grip on his throat. You lean over him, planting a quick kiss on his lips, before whispering in his ear, “Are you going to choke me, too?”

Su-bong lets out a strangled grunt, and you release your grip on him, letting him pull in a few breaths. He thrusts up, plowing himself deeper inside of you so that you let out a yelp against his neck. You claim his neck with your mouth, sucking and kissing to leave your mark on him, Su-bong murmurs your name in a tone that makes your walls clench around his cock, riding him faster now.

“Why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me?” he asks, nudging your head softly with his to get your attention.

“No, I want to be on top.”

You’re testing the waters. You want to see if he likes a brat — well, maybe not completely bratty, but a little defiant. Both of Su-bong’s arms wrap around your waist, holding your body flush against his so you can’t move. You lift your head from his neck, and peer into his eyes to find them darkened, albeit a little amused.

“Who’s in charge?” he asks, quietly. You don’t answer immediately, so he spanks you hard enough to make you whine and clench around him again. “Answer me,” he asks, his voice raspier now, more insistent.

“You are,” you reply, licking your lips, unable to hide your excitement at the way he speaks to you. A smirk spreads across his lips and he kisses you, hard and rough, like he wants to claim his property. When he breaks from the kiss, you risk giving an extra bite to his bottom lip, a move that earns a growl from Su-bong.

“Get on your knees.”

You finally do as you're told, hurrying off of him so you can rest on your hands and knees facing the head of the bed. He settles onto his knees behind you, hand rubbing soothingly over your backside for a moment. You rest onto your forearms, arching your back to press yourself against him, trying to entice him to continue.

Su-bong chuckles at your eagerness, pressing his hand against your lower back as he guides himself back into you. He lets out a raspy groan, burying inside of you to the hilt and remaining still for a moment. You can hear that he’s fumbling with something so you glance over your shoulder to see him slipping his mask back onto his face.

“I’m so glad Shooter left you here for me,” he laughs, gently rocking his hips against you. “I’m going to make you mine now.”

Su-bong reaches past you to prop his phone against the pillows, pressing record when he’s sure that you’re both in the frame. He sits upright again, grabbing your hip with one hand while the other holds the hem of his shirt out of the way so he’s able to watch between your bodies as he fucks into you. You watch him through the screen of the phone, and you can’t fight the climax that starts to build inside of you at the sight of him in his Ghostface mask.

“That boyfriend of yours…he can’t do it like this, can he?”

“No,” you whine, your eyes slipping closed.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” Su-bong says, spanking you hard enough to make you moan. Your eyes flutter open so you can see him on the phone screen again. “Does your little boyfriend fuck you this good?”

“He can’t fuck me like you can,” you whimper, shaking your head. “Fuck, you’re so big.” You let out a staggered groan, your eyes slipping closed so you can focus on pushing yourself back against his thrusts.

“Yeah? You’re not used to something this big, are you?”

“No, no one has ever fucked me this deep, or stretched me like this. You’re gonna make me come, baby; please, don’t stop.”

“C’mere,” Su-bong mumbles, grabbing your shoulder so he can pull you towards him, pressing his chest against your back. “Are you going to come for me?” he whispers, his voice muffled, but the heat of his breath resonating from behind the mask’s rubber edges. “Is your pussy leaking down your thighs because this is the best you’ve ever had?”

“Mhm,” you whine, grabbing one of his hands to drag it towards your throat.

“Dirty little slut,” he chuckles, wrapping his slender fingers around your throat and squeezing just enough to make it difficult for you to pull in a breath.

“Choke me,” you beg, as Su-bong continues to thrust against you.

Su-bong grips you more firmly, cutting off your oxygen and you instinctively try to take a breath, but find yourself unable to. He fucks you harder, hitting you at a different angle with your bodies pressed together like this. You reach over your shoulder, pushing his mask off of his face, letting it fall to the floor. You scrape your nails over his scalp before threading your fingers through his hair, listening to him let out a growl.

“You should see how sexy you look,” he whispers. “You’ve got a boyfriend but you’re riding my dick like you fucking own it. What would people think if they saw how fucking nasty you’re acting for me?” You dig your nails into his forearm, and he takes the hint, loosening his grip so you can pull in a breath. “Good girl,” he soothes, wrapping his arms around your body to hold you still while he trusts.

“Fuck, choke me again.”

“You want to come with my hand on your throat?”

“Mhm, please,” you beg, nodding furiously.

Su-bong places his hand on your throat again, squeezing immediately so you’re unable to breathe. Your jaw is slack, eyes closed, your hips trying to circle against Su-bong’s hard thrusts. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before he bites down to muffle his moan.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby,” he mutters against your skin. “I’ve never had pussy this good in my life.”

You would moan if you had the air, but Su-bong’s fingers dig into your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off entirely. The sensations become overwhelming: Su-bong panting and moaning against your shoulder, the bed creaking softly beneath you, the bass rumbling from the floor below, your inability to breathe — it pushes you headfirst into your second climax of the night.

Su-bong releases his grip on your throat, allowing you to pull in a shuddered breath that quickly turns into a ragged moan. Your moans are strangled and desperate, your body quivering against Su-bong’s, fingernails dragging along the length of his arm and digging in.

“Fuck,” he hisses, still thrusting as you struggle to pull away from him, far too overstimulated. Su-bong laughs breathlessly, letting you go so that you drop back onto your stomach, with him pressed against your back. “Jesus,” he mutters, kissing along your shoulder. “You almost made me come.”

“Wouldn’t make us even,” you rasp.

“Oh, yeah?” Su-bong chuckles, grabbing his phone to stop the recording.

“Mhm,” you hum, nudging him off of you. He rolls onto his back with a grunt, his hand giving a lazy stroke over his length. “What’s wrong?” you ask, rolling onto your side and watching him carefully. “Are you too tired now?”

“You need Thanos to give you another one, señorita?” he grins, licking your slick from his fingers. You roll closer to him, taking hold of his wrist and pulling his hand towards you so you can finish cleaning his hand.

“I want you to ruin me for anyone else,” you mutter. “I want you to make it where I can’t think of you without my pussy getting wet.” Su-bong stares at you for a moment, mesmerized. You wonder if you’ve gone too far but he leans towards you and kisses you deeply, his hand resting underneath your chin to keep you in place.

“On your back,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want, my girl.”

You roll onto your back, spreading your legs, inviting him over. The grin on Su-bong’s face is clear as he kneels between your thighs, tugging his shirt over his head and throwing it to the ground before pushing himself back inside of you. He presses his hands to your inner thighs, pinning your legs down to the spread wide open for him. Su-bong presses his weight against your thighs to brace himself as he fucks into you, a steady pace, but hitting deep inside of you with each thrust. Your moans become needier, cheap, decorum long thrown out the window — it’s only you and Su-bong, and his thrusts grow faster.

“You were made to have me inside you,” he mumbles, rolling his head back as his thrusts get sloppier. “I can’t wait…to see you covered in me.”

“You’re gonna come all over me?” you whine, clenching at the thought and Su-bong’s hips stutter in response. “Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you groan, exhausted feeling the tightening in your worn out muscles. “Oh, my God, Su-bong, don’t stop!”

Your words start to jumble, your mind going blank as another climax hits your drained body. This time, it makes you tremble down to your feet, your knees pulling in around his waist of their own accord. You moan out his name, your hands clawing at his back in desperation, operating entirely on instinct.

It only takes a few more strokes of his hips before Su-bong pulls out of you as he jerks his hand quickly over his length, groaning your name over and over mixed with mutters of praise for you. As he comes, he drops his head back and lets out a loud moan into the air, echoing off the walls of his room. He finishes on your stomach and chest, panting and growling as he does.

“Fuck,” he breathes, feeling blindly at his side for his phone.

Su-bong aims the camera at you, trailing his fingers through his cum, gathering just enough to coat his fingers. He brings his hand between your thighs, pushing his fingers inside of your tender entrance. You whimper, needy and almost pleading with him because you won’t be able to handle another orgasm. Su-bong laughs breathlessly, recording as he gives two shallow pumps of his fingers before removing them altogether.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you do as you’re told. You stick your tongue out to allow him to slip his fingers into your mouth, aiming the camera at your face to film your response. You suck his fingers clean, looking beyond the phone this time, and instead into Su-bong’s face.

When he retracts his hand, he stops filming you, tossing the phone onto the bed beside you. He struggles for a moment to maneuver off of the side of the bed, nearly stumbling to the floor on his shaky legs.

“Jesus,” Su-bong breathes out, rubbing his hand over his face as he finally climbs from the bed and heads towards his bathroom. You lay splayed out on the bed, eyes closed, trying to catch your breath, completely fucked out.

You’re sure it was the best sex you’ve ever had. It was everything you’ve never gotten from partners in the past, especially Shota.

Oh, fuck — what are you going to tell Shota?

“You okay?” Su-bong’s voice pulls you back to reality, and you open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway of his bathroom, fastening his belt. He smiles, softer than he had all night, and you see shades of your friend again.

“Yeah,” you rasp, returning the smile.

“I turned the shower on,” Su-bong says, gesturing behind him into the bathroom then pointing across the room to a door. “There are shirts and boxers in the closet — you can wear whatever you want.”

“Where are you going?” You embarrass yourself with the way it sounds: needy and soft. After what the two of you just did, it feels out of place. Su-bong laughs, picking his vape from the floor and taking a hit as he walks closer to the bed.

“Why, you gonna miss me?”

“Not at all,” you quip, as Su-bong gently lifts your legs one at a time to slip your shoes from your feet, letting them clatter to the floor.

“Well,” Su-bong hums, his eyes scanning over your body. “I think Shooter is going to suspect something when he sees what I did to you.”

You don’t bother to look, knowing that you’re likely littered with bruises, bites all over your inner thighs, and your ass red with Su-bong’s hand print. You instead keep your eyes on Su-bong, noticing the mark you left on his neck; it makes you grin knowing that he let the Thanos facade slip just a bit for you.

“You can stay in here tonight,” he says, picking his shirt off of the floor and tugging it over his head. “I’ll clear the party out and come back in a little while.”

“What, are you going to come back to cuddle or something?” You say it to mock him gently in the way that he does to you, keeping in line with how most of your conversations go. But there’s a part of you that wants him to be soft to you — needs to feel him holding you. Su-bong smirks, pulling a lollipop from his pocket and slowly peeling the wrapper off.

“Is that what you want me to do?” he asks, still managing to make his voice sound cocky even while talking about something gentle. “Hold you and kiss you like I’m your boyfriend or something?”

“I guess it would be okay,” you reply, a faint smile on your lips. Su-bong slips the lollipop in his mouth, nodding his head.

“Then don’t worry about putting any clothes on when you get out of the shower,” he says, walking towards the bed. “I’d rather you sleep naked.”

He places one knee on the bed so he can lean over you, pressing his hands to the mattress on either side of your body. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, simply stares into your eyes — his gaze is softer than you expect but he still hides some mischief behind the gentleness.

Su-bong pulls the lollipop from his mouth and licks his lips, dripping his head down to kiss you. It’s not soft like you’d expect after the way he was looking at you, but it isn’t rough either. He kisses you like he may not have another chance, deep and passionate so you can taste yourself on his tongue, mixing with the sweet raspberry flavor of the lollipop.

You feel like you could stay there forever, like this is where you belong: kissing Su-bong after he fulfilled almost every single desire you’ve ever had. Your body still trembles softly from the intensity of your interaction with him, goosebumps breaking out over your body. But your mind flashes to Shota, at your apartment wondering where you are. You feel shame start to wash over you, your thoughts beginning to push away the aftershocks of your multiple orgasms.

“Mmm,” he hums, breaking from the kiss to lock eyes with you again. “I can feel that you’re thinking too much.”

“What am I supposed to tell Shooter?”

“Whatever you want,” Su-bong replies, with a shrug. “Here, this will give you something to play with while I’m gone.”

Su-bong holds the sucker between his teeth by the stick, bracing himself above you with his hands against the mattress. He leans down enough for the candy to be just an inch from your lips so you lock eyes with him as you stick your tongue out and lick the sweet. The expression in his eyes is elated, like it won’t take much for him to be ready for round two. Though the thought of fucking Su-bong for the rest of the night makes your heart leap into your throat, your body is far too exhausted to do anything else tonight. You take the sucker into your mouth and Su-bong releases the stick from between his teeth.

“Just break up with him,” Su-bong says, standing from the bed and picking up his hoodie to pull it on again. “It’s never going to get better than where it is right now.” He spares one more glance towards you, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips. “But us?” he says, gesturing between himself and you. “We haven’t even scratched the surface, my girl.”

#choi seunghyun x reader #x reader #t.o.p x reader #choi subong x reader #squid game imagine #thanos x reader #x reader smut

407 notes · View notes

azullumi · 6 months ago

Text

WHERE WE LIE ON THE EDGE OF SUMMER !!

premise— you didn’t think that being neighbors and childhood friends with scaramouche would come with many things. for one, you have a sassy loser pathetically in love with you. content tags & warning — pairing: scaramouche (w/ gender-neutral reader) | modern!au, childhood friends, puppy love, scaramouche can’t skip stones, secret pining (for scaramouche), scaramouche words of reassurance and act of service advocate, fluff, word vomit, unspoken confessions | wc: 4.8k ; one-shot

notes from a jellyfish — (repost) first fic for the eat your heart out event!! nearly lost my mind writing this, but enjoy!!

SCARAMOUCHE is a liar.

No truths spill from his mouth, that much is certain.

He could never understand how poets write the beauty of a single sway of grass in the wind nor see how artists condense a single moment into a small stroke of a brush and find it breathtaking when it will all be bound to rot, but he tells others that he does anyway because he is a liar.

His words would bloom withered in his mouth, a shameful garden of ache, and the petals would never feel the lingering warmth in his lips.

But he never liked the heat, the suffocating warmth, always preferring the winter cold. But it was summer when he first met you and he remembers your laughter as you threw pebbles across the water, your smile gently shaped by the warm sun.

i. standing in between here and there

“Are you okay?”

There was only a grimace of annoyance on his face when you turned to briefly look at him.

It was summer once more and Scaramouche dreaded summer more than anyone could, much more so now that he’s spending this hot day with a stranger—a child of his aunt’s friend, who is also their neighbor. The combination of sitting under all this heat and being forced to get along with someone he doesn't know is deadly. He can't even remember what their name was. Perhaps they had uttered it once only for it to be lost among the pebbled path or to be drowned in the river.

He raises his eyebrow at you, “Is it not obvious enough?”

“What’s with this sassy lost child? Jeez.” You mumble more words underneath your breath, something along the lines of him being grumpy. The summer breeze brushes across your skin as you stare at the river, contemplating. Perhaps you were debating if this stone will reach farther than the frog who jumped across just now, or maybe you’re just thinking of the boy—who your mother had asked you to get along with—sitting silently on the grass behind you since earlier.

You throw one stone over the water. It bounces once and twice, the surface responding with small ripples, sliding across before eventually sinking. You do this many times and he watches you every single time, eyes seemingly unable to look away. But curiosity is a hungry monster that consumed him, so he speaks to rid of the itch that claws at his throat:

“What are you doing?”

“Stone skipping,” you paused, witnessing the stone jump only once before reuniting with its old friends at the bottom of the river, “wanna try?” You blink at him, waiting for his answer. There was silence then came a grumble. He stood up from his seat with an expression that makes it seem like you forced him to do so.

You handed the boy a pebble, but he had to stare at it for a few seconds before he took it from your hand. You waited with an expectant gaze, your mind somehow anticipating that he’ll do better than you—Scaramouche looks like he’s good at everything that he does.

Oh, but how your expectations came crumbling down the way your breakfast cookie fell into your glass of milk.

“Go on, throw it.” You had told him and you didn’t know that he was that much of an obedient child because he really did throw it. Just not aimed at the water. He threw it like how one would pass a ball to a friend; his stone didn’t even graze nor come near the surface of the water.

But Scaramouche had the same perseverance of a rock against the wind. He picked up a pebble and threw it once more; this time, it is now aimed at the water but it only went straight ahead, sinking slowly to the bottom.

You don’t think you’re in the right time to say anything, so you just stood still and watched the struggle of a young boy who had a small stone in his hand, with the occasional rustling of leaves as the breeze passes and with the sound of a splash prodding at the silence that envelops you like a familiar companion. You wanted to go and teach him how he’s supposed to do it, that there is a certain angle that he has to reach and he’s not supposed to throw it just as it is, but your mind seems to tell you not to so you didn’t. It’s all quite a spectacular watch, after all, it was as if you were watching your favorite show at 7 PM after waiting hours for it to go on air.

No matter how many times Scaramouche tries to throw and make the pebble bounce across the river, it always just sinks the first time it comes into contact with the surface. He’s silent, but the frustration is evident in the scrunch of his eyebrows and the increasing aggression in his movements.

“Oh, wow, you’re terrible at this.” You were the first to break the silence—your words seem to have stabbed his unyielding spirit as he groaned and just went back to where he was sitting. An act of surrender after struggling for so long.

”You don’t want to try again?”

“Why should I?” The pebble will only sink anyway. What’s the point of doing something when you know you’ll fail in the end?

“Come on, just try it once more.” But you were a stubborn one and Scaramouche doesn’t have much of a choice, not when you’re already right in front of him, taking his hands into yours and pulling for him to stand up. You drag him back to where he was earlier, still holding one of his hands even as you pick up a pebble right at your feet.

“Here, do it like this.” Your hand is warm against his, gentle, in contrast to the crumpled look on his face. You guide him, saying words that he can’t process that much as he’s way too focused trying to fan the flames that danced across his cheeks.

He throws, in the same angle and form that you have guided him into before you had stepped back to watch, holding hope that he’ll succeed this time in the same hand you held him. The stone doesn’t immediately celebrate with his other failed attempts at the bottom as it bounces against the surface.

You cheered, the sound of laughter slipping out of your lips as it seemed to tickle the insides of your mouth the more you held it in. There’s a certain feeling of warmth that washed over him when the melody rings inside his head. The roughness of the feeling, sharp in its unfamiliar edges, is akin to a huge wave that crashed into his form, but the comfort of it as it submerges him reminds him of the afternoon light shining on the floors of his home.

“It only bounced once.” He says, trying to downplay it all to get rid of the feeling that consumes him.

“But it did. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” The feeling only seemed to grow stronger as if it’s feeding on your every word, being fuelled by your gaze, by your smile, by the sound of your voice. He tries to drown it all by thinking of other thoughts, diving into a different topic instead, and all the while, copying you as you resume your stone-skipping activities.

“Do you not get bored doing this?”

You hum, contemplating for a few seconds before you answer: “I think everything is a little more fun when you do it during summer,” you beam at him, then return your gaze back to the river before you throw, “Like this, especially when you’re doing it with someone.”

To be honest, he doesn’t even understand what you’re saying. This childlike mindset—although, for one, you and him are just a pair of children, playing beside the river, feeling the heat prickling against your skin. The bugs only grow louder in each second that passes as the afternoon slowly comes to the pass, replaced with the onset of the evening. The sky is painted with various colors mixed together but all in harmony, oranges and reds mixed with something golden, tainted with purples.

And yet, he would always ask himself, what is even nice about summer?

“I don’t know why but maybe I’m just saying that because I like summer,” you say as if you had read his mind, as if you had noticed the lingering question on his face that asks you why. “Do you like summer?”

It takes him a moment to answer, letting the orchestra of the wind against leaves, of the stone splashing against water, of the cicada’s song last longer than his silence. He could have said no, he could have disagreed with you and argued with your answer. He could have said that he despised summer for its heat and bugs. But he didn’t and that was the problem.

“I… like summer.” There are razors in his tongue as he speaks, the utterance of the sentence making him bleed internally as he bites on his words. Perhaps the hesitation in his tone betrays his words or perhaps it was the twitch of his lips paired with the contort of his forehead that made it appear as untruthful as it actually was.

Even so, you were convinced. You gleam at him, eyes bright with excitement: “Really? You don’t seem to be one to like summer.”

“I do, why would you say that?”

You shrug, “You just seem like a winter person to me.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, that was the whole truth and the actual lie was him saying that he likes summer. He still doesn’t understand himself for saying such words—maybe it’s the heat getting into his head or maybe it's the sound of your laughter that plays over and over inside his mind.

It feels like having a crush—He slaps himself mentally at the notion.

“We should always spend summer together then.” You’ll say, watching a pebble bounce across until it reaches the other side. A feat you have only achieved twice—the second time being this moment. You silently rejoiced for your success, clenching your hand into a fist.

He responds, “So we could just watch stones bounce on water the whole time?” and this made you chuckle before you refute: “Unless you want to, but there are tons of other things to do during summer.”

This went on and on: you, just listing out whatever activities you could do and saying whatever, and him, who listens to every word you say and would give you short responses. It is not until dusk had ended and the evening came, and now, you’re standing by the doorway, saying your goodbyes to the boy who’s terrible at stone-skipping.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“I do.”

You laugh, “Liar.”

ii. take a step closer, won’t you?

Summer came to visit like an old friend you had known for years.

It’s a fleeting companion, a familiar stranger bound to disappear, gone as the wind carries your scent. The sun kisses your skin very delicately, the grass will hold your being as if you were its own child, and you will miss its embrace the moment it slips out of your hands quietly. But there’s a strange comfort welling up in your heart knowing that you will feel it once more in time and you won’t have to spend a lifetime missing it—or him.

“What are you being so slow for?” The dark-haired man stops from his track and turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed into a frown. “The sun will set before we even reach the river.” It’s the mayor of complaintown, throwing his usual complaints at you. You could only roll your eyes before you run to him, catching up to his pace before the two of you resume walking.

Scaramouche, somehow, kept his promise. Although it’s not exactly a promise because the two of you didn’t make any, he did keep his word of spending every summer with you. And right now, you’re in the middle of walking through the forest near your home—an adventure, you may say, despite the fact that you have taken this path multiple times already and you’re just returning to the place where the two of you usually spend your moments under the summer sun.

The gentle murmurs of the rushing water reach your ears, eventually getting louder as the two of you draw close to your destination. Not sooner than later, a familiar scene comes into view: the small river—a stream, to be exact—in all its glory displayed before you, a path of water stretching from here to there across your line of vision, carrying memories of when the two of you played around it.

There’s a small smile embedded on your lips. It’s the thought that it's only the two of you that knows of this place that makes you warm—it’s like a secret place for you and him.

You come close to the body of water, crouching down, staring at your rather unclear image by the water, and making out the contours and edges of your face. You try to reach out to your reflection, disturbing the surface with the tip of your fingertips, and you watch as it ripples underneath your hand. Although you’re way too focused on whatever you are doing that you forgot the existence of the boy who came here with you.

“Are you just planning on staring at the water all day long?” Scaramouche says as he crouches down beside you. He speaks as if he didn’t spend his time staring at you, admiring the way the sun holds you in its embrace, while thinking that he could just look at you for hours without getting bored.

You hum, “I really don’t know what else to do now,” you draw something on the water, the surface coming in creases.

“I thought you said there are a lot of things to do in the summer.”

“Yeah, but we already did nearly all of them.” You grumble, turning to look at him with a troubled expression. Indigo orbs meet yours in a gentle gaze; Scaramouche’s gaze, tender and soft, doesn’t often match the harsh bite of his words. It leaves you wondering, confused, if this is just his way of showing that he cares or if there’s something more. But you don’t like thinking about it—fools base their thoughts on foolish assumptions, and you are no fool.

If only you know what festers underneath his skin. Looking at you like this, honey light against your skin, he thinks you’re beautiful—the word isn’t even enough to capture the essence of your being. The world seemingly held its breath for this moment as everything came to a still except for the wind that brushes against your face. He is foolishly and utterly starstruck by the existence of you, as if you were meant to be in this place, to experience this small, fleeting moments with him, to be bathed under sunlight, to breath in the air of your surrounding, the feel the coldness of water against your feet—to live.

There's you and his mere image being reflected by your eyes, and he tries to see into the waters of your gaze for something that is akin to the just adoration he holds for you, hoping that you hold him under the same light too. He may speak of words that hold no meaning, no truth, but his feelings for you are intense and unwavering that it consumes him. Won’t you pull him a little closer?

You break the stillness, your surroundings seemingly coming back to life with the sound of your voice: “What are you thinking now?”

“Just how stupid you look.” The boy answers. Liar.

You acted as if you were offended by his statement, letting out a gasp and even placing your hand over your chest to show that you were quote on quote, hurt. He only rolls his eyes at your performance.

You jest, “Why are you so grumpy? Do you just hate being with me?”

“Stop assuming things, I didn’t say anything like that.” His attention is now to the river, watching as the stream flows and as the rocks remain unmoving.

You grab this moment to take advantage of his vulnerability and inattention. Snickering, you scoop a handful of water before splashing it to him, drenching him in the process. At the sight, laughter bubbles from your throat—he reminded you of a wet chick.

“So we're playing this game?”

“You started it.” You grin, splashing him once more but this time, he was able to shield himself from your attack.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Cold!” You exclaim as he repays you the favor.

It became a battle between you two. You’ll splash him with a handful and he’ll only retaliate after like two or three of your attacks, and even so, he’ll only fight back with only so little. Nevertheless, water drips from your head, down to your face and he, too, is left there on the side of the river with you, completely drenched and with his clothes sticking to his skin. His gaze is on you and yours are on him, and the two of you break into laughter—you think you’ll remember the sound of yours and his tangled together forever.

For a moment, it felt like the two of you were children once more.

“Ah, now we’re both wet.”

Scaramouche flicks your forehead, earning a groan from you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours, duh.” You sneeze as soon as you finish your sentence. Scaramouche doesn’t fail to notice you tremble, hugging your knees close to your chest as if to quell the growing chill.

He abruptly stands up, and you watch him as heads over to where his bag is. He’s been carrying that since earlier and you’ve been curious as to what it contains—you didn’t get the chance to ask him earlier but now, your question is going to be answered.

You follow after, standing and peering behind him to see the contents. Your eyes are able to make out a water bottle and some snacks—were those your favorite?—among the pile of things. Albeit you didn’t get to see anymore of it as he turned around and placed something on top of your head, obscuring your vision.

You realized it was a towel when he started to gently rub your hair and the side of your face with it, drying you with the soft fabric.

“I didn’t know you had that much prepared.” You comment, letting him seemingly take care of you. Sometimes, it feels like you’re indebted to him with how much he looks after and cares for you. It feels unfair; you take so much from him and he never takes anything from you. He never lets himself indulge, settling on here and there, but never by you. You wish he would come close, he wishes you’ll hold him closer.

“I think we’re going to get sick after this.” You ask with worry lacing your tone; the water was cold and none of you brought any spare clothes, save for the towel he had prepared. And while he’s the one who got drenched the most, he’s here, focusing on you instead.

(You’ll always find yourself being bathed underneath all of his attention, whether you notice his gaze or not.)

“You’re the only one getting sick between the both of us.” He answers, draping the towel all over your shoulders before he goes and takes out a smaller towel to dry himself. There’s a small pout on your face when you hear his words—you can’t say anything in retort.

“Are we going home now?”

“If you want to, that is.”

The sun is already setting and darkness is slowly creeping into the day as time passes. Your surroundings are dyed with a warm golden, fading into blue. The animals that dwell in the night are revealing themselves as the ones who thrive during the day are returning to rest. Eventually, you also have to go home too. Exhaustion has seeped into you, settling into your weary bones.

“Can you carry me?”

“What? Can’t you walk on your own?”

“Oh, please, almighty Scaramouche. My legs are hurting and I’m tired.” Your hands are clasped together as you speak, batting your eyelashes at him.

Scaramouche could have complained a little more, dismissed your request, and walked back on his own, but he didn’t. And it’s not like he did not want to, but he just could not. How could he ever deny you? You were all that he could ask for, you were only asking him for one thing. Rejecting you at this moment was just like turning away from you—even though he knows that you’re most likely bluffing and are capable of your own.

(But, oh, he’s simply nothing without you. After all, you make up half of his soul even if he’s not even a fragment of yours.)

“You’re so troublesome.” You’re his favorite problem anyway.

Dusk is settling in the corners of the forest, and in the midst of the trees and along with the harmony of cicadas, is you and Scaramouche. The dark-haired man carries you on his back while you keep him occupied with your chatter of whatever that comes to your mind.

And just as he notices every small thing about you, you can’t ignore the dark hue his skin is painted in:

“Your ears are red.”

He takes a few seconds, mumbling, “It’s too hot.”

(Maybe it’s summer that is warm, or maybe it’s you.)

The next day, however, Scaramouche got sick and you had to nurse him back to his health—out of worry and guilt. Although you held that fact over your head, treating it as some sort of trophy.

iii. aren’t we already close enough?

Something knocks at Scaramouche’s window.

That’s how most horror movies start, but this is no horror movie, and it doesn’t take much for him to know that it was just his neighbor trying to grab his attention.

Another knock came. He heads towards the noise, pushing the curtains aside, and immediately seeing you across in your own room, standing by your open window. Upon seeing the man, you enthusiastically wave at him.

You mouthed, even doing some hand gestures to throw your message across to him: “Do you wanna watch the stars with me?”

It seems like he didn’t understand what you were trying to say as he only stares at you with a confused expression. You sighed and gestured for him to wait, disappearing from his line of sight for a moment before returning with a pen and paper in your hand; you scribble something on it and he watches you with a curious gaze.

With your words written by ink, a few of it crossed out, it reads: Let’s go stargazing.

He mouths, “Right now?” In which you responded with a nod and a smile. Then you return to your pad in hand, turning to new page before writing:

There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Let’s watch it together.

Scaramouche puts down his reply on his paper that he has gotten as you were writing.

Where?

The forest has a small clearing, it’s perfect for stargazing.

Right, and why are we talking like this?

It’s more fun this way and I don’t want to wake people up.

So, do you wanna go???

Okay. Yeah.

YAY !!! I’ll meet you outside.

But just as you were about to leave, he threw his pen at your window, an attempt to grab your attention although he did end up startling you.

It’s cold.

Wear something warm.

You beam at his display of his concern and give him an ‘Okay’ sign.

A few minutes flies by and you come out, jacket in hand. A certain man, with hair as dark as midnight, greets you. He’s clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, layered with a jacket on top—he was dressed comfily, as if he were planning on sleeping prior to this.

“Were you planning on going to sleep?”

“I was, until you called.”

“You could have just turned me down. I don’t mind watching the meteor shower alone.” You feel guilt rising in your chest, looking down at the ground you were rooted on. Thoughts whirl like a hurricane, creating a vortex of doubt that wreaks havoc inside your head. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, feeling all of these all at once over a simple and small thing. You were the one to insist, always the first one to come barging into his door.

But somewhere between your thoughts and his own, between loving you and adoring you, he knows you in ways that no one could. You’re the only one he ever knows.

“You’re not bothering me,” Scaramouche ruffles your head, messing up your hair. He speaks in the same note of his touch, soft and gentle, and it feels foreign and familiar at the same time; you want this, you could get used to this—the small thought that remains inside your mind echoes as he dispels all of your worries with just a few of his words. “Besides, I also wanted to watch the meteor shower.” With you.

“Really?”

“Where’s the stubborn and strong person who’ll drag me out of my room every summer that I know?” He flicks your forehead, making you wince and rub the spot to ease the pain. He adds, a small smile etching into the curves of his lips, “You were the one to say that everything is better when you do it with someone.”

“Well—”

“There’s no need to worry over such useless things,” He heaves out a sigh, “If I hated you, you would have known.”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have his hand seek out your face, caressing your face so tenderly like a lover would. The dance of his fingers left a trail of warmth across your skin, blooming and spreading like fire, and maybe it was your fault or maybe it was his that your face leans closer to his touch as if desiring for more of his softness. He doesn’t fail to notice the look on your face, the fire that festers within you spreading to him.

Scaramouche is mesmerized by the miracle that is you.

He clears his throat, looking away, afraid that he’s going to be consumed by your light the more he keeps his gaze on you:

“Let’s go before we end up missing it.” His tone falters into something sweet, and his hand, too, falls into something kind—his fingers slipping into your own. You could only nod your head in response, afraid that your words would break in your tongue before you could even speak.

It doesn’t take long to reach the spot you were talking about. But it did feel like time moved slowly with the silence as neither of you let go of each other’s hand; you battled with your reasoning, thinking that it will help you walk better in the dark and not trip over anything even when you’re already familiar with the path. Or maybe it was just too cold, you don’t know; it’s not like you want to let go either.

(And in the same cadence of your thoughts, his soul whispers to you: “I don’t think I want to stop holding your hand.”)

Tonight, the stars are a witness to the wake of something foolishly beautiful. As the streaks of light fill the sky like a stroke of a painter’s brush on an empty canvas, lush grass forms into nothing as it sinks beneath your being, intertwined with his as he clutches your hand tight—the sky holds the stars as the earth bears your weight all the same. When the warm breeze leaves and when life all becomes nothing in the absence of indigo merging into golden, can you stand with him a little closer underneath the fading warm?

“Kuni.” What does his name taste like in your mouth?

“Hm?”

Scaramouche isn’t stupid, but you make him feel stupid, and he loves you stupid, like a loser stumbling over the stars in your eyes. He understands why poets write the mundane and how artists portray a fleeting moment bound to rot by time. It doesn’t take much but he spent a long time seeking comfort in the warmth to know the answer—he knew what it was when he wished you were with him to enjoy the sun.

You reside in the deeper parts of his soul, tangled in the loose threads of his being. Scaramouche prays—even when he doesn’t necessarily believe, but what is a god’s gaze for your love?—to whoever is listening that you’ll stay there forever. Can a human ever stop their heart from wanting?

“Don’t you want to go home now?” You had asked him; the meteor shower has finished and the clouds are already hiding the vast blanket of stars above you. There’s not much left in this night, just silence and a pair of people who had nothing and everything at the same time, lying on the grass as if they’re the only ones who matter in the world. He has always existed right there beside you and he has belonged to you in ways that you may never know.

“I’m still not sleepy yet.” But his mouth gapes into a yawn and you laugh.

“Liar.”

Call him whatever you want, he just wants to stay with you a little longer.

Scaramouche may be a liar.

But he likes you, that much is certain.

taglist: @felibrary, @yunicide, @bittersweetmiko

489 notes · View notes

f1cflcfic · 2 months ago

Text

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris): Epilogue

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. also, this chapter contains some (implicit) references to sex.

genre: social media au (with written parts), angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: hehe it's never really over, this is for my bff who just got engaged over the weekend <3]

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

June, 2027

[Excerpt from Y/N L/N's Buzzfeed Playing with Puppies Interview]

Y/N is sitting down on the floor, enthusiastically chatting to someone off camera. “Listen Roz I’m so serious, you’re going to have to physically incapacitate me when I want to take them all home. It will happen, and you will need to stop me.”

Someone from the crew giggles, as they instruct Y/N to readjust her lavalier microphone.

“Alright, so it’s super easy – you just sit there, and we bring the pups to you!”

“Oh my god. This is my dream. I always say to my friends that I’d just really love to be in a puppy pile, and it’s finally happening. The pinnacle of my career. This is why I became a singer,” she chatters, then gasps as the first puppies are brought out.

“Oh hiiii,” she almost whimpers at the sight of them, some a little more active, others a little sleepy. One immediately snuggles into her lap, and Y/N looks off-camera to someone meaningfully. “I am taking him home.” Someone can be heard laughing and saying “no, you can’t” in response, to which Y/N sighs in defeat.

“So, can you tell us who you are, and what you do”

“My name’s Y/N L/N, and I’m a singer-songwriter. But today I’m a professional puppy cuddle buddy.”

“Here’s your first question – you mentioned recording a song in Taylor Swift’s studio for the Prophecy. What does it look like?”

“Oh my – oh they smell so good I swear, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear a word you said.” The interviewer repeats the question, as Y/N tries really hard to maintain eye contact with them instead of the puppies roaming around her.

“It’s a really beautiful space, a sanctuary, really. And it’s just amazing to think that so many iconic songs and albums have been partially written and recorded there as well. Taylor is a wonderful friend to have in this industry, and – oh just look at this little guy. He’s so cute!!!”

“Second question: You’re in the middle of a world tour right now. What was your own first tour that you remember going to?”

“Oh look at this one, he’s just playing around, such a little goofball. Sorry, sorry – the question. My first concert? You know it was probably some type of children’s act? My parents aren’t super into music, so the first time I went to see someone and paid for the ticket myself, it was probably Taylor actually.”

“Third question: You said you’re into reading. What’s your latest recommendation?”

“I try to read, yeah! It’s so easy to get sucked into my phone, but I always bring books and an e-reader. Oof, careful little guy, those tiny teeth are sharp,” she disentangles her finger from a puppy’s mouth, then hugs him close to her chest and kisses his head. “I love you, don’t worry. So, yeah, what was I saying? I think with reading I’m always in two minds about it. I enjoy literary fiction, but I also love fantasy. So I recently started There Are Rivers in the Sky from Elif Shafak, and then I’ve been re-reading the Fourth Wing series by Rebecca Yarros. Love that dragon. Maybe we should name you Tairn, or Xaden,” Y/N points at a puppy with dark fur and brown eyes.

“Do they all have names already? All of them are up for adoption, right? But surely these personalities – ah okay. His name’s Lewis?” She smiles cheekily, but doesn't comment further.

One of the dogs lets out a pitiful little whine, and Y/N immediately looks down. “What’s up little pup? Are you unhappy? Can we get them some water, some snacks?”

Someone steps in with a bowl of water, then asks the next question. “What’s something you do to relax on your days off?”

“Hmm aside from reading? Honestly, I love to just hang out with my family. Go do minigolf, something fun together.”

“Not actual golf?”

Y/N snorts, her fingers absentmindedly petting the puppies that have since fallen asleep in her lap. “My partner has tried to get me into it, and I love how much he enjoys it, but it’s not for me. So I’ll happily drive the golf cart and cheer him on instead.”

“Are you not competitive?”

You scrunch your nose at the word. “I think I am, but I’m more scared of others thinking I’m not good enough – so then I abandon serious pursuit of victory. If it’s just a laugh, then it’s fine if you’re not great at something. It’s something I’m working on!”

She kisses one of the pups that’s woken up from its nap on his tiny nose. “I love you, you, you’re such a tiny little angel aren’t you?”

“Alright, next question: If you were in an emergency situation, who would you call to bail you out?”

“Probably Lando. He’d be fast, you know?” Y/N smiles at the camera. “By the way, he’s going to be SO jealous of me for getting to hang out with pups all day.”

“If you weren’t a singer-songwriter, what do you think you’d be doing?”

“Hmm, I’d probably have gone to university – maybe literature, or maybe political science. Then I’d go work for an NGO? I’d love to know I was making a difference in people’s lives I think.”

“Last question – what are you most looking forward to?”

“Aside from the new, upgraded tour? I can’t believe I’ll be playing stadiums. That feels very surreal. Apart from that, we’re getting some renovations done on the house right now and I’m super excited to see my library fantasy come to life. I want to have a ladder on wheels.”

You quietly stroke the fur of a red and white puppy that’s been curled up in your lap since the beginning. “I’m going to cry having to give these back. But I’m going to, I will. It’d be irresponsible to adopt a dog right now, maybe next year we’ll get on that. Please, if you are able and willing, adopt these sweet little puppies – and I will personally come by and hangout with your pup and you.”

The screen fades to black, and then there’s a shaky camera that follows Y/N as she laughs while talking on the phone. “I know! I said you would,” she’s overheard saying. “There’s one in particular, I just – ” she trails off, listening to whatever’s being said on the other end of the line. “Do you really think so?” Her smile widens. “I love you so much, you have no idea,” she nods excitedly at her assistant and starts walking towards the animal shelter representative. “Yeah I’ll keep you posted, say hi from me to your brother and Sav please. Ok, see you. Bye.”

August 14th, 2027

December 8th, 2027

June 18th, 2028

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts & access various bonus content by going here

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile @screamingwines

174 notes · View notes

kimingyuslover · 2 months ago

Text

You once mentioned his group name, and now he's down bad for you. The worst part? his teammates seem to always tease him about it, but the best part? you answer his message.

★ okay, so finally, the third part (i only have ideas at night, but i sometimes can't be a night owl)

previous | next | main masterlist

YOU MAKE ME WANNA MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Saturday, 14th December 2023

Seungcheol can't lie, the dinner was first awkward and he didn't even know why you're saying yes to his invitation, but he should be grateful because if you say no the members will most likely bullies the shit out of him.

Some time passes and the atmosphere between you becoming more comfortable, no more stiff position, just a chill coversation while waiting for your food to came.

"Do you have any plans if you're not being a singer right now?" Seungcheol asked curiously after swallowing his food.

You chew yours for a second before answering him, "I actually have a business degree on Yonsei, so if i'm not a singer, i'd be most likely to follow my father career, he have his own company business"

"Oh! I heard you already finished your master degree at Anyang. That's so cool, I want to continue to have my master's degree, but my schedule is too packed, so i don't find any time to study"

Well, the conversation flows smoothly like a river. There's both of your occasional laugh when each of you says something hilarious.

After you finished, he insisted on paying the bill since he's the one who brought you here.

And while you appreciate the nice thing he does, you still feel bad, and so you bought a desert for him to take home.

Seungcheol is first politely declined the nice gesture, but being a stubborn you are, you tell him to take the desert for awhile because you have something on you.

When he does just that, you open your mouth, "The desert is yours! You already hold it. I don't want to take it back" which he chuckled at, and then he said that he really appreciated it and will eat it with his members.

At first, he thought you had gone here by a cab, but you told him that you brought your own car and you parked it in the basement.

So he walks down with you to the underground because he also bring his car here.

You both then send each other a goodbye and you drive to your own house with your own car.

What you don't know is that there's a paparazzi there, ready to take your photos and making it the cover of the news hours later.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

"How's your date?" Seungcheol jumped when he heard that, his older brother is sitting infront of the TV with kkuma, his dog.

Seungcheol frowns, "You're scaring me, and no, that's not a date" His brother finally detached his eyes from the television, looking at Seungcheol with a teasing glance.

"Your members have been so fussy about this, and they say it was a date. Also, they say that you only met her this once despite there's no interaction between both of you before this"

Of course, his members are the nosy people ever, so he just rolled his eyes at his brother before going to his room to change his clothes and also, change your profile pictures because he got that perfect shot earlier.

He smiled when he looked at the photos, and you both even took pictures together, a very couple coded photos in fact.

He will secretly put it on his wallet after he prints it so he can see a beautiful scenery when it was his turn to pay the bills for an outing

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Meanwhile, you still flustered by Seungcheol's gestures earlier, covering the bills, taking pictures together, and even holding your hand while you're going down on stairs.

You always remember yourself that it's just a friendly act between junior & senior, because the fellow actors that in the drama you starred also does that to you.

But this time, you feel your heart thumping loudly against your ribcage, and you think you drunkenly inlove with him.

Like, it's understandable, right? who doesn't love an enigma male named Seungcheol, who's 178cm with that big ass bicep, and let's not start with the way he looks at you because you might die.

There's a several misscall from your friends, Jiwoong, Kevin, even Juyeon. So you decided to open your sns, and what you looking at right now makes you want to poke your eyeballs.

How can they have your photos taken and in the basement, too? you remember Seungcheol said that the restaurant offers a very private dining experience, but how can this paparazzi take pictures of you?

So open your imess, text Seungcheol about the rumors, you don't want to ruin his career, so you got to act quick.

While doing that, you ask your management team through the group chat, and they were all pretty laid back about the news since you're not in the K-Pop industry, nevertheless they still told you to contact Seungcheol regarding this rumors.

#seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen texts #seventeen smau #choi seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen #seventeen au #kml.writes☆#ᯓ★ you make me wanna make you fall in love ft. csc

121 notes · View notes

bedupolker · 2 months ago

Text

PLAYLIST. @viv13drainbow I think if you like that song in particular you'd also really enjoy Summer Salt, Little Joy, and Babe Rainbow for chill beach-y rock (not included). Commentary below:

The Blue Album - The album to start all albums, the album that launched weezer to success. Many hail this as their best album (I love this album but respectfully disagree) but nonetheless it's an essential for weezer fans and alt rock fans as a whole. Plenty of people who know way more about music than I do have praised blue album at length, and it's a funny meme nowadays too. Of course say it ain't so is an all-time classic, a heart-wrenching look into Rivers's relationship with alcoholism and his parental figures. I dunno if anything on the blue album can be called a proper deep cut, but only in dreams is an overlooked gem, and probably my favorite outro in their whole discography. Hopeful but somber, that slow buildup a the end to the guitar solo. Suzanne is a nice B-side.

Pinkerton - the infamous Pinkerton. Their sophomore album. Their breakdown album. Although weezer's not exactly an emo band, this album is often credited to being influential to the genre as a whole. No two people have the same experience with love or breakups, and one of the beautiful things about art is that we can see an experience through anothers' eyes, but I don't think I can think of a more painfully relatable album than this one. The balancing act of portraying its sympathetically-unsympathetic protagonist as equal parts pathetic and lonely while also entitled and aggressive. Some of the vocals are so raw for a second you see the monster in the five foot six, nerdy, physically disabled, lead singer that he sees himself as. Hard for me to pick a favorite standalone song off this one; the good life is a funky jam that wouldn't be out of place next to wheatus or RCHP's tracks, but that's where all the funk ends. Why bother? is a driving, catchy song that starts to show the cracks of his depression, falling for you is full of emotion, and if you get your hands on the deluxe edition, tragic girl.

Green album - At its time of release, Pinkerton was not received well. Creating such a raw, personal piece of art is hard. It's like the artistic version of getting crazy drunk, pouring your heart out, feeling catharsis for a moment, then realizing you'll have to deal with it all the next day. A lot of people interpret island in the sun as a happy song, but to me it's the tylenol after that night of drinking, a lie to tell yourself just to get through the day. It has a peaceful rhythm and brings to mind a tropical paradise, but there's something undeniably melancholy beneath the sunshine and smiles. You've tried to face your pain and you barely escaped alive, maybe you're better off just ignoring it. (That being said, although the damage has been done, Pinkerton has later been reevaluated and is now as widely praised as the Blue Album amongst music critics, and Rivers himself has made peace with that phase in his life.)

Maladroit - Overall this album is rather overlooked. It leans a bit more heavily into the rock aspect compared to green album, yet the lyrics remain impersonal and goofy. It's still not a bad album, though doesn't reach the heights of the first two. The singles, Dope Nose & Keep Fishing are both solid, but Burndt Jamb is my personal favorite. A little beach-y, probably their Stroke-y est song, (the band, not the medical emergency), it's been a mainstay on several of my chill out playlists for years now.

Make Believe - Probably one of their most hated albums by fans. It has the infamously shallow and poppy beverly hills, but you know what? I'm a Make Believe Defender. I truly think it could've been a great album, maybe even on par with Pinkerton. Not because of the album itself, but the demos. Haunt you Everyday is solid on the final product but rips at my heartstrings in this demo, ditto for tell me what you did (different name on the final product), everybody wants a chance to be alone (I said burndt jamb was their strokiest song but I think it might actually be this one) purple flowers (lyrics are a little rough but the melody, the meloncholy... so good) Actually on that note, weezer has, like, multiple album's worth of unreleased content that's miles better than anything on a published album (Link for one of my favorite fan compilations). Yes, the lyrics sound like something I wrote in my diary after a breakup, but that makes them all the more real. A deep dive into weezer will reveal the terrifying truth we've all been blind to: weezer never got bad.

Red Album - Mixed feelings on this one. It was produced by Rick Rubin, industry titan and famous for bringing bands "back from the dead," he's produced more than one of my all time favorite albums. Red is not one of them unfortunately. It has its fans though. Pork and Beans is fun.

Raditude, Hurley, Death to False Metal - Skipping these bc I don't care abt them

Everything will be alright in the end - To fans, this was their first "good" album since Maladroit, maybe since Pinkerton (12 years prior!) depending on who you ask. Although it wasn't as commercially successful as some others, it's a very strong album. Really, what is it about rock bands forgetting they're rock bands then suddenly returning to releasing rock music and magically being good again?? I'm looking @ you too, fall out boy. I have a hard time picking a really standout song- it's one of those albums that's evenly good throughout, no skips, but no obvious standouts either. Da Vinci is fun.

White Album - A fantastic album. You can hear some pretty heavy beach boys influence in this one. Unlike EWBAITE it has a few skips for me, but the highs are very high. Speaking of high. Do you wanna get high has to be my favorite off this one, Endless Bummer could be a sequel to island in the sun, Summer Elaine and Drunk Dori is just good clean weezy fun.

Pacific Daydream - I'm a Pacific Daydream defender. Check out QB blitz. Weekend Woman is flawed, but fun too, the bridge really makes it for me. Very evocative of Good Vibrations by the beach boys.

Teal Album - Oh god a cover album. No Scrubs is probably the only one really worth checking out if nothing else to hear a geeky white guy say "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly" like he's reading it out of a dictionary. (TLC, who wrote and performed the original song, allegedly got a kick out of it)

Black Album & Van Weezer - I don't care about these either. Damnit I thought we were gonna be good again!

Ok Human - A good album!! What a relief. Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be to name yourself as a homage such a groundbreaking radiohead album and have it be.... bad??? I particularly love this one because in some ways it feels like it's his most personal album since Pinkerton- only instead of being an honest dialogue from a horribly lonely and isolated 20 year old student, it's a much more well adjusted, happily married, 50 year old father who is subject to both optimism and ennui. And it rocks! In a soft, subdued way. The songs flow into each other so nicely, the first three in the album debatably are my favorite 3-song-run in their discog. Aloo Gobi and Grapes of Wrath especially. The transition from dark and somber Dead Roses to light and upbeat Here Comes the Rain never gets old to me. This album (alongside MGMT's little dark age and The Stroke's The New Abnormal) was also like my essential Coronavirus holy trinity.

Spring/Summer/Fall/Winter - This is a compilation of 4 EP's, one of each released during their respective seasons in 2022. I think it's solid all around, with Summer being the strongest. Records and Blue Like Jazz are both very catchy, Thank you and Goodnight... just wait for the outro, trust me.

#weezer

104 notes · View notes

mafiadad5 · 9 months ago

Text

Interminable || mark lee

No matter how much you claim you don’t want someone, or force your feelings away, you can never hide the truth

Genre- non idol au, friends to lovers, angst, smut, fluff, slow burn

paring- mark lee x fem!reader

Warnings- heavy angst, protected sex (mdni), mentions of alcohol, sex under the influence of alcohol (consensually), heartbreak, swearing, tw- mentions of death.

Mark is green and reader is blue/ white !

Word count- 12k

Playlist- kingston - faye webster / take a chance with me - niki / intro (end of the world) - ariana grande / a new kind of love - frou frou, imogen heap, guy sigsworth / a night to remember - beabadoobee, laufey / teddy bear - nct dream / bad religion - frank ocean / hurts me too - faye webster / yume utsutsu - lamp / promise - laufey / moonlight on the river - mac demarco / love - wave to earth / only - leehi

Authors note- omg hi, so this is one of my first angst, plz tell me what you think <3 and also… sry for any spelling or grammar errors lol.

July 11th, 9:00 am- beautiful stranger

"Hi! How can I help you today?"

Was the first thing he's ever said to you, a little anticlimactic yes, but you found yourself infatuated.

This was a smoothie shop that you were trying for the first time after moving, so you took some time browsing the menu, the nameless employee asking if you needed any help with anything here and there.

"Well what's your favorite thing?" You asked, looking at him deeply for the first time.

His eyes twinkled like no other, gleaming like the evening star in the night. All you could do was stare as he spoke, taking in all of his delicate features: the way his dark brown hair laid on his forehead, the way he was so expressive as he talked, oh wait, what was he talking about again?

"That's why it's my favorite drink and the large is simply better, sorry I didn't mean to talk your head off." He giggled.

"I'll take that." You grinned softly with him, eyes lighting up as he smiled brightly.

"In a large right?"

"Mhm!"

"Great! One large watermelon smoothie for you, that’ll be 7 dollars."

Your face dropped as he punched your order in on the register. You fucking hate watermelon smoothies, the actual fruit is ok, but the texture of the smoothie you can't do it, like at all.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, looking up at you with concerning eyes.

"Yea, all good!" You forcefully smiled, pulling out your card to pay.

“All set, I’ll get that ready for you asap!” He smiled, handing back your card.

You found somewhere to sit, making yourself comfortable as you scrolled on your phone, distracted by images of his smile popping up in your head. The smoothie shop was quiet, peaceful really, you being the only customer there.

“Here you go ma’am.” You heard from beside you, knocking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh thank you, you really didn’t have to bring it to me though.” You grinned, grabbing the smoothie from him.

“No problem really, there’s no one here anyways.” He smiled back, nodding reassuringly before turning away.

“Wait!” You interrupted, tapping the side of your drink nervously.

“What’s up?” He asked. His stare made you nervous, eyes so pure it made you want to melt on the spot from looking for one second.

“I was just wondering if um, if I could have your number? You know, I’m just new to the city and I would love some people to talk to.” You asked.

Your voice was so shaky and filled with anxiety it was so easy to read your nervousness, but he didn’t mind it, he found it somewhat cute actually.

“Yes, I would love to give you my number. May I see your phone?” You nodded persistently, a small smile on your face from the relief and the excitement, handing him your phone.

“What’s your name?” He asked, dialing the number in your call pad.

“It’s Y/n, what about yours?” You said, a smile on your face as he gave the phone back.

“It’s Mark, nice to meet you Y/n.” He stuck out his hand.

His voice, his eye contact, his manners, everything about him made you blush like a little teenager in love with your high school sweetheart, and you had only exchanged a few words.

“Nice to meet you too.” You smiled, your hand meeting with his soft hand, shaking gently and slowly, his eyes locked with yours.

“Well I have to get back behind my station, I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” He said as you removed your hand from his, nodding gently, waving as he walked back behind the counter.

You decided to sit there, the vile large smoothie in front of you tasting disgustingly good now knowing who made it. You drunk awfully slow, not just because of the eye candy that worked in front of you, glancing at you and smiling on occasion, but because how the smoothie dreadfully slithered down your throat, holding in a gag every swallow, but you finished it, every last drop. God how a pretty smile could make you do anything, you hated it, but here you were.

You got up from your chair, Mark noticing you, interrupting you before you collected your trash: “Oh, I got it!”

You turned to him smiling as he quickly walked over, collecting your trash.

“Thank you Mark, I’ll see you later.”

“You’re welcome Y/n!” He beamed as you walked out the smoothie shop

You had gained three things leaving that shop: a bright smile on your face from happiness, a bittersweet hatred for large watermelon smoothies, and a new, great person in your life.

July 11th, 10:53 pm- more than words

It had been a few hours since your first encounter with Mark, you trying to get him off your mind after the blue message you sent earlier never delivered.

You laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as your hopes got shot down. Your phone went off beside you, but you just ignored it, trying to sulk in your feelings.

You soon got bored though so you decided to take a peek at your lock screen, jumping up as a familiar unknown number appeared in your Notification Center.

Hi y/n, don’t know if my number is saved yet, but it’s Mark from the smoothie shop.

You lied on your stomach, face lighting up as you grabbed your phone, instantly opening the message.

Oh hey, how was work lol?

It was good, other than the fact I left my phone at home, and dead… most boring double shift ever lol. How was your day after you left?

It was good, just went home and watched a movie with my roommate.

Oh cool. You said you were from a different city right?

Oh yea, actually out of the state!

Oh that’s cool, but why here. ^.^?

Just trying to explore more places, I like this place so far.

Ohh nice. Well I hope I have the pleasure of showing you around the city and making you love it :) How’d you like the smoothie?

I might take you up on that haha ;) and omg it was so delicious. Very refreshing to have after my morning runs. You’ll be seeing me a lot more in the mornings lmao.

Oh awesome, I basically work every morning so it’ll be a pleasure seeing you and making my morning a tad bit better.

You sprung up with a smile on your face, running around your room hectically. Did he really mean he what said, did you make his morning better? Your mind started flooding with a million thoughts, calming as you settled down, realizing that you never texted back. You grabbed your phone again, the message still opened as you started to text back.

Lol, well I guess I'll see you tmr then, hope to brighten up your day :)

You responded, sitting waiting for a response, 5 minutes passing, then 10, and nothing. You figured he might’ve just went to sleep, he did say he had a double shift, but you couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow and the anticipation was eating you up inside all night.

July 12th, 9:13 am - it's a date! i think...

You were on your run, the smoothie shop on your mind the whole entire way.

Finally, you were there, Mark cleaning the counters, eyes lighting up as you walked through the doors.

"Good morning!" He excitedly said.

"Good morning!" You said in response, a bright smile on your face as you made your way to the register to order.

"Wait I made something for you." He said, grabbing the most despise-able , yet refreshingly large watermelon smoothie. You felt your eye twitch at the sight.

"You shouldn't have." You smiled, not forcefully, but you felt a hint of pain behind it.

"Ah, it's the least I could do." He said, handing you the drink , wiping the condensation of the cup on his white apron.

You didn't think you could gobble down another one of these, you almost died at the thought, but there you were, sitting down at the same table you were at yesterday, drinking the smoothie painfully slow.

"So like, have you been anywhere around here yet?" You turned to him as he finished cleaning the counters. "I've only been to like a few food places, but that's all." You answered.

“Well, I’m off next Wednesday. If you’re not busy then I can take you to like my favorite park?”

Your face lit up, did he like just ask you out on a date?

“Yes, I would love to, just text me what time.” You smiled.

“Yea for sure!”

For an hour the conversation kept on flowing, you two chatting it up while he worked, unfinished conversations floating in the air when other customers came into the shop pausing the long talks.

“Mark I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to get to my online class so I’ll see you later.” You smiled, a little sad because you felt like you could’ve stayed and talked to him for hours.

“No worries, I’ll text you later about plans. Have a good rest of your day Y/n!”

“You too Mark!” You said, throwing the finished cup away.

On your walk home all you could think about was Mark, yes you only knew him for like 2 days, but his impression had left a stamp on your heart. He would definitely be someone you would be interested in having a relationship with, and he seemed like he thought of you in the same manor.

While walking home, your phone vibration went off, Marks name appearing on the lock-screen.

Hey Y/n know we just talked lol, but I’m thinking maybe like 12:00pm next Wednesday? How does that sound?

You opened the text, a smile on your face as you typed quickly.

Hey Mark, sorry but I have my online class, but I can do 1pm if that’s ok?

Oh yea, that works for me, I can come to your house and we can walk to the park? That sound ok?

Yea that’s perfect!

Great, well then it’s a date! :p

It’s a date lol

It’s a date!

July 19th, 12:55 pm - are you falling in love?

You were panicking you and your roommate running around trying to find your favorite perfume that decided to get lost at a time like this.

Hey! I’m outside, just come out whenever you’re ready I’ll be waiting :)

Fuck, you didn’t want him to just sit out there.

“I FOUND IT I FOUND IT.” Your roommate screamed, throwing you your perfume.

“Thank you you’re the best.” You grinned, rushingly spraying the perfume on your body.

“Ok I’m going now.” You said, grabbing your purse and slipping on your sneakers at the door. You rushed out the door, rushing downstairs your eyes scanning the outside, stopping on a familiar figure wearing a T-shirt, some blue jeans, and a small tote bag.

“Mark!” You shouted, causing him to turn around. Your eyes meeting his face then the two large smoothies in his hand.

You tried to keep a smile on your face, but it seemed like the watermelon smoothies had faces of their own looking at you with snarky expressions.

“Y/n!” He smiled, jogging over to you.

“Were you at the wrong complex?” You giggled, an awkward smile painting his face as he nodded.

“Maybe… oh here I got you something.” He said laughing, handing you the dreadful smoothie.

“Oh thank you.” You smiled.

“Wow my first time seeing you out of your workout clothes, I think I like these better. Not that I don’t like how you look in your workout clothes, you look amazing in your workout clothes, but I’m just, you look good now too.”

“Thank you Mark, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you without your uniform Mr. Smoothie King. You look good too.” You giggled as he blushed.

“Ah I try my best, I guess we should walk to the park now.”

“After you.”

You guys walked to the park, which happened to only be 5 minutes away, sitting on a bench.

“I don’t know if you’re gonna like it, I should’ve asked, but I got you a ham sandwich.” You smiled taking the sandwich from him.

“I love it thank you.” You said, removing the sandwich out of the packet and taking a big bite.

You two sat on the bench for a while talking each other’s heads off, a smile on both of your faces as you chatted and laughed together for a few hours, the time passing by so fast.

“I’m starving, do you wanna grab dinner?” He said.

“Well, I mean my place is close by we can just go there and cook something really quick.”

“Oh, I would love that.” He smiled.

“Ok let me just text my roommate to make sure.” He nodded as you pulled out your phone, your roommate responding almost immediately saying you could go ahead and she was in her room anyways.

“Ok she said she’s fine we can go!” You said, standing up and grabbing his hand, pulling him up to stand with you.

For any other man, you would never let them go into your apartment this early, but you just felt so different about him, like you would trust anything he says. I guess that’s not a good thing, but for fucks sake ever since you’ve met him you’ve seen him almost everyday, and he always makes it a point to text you throughout the day and after work so you felt like at that point, you had known him long enough to trust him.

You had made it to your house, opening the door and removing your shoes, prompting him to do the same. You sat your things down near the dining table rolling up your sleeves and heading to the kitchen, and he followed right behind you.

“I was just gonna make spaghetti tonight, do you want?” You asked, getting out your pot and pans, setting them on the stove.

“I’d want anything you cook.” He laughed, a small grin appearing on your face as he stood beside you. In past conversations it has come up that you did love cooking and actually had a bachelors in culinary arts, associates in education, hence the online cooking classes you taught, so it wasn’t strange to make a comment like that, it was actually quite flattering.

“Here can you make the sausages?” You asked, handing him the already prepped meat, Mark grabbing the bowl pouring it into the pan almost immediately, causing a loud sizzling sound to erupt in the kitchen.

“MARK!?” You turned, laughing as he backed away from the pan, looking at you like a toddler getting scolded by their parent.

“Uh oh.” He said, a smile appearing on his face before you handed him a box of noodles, signaling him to cook them instead. You two stood beside each other, talking as you watched the food.

“Mark taste this.” You said, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping some of the homemade tomato sauce you made on it, holding it up to his mouth.

“Yo, this honestly may be the best spaghetti sauce I’ve ever tasted.”

You smiled, setting down the spoon, pouring the rest of the sauce with the sausages.

“Thank you.”

You finally finished cooking, plating your beautiful creation together.

“Let’s watch a movie in the living room while we eat.” You suggested, him following behind you as you took a place on the couch.

“What should we watch?” You asked.

“ What about La La Land?” He suggested.

“Stop that movie makes me cry.” You pouted playfully, a grin painting his face.

“Well if you really don’t want to then we can watch something funny, but I’ll be here to wipe your tears just saying.” He shrugged, causing you to smile, looking down, then back up at him.

“Fine.” You said, causing him to take a happy sigh of relief.

You turned on the movie, both of you guys eating while making small comments every now and then. Fortunately, you didn’t cry, but he was your shoulder to lie on during the movie, and unfortunately it was time for him to go home.

“Are you sure you can walk home by yourself, it’s dark out now?” You asked concerned, walking him to the door.

“Yes I’m good, you only stay like 10 minutes walking distance from me, I’ll send you my location if you’re that scared.”

“Ok fine” You said dragging out your words, trying to be serious, but all you could do was melt, it seemed like everything he did, everything he said was so cute and made you smile.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He questioned, looking at you from outside the door frame.

“Yeah, 9:00am like always!”

“Ok, bye Y/n.” He smiled, waving before turning away.

“Bye Mark.” You shut the door, turning away.

You decided to clean up before knocking on your roommates door.

“He’s gone.” You said before walking into your room, her busting in shortly after, a smile on her face.

“Girl.” She said, bouncing on your bed with a mischievous smile.

“You heard everything didn’t you?” You asked.

“I heard enough, and girl he sounds so fucking romantic I thought I was listening to a romcom.

“Ughh tell me about it, he’s so dreamy.” You smiled, face lighting up as you thought about the string of events that happened that day, your phone vibrating before your roommate could respond.

“Omg shut up he just texted me now.” You looked at her with sparkling eyes.

“What’d he say?”

➶︎ mark<3 started sharing location with you.

Hey, just wanted to text and lyk that I had such a fun time, and we should definitely do this again :) have a great night and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.

You looked at your roommate, a smile painted so brightly on your face it hurt your cheeks.

“Girl he fucking wants you oh my god.”

“He fucking wants me!” You screamed, a bright smile on your face as you ran all over your room.

“Text back text back.” Your roommate said.

I had a great time too, thank you for showing me the park <333. Have a great night mark, see you tmr!

You and your roommate just sat talking, you really seeing how deep you were in your feelings after practically bragging to her about him. You just hope he was in as deep as you.

August 2nd, 10:35 am - surprise!

You woke up, excited to get the day started, you were even too excited to go on your morning run, putting on a simple outfit just to run errands, your first one obviously the smoothie shop.

“Happy birthday Mark!!!” You ran inside, a big smile on your face as you made your way to him. He looked up surprised, cleaning the tables, setting down his washcloth as you pulled him into a hug.

“You remembered my birthday, I thought you weren’t coming today?” He smiled as he went behind the counter, going to the register before you shook your head.

“Mark, I’m not ordering anything… but I did come to ask you for a favor.” He looked at you with questioning eyes, not responding, waiting for your favor.

“Well, my uh drawer is jammed and I really need what’s in it like tonight, my roommate isn’t there so I could use your help when you get off?”

“Oh yeah sure, I’ll head over there when I get off.” He said, a small grin on his face.

“Thanks Markie you’re the best! See you at 5. Happy birthday again!”

“Thanks.” He mumbled, going to clean again as you left.

It’s go time.

Hey I’m otw, might be there at like 5:30 or 5:45 because I’m starving, so I’m gonna stop to get some food.

No Mark, I really need this drawer unjammed, can you plz come right away? You can get food after. plzzzzzzz :(

Alright alright, I’ll come straight there.

Yayyy!

After a few minutes you finally heard a knock on the door. You got up excitedly, making sure everything looked good before opening the door, blocking the view of the living room.

“Ok, let’s see what’s wrong with this drawer.” He said.

You let him in, a big smile on your face as he walked, eyes in shock as he looked at the decorated living room, along with the dinner and cake sitting on the dining room table.

“Surprise!” You smiled seeing his eyes light up, looking at you, then the decorations, and back at you again.

“Yo… you really… omg I don’t even know what to say. Thank you bro oh my god no one has like ever done anything for me like this before. Thank you Y/n, you’re like the best.”

“You’re welcome Mark and Happy birthday again. Now you said you were starving so let’s eat!”

You both ate, resting on the couch after the delicious homemade chicken and rice, and cookies and cream ice cream cake.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” He asked.

“If you want to then we will birthday boy, but I have something for you first.” You said, pulling out a small blue gift bag.

First he pulled out the card, opening it to see a message in bright red ink, reading it in his head.

Dear Mark, I hope you have the most wonderful birthday and I’m very grateful that I could spend it with you. I hope we can spend more and more birthdays together and I want to say that I’m very grateful that I met you!

- With love Y/n :)

He looked up at you, a smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug. “Thank you so much Y/n.”

He pulled the other gift out the bag, jumping up out of the seat as he saw what it was.

“Y/N YOU GOT ME A LIMITED EDITION SPIDER-MAN COMIC BOOK?” His smile was so wide and full, you felt like you could climb it.

“Yo Y/n… I’m actually, oh my fucking god I… I honestly could kiss you right now oh my goodness. Thank you.” He squealed, your eyes sparkling as you looked at him.

“You’re welcome Mark. I guess we should watch Spider-Man now huh?” You giggled, pulling out the extra cushions on the couch to make more room so you both could lay down.

You both got comfortable, watching the movie, your head on his shoulder as you both laid under the blanket. I guess you could say that you both got a little too comfortable, passing out before the movie was even over.

You woke up, unsure of what even happened and how you even got here in the first place. Mark was no where to be found, but a notification on your phone let you know his whereabouts.

Hey, sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but you were like sleeping beauty lol. I had work and I’m for certain you’re not coming tdy so I’ll just swing by later on when I get off. Oh, and thank you so much again. I really appreciate you :D

Oh no worries, I’ll see you later, and no problem!

You set your phone down, you couldn’t even believe how far you have gotten with him.

Seriously, your first sleepover with him, cuddled up at that. And of course you didn’t let that comment about kissing you slide, it was pretty much on your mind all night, and the moment kept repeating itself in your head, driving you almost crazy. That’s what you want more than anything, just a kiss, one kiss.

You were certain that you were almost there, but of course you didn’t want to rush things and you liked the pace of this relationship so far so I guess it is what it is right now… but it should come soon, hopefully it comes soon.

October 27th, 9:08 am- i think im in love.

Today was like any other day, going on your morning run, then stopping by your absolute favorite place.

"Good morning Y/n!" Mark said, smiling as he acknowledged you, sticking his head back under the counter.

"Good morning Mark!" You said, walking to the register.

"I'm a little busy right now Y/n, do you mind just waiting at your table so I can finish this?" He asked.

"Sure." You grinned, going to your normal seat, scrolling on your phone as you waited for Mark. You looked to your side, noticing him holding a large mango smoothie with a birthday candle in the cap, your eyes lighting up as you realized what was happening.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my dearest Y/n, happy birthday to you!" He sung, bringing the smoothie over to you, his cheekbones defined as he smiled.

"You remembered?" You laughed, blowing out the candle.

"How could I forget? So, I hope you're not busy tonight because I want to do something for you at my apartment." He answered.

"Perhaps I could swing by, I'd have to check my schedule." You said sarcastically, a smirk on your face as your cheeks went hot.

"Well, stop by at 7pm if you're able to Ms. Hollywood."

"I'll see what I can do." You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile on his face as he made his way back to the smoothie counter.

You thought about what he had planned all day. Doing random task to try to take your mind off of it, daydreaming about what it would be, what it would look like, goodness 7pm couldn't get here any quicker.

Finally it arrived, the time you anticipated for all day. You knocked on his door, waiting for a few seconds before you heard the door handle rattling, him sitting awkwardly in the door frame after he opened it. You two stared at each other for a second in silence, an awkward smile on your face as you stared at him.

“Hey.” He coughed.

“Hey, it’s cold, can I come in?” You grinned, an awkward laugh sounding from him as he let you in, shutting the door behind you.

“Surprise!” He mumbled as you stood quietly, eyes twinkling as you took in all the decorations.

The first thing you saw was a big projector screen in the living room with your favorite show ‘kitchen nightmares’ paused. Your eyes slowly observed the room to see sugar cookies and decorative frosting on the coffee table, a large box with a bow sitting next to it. You were quiet, breathless really, couldn’t even find the words to say, just staring blankly.

“Do you like it, I know it’s not much, but-”

“It’s perfect.” You interrupted, looking at him with the most glistening eyes.

He smiled condescendingly, guiding you to the dinner that was on the dining table, the homemade chicken pasta, which happened to be your favorite food.

“Mark oh my goodness.” You said, taking a seat while he grabbed some drinks from the fridge.

“Yeah, once you told me that you taught how to make it on your course, I just bought the course and learned how to perfect it.” Your eyes widened as you turned to him.

“That’s like a $150 course Mark, I could’ve just taught you.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?” He said, sitting down across from you looking at you with a smug smile.

“Plus, you’ve helped me learn how to cook too, I’ve saved so much money cooking at home.”

You nodded, taking a bite out of the food he made, your eyes widening as you grinned.

“You’re good at it too. This is delicious Mark.”

“Ah thank you man, but I learned it from you.”

You guys finished eating, and started decorating the cookies together, the show playing in the background, but Mark rushed you two, hesitant about you opening up your gift.

“Fine, I’ll open it.” You said, grabbing the card off the box, opening it, a nice purple hand written note on the card. You read it slowly, taking in every word.

Dear Y/n, there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t think words could explain it, and I know I’m probably harassing you about this present right now aren’t I haha? But it’s only because I want to show how much I care about you. Im so glad that we met and I hope you have the best birthday and many more after that.

- Love Mark

“Aw thank you Mark.” You said, pulling him into a hug before you grabbed the box, opening it slowly. He sat there a huge smile on his face, breathing deeply, looking at you with anticipated eyes, his leg bouncing as your eyes widened.

“MARK NO YOU DIDNT, SHUT THE FUCK UP.” You screamed, pulling the pot and pan set out of the box, looking up at him, mouth wide as you looked back at the box.

“Mark this set goes for like 400 dollars- Mark I can’t- Mark how did you- nobody has done anything like this for me before.” You spoke, each sentence shortening with hiccups as your eyes started tearing up.

“It didn’t take me long to save up for, and it’s the least I could do for messing up one of your pans.” He said.

“The most you should’ve done is get a cheaper pan.” You wiped your tears with your hands, looking at the box again wondering it was all just a dream.

“The amount of times you’ve forced me to binge Hell’s Kitchen with you, you really thought I wasn’t gonna get you your favorite chefs pots and pans set that you talk about all the time?”

“No.” You snuffled, vision blurry.

“Well you deserve it Y/n, happy birthday!” He smiled brightly.

“Thank you so much Mark.” You smiled, blinking quickly trying to stop your tears, pulling him into a hug.

“You’re welcome Y/n.”

You didn’t know what love felt like. Always used your whole life, taken for granted. Doing everything yourself with no help, no one to call on, but now you knew, you knew it for sure, you were in love.

February 14th, 9:10 am- a night to remember.

After complaining to Mark about how you've never had a valentines, he suggested that he'd be it this year, and of course you agreed. He told you not to stop by the smoothie shop, or even go on your run today, but to stay and pamper yourself before your going out later the night.

You better not be up running right now.

I was sleep actually before your loud notification woke me up -.-

Oh sorry... go back to sleep •.•

You giggled at the message, obviously you were already up, you were too excited not to be. He said that he planned to take you to a fancy restaurant, then just to go back to his apartment and bake cookies, watch movies, little things like that, but no matter what you do, no matter how cheap, you still were so excited. This was your first Valentine, and your biggest crush.

The time passed fairly quickly as you prepped yourself for what you thought was going to be the best night of your life. You slipped on your red dress and black heels, soon hearing a knock at your door.

Excitedly you rushed to the door, opening it to see Mark in a white button down shirt and black slacks— and god his scent hit you like a speeding car.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiled, a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You responded, your lips turning into a smile, cheeks hurting from smiling so hard as he handed you the flowers.

“You look good.” He spoke, clearing his throat, an awkward smile painting his face.

“Thank you, I could say the same about you.” You said, smiling brightly as you sat down your flowers, grabbing your purse and a red gift bag before turning to him again.

“This is for you.” You said, handing him the gift bag, a grin on his face as he accepted it.

“Let’s open our gifts later together, ok?” He said.

You nodded, closing the door behind you.

The dinner was very much delicious, and you two had a great time baking cookies. It was a little bit messy, just because you both were a bit tipsy, well… very tipsy, but it was fun nevertheless.

“Mark let’s open our gifts.” You giggled, as he nodded, grabbing his small gift bag.

He grabbed his gift first, pulling it out and examining it.

“You told me that you wanted to learn how to cook more meals when im not around, and I can’t have you buying my courses again, so I just made you a homemade cookbook— with like only foods that we make together, the ones nobody else has.” You smiled infectiously, Mark feeling a smile curling on his lips just from looking at yours.

“Thank you Y/n, I love it.” He smiled genuinely, handing you the small bag that he had in his hands. You opened it slowly, taking out a small black velvet box.

You looked up at him, an impatient look glimmering in his eyes as you opened it slowly, a beautiful silver diamond necklace sparkling in your eyes.

“Well damn, maybe I should’ve gotten you a better gift.” You giggled, still a little taken aback.

He laughed in response, inching closer to you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, eyes burning into your face for some kind of approval.

“Like it? I love it.” You said, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

“Can you help me put it on?” You said, removing the necklace from the box, handing it to mark.

You turned around, lifting up your hair, the necklace wrapping around your neck nicely. His hands rubbing against your skin as he fastened the jewelry. You turned around, your bodies close, Mark looking at the necklace as it sparkled on your skin.

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured, looking at you with a smile, but all you could do was stare— stare deeply into his eyes, god you just wanted to taste him so bad.

Your stares remained interlocked, no one breaking the eye contact, no one saying anything either.

So you did it, leaning in and finally taking his lips onto yours. It wasn’t as magical as you thought though, in all honesty it seemed like it wasn’t even reciprocated.

You broke the kiss, an awkward silence shattering around you as he just stood staring at you.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You stuttered, breaking the silence.

Your eyes burned from holding back the tears that wanted to desperately be let out, you turning and walking away to avoid it— thinking about how your walk home would be, how you would cry deeply regretting how you ruined the day that was supposed to be perfect, but that all got interrupted as you felt a tight grasp on your wrist, turning you back around, a silent tension surrounding the two of you once again.

You looked at him with glossy eyes, a million thoughts rushing around in your brain, but your mind went blank again as his lips crashed back onto yours.

Your shoulders dropped, letting go of all the tension in your body as his hand found your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

The kiss grew deeper as you wrapped your hands around his neck, his free hand wrapping around your body, slowly backing you into his room, not breaking the kiss once.

His hands found the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down, slipping you out of the tight fabric, you pulling him out of his shirt shortly after.

There were no words exchanged, only heavy breathing as you two kissed passionately, tongues exploring each other’s mouths as he pushed you onto his bed.

You sat there, chest heaving up and down as you looked at him pull a condom out of his nightstand, eyes lighting up as you came to your senses about what was really going on.

He pulled down his pants and underwear, ripping the plastic to the condom with his teeth, wrapping it around himself before getting on top of you.

He planted another messy kiss on your lips before pulling down your underwear, lining up his tip to your aching hole.

You breathed heavily in anticipation, you practically have dreamt of this moment. He looked at you once more for reassurance before pushing himself into you. You let out a gasp, your walls wrapping tightly around him. He started to thrust at a slow pace, making sure you were comfortable before speeding up.

Your skin flushed as you squirmed under him, beautiful sounds of lust filling the room as his head rested on your shoulder, face nuzzling into your neck.

Loud moans filled the room as your bodies pressed into each others as he thrusted even faster, letting out moans and curses as your walls sucked him in.

You wrapped your hand around his bare back, scratching and itching at his bare skin as your bodies thrashed together.

“Fuck I’m almost there.” You whimpered out, clenching around him, breath hitching causing him to let out a low moan into your neck.

“Me too Y/n.” He moaned, desperately thrusting.

His hands found your arms, removing them from his back and holding onto them tightly, fingers interlocking with yours as his thrust became messier and messier by the second.

“Fuck I’m coming.” He cried out, your legs shaking in sync as he forced himself to do a few more aimless thrust, both of you moaning loudly as he rode out your highs.

The room filled with heavy breathy, you sitting there silently trying to fathom what even just happened.

You two got cleaned up and went to sleep right after, well he did.

You couldn’t sleep though, the realization struck a cord in your brain, your mind racing from the thought that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, it was obviously so exciting.

You couldn’t wait to wake up together— wake up together knowing that he was yours and you were his.

You wonder what that conversation would sound like, what the moment would feel like when you two could finally call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, it had your cheeks growing warm. I guess you could say it was the best night of your life.

You shut your eyes, vivid pictures of him filled the dark void until you finally found yourself asleep.

February 15th, 11:25 am - he loves me, he loves me not.

You woke up, Mark sleeping soundly beside you, smiling strongly as you realized it really wasn’t a dream.

You hopped up excitedly, going to his kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the both of you, Mark waking up shortly before the food was ready.

“Good morning.” He said, taking a seat at the dining table.

“Good morning.” You smiled, plating the food and bringing it to him, taking a seat across from him.

You two sat awkwardly, Mark avoiding eye contact as he ate his food. You couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t just sit around and wait till he brought up the topic.

You were so curious as to what you guys were now— and you weren’t going to technically ask him out, but you just wanted some clarity, just wanted to hear him say that you were more than friends, so you took a deep breath interrupting the silence: “Mark, I have a question.”

He looked at you, his eyes looking into yours as if he knew what was coming.

“What’s up?” He said, moving the food around on his plate with his fork.

“What- what are we?” You asked, titling your head, looking at him, but only being returned with broken eye contact.

He chewed his food silently, his body shifting in his chair. He looked back up at you, playing with his food once again, the fork scrapping on the plate somehow louder than the silence that surrounded the both of you.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?” He swallowed, looking at you with a slight frown on his face.

“You don’t wanna be more than that though?” You asked, speaking softly as you innocently glanced at him.

He held his breath, looking everywhere except for your eyes as he answered agonizingly slow, and quietly: “No, not really.”

You felt your heart shatter as he still avoided eye contact, a million thoughts flooding your mind as you bit your lip.

“So why did you- why did we do that last night?” You asked.

“Well, I thought it was a friend thing, just us being tipsy.” He finally looked into your eyes, his answer only making your heart shrink smaller.

You held your composure well, but he noticed the subtlest shift in your eyelids along with the gloss that coated your eyes.

“Friends don’t fuck, or use each other when they’re horny and drunk ” You spat out, growing less patient of his answers by the second.

“Well, you kissed me first- I didn’t know what to do.” He shrugged, voice going a few octaves higher.

“The kiss where I apologized after I thought it wasn’t reciprocated? The kiss where you fucking pulled me back when I was trying to leave? That kiss Mark?” Anger spurred inside you as your voice grew more and more aggressive.

He grew quiet, silence filling the room once again as he looked at you with eyes full of pity— it drove you almost insane.

“Fuck this.” You said, storming to his room to grab any of your belongings.

“I didn’t wanna lose you Y/n.” He said, rushing after you.

“Oh so you decided to lead me on for what- fucking months? You thought that would’ve kept me here Mark? Flirting with me, watching me fall in love with you, then rejecting me and blaming it on me kissing you- AFTER I APOLOGIZED AND LITERALLY TRIED TO LEAVE? Not losing me was the last thing on your mind.” You picked up the remaining items, stuffing your bag rushingly.

“You- you fell in love with me?” He mumbled, standing in the doorway looking at you in sorrow.

“Yes Mark, I fell love you. I fell in love with your eyes, your smile, your fucking everything, and I thought you felt the same way about me, but obviously I’m nothing but a pity party to you.” You looked at him, tears finally spurring from your eyes as you started to break down from his silence.

“Fucking say something.” You said in a painful whisper.

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie and say I love you? I can’t lie to you like that Y/n, you deserve better than that.” Your eyes winced in pain as you stared at him silently.

“Wait no Y/n, that’s not what I meant, I do love you, you’re my best friend I love you a lot, but-”

You interrupted him, grabbing your bag and walking to the door where he was standing, removing your necklace.

“Stop Y/n, I didn’t mean it like that.” He spoke in deep sympathy and guilt.

“You looked me directly in my eyes when you said that, you meant every word. I hope you’re happy.”

Your last words almost squeaked out as your throat tightened, tears streaming down your hot cheeks as you handed him back the necklace.

“Please Y/n, stay— so we can talk about it.” He spoke lightly, blocking the doorway.

You could hear he was being genuine, but you didn’t care at that point.

“There’s nothing to talk about, move Mark.”

“Y/n-”

“move.” You spoke sternly, all he could do was move out of the way and watch as the person he cared for the most walk out his life.

The walk home has probably been the worst and most embarrassing one ever. Your vision blurry as tears violently streamed down your face, wailing as the scene played over and over in your head. You thought he was different, but you guess everyone was the same. You promised to yourself that night that you will never ever deal with that ever again, and no matter what you’re done with him.

February 21st, 9:47pm- please, I love you.

It had been a week since the incident, and to say that you were exhausted was an understatement.

You were more numb than anything right now, finding a new route to run so you didn’t have to run into the smoothie shop, avoiding places that you were most likely to run into each other at, trying to forget about the incident, forget about him— but oh no he didn’t let you.

He would send messages every day, every hour, and it drove you almost insane, but for some reason you couldn’t block him, and deleting his number out of impulse didn’t do anything.

Good morning, I hope you’re doing ok, again I’m so sorry.

You bet he is…

Hey, can we please talk?

Nope.

Plz just respond and tell me you’re okay.

Did he really think you were?

You can be mad at me, you can hate me, but please let me apologize in person

Ugh, for someone who wasn’t in love with you, he would not leave you alone.

But you would just ignore it, leave him on delivered for hours, opening the message when you felt like it. Sometimes you would even act like you were responding to the message when you felt him watching your text bubble, just to mess with him— you deserved to fuck around with him after all.

One day you got another message.

I’m outside, please come out, I’ll wait for hours if I have to.

Was he serious, this was starting to get obsessive. Why couldn’t he just take the hint.

You did what you always did, left him on read, and went on about your business, but 30 minutes later you were curious about if he was actually still waiting.

After beating yourself up for caring so much you decided to check his location, and there he was, sitting in the same place. You sat there for a minute, contemplating if you should go out— for goodness sakes it was like 40 degrees outside so this was some serious commitment on his part, plus this could be a good way to get rid of him, right?

Right…

You grabbed your coat and slipped on your boots, making your way outside to where he was sitting. He jolted up, eyes widening from the fact that you did come outside.

He stood up, trying to hand you a flower.

“I don’t want it.” You declined, shaking your head before sitting on the bench. He nodded his head understandingly.

“How are you?” He asked, sitting beside you on the bench.

“What do you have to say?” You replied curtly, looking forward to avoid his gaze on you. You knew if you looked at him in his sorry eyes you might’ve just folded right then.

“Well, I just want to say that I’m so sorry Y/n. I truly am. I never meant to hurt you and I’m so stupid for leading you on, and making you feel like you mean so little to me. I- I guess I was just scared to lose you, which I know is not an excuse and I’m very sorry. I love and care for you a lot ok. You deserve so much more than what I gave you, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t act that way. I should’ve told you that I didn’t want a relationship from the jump and I’m so sorry that I’m realizing that now when it’s too late. You’re my best friend and by your side is where I’m meant to be. You have the right to be selfish and I know that I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you, but please, please just give me one more chance. I care about you so much and I need you in my life. Please.”

You sat there, a tear rolling down your cold, numb cheeks.

You didn’t want to trust him again, and you’ve said this before and it went terribly wrong, but no one has ever done or said anything to you like this before.

“Mark, listen.” You gulped down the sadness that lingered in your throat and began to speak clearly.

“I love you more than anything, and I would be willing to forgive, but do you realize how embarrassing this is? To be rejected like that— to be told those words, those excuses, and take you back, even as a friend this quickly, this fast. Sorry, but I would have no self respect for that. So that being said, I have to think about this.”

You paused, turning to him.

“But you have to leave me alone, you have to let me figure this out myself. I feel grateful that you feel pity and that you feel enough remorse to be here right now on a cold winter night, but you have to give me space, do you understand me? I need space from you.”

“I understand. I’ll give you space.” He said nodding, looking at you with a frown on his face.

“Anything else?” You asked, standing up as he shook his head no, grabbing your wrist before walking off.

“Thank you, for coming out and talking.”

You said nothing, only nodding in response, pulling his fingers off your wrist, walking back up to your apartment.

February 28th, 8:36 pm- forgiveness, could you imagine?

It had been about a week since you and Mark talked, and trust it was the most confusing week.

You didn’t know whether to be sad, happy, or relieved.

Didn’t know if you would forgive, or just forget and move on.

He respected your wishes, no more annoying text anymore, but that didn’t make you feel good— and honestly made you think about him more, worried about if he was ok or not.

You knew it was bad, and you knew he didn’t even deserve to be thought about right now, but you cared for him and you couldn’t deny that.

So… after sitting for hours, thinking, you decided to forgive.

Hey, I wanted to reach out so I wouldn’t leave you hanging on the matter, even tho you deserve it lol. Anyways, I just wanted to say that I decided to forgive you and would like to continue on as friends. I will never forget this and will take every comment you make seriously and correct you if I think something is misleading. It might not go back to the way it was right away, so don’t force it. And I guess that being said, I’ll see you tomorrow morning during my run.

Thank you so much Y/n, I really appreciate it, and I’ll try my best to be the best friend to you ever. I’ll try not to cross any boundaries and take your feelings deeply into consideration. I’ll see you tomorrow :)

So, I guess you broke your promise. You honestly just wanted your friend back, and even though you’re heartbroken, you still love him. This is your problem actually, too nice for this world, always forgiving, but you would work on that later, but right now you had to deal and learn from it. You know it sounds stupid, but even though he’s the one that broke your heart, he’s also the one who gave you a shoulder to lie on while you cry to him about it, so you’ll be okay. The things you would do for love.

May 16th, 9:00 am - for me.

I had been 3 months since the whole incident happened between you and Mark. After a while you got tired of correcting his comments, and got the hint that was just being nice, so you let it go, along with your feelings for him. Basically, everything was back to normal, but he was way more— how do you say? Kinder, which seemed impossible given the fact of how your friendship has always been, but now it was very noticeable. You just chopped it up to him wanting to proof himself to you, and redeem himself from… past situations.

Unfortunately you had to break some bad news to him though.

Hey, can we meet at the park?

Yea sure, is everything ok?

You didn’t respond.

You two were sitting on the bench that shared so much history, talking and getting off track per usual, but you finally had to spill the news.

“Mark, I’m-” You took a deep breath, turning to your body towards him.

“Mark I’m moving back home.” You said, Marks eyes glistening a mournful sparkle as he heard the words come out your mouth.

“W-why?” He asked, voice cracked a little as he stared at you.

“Well, my mom is dead ok. And I- I feel like I’ve messed everything up and I need to go back to find myself, like find myself fully and heal instead of running away from my problems.” Your voice was confident, yet stuttered as you spoke.

“When did your mom die, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice curious and worried.

“Shit I didn’t even know she died until a week ago. I feel like even though we didn’t have a good relationship, I could’ve at least been there you know, not just for my mom, but for my whole family.”

“I understand, and I’m so proud of you for trying to heal and be the bigger person, even though your family wasn’t the bigger person for you. When do you leave?” He asked.

You took another deep breath, biting your lip. “Next week.”

“That soon!?” He said, his voice clamorous.

“That soon… but let’s make this last week fun, and memorable and not mourn about it, ok?”

“Ok.” He nodded.

You both just sat in silence as you let the date sink in.

You claimed that you wanted to heal, and that you couldn’t stop running away from your problems, but here you were— running away from your biggest one. You thought that you wanted to keep in contact when you left, but in all honesty, you weren’t so sure. But you guess time would tell.

May 20th, 2:00 pm - this is goodbye

So here it is, your last hangout, the last time you would probably see him for a while, and it was memorable— you guess?

You two decided to go to an amusement park, and then the aquarium. You were having a great time, but you kept noticing his stares, exchanging glances every once in a while, it was very weird.

“What?” You kept asking, his eyes widening in, obviously forceful confusion and innocence.

“Nothing, nothing. Nothing at all man.” He would respond each time, shrugging his shoulders.

You were in the aquarium, holding the stuff animal that he bought you tightly in your arms.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.” He spoke, clearing his throat.

“What’s up?” You turned to him, a wide smile on your face as you looked him in the eyes.

“I um-” he paused, gulping and biting his lip nervously as you stared at him with curious eyes.

“I just wanted to say that I’m gonna miss you and I hope we stay close.” He smiled, sticking his thumb up awkwardly.

“Aww me too Mark.” You smiled in return, pulling him into a hug.

Finally you were back to your apartment after a long, but fun day with him. He wanted you to come over so he could prepare some dinner for you, but you knew that you were going to be exhausted tomorrow from the move so you respectfully declined, letting him know that you needed rest.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then huh?” You said, a bittersweet smile on your face as you looked at his gleaming eyes.

“I guess it is. You’ll visit right?” He questioned.

“Of course I will, and you can come visit me whenever you want too. There’s a lake nearby that I think you’d love.” You smiled.

“Ok, I’ll definitely visit for sure.” He nodded. A comforting silence surrounding the two of you as you just stared at each other.

“Well, I have to get going.” You said, breaking the silence, a grin on your face.

“Ok. I’ll see you later… bye y/n!”

“Bye Mark!” You smiled, turning away to walk to your apartment, looking behind you once more, a smile on his face as he waved.

You never thought that your story would end this soon. Even, though— or, if you, remained friends, you knew it would never be the same no matter how much you visit or text each other, but that’s okay, you were fine with it… right?

May 21st, 8:36 pm - I’m home.

Hey, just checking to see if you got there smoothly?

Yep, all moved in lol

Great I’m glad, I’ll definitely be coming soon;) but anyways, I’ll let you get some rest. Talk to you later

Talk to you later :)

May 21st, 12:23 am - hate me forever.

❥ 1 new voice message from - mark

I know you might hate me forever after this, but I was thinking about it and it’s best if I just told you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and it seems like all I do is fuck your life over, but Ive gotten it all wrong anyways, so I might as well confess now. Fuck Y/n, I think- I think I’m in love with you. You’re going to be so pissed off with me and I was about to tell you yesterday before you left, but you looked so happy and I didn’t wanna ruin it with my own personal feelings like I always do. I thought I didn’t want to be with you, I thought I never would want to be with anyone ever, but you made me realize that I do and I feel like there was a reason that I kissed you, tipsy or not. Well I did more than just kiss you, but nevermind that. Sorry. I don’t know why I said that sorry. Anyways sorry, I um dude I’m actually like, this is like frustrating, but I hope that we can still be close even though we don’t live near each other anymore. And yeah, I thought to tell you this so you could reject me and get your revenge you know? Sorry I don’t know why I said that either- sorry for saying that- whyd I- anyways, man I just- ok turn this off actually, but I- I love you Y/n and I hope we stay close, wait dude didn’t I just say that? I don’t know anymore man ok bye- love you- bye.

Don’t listen to that I was drunk :/

Getting drunk the day I leave, miss me already? ;)

Ha you’re funny. Don’t listen tho seriously

Ok fine I won’t .-.

What the fuck.

You obviously listened to it, the first thing you heard in the morning and all you could do was sit in your bed shocked.

You never thought this day would ever come, nor prepared yourself for it.

There was nothing you could do, he fumbled, and you had lost feelings. That was his fault sorry not sorry, but as the week went on you could only think about that message.

It ran through your mind over and over again, and the more you thought about, the more you wanted him.

No matter how much you tried to force your feelings away and tell yourself that you didn’t have them anymore, you can never deny love you feel for someone else, never.

You loved Mark, and you needed to talk to him.

May 30th, 8:00 pm - we can't be friends.

It had been about a week after the voice message, and you tried to ignore everything. Tried to ignore your feelings, your families nagging and constant toxicity, and tried to ignore him running through your mind. You both haven’t talked since then, I guess he was too guilty to even try and you just let it go.

“Y/n, there’s someone here for you.” You heard screaming from downstairs.

Your brows furrowed in curiosity as you made your way downstairs.

You went to the front door, opening it to see Mark standing there. Your eyes widening as he stood at the door with a cheeky smile.

“Mark what are you doing here!?” You asked, slipping on your sandals and walking outside, shutting the door behind you.

“I told you I would come soon.” He smiled.

“How did you even find my address?” Your forehead crinkled as you looked at him with questioning eyes.

“We share locations.” He answered quickly, swirls of passion in his eyes.

“Mark, that’s like- kinda weird.” You answered, a chuckle escaping your lips as he scratched the back of his head.

“Man, I just be checking sometimes, just to make sure you’re ok. Now can you show me this lake that you talked about, it’s all that’s been running through my mind.”

“Yes mark I can show you the lake.” You said, grabbing a blanket and your phone.

You two sat at the lake, watching the sunset, talking like you haven’t seen each other for months.

As you two talked, him confessing kept crossing your mind, really it was all that you could think of actually.

You didn’t know if you should just leave it alone like he did, tell him that you knew and that it was ok, or just tell him you like him first to see if he says anything.

You honestly didn’t know how it would affect the relationship between the two of you, but you just wanted to say something at least, and you weren’t upset like he thought.

“Mark.” You begun, swallowing the anxiety that crawled up your chest into your throat.

He didn’t even respond, just looked at you blankly, his eyes hinting a bit of worry.

“I listened to the voice message.” You mumbled.

His face dropped, ears turning red as he opened his mouth to say something, lip quivering as the words got stuck.

You could feel his heart race even though you weren’t even touching him. He paused for a second, then his voice sounded in fast and high pitch words.

“Y/n, I’m seriously like so sorry. I know that had to be confusing and I honestly wish that I deleted it before you listened dude, swear. You did not deserve to be tangled up in my feelings-”

“Don’t worry, it’s mutual.” You interrupted.

“And I just- wait what?” He paused, looking at you with confusion in his eyes, but a bit a relief in his voice.

“It’s mutual.” You nodded, just as surprised of your words as Mark at that point.

“But I thought you stopped liking me?” His said, his voice sounding flabbergasted. Eyes twinkling as he looked into yours.

“I did, but I never stopped loving you, and I guess that counts right?” You said, a small grin on your face as his face lit up.

“So- so would you be with me? Would you be my girlfriend Y/n?” He asked, turning to you, voice high pitched and excited as his eyes went brighter and wide.

“I would… if you promise to never leave me alone, if you promise to always be there with and for me?” You answered, eyes sparkling as a smile crept on your face from just looking at him.

“I promise Y/n. I’m not letting you go again. I want us to be together forever if it’s possible.” He spoke, scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands, holding them tightly.

“Ok, well then- I would love to be your girlfriend Mark.” Your cheeks hurt as you smiled strongly, your words full of warmth.

“But wait, there’s something we’re forgetting.” He paused, you humming in response as he grabbed something from his coat pocket.

He held up the shimmering diamond necklace, your eyes sparking as you looked at it with a smile.

“Do you just carry that around with you? That’s weird.” You asked, giggling to yourself.

“Call me what you want bro, but it’s yours.”

He smiled, signaling you to turn around so he could put it on you.

“Wow this is so excited I could just kiss you.” He squealed as you turned around.

You raised your eyebrows, a smirk painting your face as you starred at him. He blinked quickly, a smirk appearing on his face shortly after yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cheekbones defined from blushing.

“Yes. You can kiss me.” You responded, nodding as your cheeks grew warm as the smile on your face began to hurt from how big it was.

He smiled, grabbing your face and pulling it to his, looking at your eyes before leaning in. The taste was familiar, yet so much sweeter. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, lips not leaving each others.

Now this is what you could call magical— no regrets, no alcohol, just love.

July 7th, 9:38 am. - my darling.

“Happy one year- meetiversary?” He spoke.

You giggled, meeting him at the counter, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he handed you a mango smoothie.

“Whatever happened to the watermelon ones?” You asked.

You were relieved for sure, but still curious because after your birthday he stopped giving them to you.

“I thought you didn’t like them?” He asked, his eyebrow raised as he titled his head.

“Did I tell you that?” You paused, looking at him with confused eyes.

“No, but I could tell from like the first day I gave you one.”

“So if you could tell I didn’t like it, why’d you keep making them for me?” You questioned, head titling.

“Oh I just wanted to mess with you, see how long it would take for you to crack, but you didn’t, surprisingly.” He said, a smirk appearing on his face.

“So why Mangos now?” You raised your eyebrow questionably.

“It’s your favorite fruit.”

“How do you know that?”

“Y/n It was in your 4 hour cooking course. You mentioned how it was your favorite fruit.” He answered, you nodding in response understandably before tilting your head once again.

“But you bought the one with my favorite meal, the 2 hour one?” You said, causing his lips to curl into a smile.

“Oops.”

You hit him playfully, scolding him about not buying your classes anymore and that you were right there to teach him, but he never listened regardless so you stopped wasting your breath.

You two were long distance for a tad bit, but he finally convinced you to come back so you could be closer again, and trust you took it deeply into consideration after you kept getting in fights with your family when you moved back home. So you’re back.

Sometimes you just sit and think about what if you never moved in the first place. How would your life be? Nevermind that, you just felt grateful to have him and he felt the same about you. It’s been a year since you and Mark have met, and to say that it’s been an emotional rollercoaster was an understatement. Your connection was for sure a journey, and every step of the way, no matter if it was sad or happy, it brought the two of you where you meant to be— together.

September 15th, 5:39 pm (5 years later) - I’ll never let you go.

Sorry to bother you on your run, but do you think you can pick her up some diapers otw home?

Delivered at 8:30 am

Y/n omg she’s crying so hard, she misses her mom, come back soon :(

Delivered at 9:30 am

Sorry, I’ll leave you alone, but I’m telling the truth about her crying.

Delivered at 9:31 am

Y/n, it’s been an hour, where are you? Why is your location off?

Delivered at 10:42 am

Y/n where are you? I’m becoming very upset, text back.

Delivered at 12:38 pm

baby, are you okay? Why aren’t you picking up my calls?

Delivered at 2:09 pm

Did I do something to upset you? I’m sorry if I did, plz come home so we could talk about it.

Delivered at 5:00 pm

About 30 minutes, I got a call that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Hello is this the husband of Y/n L/n?”

You always told me that you would list me first for your emergency contacts, but I didn’t think anything of it.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but she was involved in a very bad hit and run car accident. Please come down here as soon as possible so we can discuss the matter with you.”

My heart trembled at the call, I couldn’t even stand straight.

Your long time friend, your roommate met me at the hospital, taking our baby girl out of my hands before I went into the hospital room, hands shaking every step of the way to you.

When I saw you, my heart sunk, it had to have been a nightmare, no way this was real.

I couldn’t even make it fully in the room before turning and walking out the door. Screaming, tears streaming down my face as I tried to find who did this to you. Thank god our baby was there, gave me a reason to not find him and kill him myself.

The doctors helped me calm down and I finally walked in fully, trying to hold my composure as I got closer to you.

They had you hooked up to all this complicated equipment, but all I could see was you.

I took a seat by your side, tears falling from my eyes as the doctors gave me a minute to spend with you quietly.

“She’s brain dead. The impact of the car sent her into cardiac arrest and the impact from the fall added severe damages to her brain”

I heard that from beside me, a sorrowed voice that just sunk into my brain, carving the words harshly into my heart.

My eyes shut as I wrapped my hand around yours.

You were cold, and that only made my heart shatter more.

“Is there anyway she’ll wake up? Anything?”

I tried to speak, but my voice cracked and squeaked as I saw the doctor’s forcefully cold expression, sympathy in his eyes as he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing we can do but pull the plug, but that’s a decision for you Mr. Lee.”

Tears were in my eyes, my face focused as I stared at you. I was in my right mind— I think, but I couldn’t help my emotions that began to flow out.

“Can- can she feel anything?”

I asked, my voice cracked as I looked at your face.

No matter how cut up it was you still looked so beautiful.

“No.” The doctor spoke.

“So then, I guess that’s the only thing to do right?”

I mumbled, small hiccups escaping my throat as the doctor nodded in agreement, leaving me in the room with you alone for a few more minutes.

I felt numb when I heard that long agonizing beep, couldn’t feel anything but tickling tears rolling down my cheek as I looked at your face.

I could hear faint sounds of your roommate crying, along with our babies cries ringing in my ear, but I couldn’t do anything— I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, I was shattered.

I love you y/n. I will love you forever, and the day that I die, I’ll look for you, and only you.

May 30th, 6:46 pm (4 years later) - interminable

Happy anniversary y/n

it’s been 9 years since I asked to be your boyfriend haha time flies so fast doesn’t it?

Oh, our precious baby girl is 5 years old now, whatttt.

She loves you so much, always ask for stories about her mom, wants to be a chef just like you.

It’s funny because guess what? she hates watermelon smoothies too. She tried to lie, but I saw it in her face. Reminds you of someone huh?

Yk I still remember laughing to myself every time I gave you those smoothies, you tried so hard to act like it was good, but I could tell.

I still listen to your voice messages, the ones you always told me that your laugh sounded ugly, remember? Well I think it sounds beautiful, your laugh never fails to crack me up.

Oh and guess what? I have a surprise. Are you ready? you’re gonna be so happy.

I met Gordon Ramsey! Are you jealous lol? Don’t worry I bragged to him about you, he said you sounded lovely. It always amazes me how talented you are.

I know you’re smiling so hard aren’t you? You wouldn’t leave me for Gordon Ramsey right?

Wait also before you get mad at me, of course I still have the cookbook

And yes I still cook every recipe out of that book, even the one with the sauce that always made me fart, god you hated that one.

I still think about you everyday

And I still miss you so much

Like really really miss you.

Y/n, I really really really fucking miss you

And I still love you, I will never stop loving you.

Happy anniversary.

I love you too Mark, happy anniversary.

So, yes you’re not here anymore, but he made a promise to you, and he kept it. You will always love him, and be there for him and watch over him and your child. You don't always need a body to live on, all you need is a heart, and as long as he's living, your heart resides with his.

©mafiadad5

#mark lee #nct mark #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #mark lee x reader #mark x reader

233 notes · View notes

gublernatural · 9 months ago

Text

The Summertime & Butterflies ✿ Spencer Reid

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: a local florist helps spencer make a peony arrangement for a friend.

♡ WARNINGS: florist!reader, cheesy flower shop names, not edited, that's it really

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

“And these ones,” You gestured to the white chrysanthemum arrangement you made that morning, “represent loyalty, which is also necessary when proposing.” You practically floated through the little corner store filled with flowers, very obviously fitting in. This was your element, basically your home. You spent more time here, at ‘Cherry Bloom Barn’, than anywhere else in the world. Coincidentally, you were also the happiest here. Not many people could say that about their job, you were extremely fortunate in this way.

“Okay, I think I’ll take those,” the woman you were currently touring around gestured to an arrangement you had shown her earlier, “and those,” she pointed at the chrysanthemum arrangement, “and maybe we could do something with those sunflowers? Those are her favorite.” You hummed in agreement, already brainstorming the different ways you could incorporate them.

You had been working with Eloise for a few hours now, ensuring she had everything she needed to propose to her girlfriend. She had described her vision in detail, and you were sure you could make it a reality. It would take some time, and definitely a lot of work, but there was nothing more motivating than helping someone who was very clearly in love.

The only thing you enjoyed more than gardening and flower arranging, was helping people in love. Being able to bring someone’s vision for their partner to life, and knowing you will, in a bit of a roundabout way, be a permanent mark in their love story, was more fulfilling than any other career you could imagine.

You brought Eloise back to the small desk you kept in the corner of your store. There were vines sprawling across it, but it felt homey nonetheless. You wrote down your notes, finalized the arrangements and delivery, and had Eloise sign the agreement. You knew you were discounting your prices a tad when you handed her the receipt, but no one had to know that.

“See you in a few days!” You smiled at her, and she waved on her way out. With a sigh, you began to neaten up your space. The time you’ve dubbed the ‘in-between’ was the best part of your day. No one to greet, no sales pitch to make, just you and your flowers. What more could a girl want?

Your ‘in-between’ lasted almost an hour and a half, before the bell in front of your door chimed, signaling a new arrival. You were in the back, turning on the plant-safe light you used when there was a lack of sunlight coming in through your large shop windows. With the summer setting, it was a need. “Be right there!” You hollered from your hidden nook, fighting with the old light switch. It took a few seconds, but after a bit of flickering, the lights came on.

As quickly as you could without breaking any pots, you shuffled your way out to the front of the shop. You straightened your apron and wiped your sweaty hands along your thighs. Once you looked up, you were met with the most beautiful eyes, on the most beautiful man, you’d ever seen. “Welcome!” You said, cheerfully. You chose to ignore the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He gave a tight-lipped smile, holding on to the satchel that was draped across his broad chest. “Looking for anything in particular?” You questioned, offering him a wide smile. “Yes, actually,” he said, suddenly very comfortable, “I need peonies.” He declared. It wasn’t very often a man came in and knew what flowers to request. You were stunned for a minute, before ushering him over the the ‘Peony Point’. There was a wooden sign hung above the corner, with little paintings of peonies decorating it.

This section of the store was covered in different colors and arrangements of its namesake flower. You were especially proud of the red ones, knowing how prestigious the meaning of them can be. You let him look around for a second, noticing how drawn he was to the yellow ones. After a few seconds, you approached him again, “The yellow ones represent,” you started, but were quickly cut off. “Joy and good fortune. I think these will be perfect.”

Your mouth ran dry at the way he cut you off. You weren’t sure if it was some kind of intimidation tactic, maybe he was looking for the cheapest flowers, or if it was excitement from some life event he was about to celebrate.

“Awesome,” You forced out, a bit more timid than you usually would be with your customers. “Are you looking for an arrangement with other flowers, a plain bouquet, or some kind of planter?” The man took a look around as if he was weighing his options. “Could you do an arrangement? I need it by tomorrow, but I am willing to pay extra.” You glanced around, brain already conjuring up flowers that would match in color or size.

You nodded, “I think I could make that happen, depending on the size.” He turned back to you, with a much brighter smile than the one he’d given you earlier, “Thank you. I would prefer things with meaning, like prosperity, long-lasting love, and purity, if you could.” You once again nodded, “I think I can do that.” You assured, waving him over to your desk. You chuckled at the way he perched himself up on the stool you had for customers. It definitely was not made for people of his height.

“A medium size will do, with a white vase?” He questioned. “Let me double-check my inventory, give me one second.” He nodded in response, smiling at the way you rushed away. He could tell this environment made you happy, even front the brief amount of time he’d spent here. Your customer service skills were excellent, and your work even better. You were clearly made for this.

“I have two different medium white vases,” You emerged from an overgrown closet, holding two vases. “This one,” you raised your left hand, “Has a handle and is significantly more round, but this one,” you lowered your left hand and raised your right, “is my favorite! It has this more asymmetrical design and sharper edges.” The man smiled, recognizing that you were describing them even though he could clearly see them.

“If you say it’s your favorite, I think I have to go with that one.” You couldn’t tell if his tone was more flirtatious, or if he was just giving your enthusiasm a subtle compliment. Regardless, you could feel those butterflies again. “Awesome,” You sighed a bit nervously. “Let me get this all written up.”

You learned his name was Spencer when you swiped his card. You got another good look at his hazel eyes as you went over costs. He offered an express fee and handed it to you anyway when you declined. In return, you left your personal phone number on his receipt, just in case he wanted to get in contact about his order in a faster manner. He smiled, his face turning a bit red.

By the time you were done with Spencer, it was time to close shop. You would’ve stayed later to work on it, but you knew Casper, your three-legged white cat, would throw a fit if you were late for dinner.

You got to work earlier than normal the next day, knowing you had to get Spencer’s order done. You made sure Casper had everything she needed, before hustling out the door. Your outfit was made of pastels, allowing you to almost blend into the flowers covering your shelves. You were deeply immersed in putting together Spencer’s arrangement by the time your phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to open.

You were content with the progress you’d made, taking a step back and marveling at the start of your project. You reached for your phone to turn off your alarm, and took a moment to check your notifications. A message from an unsaved number caught your interest:

Hello, It’s Spencer. I wanted to make sure it was okay if I picked up the arrangement during my lunch break. I would like to deliver them to her after work if that is possible. Thank you for your hard work and for making time for me.

You smiled at the formal tone of his text, as it was perfectly him. However, that smile quickly fell when you realized he was delivering the flowers to a female. Obviously. Why else would a man know what kind of flowers he wanted? Why else would he worry about the meaning of them? He was in love.

And you flirted with him. You flirted with him and gave him your personal number, and he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend he is in love with.

The only thing you can think to do to hide your embarrassment is to start opening the store. You did some minimal cleanup, knowing you were going to return to your project until a customer came in. You laid out your books, which showcased your extra options that may not be on display in your store. Then, you propped open your door and flipped the open sign on.

You were determined to make this the best arrangement you’d ever made. Spencer was a man who was doing his best to impress his lady. He knew her favorite flowers, the meaning behind them, and the color of the vase he wanted to match. This was a man who cared about his girlfriend, and you were going to make sure the arrangement he took home was perfect. No minuscule attraction to him was going to get in the way of that.

You breezed through the arrangement, due to this newfound inspiration. It took maybe another hour or two before you were completely done, moved the arrangement into the vase, and were gathering all the essentials to send Spencer home with; care instructions, plant food, and even a few different cards, just in case he wanted to leave a note.

You texted Spencer back, sending a picture of your arrangement with a caption: It’s all done! You are free to pick up whenever! I hope you love it!. He replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

You busied yourself with taking care of your plants and then working on Eloise’s order. You drew up some ideas for different bouquets and vases of flowers, as well as cut some stems to use to show her the different mixes and matches you could make with the flowers she’d picked. You’d almost forgotten about Spencer’s pick-up by the time he arrived.

“Hello,” Spencer greeted, breaking you out of your hyperfocus. “Spencer!” You cheered, rubbing your hands on a towel, before moving to shake his. “Oh,” he hesitated, “I don’t really shake hands.” You nodded in response, before waving him over to the table where his order was.

His face lit up as soon as he laid eyes on it, “It’s beautiful!” He marveled. Those butterflies in your tummy started to flutter again, against your will. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, not used to the attention. “I’m sure your girlfriend will love it.” You promised, moving to bag everything up for him. You were quite proud of the sustainable bags with the logo you had made.

“What?” Spencer questions, face scrunching up. That embarrassment from earlier started to bubble up in your stomach, killing the butterflies. “I was just saying,” You hesitated, “This arrangement is beautiful, you did an excellent job selecting flowers. The receiver is very lucky.” Smooth recovery.

Spencer’s face relaxed, “I hope so. My best friend just had a baby. I couldn’t show up empty-handed, you know?” You smiled at his words. Butterflies revived.

You and Spencer wrapped up. He paid his final dues and you educated him on the use of plant food. “I will let you know how she likes it!” He promises as he disappears out the door, awkwardly shuffling out. You chuckled at him, and a sense of relief washed over your body.

Casper was content next to you on the couch. You were surprised at how calm he was, despite the opened bag of popcorn on your lap. You were completely serene, engrossed in the newest episode of your show. Nothing could disturb you at the moment.

Except for your phone buzzing on the coffee table in front of you, lighting up with ‘Spencer’ written across the top. You smiled, paused the episode, and waited a few seconds before swiping on the call, answering it with a cheerful, “Hello!”

“She loved it! She absolutely loved it!” Spencer cheered, too excited to allow himself to question why he was calling you. It was like a gut reaction from him. After leaving JJ’s hospital room, he immediately reached for his phone, feeling a need to let you know. He was glad you’d given him your personal number.

“I’m glad, Spencer!” You responded. He could hear your smile from over the phone. “She asked me to be the godfather!” Spencer informed. His rambly, awkward self was completely gone, overcome with glee. “How can I thank you?”

You laughed at his question. He didn’t need to thank you, he paid for his order. Overpaid, in fact. “Spencer, there is absolutely no need. I’m glad everything worked out for you, and I’m glad she loved it.” Behind the phone, Spencer shook his head. He was alone in the train station, allowing him to be completely himself. “Let me take you out.” Spencer surprised himself with his proposal.

Of course, he’d been attracted to you the second he walked into the Cherry Bloom Barn, and his attraction was starting to turn into a crush the more time he spent around the shop. He didn’t know you yet, but he was very much interested in getting there.

Still, he was shocked at the words that came out of his mouth. He was on a metaphorical high. Adrenaline was running through him from his amazing time with JJ and the team. His long limbs were almost shaking, and yet he wasn’t nervous. He was comfortable talking to you, and that meant a lot in his world.

“I’d like that,” You stuttered out, “but, it doesn’t have to be a thanks. Take me out because you want to take me out, not because I did a service for you.” You clarified, wanting to make sure you were on the same page. “Of course!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he stepped onto his train. “I do want to take you out. I’d be honored to.”

“It’s a date.” You declared with a smile. “Alright, awesome, I’ll get back to you with a time and stuff.” Spencer couldn't believe his mind was being reduced to words like “awesome” and “stuff”, but between his excitement from being Henry’s godfather and your agreeing to go on a date with him, he was basically a puddle in his train seat.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.” You said, before moving into goodbyes. Casper’s relaxed state quickly dissipated as you squealed, letting the butterflies in your stomach win for a second.

273 notes · View notes

urautismdiagnosis · 2 months ago

Text

LANGUAGE HEADCANONS

including the vegimals, also some pirate culture lore for kwazii ig

@calamaroo

BARNACLES

Barnacles learned basic English as an extracurricular when he was younger, but he only really learned it (and gained the accent) when he went to university in Manitoba (polar bear capital of the world and the university works by, with, and for indigenous people with a lot of foreign people coming to study). he's got a similar thing with the speaking Russian and I'm gonna steal the specific language of inuktuk from you.

Also because the Arctic has so many different countries in it (although everyone in the Arctic considers themselves as just "the Arctic because wtf are u gonna do about borders? come through the snow storm and take me to another snowy white spot that looks exactly the same (to you) as the other snowy white spot I was in? FCK borders in the Arctic no one there gives a sht)

Anyways they do have a common sign language because I LOVE SIGN LANGUAGE AND WILL INSERT IT EVERYWHERE I CAN

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

KWAZII:

Kwazii did grow up with a very mixed pirate crew, although A LOT of members were either English speaking or Japanese speaking predominantly , he also watched a lot of old kids anime as a kid in Japanese as well lol. not to mention the native island cultures they often interacted with including my very fictional "meowri" (they're sphinx cats with ttattoes and very loosely inspired by Polynesian cultures)...

Because of the general culture of the pirate crew being diverse (esp cuz of interactions on ports/other crews) there was also a lot slang and terms that was known shared and sort of used as a basic communication system for everyone.

so there'd be random Spanish and Arabic terms from the most niche origin points just being used commonly, and that includes a lot of outdated ones, cultural sayings, or words that just don't exist in a lot of other languages, and etc

not to mention that because of how old the pirate clan he was a part of was (founded in 1920s) and because of the different crews there's genuinely like hundreds and hundreds of them being in these isolated communities and even being born and raised in them. so there's a lot of words that cant even be found anywhere else, so kwazii does get frustrated when he cant express what he wants to say but he just... cant even translate the word

OR the words everyone else uses for it doesn't make any sense! it... it kinda makes him feel stupid sometimes

also because his clan did work with a lot of wild animals as non tech sources of information (you feed them and then they get u good info!! for strategy, spying, whatever! and no one even blinks an eye cuz its just a crow (an extremely intelligent bird)!) but uh... the problem with that is that well alot of animals uhhhh misunderstand stuff

so that means that all the names of locations, descriptions of wild animals, ways of naming ships, and all the information would've have to have been animal comprehension friendly. not to mention be more coded cuz of non-friend pirate clans and G O V E R N M E N T S- so I'd get some wacky name replacements for all sorts of things.... its really a mess XD, a beautiful mess but still

also explained why so many of the pirate tales about *insert scientific name of the episode's animal* was often over exaggerated with strange details... including ones pirates shouldn't even known. Like how could they know about sword fish making the water around them warm?

its because a lot of that info CAME from the animals... animals who... don't understand numbers and say things like "and it was 20 feet tall!" even if it was only 5.... because it FEELS that tall to the small animal yk? also not understanding science on a deeper level so its all explained in a strange way. Ofc the pirates DONT help the issue because they be exaggerating the hell out of their own stories-

yeah sure the snake was "long as the river itself" Cj and SURE it was 20 sharks or whatever and not THREE that chased you kwazii

lying in story telling is just a form of pirate love actually, so is pranks and pickpocketing but kwazii refrains lol... this turned into me yapping about the blorbo

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

BASIC COMMUNICATION SKILLS:

Speaking of the basic communication thing, the octonauts crew was trained on the main words for rescue related communication in more common languages like Arabic, Chinese, Spanish, etc and will take time to learn (or just refresh) before heading to a new location.

Because in my own au the communication abilities of the wildlife is a lot more limited based on their level of intelligence. so an orca would technically be bi lingual in their own orca language and be able to speak nearly identical to a humanoid person

also like I said before about sign language, BASIC PIRATE SIGNS THAT ONLY OTHER PIRATES KNOW AYYYYYYYYY

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

DASHI:

Australian Dashie my beloved<3 honestly she WOULD have learned several languages and learned more for/from her friends shes so capable and incredible fr. also FCK it MORE sign language! I headcanon shes CODA, which means you're the child of one or two parents who are both either hard of hearing or Deaf! so she actually was learning sign very VERY young from her mom <3 and well the rest of her family cuz they all knew it lol

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

PESO:

peso is obviously bilingual and he's the BEST at the basic communications skills thing and most well versed cuz he deals with the most animals one on one, so he actually can communicate with pretty much all the animal creatures, even taking the time to learn some slang terms the animals might have learned so that they'll feel safer and more comfortable around him!

he also picks up on a lot of dialects especially since his cousins are so diverse

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

TWEAK:

as for tweak she knows a lot of Spanish actually because hey! Miami has A LOT Spanish speakers, so much that's its actually made an entirely new developing dialect unique to the area!

tweak actually understands a decent amount of Japanese and Russian but.... not for normal conversations, more like because of all the engineering studying she did! research papers, studies, articles, lectures, books etc etc... so she could probably have a full conversation about the physics and math of submarines in those languages but if you wanted to talk about like... how you're feeling today or what you want for dinner she can not answer that LMSO

INKLING:

inkling would absolutely know like SO many languages, I have the headcanon that the reason he actually met barnacles in that university was actually because he studied LAND SPECIES for years (and continues to enjoy observing his crew and doing behavioural experiments on them without anyone noticing, esp since they're so diverse and they're in such a unique social environment on the octopod! but shhhh don't tell the others it would ruin the natural response they have! he does this with love btw)

hes also literally mega brained so I'd be surprised if he didn't at least understand the basics of any language the octonauts knew purely based on his own curiosity....

SHELLINGTON:

hehe Gaelic go brrrrrr

also because I headcanon Shellie as being a a mix of Eurasian otters and small clawed Asian otters, I think he does have some Philippine heritage and knows some Tagalog but not that much and he's a bit sad about that in all honesty. his *ss would also know latin

VEGIMALS:

IVE BEEN PLANNING TO MAKE A VEGIMALESE LANGUAGE POST:

ok so basically their language is entirely unique and not just because of them being the only known vegimals:

the thing is that their vocal cords (or vegetable/fish equivalent) isn't really made for the languages they hear on the octopod... or English.

the thing is they are their own little pod, and during their earliest developmental years they spent the MAJORITY of their time only with eachother or with shellington, what this means is that while some of the verbal and auditorial cues they have is just innate to vegimal understanding- (and also had difficult time replicating sounds shellington made, while it being easier to replicate a word one of the other vegimals made)

they quite literally made their own words for a lot of things while talking with eachother, before shellington had even realized! a lot of their language development did formulate very similarly to english (and Gaelic) because that's what they were hearing from shellington!

as they continue to grow and get older (they're really only about like 11 to me) their English has actually improved a lot, because they've learned how to mimic the others better, that's how they learned that the vegimals still used a lot of the literal baby talk words that shellington used with them while they were growing up, but just in their own original language

not to mention a lot of their language does have a lot of the meaning derived from the enunciation, tone, rhythm, and etc... so that means its a bit harder for those who just.. don't have the built in brain biology to distinguish those sounds to understand them

ofc shellington did literally raise them so its much much easier for him to understand because (whether he realizes it or not) he was actually learning the language AS they developed it! ofc over the years the other octonauts have actually started to subconsciously pick up on the meanings of those more subtle language features of vegimalese, and combined with knowing the vegimals slang/phrases, and the vegimals learning how to replicate more and more English ones, their understanding of the vegimals only keeps increasing

but to anyone else who isn't an octonaut its.... kinda like hearing a lil guy yip yip a bunch of gibberish and then everyone else in the room going "oh yes of course! that's a great idea Tototofrit! and don't worry, well make sure our fish friends aren't scared as we perform your very clever and crafty plan!"

also my friend said I can pull off a decent vegimal accent so if anyone wants any tips lmk (I would stim in vegimalese in middle school btw LMSO but I did learn a decent amount on how they pronounce things and their speech patterns... still working on perfecting it but I got some starter tips LOL)

also the reasons halibeet and pikato don't show up as much as the other vegimals is because they're just genuinely more introverted, halibeet and pikato do enjoy each other's quiet company tho (as well as the other vegimals, but they're really more homebodies who just aren't as into the whole adventure stuff)

65 notes · View notes

boombox-fuckboy · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!

I have been following this blog for a while now and I love using it to find new podcasts. I was wondering, if you have time, what you think is the scariest podcast you've listened to or what your favorite horror podcasts might be? Thank you, and I hope you have a great day :)

I'm so glad to have helped you find new shows!

I don't really get scared by horror podcasts (not sure why. It isn't some "I'm tough" thing, I get startled by the toaster, and it's not like I never feel unsettled or concerned or icked out at podcasts, just not scared) so I'm not sure I can give you a good answer on that one, but I'll gladly give you ten of my personal favourites instead:

Alice Isn't Dead: The podcast that got me into podcasts. A truck driver travels the USA looking for her wife, who until recently, she had thought was dead. Along the way she has all manner of strange encounters, and sees a side to the world that few truely comprehend.

Archive 81: A young archivist takes a job at a remote outpost organising and digitising a collection of tapes. On the tapes is a series of interviews and investigations made by a social worker in the 90s as she becomes familiar with a bizzare apartment building. The archivist, naturally, has an increasingly bad time. Each season is part of the same story, but they're all a bit different.

Ghost Wax: Recorded interviews conducted by the last surviving necromancer, and various people who died under seemingly otherworldly circumstances.

Hello From The Hallowoods: Supernatural and cosmic horror. A powerful and dramatic entity visits your nightmares to relay stories of the people (to varying degrees of both human and alive) who inhabit the beautiful and deadly Hallowoods. What start off as individual stories quickly connect to a larger narrative.

Hi Nay: A supernatural horror following a young woman named Mari, who's babaylan (shaman) family background draws her into helping people with various horrific supernatural problems around Toronto. Formatted as phone calls to her mother telling her what's happened.

I Am In Eskew: Often-horrific stories from a man living in something that very much wishes to be a city, and a private investigator who was, in her words, hired to kill a ghost. Many people seem to agree this one is scary.

Janus Descending: A xenoarcheologist and a xenopaleontologist are sent to investigate and sample the ruins of a long-dead alien city, and discover more than they anticipated. The format for this one is really clever: you hear her audio logs first to last, and his last to first, and the story is all the more heartbreaking for it. I'd recommend listening to the supercut.

The Lost Cat Podcast: A man befriends strange entities, loses bits of himself and drinks an awful lot of wine while looking for his cat. Soft and cosmic horror.

The Moon Crown: The shortest on this list, but also one of the most fascinating. A disgraced scribe living in a city of humans, beasts, and other bizzare entities, begins to recount recent happenings, and actions she has a hard time explaining, on broadcast. But the people she's hoping to reach might not be the ones listening.

The Silt Verses: In a modern world where gods are plentiful, both illicit and commercialised, two disciples of an outlawed river god go on a pilgrimage.

Although, maybe some other listeners can help me out and share what scared them?

#Please do note that these are not necessarily the *best* horror podcasts. They're my favourites.#audio drama #alice isn't dead #archive 81 #ghost wax #hello from the hallowoods #hi nay #i am in eskew #janus descending #the lost cat podcast #the moon crown #the silt verses #Or like. Some of my favourites.#hopefully this all makes sense I am sleepytired

263 notes · View notes

darlingofvalyria · 2 years ago

Text

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fluff #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

589 notes · View notes