#and being unable to follow them bc he loves these people and he knows no other way to show it

[epiphainie]

i can't with all these "the show is highlighting tommy's jealousy, they're planting seeds that it will cause problems" takes like bffr. he mentioned being envious over the 118's dynamic twice, sure, but in what world (literally how?) would that cause a relationship problem? do yall expect him to be in cahoots with gerrard behind their back and murder buck to take over his life or something?? like even with the hyperbole aside, i genuinely cannot see how they can turn this into relationship drama without going against everything they showed us with tommy so far

[introspectivememories]

touch-starved bernard dowd is sooo canon to me

[vivwritesfics]

Moon Goes To A Grand Prix

Blurb bc I'm once again sick and dying

Series Masterlist

Moon the raccoon wore his little blue harness as his mom scanned her way into the paddock. It was the Friday of the Miami Grand Prix, meaning the paddock was just a little quieter than the Saturday and Sunday.

Everybody in the paddock stopped to stare as Moon came trotting past. He walked just a couple of steps ahead of his mom, like a loyal dog on a leash.

When they got to a busier part of the paddock, Y/N scooped Moon into her arms. "Should we go and find your dad?" She asked him as she scratched the top of his head.

She walked through the paddock with Moon in her arms, heading towards the Williams garage.

They were stopped several times along the way, with Daniel Ricciardo being the first. "Moon!" He shouted as he strode towards them.

Y/N held Moon towards him and Daniel took him from her like he was a baby. He turned towards photographer's facing them, getting a picture with Moon. "I can't believe Moon is finally attending his first Grand Prix," he said, handing him back to his mother.

"Hes grown so much, I know," Y/N answered, placing him back on the floor. Immediately Moon set about sniffing Daniels shoes. "We're off to go and find his dad," she said along with her goodbyes.

The next person to interrupt their journey was Oscar Piastri. "Moon Moon!" He called the moment he saw him.

Moon went trotting towards him, happy to let Oscar pick him up. "There's my favourite nephew."

"Nephew, Osc?"

"Yeah," Oscar answered, holding Moon against his McLaren shirt. "We've got to get him in Orange at some point."

"Well, when Logan and Lando are teammates, I'll consider it," she said with a cheeky grin.

Oscar rolled his eyes in a very unserious manner. "Has he been introduced to everyone yet?" He asked as she began walking away, still holding Moon. Y/N had no choice but to follow.

Oscar insisted on introducing Moon to as many of the people at McLaren as possible.

When a little raccoon came trotting up to him, Lando ran away, again in an unserious manner. But Moon loved the chase and found himself climbing up Lando's jeans.

On their way to the Williams garage they were stopped by Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc, all insisting on saying Hello to Moon. Carlos Sainz insisted on giving him food and Lewis Hamilton was only to happy to meet him.

Eventually Y/N got to the Williams Garage with Moon. "Where's your dad?" She said to him and he pulled on the leash, almost as if he understood up.

Logan didn't notice them at first. His back was to them as he spoke to his engineers.

Y/N let Moon get closer. She let go of his leash as he climbed up Logans leg.

Finally, Logan turned around. He grabbed Moon from his leg and held him in his arms as he looked around for his girlfriend. "Hey," she said, grinning up him.

Holding Moon cradled in his arms, Logan walked over to his girlfriend. "Hey," he replied, unable to hide his smile as he dipped his head down and kissed her.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to hold him close, but with Moon in the way she couldn't. So, she settled for tucking herself into his side. "Moon and I wanted to wish you good luck today," she said, closing her eyes as she leaned against his shoulder.

"I've got my good luck charms here, I'm bound to do well."

But Y/N shook her head at that. "Ah, Fuck, Logan. You jinxed it."

Before he could respond with anything other than a laugh, there was a shout from across the garage. "IS THAT MOON?" Cried Alex Albon as he came running towards them.

It was fine, the three of them would get family time later.

[chelseeebe]

and they said, speak now

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!

a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.

a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.

“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.

steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.

“and i’m invited?”

“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.

eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”

robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.

perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.

maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?

but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.

-

the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.

eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.

“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.

robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.

jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.

there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.

-

eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.

“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.

he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.

it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.

they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”

it’s you.

they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.

everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.

but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.

“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.

it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.

eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.

fuck.

you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.

it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.

“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.

the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.

“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.

“long,” he smiles meekly.

there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.

besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.

“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.

he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.

your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”

mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.

eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.

eddie doesn’t count on it.

-

eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.

pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.

fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.

eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.

but he’s gotta try.

- reader’s pov -

it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.

you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.

but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.

you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.

“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.

“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.

“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.

he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.

you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.

something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.

alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.

if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.

“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”

the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.

“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.

eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”

“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.

his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”

“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.

if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.

but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.

he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”

there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.

“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”

“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.

it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.

you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”

he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”

“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.

he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.

you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.

a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.

about what could’ve been.

somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.

eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.

you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.

it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.

and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.

but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.

the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.

your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.

the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.

it’s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.

his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.

eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.

his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.

your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.

the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.

cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.

your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.

“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”

a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.

marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.

the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.

eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.

your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.

“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.

your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.

“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.

it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.

eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.

with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;

fuck, shit, love you, love you.

your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.

“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.

he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.

“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.

you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.

eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.

your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.

finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.

it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.

“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.

his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.

eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.

“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.

“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.

you swallow, “what else is there for me?”

getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?

his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”

almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.

eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.

buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.

tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.

he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.

the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.

-

you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.

six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.

but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.

a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.

sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.

“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.

“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”

she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”

her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.

- eddie’s pov -

steve notices something’s up immediately.

dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.

“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.

the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.

the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.

he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.

because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.

sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.

they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.

concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.

eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.

he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.

slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.

he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.

you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.

“i came to find you,” he says, simply.

because he would, he’d do it in every life.

your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.

“you don’t look fine.”

your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.

your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.

then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.

eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.

so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.

“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”

he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”

promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.

he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.

you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.

nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.

“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.

“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

HEYYYY

Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.

Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.

So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.

Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️

Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.

‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.

‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.

‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’

Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.

‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…

Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.

The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.

‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’

Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’

You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.

He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.

‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.

‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.

Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’

You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’

‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’

‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.

‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.

‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’

‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.

While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.

You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.

‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.

‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.

‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.

‘Sorry.’ You apologised.

‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.

Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.

‘Nope.’ Dick started.

‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.

‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’

Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.

[theeoriginals]

Ok so how about a cat and mouse!reader x elijah follow up where she’s back in town and they haven’t seen each other since their last meeting, and she’s caught by him taking something but he’s just happy to see her again so he lets her get away with it bc she’s charming and he loves the chase and banter and flirting 😩

hard to forget | elijah mikaelson

author's note; someone else asked for part 2 to cat and mouse, so here is a small little thing for them :)

warnings; witch!female!reader, elijah is astronomically down bad, fluff, mention of stealing but it's fine, reader is flirty and confident. no use of y/n!

"We've got to stop meeting like this."

"I quite like seeing you like this," She turns with a smile, wicked and sharp, but a genuine happiness shines in her eyes, especially when she sees the smile Elijah fights off at the sight of her. "You're so sexy when you're being all righteous."

Elijah huffs, ignoring the fact that she can make him feel like a blushing boy again. "You're insatiable. And you told me you were going to leave this here when I caught you trying to take it the first time I brought you here."

She purses her lips in a pout when he plucks the figurine of the black cat from her hands, setting it back on the shelf it'd been collecting dust on in the touristy museum tucked into an old building in the Quarter.

"Can a girl not have a hobby anymore?" She nearly whines the words as he approaches her, lifting her hands to drag her nails along his waist, catching on the fabric of his buttoned shirt. "I got bored, baby,"

He hums, looking at her with some twisted mix of reprimand and amusement. "Most people read a book when they get bored. Or go on a walk."

"Both of those sound absolutely mind-numbing."

He huffs out a laugh, unable stop it even though he knows it will just enable her further.

Her answering grin proves that point immediately.

"I do it for us, Elijah,"

"Oh, really? And how, exactly, does this benefit us?"

She straightens her shoulders, meeting his gaze unwaveringly confident. "I get bored and I go looking for things to entertain me, and you ultimately find out and follow me, and then we get to play our fun little game that I know you love. One way or another, it ends up with us in a similar position to this and we're both happy."

Elijah's smile grows more fond as she goes on, and he shakes his head with poorly feigned exasperation. "Darling–"

"I know, I know," She groans, rolling her eyes. "Let's just go. I'll have to find something else to entertain me, I suppose. Maybe I'll ask Klaus if he needs something done,"

"I almost hate that option more. You've only just returned from his last errand, I'd at least like to share a meal with you before you're running off again."

She throws him a wink as she turns him around, pushing him towards the door.

"Don't worry, I won't let him send me far so soon again," She reassures him, fingers skating along the shelf as she follows him out the door back outside into the throngs of people. "I've missed you, you know. I don't like running off to every corner of the country."

Elijah spares her a glance, trying and failing to not look pleased with her words. "You do like it," He corrects her softly.

"Alright, I do," She concedes easily, earning a light chuckle from him. "But I don't like being away from you."

"Does your flattery ever end?"

"You wanna find out, beautiful?" She raises her brows pointedly, earning a ragged noise from him that's choked off as he adjusts his tie, and the flustered action sends her off into a laughing fit that echoes over the noise of the Quarter and has him smiling in spite of himself.

He follows after her swift pace like a loyal dog, hands tucked in his pockets as they slowly weed out from the crowds and make their way towards the compound that's much less populated these days.

As they reach the courtyard, Elijah reaches for her elbow, tugging her back towards him, earning a slightly surprised noise from her as she catches herself with her palms flat on his chest. "How much joy does it bring you to render a thousand year old vampire speechless?"

"I don't think I could accurately describe it, even if I spent the next hundred years trying,"

He shakes his head and finally, finally, leans his head down to press his lips to hers and she hums into the kiss, satisfied with the outcome of all of her teasing.

She was right, after all. They always end up here.

Elijah pulls away after a moment, resenting the need for air in favor of tasting the sweet warmth of her skin again. He's silent for a moment, head tilting just enough to be noticeable, and then he lets out a long sigh. "Niklaus would like to speak to you,"

"I know, I'm ignoring him."

Elijah relishes in his brother's faint, outraged noise, but knows that he won't come disturb them just yet. "Don't let him send you off just yet. I would like to see you again tonight, at least."

"I won't, I promise. We'll have dinner, and a drink or two. I'd also love to end the night in your room, if that's alright with you,"

Heat floods his cheeks and he briefly looks away from her, just to shake himself of her flirtations. "Whatever you want, darling."

She smiles like he's just given her the keys to the city.

Hours later, after their dinner, after their drinks, after they end the night and start the next day with whatever she wanted, Elijah wakes long after she's left on another of Klaus's errands, keeping to her promise of not going far.

When he turns over, his eyes catch on the small, black cat figurine sitting on the table beside his bed. Elijah falls back onto the bed, laughing to himself. Utterly, absolutely besotted with the woman.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Heeeeey! If you wanna right about Hoffman, I had this on my mind. (I wouldn't mind if you don't like it btw)

Reader is Strahm's wife. Their mariage is not going so well because of Jigsaw case. For some reasons there's a party at the police station and partners are allowed. But Strahm being work alcoholic, he left his wife alone during this event. Of course she seam bored and doesn't know any other of Strahm coworkers.

Mark being bored as well and knowing very well the reader is Strahm's wife. He decided to have a little fun with her, so of course there's flirting and sex jokes. He invites her at his place and they have a "funny" time together.

The next morning, Strahm is looking for his wife to go home but he can't find her. He calls her and he's only greeted by "Hoffman." :3

I instantly fell in love with this request and I’ve been writing it and dedicating so much time into it bc I love it so much!!! AHHHHHH. Thank you anon 😘

Mark Hoffman x Strahm’s Wife!Reader

CW: infidelity, drinking, oral f!receiving, degradation, p in v, kinda possessive mark??, some minor biting, creampie

~~~

You stood with arms folded over your chest. Anger brewing inside you. Feeling like a volcano ready to explode.

Here you were at your husband’s work party, with your husband’s coworkers, in a dress your husband picked out for you. Yet who just blew you off to head down to his office? Your husband.

Rushing downstairs so that he could investigate more on the Jigsaw Case.

He returned late night after night. Blowing off plans, ignoring every phone call, sleeping at the station sometimes, never asking how your day was. Ever since he took that stupid Jigsaw Killer case, he was not the same man you married. Obsessed and manic over finding who this guy is. You could not take it much longer.

You sat at the small round table in your dining area waiting for him to get home. He barged through the door around 8 p.m. The party started at 7. You were dressed in the dress he had picked out for you. He sighed as he hung his jacket on the back of the door, eyes not even coming up to meet yours.

“We need to talk,” you broke the silence between you.

He rolled his shoulders and eyes as he tugged at his tie. Ignoring you entirely. Heading towards your shared bedroom. Well, previously shared. Since he started coming home late, you decided to start sleeping on the couch so that he could have a better night’s sleep. That was the reason you told yourself anyway.

“Peter,” you dared. Anger spitting from your lips like venom. You heard him groan from the other room, coming back where you were in a new outfit. “We need to—“

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Y/N. Can’t you fucking save it til after the party?! We’re late already and I don’t have time for this!” Peter barked out at you. Heart sinking into the pits of your stomach as you gripped the paper on the table. Your lip twitched with rage.

Silently you stood up and began out the front door. Peter sighed as he followed closely behind you. A completely silent ride to the station followed…

And now here you were. Alone with a bunch of people you hardly know. Having to pretend like your marriage was not falling apart at the seams. Acting like your divorce papers did not lay on your kitchen table as you stood there.

You awkwardly exchanged casualties with each of his coworkers. Explaining how he had a big case he was working on and that’s why you were here all alone. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as person after person gave you an awkward look when you told them work was more important to your husband. Pity written on all of their faces.

Unable to bare the embarrassment any longer, you walked over to the open bar they had set up. Getting some of your favorite liquor mixed with your favorite soda to sip on. Hoping the alcohol would soothe your nerves. Observing as everyone else mingled happily. Wondering why your husband left you out of most gatherings with his coworkers. Maybe if he cared more you would be more comfortable with all these people.

“Y/N?”

A familiar voice broke you from your spiraling thoughts. The only of Peter’s coworkers you were familiar with: Mark Hoffman. He always seemed to be the one lingering late alongside your husband. Sometimes when you would wait at the station for Peter to be done, Mark would keep you company. Something that always enraged your husband. You had known Mark for quite sometime. Casually texting from time to time. Mindless compliments coming from him when he would notice you changed your hair or got your nails done. Always sending you some kind of gift on your birthday, a day you would often spend alone seeing as your husband valued work over you.

“Hi, Mark,” you smiled.

“What’re you doing here all alone?” He raised an eyebrow looking around for your husband. Making himself a drink as he stood next to you. The smell of his cologne taking over your senses. Had he always been this attractive?

“Well. Peter is out with his real wife right now,” you joked. Mark looked perplexed. “That stupid Jigsaw Case. He’s been more committed to that than he’s been to me our entire marriage,” you solemnly laughed.

“I honestly thought you’d be down there with him,” you folded your arms over your chest.

“Your husband isn’t exactly a huge fan of mine,” Mark sipped at the cup in his hand.

“I’m starting to think he isn’t of me either,” you sighed. Pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. Mark side eyed you while you were not looking.

“Trouble in paradise?”

You snorted. “Paradise? Please. Closest thing I’ve came to paradise is a little purple bullet in my bed side drawer. Let’s just say, he’s got a surprise on the table for him when he gets home. If he ever comes home again.” Mark chuckled.

“Well, I hope he realizes what a good thing he’s losing,” Mark looked around the room while sipping his drink. Your face burned with his words. His nonchalant compliment pooling inside you. You stared at him. Taking an interest in his thick hands. How they made the red solo cup look small. Wandering to his broad chest. How it rose and fell with each deep breath he took.

“Are you normally this obvious when you undress people with your eyes?”

You awkwardly laughed at getting caught checking him out. Your hand rubbed your neck trying to cool yourself.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been doing the same thing,” Mark smirked. You shot a look over at him. Catching his deep blue eyes with yours. Seeing how they stared at the small about of breast revealed by your low cut collar. You poked at his nose, leading his eyes up to yours. His soft eyes stared into yours now.

“You wanna do a shot with me?”

Mark blinked at your question. Watching as you grabbed the most expensive bottle of tequila from the table, pouring both of you a shot. You held the small glass out to him. Smugness written on your face as Mark hesitantly took it from you. You took your glass between your lips, taking the shot back without your hands. Giving Mark a sort of spectacle to watch. He sucked his teeth as he finished his shot. The sight of you with your lips wrapped around the glass sending his mind into a frenzy. “Fuck,” he thought.

Mark leaned his lips into your ear, “Bet you’d look real pretty choking around my cock.”

Arousal flooded your body. Your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. You smiled as you turned to meet his gaze. Pushing him away in a flirtatious way, red cheeks decorating your skin. He smiled watching you get completely flustered over him.

“Is that normally how you get women to fuck you?” You teased, pulling at his tie.

“I’ll do whatever if it means you will fuck me,” he emphasized that you were what he wanted. You thought back on all the late nights you had shared. Pieces of some things you had previously thought were innocent falling into a more sexual light.

You took another swig of your drink. The alcohol beginning to blend together with the drink. Your cheeks buzzing as the alcohol finally settled there. Your finger traced his jaw, settling with a quick tap against the tip of his nose. Mark’s hooded eyes cut through you like a blade. You began walking into a vacant hallway where no other party goers were. Mark followed closely behind you into the dim lit hall.

Mark pinned you against the wall in the hallway. Both of you flirtatiously giggling. His hand rested above your head on the wall, your back meeting the chill of drywall. Eyes locked together. Smiles written across both of you. Your hands playing with his tie, his other hand resting on his hip. Leaned down posture so that you were nose to nose.

“Oh, come on. Just come home with me,” Mark grinned. Pink cheeks from the alcohol he had been sipping. You smiled, rolling your eyes at his pleas.

“Peter will kill me,” you whispered.

“He doesn’t have to know,” Mark leaned down planting his lips on yours. You melted into him, hands sprawled against his broad chest.

“I can’t…”

“I’ll show you a better night than he ever could have,” Mark took your lip between his teeth. Chills trickling down your skin. You pushed your lips back into his. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths with desperation. Hands gripped your waist like someone was trying to pull you away from him. Nails digging into his skin as you desperately held onto him.

His hands began roaming your body. One finding its place gripping your ass, pulling your fronts even closer together. The other tangling in your hair and loosely around your neck. “I’ll take you down and fuck you in Strahm’s office if it means I can have you,” Mark grumbled between kisses. The idea of you getting fucked by another man in front of your soon-to-be ex husband fluttering in your loins. You wrapped his tie around your hand, pulling at his collar.

“Let’s call a cab,” you whispered.

Mark grinned. Interlocking fingers with you and taking you out the side exit. Waving down a cab and giving the driver his address. Unable to keep his hands off you the entire ride. Half drunk kisses being planted on your neck. Fingers traced the lining of your panties through your dress. He paid the driver and practically yanked you out of the cab. Holding onto your hand tightly as he pulled you into the elevator. Lips finding yours as his hips pinned you against the wall of the elevator. Hands gripping at your chest like a hungry animal. His name a soft moan on your lips. Tugging you out of the elevator when the doors dinged open. Desperate hands struggling with the key to his apartment. Your arms wrapped around him from behind, fingers ghosting over his erection.

Click.

Finally, getting the door unlocked. Leading you into the dimly lit room. A lamp that had been left on illuminating the space. Mark came up behind you, helping you out of your coat. Hanging it on the rack next to his door. Such a simple, yet kind gesture. Feeling his hands wrap around you. Nose brushing against your neck, plump lips pressing tender kisses into your skin.

“What do you wanna do?” Mark innocently asked against your ear.

You stared forward at the covered windows. Still scanning around his apartment. You sighed, “Whatever you want.”

You felt his lips morph into a grin against your neck. Still pecking kisses along your jugular. His hands roamed against your thighs. Softly gripping the skin close to your core. Massaging your flesh, pulling you flush against his front. His other hand drifted up your torso, taking your throat in his grasp. Kissing your jawline. Callused hands squeezed your soft neck.

Heavy breaths fell along your skin as Mark’s hands found their way down your dress. Pinching at your nipples through your bra. Your head fell back into the crook of his neck. Lips falling against your cheek in several quick kisses.

Grabbing you and spinning you around to face him, Mark’s expression was dark. A soft smile barely written on his face as he leaned in and kissed you. You ran your hands up his chest, fingers sprawled out. Broad chest heaving with each heavy breath. Fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt as he watched you.

Mark took your hand in his, leading you through his dark hallway down to his bedroom. Turning on the soft lamp in the corner of the room. Hands finding their place on your waist again. Lips falling onto yours. Kissing back and forth softer than before. Your hands tangled in his hair keeping his lips close to yours. Pulling low grunts from Mark when you would accidentally pull his hair a little harder.

Mark lead you onto the edge of his bed. Laying you on your back as he stood completely up. Large hands pushing your dress up to reveal your lacy thong to him. His tongue came out to wet his lip. Seeing how you had already soaked through the soft material. Kneeling down to be directly in front of your entrance.

“Does he ever make you cum?” Mark’s dark eyes looked up at you from your clothed core.

You laughed shallowly. “Not really… when we do now, it’s quick so that he can get to bed. If he’s even willing,” you admitted. Mark rolled his eyes. A distasteful look on his face. Clearly angry at your ex-husband.

“What kind of man does he even think he is?” Mark’s finger outlined your wet core through your panties, “Can’t even make his girl finish? Doesn’t even care to try… what a joke.” Hot air of his words glazed over your skin. Flattening his tongue against your entrance. Causing you to arch your back further into his mouth. A wicked smirk written on his face.

“Let me take care of you,” he growled at you. Fingers curling around your pantyline and pulling them down your legs. Putting them somewhere out of your sight not telling you he hid them for himself. Staring at your dripping entrance completely entranced by the sight. Propping your legs over each of his shoulders, large hangs gripping the back of your thighs.

Mark kitten licked at your throbbing nub. Sending goosebumps throughout your body. Delving fully into you, his tongue penetrating your hole. Lips deciding to attach to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. One of his fingers coming up and finding its place inside you. Curling and pumping perfectly between your folds.

You swear nothing had ever felt this good in your life. Deep blue eyes peered up at you as he worked you. Feeling how you would spasm occasionally when he’d hit that perfect spot. Coaxing you closer and closer to your finish. The coil inside you sprang loose as you fluttered around his finger. Hips pushing up into his mouth as you rode out your orgasm on his face. “So fucking good,” you were a babbling mess as your entire body quivered. Mark smiled, pulling away from your core. His chin covered in your juices. Tongue coming out to taste you on himself.

Mark crawled on the bed with you. Lips kissing their way up your body. Stopping to suck on your nipple momentarily. Before stopping at your ear.

“You want more?”

“I need more.”

“Need? Desperate whore aren’t you?”

You nodded your head. Your face completely flushed. Mark pressed his groin into yours. Grinding his erection on your core through his pants. Collecting you on the front of the slacks. He groaned above you at the feeling. Pulling away and propping himself back on his knees. Undoing his belt with desperate hands. Shimming off his slacks revealing his pitched tent in his boxers. His erect cock causing your mouth to water at the sight. Mark palmed himself through his boxers, hooded eyes meeting yours.

Lips meeting under your ear, “You look so pretty when you cum.” Chills danced down your skin with his low tone. Heartbeat ringing in your ears as your chest heaved for air. He gently kissed you. Hands guiding you up. Helping you remove your dress over your head. The only garment on your body being your bra now. Wide palms splayed across your back as his eyes latched onto your exposed breasts. Feeling him reach for the clasp of your bra. Undoing it and pulling it down your arms. Toothy grin painting his expression. Hand reaching to grasp your soft tissue. Fingers rolling your nipples. Moans and whimpers poured from you.

Your hand roamed to his crotch. Fingers tracing up his erection. Mark’s body rutted at the sudden sensation. Blue eyes leaving your chest and locking into yours. You blushed at his strong stare. Pressing your lips into his neck. Teeth sinking into his skin as you began stroking him. His eyes squinted shut. Brows pressed together as he savored the feeling of your hand and lips on him. “Need to fuck you,” he exhaled his jaw tightening.

Pinning you down onto the mattress, Mark towered over you. Shimming his boxers off. Cock springing up. Lewdly smacking him in the stomach. Your jaw hung open at the sight of him. Thick, head swollen and leaking, vein twisting along the side, thick hair decorating the skin above it. Unable to stop yourself from comparing him to your ex-husband.

Mark grinned seeing you gawking at his member. “Like what you see?”

You nodded aggressively. Feeling drool pooling inside your mouth. Needing him more than ever. Hand gripping his base, toying with your entrance. Swirling the tip in your folds, barely dipping in. Causing you to throw your head back in pure ecstasy. The way just the head stretched you had you begging for more.

“Mark,” you pleaded, “I need it. Need you inside me so bad.”

Mark smirked. Dipping himself deeper inside your folds. You bucked against him attempting to force him deeper. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Mark leaned down kissing you tenderly, “Peter fucking Strahm… never deserved someone as good as you. Not for one goddamn minute. I’ll take care of you the way he was never able to.” He completed sheathing himself inside you as he gritted his teeth. Hate for his coworker spewing from his tongue.

Pulling himself back so he could see your face before pounding into you. Hips cracking into yours as he found himself at a ruthless pace. Your back arched as the curve of his cock hit somewhere inside you just right. Mark panted above you as he fucked you. His name a chant from your lips. Tits bouncing with the force of him.

“Dirty fucking girl. Letting me fuck you while your husband is off at work?” Mark moaned above you feeling your walls contort around him momentarily. Senses still in overdrive from your first orgasm. Knowing it would not take long at this pace for another to wash over you. Mark knew just how to get you there.

Mark’s head fell back. Thrusts falling out of rhythm. You were completely lost around his cock. Taking the best fuck of your entire life. Your fingernails dug into his back as you felt your orgasm approaching. Feeling your sensitive insides begin to tighten up preparing for the end.

You attempted to form words. Unable to say anything but his name over and over again.

“What is it, baby? Gonna cum for me again? Yeah, that’s it,” he began talking you through your finish as his finger found its place on your clit. Circling it softly to coax you over the edge. Your entire body began shaking as you came undone around his cock. Walls fluttering around his girth. Like your body tried sucking him further in. “That’s my girl, cumming around my cock. Fuck,” his lip quivered as he felt himself approaching his own finish. Head falling into the crook of your neck, panting breaths sticking to you. Sweat gleaming off both of you as Mark rammed into you.

“He never made you feel this fucking good. Strahm. That pathetic motherfucker. Keeping you away from me all this time,” Mark bit down on your neck. Licking and kissing the tender skin. Your walls clamped down on him with each brutal snap of hips. Your hands tangled in his hair feeling him grown sloppy.

“Fuck, yes, Mark,” you called out to him, “Cum inside me, please.”

Hips held their place flush against yours as he shot up inside you. Feeling how his cock twitched inside you. His hot seed coated your insides. His body slumped onto yours. He panted hard on top of you. Your hands petting down his back. Both of you lost in the feeling.

“You’re perfect,” Mark whispered softly. Remaining inside you. Loving how you felt around his sensitive member. Silently enjoying each other. Both of you breathing heavily. Savoring the afterglow.

Tiredness washed over you. Your body being worked perfectly. The warmth of the body on top of you engulfing you.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

Mark looked up at you. A certain softness you had yet to see on him. “Of course you can.”

The two of you nuzzled up in his bed together. Tangled in each other’s arms. Feeling a safety you had not felt in a long time. Drifting off into a slumber in his arms…

… Mark woke up around his usual time. Slipping away into the kitchen to make himself a pot of coffee. It was still the wee hours of the morning. The sun had yet to rise.

He hears a buzzing coming from the coat rack. Going over and pulling your phone out of your coat pocket.

“Hello?” Mark answered your phone.

“Who the hell is— Mark?! Where the fuck is my wife?!” Peter shouted into the phone.

“Are you seriously just now realizing you lost your wife? It’s nearly 5 in the morning—” Mark snarked at him.

“You son of a bitch— I’ll kill you! I swear to God, I will fucking kill you!” Peter’s vein on his neck bulged with aggression.

“Threatening an officer of the law? Better calm down before I report this, Strahm,” Mark smirked. Staring at your sleeping body in his bed, in his apartment, wrapped in his blanket.

“Oh-ho, you seriously have the balls to try with MY wife? I’m gonna kick your ass, Hoffman. I swear to God, I will fuck you up!”

“I didn’t try anything. She will come home when she’s ready,” Mark clicked off the call. Snickering to himself knowing Peter probably threw his phone through a wall and was flipping shit over this situation. He crawled back into bed with you, wrapping you up in his warm embrace.

“Mark?” you half asleep mumbled to him.

“Yeah, baby. It’s me,” he kissed your head. You nuzzled into him. Feeling deep comfort in him.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I had a really great time writing this fic and I’m very proud of it. As always, my inbox is always open so feel free to drop a request in there. I hope to write more for Mark Hoffman soon //

{tags}

@iwmflbb ~ @mrshoffman ~ @mrsmandylor ~ @heif ~

[wifeofsnowbaird]

can you do a Tom Blyth x reader where they are filming like a romcom or something and they fall in love over the course of filming? i was thinking fluff but i would not be upset if it somehow ended up with some smut in their trailer ;) , just follow your heart!! lots of love ❤️

ofc! I’m absolutely shitty at smut tho i might try with this one but idk so fluff it is❤️ it’s gonna have 3 parts bc it’s definitely gonna need more than a short post!

this first part isnt really when they're filming i just wanted Tom to have a slight crush after seeing ur story and wanted a small scene with Rachel and Josh!

So long I've been out in the rain and snow.

But the winter's come and gone, and a little bird told me so.

Part 1/Part 2/

(Tom Blyth x actress!reader)

summary: you and Tom meet for the first time while Josh is in the middle of the livestream. It's become the new famous ship of the internet.

You were one of the newest actresses in Hollywood and luckily you managed to grab a role with one of the most famous actors right now, Tom Blyth.

Ever since he starred in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, people have been thirsting for him like he was water.

You wouldn't lie, you were one of them, but you two were supposed to meet in a coffee shop, reciting your lines and you were late.

" Oh you're [Name] [Last name], nice to meet you! Sorry, my friends decided to follow me here. "

Tom grinned, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight, an apology gleaming in his pupils.

"No worries, it's fine! I'm so sorry I'm late, it was just traffic!"

" Don't worry, I'm just glad you made it!"

You took in a deep breath and extended your arm for a handshake. Surprisingly, he hugged you instead. You met the two 'friends' who are actually fucking Josh Rivera and Rachel Zegler who were seemingly livestreaming on Instagram.

" And here is the new couple! Say hi, you two love birds!"

Tom rolled his eyes before letting you go to tell Josh off.

" We aren't dating, we actually just met."

Josh turned, confused for a second before gazing at Tom's phone that was left on his chair.

"Wait, seriously? Didn't you see a post of her being your new co-star in that rom-com you're doing and started bragging a lot to Rachel and me? What's it?"

He thought for a minute before his eyes lit up and he smiled brightly.

"Oh, yeah! Sweet truth, where a girl had a bunch of exes tell lies and cheat but then finds a man who tells her nothing but the truth?"

Tom hissed and shut Josh up by covering his mouth, before he noticed Rachel leaning toward confused you, beginning to tell you the whole story.

His panicked face turned red.

" So it was a couple weeks ago, we were just calmly hanging out after reshooting some Ballad scenes when Tom showed us your Insta where you were like, I don't know, talking about the movie you're gonna be in! He was literally obsessed, I am not kidding."

She shrugged as Tom glared at her for spilling his secret.

"I'm sorry, I mean you're beautiful and I-"

He cleared his throat, unable to continue because of his embarrassment.

You giggled, shrugging.

" It's cool, I mean I think you're hot-I mean handsome too."

Inside you were literally screaming at yourself for exposing the fact that he's your celebrity crush.

" Uh, guys, I hope this isn't method acting because I'd be really disappointed in you, Tom" Josh snickered, sharing a mischievous glance with Rachel.

Tom rolled his eyes, smiling at you before beckoning to the chair beside him.

" Let's, uh, practice...?"

[nightmare-foundation]

it is only complex bc abuse is always done with purposeful intent. that is the textbook definition. who accidentally abuses someone? you don’t have to label his emotional incompetence as abuse. cause it’s not. that makes no sense… cause his character isn’t one dimensional. it’s literally just a character flaw, even if it hurts someone’s feelings. just like how jason is a hypocrite and dick practices escapism instead of dealing with his problems. majority of the times when he’s fighting another bat or bird, it’s either mutual or out of his control, so yeah ima give him grace by ignoring highly ooc comic runs. cause no one’s character is consistent, especially if you’re the freaking batman. idk, speaking generally when u literally get to build-a-bruce wayne is mainly just a skill issue, so maybe u just want him to be abusive?

Anon, abuse can absolutely be unintentional. You can unintentionally hurt people like that. Abusers don't always look at the people they abuse and think "I'm hurting and abusing them"- a lot of the time they really aren't aware they're being abusive and even think they're being helpful. I'm not saying some abusers go "whoopsie daisy!" And slip up like how you'd accidentally drop a vase. I'm saying the abuse Bruce puts the batkids through, especially Dick, is something he's doing not knowing he's being abusive or neglectful.

As an abuse victim, yes this is possible. My dad is abusive, but he isn't at all aware of it. Does he still love me to absolute bits? Of course. I don't doubt that he loves and cares for me. Is he still abusive? Absolutely. This is the case for Bruce.

His emotional incompetence is absolutely a character flaw, but how he goes about it with his kids is harmful. Take this example:

>Robin: Year One #3

This is just after Dick was nearly beaten to death by Two-Face. Bruce is genuinely afraid here, he's blaming himself for what happened to Dick and thinks that firing Dick will keep him safe. But he communicates absolutely none of this to Dick; he just yells at him, fires him, and then gives him the cold shoulder for months. Dick feels like such a failure that he runs away, thinking that Bruce doesn't want him around anymore. And i don't think this is ever really rectified or resolved. Dick becomes Robin again, but Bruce insists that he follow orders like a "good soldier".

And this incident still weighs heavy on Dick years later, thinking of it as his failure, especially since the whole situation was so traumatizing.

>Robin #0

And this is just one example of Bruce being emotionally incompetent and hurting Dick in the process. There's also the entirety of Batman #416, Batman #408, and NTT #55, all separate incidents where Bruce is unable to communicate and hurts Dick in the process. This is very present throughout their entire relationship, and there's far, far more examples of Bruce's emotional immaturity/incompetence being harmful, not just to Dick, but to the rest of the batkids as well (I believe it's one of the reasons Jason ran off to find his birth mother).

Bruce pretty much never communicates, not even to offer praise. This is something that frequently comes up and is even joked about (Dick being weirded out in Batman: Under the Red Hood when Bruce thanks him), but is a strong point of insecurity for the Robins. In fact, Dick wasn't even sure what Bruce really thought of him, if he thought about Dick at all (Gotham Knights #14). Jason also doesn't believe Bruce loves him, thanks to the sheer differences in communication styles and beliefs (which, honestly, the tragedy of that warrants it's own post), and I believe Damian has stated that, if it made Bruce happy, he'd stop existing (I'm not sure what comic it's from, so take this with a grain of salt). I'm not sure about Tim, honestly, since I haven't read his comics, but I wouldn't be surprised if the pattern continued with him too.

And ALL of this stems from Bruce being emotionally neglectful. A lot of issues in the batclan comes from this, honestly. Neglect is, by definition, abuse, even if it's just emotional neglect. This is often paired with Bruce miscommunicating if not outright being verbally abusive (such as yelling at Dick, as seen above), or even physically abusive (Nightwing #30, NTT #55, and at least half a dozen other instances with Dick alone).

Speaking of, I also don't believe Bruce being physically abusive is actually OOC, mostly because it's a trait that's been present since the Golden Ages, and Bruce is the one who decided beating up criminals was a good alternative to therapy. Bruce in general has a lot of anger issues, and is a pretty violent person. This is nothing new, and if you don't count the Golden Ages as canon, it's been at least present since the 80s. It's been consistent over a long period of time, and because of that, i really don't see Bruce being physically abusive as OOC, except for in certain cases (such as RHATO #25 and Gotham War, both incidents that I don't believe are in character when it comes to Bruce's opinions on Jason killing based on previous comics).

I don't really "want" Bruce to be abusive. I think it'd be better if he wasn't, but at this point, the batkids' characters hinge on him being abusive or at the very least neglectful, otherwise, aspects of their characters don't particularly make sense. Also, all of this is stuff I've picked up on as I slowly get through comics and read more meta posts. I'm not the kind of person who makes things up, and if I'm proven wrong about something, I typically reevaluate my thoughts, step back, and admit that I'm wrong. And so far, I really haven't seen any real evidence towards the "Bruce isn't abusive" column beyond people saying "these comics are out of character"- which is subjective.

Also, I only don't like it when people say that he's not abusive and then list things that are abusive. Mostly because it's genuinely dangerous.

Also also, I'm not saying Bruce is irredeemable or an awful person. He certainly isn't great, but he's absolutely capable of change and he loves his kids to death. There's almost nothing he wouldn't do for them (except kill, obviously, which is honestly something I agree with him on). I think he's stubborn and hot-headed, but once he actually sees the harm he's caused, I think he's fully willing to change, even if it's hard for him. Bruce is far from heartless. He cares a lot! He's just fucked up and has a ton of unresolved trauma that messed up his parenting. I really can't state how much I believe Bruce cares for and loves his family.

Anyways, at the end of the day, I believe Bruce is abusive. Abuse has a lot of nuance to it, and to a lot of people, abuse is always done intentionally and knowing that what they're doing causes harm. But this isn't always the case. Bruce is, imo, a really good depiction of an abuser who genuinely loves his kids and thinks he's doing right by them. And I honestly prefer his character this way; Bruce is WAY more interesting to me if he's fucked up like this.

Sorry this took a minute to answer, I have a lot of thoughts on this topic.

[catiuskaa]

new task: valentine’s day.

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 10.6k (OH MY FUCKING GOD)

CW: it’s like fluffy comfort because I say so, kim seungmin supremacy (YES), use of spanglish (just on the text messages bc yes, it’s not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format for plot convenience (and a whole bunch of emojis and colors), the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), use of cliché valentine and enemies2lovers tropes (BECAUSE THEY ARE FUN AND THEY WORK), academic rivals (we love to see it), bad student reader x good student seungmin (like bad/mean girl x good boy ish), mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying?, mentions of being followed, use of (pet)names because I don’t like using ‘y/n’: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, (yes i’m just petty like that, sue me), hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is almost a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

SPECIAL THANKS! To my lovely pookies @lyramundana and @tonks-21 for ideas and support, plus also, most of the classmate’s names are thanks to gorgeous gourgeous @stayconnecteed and her spanishverse series bc i’m so invested! Go check all of their blogs out! 100% recommend. son mis chicas españolitas, hehe<3

A/N: alone on valentine’s day? same for me, pookie! but dontchu worry, mister kim seungmin is here to help us out<3 (and if not, we can always help each other😚🫶)

[☆★🌷★☆]

{PROLOGUE: THE GROUPCHAT}

At first, you didn’t really know him.

To think for a second that there was a time where you didn’t know who he was made you sigh. Oh, how you wish you had never, ever encountered him.

…Kim Seungmin.

Some may say that ‘rivals’ or ‘enemies’ is a term that could seem too intense regarding a simple statement: that you two didn’t get along.

But no. Because those kind of words were exactly how you’d define your relationship.

And it had all started the first day of your last year before graduating. When you made the class groupchat.

> you created ‘Year 13-A 😼😼’

> you added ‘lucas🤺’ ‘atenea🛐’ ‘noa🫶’ and 16 more.

> you: guys help, am I missing people?

> you: @ atenea🛐 told me to create this group for homework n stuff but idk if I have everyone’s numbers 😵‍💫😵‍💫

< noa🫶: tía you’re missing two people no?

< lara💋: hala, new people?? 👀

< noa🫶: pero- they’re literally from the other group, girl

< abril🌻: you even know them lara

< abril🌻: se te va la pinza JAJSJA

< miguel📚: sí, there should be 22 people (creo)

> you: oh right, Lix told me!

> you: yeah i’ll add them now, brb 🏃‍♀️

Well.

Rookie mistake.

> you added ‘kim seungmin™️’, ‘hyunjin🎨’

> you: omg i even added everyone

< lucas🤺: omg omg

< kim seungmin™️: omg omg so crazyy

You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly as you texted. But that was just because you hadn’t talked to him before.

Now was a different story, of course. You wouldn’t smile, not for Kim Seungmin.

> you: @ kim seungmin™️ what was crazy is how difficult it was finding someone who had your phone number, lol

< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: fr fr omg

< lucas🤺: que es omg

< lucas🤺: ‘oh me gustas’ ? omg?

< lara💋: you’re such an idiot, asshole

< lucas🤺: ohhh you love me so bad 😌😌😌

< isabel🌸: she knows better lol

< lucas🤺: dude, you’re my sister

< lucas🤺: shouldn’t you be backing me?

< isabel🌸: there’s a fee for that, dude.

You giggled at the stupid teasing, used to your mates’ shenanigans that never ceased to make you laugh.

But then, he replied.

< kim seungmin™️: @ you the only difficult thing here is you reaching graduation

…

Your smile faded.

You read that once more. Then again. And another time.

You chuckled dryly.

What was this guy on about?

> you: ah? wdym?

You remember thinking that maybe he was joking. That maybe he was someone who talked to people with a lot of harsh remarks without really meaning them. That maybe he was trying to be funny, or something.

Other texts showed up, but Kim Seungmin —named like so in the contact Felix had shared to you— wasn’t replying.

< minho🐈: guys wtf it’s 00:12

< lucas🤺: oh he uses the other clock

< lucas🤺: so its am-pm for us but not for you

< lucas🤺: think you’re special? wanna fight?

< noa🫶: lucas just shut up and go to bed

< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: damn right 🛌🛌🛌

< miguel📚: guys, stop texting 😓

> you: yeah guys lol

< minho🐈: no u started this

< minho🐈: u shush

You snickered softly, used to Minho’s humour, quickly playing along.

> you: ?! unfair ☝️🤓

< kim seungmin™️: no, minho’s right for once

< kim seungmin™️: you should shush

< kim seungmin™️: you’re less annoying when you’re quiet

You frowned at your phone, your face contorted in angry confussion.

Who did this guys think he was?

With a huff, you typed a rapid “gtg guys!”, ignoring Seungmin’s texts, and quickly settled your phone back on your pocket, getting off the bus and finally arriving home.

You groaned, the text that that Seungmin idiot had sent still rolling in your head even after you laid in bed. You passed your hands through your hair.

“Difficult to reach graduation?” You mumbled, eyes fixated ln the chatroom the sentence feeling like acid in your mouth.

Kim Seungmin wasn’t ready for how difficult his last year was going to be, solely for his stupid text message.

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}

To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.

Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.

You were mad. As fuck.

“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.

“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.

You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.

And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.

“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”

Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.

Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.

“Miss, I—”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.

Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.

Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.

It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.

You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.

< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn

< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊

You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.

You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?

The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.

“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.

“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.

Why did it always have to be him?

He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.

“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.

“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.

But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.

“Did you fix it?”

You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.

In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.

“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.

We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.

As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.

< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?

Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.

“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.

Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?

Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.

Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.

“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.

“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”

But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.

“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”

Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.

“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.

Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.

Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.

But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.

Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.

You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.

But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.

Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”

Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.

Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.

You wouldn’t see the end of it.

And he knew it.

Bitch.

So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.

Lucas chuckled next to you.

“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”

…WHAT?!

“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”

He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”

Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”

His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.

But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.

“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.

That mas was slightly terryifing.

You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.

“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”

“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.

Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.

“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”

Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.

“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”

Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.

“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.

“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”

You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.

“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.

“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.

“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.

“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”

You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.

“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”

Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t like him.”

“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.

“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Sure. Can’t wait.”

[☆★🌷★☆]

You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.

Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.

Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.

“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.

And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.

“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.

You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?

“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.

He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.

See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.

“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.

His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.

Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.

He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.

“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”

His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.

You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.

It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.

You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.

You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.

But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.

…

what were you doing?

…

WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!

You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.

He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.

In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.

This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.

This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.

But it felt real.

And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.

He panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.

He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.

He found himself enjoying this one even more.

“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

You blinked as he stood up and walked away.

What…

What had just happened?

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 2: UNDER THE STREETLIGHT}

After avoiding Seungmin like the plague all Thursday, only looking at his back when you zoned off in class, Friday arrived earlier than expected.

You hadn’t been able to concentrate at all, the thought of his sweet taste lingering in your mouth, almost letting you feel the ghost of his lips pressed against yours.

“Hello? Earth to… oh, you’re awake, Jesus.” Abril looked at you with a smile, but she was unable to hide her worried look.

“Of course I am,” you mumbled, shaking your head sideways. “What’s going on?”

“You haven’t even touched your delicious and totally-not-overcooked pasta.” Lara mentioned the cafeteria lunch as she poked it whith her fork, full of humour. “It leads to believe that you’re dealing with something far more interesting that the technical drawing homework, that’s for sure.”

You bit your lip, hesitating.

“Is it because Henry Li has been ignoring you?” Noa mentioned softly.

You blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”

He’d been ignoring you? Now that she had mentioned, maybe that could’ve happened. Maybe you would’ve realized if you hadn’t been so focused on Seungmin and whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes…

…or maybe you should look for an easier name for it.

“Uh, no, he invited me to this new place today, actually,” you brushed your hair with your hand mindlessly. “But I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” You smiled at the girls, and joined in at their conversation.

After lunch, you separated from Lara and Noa, who had literature, and Abril, who had been hanging out with a guy called Jeongin from her photography club recently, and so you headed to the study room.

It was a quiet place, quieter that what you had initially expected for a high school study room. Matter of fact, you thought it was a pity that the school closed it after class, considering that in that case you wouldn’t have to walk to the public library.

You opened the door silently, finding that there were barely any students, only three or four people studying silently. You were heading towards a lonely corner so you could listen to music in a high volume without having to pay attention if it could be heard through your headphones. Or maybe, considering that it hadn’t been a lie and that you had slept like four hours maximum, you could probably rest there until the bell rang.

You snickered when you looked to your right, finding someone struggling with the technical drawing homework that had been assigned that morning, the one that Lara and Noa had been talking about.

You gently tapped the guy’s shoulder, but spoke before he even turned.

“You’re missing this incline here,” you whispered on his ear, your arms coming above his shoulders, placing your hands above his, placing the square and bevel on the right angle. “It should be seen, but with dotted lines, get it? That way the side-view makes sense.” You added with a soft giggle.

“Oh, right. T-thank you…” he mumbled, not facing you.

You brushed it off as weird, but your sleepy self wasn’t bothered enough to notice or pry, and instead smiled, ruffled his hair and settled in your cozy little corner, placing your scarf in between your arms and rested your head on it, merely “resting your eyes”, but only if a teacher happened to come and check on the students.

Seungmin stared at your sleeping figure, eyes almost wide. He felt like his heart was going to explode underneath the layers of flesh. His hands tingled, his usually warm and sweaty palms missing the comfortable coldness of yours, so soothing and relaxing.

Either you had completely gone crazy, or he had fallen asleep trying to complete the stupid assignment. He knew you were good at technical drawing, it was one of the subjects were he wasn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when several students started asking you for help on their papers and assignments, considering that you were one of the few who was able to receive praise from the teacher, a middle-aged man with no kind of vocation with kids or teaching, by any means.

But it had never happened when he was the one in need of help, had you ever considered the idea of helping him.

He watched you, puzzled, as he had never done before, and maybe it would be the first time of many because Seungmin found himself liking what he was seeing, dare I say mesmerized by the image before him.

By you.

Your sleepy figure was as calm as he had ever seen from you, sleeping with little to no care in the world. Your hair remained stuck in a ponytail, which allowed Seungmin to notice that it left the skin of your neck visible, and despite the voice on his head saying that it was a behaviour quite like a man from the Modern Ages, just being so fixated at that small bit of skin, he couldn’t help but feel bashfully amazed.

Suddenly, he noticed you licked your lips, your eyes still closed and your small smile never faltering, but that made something start to flutter in his stomach, as if a whole lot of butterflies had been awaken at the sight of you, tranquil, and sweet, and cute, and he forced himself to stop looking at you abruptly, wondering why he had done that in the first place.

Licking your lips only made Seungmin aware of how dry his were, and action plus the thought of your lips immediately brought back what had happened on Wednesday.

Crazy. He’d gone completely crazy.

He felt his hand slowly approach his lips and he grazed them with his fingers, almost able to taste your chapstick back on his lips. Because he had been able. All Wednesday night. And a small part of him wanted more of it.

He blushed, scratching his eyes. He hadn’t slept shit, his mind betraying him every time he attempted to close his eyes instantly going back to the memory of how you stared at him after your kiss, dark pupils, and red lips, and so ridiculously gorgeous that it made Seungmin wonder why whenever he saw you he resorted to his first line in code: being mean.

He never used that side with anyone. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, because small, teasing and slightly unhinged Kim Seungmin had tried to be himself in middle school, and… well.

Let’s just say that it didn’t work like expected.

But everyone loved dorky, funny and sweet Seungmin. Even with the difference with grades, that had definetely not been appreciated in his early years, nowadays people would see that as a part of him, and he recieved praise for it, not only from teachers, but also nice classmates, who sometimes went to seek help from him.

He just needed to pretend for a bit. Smile here and there, and put on a sheepish act of bashfulness that despite it not being natural, it wasn’t totally bad. It wasn’t like middle school.

But then you came in the picture.

Something about you made Seungmin want to tease you. To see you finally look at him after battling in your head if you even should, and then, sometimes when you were mad enough, you’d glare at him, and he couldn’t help but grin. Your cheeks flushed in anger that creeped up your body, how you looked at him through your lashes or how you’d tease him back. The first time you had done that, his brain’s chemistry had changed, he was sure of that.

He didn’t care about the mean remarks, and that now seemed almost obvious, considering what had happened almost two days ago in the school bus.

But it got impossible to miss when Seungmin noticed your sleepy self shivering in your slumber. With a mental groan, careful of not making any kind of loud noise in the study room, he slowly got closer to your corner, and tried to close the windows near it. And failed, because the stupid windows were old and rusty, only able to move them a bit.

He bit his lip, arguing in his head. Would that be enough? No, it probably wasn’t, right? Yeah, it couldn’t be. Considering that you always wore thin clothing, always borrowing your mates’ jackets…

…it couldn’t possibly hurt to do a bit more, right?

Seungmin approached you further, and shook a hand close to your face, but you were dead, as still as a fallen tree, despite the sunlight that enetered throught the windows glowing on your face, the Sun in winter, that brought little to no warmth, made you shine in his eyes.

He’d see you in the public library a couple of hours later. It didn’t mean anything. He could probably tease you for sleeping in school later. Yeah. And then he’d ask for his jacket back.

Seungmin was lost in his thoughts as he carefully settled his jacket over your shoulders, and he froze when you sighed deeply, surrounded by a familiar warmth and a cozy scent that you didn’t know you had missed or needed until then, but you didn’t wake up.

He blinked when he noticed your phone in your hand, the screen suddenly turning on. He giggled at your wallpaper, which had a silly joke on it and a funny doodle of a banana.

But then his eyes trailed down to the notification that had made the phone turn on.

[3 new messages from: henry li🫧]

> sorry i didn’t get to see u yesterday, had to sort smth out!

> guys.its.totally.a.real.address.wdym.lol

> it’s the address for later, shortcake 😉❤️

…huh?

Seungmin blinked once. Twice. Nah, his glasses had to be deceiving him. Then, another notification popped up.

> can’t wait to see you ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

He winced silently.

Ugh. What a cringy choice of emojis.

Did you really like this guy?

He frowned, going back to his place in the study room.

Ugh.

He didn’t care, obviously. Why would he care? That wasn’t his business. Never was, never would be. Not like he was interested. Pffft, no. Not at all. Yeah, nah. That kiss had been a one time thing. Totally. 100%. He wasn’t thinking about it again. Nope. Nor did he want to kiss you again. Not in a chance.

Just… ugh.

It was just that… no. Scratch that. No further comments.

He sighed as he went back to his work, feeling a sudden inspiration hit him as he took out a blank paper for the English class valentine’s assignment, but not before he looked at you again, then shook his head, turning the music back on in his headphones. He started writing, drafting, and throwing papers away, getting slightly desperate at his perfectionism.

He sighed. His eyes trailed off towards you.

Slowly, words started to flow in his head. Pretty sentences, things that he had kept hidden in the back of his mind. Maybe it could be good to let it all out. It couldn’t hurt. Yeah.

So he stared writing. Vomiting word after word. And he finished earlier than expected, with two papers.

One was perfect for the english assignment. It was boring and dull enough to be handed in for a school work, but good enough for his perfectionism.

And the other… was something different.

Something that had only happened because you were there, in front of him.

He stood up, letter on his hand. He leaned against the table you were sleeping in, and settled the jacket further on your shoulders. He sighed, grabbing a pen from his pencil case, folding the letter and signed it.

Maybe it was a bad idea, he thought as he picked up his stuff from the table and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He looked at your figure once more before heading out.

It had been to check if you were still asleep, of course.

Just to check.

Yeah.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Your phone vibrated in your hand again.

And again.

And again.

With a groan, you silently accepted that there was no way you could fool an inanimate object into believing that you were still asleep.

But when you yawned and looked around and didn’t find the posters in your room, but rather a whole bunch of tables and chairs, your eyes widened.

It hadn’t been your alarm but a phone call that had awoken you.

“Y-yeah?” You mumbled, picking up the call and quickly taking your backpack and scarf and rushing out of the study room, taking a quick scan and making sure you weren’t leaving anything behind.

“I’m heading to the club now, shortcake.” A low voice greeted. “Are you getting ready?”

Who…?

“H-henry?” You frowned slightly.

You heard him snicker through the other side. “Yeah?”

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“N-nothing! Nothing, I, uh, I was just doing my make up. Y-you know.”

What? You frowned, even more this time. No, that didn’t make any sense. You always blabbered about how you never did your make up for clubbing because the one you owned was cheap and never stayed on anyways.

“Sure, yeah.”

It didn’t seem like he had noticed.

“You can head there before me. I’ll go there eventually, yeah?”

You heard him snicker on the other side of the phone call. “Ok, baby.” He cleared his throat, stuttering a bit. “Y-yeah, I mean, I’ll uh… get there in a bit. Don’t rush.”

Only then you felt that the wind from outside wasn’t freezing your bones like usual. You squinted at the jacket you were wearing.

“Henry, did you…?” But he hung up.

It probably was him. Yeah. That’s why he had called you. To make sure you’d wake up.

Besides, there were little to no people who’d do such a kind gesture towards you, and even if the jacket was pretty much your style and it smelled like heaven, it didn’t feel like something any of the girls would keep around.

So, why didn’t it made you feel giddy that Henry had given you his jacket?

You kept on running through the hallways and catched the bus that was usually there for students who had extracurricular classes, unlucky people who had to stay in school late in Fridays. You never had, using Fridays to be a bit lazy or to start homework sooner just to hand it in earlier than Seungmin.

Oh.

Friday.

Seungmin.

The library.

You bit your nails, staring through the window.

Would he wait there for long?

What was he going to do once he figured you weren’t going to show up?

Were you… feeling guilty?

No… that… that couldn’t be, you chuckled dryly. Mean decisions against Kim Seungmin didn’t spend too much time on the judgmental side of your brain. You just… teased him back. And he’d take it. And double it. And so on.

So why did this feel too mean?

Could it be because of whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes?

Could the fact that it had been the best thing that had happened in a long while?

Well, fine.

Not just ‘thing’.

A kiss.

And for fuck’s sake, what kiss.

You groaned and grunted, sprinting home as soon as the bus stopped.

Why did it always have to be him?

You entered your room and burst open your closet. The jacket was cool, you thought. And if you were going to see Henry, you could just wear it and hand it back to him in the club.

It was vintage, but its warmth engulfed you as if it had been handmade. Its funky designs and patterns looked cute, and its grey color contrasted well with it. You chose the first dress you saw, a tight black dress with no sleeves that you would’ve discarded as too short if you had more time, but it wasn’t exactly something you could’ve bragged about.

Jacket, dress, high socks, boots, wallet, phone, keys, headphones… yeah. You nodded, checking all of the boxes in your mental list, and started hurriedly walking to the address he had sent.

You hoped you weren’t going to be too late.

[☆★🌷★☆]

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

“The number you are trying to call is turned off or out of coverage. Please, leave your message after the—”

You hang up, tired of hearing that mechanic voice over and over again.

You looked around you, and there was nothing that looked like a club. You had tried to enter the building that the address lead to, but it hadn’t got well.

A strange figure opened a small window and gave you a look, almost disgusted. It took you a second to understand that they were wearing a mask, with dark lace and other colours. But just when you were about to speak, the window slammed close.

You blinked, puzzled. Where the fuck was Henry sending you? What kind of club was this?

You had started to roam around the building, trying to call him —and failing misserably, because the damn guy couldn’t pick up the fucking phone for the life of him—, but now you were starting to run out of ideas.

It was past 12pm, your legs shivered with every slight wind that swooshed your way, and there was no one that was going to pick up the phone. Not Henry, that ridiculous imbecile, not Lucas, who always bragged about having his phone in night mode, so nothing would get to him until morning, and not the girls, because Noa had her phone turned off, Atenea was most likely sleeping, Abril and Lara hadn’t picked up either, and your list of close friends who could possibly pick up was… that.

And no one was picking up the fucking phone.

You were about to keep on ranting about how disgustingly bad this was turning out to be, but you heard footsteps coming your way. You looked around, but didn’t find the source. With a frown, you walked to the building again

Placing your hand on one of the windows, who were dark and almost impossible to see through, you could notice that in the dim light from what could be seen outside, Henry was well entertained with a certain kind of company, so much that he couldn’t even pick up your phone.

You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the tinted glass. Of course. Yeah. That made total sense. It was Henry, after all. He had always been known to be kind of an asshole anyways. It couldn’t possibly come out as a surprise the fact that he actually was.

You shook your head and mentally mocked him and the blond girl he was kissing.

Henry Li could go to Hell.

Guess there was nothing left to do now. You had dumped Seungmin, and Henry had dumped you. It was an ass move over an ass move. Maybe you kinda deserved it.

But then your thoughts ended in a halt, because you swore you could feel a shadow starting to follow you from a distance.

They were behind you, but not too close, and due to their hoodie it was imposible to distinguish their face.

So you started walking. Turning left. Right. Left again. Right. Just kept on walking. Don’t look behind you. They’d probably just leave. This had to be your imagination, 100%.

But when you took a peak, the silhouette was not only still behind you, slowly walking towards you, but a slight bit closer this time.

You swallowed dry, gulped, even. Your heart tightened in your chest. What kind of joke was this? Your eyes were tearing up. You were tired, and this was mental. Adrenaline rumped through your body, and even if you were already lost, you kept on walking.

You took your phone from your pocket. Think, think, think. Who could you call? Who could pick up at one am? You scrolled down your list of contacts, until for a reason you don’t fully get, your eyes stopped at a certain name.

—> seungmeannie

It couldn’t possibly hurt to try… right?

You sniffed almost silently, and pressed call.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

You started crying a bit louder, unable to hold it back.

“Eh, hi…?”

“S-seungmin!” You sobbed, smiling. It was the first time in your life you had been that happy just from being able to hear his voice, raspy and low.

“W-what?” He stopped talking, and you guessed that it was because he hadn’t figured out who was calling him so late at night. “Do you know what time it is, you fun-sized dingus?” He groaned sleepily at the phone.

You bit your lip and sniffed.

“Wait. Are you… crying?” His tone had changed.

“I-i’m sorry about t-this eve-ening.” You sobbed, failing to hold back the tears, hugging the jacket that was still on your shoulders.

“Are you drunk, little one?” You never thought your shoulders could relax as fast as they had when his soft tone of voice called you that stupid nickname.

“N-no, I… I went to this stupid club, with-“

“With Henry, yeah.” The way he said his name, as if he wanted to put that stupid bitch in a box and send him to the end of the world took you by surprise.

“B-but um, he’s not picking up my phone and I…” you gulped. Taking a peek behind you, you shivered. “I think someone’s following me.”

“Wait, what?” Seungmin had never stood up from bed as fast as he had done that night. “Where are you?” He asked to the phone as he randomly picked a sweater and his glasses, biting his lip as he struggled to put on his shoes.

“I… I don’t know.” You sobbed. “I started walking away so he’d go, but it didn’t work.” You mumbled, sniffing. You felt so stupid.

“Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?” It was the first time in the whole afternoon that you felt like that statement could be true. Because Seungmin was going to help you. “Don’t hang up. Tell me what buildings can you see. Try heading away from small alleys. I’ll find you.”

Seungmin rushed out of his appartment, not before scribbling down what was happening in a post it note and left it on his mother’s bedside table.

“T-there are some restaurants, but they’re all closed.” You started, dubious as how was this going to work. “There’s a road to my left.”

“Can you name any of the restaurants, little one?” Seungmin had a hunch, and he huffed, sprinting to the plaza closest to his appartment.

“I just passed by a Mexican, I think.” You sniffed, Seungmin’s soothing voice working like a charm and calming you down slowly. “In front of me, I think this is a Japanese… it’s called Ginza.”

Seungmin chuckled, feeling relief flooding his body. “Y-yeah, ok! I- god, yes, I know where you are. Keep walking straight ahead. There should be a park, right?” He started running, hiding the fact that he’d have to rush and make the usual fifteen minutes it could take him to arrive where you were and make them five.

He needed to see you and make sure you were safe.

“I… shit, yeah! I can see it!” You went back to crying, a smile planted in your features.

“I’m almost there. You’re doing so well, little one.”

You felt your cheeks getting warmer at that. Walking a bit faster, you looked behind you, finding that the silhouette was still there.

But Seungmin was close. Seungmin said everything would be fine.

“S-seungmin?” You mumbled at the phone, wanting to hear his voice, so soothing and warm.

“Under the streetlight, silly.”

You heard the beep that sounded when Seungmin ended the call, but he was there, tangible, a couple of meters away from you.

You chuckled, happy to see him for the first time ever, and crying away the pent up stress and worry, you ran off to him, and clung your arms around his neck tightly, unbothered at the need to stand on the tips of your toes to do so.

Seungmin stuttered, still panting from the marathon he had ran to get there, 100% baffled at this. But it was ok. You were there. You were safe.

“T-they’re still behind me.” You whispered against his chest.

He could feel your nervousness on your tone, how scared you were judging by how strongly your arms closed behind his neck, and hesitated for a second before hugging you back, his arms pulling you closer by your lower back, keeping you grounded and so weirdly safe in his grasp, and it felt so strangely comforting coming from him that your eyes swelled with more tears.

You couldn’t see or feel the person behind you anymore, but Seungmin did, somewhat clearly.

The only thing that his mind made up that moment is that for the person to leave, they’d have to believe you two did know each other.

And Seungmin’s heart beated loudly in his chest when your grasp loosened and you stood back on your feet, allowing him to see how your lip trembled, how you were holding back tears and how you looked at him with a million emotions hidden in the colour of your eyes. He had never seen you cry before.

His hands itched to touch you again, a sudden need to comfort you that overwhelmed him.

So he did.

His hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears, and he pecked your lips softly, smiling at your baffled face. His arms engulfed you in a comforting hug that smelled so much like the jacket you were wearing.

He looked behind you, and the silhouette was nowhere to be found. As if it had never been there before.

“It’s ok.” Seungmin whispered in your ear. “I’m here now. You’re safe. They’re gone, yeah?” His arms rested on your shoulders as his slender hands stroked your hair. “No one’s gonna hurt you now, pretty.”

And you started to cry on his shoulder, because not only then you realized how bad you had needed a hug, and not even the fact that it had been a hug from him that you had secretly yearned for, but because none of your excuses made sense now.

There was no ‘fake’ or ‘real’ Seungmin.

Whatever he was, fake or not, stood in front of you as he hugged you under the streetlight.

And you sighed as he cooed at you softly, because deep down you had known for a while.

It was time you came to terms with it.

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 3: WINDOWS, LETTERS AND POEMS}

Wednesday. 9:56 am. 14th February.

Most of your classmates were still arriving from their next class as you stared at two papers in your hands slightly from afar, pencil in your lips.

You had discarded most of your creations all Monday and Tuesday when you finally ended with a draft you liked for the stupid english homework. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

But the letter in your other hand, however, was something you had never done before.

“What’s that you got there?”

Any kind of bubbly and nervous emption you had vanished at the sound of that low voice.

“Fuck off, Li.” You grunted in a husky tone, frowning at him and grabbing back the letter from his hands.

“Is it a love letter for me?” He chuckled, ignoring your behaviour.

“Why the fuck would I write that, huh?” You laughed, a chuckle full of acid, one that had much more hatred that you had ever said before.

Henry brushed a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help but think he looked stupid. You had liked this guy? Ugh.

“Because today is valentine’s day, shortcake.”

You squinted and frowned at him.

“Swishing those dyed and damaged locks like a Loreal advert won’t make anyone fall in love with you.” You snorted, and realized the people in the hallway had fallen into silence, listening to your conversation. “Or maybe it worked with that blond girl in the club?” You pretended to ponder out loud, leaning against the locker behind you, facing him with confidence.

“Wait, what?” He mumbled.

You snickered, taking him by surprise. “Oh, silly. I was never going to date you. I kept hearing that you were an ass and figured that was right, because aside from me, little to no people talked to you. I guess I just felt pityful.” You faked a pout.

He clenched his fists, his shoulders tense.

“You’re lying.” He grunted.

You chuckled. “You wish I was. That blond girl didn’t steal my man. She stole my problem.” You heard some gasps from the people in the corridor, as they had formed some kind of circle around you two.

But then, Henry snorted, and cleared his throat, talking with a much louder voice. “So you’re not going to let everyone know about you and Seungmin?” He smirked. “I feel like that’s a bit unfair. Making it seem like I’m the bad guy and all.”

You tried hard to make it seem like that hadn’t surprised you. You were so surprised by it that you didn’t have time to react when he yanked your letter from your hand.

“Such sweet words, all dedicated to him,” he mocked. “I think these people want to know.”

“Give it back!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes dull with embarassment.

Even if he wasn’t as tall as Seungmin, there was still a decent difference between you and him. And with a sly grin, he raised the paper above your head.

You licked your lips, anger filling your body.

“Give. It. Back.”

But then he started reading.

“I looked at him as if he were the Sun, in that I never looked at him except in frustration.” He read out loud, moving the paper from your reach everytime you tried to reach. “I seeked his warmth, I complained when he was gone, but I never looked, not until I noticed he was leaving, and in the beauty of the sunset, I wondered how I had never seen him before.”

You stared at the floor, a blush spreading through your cheeks, coming from your neck.

“And that’s basically what happened.” You mumbled to Abril and Lucas over at a bench in the school grounds, hours after that whole thing had happened.

“What?!” You flinched at Abril’s loud voice. “I’m going to kill him. I am so going to murder that nasty ass bitch.” She threatened to stand up, but Lucas grabbed her forearm.

“And what about Seungmin?” He questioned softly, a lot more gentle that what you usually would expect.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“I haven’t spoken to him since Friday” You stared at him with a weakness you had never felt before. “It’s like he doesn’t want to talk to me, I…” you sighed. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” You sniffed.

You had to stay in the study room for the afternoon, waiting for Atenea to get out of the club she was in so you could head to the library together like you had promised, but as you studied in silence, someone sat in the chair in front of you, frowning at you.

You took your headphones off and scratched your eyes. “Eh… Hyunjin?”

“Abril told Lara and she told me,” he mentioned in a huff. “And I’ve known Seungmin for many years. He’s not an impulsive guy. He hasn’t treated anyone like how he treats you.”

You blinked, puzzled, but frowned at him. “Are you going to scold me?”

“You better believe I am!” He scoffed. “Would you like me to politely tell you that you’ve behaved like a total idiot around him?”

“What are you—?!”

“You simply never bothered to talk to Seungmin about any of what Lara told me!” He stated with force, and you didn’t think to tell him to shut up, considering that the study room was empty that time.

“Do you really expect me to understand whatever was happening and tell him right away?” You blurted out with anger, a bit shocked at his rough approach. “Had I had the opportunity I would have!

He rolled his eyes, passing a hand over his face in a sign of desperation.

“You had every opportunity! For months!” He left his hand on the table, and started tapping at it with force, trying to make a point. “Admit it. Seungmin has been in your head ever since we both changed from the other class and you two started bickering.” Hyunjin’s eyes stared at you with a fierce glare that almost threatened to pierce holes through your skull.

“That’s bullshit!” You spitted out defensively.

“Oh, spare me!” He brushed it off. “There have been countless clues! Your stupid need to make everything a competition when it comes to him is infuriating. He talks to me about these things, you know?” He swallowed, and you leaned back in surprise, but he kept on going. “How you look at him when you’re angry, or how you mock and tease him back. It’s stupid!” He cursed out loud. “And these last two weeks have only made it so much worse.”

“What do you mean, worse?” You pondered softly, slowly taking in Hyunjin’s dramatic act.

“I mean, you were totally smitten by how he ridiculously kissed you at the back of the bus last week, considering that you kissed him back.” He stated clearly. “And he wouldn’t shut up about it and how you were ignoring him after, which, great fucking work, by the way, the dude wouldn’t shut up about you.” Hyunjin blinked slowly, trying to recall and voice what he was thinking. “And then he lends you his jacket when a mystery debutant shows up.”

“A—a what?”

“Motherfucker, eh, that Henry asshole.” Hyunjin rubbed his eyes. “I had to endure him talking shit about him for an hour because he saw him texting you some weird shit with cringe emojis.” The exasperation on his tone rendered you almost speechless. “And even then he struggled to admit how fucking jealous he was about that guy. He had your attention. He had your smile. You looked at Henry, not at Seungmin, and ah, for fuck’s sake.” Hyunjin covered his face with his hands. “He felt so ridiculously powerless that he talked to me about it. He’s never done that before!”

You were only able to blink, struggling to grasp everything he was saying.

“And then, with no word of warning, you called him, at, what, like, one in the morning?” Hyunjin said in a huff, the thought of that bringing back his anger, making him stare at you with a frown again. “He, jesus, he talked for AGES about how you hugged him, and the fact that you were wearing his jacket, like— like you’re doing now, what the fuck.” He stopped mid-scolding, staring at you with confusion.

“It’s… it’s his?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly as he nodded. “What, you didn’t know? You helped him with tecnical drawing, he gave you his jacket, bla bla bla. That whole thing?”

You blushed, shaking your head sideways. You had done what?

“Nevermind. You can talk to him about that later.”

It was your turn to scoff now. “Judging by the fact that he sent you, I don’t think he would like to see me anytime soon.”

Hyunjin chuckled dryly.

“Don’t you even dare keep ignoring him. This stupid game has lasted for too long. Besides, he doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m in dance practice, but whatever. You needed to know, because he’s a mess.” Hyunjin stated, passing a hand through his hair. “He can’t sleep well, he can’t concentrate, he can’t do anything.”

It looked like the scolding was over, but there was a remaining anger that came back to him as a memory struck.

“And, moreover, you callously ignored the letter Seungmin wrote you, even though he told you he loved you!”

You were looking at your notebook on the table, halfly staring at your nails and fidgeting with them, but your head almost snapped when you stared at him.

“What letter?” You muttered, your eyes locked on his. He frowned, his eyes slightly widening.

Your heart started beating faster, almost so loud you could hear it in your head.

“Hyunjin, what letter?!”

[☆★🌷★☆]

Seungmin felt his lungs on fire.

Run, run, run.

His feet were hurting, because his old ass shoes were busted enough that their insides were almost destroyed from everyday use.

But he needed to find you.

Maybe it was because it was Valentine’s day, despite the obvious influence that a certain friend of yours had done.

“Wait, you— you missed school this morning?” Lucas had muttered with a puzzled look, eyes wide.

“I had to go to the dentist to take my braces off. Yeah.” Seungmin stated again. “So whatever you meant by ‘being an ignoring bitch this morning’, I know nothing about it.”

And then someone next to them had chimed in. “You’re talking about Henry and what happened this morning with—“

“Yeah. Why?” Seungmin had interrupted, frowning slightly.

“There’s a video of it.”

Run, run, run.

The look in your eyes when you spoke with Henry. Your smug smile when you caught him by surprise.

Your poem.

His eyes had widened when Henry started reading it in the video.

Was it…?

Could it…?

Could it really be for him?

He wanted needed to find out.

He needed to find you.

“Watch where you’re going!” A man grunted at him, and Seungmin quickly apologized, running off.

Run, run, run.

He knew where you lived just because of Friday, when you had asked him if he could head towards your house with you, still a bit scared from what had happened. He accepted in a heartbeat, reassuring you that it was fine with a million smiles.

His hand had never left yours. Your touch, colder than his, had something so adicting to it that he didn’t want to let go.

Time seemed to pass slowlier when he recognized your neighbourhood. He was about to ring on your floor, but then, your silhouette got out of the elevators, and you both blinked at each other, staring through the glass door.

You opened it slowly, approaching him.

The look in your eyes was different than what Seungmin was used to.

It wasn’t similar to how you had looked at him ever since the school year started, with a shimmer of anger that turned your cheeks pink. Or how you had looked at him that afternoon in the back of the school bus, pupils dark and lips red and slightly swollen from kissing. Or how your eyes glowed in hope and comfort that Friday night.

It was different. He wanted to savour it. He wanted to see every detail of it.

He walked towards you and cradled your face in his hands.

“Wait.” He muttered in a whisper, taking off his glasses in a movement that to you felt almost enticing.

“What is it?” You whispered back.

He blinked at you as he cleaned his glasses with the hem of his shirt.

“You’re fucking blurry.” He snickered softly, with a sheepish smile that tinted his cheeks pink.

You giggled.

He settled his glasses back in place, and smiled when your image made sense before him.

“Better.” He muttered.

“Seungmin, I—“

But you stopped speaking when his lips crashed against yours.

There it was. He tasted sweet like how hot chocolate tastes in a rainy day. You smiled at your discovery, wanting to taste it for hours.

He wanted to kiss you for days to come, even if there was a million things left for both of you to say.

“I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I wasn’t in school this morning.” Kiss. “But I saw a video of it.” Kiss. “And I needed to—“

You giggled, taking his glasses and settling them on the top of his head.

“We can do the talking later.” You smiled, your cheeks red as your hands grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Are you sure?” He gulped, blushing too as he mumbled.

“Yeah.” You smiled even more. “I’d rather do the kissing now.”

You'd never know what happened with his letter. But considering where that had lead you, maybe it wasn't totally bad that the wind had carried it out the window.

[☆★🌷★☆]

~Kats, who, believe it or not, took the text argument in the beginning from an old school groupchat (yes i was the target akbdksbdks idk why lol, but no, i did not have an enemies2lovers :( lmao)

HAPPY FUCKING VALENTINES DAY!

TAGGING! (oh wow) @that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick @deadcrow-donteat @obyyyy @euphoric-univers @aslou @19marka @daisyjihannie @im-loco66 @coolbabydumplings @amarecerasus @sharonxdevi @han-to-my-minho @abbiespooks @moon0fthenight @koala-wonderland @hecrtful @hheesungsung @vampcharxter @kpopandblunts @daisy-dont-play @skz-lover21 @skyl1nninie @lunathewonyoungstan @5starlee @pchyyhoe @4ln-stay8 @michelle4eve (bolded and/or purple means it won’t let me tag you, pookies! please check your blog’s privacy settings <3)

[notiddygothgf]

4. Taste Like Nicotine

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Go back to Himeno. ❞ ❝ No. That's not what you want. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HELLO AGAIN MY POOKIE DOOKIES!! IM BACK AGAIN. bc i have nothing better to do atm and i wanted to give yall a lil sum sum before i moved away to uni. please excuse the pacing of this chapter -- this fanfic was supposed to be a oneshot and uh... now its 160 pages in google docs LMFAOOA.. things get spicy in this chapterrr! so yeah anyway, you know the drill, keep me entertained -- keep your funny little comments coming, I absolutely love reading them. You guys motivate me to keep going! Love yall

★ w.c.;4.1k

shameless ; chapter index

THE OFFICE WAS QUIET, the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustling of papers the only sounds that broke the silence. You were alone, finishing up some last-minute paperwork after hours. The mission had gone surprisingly well—no casualties, a rare feat in your line of work. The team had even managed to kill a large Devil containing a piece of Gun Devil Flesh, a significant victory. Yet, instead of joining the others to celebrate, you had chosen to stay behind. Partly to avoid any awkward encounters with Himeno, but mostly because you felt restless, unable to shake off the events of the past few days.

As you finished up the last of your reports, you glanced at the new message on your phone.

HIMENO| you didn't come tonight.

Typing...

YOU

| I didn't think you'd wanna see me after the stunt I pulled.

HIMENO| I dont, but I wanted u to know that everyone is talking abt u

YOU

| ??

| wym

HIMENO

| your shadow didn't come tonight, either.

Typing...

YOU| look, himeno, ive actually been wanting to talk to you about that

| would you be able to meet up and talk it out?

HIMENO| id rather not honestly.

| ur a grown woman and i cant stop u from doing what u want

| but just know that people in pb. safety talk

| dont mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for aki

| u should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs

YOU| I understand that I've hurt you, Himeno, and I'm sorry

| I have no intentions of being with Aki.

HIMENO| good

| dont get him mixed up in ur fucked up marriage

|  he doesnt deserve that.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. There were certain battles you simply couldn't win. This would undoubtedly be one of them.

It was late, and you knew you should head home. You gathered your things and made your way down the dimly lit hallways, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

As you passed the breakroom, you heard voices. One familiar voice, more specifically.

You slowed your pace, not wanting to intrude but curious enough to catch a snippet of the conversation. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see two figures inside.

"You look desperate, dude," the unknown person said, barely audible. "It's not attractive."

"I'm becoming ridiculous," Captain Hayakawa said, his voice low and strained. "I'm losing hope."

"Hope of what? Convincing a married woman to break her vows?" the other person retorted, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

Are they talking about me? You asked. You knew the answer. You simply did not want to confront it.

Hayakawa sighed. "I thought she would call me by now," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice making your stomach churn uncomfortably. "I just... there was something there."

There was a pause, then the other person sighed, his voice softening. "God, you are ridiculous." After a moment, he added, almost reluctantly, "Shit, sorry, man. I know you like her."

"No, you're right," He replied, a note of resignation following his words. "She doesn't want to speak to me. I'm driving myself crazy waiting for someone who's never gonna call."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, guilt and confusion swirling together. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn't just walk away without feeling a pang of something—regret, perhaps? The slip of paper with his number, still in your possession, weighed heavily in your mind. You had been avoiding the situation, avoiding him, and now it was clear how much it had affected him.

Aki's words echoed in your ears as you stood frozen in the hallway.

He was right; you hadn't called him. You hadn't even acknowledged the note, too caught up in your own turmoil and guilt to consider his feelings. Now, hearing him speak so openly, you felt a rush of emotions—sympathy, guilt, confusion. There had been a moment between you, an undeniable spark, but you had chosen to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist.

When would it all come crashing down – your efforts? This whole situation?

The conversation in the breakroom continued, but you couldn't listen any longer. You turned away, your heart pounding. As you made your way to the exit, you couldn't help but replay Aki's words in your mind.

He had been waiting for you, hoping you would reach out, and now he was losing hope. Fuck.

He had been waiting for me.

The idea thrilled you, for some strange reason. Maybe because you hadn't felt desired like this in years – it made your head spin. But another part of you was terrified—of what it might mean, of the complications it would bring, of the impact on your marriage.

You couldn't help yourself. You did what you always did. You ran away from him.

You knew you couldn't avoid him forever, but for now, you needed time to think. .

7:45 PM

Typing... 

Hey. |

Typing...

Hello, |

Typing...

How are you? |

Typing...

Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party. I think you should be there.

SENT.

YOU | Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party.

I think you should be there.

| At the Sip-n-savor in downtown Tokyo

Seen 8:00 PM .

The night went on without a flaw. The atmosphere was infectious, and you had been trying to let loose, drink in hand, as you chatted and danced with the others. But as the night wore on, a sense of unease settled in. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the memories of the overheard conversation in the breakroom, or maybe it was the subtle disappointment that someone hadn't shown up.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged makeup. You sighed, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on your face. As you washed your hands, you found yourself thinking about Aki.

Despite everything, a depraved part of you had hoped to see him tonight. You had been both relieved and disappointed when he hadn't shown up—relieved because it meant avoiding an awkward conversation, disappointed because you had been... well, actually looking forward to seeing him.

As you touched up your makeup, you couldn't help but reflect on your own conflicted feelings. You were married, committed, and yet, Aki had stirred something in you that you simply couldn't stand to ignore. It was confusing, disorienting. You weren't sure what you felt more strongly: guilt for being drawn to him or frustration that you couldn't just let it go.

"Ugh," You groaned, pressing your forehead against the sink. "'M g'nna be sick."

Feeling a bit lightheaded from the drinks, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. You left the bathroom and – completely drunk – maneuvered through the crowds to the nearest door.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief against your warm skin, and you leaned against the balcony railing, taking deep breaths. The city lights twinkled below, and you watched them in a daze, trying to steady your thoughts.

That's when you saw him.

Aki was just entering the party, his sharp suit and dark hair making him stand out immediately. You felt your heart skip a beat. Then another. He was killing you.

He came, you thought, a strange mix of emotions flooding you. Relief, excitement, and that persistent undercurrent of guilt all tangled together.

He spotted you almost immediately and made his way over. As he approached, you couldn't help but think how painfully gorgeous he looked, the dim lighting casting a soft glow on his features. In that moment, he seemed almost like a knight in shining armor, a figure out of place in the lively, chaotic setting of the bar.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth and warm, a balm to your nerves.

"Hey," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, a slight concern in his tone. "You're not cold?"

He always seemed to be worried about you and the weather. Still, the chill felt nice against your hot skin, oddly enough.

I missed you, you didn't say. You didn't even think about it. You knew that in a day you would be back on the train and all of this would just be a bad dream, anyway.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, I just needed some air. It's a bit stuffy in there."

Aki didn't respond immediately, and when you turned your head up to look at him, his expression was unreadable. The noise from inside the bar seemed distant, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in that moment. You felt a tug in your chest, a pull towards him that you couldn't explain, couldn't deny.

"Did you pregame the bar, or something?" You laughed quietly. It felt nice, being able to pretend nothing had ever happened between the two of you and just... enjoy each other's company. "You smell like beer."

"I was having a few drinks with my roommate before you texted me," He answered. Then, looking out onto the street, he added, "He told me I shouldn't come tonight. Said you're driving me crazy."

"So, why are you here, then?" You asked.

He looked at you. "I think you know why I'm here."

There was a brief silence, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes lingered on you, soft but searching. It was the same look he had given you in the seminar, the museum, everywhere else, and it stirred something deep inside you.

You hated the way he made you feel.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked you. His voice was as deep and rich as ever, and you had about half a mind to take him up on the offer.

You shivered. You knew it wasn't from the cold air. It was him – the smell of him, his cologne, the distinct scent of nicotine that let you know he had just finished smoking a cigarette. It was an aroma so unique to him that you had grown to like it.

You were looking at his lips before you knew it, giving way to a craving you couldn't explain, "I'll try a cigarette, if you have any."

He smiled softly, reaching into his pocket and flipping open a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. He placed a cancer stick between your lips, and you felt a part of you die a little. He struck the wheel of the lighter, bringing the cigarette to life.

You coughed so hard that you nearly hacked up a lung. It had been years since your last cigarette.

Hayakawa stepped behind you, cupping a hand around your elbow, sliding it up your arm, your wrist, your fingers before he plucked the cigarette from your digits.

"First time?" He asked, warm voice hot against your neck.

"Wanted to give it a try," You shrugged. You didn't know what, exactly, had gotten into you. It seemed that with every sip of liquor you took lately, you crept closer and closer back to your old self. The sort of liquid courage that made people make very bad decisions. "Sorry. I'm a little," You waved your hands around yourself, trying to gesture 'drunk' without actually saying it.

"How brave of you," He murmured, pulling a hit from your cigarette and exhaling. He was the picture of sin – face flushed with alcohol, messy bangs, pink lips wrapped around a cancer stick. He was so pretty it hurt.

"I'll try it again when I'm sober," You offered.

"When?" He asked, breathing smoke out into the air. "Where?"

As persistent as always, you thought. Still, you didn't necessarily mind the attention anymore. You told yourself that it didn't matter – you would be out of here soon anyway, and everything would be far behind you before you knew it.

"Why is it that every time I'm inebriated... God tests me by throwing you in my way?" You laughed, Truly, you wished you had considered the implications of your words a little more before you had said them. "Just as I thought your manners had improved since the party. You behaved badly, then. You know that? Very badly," you hiccuped. "You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing– hic–throwing yourself at a married woman like that."

He didn't acknowledge your drunken ramblings, and he also didn't deny the fact that he had been doing exactly that – throwing himself at a married woman.

"Hardly my fault," He breathed out. "I just can't seem to resist you."

"Don't worry," You replied, eyeing him up dubiously as he pulled another hit from what was left of your cigarette. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Won't have to worry about resisting me after that."

"I know," He answered back. "Selfishly enough, I spent the last few hours wishing your train got delayed one more day, or something like that," He exhaled, then snuffed his cigarette out on the balcony, "Still, I'm glad I could see you before you went home."

"I wish I could say the same about you," You replied before you could stop the words from coming out.

He poked his tongue through the inside of his cheek, retorting, "You're gonna sit here and act like you didn't invite me? Like your eyes didn't light up like a child when you saw me pull up?" He turned around, commanding even more of your attention, standing at least a foot and a half taller than you. "You wanted me to come tonight."

It was true. That's the worst part. Everything he said was the truth.

"So that I could say goodbye," You said with remarkable finality, "I'm leaving after this."

You hadn't originally planned on leaving so soon, of course, but you wanted to get the hell out of here before you made another bad decision.

"Already?" He asked.

"You're the one who ran late," You replied. "This ends tonight. I'm going to say bye to everyone else, then I'll be gone."

With that being said, you made your way back to the door. You would go inside, bid everyone farewell, collect your belongings, and then–

He called your name before you could go back inside. You froze in place.

"Am I misreading the signals?" He asked.

You sighed, turning around one last time to clear the air, "This has to stop, Aki. You make me feel like... like I'm guilty of something."

He implored you, "What do you want me to do?"

"Go back to Himeno," You answered, a biting undertone seeping through your words. You were undeniably bitter about the whole situation, and under any other circumstances, you would have tried to be a good sport, but...

Himeno's words were a heavy weight on your heart.

'Don't mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for Aki.'

'You should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs."

You could never be what Aki wanted. He wanted all of you – not just a week of you, clearly. You were married, and you couldn't let all of that go over a guy you'd been toeing the line with for what seemed like ages.

He was a young man. The fact of the matter was that you were a grown woman. A married one.

"She's a sweet, kind woman," You continued. You felt like you were going to be sick just being near him. Unknowingly, tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes. "Go back and beg her to forgive you. Go be with someone who wants to be with you. Who can be with you."

"No," He answered simply. There was an intensity in his eyes that frightened you, like he would die without you, as he continued, "That's not what you want. I think we both know that. I refused a mission in Hiroshima to stay here with you. I planned to let go of another one in Beijing," He swallowed, "I can change my mind, and you'll never see me again."

"If you have any consideration for me," Your voice was a shuddering whisper, like someone could walk out any minute and hear the two of you going back and forth. "Any semblance– a shrivel of compassion, you'll give me back my peace."

He shook his head, "I can't. You know I can't. You've consumed every inch of my peace, every inch of my mind. How can I give you your peace?"

Fair point.

You had nothing to say to him. So, silently, your vision blurred with tears, you glared at him. Glared and frowned like that would make you believe he was the sole contributor to this issue. Then, again, you turned on your heel and went for the door. You entered the bar quickly.

He followed not too long after you, "I'll go to Beijing, then."

"No." You said. Your teary-eyed fury caught the eyes of more than a few confused bar patrons. "I don't want you to go."

Everyone was looking at you. Seriously, everyone. Your old coworkers, the bartenders, everybody.

You swallowed down your pride, bowing down before them all. "Good night, everyone," You said. You plucked your purse and your jacket off of the barstool. "Thank you for everything. I'm leaving."

Ignoring the confused looks and hushed whispers from the patrons, you exited the bar, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The rain had started to fall, a soft drizzle quickly turning into a steady downpour. You barely noticed, too wrapped up in the turmoil inside your head. The cold, wet sensation of the rain soaked through your clothes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind.

But of course, Aki followed after you. You could hear him calling your name, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. You quickened your pace, almost running, your heels splashing through puddles as you made your way down the block. His footsteps pounded behind you, matching your speed. You couldn't escape him, couldn't outrun him.

Finally, he caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you. "Wait, can we please talk?" he pleaded, his voice breathless and desperate.

You turned to face him, rain pouring down around you both. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his suit jacket soaked through. The intensity in his eyes matched the storm, a fierce determination that made your heart ache. You met his gaze begrudgingly, not wanting to deal with this, not wanting to deal with him.

"Have I really been imagining all of this?" He asked. He sounded broken. "Is it really all in my head? Tell me if it's a lie. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you mean it—all of it," he paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Or tell me the truth."

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. "I don't know how to feel, Aki," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm trying to be good, but you just keep fucking—popping up everywhere. And you say these pretty things to me, and," You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. "I can't help myself around you."

"Running from your problems won't make me go away," he said, stepping forward to put his hands gently on your waist.

There was a long pause as you stood there in the rain, staring at each other. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you. The storm, the bar, everything else was just a blur. You were tired—tired of running, tired of the confusion, tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

He added, "You can't run from your feelings."

This time, it was his eyes that dropped to your lips. His tongue darted out to dampen his own, and then his eyes flicked up to your face. When he spoke, his voice was huskier than before, as if it had been tainted by an emotion that hadn't been there before. Was it lust? Passion? Whatever it was, you wanted more of it.

Your eyes widened. Your mouth had run dry. You didn't know what to say. Even being like this right now -- as close as you were, -- was against your wedding vows. This was wrong, and you couldn't do that to your own husband.

Your own husband who loved you so dearly.

Your own husband who left you hanging so many nights on end.

Your own husband, who acted as if he couldn't care if you lived or died.

As if he had sensed your train of thought wandering, Aki placed two fingers beneath your chin, lifting your face up until he was the captor of all of your attention. Him and him alone. Not your husband, but him.

"I could treat you like a princess," His eyes wandered down to your lips again, but this time there was an unspoken hunger within them. "All you have to do is ask, and I'm yours. I already am."

And, God, what a fool you had been in uttering the words, "Don't toy with my emotions. You don't want me."

He paused, awaiting something, anything. His eyes pleaded with your own, luring you in with promises of pleasure and happiness. Gently, he grabbed your hand, placing it over his breast, right above his heart.

"I want you so badly it hurts," He breathed, "For a night, for a day, for a week..." Aki closed the gap between the two of you – brought your faces closer together. Closer, until you could feel the warmth of his calm breath fanning out against your cheek. Closer, until he uttered, "As long as you'll let me have you."

"Aki, I can't-...." You paused. Yet, still, you never moved. Your body betrayed your words, dilated pupils and trembling hands giving way to your internal dilemma. "This is wrong. You know I can't do this."

You were being a hypocrite. You knew you were. One spare glance down at the placement of your hands on his chest -- one over his breast and one looped around his tie -- and you knew he could tell you were only putting up a front.

"I know," he murmured softly, words practically dying beneath the volume of the rain, "But I can't stop thinking about you."

You folded. Your eyes dropped down to his lips one last time, and that's when you knew he had already won.

Fuck it.

"Fuck you," you muttered, feeling a surge of reckless abandon.

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his in a desperate, frenzied kiss. It was messy and wet, your tears mixing with the rain, your hands tangling in his hair as his arms finally wrapped around you.

The kiss was filled with all the pent-up emotions, the longing, the frustration, the desire. It was passion, it was anger – it was tongue and teeth and lips smearing your lipstick over the lower half of your face. It was two black holes finally colliding after circling around each other far too long.

"I can't make sense of it. I want... you," you sighed, pulling away, voice trembling, "I don't know what any of this means anymore. I don't know what to think."

"Then don't," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. He tasted like cigarette smoke, beer and mint gum – a flavor so utterly addicting that you couldn't seem to get enough of it. "Don't think. Let me take you back to your room."

You hesitated, the reality of the situation hitting you. This was crossing a line, a line you couldn't uncross. But as you looked into his eyes, saw the same turmoil reflected back at you, you felt your resolve crumble.

You were tired of pretending.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. It was a final, resigned acceptance, the last nail in the coffin of your restraint.

You were tired of running from the inevitable.

a/n: dont hate me. LMFAOAOAOOAOA. i had to! i absolutely loved writing this chapter and i loved writing tipsy obsessed aki. i headcannon that he's a touchy needy bf and no one can tell me otherwise. i think you all know what happens next. im not sayin nothin tho. hehe. ANYWAYYYYY LMK WHAT YALL THOUGHTTTTT i look forward to hearing it!!! lmk what yall wanna see in the next few chapters/over the course of the story. and if youve already watched anna karenina (or read, in which case... how...) shhhhhh youve seen nothing. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[huhyuhbah]

just finished watching peaceful property ep 7 (forcebook ep)

amazing acting from fb. every single scene was able to hurt me in each and every way.

i've written a lil bout most of the phoomvicha scenes cause i just need to word vomit before i start crying again.

when peach was offering the food to vicha and peach had told older phoom that vicha was there causing phoom to say "I miss you" was the first heartbreak of the ep for me. the desperation in his voice.

when i watched the kiss, it definitely felt like it was meant to be a happy scene but knowing vicha dies, the moment was just bittersweet and i ended up crying more.

"I won't just disappear. I swear on my life." why do the writers want to hurt me so much. and book's acting of carving the tally into the tree was painful. so much conveyed through just his facial expression.

the following scene hurt me the most for sure. phoom having to push vicha away then being unable to perform the gesture for "happy". everytime he did the "sadness" gesture, he couldn't stop looking at vicha hoping he would look back and see him. since vicha never saw phoom, vicha was left heartbroken.

seeing vicha hurt himself at the tree really just nailed it home and i ended up crying even more. from this point i couldn't breathe properly because of how much i had been crying up until then.

the cut to phoom lying on the floor next to vicha and them having one last dance together was tough to watch. dancing together and vicha saying "You're back" was too much. also finding out that fb actually improvised the final two lines is making me crazy. if the scene had just ended after they danced, something would've felt like it was missing. "You're back" and "Sorry to keep you waiting" were just perfect to end their story. especially since phoom decided to buy the house while vicha's ghost continued to stay.

overall amazing ep. i would love to see fb act in another role that is more intense emotionally bc they were incredible as phoomvicha. i also understand why people were crying just from reading the script.

while phoom came back for vicha, they will never get to grow old together as vicha's life ended too soon, just like the vegetable hummingbirds phoom had plucked too early.

[lelengerine]

the sun in your system

pairing | bff!haechan x reader

synopsis | the one where haechan is hopelessly in love with you, it's sick.

genre | one-sided pining au, college setting, a mix of fluff and angst

wc | 0.7k

notes | i apologize for any errors in this bc i got the biggest brainrot for softie!hyuck and this was created from that spur... this isn't proofread or anything but i hope u like it :> likes and rbs are highly appreciated!

m.list

it’s a sunny saturday afternoon and haechan’s accompanying you to the school’s treasured library to study for an upcoming exam. it was an odd occurrence to even spot him near the premises of this god-forsaken building (as he likes to call it), yet the two of you have been here for a total of five hours and he hasn’t complained about going back to the dorms once.

you did tell him you were going to do some additional research for a class you were taking, but that no longer seems to be the case when you’ve dozed off an hour ago, and your best friend doesn’t seem to have any plans of waking you up.

the faint glow of sunlight peeks through the library’s windows, grazing your features with a soft touch. it doesn’t seem to disturb you, yet haechan takes it upon himself to grab a book and hold it over your eyes, silently shielding them from the warm rays. your nose scrunches a little from the change despite being asleep, falling back to slumber just as quickly.

why would the poor boy ever ever want to leave when he could see you like this?

he may look like a sick fool—and perhaps he is one for following you around like a golden retriever pup who’s lost his owner—but he’ll gladly let others think so if it meant he’d be able to spend his days with you.

it hadn’t been long since he’s fully realized how he felt about you all this time. no, it took a lot of nightly conversations with his dorm mates who were probably tired of the hearts in haechan’s eyes every time you randomly pop in their conversations. at this point, they’d prefer the boy to grow the balls to confess his heart out to you. it’s not like he doesn't profess his love for you in a different way at least once each day in the middle of their dorm anyways.

there were many people who called haechan the sun (hell, even he agrees with it), yet he believes he’d only be a small, burning star when compared to you, his entire solar system. the one that keeps him afloat, the one who makes him feel like he’s destined for greater things ahead of his life, the one who grounds him when he needs it the most so he wouldn’t be floating in a pit of dark space without meaning.

“you’ll never know just how much i love you, y/n.” he breathes without much thinking, each syllable falling from his lips with utmost care, afraid that if he spoke any louder, they’d only get caught up in the depths of his throat.

you stir in your sleep, or at least that’s what he still thinks you're under until you rise up groggily, rubbing your eye. “you love me?”

“it was a joke!” he brushes the topic off, words leaving him through an awkward laugh.

“uhuh, as if i believe that!” you exclaim before covering your mouth in haste, forgetting you were still residing in the library. 

haechan chuckles at you, absolutely adoring the way your eyes widened in sheer shock, cheeks flushing from the sudden rush. “hey, don’t laugh!” you whisper-shout this time, a small pout on your rosy lips.

“sorry! i can’t help it- you just look like a dork.” his statements clearly refuse to align with how he feels about you, a pang of frustration bubbling up within him for being unable to speak his mind freely—the constant fear you might turn your back on him if he did staying hidden in the furthest depths of his mind.

he was okay with this—admiring your presence, as a friend—or rather, he was okay as long as you were.

“was that really a joke though?” you question properly, and haechan can already sense the hesitation behind your voice. 

“mhm, don’t worry about it. i really was just kidding.” he tries reassuring you, another small pang hitting his heart right where it hurt. 

“if you say so… but that joke wasn’t funny at all!” you point out with a huff, returning back to studying as you open the forgotten notebook laying in front of you. “you need to get better at making them, hyuckie.” you tease, dangling your feet happily.

“yeah… maybe i should.” his reply is muffled, but you pay not much heed to it, now immersing yourself in your studies once more. perhaps that’s exactly why you don’t notice the gloom washing over him, your sun glowing a little less brightly in its solar system.

[padfootswhiskers]

With all respect, I think u guys give jkr's writing skill too much credit . Ik she said she planned everything abt hp books from the beginning( I don't believeit tbh), but she wrote some of the weirdest dumb stuff ever for the sake of the plot that don't make any sense ... Remus's life and even his name, for example.The fact that Remus hasn't visited Harry for almost 12yrs is ridiculous . "He thought Harry was safe - he felt worthless. He was a coward. " wtf?! No he didn't do it bc Harry shouldn't know abt his parents and wizarding world the End. srslyWheree were lily's friends? Oh they all passed away...Harry's grandparents THEY ALL PASSED AWAY ...problem solved (jkr is so good at this) and plus imo that also happened simply bc if Remus checked on Harry, he would be a father figure to him 100% (the role given to Sirius), and jkr didn't want Harry to have the same close connection with Remus as he did with Sirius. It would make harry -Sirius's relationship unimportant... Take Sirius's other relationships, for example. When he escaped Azkaban, he had no family, no lover, no one. Initially, I was like, "Yeah, okay," and that seemed fine. But later, it occurred to me that maybe he was written that way because he had to be solely for Harry. Like, he shouldn't care about anyone but Harry. Sirius isn't allowed to prioritize anyone over his godson.

to be fair, anon, i think two things can be true at the same time. a lot of stuff does happen in the hp universe for plot reasons---this doesn't necessarily mean it's always bad writing.

the plot required harry to be unaware of the wizarding world, alright. i don't see how this means remus would've taken, like, custody of harry or something if it hadn't! remus IS a coward. he IS extremely self flagellating. it IS completely plausible that he knew petunia wasn't a great person and left harry there anyway!

(take DH for example. he says tonks will be safe with her parents right after he tells them that her parents have been tortured for information. he isn't a stupid man, he's being deliberately cowardly.)

i understand that you probably really like remus, or at least the good bits of him, but character traits you dislike do not equal bad writing. remus consistently shows himself to be extremely passive-aggressive, conflict avoidant and unable to actually follow through on his conscience. i don't know about you, anon, but i can definitely see a man who convinced himself that withholding information about a wanted murderer was OK, convincing himself that harry is safe and better off without him.

jkr didn't have to use plot reasons to thwart remus and harry's budding relationship so that sirius could step in because...there isn't a scenario that exists wherein canon remus would step in to be an orphaned harry's father figure. i'm genuinely curious as to why you think he might. THAT, if anything, is what seems ooc to me.

as for lily, that seems to be pattern with jkr's 'popular girls'. i can't name five of ginny's friends if my life depended on it. it was also obviously done so that the snape reveal would have a greater effect. but lily isn't an established character the same way remus is.

as for sirius? i don't think it's unrealistic that he didn't have a lover/anyone waiting for him. i think people tend to forget he was only barely 22 when he got locked up; plenty of people haven't begun sorting out their lives at that age. lest we forget, he was also fighting a war pretty much the second he left hogwarts. not great for the dating scene, that. i don't think it's unrealistic at all that he hadn't thought about girls (or boys) or settling down at that time in his life.

but even if he had, i can't fathom a world in which he wouldn't transfer the love and devotion he had for james to james' son.

[ladymarycrawley]

Love has no boundaries - Mason Mount

Request: you are not english and you always felt like one of masons friends don’t quite like you and you don’t even know why bc you have always been respectful and nice. He always mocks the way you talk and is rude to you and puts you down every time you meet. You always have been insecure and shy and it really affects you. During a night out, he always interrupts you and then started to insult you. Mason gets so angry like you have never seen him before and argues with him bc nobody disrespects or shits on you. You are it for him and he knows that you are not like the other girls and he would do everything in his power to protect you and your relationship.

Warning: some foul words but not much, hints of racism

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @johnstonesfc @prideofpd @masterclassbaby​

Living in a foreign country isn’t always something easy: moving in a new house, starting a new job, meeting new people, dealing with different customs and traditions from the ones you had been following your whole life were some of the most challenging things you had to deal with once you decided London would have become your new home.

The enthusiasm new experiences usually bring along soon turned into peer pressure, something so unbearable it was slowly tearing you apart. As a gift sent straight from heaven to help you, Mason came into your life, soon becoming a blessing to you. He proved himself to be a loving and kind guy, always ready to support you even through your darkest moments and you couldn’t be thankful enough for that.

Given his excitement for your relationship he introduced you to his friends and family rather soon and everyone appeared to be so loving and welcoming towards you. Except for one of his friends: there was this ash blonde haired lad, his name was Ryan, who wasn’t exactly happy with you being in Mason’s life and he didn’t have the slightest intention to hide his feelings or to fake it just to please you.

Ryan was there sneering every time you would open your mouth to say something, not in an amused way though, it was more like he was mocking you. For what? Not for something you said but for how you said it. The truth was that he couldn't stand your accent and apparently anything you would say or do.

The first times you would hang out with him and Mason's other friends you tried to convince yourself it was something your tricky mind was pushing you to dwell on but then you realised it wasn’t your fault at all. 

Most nights would end up with you crying yourself to sleep, thinking about that evil look in his eyes and how his glance would square you up and down as if to judge you and state his superiority over you.

Mason didn't have to know anything about it, they were his friends after all and you didn't want him to "break up" with them only because of you. You weren’t the kind of girl who wanted her boyfriend all to herself, alienating him from the rest of the world.

Every time he would notice your eyes glistening with tears, therefore asking you what was wrong, you would always answer, "nothing, I'm just tired" and tried to kiss his worry away.

One night though, when you had just gotten back home from a night out where he found you particularly sexy in your little black dress and wanted nothing but to make you his, you ended up spitting the truth out, unable to keep your pain secret anymore. 

The way he couldn't keep his hand away from your thighs added to his sexy, raspy voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear as well as what his dirty mind was thinking about doing to you, helped to keep your worries at bay for a while.

The moment he would sit you on the bed as his lips would kiss his way down your body, starting from your already swollen lips due to all the kisses you shared on your way home, to your exposed neck, his favourite spot to kiss and nip at, you freezed in your place as the images of Ryan laughing at you and imitating your accent popped up in your mind.

You soon turned into some frozen creature that couldn't be woken up not even by her lover's touch.

Mason kneeled down before you to slip your black tights off you, his lips kissing your skin relentlessly. His kisses would have the same effect on your skin as a burning flame would against some ice cubes, his passion and love would always make you melt.

The images playing on your mind of that dick of his friend mocking you pushed bitter but silent tears out of your eyes. Sleeping with your boyfriend was the last thing you had on your mind that night but at the same time you seemed unable to stop him. Your fingers were still tangled in his short hair as your blank stare was focused on the dark wall in front of you, precisely on the shadow your sitting figure was casting on it.

Your mind was so focused on that guy causing you so much pain that you didn’t even notice Mason stopped what he was doing. When you somehow got out of your trance and your eyes met Mason's, you shook your head with a puzzled expression, as if that unexpected gesture just brought you back to reality.

"Why did you stop?"

"Cause you clearly aren't in the right mindset" The slight tone of annoyance you perceived in his voice made your nervousness grow even higher, the loud sigh leaving your lips a clear signal of it.

The young man you were so fond of stood there, kneeled behind you, his arms crossed over your thighs upholding his chin as his glance was set on your worried features trying to guess the reason behind it.

"What's wrong?"

Another sigh echoed in the room making him look even more confused.

“Am I an embarrassing person? Like are you ashamed of me when we go out?”

To Mason the question you just asked made no sense at all, it was so out of the blue to him he didn’t know what answer.

“What? No…where did you get that from?” The puzzled look on his face was so endearing you wanted to kiss him in order to erase it and get that wonderful smile of his back but that would've been inappropriate. 

The secret was becoming so heavy in your chest you just needed to let it out.

You lowered your gaze on your naked thighs and started fiddling with your fingers nervously.

“There’s…I know there are people that find me embarrassing, that laugh at me for my accent, because my english isn’t perfect and love making me feel so bad about myself”

“Who are you talking about?”

Finally you raised your look to meet Mason’s breathless chocolate brown eyes and found the strength to say that name out loud.

“Ryan”

“Ryan makes fun of you?” The Chelsea midfielder’s tone was rather surprised as he never took notice of the way his friend was disrespecting you.

“Yeah…I didn’t wanna tell you at first cause I don't want you to stop seeing your friends because of me or something like that…” You got up as you needed to stretch your legs, taking a walk around the room. Mason’s eyes never stopped following your body moving back and forth, taking a seat on the bed as his mind was busy processing all the information you were providing him with, information he’d have preferred ignoring.

“...I also thought it was my fault at first but I didn't nothing wrong other than being nice to him”

“Well, if someone’s a dick is not your fault” He muttered tapping his forefinger against his chin.

“I’ve been feeling so wrong, Mase. I feel so wrong”

“You shouldn’t be. You aren’t wrong at all” After a brief, meaningful pause, Mason opened his arms for you “Come here” 

You smiled and threw yourself in his arms as it was literally impossible resisting him. He loved cuddling you and feeling you close, especially at times when he saw you were struggling.

As soon as your body met his, your tensed muscles relaxed and your back started shaking with sobs.

“Shh, that’s okay, babe. I’m here. No one can make you feel like that, no one” He stressed the last two words before pressing a long, lingering kiss against your scalp. “You could never be embarrassing, I’m the only one who can make fun of your accent, okay??” He tried to diffuse the tension with that final joke and succeeded in it, as you let out a soft giggle.

“But you never asked for my permission either”

“I’m your boyfriend, I don’t have to ask for your permission” He playfully rolled your eyes at your witty remark, pushing you down on the bed.

“Well this makes you lose points as the perfect boyfriend. You should always ask for consent”

The English footballer laid his body down on this mattress beside yours, pinning his upper body on his elbows so he could look right into your eyes that, as they always say are the mirror of a human’s soul and in your case it was rightfully so.

He hated being one of those basic people complimenting conventional features as his lover’s eyes but those were really the first thing he fell in love with the moment he saw you.

A lopsided smile appeared on his face as he drew his fingertips closer to your face, to graze his thumb on the spot between your eyebrows. He did it in a way so soft it felt as if he was giving you a facial massage.

“I’d never do something that could hurt you physically or mentally. You should feel free to stop whenever I’m doing something you don’t feel comfortable doing”

Mason sounded genuinely worried, as someone who really wanted what was best for you. You smiled really grateful for the marvelous man he was, he was perfect.

“I will, I trust you with my life so I know you’ll never harm me on purpose”

His thumb moved downwards to caress the side of your eyes before he leaned forward to let the tip of his nose touch your own, therefore giving you the possibility to cancel the short distance between you two and kiss him sweetly on the lips.

His reassuring words and gestures soon changed your mood and you made no opposition to his wandering hands down your body. After all, you didn’t need anything more than to be loved by one of the few people on Earth that wanted nothing but the best for you…

The next day Mason set a night out with the lads purposefully to check on Ryan’s behaviour towards you, even though you wanted to avoid it at first to keep you away from that toxic guy as long as possible.

“You have nothing to worry about, I won’t leave your side tonight, I just want to see how far he goes”

“You’re lucky I love you” You huffed as you applied the finishing make-up touches before the full-length mirror in Mason’s bedroom.

“I know, I’m the luckiest” He pressed his hand against your belly, in a hug from behind, and kissed your cheek before taking his car keys.

That night, apart from his best friend Woody there were also Ben and Reece who were clearly there to give you and him their support since they loved him not only as a teammate but as a friend too and loved you too, as someone who had been beneficial for his life.

It started off quietly with Mason chatting quietly with you and his pals, always making sure you were at ease.

The moment he was waiting for happened all of a sudden, when Ryan started mocking you for some slang words you didn’t grab the full meaning of yet.

“After all these months here you haven’t learnt proper London slang yet? Oh man, she’s a lost cause” He chuckled, holding his hand in his hands in a gesture that conveyed desperation, as if you weren’t smart enough to learn those things in his opinion.

“Well I know more words then when I did when I arrived here so that’s a good start”

Ryan shook his head and emitted some high pitched noises that should have reminded the presents of your voice.

“Hey Ryan, why don't you talk a bit in her language? You always say you’re good with your tongue” Ben remarked, sipping on his drink.

“Hahah well yeah but not in that sense, if you know what I mean” He wiggled his eyes and then looked at you once again “Well Mase, I hope Y/N’s tongue is better than mine so you don’t have to listen to her talking as much in bed”

That was the last straw: you blurted your eyes out in shock and feared Mason could lose his control and do something he would have regretted so you instinctively gripped his arm to block him but he wouldn’t have backed down.

“Why do you hate her so much? Did she do something wrong? Because you have been treating her poorly since the moment I introduced her and she doesn’t deserve that, so stop being a prick”

"What the fuck man? I'm just having fun, she's so funny to me"

"Do you even hear yourself? She's funny to you? She's a real person with real feelings and she deserves respect"

"Yeah only because she's with you now otherwise you'd have found it funny too…chill out bro"

“Oh man you’re so dumb”

“Why do you only care about how I’m treating her now? Did she come crying to you?”

“Because I’ve had enough of your lack of respect, she makes me happy and she’s always nice with anyone so she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment...you should leave if you don’t think about changing your behaviour”

“You can’t decide if I have to leave or not”

"Leave now and stip shitting on her, did you hear me?!" Mason was getting really angry, like you never saw him and it was getting a bit scaring, to be honest.

“I can leave if -”

“No, Y/N, you stay here. He’s the one who has to leave since he’s too childish to understand he’s not welcomed here”

After having seen everyone in the group was against him, Ryan huffed, still convinced he didn’t do anything, did nothing wrong, and finally left. Needless to stay what happened shocked you a bit, as you didn’t want to be the reason behind any drama but Mason had enough, nobody should have disrespected you like that and he wasn’t there to take anyone’s shit. You were too important for him to see you cry over some stupid guy’s not-so-funny jokes.

"You still have to teach me something in your language"

"What do you wanna know?"

"How do you say I love you?"

"[insert how you say it in your mothertongue]"

 Mason smiles and tries to repeat the sentence after you, in the attempt to sound as close to the right pronunciation as possible. 

"How was it?"

"Good! You'll speak better than me soon" You giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. You were nothing but grateful for that man who never failed to make you feel perfect.

He gently raised his fingers closer to your face to brush the corner of your eyes and tuck your hair behind your hair.

"I love you so much" He breathed out against your forehead, pressing a kiss right where his hot breath just touched you.

You closed your eyes pretty satisfied with the life you were living, how could you not be with a man like that by your side?

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

(18+) SOME LIN KUEI ORAL FIXATION HCS ❄️🔥💨

twt thread link | smut comms open | all links

full text ver & notes below cut

NOTES:

variation in style due to writing chunks on different days/not following the same abbreviations or rules depending on when they were written

so bi-han's was not intended to be longer but is bc it's more fic style than the quick notes i was going for when i wrote smoke's and kuai liang's sections

TEXT

💨starting w smoke as he's the only one i don't hc with an oral fixation himself BUT seeing as, in my hcs for him, his favorite thing is receiving oral, he very much appreciates the trait

💨has a fixation of sorts then with it in other people, always wanting to ease his fingers in their mouth, shuddering at the digits being sucked as if as potent to him as their mouth on his actual cock

💨enjoys seeing ppl with their mouths full, playing with this interest by feeding others--as gently or firmly as he's allowed 💨tests limits by always adding more--more fingers to the ones already inside, fingers alongside his cock, his cock & the dildo strapped above his own

💨evidenced by his fatality where he shoves a grenade in his enemy's mouth, keeping it open wide, pushing forcefully, aggressively, more than once or what's necessary with his whole palm, leaving their lips pursed, unable to close properly over what's forced inside their mouth

💨is not opposed to filling someone's mouth slowly, not pushing limits, just enjoying the slide of anything past another's lips, encouraged by his own hand--

💨but does enjoy seeing how far he can push it, starting off with small ball gags and going until the size is impossible to properly take, watching them struggle and strain their jaw, watching the constant flow of saliva strung down their chin, down the rest of their frame

💨cock aching at how obvious a motion swallowing has to be when struggling around something that won't let your mouth close, aching at those frustrated sounds, encouraging them to repeat themselves as he couldn't get it the first time :)

💨if he's allowed, he wants to grip someone by the hair/head/jaw and facefuck them until they can't take his cock slamming into their throat anymore, until they pull away, cum dribbling down their face and chest, coughing and gagging and drooling all over themselves

💨what he wants most afterwards--before cuddling and aftercare and a hell of a lot of kind, hushed words--is to get himself just as soaked and sticky with cum and saliva, to make an absolute mess of himself, to press his tongue to everything

💨promising to make it up to them amongst the unceasing praise and pecks to the cheeks and forehead, alongside the warm, gentle touch of his hand on the sides of their sore jaw and throat

🔥kuai liang just wants his holes filled and that includes--even prioritizes--something to fill his mouth 🔥loves it socially and despite the undercurrent of arousal to it regardless of setting, it's a calm kind of arousal if he's just doing it to relax

🔥if he's tense or feels out-of-body or vaguely notices, as if outside himself, that he's not fully in it, he knows something in his mouth will ground him 🔥is at first unaware of this (things feel blurry and he just tries his best to sleep it off) and then is ashamed of it--

🔥perceiving it as a crutch, as immaturity, but realizing it's something more frightening to him--feeling his cock leak merely at the thought of something filling his mouth so comfortably, at how overwhelmingly good it would feel--something he can't just will away

🔥still assuming he can stave it off, he'll keep the tip of his thumb between his teeth, almost absentmindedly, when stressed--akin to clicking a pen--feeling it calms him some, makes things more manageable than tackling issues with no ways to calm down afterwards

🔥or when masturbating, he'll bite the side of his hand, already apprehensive about and dismissive of his own desires to commonly stifle himself like this 🔥and these are nice and needed and fine but there's still something not being properly addressed or attended to--

🔥becoming a constant anxiety until he's anxious over any sexual activity, unable to vocalize his desire but similarly unable to ignore it 🔥mentions it out of exhaustion, too tired to fight it anymore, and is not met with derision or mockery, as he assumed he would be

🔥easily met with fingers on his tongue, as soon as he wants it, met with a cock or a strap filling his mouth whether he wants to have to swallow hard or just kneel there comfortably, mouth full

🔥when he's comfortable enough with it, he has a few masks outfitted with pecker gags inside--not long or girthy enough to choke on or struggle swallowing around, just enough to fit in his mouth comfortably or to give him something small to suck on

🔥his eyelids flutter shut, eyes rolling back a bit, and it's immediately noticeable that he's calmed down, to the point of feeling sleepy 🔥when he actually seems like he's going to doze off he'll take it out, spit strung from his lips to the gag, and curl up somewhere to nap--

🔥but while still somewhat awake, he likes to rest his head on someone's shoulder or in the crook of their neck when like this, feeling comfortable and warm and safe, the little suckling sounds only noticeable having him so close

🔥his cock will warm up beneath his clothes, enough to notice he's turned on, for there to be a slight bulge, but unless someone else touches him, he too submissive and spacey to do it himself, as if not knowing how to if he tried, or if he has a wet dream, he'll sleep it off

🔥when needy for it in a sexually charged setting, his favorite thing is getting gagged with a used buttplug. it could be anyone's/he's needy for it from everyone lol/he's a good boy and always says "please" and "thank you" but he whimpers so much for it when it's his own--

🔥easily slid out from his stretched hole and slid right back inside, just this time past his lips and onto his tongue 🔥he's not too loud the majority of the time but however quiet, the little moans and whines are consistent, especially with the taste of himself on his tongue

❄️bi-han's fixation is similar in a submissive sense, in that he does get hard but that arousal isn't always something he'll pursue when he wants to engage with it, in that it calms him when he's feeling high strung, when he's getting the hand tremors that precede a breakdown

❄the submissiveness within the scene is more in how defines his own headspace, going about the engagement silently, dialogue lending itself more naturally to kuai liang's experiences, given how his fantasies play out, but when there is talk--

❄️when he allows himself to hear it (not even being the one speaking) & not freeze up with self-hatred or nerves, the headspace bleeds out into the scene around it, any partner now equally as aware of just how small & fragile he's feeling, it no longer self-contained

❄️so there's difficulty in him speaking up about his own pleasure in the first place, only seeming outwardly confident about it if he can be more aggressive & take it--& still finding any expression of his own pleasure, & thus vulnerability, to be frightening--

❄️so when he's confronted by desire that makes him the solely vulnerable party (or so he assumes), a deep & persistent desire he desperately tried to tamp down once he realized what it was & just how raw it made him feel, he just gets more frantic trying to make it stop

❄️whereas kuai liang assumed this meant he wasn't as strong or self-sufficient as should be, & felt humiliated & ashamed when outwardly recognizing it for the first time, bi-han lashes out when he thinks there's any indication of this "weakness" showing

❄️if he's fighting with the onset of this headspace & feels he's losing, if he thinks the need setting in is perceptible to others, when he's beaten back this desire--for a safe space to be vulnerable & for the specific act itself--for so long with no luck, he bares his teeth

❄️but this cycle only makes the need more immediate, creeping down his spine until it's settled solidly at his back, pushing for proper recognition at all hours of the day

❄️he's desperate for a particular act of vulnerability but also for permission to not feel guilty about wanting what feels good, regardless if he's dominant or submissive or if there are no roles to it at all

❄️he wants to be given the go-ahead, to be allowed self-pleasure & partnership sexually, romantically, platonically, socially--any way he's been denied it thus far, first through the demanding expectations of others & now through those same expectations he's yoking himself with

❄️any previous forays into pleasure or intimacy have been abrupt & inconsistent so while seeming to start with the thing that's most difficult to admit sounds like a horrible idea, it's because it's come to a point where he has no choice but to recognize this one--

❄️& is honestly so worn out from fending it off & failing that he's not even angry or upset when he finally requests it, he's simply exhausted & it's obvious down to the bones

❄️it's at the end of a long day, long merely from having this same thought process banging around inside his head once again, to the point where it was the first thing he'd thought of upon waking & it never left his mind since

❄️he'd been unable to make himself coffee, unable to put on his usual clothes--opting for mostly the same things he went to bed in--unable to type out a single legible thing on his phone, & spent the day resigned to bringing it up, knowing things couldn't continue like this

❄️but in finally giving up on fending it off, he gets some relief in just melting into that headspace, feeling awfully needy as he spends the day in bed, sleepily pressing a forearm between his legs, humping the blankets ever so slightly, almost as if not noticing he's doing it

❄️whenever there's finally someone to admit it to--whomever that is depending on your preferences--it does take some prodding but just in the initial question of "what's wrong" & it not taking any time to be asked, something obviously off the moment they see him

❄️there's something said about feeling off, feeling more stressed than usual--both surprisingly honest admissions on their own--but then he mutters something about wanting something in particular, eyes ticked to their peripherals, staring blankly into the distance

❄️"could i just..." something about sucking on their chest, putting his mouth on them for a while--& while it's met with immediate, enthusiastic acceptance, however quiet, while he feels on the verge of hysterics having made himself sick over something so easily allowed--

❄️now he doesn't know how to get himself in position without having to admit what it looks like & why ❄️but this time he just goes for it, shakily but with some of his usual confidence, at least in moving with the cadence of someone who always intends to take as they please

❄️they settle in comfortably & he feels allowed to do so as well, following their lead in this going however he needs it to, in action & duration & pace ❄️he initially settles in the crook of their arm, pulse & breathing noticeably quicker as he watches them pull their shirt off,

❄️lips parted, dazed but oddly patient about the opportunity, gaze flickering upward & an unsure placement of the hand, waiting for permission an additional time

❄️he's oddly not forceful about it either, physically desperate only in the shaky exhale he lets out when he realizes he's not being lead on or dreaming or that the permission's not being revoked

❄️they mention he must be uncomfortable in that position though with his neck a bit crooked, the rest of him folded up neatly so as to not take up too much space, still unable to comfortably immerse himself in it, to do everything he really wants,

❄️but eventually the arm that's pinned starts going numb & even if it weren't, he'd still need to switch sides to avoid making his partner sore, having been suckling so steadily even at at such a relaxed pace

❄️when he switches sides, this time he lets himself lay his legs over their lap, lets them place their arm behind his head, allows himself to settle in more comfortably--more permanently than before, having assumed he'd rush through it or back out or they'd tire of it

❄️it's comfortable. relaxed. domestic even--even if that's particularly new & scary to admit. but there's no fear or worry to it now, only a steady warmth & perhaps a small moment of humor for them both, him hoping he's not crushing their thighs with his

❄️they pull his head in closer to their chest so he can rest more of his weight on them, so they have a free hand to smooth affectionately over the crown of his head & the overwhelming relief of finally doing this properly, the pleasure of having his hair played with--

❄️the intimacy of the act & how it soothed him immediately, being cared for & doted on, being allowed to feel small & fragile like this but so safe and protected here, makes him start to doze off,

❄️first struggling to keep his eyes open then allowing them to flutter shut but still trying to stay awake ❄️then quiet, steady breaths in as he's out like a light, still suckling a bit in his sleep ❄️no matter how many times he does it, he usually dozes off at some point during,

❄️this first time sleeping well into morning, waking up tucked in neatly, his partner asleep beside him, not unsealing his portion of blankets, keeping one for themselves--enough to avoid a chill, but keeping a hand free to touch his, wanting him to know everything's alright

❄️that he doesn't need to feel ashamed now that the scene's over, if he's even out of the headspace yet. they want to make sure he's okay, they want to wake up next to him--they want to make sure he knows that asking for that didn't drive them away

❄️he's quiet & doesn't usually lapse into using titles, at least outside of his own head, but he's very much not opposed to a partner referring to themselves that way, as "mommy" or "daddy," whichever their preference

❄️it makes his ears go red & he can't look them in the eyes but he always tries (& fails) to hide his bulge, his body so receptive to it ❄️lactation is a huge turn on & is probably how these scenes delve into anything where arousal is actually tended to but it's not a necessity

❄️his enjoyment of it isn't reliant on that in the first place & he doesn't want anyone going out of their way to make it happen (or to subject themselves to any supernatural situations for it, esp if it causes any pain), the headspace making him more than content with pretending

❄️but when he gets to, he drinks like his life depends on it, trying to commit the taste to memory, desperate for every drop, even apologizing when he knows he's sucking too hard & for too long but is unable to get himself to stop

❄️he's also much more talkative & much more physical if he actually gets to drink: panting out "thank you"s as he sucks at their chest, whimpering as he humps their thigh or grinds against the junction of thigh & hip

🧙‍♀️(that's it for now, thank u for reading~ ;w;)👾