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treacheryinblue · 15 days ago

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「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter one

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 6.2k comment to be added to the tag list for future chapters!

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“Goddamn. This apartment just got so much better.”

Your mouth fell agape after you followed your best friend’s gaze until you were both staring across to the window opposite of yours. With only a narrow walkway separating the two apartment buildings, it gave you a perfect view into the curtainless home.

A man stood in the living room, shirtless, his torso of tattoos on display for you to gawk at. Your eyes trailed the bits of bare skin slowly, pausing just where his black athletic shorts sat low on his hips. He was doing some stretches that you immediately recognized as yoga poses. Not your workout of choice but who were you to judge when your breakfast that morning had been a stale bag of Doritos?

“Fuck…I didn't know yoga could be so hot.”

Both you and Melinda - Mel - took synchronized steps closer before kneeling onto your couch, elbows resting on the back ledge for comfort.

“Should we be watching him like this? I mean…doesn't it make us kinda creepy?”

Mel shrugged, her palms shifting to cradle her chin as she stared adoringly at your way too hot neighbor. “Nah, it's fine. It would only be creepy if he was watching you work out.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical.”

“He's the one half naked in front of an open window!” She motioned dramatically to the lack of coverings on the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment. “He's asking to be watched.”

With a roll of your eyes you could only laugh, head shaking at your friend. You weren't going to touch on that specific topic with her because Mel could be rather sensitive at times. The last thing you needed after enduring the stress of moving was to have a petty argument break out.

“Shit, I gotta go. I'd love to sit and watch this absolutely stunning show all day, but Madam Roslyn needs her brat’s dry cleaning.”

Your nose scrunched at the mention of Mel's boss. She used the term ‘Madam’ in mockery towards the horrid woman, although that's how Roslyn preferred to be addressed. She clearly didn't view it as laughable as the rest of the city did when referring to a millionaire with two ridiculously evil twins.

“Tell Satan and Lucifer ‘hi’ for me.”

“You do know that's pretty redundant, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't care. It gets my point across.” You waved her off with a motion of your hand before bringing the same hand to your lips to blow a kiss in her direction.

“Bye, bitch! Let me know if you go fuck your neighbor!”

The request didn't even warrant a response because of how unlikely that scenario actually was. Mel knew this too. She had begged you on many occasions to go out and 'stretch your legs' again aka spread them for whatever guy looked your way at a bar, and each time you did exactly the opposite. That wasn't a mistake you were going to make again. Too many scars still lingered from last time – physical and mental.

After Mel securely closed your front door you allowed your attention to shift back out the window. Although this time when you looked out a pair of eyes were staring back at you. His hands were on his hips, his breathing slightly labored, both of you holding the other's gaze for a beat too long. Your eyes widened and you froze as you were caught in the act, but the guy only did what you could assume was a laugh from so far away, his hand then lifting in a slight wave.

You dropped down to your couch suddenly so you were no longer visible. Your heart hammering away violently within your chest. Dammit. How fucking awkward.

X X X

Days were long and the nights even longer. You had managed to pick up a couple of jobs to help ease the financial burden of moving despite the hefty amount of cash stashed away beneath a pried up floorboard in your closet. It wasn't the greatest hiding place but you didn't want to risk such a large sum of money randomly going into your bank account. You feared it would trigger an alert of sorts to those you were better off without. The feeling of having to hide was exhausting and you wished more than anything that things didn't have to be this way.

If only you had been smarter. Less naive. Not so gullible.

You yawned as you kicked your shoes off after a tiring day of being a personal errand girl for an old man that simply went by Red. Mel had helped you get the job through her connections with Madam Roslyn and the man reminded you of your grandfather when he had been alive and well. It was an opportunity you hadn't been able to pass up. The pay was decent and he was kind enough to give you the main holidays and most weekends off. What more could you ask for in the bustling city?

Unfortunately, his generous pay still wasn't enough to keep you afloat and comfortable in your new life. Never would you go back to skipping meals or clinging to someone because of the way they ‘took care’ of you. You were determined to do it on your own.

“Shauna said you can get a job with her!”

There was a fury of noise in the background of wherever Mel was, leading you to believe she had agreed to stay later with Madam Roslyn’s little terrors. Thank god you had gotten a better deal with Red’s assistant gig. Mouthy children were not your forte.

“The Shauna who works at that one club? The one with black velvet walls?”

“Wait…how big are your tits?”

You paused from tugging your shirt off to look at the phone as if your best friend could see your expression from across the city. Your unamused face was from both her knack of ignoring your questions and also asking some ridiculous ones of her own.

“Okay, whatever, doesn't matter. You're hot and have a nice ass.” Mel quickly covered as if her question hadn't caused hundreds of others to arise.

“What the hell kind of job is this? But I can't leave Red anyway, not after he talked to me all day today about how his grandkids never visit anymore. Shit is depressing.” You scurried around your room while changing into your comfortable attire for the evening. Oversized tee, pajama shorts, and fuzzy socks. It didn't matter what time of the year it was because your feet were always freezing.

“That's the beauty of it!” Mel squealed in delight from the other end of the call. “It's a nighttime gig. I think she said she goes in around eight and gets off at two –”

“In the morning?!”

“I know you aren't worried about getting your beauty rest. I've seen you party all night and rally for work with fifteen minutes of sleep on the bus.”

Okay, she had you there. You were the queen of functioning with little to no sleep. It was both a blessing and a curse.

“Maybe. I guess. I'll have to see what kind of availability I'd be able to give.”

With one hand carrying your phone and the other clutching a box of crackers, a pack of cheese tucked into your elbow, you came to an abrupt halt in front of your couch. Right across the currently empty sidewalk was your hot neighbor…naked…with a girl pressed against the glass. Her back was to you and her legs wrapped securely around his hips, that of which were currently ricocheting between her thighs at a rapid pace. Your eyes widened, the words you had been about to speak to Mel dying on your tongue to leave nothing but the sound of her trying to grab your attention.

“Hello? Helloooo?”

“He's fucking a girl right now.”

“What? Who? Oh my god! Hot neighbor?!”

You nodded, and even though Mel couldn't see you she still erupted in excitement as if she was standing right beside you and witnessing the act as well.

“What does she look like? Is she hot too? I bet he bags all the tattooed baddies.”

“All I can see is the back of her head and her ass, Mel. I don't know.”

The phone in your hand was set down after you switched it to speaker, your “girl dinner” also dropping to the couch to be tended to in a few. You were frantically trying to close your curtains to give him some privacy whether he wanted it or not, but your sudden movements must've somehow garnered his attention.

Just as you were about to fully close your curtains his head tilted in your direction, your eyes meeting again just as they had a few days prior, but this time over the unaware girl’s shoulder. And just like then, you froze. His thrusts slowed to a pace that you just knew had to be agonizingly torturous, though you could tell by the rippling of the girl's ass that he was still being rather rough. A faint smirk tugged at his lips…or what you assumed was a smirk due to the distance between your windows. No, you were pretty sure he was smirking at you. Had he even been waiting for you to appear and see the show?

Okay, so hot neighbor was smug as hell. You couldn't say you were surprised by that. Just the eye contact you two held was enough to drive a warmth through the entirety of your body, more specifically right between your thighs. A chill even radiated down your spine despite your flushed skin and you briefly found yourself wondering what it was like to currently be that girl pressed against his window.

“Flash your tits! Maybe he’ll invite you over to join!”

“Melinda!” You hissed, the screech of the curtains finally coming together to block out the scene interrupting your scolding.

“Fuck. This guy has got to get some blinds or something.”

Later that night while in bed, your hand had drifted down between your thighs to help ease the tension that had grown rather quickly all thanks to that damned smirk.

X X X

There were times when you were alone that you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your overthinking had become less and less controlled until it ate you up, leaving your cuticles in tatters and the constant sound of your foot tapping against the hardwood floor had become the soundtrack of your life. You were terrified constantly. There were so many things that could go wrong that you were truly just waiting for the pin to drop because you knew it would eventually, it was just a matter of when.

When would you be found? When would you make the single dumb decision that would change your life forever? When would you end up six feet under at the hands of the people you were once involved with?

Living with these thoughts day to day wasn't healthy. You knew this. You didn't need to pay some $500 an hour specialist to recite the obvious, nor did you need to sit around in a circle and reveal your deepest thoughts to strangers in a support group that only had fake sympathies to offer. This was something you could handle on your own, or so you liked to constantly remind yourself. If your past had told you anything, it was that you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself anyway.

You took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly exhaled while counting backwards from ten. The trick didn't work as well as it used to but you were still hopeful with every attempt. It was your first day off in over a week and while your body desperately needed the rest, your brain was still going a million miles a minute. There was a bottle of overpriced wine you had yet to touch that was living in your fridge, that of which could easily take the worries away, but you resisted. That was only a temporary fix.

As you shifted your position on the couch for the first time in two hours, you couldn't stop your gaze from drifting out the window. Most of the time he was never there, obviously off living his life to the fullest and unconcerned about you, the strange woman who creepily watched him. But much to your surprise, there he sat. He appeared to be alone from the glimpse you took, his long body spread out on his couch in a mimic of your own. Maybe he felt your eyes on him or maybe he had been curious about you as well because after only a couple of seconds his head lifted and angled perfectly for where you sat.

Like every time before, he didn't shy away from your stare. You decided to follow his lead and not look elsewhere either. You could even feel the faintest smile appearing over your lips, a friendly acknowledgement that you saw him and also saw him seeing you.

Hot neighbor’s eyebrows pulled together slightly and his head nodded upwards, a curious expression working over his features. You figured he wanted to know what you were doing, so you promptly lifted your book so he could see the spread pages. It wasn't like he had to know that you hadn't flipped a single one in a good hour. He nodded, his face now reading as impressed. A brief moment later and he was exchanging the same information with you, allowing you to see the notebook and pen held within his hands. A writer? How interesting.

It was amazing what could be communicated without words.

Long, drawn out seconds later, you both returned to your own lives, but you still occasionally found yourself glancing to his curtainless window.

X X X

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O! You can take me hot to go!” You loudly sang with the group crowded into your apartment, all of you tossing your hands up along with the lyrics in the way Chappell Roan had bestowed upon you.

Surely you would get a fine for being so loud but you and Captain Morgan couldn't care less. At that moment you were having the time of your life for the first time in months and that's what was important to you. Not work. Not the dark cloud looming over your head. Nothing but having the best fucking time before reality set in.

Mel danced up against you as you ground your hips into Dean, one of your other friends who always had the best manicures and didn't know what a “full length shirt” was. If he wasn't showing off his abs then what was the point of life? All his words.

“Order up, I'm hot to goooo!” You tossed your hair around and dragged your hands along the length of your body, paying special attention to your chest and hips - both of which were accentuated in the dress you wore.

How had you ever thought throwing a “house warming” party would be a bad idea? God, sober you was such a fucking drag sometimes. Parties were fun as hell and you made a silent pledge to yourself right then to have them more.

As your fingertips dragged along your thighs, hiking the hem of your dress up a bit in the process, you felt your body becoming abnormally warm. Alcohol always made you flush but this was a different sensation, one that had only recently become known to you. You wanted to look around your apartment because you would've sworn he was in the same room as you, simply watching you dance and have a good time. No way could his stare be this powerful from all the way in the apartment building opposite of yours.

But alas, you were wrong.

Your glitter dusted eyes drifted to your window where twinkling lights had been hung. You could just barely make out the image of his silhouette across the walkway, one hand in his pocket as the other arm rested against the glass above his head. Thanks to his eyes acting like actual fingers, you didn't need to question the possibility of what he was focused on. You could feel every trace along your heated skin.

Although he was a distance away, you were imagining that he was right across the room. Watching you. Devouring you. Dean wandered off to join a duo he excitedly greeted as they walked in, leaving the front of your body on full display for hot neighbor. Your hips continued to sway while your hands trailed along your body, one paying special attention to your breasts as the other slowly lowered back down to where the short hem of your dress rested at the top of your thighs. You imagined him licking his lips and raising his eyebrows for you to continue, silently challenging you to put on more of a show for him.

It didn’t matter how many people were in your apartment and could see you because everything you did in that moment was for him and only him.

Ever so slowly your fingers dipped beneath your dress to trace along your inner thigh to tease him, and also yourself in the process. You didn't think it was possible for his gaze to become even heavier but you swore it drank you in and swallowed you up. The hand on your chest pushed up against your breast and your fingers dug into the ample flesh, threatening to tug the fabric down and bare yourself to him. Every inch of your body was aflame, your nerves screaming to be touched by his heavily tattooed hands you had daydreamed of on more than one occasion.

You had no idea what it was about this man that had you in such a chokehold. Everything about him was unknown to you, yet you still craved him. Maybe even more than you had ever desired anyone before.

The sound of your name being repeated pulled you from your trance until you had no choice but to rip your gaze from his. The music blasting through your apartment came flooding back in and you were suddenly aware of where you were again, as well as all the people surrounding you. Thankfully it didn't seem as if anyone had noticed your little bout of hypnosis.

“We need towels!” Mel was calling to you from over the music, motioning towards the kitchen where an obnoxiously drunk guy appeared to have knocked over an entire bottle of Tito’s Vodka. The liquor was puddled on the floor, shards of glass glistening in the liquid it previously housed.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled before yelling back to Mel an explanation of where she could find some spare towels. Maybe you should've gone to clean it up yourself since you were the host but you were eager to get back to the eye fucking you had been participating in with hot neighbor. Unfortunately, when you looked back through the large windows, his apartment was empty.

X X X

“I feel so ridiculous,” you murmured to yourself beneath your breath, following the statement up with a heavy sigh. For the tenth time you tugged at the tiny black skirt you had been provided to wear, the hem riding up your ass and cupping your cheeks in a suggestive yet desirable way. Maybe Mel had been right when she said you had a nice ass. Too bad it had taken your physical discomfort for you to realize this.

A blonde woman that appeared to be a few years older than you glanced your way with a snarky grimace, her eyes then rolling after taking you in. You tried not to pay any attention to her as you adjusted the straps of your top, as well as your breasts that were popping out. You had been told to wear your best bra, which you had, and now you could see why the request had been made. The uniforms at Nocturnal left very little to the imagination, but at least you were still wearing clothes.

You couldn't say as much for the red head that was sauntering around the dressing room with her tits out without a care in the world. Damn. How were you supposed to get that amount of confidence? It wasn't that you were insecure, but being in the sort of relationship you had previously had definitely done a number on your mental state. You had been conditioned to believe that showing your body for anyone but him was one of the biggest sins. Amongst many other things but you had been trying very hard not to allow your thoughts to drift to those dark places. Something as simple as a v-neck t-shirt had earned you a reprimand on more than one occasion.

“You're the new girl, yeah?” The attitude-filled blonde questioned while swiping eyeliner along her lower lash line. You glanced at her through the mirror you stood before, responding with only a slight nod. Her eyes looked you up and down again, a throaty laugh following her heavy gaze. “They're just going to looove you. New meat.”

“Shut the hell up, Charlotte. Why do you always have to be so catty with the new ones?”

Shauna came strutting into the room at just the right time to prevent you from making an enemy on day one. She stood at your side, one hand on her curvy hip, the other resting upon your bare shoulder. The snarky blonde that you now knew as Charlotte simply rolled her eyes in the same exaggerated fashion again, a manicured hand waving in dismissal to Shauna.

“Don't mind her,” Shauna leaned in a bit closer to you as if she was telling a secret but the volume of her voice never lowered. “She's just bitter because she doesn't get good tips anymore after her botched boob job. She's scared you'll take all of King’s attention. Not like she ever really had it to begin with.”

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing despite your attempt to stifle it. Charlotte shot a glare at you, her fist tightening around her curling iron that she was using to touch up portions of her hair.

“Oh, please. She's clearly not experienced enough to draw his eye. I'm not worried.”

“Who's King?” You looked back and forth between the two women, your confusion beyond evident. Charlotte again chuckled, her tongue swiping over her plump lips while giving Shauna a look that read as 'seriously?’.

“As I said, I'm not worried.”

“So grouchy,” Shauna whispered while giving your shoulder a squeeze. You couldn't help but to notice how they both ignored your question. “But you look amazing! I knew you'd fit right in around here.”

“What did she mean by all of that? Who's going to love me?” As far you knew, this was supposed to be a simple waitressing gig at a club. Sure, there was a room towards the back that housed the nude dancers but you had made it very clear that wasn't going to be your area.

Shauna smiled kindly at you, soft laughter emitting from her. “She probably just meant the regulars,” she explained as she took your hand and began to lead you out of the dressing room. “They're the best tippers and are always on a first name basis with the girls. A few can get a little handsy but they know the servers are off limits. They have to go to the back rooms for that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in further confusion but you didn't dare voice your questions. While you weren't naive when it came to this sort of “scene”, you also weren't well versed in it. All you really knew was what you had seen from movies and read in your books, as well as the conversations you'd eavesdrop in on between your ex and his pals. Never did you think you'd actually be a part of any of it.

Shauna dragged you along to the bar off to the side. The music was loud enough that you couldn't even hear yourself think, so you had no idea how you were supposed to take drink orders in this place. Bodies were already piled in, all of them dancing and swaying to the music, tabletops filled with those enjoying the scenery and atmosphere. Nothing too out of the ordinary so far in comparison to waitressing jobs in the past. Those had been at family friendly restaurants, but how different could it really be?

“I'm going to start you off with a couple of lower tables, okay? Only until you get the hang of it.” Shauna had her mouth close to your ear as she explained things, aiding in your inability to read her lips well enough.

“I'm just taking drink orders, right? It can't be too bad.” You shrugged, a notepad and pen now in your grasp that she had passed your way. Shauna side eyed you with a smile and a slow nod of her head, silently communicating that she wasn't too sure about that.

“Only thing you really need to know is that you've gotta smile and be friendly! These guys aren't dropping hundreds of dollars to be served by a witch with a stick up her ass. No matter how nice it may be. They like attention and thinking they have a shot with you, even though they have zero chances.” Shauna’s laughter continued as her eyes traveled along what appeared to be business men along the opposite side where the more private booths were located. “But like you said, it can't be too bad, yeah?”

Oh, how wrong you had been. Only a couple of hours in and your feet were already aching, your black top damp and chest sticky from the drink you had recently spilled on yourself, and your frustrations were rising by the minute. It didn't help that Charlotte had decided to steal one of your main tables, leaving you with only one, as well as a couple of small bar tops. Despite your overwhelmed demeanor, the club never stopped filling. More and more bodies pressed together and you swore the music had also been cranked higher, the lights dimmed red to further set the vibe. Fuck, you were going to crash and burn on only your first night.

“Hey!” A whistle garnered your attention, your head quickly turning to the bartender whose name you still hadn't caught. “Can you take these to VIP?” He slid a couple of glasses your way and then began to take the order of another patron before you could even reply. Your mouth opened and closed in an attempt to explain that you weren't serving VIP that night. You didn't even know where the hell VIP was.

“Up those steps and to the right!” The same red head from the dressing rooms earlier sauntered by you while carrying a tray of empty glasses that she quickly disposed of and replaced with fresh drinks. She was no longer naked, instead adorned in the same uniform as every other waitress.

“I…Shauna told me to stay on the lower levels,” you tossed back nervously, shaking your head.

“Look, we're swamped! Just take the drinks up and then I'll take VIP again after I drop these off. Easy!” Then, just like the bartender, the red head was disappearing before you could respond.

You looked at the drinks, the winding stairs that lead to the VIP level, and then back to the drinks. The glasses were already starting to sweat so you knew you had a narrow window before they became too watered down. With a deep breath, you snatched up the drinks and strutted towards the steps with as much confidence as your exhausted limbs could muster. Which, honestly, wasn't much.

One step was cautiously taken after another, the music fading the higher you ascended. You sighed in relief when your ability to hear just yourself again resurfaced and you suddenly realized why VIP was so sought after by all the waitresses. You knew it couldn't be solely because of the tips you were likely to secure. It was also the peace of mind.

VIP was darker than the lower levels because the lights shifting through the space never angled correctly to douse it in much color. You figured this was done with a purpose. The back perimeter was lined with black leather sectionals, glass tables centered in front of each one, and there was a railing that allowed patrons to overlook the lower level. Since this wasn't a very party-heavy area, you couldn't help but to assume it's where business took place. You had been in spaces like this many times before finding your way to this city. The thought made you uneasy because “business” sometimes meant paperwork and meetings, but it could also mean something more violent.

Three men sat off to the right, two of them smoking cigars while the other fidgeted with something in his hand. A coin, by the looks of it. Silence overtook them when one noticed you, his eyes immediately raking over your body. It felt nothing like it did when hot neighbor did the same. Both were strangers but there was something about this particular unknown man you didn't care for. He was older, which wasn't the problem, it was more so the dead look in his eyes.

“My sincerest apologies for the delay, gentleman,” you smiled while laying it on thick.

“Where's Dana?”

The man to the right spoke up, his disdain towards you quite obvious. You figured Dana was the red head you had spoken to at the bar, or so you were going to safely assume. “She’s briefly tied up with another table. She'll be right back with you. Until then, can I get you anything else?” You forced a smile, the sweetest possible in the moment.

“Yeah,” the same rude man took a swallow from his drink and then motioned for you to step closer. “Come here. I haven't seen you before. I'd remember.”

There was no hesitation in your motions as you closed the space between yourself and the man, no matter how uneasy he made you. Nothing had happened to make you believe he was outwardly dangerous, although you could see right through him. You knew he was the type that liked to destroy others. It was written in his eyes and the $20,000 watch hanging from his wrist.

“What's your name?”

Shit. Shauna had told you earlier to make up an alias for yourself and you had been too caught up with actually working that you had forgotten. She explained it was for safety but also because it could be fun to play someone else. You didn't tell her you were already doing as much and it wasn't nearly as fun as the club assumed.

“Genevieve,” you slowly drawled. The name of your late grandmother. Oh how she’d get a kick out of this.

The man smirked through a cloud of smoke, his lifeless eyes again looking you up and down. “Genevieve. How beautiful.” He was suddenly reaching out for you, his hand grasping your wrist to pull you closer. Keeping a hold of your wrist, he set his drink aside to free the other so he could grope along your hip and down the side of your exposed thigh. You softly gasped in shock but you didn't jerk away like your mind was screaming at you to do. Instead you stood frozen, fear shuddering through your veins.

“Hasn't the boss and his right hand already warned you about touching the servers?” One of the other men laughed as if you were nothing more than an object for their enjoyment. In their eyes that's exactly what you were.

Dead Eyes kept his focus on you, his rough fingertips still trailing your thigh. “Fuck the boss and his little bitch boy. What's his name? King? Kid thinks he runs this place.”

Tears threatened to well in your eyes but you refused to let your fear show. That's what men like these wanted. They craved to feel the power they held over others, but especially women. It made them feel special in their minuscule lives. In reality, it made them weak.

The man you stood before halted the motion of his hand just as it grazed the back of your thigh and threatened to disappear beneath your already barely-there skirt. His eyes were now looking past you, annoyance showing in his hollow gaze before his hand fell from your body. He dropped your wrist with a force while simultaneously pushing you back an inch.

“You were already given a warning, Marcus. Two, if I remember correctly.” A new voice greeted your ears, yet you were still too frozen to turn and see who it belonged to. You could feel his eyes, though. It was so familiar. Heavy. “But here you are, still harassing the staff.”

A figure stepped around you, gently nudging you back a few more steps. He was much taller than you with dark hair, his outfit black on black, at least from what you could tell from behind. There was something about him that commanded the attention of the room and you were more than willing to give it to him. So much that you hadn't even noticed the way he was leaning closer to the man now known as Marcus, his body slightly bent and an extended hand holding something to the repulsive man's neck. A peek to the left and you could just barely see the black splotches of ink that covered his own hand.

“Why do you insist on touching what doesn't belong to you?” His voice lowered, the words being hissed in a threatening manner. “Don't make me remind you again just who here is the real bitch boy.”

Marcus murmured something that sounded like an agreement, maybe an apology, which was apparently enough for the man because he stood back to his full height and then closed the knife you hadn't previously realized he was in possession of. As he turned to the side you could see the bright red line of blood that was sliced into Marcus' neck - his punishment. The wound was shallow, definitely not deadly, but you figured it got his point across.

The man was then facing you and you slowly raised your attention to him. Your breath caught in your throat and recognition flared in your eyes. You were sure the brief shock you saw in his gaze mimicked your own, though his was fleeting and quickly returned back to the hardened glare.

Hot neighbor.

“I'll be sure to mention to the boss that we had a talk tonight, gentlemen.” The man spoke to the small group without so much as a glance back to them. His attention was too focused on you, his hand placed on the middle of your back to help guide you around and towards the spiral staircase. You assumed he was going to leave you once you began your descent but he was right on your heels for the entirety of the trek, only pausing once you nearly reached the lower level.

Lightly grasping your arm, he gave a gentle tug to bring you closer before you could scurry away. “I think a 'thank you’ is in order.” You could hear the smile in his voice, as if this situation was amusing to him. Maybe it was. You knew next to nothing about him so it wasn't as if you could truly gauge his reaction.

“I didn't need your help,” you fired back. You didn't like to be told what to do by men on a power trip. Not anymore. “I could've handled it myself.”

“Really?” His smile widened and his posture dipped so your eyes could better meet through the darkness. “Because it looked to me like you were a frightened deer caught in the headlights. Very consistent for you.”

At least he was admitting that he knew who you were without truly saying it. You had given him the same look from your apartment window on multiple occasions now.

You remained silent, your eyes burrowing into his instead of trailing along his face like you desperately felt the need to. For reasons unknown you wanted to memorize every little detail and carry the memory with you forever. It didn't matter that you knew you should be somewhat afraid of him after the physical threat he placed upon Marcus. The idea of him doing the same to you never even crossed your naive mind.

When you still didn’t respond, but also refused to back down, he returned to his full towering height over you and dropped his smile. It was like he had pulled a mask over his face to be whoever it was Nocturnal expected. But what did you know? This could be the true version of himself instead of the one you had been witnessing from your window for over a month.

“Run along, little deer,” he gently spoke, his tone condescending, just before disappearing back up the spiral staircase.

CHAPTER TWO

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mins-fins · 6 months ago

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remember summer days !

"i love summer because i love you.."

synopsis: forever going beaches, aggressive seagulls, brain freezing ice cream, many many shots, summer vacation is simply two months where you can be as reckless as possible without scathing schoolwork and the crushing feeling of student loans on your back, your two months to be an idiot without the worry of missing your morning classes due to hangovers, but there's something different about this summer. why didn't anyone tell mark that he could've possibly fallen in love with his best friend over the course of two months? who knew that you were really the one the whole time?

pairing: mark lee x male!reader

genre: university au, summer romance, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, light angst, humor(?), mutual pining, kinda sort of kinda suggestive, mainly mark pov

warnings: swearing, explicit language, sexual jokes, implications of sex but no smut, mentions of sexual harassment, smoking & alcohol consumption, complicated feelings, pathetic best friends are in love with each other but are dumb and don't realize until 15 years too late

word count: 15.9k

notes: the way i convinced myself i was never going to finish this and itd just become send in the clowns pt.2 😭 after the trials and tribulations of life, and hospital visit after hospital visit, i have finally posted something above 10k words!! applause!! (crickets) this has been in the drafts for FOUR MONTHS.. since march 10th ive been pressuring myself to finish, i literally finished endless nameless before this.. what kind of work ethic is that? also this was supposed to be sooooo much sadder and the og ending was supposed to bring tears BUT i am a saint and decided to not put you guys through torture bc most of my mark works are angsty anyway and because user junjiie would block me if i ever put him through another mark angst fest again 😁 speaking of user junjiie, thank you for listening to everything that i spout in your inbox.. your the best 🫶 and if youve ever wanted to kiss mark, your in the right place 👍

THE RUSHING OF THE OCEAN BEFORE him is all that's present in marks ears. the sand in his shoes don't register in his mind, nor do the seagulls eating bread right in front of him, just the ocean. the ocean is beautiful, a serene endless reservoir, one mark wishes he could just jump into and never leave. he can't focus on anything else around him, not the upcoming sunset, not the squawking birds, not the people muttering about the eventide, not even how beautiful his surroundings are, the ocean is his main center of attention, and mark spends so much time admiring it. the ocean is beautiful, it's monumental, mark can't exactly put it into more words, he might run out almost immediately. in moments like these, it doesn't matter the words he uses, it's just being immersed in the scenery that matters.

"hello? earth to lee minhyung!"

mark flinches, but his shoulders quickly relax when he sees who the yeller was. it's just you. annoying, absentminded, angel faced you, a small smile makes itself present on your features as you finally catch the formerly spaced out male's attention.

"thank god, for a moment there i thought you were gone".

mark doesn't find himself snickering at your words, he instead gives you that 'really?' stare, it's not that your joke wasn't funny, he just doesn't have the energy to laugh. "why are you even yelling? were on a public beach, idiot".

mark mutters the last word, but he knows you heard it anyway because you put your arm around him and pinch him in his shoulder as payback. he winces at the pain, you and your unusually strong fingers, you just smile in victory.

oh you, always so eager for revenge.

"you were staring at the ocean like it was your one true love, what? were you imagining hyuck or something?"

mark doesn't even know when the two of you began walking, but he isn't exactly focused on that, or your teasing words which hint at something that is completely false, he's more focused on how breathtaking you are.

mark would never say it's..anything not platonic. sometimes, though, he can't help but focus on just how amazing your features compliment you. you always look beautiful like this, in lightings like this is what he means.

mark isn't an idiot, he can acknowledge how attractive you are, even if you always tease him whenever he compliments you.

"i was just admiring it, why does there always have to be something more with you?" his quick rebuttal doesn't make it past you so easily, but you decide to go easy on mark, you can't just tease him the whole time, or you'll just start going back and forth.

"because, you're always so extra, there's no reason you should be staring at the ocean like you want to kiss it or something".

mark rolls his eyes, you're so stupid, you always have something to say, your mind must be so full of things, considering you constantly have a reply for mark locked and loaded, ready to go. "you can't even try to go easy on me?"

"nope, you know me, annoying you is the best part of my day!"

mark does know, it's like you've made it your life mission to never let him live anything down the moment you two met at a random park in vancouver when you were just little kids trying to figure out how to navigate the world. whether it was you following mark home, teasing him after beating him at basketball, or you were making fun of the way he styled his hair that day, you've never allowed mark lee to exist peacefully since you two decided to cross paths.

even as adults, adults who are studying to get bachelor's degrees, who pay their own bills, who can now legally drink, and who don't need parental consent to do anything anymore, you'll still never let mark live anything down.

it's fun to annoy you! you always tell mark, a tormenting on your face as giggles escaped your lips.

"i wish i didn't know you".

you manage a gasp of fake offense, placing a hand on your chest in pure shock. mark seems pleased, he shakes out of your hold and begins walking forward, leaving you and your dramatics behind.

you snicker, raising an eyebrow. you quickly catch up to him, hands shoved into your pockets as you give your best friend that familiar taunting smile, the one you know that he can't stand. "you're so mean to me, minhyung".

mark just scoffs, trying his best to ignore you. you don't take that, though, instead walking right up to him and lacing your fingers together. "don't ignore me".

please, mark wishes he could.

"you're annoying".

that familiar taunting smile comes to your lips, a soar of victory in your chest. "i know" you reply simply, squeezing his hand. "now do you wanna watch the sunset or what?"

it's only now that the realization dawns on mark, the sunset, how could he even forget?

to be fair, it's hard to focus on the sunset when your gorgeous best friend is holding your hand staring at your lips—

"you dummy" you say almost immediately. "you were the one who kept pestering me about the sunset and you forgot?"

"i was focused on other things.."

"let me guess" you pretend to think, fingers still intertwined with marks as you pull him and the two of you begin walking back towards the beach you'd walked away from. "you were too focused on my alluring beauty?"

mark shoves you with his shoulder. "you wish".

"i don't have to wish, you think i'm the prettiest boy in the world".

you do have a knack for the dramatics. mark doesn't know how many more eye rolls he can do before you realize he isn't exactly lying about finding you attractive, he just would never admit it to your face, one: because he doesn't want to stroke your ego, and two: he truly doesn't have the balls to.

"please, get over yourself".

"it's not my fault you want to kiss me so bad, you have the perfect opportunity to anywa—"

mark immediately shoves your face away when you pucker your lips and try to lean closer. "ew no, you probably taste like cigarettes".

mark finally snakes out of your hold, walking ahead of you and back towards the beach. his face is red, only heating up more as he hears your tormenting giggles.

how do you even have an affect like this on him? he'll never know, but he'll continue standing his ground.

mark lee will never admit to your face that he's attracted to you, or that he wants to kiss you, or that you're probably the prettiest boy he's ever met.

mark lee doesn't have the confidence to admit any of that to your face.

MARK ALWAYS MAKES THE MISTAKE OF UNDERESTIMATING your alcohol tolerance. back to back drinks seem to be your thing, and he has no idea how you can even do that without even feeling like you're going to throw up. mark feels nauseous just watching the whole thing go down, but he's gotten used to the unpredictability of your character, so the idea of you being this "crazy drinker" isn't exactly a far fetched kind of claim, you don't even get offended when people say it anymore. you seem to enjoy fully embracing the insults you get from people, it's kind of admirable.. in a sense? mark doesn't know how to explain it, because it sounds stupid when put into words.

"sir can i have one mor—"

"oh no! no no no! no more drinks for you" mark immediately cuts you off, putting his arm around your shoulder to support you. he smiles politely at the man behind the counter, and he helps you stand up, ignoring your disagreeing whines. "my apologies, we'll be heading out now".

"mark!" you whine, stretching the letters of his name whilst letting your body fall against his. "you can't do this to me, i wasn't done yet" your drunken complaints fall deaf on mark's ears, and he pulls you back up once again, your arm coming up to wrap around his waist. he's basically supporting your whole body, as you can barely even walk yourself.

"it's two in the morning, y/n" mark states, but you don't really care, you just pout. "you can't afford to drink anymore, you're going to die if you keep drinking like this".

"if i die at least i'll die beautiful".

your words slur together in an idiotic way, and you laugh like you're the most hilarious person in the world. you lean against mark, letting him carry you through the streets of jeju, closing your eyes. "yeah well, if you think i'm letting you intoxicate yourself to the point of blacking out, you're out of your mind".

"because you are so in love with me?"

"no, because you're my best friend".

and maybe i am just a little in love with you, but that isn't important right now.

"sure, keep telling yourself that mark lee".

mark hates when you get drunk like this, because it's like the moment the alcohol sinks into your system, you become a mind reader. you can always seem to tell what's going on with mark when your drunk out of your mind, like you just reach into his brain and pull out his biggest secrets.

he never knows how you do it, or how you just magically forget everything you say when your sober (he's actually grateful you do, because the kind of stuff you say when your drunk should stay like that, drunk remarks).

"i can walk on my own, you know.." you mutter, clearly very out of it. the words only make mark's arm tighten around you, he cannot afford to let you go, because you're going to collapse onto the street and never be able to pick yourself up. he doesn't care about your complaints, your whining, or how you're trying to separate yourself from him, he only has one goal, to make sure you get back to the house, and get to bed. "you don't need to carry me".

"your legs are practically useless right now, y/n, don't argue with me" mark somehow manages to hold you up with one arm as he rummages through his pocket, looking for the keys to the house. you clearly want to argue with him, but you can't, instead slumping to the side and pouting.

finally, mark finds the keys to the house and unlocks the door, hoisting you up and helping you step in. "you're like my prince charming, you know that markie?"

you sound like your going insane, you always get like this when your drunk. mark thinks he doesn't mind that much, your extra hilarious when drunk, even with how annoying you are when your wasted (not like you aren't also annoying when sober).

"that's nice, y/n" you whine once again when mark lets go of you, but you let yourself fall back onto the couch, curling onto it and wrapping your arms around your own waist, suddenly chilly.

"are you cold?"

there's a certain tone of disbelief in mark's voice, and you guess he has a point. it's mid-july, the two of you are on an island, and all temperatures are high right now, how could you even be cold?

"just kinda chilly.."

"in the middle of july?" mark questions, focused on his mission of searching for cups in the kitchen cupboards. he needs to help you sober up, or maybe he'll just let you go to sleep like this (actually he can't, you'd complain all morning if you woke up with such a hangover).

"i can't control the random chills i get, mark" you seem to enjoy whining about stupid things. you tighten your own hold around your waist, as if trying to heat up your own body yourself. "it's like elsa's living here or something".

"okay you big baby" mark responds, walking up to you and handing a glass of water. you stare at the cup for a good minute or so before finally taking it, though you can't exactly stomach water at the moment, you appreciate how much mark is doing for you. "get better and go to sleep".

you still feel just a little nauseous, and you realize back to back drinks for hours probably wasn't the best idea. you cover your face with your hands, yet another complaining whine escaping your lips. "it's not as easy as it sounds, minhyung".

"you could at least drink the water, appreciate my efforts".

"i do appreciate your efforts, i just feel like i'm about to throw up".

"that's what you get for doing all of that drinking".

you have no more energy to argue with your best friend, instead turning over and making yourself comfortable on the couch, your head placed on his lap. "yeah yeah, whatever smartass, now let me sleep.."

mark chuckles. "you don't want to go to your room?"

"no, your my pillow now, you legally have to stay here".

mark raises an eyebrow, amused by your sudden change of heart. "legally?"

"yes legally, now be quiet and let me sleep".

mark shuts his mouth, not only because he doesn't want to argue with you, but because you did really need this sleep.

he doesn't mind this, he decides.

"WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING?" MARK LOOKS UP UPON hearing your inquiry, his eyes finally moving away from his computer and focusing on you. your hair is messy, he assumes from the roughness you used when drying it, and your clothes look comfy. it's that pajama set yuta got you for your birthday that you swore you hated and would never wear ever. he laughs in his head at the fact, but then he focuses back on you, realizing he indeed does have a question to answer. "grey's anatomy" he answers just as unnaturally as he thought he would, he internally cringes at the fact. you raise an eyebrow, clearly questioning the show choice, but you make your way over to him anyway, the closer you get, the better mark can see you, your features practically glow in the dimly lit room.

"grey's anatomy? i didn't even know you liked that show.." you make space for yourself beside mark and prop yourself up on your elbows, eyes narrowing at his laptop screen. mark just lets you, it's been a long day, despite it being summer, mark still has so much to do, he never truly gets breaks.

"i don't really like it, it's kinda just a guilty pleasure" he replies, gesturing towards his computer. "cristina's the best character.."

"your just saying that because she's the only characters name you remember".

mark snorts, lightly nudging you. "are you really going to stay here with me?"

you give him a dumbfounded look, as if that was possibly the dumbest question he could've asked ever. "why would i not? would you prefer for me to ignore you while we're on vacation together? i wanna spend time with my best friend.."

mark hums, clasping his hands together. your words have an unchecked effect on him, a small red hue spreading across his cheeks. the words are so simple, so they shouldn't be having him react like this, he feels like he's going insane.

why do you make him feel like this?

mark never gets it with you.

you're just his best friend, you two have been together since you were six, it's crazy how even through all the crazy stuff that's happened in your lives, the two of you have somehow managed to survive, even with all odds stacked against you.

mark has to admit, you two aren't the most.. normal of a pair? there are times the two of you didn't talk for months, times where you couldn't even stand each other, but then are also times like this, times where you two are just regular best friends who do regular best friend things.

best friends hold hands.

best friends match jewelry.

best friends occasionally share a bed and wrap themselves in each other's arm whilst sleeping.

and best friends look at each other with the same kind of love admiration mark looks at you with.

when have you ever been anything more than friends? there has never been a romantic element there as far as mark knows. yeah you always make stupid jokes about the two of you being a couple, but you've never said anything which could imply that, and even if you are in love with him, you've never tried to act on those desires, not physically at least.

mark's never seen the way the two of you act to be weird, he could never get why other people always looked at you weird, like they knew something the two of you didn't.

and it's even weirder because your guys' other friends do the same thing, the shifty glances, the unnecessary eyebrow raising, and the stupid giggles.

mark remembers this one time jungwoo said this thing, and it's stuck with him ever since.

"what's with you and y/n?"

the question came out of nowhere, mark had been focused on some writing assignment he'd left to the last minute, sitting at the kitchen counter as he tried to figure out what huge words he could use to make himself sound sophisticated. "what do you mean?"

"you and y/n, you guys are weird, i can't tell if you're trying to look your dating or are actually a couple".

the statement came off as shocking to mark, why would he even begin to think that? when have you two ever come off as a couple? he has no idea..

"you're ridiculous, y/n and i aren't trying to look like we're dating".

mark said those words with confidence, but he doesn't even know if he's genuinely sure about that.

"yeah, sure" jungwoo scoffed, he has no faith in mark at all. "maybe you think you aren't, but he's surely trying to, he's literally so in love with you it's insane".

mark paused, thinking about it. maybe he just doesn't pay much attention to it, or maybe jungwoo was just making stuff up, he does really enjoy lying. "you might be crazy".

"i'm not! excuse my language, mark, but it is so obvious that y/n likes you, he wants to fuck you so bad it's disgusting!"

marks eyebrows furrowed, and he gave jungwoo that familiar 'are you serious?' look.

"y/n wants to fuck me?"

"oh he definitely does! he isn't even trying to hide it".

mark thinks all of your guys' friends must be crazy, experiencing a shared hysteria or something. you two don't act weird, your just how you always are.

"so?"

mark remembers this other thing as well, it was about a month before school ended, and he was sat on johnny's living room floor, flipping through the boring tv channels, trying to find anything interesting to watch. "so what?"

"what are you doing this summer?" the older asked, there was a clear annoyance in his voice, mark guesses it's because he had to ask the question like seven times. "any good plans?"

mark's fingers continued to click the remote, he doesn't remember what channel he was looking for, but he remembers shrugging in response to johnny's question. "not sure yet, y/n said he wanted the two of us to go somewhere together, but he hasn't really gotten back to me on that".

at the mere mention of you, a small laugh sounded from johnny, and mark noticed it enough that he paused his channel flipping. "y/n?"

"yes y/n, as in my best friend y/n, whose also your friend?"

"jesus that guys like, obsessed with you".

the words caused for mark to respond with his signature weird glance, he looked at johnny as if the older had just placed a curse on his entire family. "where is this coming from?"

"i just have eyes, mark, are you two really best friends? or have you just not discovered how you actually feel for each other?"

that was so strange.

mark immediately wanted to deny all of it, his eyes moved away from johnny and back to the tv, but he wasn't really focused on the tv, trying to find a response to the words that struck him like a punch to the gut. "i have no idea what your talking about".

"well i'm just saying what everyone else is saying".

and yeah, maybe mark's an idiot for not taking any of those words into account, but he doesn't really have to! if you were so in love with him like everyone assumed, you'd tell him, right? you two always tell each other what's going on in your lives, and that's to like, a concerning rate.

if you were in love with mark, you'd tell him, because what use is there in keeping such a big secret?

there's a lot of them, actually, mark, but you know y/n would never do that to you, he'd never.

MARK IS SLEEPLESS, LIKE— VERY. for the past few hours, all he's done is toss and turn in the same direction for who knows how long. his blanket is on the floor, but he doesn't exactly remember putting it there. he probably threw it off his bed during one of his many tossing fits a good couple hours ago. he groans, just accepting that he's not getting any sleep tonight. after hours of refusing to leave his bed, mark stretches his limbs, finally sitting up and swinging out of his bed since he got into it like four hours ago. no one whose on vacation sleeps early, but mark had assumed the exhaustion in his body would aid in helping him doze off, but his body is a weird one, so he hurriedly makes his way out of his room, suddenly craving water.

mark regrets choosing the room with the huge window right in front of the beach, yeah it's nice and everything but in the middle of the night, waking up the sound of the rushing ocean is just the slightest bit anxiety inducing, especially when he's in the middle of some horrible nightmare.

mark's feet take him directly where he wants to go, the kitchen, he needs a glass of water, maybe two, maybe three, heck— maybe seven. he doesn't think much about not seeing you, he just assumes you had better luck than him in the sleep department.

he only gets distracted on his walk when he hears a small sound, the sound of something hitting against the wall. he pauses in his steps, listening in to see if what he was hearing was actually real. it's silent for a few seconds, but then mark hears it again, the sound of something slamming against the wall.

it's coming from your room.

mark furrows his eyebrows, puzzled. now totally unfocused on his current goal, mark turns around and heads in the direction of your room, anxieties amping up as his mind begins thinking of horrible things.

god please don't be hurt please don't be hurt please please please please—

when mark peaks his head through your door, he's met with a strange sight. a clearly asleep you, muttering nonsense to yourself as you continuously weak into your dresser, bumping against it, then causing for it to bump against the wall. oh, mark gets it, your sleepwalking.

he sighs in relief, at least you aren't injured or something. he steps into the room, making his way towards you, he makes sure that he doesn't make too much noise walking, he doesn't want you to have some visceral reaction.

he gently taps your shoulder. "y/n".

no answer, you just walk into your dresser again.

"y/n" mark calls out again, but you don't answer him, just continue muttering to yourself as you walk into your dresser again, bumping roughly against it, causing for mark to wince, as if he was the one to collide with the dresser. he places both hands on your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

"y/n".

that seems to do the trick, because you startle out of your state, a gasp accompanying your actions. your startled state startles mark as well, whose hands quickly remove themselves from your shoulders. "okay okay, calm down, it's just me" his voice does calm you down, nothing else can be heard in the room besides the breathing of you two and the faint running of the ocean outside.

"oh, holy shit, what did i— what was that?"

mark has been through this with you many times before, he knows how to deal with stuff like this, he's gotten very in tune with your habits. "you were sleepwalking, y/n" he replies, and a look of disappointment settles on your face.

"again? ugh i thought i got rid of that stupid habit" you cover your face with your hands, stressed. "i didn't do anything crazy right? like.. turn on the oven? start the car? unlock the door?"

"no no, none of that" mark is weirded out. seeing the usually energetic, playful, joking you be so stressed, your voice so low compared to your usual shouting. he worries about you, a lot, so he puts his hand on your shoulder again. "seriously it's fine, you were just walking into your dresser and mumbling some unintelligible shit, that's all".

you don't seem to enjoy the sound of that, seeing as how you freeze at the words, only frowning once again. mark, like always, notices your change in behavior, and he instinctively carts his hand through your hair. he originally doesn't know why he does it, but you don't seem to mind, you settle into the touch even, comforted by it.

"do you?.. maybe we should go on a walk on the beach? just to clear your mind, you know.."

he continues to run his hand through your hair. mark loves your hair, it's pretty, soft, and you never really dye it, so it always looks as good as new. you consider his words, taking in a breath. "no i just— i just need water".

water, that's all you need.

mark can do that, it's not like your asking him to bring the stars to you (but mark would, he would go thousands of miles, travel galaxies to make sure you were happy), you just want water. mark stops his hair caressing, his hand moving down to yours, where he intertwines your fingers. you give a small smile as he does so, but mark doesn't see it, he's much too focused on making sure you get your water.

you stay silent, which is so strange to mark. you talk a lot, you love talking, talking mark's ear off is on the list of things you have to do during your day. "just water? that's it".

you frown when mark lets go of your hand, missing the small act of affection. "yeah" you whisper. "just water".

mark gets you exactly that, water, and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence at the kitchen counter. none of you talking. the sound of the ocean waves crashing against each other meet both your ears, but none of you say anything, just sit there with a now empty cup between you two.

"everything good now?" mark asks, he just needs to make sure, seeing you like this is so unfamiliar, it makes him overly anxious.

"yeah yeah everything is fine".

"you sure?" mark needs extra confirmation, extra reassurance from you that you're okay, he wants for you to talk to him, tell him what's going on with you, because mark is your best friend, and he has to help you with these things. "you can tell me anything, you know".

"mark" you say softly, and mark doesn't know why, but his stomach flips. the way you say his name suddenly makes his cheeks go red, eyes widen, and lips part lightly. you shouldn't be affecting him like this, but you do, because it's you, you always do this to him. "yes i'm sure, if something was going on with me, i'd tell you".

of course, because the two of are best friends, you would never hide something serious from him, you know he can always help you, he will always help you.

"alright, i'm holding you to that".

you hum at his words, picking at your nails. "you better".

"THAT GUY IS CUTE" THE WORDS MAKE MARK'S HEAD shoot up, and the moment he glances at you, that uncomfortable feeling comes to his stomach. you aren't looking at him, making mark assume that you weren't saying the words to him, but to yourself. like you meant to say them in your head but ended up muttering them out loud. mark's eyebrows immediately furrow, trying to figure out what guy you're talking about. when he looks in the direction you're looking, he notices the guy your referring to. he narrows his eyes at his figure, and while he can agree, the guy is what he would consider conventionally attractive, he has no idea why you're calling him cute in the first place. "which guy?"

you deadpan at him, lightly smacking his arm. "the guy right there mark, the one wearing the white stripes shirt".

mark blinks, rubbing the place in his arm where you hit him. he doesn't know why he feels so weird, this has never happened to him before, you talk about cute guys all the time, this shouldn't be shocking to him at all.

but for some reason, the guy is really starting to piss him off, just even staring at him is irritating mark. the guy isn't that hot, he isn't even that attractive, his hair is messy, mark thinks that's gross.

"yeah yeah, he looks okay".

"okay?" you stare at mark like he just personally offended you with that statement, and you get furrowed eyebrows as a response. "he's gorgeous! a ten out of ten guy!"

"i mean— i guess he's kinda hot?" mark says those words in that questioning tone he always uses when you show him guys you might be into, he never gets your taste in men, because they're all either crazy, or they all look they just crawled out of a ditch. call him shallow or whatever, but he can't tell why a guy like you likes guys like that, you deserve someone more.. fitting.

someone like him preferably.

when his mind whispers the thought to him, mark struggles to jump from his chair. now why would he even think that? why couldn't he suppress that thought? why does he think he could be the perfect fit for you? it's not like he likes you or anything, so why did he even conjure up that thought?

"you have a horrible taste in men" you respond, but you don't even try to look at mark (which upsets him much more than he wants to admit), your attention is focused on the quote unquote, cute guy across from you, who seems to catch your eye, because you loudly gasp, hitting mark in the arm again. "did you see that!? he looked at me!"

no mark did not see that, he was much too focused on trying to calm down his flipping stomach. he hates that he feels like this, it's always with you isn't it? you don't pick up on how uncomfortable he is, though, because you're too busy freaking out over a "cute" boy glancing over at you.

"so what? you're overreacting".

mark realizes how harsh his words must've been when he sees your face fall immediately at his irritated tone. you finally look over at him, eyebrows furrowed together, and mark feels like he just committed the worst of crimes. there's an awkward silence that spreads between you two for a moment, but if you were upset, which you clearly looked like you were, you didn't say anything, you just shook your head and let out a snicker. "okay, fuck you, i'm freaking out because a cute guy just looked at me and—"

"that same cute guy whose checking you out?"

"HES WHAT!?"

your screech is enough to make mark almost fall out of his seat, he says those words with distaste, but you don't catch his tone, fortunate for him. you begin slapping his arm like crazy, excited out of your mind over this random guy staring at you. the idea annoys mark much more than it should, because why are you focusing on him so much? he isn't even that good looking, he hates it.

"oh my god! oh my god, mark! can you believe this? i might actually have some potential for an important romantic connection this summer!"

mark raises an eyebrow at the comment. "is that all you cared about when deciding to come on vacation with me?"

you look oddly offended at the inquiry, clearly weirded out by mark's sudden change in attitude. you tilt your head, mind immediately swaying away from the guy you'd been rambling about. "no! hey what's with you?"

oh no.

"what do you mean? i'm fine".

"no, you're using that tone with me".

mark curses you for knowing him so well, he knows exactly what you're talking about, his certain tone of irritation is one you'd grown accustomed to when you were children, as mark would use it all the time when he got especially annoyed by your antics. still, he gives a chuckle of disbelief. "what is that tone?"

you pause for a moment, thinking about your words, but then you straighten in your seat, lightly scoffing. "that tone of irritation you use when your annoyed by me, what? you hate your not the only guy who has my attention?"

mark prepares another snappy response to that, but he can't do that because you lean closer as you say those words, a smug grin playing on your lips as you do so. mark allows for himself to get engrossed in the sight of you close up. he then narrows his eyes, trying his best to act like he's unaffected by your stare. "no, oh my god get over yourself!"

mark is quick to push you away, stubbornly crossing his arms as he hopes you don't notice how pathetic those words sounded. you snicker, clearly feeling victorious as you were able to get a shout out of him. mark would punch you if he wasn't so distracted by your pretty laughter.

"uh huh, sure, you dream of me".

"you're so annoying, if you think the guy's so cute just go talk to him".

mark regrets saying that.

why did i say that? why the fuck did i say that?

he doesn't want you to go talk to him, why would he even bring that up? he sees the expression on your face change, and mark immediately knows he messed up because you seem to be very on board with that idea. you look back over at the guy you'd been staring at prior, a smile coming to your face as you catch him looking back at you, watching the whole thing transpire just makes mark stomach flip uncomfortably.

"fine then, you told me to do it myself".

mark wishes he hadn't.

"good luck" he croaks out, trying his best to steady his voice as you blatantly ignore him to continue staring at the guy you're seemingly so infatuated with.

mark wants to throw up.

MARK TRULY UNDERESTIMATES HOW MUCH CAN happen in a week. life has always surprised him, strange things constantly transpire that he can't exactly explain no matter how much he tries. he also made the mistake of underestimating just how much you were into this "cute guy" (mark learned his name is kunwoo, a name he feels uneasy about), because after he stupidly told you to go over and talk to the guy you had been making eyes at, you two hit it off, a fact that made mark want to claw his own eyes out, to his very own confusion. he can't figure out why he's feeling so.. weird? it's not like he hasn't watched you hit it off with several guys during previous summer outings, or just in general, so why is it different now? it shouldn't be different now, nothing should be different.

but it is different now, for some unknown reason that mark can't think of no matter how much he tries to conjure it up in his mind, he doesn't like the guy you've now found yourself parading around. even with how into him you seem, mark can't help but gives his best tight lipped smile every time you bring him up.

mark won't tell you anything, he doesn't want to upset you, you genuinely seem so happy talking to him, who is he to tell you to not like a guy that he feels weird about? you're an adult, you can make your own decisions, he can't make you do anything you don't want to.

so what if mark has bad vibes about this guy your into? he's not going to tell you that or anything. he knows better than to spoil your fun, you deserve to have fun after your train wreck of a school year.

he doesn't want to be a bad friend.

"y/n? where are we going exactly?"

the minute the clock struck 12 (in the afternoon, mark has to clarify), you told him to get up because you were going to take him out. "out, mark, i told you this thousands of times already".

mark's eyebrows furrow, he has no idea why you would just drag him out of the beach house for no apparent reason. hand intertwined with his, merely muttering something about going out.

"so abruptly?" he inquires, your hand squeezing against his, lurching him closer towards you with a small tug.

"yes, take it as my apology for leaving you in the dust for all these days".

mark pauses at your words, they take him by surprise. it's not that he expected you to not notice he was down, you usually notice something's off before mark himself does, but he assumed you'd be so blinded by love that how he feels would be the furthest thing from your mind.

but who is mark kidding? you know him like the back of his hand. if he was upset, even if you were miles away, you'd be able to sense it. no matter how many men you attempt to court and date, none of them could really get you to forget about him.

your hand against his is soft, your tugs are nothing short of playful, and your smile is hidden, but it's there. "won't kunwoo be pissed?"

you narrow your eyes, face twisting into a puzzled expression. the look you give mark makes his stomach drop, but you don't pick up on that, because your focused on the mention of your newest boy toy. "why would he be?"

mark pauses, throat going dry as he feels your thumb grace his palm. "i don't know, he doesn't really seem to like me.."

your eyebrows furrow, then you giggle. "are you kidding? everyone likes you".

the words make mark pause, and he stares at you as if you healed all of his injuries with just your voice. maybe you couldn't see what he saw, but it was such a genuine response that he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "i mean i guess you do have a point about that.."

mark looks down at the cemented ground, and you snort, nudging him with your shoulder.

"don't think about stuff like that, i have a date tonight anyway".

a date. mark's jaw almost clenches. that's terrific! he couldn't be anymore happier for you! his eye isn't twitching because he's pissed! it's not!

"oh" he croaks, suddenly feeling the need to squeeze your hand. if you suddenly notice his heightened emotions, you don't say anything. "a date, that's nice".

"mhm" you merely hum, lips pressed together as you turn around and again begin walking with mark by your side, hand in hand.

"where are you going?"

you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "enough about the date mark, it's just us now, let's focus on that okay?"

see? this is why mark lee doesn't get you.

you can't say things like that then just expect him to be fine. you can't stare at him like he's your entire world and not except for him to think you harbor something romantic for him. you can't just do all of that and just expect for mark to be okay.

because he isn't, and it's all because of your soggy looks, your pretty voice, your pretty smile. you make mark feel things he shouldn't feel for someone whose just his 'best friend'.

he looks down at your intertwined fingers, listening to your silent humming as you swing your laced hands back and forth. "alright, i can get behind that".

you snap out of your little zoning out session, your lips turning up at the reply. "good, now make me some guesses".

"what?"

"where do you think i'm taking you?"

mark again pauses, a soft breeze rushing past you two as the crashing ocean waves sound in your ears. "to some forest to murder me?"

you scoff, you'd give another roll of the eyes if not worried for seeming like a broken record. "no, stupid, if i wanted to murder you i would've done it ages ago".

mark responds with an incredulous gasp, tone full of feigned offense. "you would murder me? your best friend in the whole entire world with no pushback?"

"i don't know, guanheng seems adamant on stealing that spot.."

mark again gasps, but this time there's a little more genuine emotion there, floored at the idea of you replacing him. "hendery? really?"

"don't say that! he's cooler than you!"

a frown tugs at mark's lips, and he nudges you much harder than he intends to. you grunt in just the slightest, childishly sticking out your tongue. "you get jealous sooooo easily".

"shut up".

and of course, you don't.

MARK CAN BARELY FALL ASLEEP THAT NIGHT KNOWING your going on a date. the look in your eye really communicated to him that you weren't about to change your mind, when you're determined, you're determined, and nothing will ever deter you. he could barely control the bile threatening to force it's way up his throat as he wished you good luck, but he found it much easier to contain his feeling of irritation when he saw your smile, your smile is so pretty, mark wanted to become kunwoo in that moment, because the idea of him being the one who got to see it for the rest of the night was just ridiculous. oh right. he had no idea how long you were going to be gone for, what if you come back and he's already asleep? what if you stayed over at his place? what if you—

never mind, he doesn't want to think about that.

when you say bye for the night, you unexpectedly step forward and wrap your arms around mark. it's not like hugs between you two are rare or anything, it was just a tad bit surprising how sudden the embrace was, but it was still special, mark almost wanted to fall asleep in your arms.

"how long are you gonna be gone for?" he asked after you pulled away, brushing your hair out of your face as you thought about it for a moment.

you shrugged, lips pressed into a thin line. "i'm not sure, but you can go to sleep without me around, can't you?"

mark's face went red at the question, he looked guilty as a charged. "yes i can, i was just wondering".

you hummed, grabbing the keys from the kitchen counter, not saying another word to him as you began whistling a tune he couldn't exactly recognize. "be safe".

you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing. "i will, mark".

"swear?"

"i swear".

mark smiled at you, taking a needed breath of relief. "okay, i love you".

those words came out of nowhere, mark still has no idea why he decided to say them, why he decided that would be the correct thing to say at the moment, but you didn't question it, simply snickered. "i love you too".

mark will forever keep that response in his dearest heart.

he tossed and turned for a while, the large window behind his bed greeting him to the harrowing sounds of the ocean. he doesn't remember how long it took for him to slip off into his slumber, but all he remembers is that he was still thinking of your smile when sleep took him away.

he must've been having an insanely good dream, because he didn't even hear the resounding whispers.

"mark".

nothing.

"mark".

mark grunts, but doesn't open his eyes. his lips part slightly as he feels a small tap land on his shoulder, he still doesn't answer though.

"melk".

he looks so into dreamland, you feel bad for trying to lift him from consciousness. he stirs, settling into the feeling of your nail dragging over his arm.

"markle" you drawl. "markie, mark".

cracking one eye open, mark finally looks at you without turning his head. "is the house on fire?" his words are sloppy, syllables all shuffled around.

"not yet, but i can keep trying if you want".

mark's mouth twitches, suppressing a smile, and you let out a sigh. "what time is it?"

"just past one".

"hm" mark rolls over with his eyes barely open, bumping into your sitting figure. he again opens his eyes, scanning you up and down. you're still in the outfit you left in, your thin sweater simply removed, eyes a noticeably red color that has his brows furrowing. "how was the date?"

you chuckle, and it's bitter enough to have mark's eyes now fully open, his body barely rising from his laying position. "fucking terrible".

mark blinks, rubbing his eyes as the exhaustion now doesn't seem to matter. "woah, what's that supposed to mean?"

you roll your eyes, somehow successfully hiding your sniffles along the way. "the guys i'm into always turn out to be such.. bastards".

mark is going to kill kunwoo.

"what did he do?"

"nothing, that's the problem" you reply, but then you laugh again. what exactly do you laugh at? your circumstances? your situation? the fact that you hate everything?

mark pauses, letting his exhaustion fester elsewhere as he sits up. "y/n.."

"i don't know, i guess i shouldn't have expected much from some cute guy i met while on vacation" you humor yourself with those words, snickering at the look you receive from mark. "don't look at me like that, i'm okay".

"your eyes are red" mark snaps his head towards you, almost pointing at your face with his finger.

a frown tugs at your lips. of course he noticed that, you were hoping he wouldn't bring it up. "it's fine, i'm alright".

you give your best smile, and though it would usually make mark smile, his face instead drops at the display. "don't say that, please give me a real smile".

the reply gets a small laugh out of you, which also gets a genuine smile out of you. a few giggles slip from your lips at the words, which, in turn, make mark's lips turn up. "okay okay, you got me".

oh mark loves seeing you smile.

mark hums, reaching his hand over to tuck your hair behind your ear. "you have a pretty smile".

you pause, lips threatening to turn up again at the words. it's not like mark doesn't say this all the time, he always compliments your smile, it just feels.. different now. you snort. "says you".

"let me compliment you".

"you do that all the time already".

the two of you slip into silence, mark's fingers still busying themselves in your hair. you stare, and he stares back. his eyes glance everywhere, you've always been pretty up close, your features are striking, mark could stare at your face for hours, ticking off each of your little facial features in pure admiration.

the tension in the air could be cut with a knife, but you two stay silent, as if in a competition to see who'll break and speak first.

then, in an uncharacteristic move, you speak up.

"what do you want to do mark?"

"hm?" he glances down at your lips before his eyes quickly snap back up to stare into yours. he guesses that you're intently watching the movement of his eyes, something that mark probably would've noticed himself if it was you doing it.

"you want to do something".

mark sucks his teeth. "i want to kiss you".

the words fall from his lips much too quickly, and mark almost feels like a robot saying them, but he couldn't contain his honesty anymore. you raise an eyebrow, cheeks dusted red. "do you?"

your smiling again, and mark can't decipher what might be going through your head. he nods, suddenly rendered speechless. "..yeah, so much" his voice almost trails off into a whine, god how pathetic is that?

you hum, shoulders slumping. "what's stopping you?"

mark's mouth feels bitter, and his tooth sinks into his bottom lip. "kunwoo".

you snort, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to mark, your hand graces his arm, and mark is quick to relax into the touch. "you shouldn't care about that".

your whisper festers into the air, and mark simply watches the movement of your lips.

then mark leans in, fulfilling his newfound itch of the night. he feels you smile against his lips, his hand moving up into your hair. he lets out a small sigh of relief, a sigh that makes you chuckle.

maybe mark had originally wanted to start slow, but then a switch seemed to have flipped. his fingers tangled in your hair, he can't get over how your lips feel. they're soft, plush, his frenzied presses driven by his pure eagerness, want, desire.

how did it take him this long? how couldn't he realize this is what he wanted the entire time?

you two break apart to breath, but it's only a few seconds before mark leans forward again to chase after yet another taste. his aggressiveness makes you go down, your back softly hitting his mattress as he crawls on top of you, a small giggle leaving your lips at his enthusiasm.

you scale your hand up his arm and under his shirt, drawing shapes into his shoulder as the tiniest hint of a whimper leaves your lips. his hands were still messing with your hair, maybe that's one of his favorite hobbies.

you chuckle again, bringing your hand up to hold his jaw, and you keep your hand there when you finally pull him off you. "oh, how long have you wanted to do that?"

mark can barely control his bated breaths, cheeks a rosy red and lips kissed the same color. "like forever— fuck i can't.. i can't believe i actually got to do that".

you hum, thumb caressing the underside of his jaw. "ah, you were thinking about it".

mark's words get stuck in his throat, and his blatantly red face must be embarrassing. he stares at you as if your the only person in the world, splayed under him in all your gorgeous glory. yes, he did think about this, it got to a little bit of an unhealthy rate. "i thought about way more than just kissing.."

"woah, slow your roll there, lee, what are you implying with that?"

mark stares down at you, cheeks red, hair messy as you begin humming. it makes no fucking sense. you look pretty doing everything, and he rolls his eyes. he responds to you with yet another kiss, except there's less of that prior aggression and more of gentleness.

mark tugs at your bottom lip, your hands slipping down towards his hips, keeping him in his place. he gives a slight squeak of response, obviously not expecting that.

"you gonna tell me what you were implying?"

"can't i just show you?"

"ooooo" you can't contain your snicker, your best friend is sort of pinning you down on his bed, the crashing ocean waves make a red color spread across your face. "i see, look at you being bold".

mark merely hums, diving down to begin sucking bruises into your neck. "you need to be quiet".

"and what are you gonna do if i don't? hm?"

mark sends you a look, the kind of look you expect to see in situations like this. "i won't tell you, i'll show you".

"you're doing much more telling than showing right now".

mark glares. "brat".

"you love it".

mark eyes the bruises he sucked into your skin, purple blemishes that stand out against your empty neck. "you're so pretty.. so pretty".

you are also about to lose your sanity if he doesn't do anything more, you're quite literally about to snap his neck if he doesn't just fucking do it. "as you say all the time.."

mark clicks his tongue, finger ghosting your collarbone. "it's deserved".

mark is going to make sure you hear everything he had to say tonight, he's going to show his appreciation for you through and through, he'll get his point across through any means.

maybe he'll figure out his feelings in the process, too.

"YOU KNOW, YOU KIND OF REMIND ME OF DONGHYUCK.." THE moment mark utters those words, you snap your head towards him, eyes narrowed and lips parted. he takes your reaction as a bad one, your judging look washing a weird sense of fear onto him. you can be strangely scary at times, and the look mark receives just strikes the weirdest amount of fear in him. "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you ask, a hint of offense in your tone. you are clueless as to what he could possibly mean by that, and mark realizes those words seem pretty vague in hindsight. he stares at you, your messy hair, the same pajamas he changed you into after you two had finished your.. activity. you look adorable, mark can't help but giggle as he observes you, and you scrunch your nose at his actions.

"you two are kinda the same, like twins".

"twins?"

"yeah, you're both insanely annoying" mark says, walking past you and ignoring the other look you share with him. "and besides, you two are both my best friends, your bound to have some similarities, you guys even share some moles in the same place".

you trail behind mark, lips turning downward. "so you just.. usually make out with your best friends?" you ask, hands naturally trailing down towards his hips.

mark turns around just fast enough to meet your eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter as your hands stay steady on his hips. he hums, staring at your lips. "no, it's just you".

"oh? am i the exception?"

"mhm" mark sees the way your eyes seemingly light up at the words, a small squeeze to his hips. you get giddy so easily, he has to resist the urge to giggle. "it's only you i have my eyes on".

your cheeks flare up, and you chuckle as you look down. you really like the sound of that. when you look back up, mark is quick to press his lips to yours. you squeak out of surprise, but your quick to melt into his touch.

mark's newfound obsession is kissing you, your lips are always so fucking soft. how much chapstick do you use? or are they just naturally like that? he'll have to kiss you more to find out (that's his new excuse).

"you're so enthusiastic, where was this energy when i flirted with you before?"

"that was different".

"was it?" you lean away when mark goes back in for another kiss, smiling at the way his face drops. he scrunches his nose, tongue poking against his inner cheek. "how different was it?"

mark sucks his teeth, hand coming up to the back of your neck to pull you closer. "see? you are annoying".

"you didn't answer my question~"

"can't i just kiss you as my answer?" he breathes against your lips, unsuccessfully fighting a smile.

you pretend to think about it, tilting your head to sell your bit. "you just want to kiss me more".

"is that so bad?"

you stare down your best friend, but then you sigh, you can't resist him. "no".

and that's all mark needs. he pulls you back down towards him, sighing in contentment as he feels the soft plush of your lips against his. you lose your composure rather quickly, pulling mark as close as he could get, as if you'd die if you weren't touching every single part of him.

small (but intelligible) whimpers spill from your lips, sounds that have mark wanting to giggle and kick his feet in joy. he is doing that to you? oh he feels so proud of himself.

mark lee might just be addicted to kissing you.

"okay okay enough, your kiss amount is up".

"what? hey!"

your hand slips from his, and mark blinks, absolutely dumbfounded. you smile, expression full of cheek as you watch mark's drop. "since when did we have kiss amounts?"

"since about two seconds ago!" you yell as you make your way over to your room, mark for being from where you left him desolate at the kitchen counter. "you lose control too quickly".

"as if you don't like that.."

mark crosses his arms over his chest, following you to your room to give you a piece of his mind. "but i love kissing you dude!"

you give a weird look. "you can't call me dude after we just made out!"

mark scoffs. "what do you want me to call you then? baby?"

you pause, a bright red color spreading across your cheeks. you also like the sound of that. for some reason, it feels so right. you can already hear the word 'baby' fresh on mark's lips, and in reference to you to?

it sounds pretty cute.

"yeah no i think i prefer dude.."

you don't notice how mark's face drops at those words, he knows they're feigned, but the fact that you felt the need to lie just makes his stomach hurt. that's nice y/n, that's fine, i can totally get behind that, my feelings for you aren't complicated at all!

mark hates his thoughts.

but he doesn't disclose any of them, he gives a fake smile and forces out a strained chuckle. "fine, dude, don't get mad with me again though".

you can't even fight your smile anymore, because it comes to full force when you face mark, who is busy staring at the marks he sucked into your neck. maybe those are too obvious, you'd have trouble trying to cover them.

you snap your fingers in front of mark's face. "hey, you alright?"

mark blinks, locking eyes with you. he thinks he's dreaming, did you two really get to this point? mark assumed he'd wallow in his own jealousy forever, never getting the opportunity to really feel these things around you. "yeah, sorry.."

"mhm" you press your lips into a thin line, and mark steps closer to bury his face into your shoulder, an action of affection that is now regular for you two. "no need to apologize, what's going on in your head?"

mark doesn't answer that, simply lets out a deep breath. "don't wanna talk about it".

"that's fine" you whisper, you can wait until he's ready to talk about it.

MARK'S EYES PRACTICALLY BURN BY THE TIME he can finally see again. he almost inhales a gallon of ocean water, he can still taste the salt of it on his tongue. how you managed to convince him to get into the ocean with all of his clothes still on? he has absolutely no idea, but it had no right being so fun as it was. he wipes his face as best he can with his hands, and he hears your titular laugh sounding close by, so loud that not even the rushing ocean water can keep it silent. he shivers, jumping when he feels your wet hand grace his shoulder. "i'm never doing that with you ever again" he scolds, unable to sound serious with the way his lips refuse to turn down. you giggle, quickly grabbing a towel for you two to share, wrapping it around both you and mark as you sit on the other towel you brought to the beach. "i'm sure i could convince you easily enough if i tried" you reply, resting your head onto mark's shoulder.

"that's only because i let you get away with things" mark responds, pressing closer to you, as close as he can get with the lack of space already between the two of you. you let out a sigh of contentment, feeling good in the current place you are.

it's always been comfortable like that with mark.

"keep telling yourself that".

"it's true" mark bites back, and you hum as you again let out a sigh. "you only get a pass because you're my best friend" he drags his finger down your arm, smiling as you relax into the touch.

"aww, is it not because i'm so cute?" your lips turn downward into a pout, and you lean into mark as you feign sadness at his previous words.

"nope" mark pushes you back with only his pointer finger, and you chuckle against his touch once again.

the beach wasn't your original destination, but it's much too difficult to avoid the beach, and by proxy, the ocean. mark didn't really want to swim, because you two weren't planning on going to the beach, but you were somehow able to convince him to get into the water, he has no idea how you even got that to happen, but you did, your striking smile is much too difficult to ignore.

you two spent so much time just messing around, acting like the idiots you were supposed to be when you originally decided to go on vacation together. yeah all the drinking, seagull chasing, and cooking attempts were fun, but just being idiots on beach? this is what going on vacation is about.

you couldn't have stifled so many of your giggles today, and mark, mark just made it so much better. you feel so much around mark, you don't know how you hid such feelings for so long. "you really are something.."

mark blinks, admiring your smile, he's cut off by a sudden rush of wind, which sends a shiver down both your spines. you snicker, grabbing his hand. "let's go back, yeah? it's getting cold now".

mark nods, wrapping his arm around your waist as you wrap your arm around his, the two of you laughing as you trip over your feet to make your way back to the beach house. "tomorrow, we need to check out that ice cream parlor".

mark gives you a look. "the one with the.. what is it? fucking amazing waffle cones?" he inquires, recalling jungwoo's words when he was telling you two about the place awhile ago.

you snort. "that one, yes".

mark simply gives a small smile, you think he looks especially cute with his wet hair. blue was really the move, you love it.

"you gonna pay?"

"woah! why do i have to pay?"

mark nudges you, almost rolling his eyes. "you made me deal with kunwoo for a whole week, that man did not like me".

"that's ridiculous".

the other look you receive from mark is full of the incredulity you except, mark looks at you as if you just punched him in the gut and spat on him as he doubled over. "ridiculous? you should've seen the way he stared at me, you would've thought i robbed his mom or something".

"it's ridiculous how he didn't like you".

mark scoffs, a cold shiver running down his spine as he thinks of his next response. "think it was pretty obvious why.."

it's a simple mutter, but you know what he means by those words. you hum, getting out the keys and unlocking the door, mark feels a sense of déjà vu as he lets you take him in, letting him rest half his body weight onto you.

you suck your teeth as you hear mark yawn. "don't get so sleepy, we still have to dry our hair".

mark hums, looking up at you.

and mark can't exactly grasp why it's so romantic. why the giggles are full of much more love, why the acts of affection mean so much more, why he doesn't want all the lingering touches to stop. he rolls his eyes at your complaints when he cleans the sand out of your hair, and he smiles softly at the sight.

you look mesmerized by everything mark does, your eyes tracking him and every single action he performed like he was the single most important being to ever grace the earth. your eyes held a love you had never once showcased for another human being before. it couldn't just be platonic.

you practically stay glued to his side the whole time, an act that isn't as surprising to mark, it's kind of your whole thing to become super affectionate so randomly. he just likes it more this time, maybe it's the way you fingers grace his waist that make him feel safer.

you giggle when mark changes into those cute pink pajamas you usually never see him wear, but he only gives you a dirty look, one which makes you stop talking in fear of pissing him off.

and that is how you end up here, listening to mark's heartbeat as he runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes closed, but him not yet being asleep. sharing beds have never been unusual to you two, it's just.. different now.

"i can still taste the ocean water, dude".

you chuckle, feeling the rise and fall of mark's chest. you are so comfortable here, a sense of warmth easily envelopes you with mark. nothing could ever compare to how you feel around him. "maybe you shouldn't have done that dive then, dude".

mark narrows his eyes at you, taking in the tone of sarcasm in your words. you lift from your place on mark's chest, leaning your elbow onto the bed, and your head against your hand. you use your free hand to take mark's and intertwine it with yours. you stare at him from your place above him, lips turning up by just staring at his face.

"you are so fucking cute".

mark rolls his eyes, a small smile showing on his face. "are you really saying that? look at you".

"don't try to flatter me".

"dude, have you met yourself?"

"don't call me dude, dude" you argue, eyes shining with feigned rage when you hear a correspondent giggle from mark.

"you said you prefer dude!"

"okay well— i lied! don't call me dude, you call random men on the sidewalk dude, not me".

"what do you want me to call you then?"

god you're frustrating.

"anything but dude".

mark sighs, watching the way your cheeks dust red at just having to disclose this information to mark with pure honesty. he stares at your intertwined fingers, leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto your knuckles. the act is much too simple, but it leaves a lasting impression.

"i hate you".

"okay dude".

you snap a glare in mark's direction, but you also can't hide your budding smile. he's just so hard to be mad at, he shouldn't be allowed to harbor such beauty while simply lying down. "fuck you".

"i'm sure you want to" mark teases, leaning his head against the pillow, his hair falling down prettily behind him.

you choose to not answer that, instead letting go of mark's hand to grab his jaw and pull him in. your first time being the one to initiate, and it's just as messy as mark expected for it to be.

you can taste the remains of mint toothpaste on mark's tongue, and there's a certain frenzy that puts you on, your hand sliding down to the middle of mark's chest, again feeling the beating of his heart. you allow for your hand to journey under his shirt, exploring the warmth of his bare skin.

"slow that hand down dude.."

"if you fucking call me that again—" you grit your teeth, an empty threat dancing on your tongue. mark doesn't try to move your hand, just lets you do your thing.

mark stares up at you, waiting for the eventual threat, but it doesn't come, that's strange for you. he smirks, and you glare as you catch it. "come on y/n, threaten me".

you suck your teeth, instead pulling a mark by shutting him up with a kiss. it's again messy, a clash of the teeth and a mini fight in between all the chaos.

give me your best shot, mark says, tugging your bottom lip to truly sell his words. of course you bite, not hard enough to draw blood, mark finds it funny how you hold back during this moment out of every other one.

your hand again ventures, seemingly having a mind of it's own. you fiddle with the buttons of his pajama shirt, caressing the soft fabric between your fingers. when you pull away for breath, you simply stare, an indecisive look in your eyes.

"can i?" you ask, simply dragging your finger across what's exposed of his neck.

mark presses his lips together, staring at you as if ppl you're the only person in the world. he then gives you a lazy smile, a hand carting through your hair. "you're sacrificing sleep for sex?"

you snicker. "but it's good sex".

"and how are you so sure?"

"just let me prove it to you" you sing, tapping a finger onto his cheek. "and besides, we could always sleep in.." mark closes his eyes, humming as he feels your other hand press onto his chest, it's such a strange feeling, but it's foreign in a nice way.

"what about the ice cream?" mark's question is breathy, but he still finds a way to give you that tormenting smile. how annoying.

"you can't possibly be thinking about ice cream while i'm on top of you in your bed right now" you quickly counter, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"i like ice cream, though".

"and me?"

mark opens his eyes, smile lazy and expression soft. "maybe you're just a little better than ice cream".

"a little?"

mark decides not to answer that one. "knock yourself out".

you roll your eyes at how he decided to grant you permission, but you chuckle anyway. "might knock you out after were done.."

"i'm looking forward to it".

you swear your going to wipe that smile off mark's face (that's a lie, you actually really enjoy seeing it).

"THE AMOUNT OF SPRINKLES ON THAT SHOULD BE illegal" the remark makes you choke around the tiny plastic spoon you tried to chuckle into. you purposefully bite down on the sprinkles to piss him off, lips turning up as you catch his eye twitch. it's so easy to rile him up, annoying him really is one of your best qualities. "how do not like sprinkles?" you ask, looking at him incredulously. mark takes a huge bite of the waffle cone in his hand, ignoring your question and instead replying with an interested hum. "these are fucking amazing waffle cones.." he mutters, and you scoff, shoving his shoulder. he gives a satisfied giggle at your irritation, your face dropping immediately when you see how joyful he seems. "what?" he asks, feigning idiocy as you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes. he can't even stifle his laughter anymore, barely containing his chuckles behind his hand.

"i fucking hate you".

mark seems pleased by your annoyance, grimacing as you eat yet another scoop of those sprinkles. "okay you sprinkle enjoyer, they're too sweet anyway".

"but i like sweet things".

"yeah cause you're basically a toddler" your lips turn down at the words, and mark runs a hand through your hair, suddenly very interested in the soft strands. "don't get mad, i'm just saying".

you scoff, looking down at your chocolate ice cream, your sprinkles are running out anyway. "i am mad, and i'm going to go get more sprinkles" you grumble, but your smiling as you walk off to go ask the person at the counter if you can add more sprinkles to your ice cream.

mark again laughs when he remembers the sight of your irritated face, you always look so cute when you're mad. he can practically hear the scowls from you when you realize he's been laughing.

he just can't help it.

"oh, you".

mark glances up, letting go of his spoon and letting out a strained chuckle. the one person he did not want to see. fucking kunwoo of all people.

"hi" mark tries his best to be civil, but all kunwoo does is scoff.

"cut the bullshit, what? do you think you can just influence y/n's actions now?"

mark scoffs, so much for being civil, all he wants to do is get more waffle cones, but of course someone has to ruin his fucking day, and of course it has to be the guy he was wrongly jealous of. "i have no idea what you're talking about".

"y/n isn't texting me back, and i know you have something to do with it".

mark almost rolls his eyes. "i don't influence y/n's decisions, if he isn't talking to you, than he's probably doing it on his own accord".

kunwoo laughs. what's so funny? mark inquires in his head, his ice cream is beginning to melt. "do you really expect me to believe that? you've always been such a jealous prick—"

"see? told you i got more sprinkles" you pause when your eyes gaze upon the scene before you. "oh! hi.. kunwoo" you grit your teeth, eye twitching in the slightest, mark almost laughs at the sight.

"oh you've gotta be kidding me, you two? give me a fucking break".

"oh please, don't start".

"i will, actually! you never seem to stop y/n, how long until you go off to the next guy—"

"you can't just say that.." you place a hand on mark's shoulder, making him go quiet.

"are you still angry with me for yelling at you?" you question, tone suddenly growing much more irritated. "sorry i don't enjoy when people try to force themselves onto me".

kunwoo scoffs, and mark has to bite his tongue, he might say something he isn't proud of. "for the last time, it was a joke, he always acts like that—"

"well then maybe you can see why i don't want to talk to you!"

mark sighs, clearing his throat. "anyway, i don't exactly appreciate the company of someone like you.. and my ice cream is now melting, maybe sort things out with your.. friend first".

and then mark is being dragged back into the ice cream parlor, his hand being tugged by yours. you sigh as you make it inside, peaking to make sure kunwoo didn't follow you in. "bastard".

mark blinks, noticing the way your shoulders slump. "y/n.. are you okay?"

you suck your teeth, immediately displaying a fake smile. "of course i am, kunwoo just sucks, he doesn't deserve my time".

mark scoffs. "if you really think i'm gonna believe that, you must be crazy".

you knew mark wouldn't believe that in the slightest. you drop your smile and simply hum, taking in a deep breath. "i just don't want to think about what he said, it'll take away too much of my attention and then i'm gonna start taking it personally which will never get us anywhere!"

mark is about to open his mouth again, but you cut him off. "can we get more ice cream now? ours has become like.. liquid by now".

"get as much as you please" mark shrugs. "i don't really want anymore".

you glance at him, narrowing your eyes. "come on, get as much as you want, i'm paying!"

mark can barely stop his lips from turning up, the interaction with kunwoo is still rubbing him the wrong way, but he guesses he can let it go for now. "your sprinkles look sad, good for them".

the comment gets a flurry of giggles out of you, you get nothing but absolute amusement from those words. "what is it with you and sprinkles? why do you hate them?"

"they're too sweet".

"oh, so you hate me?" you rebut, scooping chocolate ice cream into your cup and laughing at something in your head. "sprinkles are my pride and joy".

"i'm not your pride and joy?"

"you don't compare to sprinkles".

mark gasps, sticking his tongue out at you. now he's the one that's irritated, how funny. "i can't believe i'm losing to sprinkles, i feel insulted".

"it's the truth, sorry".

mark frowns, you know he isn't genuinely offended by that, because he keeps fighting his life whenever he glances over at you. "see? i hate sprinkles".

you lick your spoon again, nudging mark with your shoulder. "stop pouting, can you forgive me?"

you gently take his jaw and turn him towards you, a red color spread across mark's cheeks as he stares you in the eye. he avoids your gaze, cheeks still dusted red. "i guess so.."

you smile.

"just don't compare me to sprinkles again, i mean much more than they do".

"okay mark, i'll make sure not to do that next time".

and maybe mark smiles much too widely at that.

MARK REALLY LOST TRACK OF TIME AFTER YOUR GUYS' first kiss, because he feels like he blinked and it's suddenly his birthday. the best thing about summer birthdays is that he can party to his heart's content, drink till he passes out and wakes up with a terrible hangover. sometimes he forgets birthdays exist, because it feels like his birthday takes ages to come around with the amount of stuff he's busy doing during the school year. you neglected to mention what you'd be doing for his birthday, but you usually do that every year, you love to simply announce surprises out of the blue, you do that with all of your friends. mark has always thought he's good at reading you, but reading you as the second of august steadily approaches has become much more difficult.

mark already knew everyone was coming, he had mentioned it in passing way before you two decided to go on vacation, but he still finds himself startled when the doorbell rings and there are two giants standing on the doorstep (jaehyun's look of offense at being called 'giant' really brightened his mood).

"y/nie!" jungwoo surges through the front door and practically lifted you from the floor when he wrapped you in a tightening hug. "oh i thought mark would've killed you by now".

"trust me i tried".

your face falls at the words from mark, jungwoo attacking your cheeks with kisses. "he loves me too much to actually kill me".

"why are you lying?"

"he's probably telling the truth! knowing you anyway.."

mark's jaw drops, it's always donghyuck going after him isn't it? he crosses his arms, grimacing. "you can't insult me, it's my birthday".

"it's not insulting if it's true!"

mark again frowns, but then he snaps his fingers as soon as you're released from jungwoo's grip and stumble towards donghyuck. "johnny, dude, don't they look like twins?"

johnny blinks, narrowing his eyes. "woah! no they kinda do!"

"see!?"

jaehyun tilts his head. "i see two donghyuck's.."

you and donghyuck exchange glances, both displaying the same emotions on your face. "i do not like this comparison, hyuck is not that great—"

"hey fuck you!"

"no fuck you actually! how do you think i'm anything like him—"

"okay okay, calm down" mark steps in between you two, but his touches linger on you more than they do on donghyuck. "not on my birthday, please".

you don't say anything more, simply snicker and look away from mark. donghyuck stares at you two strangely, but he doesn't comment on what he sees. "i'm going to be singing for you, though!"

"oh god not again".

you snort, and donghyuck frowns. "i will pierce your eardrums—"

"okay! let's not threaten anyone! mark is twenty four! let us celebrate!"

mark couldn't have heard too many piercing shouts that day, which quickly turned into night. by the time the clock strikes eight, jaehyun is passed out on the couch, but mark can't figure out if it was the alcohol or simply the exhaustion from being endlessly dragged around by everyone.

where the fuck did all the booze come from? mark has no idea, but he can't push down the sudden anxiety he feels. it's nice to be around everyone again, though he would never admit it, he missed renjun and donghyuck's annoying fights, missed jungwoo's drunk escapades, missed the annoying complaints from yangyang, yes he missed his friends.

but mark suddenly has a realization when he doesn't see you around. that's strange. you should be on your fifth cup of shitty alcohol by now. it isn't time for presents yet, but he still misses your presence anyway.

it's hard to not miss the person you've been spending pretty much all of the past month with.

"xiaojun, have you seen y/n?"

dejun blinks, patting yangyang's back, the younger sobs about something mark can't exactly get. "uh.. no, sorry".

mark smiles. "it's fine i.. whatever thanks".

"you really haven't told him yet?" dejun raises an eyebrow, and mark immediately gets what he means, face going bright red.

"i'm working on it okay? i just.. you know what, thank you dejun".

dejun giggles, simply muttering a small 'your welcome' and waving his hand forward.

mark sucks his teeth, he avoided drinking in case no one sober was left, but the only thing he's focused on is making sure you're alive. you're much too impulsive, maybe you'll fall off the roof or something without anyone knowing, or maybe a bunch of aliens are going to come abduct you and no one will be there to witness it.

mark drags his feet everywhere, trying to catch sight of you, but you seemed to have disappeared. he almost calls out your name, but he stops himself in fear of sounding like an idiot drowned in desperation.

"there you are" make startles, but relaxes the moment he catches sight of you. your eyes light up when you see mark, and you extend your hand forward, offering it for mark to take. he sighs in relief, intertwining it with yours.

"you aren't drunk".

you chuckle, caressing the soft of his skin. "is that surprising to you?"

"..kinda".

you roll your eyes. "okay fuck you, i just don't feel like it today".

mark stares at you for a moment, then tightens his grip on your hands and tugs you forward, taking you away from the loud music of the hallway. "woah, where are we going?"

"somewhere.."

you don't get the meaning of that, which makes your nose scrunch. "slow down, do you not want to be around other people?"

"we just.. can we talk?"

mark leads you outside, anxiously picking at his own skin as he awaits your response. he doesn't turn around to see your smile, but you give him a squeeze of the hand. "of course, that's what i'm here for".

you don't often go on the balcony, because you two spent so much of your vacation out doing random things, but it's a good place for privacy when the rest of the house has everyone else in it.

"you know.. um— i'm confused, on what we are? i don't want to just be.. i don't know your kiss buddy? i want to be more than that and i know you sometimes dislike labels but i've literally been in love with you like— forever and oh my god it pains me to think about it because then i think you don't feel the same way so i.. overthink everything".

you blink, and mark covers his face with his hands to avoid your eyes. you laugh, looking down at the rushing ocean, it appears beautiful from this view. "hey, look at me please".

mark groans. "don't say please".

"mark".

mark doesn't fully remove his hands from his face, but he lowers his hands in order to see you. "what makes you think i don't feel the same way?"

mark sighs. "i know you".

you nudge him, that same pretty smile tugging at your lips. "not well enough, i thought it was obvious?"

mark bites into his inner cheek, he feels just a bit stupid right now. "i don't really get how you think these days".

you look down at where your hands stay laced together, and you abruptly tug him forward, eliciting a yelp from mark. "i'm just as in love with you as you are with me".

"tell me you're not joking".

"mark".

"sorry" he's quick to squeak. "i'm just trying to grasp this situation but i really can't because.."

mark pauses, letting out a well needed breath. "because?"

"you love me too" mark whispers, as if he couldn't believe such a thing could be possible. you laugh, so amused that you'd probably fall over from how hard you were laughing.

"mark, was that confession last week not an indication?"

"well some people just randomly do that during sex i didn't really think about it like that! i just thought you were being.. you".

you roll your eyes. "my god i love you".

mark pauses, those words striking him in a way only your words can. "say it again".

your lips turn up, tease on the tip of your tongue, but you giggle softly and take his other hand in yours. you lean closer, eyes laser focusing on the curves of mark's own. "i love you, mark, so much".

mark is about to jump off the balcony in pure joy. "you should kiss me".

you feign confusion, tilting your head. "should i?"

"yeah, it's my birthday, don't withhold something like this from me".

you hum, rolling your eyes at the words. how funny, you guessed he was going to say that. you feel his hands squeeze against yours, and you simply snicker. mark can't stare at you without exponentially heating up, but you don't say anything, just sigh.

mark lets go of one of your hands to gently take your jaw and press his lips to yours. your lips are always so soft, and they still taste like cherries. mark isn't the biggest fan of cherries, but he can't get over the taste when it's on your lips.

"you're lips are always so soft" mark chuckles against you. "you stack up on chapstick?"

"no mark i literally apply it regularly".

mark snorts.

"hey, ask me".

"what?"

"ask me out, stupid".

mark rolls his eyes. "will you be my boyfriend, y/n?"

you pretend to think about it, whistling as your thoughts run in circles around your brain. "sure, i guess!"

mark punches you in the shoulder, making you squeak and jump back, avoiding his touch. "you guess? i'm breaking up with you".

"we've been dating for two seconds! take me back, please!" you wrap your arms around mark and rest your head against his back, lips turned downward in feigned sadness.

mark can't even stifle his laughs anymore. "fine, but only because it's you".

you giggle in joy, taking mark's hands and turning him around. "it's probably time for gifts now, come on, before jungwoo starts thinking the worst".

"the worst?"

"he probably thinks we're fucking up here or something".

mark scrunches his nose, not even making a noise when you lurch him forward with a tug of his hand. "how would that be bad?"

"he'd probably like.. scream and then make a big show out of it".

mark stares at you incredulously, and you stop to ruffle his hair. "you're going to like my gift the best".

"oh? how are you so sure about that?"

"i know you".

mark doesn't respond to that one, because he can't deny the fact that you do.

THE FINAL DAYS OF AUGUST STEADILY APPROACH, AND with that also comes the end of your summer vacation. mark's birthday was as enjoyable as it was magical, maybe birthday love confessions are tacky to some people, but mark giggled over it for so long that by the time he stopped giggling over it, almost three weeks had passed. the weeks after mark's birthday were filled with idiotic love adventures that you can only describe as purely out of this world. kissing in the ocean is one thing, and drunkenly sobbing over stray cats is most definitely another. mark writes infinitely obscure sentences into that journal of his, and the bed sharing becomes much more regular. it only started growing normal after sex started growing a little normal, you two couldn't even make excuses for falling asleep in each other's arms anymore.

you two don't even really sleep most nights though, you spend them walking the beach and daring each other to jump into the ocean, knowing full well it's too cold to be doing that.

there isn't much of a change, even with the boyfriend titles being bestowed upon you two. you still go on dates, attempt to cook (mark really needs to work on that), belt exo songs at midnight, and dance in the living room.

wine nights and journaling make themselves regular guests in your daily routine, paired with you chiding mark to take care of himself. the romantic connotations may have been hidden before, but they're bright as day now with how unashamedly mark stares at your lips while you literally do anything.

the pure domesticity of the whole thing makes you feel warm, mark relays his true thoughts to you in the cool whispers of the night, you remind him it's important to talk about how he feels, and you always manage to coax him into it with tickles to his stomach, practically making him die with laughter so he gives into your incessant demands.

it gets to the point where you almost run out of things to do, spending every waking moment together just makes the act of leaning against each other enough to pass time. you don't even have to talk to have a good time with mark, just being around him is fine.

the door to your room swings open, and mark steps in, falling directly on top of you, no words said. you sigh, turning off your phone. "well hello to you too, baby".

mark almost freezes, he doesn't know how long it'll take for him to get used to being called that, but he really likes the sound of it. "y/n.."

"yes?" mark rests his head onto your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, smiling as he feels your hand beginning to go up and down his back, the ministrations bringing him a feeling of solace.

"my mom called" he begins, his words merely a low mutter. "i told her about us and.. well, i was thinking we could go to vancouver this coming winter break?"

you snicker. "you planned ahead?"

"i always plan ahead, and besides, my mom misses you! you aren't about to deny an opportunity to see my mom are you?"

you roll your eyes. "no mark, i love your mom she's an angel, i'm just a bit surprised".

mark takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "it'll be a good trip, like.. the nostalgia and stuff? that's where we met!"

he's so excited about it, his pure giddiness makes a smile form on your lips. "i love the idea of that, mark, and i also miss your mom too".

mark narrows his eyes. "okay well now you're steering off track".

"seeing your mom is like a plus one! what do you mean steering off track?"

mark frowns, rolling off you and landing right beside you on your mattress, a small thumb accompanying his movement. the faint sound of the ocean rushing begs a smile out of you. "can't believe summer vacation is over, i've become attached to this place".

mark slings an arm over your waist, and he tucks his face into your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin. "you like living by the beach?"

"yes! i'll miss my stupid room with the huge window in front of the water!"

you snort. "you baby".

mark turns over, resting his arms onto your chest and staring down at you, biting his bottom lip. "you look so.. easy like this".

"is that how you tell me you want a kiss?"

mark presses his lips together. more or less is his silent answer, and he leans forward to capture your lips, fingers caressing the skin of your collarbone. "no more kissing while swimming, huh?"

"we could always just hijack chenle's pool".

mark stares at you, and then you both burst into laughter. "chenle would never!"

"it's funny to think about, though".

mark clicks his tongue, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth. he's never going to get tired of this, it's insane how addicting your lips are, they fit perfectly with his, as if you two were molded for each other.

there's only a few seconds of pulling away for air before he's on you again, and your hand slides up his shirt, feeling the bare skin of his side. he gives a breathy chuckle against your lips, as if amused, but he's gotten used to your tricks by now.

"you are so unbelievable" he remarks, nipping at your jaw then slowly starting down your neck, taking the skin between his teeth and giggling as he feels you suddenly grip his hip.

you scrunch your nose, successfully hiding your whimpers by holding in your breaths instead. "mark, we have to go watch the sunset".

your voice is raspy, wrecked from the assault on your neck. you feel mark's lips turn up on your skin, his resounding chuckle sending vibrations through your body. "you just remembered that.."

"yep".

mark frowns, pretending to think it over. "sunset doesn't matter right now".

you feign shock at the words, widening your eyes. "so you're just disregarding our evening plans now?" you inquire, hissing when he again latches himself onto your neck, god he really does like doing that.

"this is better, trust me" he whispers, and you close your eyes, a small sigh escaping your lips as you bask in the feelings mark gives you.

"you totally sound untrustworthy when you say that".

mark again laughs, his nail scratching at your thin shirt. "just.. let me do this for you, okay?"

you pause, finally shrugging as mark smiles, it's just a little addicting, his smile. he then leans down and kisses you again, unable to contain his excitement when he got yet another taste of that cherry chapstick.

ocean waves crash against each other faintly outside your window, but all you can think about are mark's lips on yours.

#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee drabbles #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #mark lee x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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softspaceboibrian · 2 years ago

Text

The Heart Wants What It Wants || Jamie Tartt

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Y/N where Y/N works at AFC Richmond || I used she/her pronouns, but there is no actual physical description, so the pronouns can be switched with whatever anyone wants or prefers!

Characters: Jamie Tartt; Keeley Jones and Rebecca Welton (Y/N's best friends); Sam Obisanya, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Dani Rojas (Jamie's support team); Roy (being his usual grumpy self).

Summary: when Y/N goes into Rebecca's office to have her usual morning chat with her best friends, she doesn't expect it to result in a very messy confession from her crush.

Warnings: bad language, like a lot. slight sexual harassment. Roy being harsh with Jamie. Jamie being all over the place with his feelings. fluff, a lot of pining and crushing. just bad writing, really.

WC: 8355 (it's kinda long, I know... but I didn't know where to stop! sorry!)

A/N: This is my first time writing for JAmie or any Ted Lasso character in general. I hadn't written anything in months, and I guess it shows. but I was so sad that there weren't enough Jamie fics on here that I thought I could just write one of my own. hopefully people like it! I'm in the middle of my exam session, but if you have any requests or suggestions, feel free to write me!

this gif is completely unrelated, i just love phil dunstan

“Come in” Rebecca’s voice was clear and loud as always, even through the closed door. As you walked in, you took in the smell of hot tea permeating the door – definitely something you could always count on.

You greeted both Rebecca and Keeley, before plopping down on the sofa right in front of the big windows looking out onto the field. You looked out for a moment, noticing the team making their way outside to finally begin practice. You had been working at AFC Richmond for almost a year now, all thanks to Miss Keeley fucking Jones, obviously. Ever since you first day there, everyone had immediately started treating you as if you had always been part of the family, especially Rebecca. “If Keeley likes you so much, it must definitely mean something.” That was her excuse when she invited you out for drinks with the two of them on the second day. “Also, there’s only so many women working at AFC Richmond, we have to stick together, don’t we?” And the rest was history, as some author would say. Even the team had liked you since the get-go. Some more than others. There should be a disclaimer here: you had never cared for football, in any of its forms. But Keeley had been so persuading, making the job sound like a party. And she wasn’t lying. Being with the team was more fun than you could have ever imagined. Yes, some of them were self-centred, and some were self-centred pricks, even. But somehow, you had taken a liking to all of them. And now, after an entire year of working there, you knew them so well that she could even make out who was who all the way from Rebecca’s office.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, that when Keeley talked, you almost jumped out of her seat. “Babes, is everything alright?” Her voice was kind as always. “You seem off today.”

“Everything is fine.” You fixed yourself, turning around so to face both of your friends.

You smiled, or rather you forced yourself to make your smile feel as real as possible. But when you met Rebecca’s gaze you froze. She was holding one of those shortbread biscuits that Ted brought her in every morning and that you only had the pleasure to taste once and, well, you completely understood why Rebecca loved them so much. “I call bullshit.”

“What?”

“I said I call bullshit.” The woman put the last remaining bit of biscuit in the small, pink cardboard box, as to save it for later, and then made her way on the couch with you and Keeley. “You have been off for, well, quite a few days now. And I love that you’re an independent woman and everything, but Keeley and I are your friends. Actually, I would like to believe that we are your best friends. We care for you and we would very much appreciate it if you would trust us enough to come to us with your problems and thoughts.”

“Yeah, babes. You know we’re always here for you.” Keeley moved closer to you and leaned against the back of the couch.

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. You had wanted to talk with them for a while now, but you were always too afraid they wouldn’t care about it, or you were too embarrassed about how they might react to it. But this time it was them that asked you to tell them. And they seemed truly interested in knowing what was going on in your mind.

“Chop, chop, out with it.” Rebecca let her heels fall to the ground and set herself comfortably in the corner of the couch. Yeah, well, as comfortable as that extremely fitted pencil skirt gave her permission to.

You bit your lip for a moment, gathering all the courage you had. “It’s stupid, really.” You tried to laugh it off, hoping that they would just let it go.

But they didn’t. “It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel like this.” Keeley said, putting a hand on yours.

“Fine.” You sighed, looking off in front of you. “I think I may have feelings for Jamie.” You blurted out as quickly as you could.

“Our Jamie? Like, Jamie Tartt?” Keeley asked.

“I know it’s stupid. I shouldn’t like him, right? I know you think it’s stupid. I know you think he’s a prick, and you’re not wrong. I know that he’s a prick. Fuck, that makes me hate myself even more. How could I like a prick? Well, he had changed a bit, and now he-s a bit less of a prick. But still, he’s Jamie fucking Tartt, he’s probably one of the hottest footballers out there, in any way possible. He could fucking have whoever he wanted. Hell, he could have a fucking model. I’m sure he had model. He had you, Keels. And I’m just me. I fucking hate that I’m feeling this.” You started rambling on aimlessly, putting out there in only a few seconds all the fears and insecurities you had been holding in for the past who knows how long.

“Hey, love. Just, wait a minute.” Rebecca’s voice broke your train of thoughts, thankfully just in time, or who knows where you could’ve ended. “Let’s just calm down a moment, okay?”

“It’s just-” You sighed. “I hate that I’m feeling these feelings. I don’t want to feel them. Not for him. I don-t want to be his latest conquest that he’s going to move on from and forget as soon as he finds someone more interesting. I don’t want this. But I can’t help it. I… Fuck, I feel like I’m back in middle school. Shit, shit, shit. How old am I? 12? No, I’m not. I’m 25 years old, for fuck’s sake. I should fall for proper man. Not people like him.” Your eyes filled up with tears, which you tried to hide as best as you could, even though you knew that the other two would notice them, nonetheless.

And they did. Rebecca and Keeley shared a quick glance, before sliding even closer to you, both immediately wrapping their arms around your figure. “Listen, babes. You said it yourself. I’ve been with Jamie, and he was in his top prick form back then. Now he’s… he’s changing. I don’t know if it’s the training with Roy or if it’s Ted finally rubbing off on him, but he’s no longer the dickhead I dumped almost two years ago.”

“She’s right. He has changed.” Rebecca agreed with Keeley. “Also, you cannot tell your heart what it should and shouldn’t feel. It will only cause you more pain, and we definitely don’t want that.” The woman had this motherly instinct that you had always loved. She always knew what to say to make you feel better, or at least less shitty about yourself. “And remember, you could never do worse than me. I was married to the king of the shitheads.” She added, which made both you and Keeley laugh.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Keeley got up and ran to the door, only to lock it and run back to the couch. “If it’s alright with Rebecca, we’re going to take the morning off to talk, just the three of us.”

“Sounds perfect to me. I really didn’t have much to do anyway.” Rebecca was a great liar. You knew she probably had so many documents to read through and to sign. But she always made time to help you with your problems. And that’s why you loved her so much. “Is that right with you, love?”

You didn’t even need to say anything. You barely nodded, and next thing you knew, the three of you were sitting on the couch with no shoes on, a warm cup of tea each and a big chunky blanket on your legs. You never really thought they would be this open with you. Yes, they had made it clear ever since the beginning that they liked you and that they cared for you. But you had never thought that you could go to them for something like that and they would do all of that for you. But they did.

“Okay, let’s start with one simple question: are you two talking? Or, I don’t know, did you go on a date?” Keeley’s question was very straightforward and made completely sense. However, the answer wasn’t as easy to give.

“Well, we haven’t really gone on like a proper date. But we did spend quite a lot of time together last week.” You looked at the other two and you could feel them asking for more information with just their eyes. “It didn’t start as the best of situations…”

------------------------------ FLASHBACK ------------------------------

You didn’t really want to go out that night. It wasn’t really your thing. You usually spent your nights at home, reading a book or watching a movie. Or, if you were lucky, you would go out with Keeley and Rebecca for dinner and drinks, which you loved. What you didn’t love was going out for drinks with people you weren’t as comfortable with. But you had never really learnt how to say no to people, so when your old high school friend – who had moved to America for college and you hadn’t heard from since – messaged you on Instagram, saying that she was back in London for a few days and wanted to go out with you to “catch up”, you couldn’t really bring yourself to decline the offer or make up an excuse. So, you just agreed and made plans to meet up with her in front of a very busy and very fancy place downtown. You hated clubs, especially busy one, but even more you hated going to new places without people you knew. But you knew the girl, in a way. You were really close in high school, so things shouldn’t be too bad, right?

“So, you’re working for a football club! Never thought it would happen!” The girl shouted over the loud music which you were already hating with all your guts. But you just pulled through it.

“Yeah, it’s a good job.” You hated having to raise your voice so much, but it was the least you could do if you wanted to have a conversation with her.

“Do you know any famous footballer?”

“I mean, I know the boys from the team. I suppose they’re famous now. But yeah.”

“Would you introduce me to any of them?”

There it was. You had been talking with her for half an hour and, knowing how she was back in high school, you had been wondering how she hadn’t yet asked you about the guys. A small part of you really wanted to believe that she had changed and that she had stopped sleeping around with guys just because they were hot. But apparently, you were wrong. “Well, it’s complicated. They’re in the middle of the Premier season right now, and most of them are training really hard hoping to be rostered for their national teams. Plus, you’re only going to be in town for a few days, so that wouldn’t really work.”

“I wouldn’t mind moving my flight back for a footballer.” She smirked.

“Maybe next time.” You fake-smiled. “Also, who would want to go out with a football player? Most of them are self-centred assholes who only care about winning.”

“But they are sexy and they have money.”

“But you’re studying law in an ivy league college, you could be the one with money in the relationship.”

“Nah, I don’t really care about that. If a hot guy with money wanted to be with me, I would literally give everything up.” She said, as if that was the most obvious answer. Now you were remembering why you never reached out to her after high school was over.

You spent another half hour listening to her blabbering about something you didn’t really care about. And you could tell that she knew, but didn’t say anything. That was how things had always been between the two of you back in school: she was the popular one, with guys running after her, and her constantly cancelling plans that you two had made to go on a date with a different guy, while you spent your afternoons with the drama club, putting on the next show, to which she was always invited but she never came. It wasn’t all bad. You actually had good times with her. You spent a lot of time over at her house, and you were almost part of her family. But once you were no longer forced to see each other every single day at school, it didn’t take long for you to realise you were completely different. So, you just stopped looking for each other, making plans or going out. That’s why, when the messages stopped coming altogether, it didn’t really hurt you, since you were the first that had started to back out from that friendship. But years had passed and you had really hoped she had grown out of that phase of her life. But you were wrong. People never change, that was what you said to yourself as you were absentmindedly nodding to whatever she was saying now.

“Listen, Y/N, do you mind if I leave you alone here for a moment? There’s a guy over there that has been eyeing me for a while now and, I don’t know, I have this feeling I should go over there.” That was her usual excuse. I have this feeling. As if sexual craving could be described as an actual feeling. But you didn’t care, you actually wouldn’t mind to spend a few minutes by yourself. So, you just told her to go. And she did. Not a single “are you sure you don’t mind” nor an “it will be quick, I promise”. She simply picked all her stuff up and left.

And then you were alone.

You thought about leaving a couple of times, but you thought it would be rude because what would happen if she came back and you weren’t there?

So, you just remained seated there, in the small booth, waiting. And waiting. You looked around, studying the crowd, and hoping that she would just come back, or at least text you to let you know her intentions for the rest of the night. But that message never came. And you waited there, alone.

Until, after almost twenty minutes, a random man approached you. He had to have been at least 15 years older than you. He was dressed all fancy, a black blazer and jeans, a white shirt with the first couple of buttons left open to show a few sparse grey hairs on his chest, as if that was something that all women found sexy; I mean, who did he think he was? Roy Kent? He walked over to your table and leaned on it to get closer to you. “Is this seat taken?”

The first thing that hit you was the almost nauseating amount of perfume and aftershave, closely followed by the stench of cigarette and alcohol as soon as he opened his mouth. “I’m waiting for a friend.” You replied, hoping that would be enough to send him away.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been sitting here alone for quite some time now.” He smiled, and you wanted to throw up. “And I don’t she’s coming back. She and that boy looked very intimate if you know what I mean.”

That comment sent shivers down your spine. How long had he been looking at you? “I’m waiting for another friend of ours.” You said, hoping that he would buy it.

He moved closer to you. “Let me wait with you. I wouldn’t want to leave such a pretty girl out here on her own.”

You hated when people called you a girl. You were a grown woman, for god’s sake! But you hated it even more when that comment came from creepy old men that were nonchalantly flirting with you.

“They should be here any minute now.” You replied quickly. “And I actually prefer to sit alone.”

“Nonsense! Let me keep you company!” He smirked, sliding even closer to you. You were on the verge of tears, feeling this awful sensation in your stomach. You felt like you were going to throw up, and you weren’t sure whether it was because of his terrible taste in perfumes, the horrible stench of smoke, or just his presence in general. You wanted to just get up and get away, but it was as if your legs had forgotten how to move. You tried to insist, telling him that you were going to meet them outside, but he wouldn’t let you go. He started moving his hand, and you knew that, if you didn’t move, he would put it on your thigh. But, with tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, your body completely froze.

“Y/N!” A voice called your name. You turned around to look at the source. Your vision was hazy from the tears, and the strobe lights weren’t exactly helping you in that moment. “I’m sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find a spot to park me car.” He walked over to your table and waited for you to do or say something to sit next to you.

“You’re Jamie fucking Tartt!” The old man exclaimed. “Fuck, man. You’re great! My mates and I don’t really like Richmond, but you’re the best player in the team. You and that Oby- Obe-, you know, the Nigerian guy.”

“Yeah, cheers, man.” Jamie replied, taking a seat next to you. “Now, would you mind leaving us alone?”

“Is she your date?” The man asked, and you could tell that he was confused because why would a star like Jamie Tartt go out with a normal girl like you?

“Do you have a problem?”

“No, no!” The old man finally stood up from the table. “You enjoy her.” He smirked and gave him a wink, before looking at you up and down for the last time and eventually leave.

You finally could feel your body relax again when your attention was caught by Jamie talking. “What a fucking creep.” He shook his head, before finally looking at you. “Are you alright? Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head. “I think you got here just in time.” You smiled at him, almost feeling guilty for probably having ruined his night.

“Were you here alone?”

“Well, not really. I was here with a friend but she left with a guy.” You stopped, quickly looking around. “But I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“Some kind of friend.” He sighed, still looking at you, as if he were studying you, trying to understand if everything was truly okay, trying to assess the situation. “Do you want to leave?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want to go out, maybe grab a bite?” He raised his voice, thinking that you might have not heard him over the loud music.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay. You can go back to your evening if you want. I’m fine, I swear.”

“I was here on me own.”

“You go to clubs alone?”

“Well, yeah.” He looked at you for a moment. “Listen, really, I don’t have anything to do here. And in any case, I would much rather spend time with you. So, if you want to leave and do something actually funny instead of waiting for some shitty friend to hopefully come back, then count me in.”

------------------------- END OF FLASHBACK -------------------------

“Did you go with him?” Keeley asked, looking at you as if she was watching the latest episode of a soap opera, completely hooked up to the story.

“We spent the entire night together.” You said shyly.

“Doing what?” You had never seen Rebecca so shocked and interested in a story in a while.

“We ate in a chicken shop; we stayed there talking for a while and then we took a walk.”

“How long did you stay out for?”

You could feel both Keeley’s and Rebecca’s eyes on you, demanding an answer, wanting to know more, to know everything. “Well, we took the sunrise as our cue to go home.”

“Babes! You’re telling me that you stayed up all night talking with Jamie?” Keeley squealed, jumping on her knees. “Like, you found topics to talk about for, what, 7? 8 hours?”

“It wasn’t that difficult. I didn’t even have to force it.”

“What did you talk about?” Asked Rebecca. And all of a sudden, the almost 50-year-old and 30-year-old women in front of you turned back into their high school personas and you almost wanted to laugh at how adorably funny that scene was.

“Well, a bit of everything, you know. Our lives, where we grew up, our favourite things, favourite food, favourite movie, favourite city, the books that have impacted us the most, the cities that we dream of visiting one day. Normal stuff.”

Keeley looked at you, in complete shock. “You talked about books. With Jamie. How?”

“He said that he had noticed I like to read and asked me about my favourite book. I told him and then asked him the same thing. And he told me.” You replied, as if that was obvious. But it was only then that you remember that Keeley had been with Jamie in the past and, if she was that shocked, it must have meant that, when they were together, he didn’t read. Possibly at all.

“Babes, remember when I told you he had changed since I had broken up with him, right? Well, that’s an understatement. When we were together, it was fun, but we didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff. He was much more superficial. I don’t think he never really asked me what my favourite food was. And the fact that he was taking an interest in all of those things about you, well, it definitely means something. I wouldn’t take that for granted.” Hearing Keeley, someone you trusted with all of your heart, someone you loved and looked up to, someone that truly knew who you were talking about, saying all of those things, made you feel things. You didn’t know what those things meant, but they were things you hadn’t felt in a long time. And for the first time in days, you were finally accepting the idea of having feelings for Jamie Tartt.

After a few moments of silence, Rebecca asked you “Was that the only time you spent time together?”

“Well, no. I mean, we’ve been talking basically every single day. He sends me a good morning text almost every day, and we talk a lot at night. Sometimes he calls me.”

“Okay, okay. That’s good.” Rebecca said, almost as if she was an investigator gather all the evidence. “But you didn’t answer my question: did you go out another time?”

You immediately felt heat rising to your cheeks. “We didn’t really go out.” You looked at the two women in silence for a moment. “Last night he… ehm… he showed up to my place.”

“What?” They both almost screamed at the same time.

------------------------------ FLASHBACK ------------------------------

You had just finished putting on your pyjamas after a long warm shower. You still had to decide what you wanted to eat, something you always dreaded because, as much as you loved cooking, you hated preparing food for one. You started making your way down the stairs and to the kitchen when your doorbell rang. You weren’t really expecting anyone, so the sound left you confused. You looked through the peephole before even saying anything, so that if it was someone you didn’t know, you could jut pretend you weren’t at home. But, when you looked through it, you were surprised to see Jamie standing right outside of your door.

You immediately took a look at yourself in the mirror right beside the door, trying to make yourself look at least presentable, before finally opening the door. When Jamie’s entire figure came into view, you noticed the food boxes in his hands. “Jamie?”

“Hi, Y/N! Ehm, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this but… ehm… I thought we could spend some time together, you know?” Was Jamie blushing?

You stood there, a soft smile on your lips, looking at the man in front of you. “Sure.” You giggled, moving to open the door even more, as a way to let him in.

“I’m sorry, I should have texted or called. That was stupid. If you’re busy I can just-”

You cut him off. “Jamie. I’m not busy. You can come in. I just wasn’t expecting visitors, so the house is, well, it’s not tidy.” You take a step forward to take some of the boxes off of him. “What’s with all of this food? Did you rob a supermarket?” You laughed, nodding your head as a sign for him to follow you, before making your way to the kitchen.

“No!” He laughed, and suddenly you felt this weird sensation in your stomach. “I didn’t know what you were craving and so I got everything that you told me you liked.” He said, while putting the boxes on the counter. “I got us a pizza to share, because you said you’re not a huge fan, but that you like to eat it while watching movies. I also got us kebabs because they’re always good, and sushi because why not. Oh, and I also got us those spicy Korean rice thingies that you said you love so much. What’s their name? Tee- To-”

You laughed as he struggled to say the word. “Tteokbokki.”

“Yeah, those.” He smiled, putting his hands on his sides.

“Just a question.” You walked around the kitchen gathering cutlery and plates to eat. “How many people did you think were going to be here? There’s enough food to feed an army.”

He looked at you and then the food, before bursting out laughing. “I told you! I didn’t know what you were craving. And I wanted to do something nice for you, but I overdid it.”

You put the plates on the counter and turned to look at him. “It’s okay, I appreciate it anyways.” You smiled. “But why would you wanted to do this for me? It’s not my birthday or anything.”

“I just… I had a very good time with you the other night.” Was Jamie blushing? Again? “And I was really in the mood to watch a good movie. So, who better than you to watch it with.”

You smiled, trying to hide the blushing coming onto your cheeks as well by turning your attention to the food on the counter. “Did you have a movie in mind?” You asked, while putting the different foods on the plates.

“You said that you really like Dead Poets Society, right? And that you think everyone should watch it at least once in their lifetime, right? So, I thought, since I’ve never seen it, we could, I don’t know, watch it together. If you want to, obviously.” He waited for you to plate the food to pick a couple of plates up and follow you into the living room.

“That actually sounds like a perfect plan, Mr Tartt.” You smiled, while taking a seat on the couch, waiting for him to join you.

------------------------- END OF FLASHBACK -------------------------

“Fucking hell, that’s adorable!” Keeley exclaimed. “He never did that for me! When he showed up uninvited, it was usually because he wanted to have sex.”

“Well, this is good!” Rebecca joined in. “He has changed. He listened to what you told him, he remembered your favourite food and your favourite movie. And before you say something like ‘but that’s not a big dead!’, yes it fucking is. It is a huge deal. Men aren’t always reliable. Rupert never was, at least. I vividly remember telling him my favourite drink at least a dozen times. And every single time he would get me something completely different. At the beginning I was too afraid to say anything, so I just drank it. But then I started to speak up. And still, he didn’t remember.”

“Yeah, okay, but him remembering that I like pizza only when watching movie doesn’t mean he feels anything for me.” You said, throwing your head back.

“I’m sorry, babes, didn’t you say that he told you that he wanted to spend time with you?” Keeley asked. “You said it yourself: he came to your place with all the food you had told him you liked and suggested to watch your favourite movie together because he had had a good time with you and wanted to do that again.”

“He decided to spend time with you rather than going out with other people or spend the night texting some random girl on dating apps.” Added Rebecca. “He chose to be with you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You sighed. “I still don’t think he has feelings for me, though.”

“Whatever, babes.” Keeley took a sip out of her mug, before refocusing on you. “What happened next? Did you watch the movie?”

“Yes, we did.” You smiled at the memory. “He got emotional at the end. I’m not saying that he cried, but he definitely had glossy eyes by the time of the ‘O Captain, my Captain’ scene.”

“Which means he feels comfortable enough to show his emotions in front of you.” Rebecca noted. “And what happened next? Did he leave or did you spend another night talking?” She smirked, trying to make fun of you in a friendly way, almost mom-like.

“Well, he stayed a while longer.” You looked at the two women. “We talked a little about the movie, he told me what he thought of it, we discussed a little about why I thought it is a very important and still relevant movie, and he agreed with me. At first, I have to be honest, I thought he was just agreeing with me to not make me feel bad. But then he added to my argument and I stood corrected. He had truly understood the point of the movie and of my thoughts. For the first time in, gosh, I don’t even know how long, I felt seen, listened and understood by someone that wasn’t you two or Sam.”

Keeley brought a hand to her chest. “I have conflicted feelings because, by the way you’re talking, I want to tell you to just run out of here and into this man’s arms; but at the same time, every now and then, I remember you’re talking about Jamie, and it feels so weird because he’s so different from what I remember him to be like.” She explained. “Which is good, but kind of unsettling.”

Rebecca nodded along with what Keeley said, before eventually turning once again to face you. “What happened after you talked?”

“We decided to watch Modern Family, you know, to cheer ourselves up after the movie.”

“And?” Asked in unison the two women.

“And nothing.”

“I call bullshit.” Said Rebecca.

“Agreed.” Added Keeley. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not true!” They once again spoke in unison, which was starting to become quite weird.

“Nothing happened. We just… fell asleep.” You almost murmured those last words, almost too scared to say it out loud in front of them.

“I’m sorry, what?” Asked Rebecca, who had obviously heard and just wanted you to say it again out loud.

“We fell asleep!” You shouted. And you were so glad that Rebecca’s office was so high up and far from others. “As we were watching the show, he started leaning into me. At first, he laid his head on my shoulder, and then, somehow, we ended up with his head in my lap and my hands in his hair.” You could feel your cheeks burning up.

The two women shared a quick look, before turning back to you, huge smiles on their faces. “When did he fall asleep?” Asked Keeley.

“I don’t know.” You looked down at your own hands. “I fell asleep as well. I don’t know how or when, but when I woke up, it was like 3 in the morning, and we were lying on the couch. He had his head on my stomach and an arm draped over my waists.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” You were fidgeting with your bracelet, too embarrassed to look up and meet your friends’ eyes. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want him to go away.” For some reason your eyes started filling up with tears.

“Hey, babes. It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not!” You almost shouted, tears finally falling down your face. “It’s not fucking okay. I hate feeling like this.”

“Love, hey, just… wait a second. Take a deep breath.” Rebecca moved closer and wrapped her arms around you. “Why do you hate it?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling all these things for someone that doesn’t even like me back.”

“You don’t know that, Y/N.” Keeley moved closer as well, taking your hand in hers and leaning her head against yours. “I mean, you’re the coolest person I know, you’re fucking smart and interesting, and you’re fit as fuck. I think most of the team has at least a tiny crush on you.” She smiled, hoping to cheer you up. But that didn’t work.

“Listen, love.” Rebecca squeezed you, before pulling away slightly. “As that song says, the heart wants what it wants. I know feeling like this is terrible, but there’s only one thing that you can really do, and that’s talking to him.”

“But what if he says that he was just being a good friend? What if I misread every single thing he has done and said to me up until now?”

“And what if you haven’t?” Keeley asked. “Finding you at that club was completely random, pure luck. But he then chose to spend the entire night with you. Just like he chose to send you a good morning text every single day, and he chose to come and spend the evening with you. Also, I’m almost 100% sure that he woke up as well during the night, but didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to go, just like you didn’t want him to leave.” Keeley brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face. “I know it’s hard, but you have to act.”

“But I’m scared.”

“Which means that you care.” Rebecca smiled. “You care about him and about your relationship.”

You looked at the two women in silence for a few moments. You wanted to cry, and you wanted to scream. You wanted to run out of there and straight to Jamie. You wanted to hug Keeley and Rebecca ad tell them how much you loved them. But all you could do in that moment was smile and be glad for the wonderful friends you had. “So, I should go and talk to him?”

“Yes.” Keeley smiled.

“And you should do it right now.” Said Rebecca, standing up from the couch. “The team is going back inside, which could be a good moment for you to swoop in and talk with Jamie.” She seamlessly slipped back in her high heels and fixed her blouse. “And if anyone has anything to say about it, they will have to come to me. I’m the owner of this club, after all.” She winked.

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

The team had just made their way to the changing room, ready to hear Roy giving them “pointers”, or rather making sure they knew every little thing they had done wrong. But Jamie didn’t really care about that. Jamie knew that he had played like shit, but he couldn’t help it. His head was someplace else.

“Oi, Tartt!” Roy’s voice echoed in the room, and everyone’s head turned to look at the man sitting in front of his changing station. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh? You fucked all the assists. The team was constantly looking for you, and you were nowhere to be found!”

Jamie’s eyes remained low on the ground. “’m sorry, coach.” His voice was soft. “I’ll do better next time.”

His teammates couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Somehow, in the span of 24 hours, Jamie had lost all of his confidence. They looked at him and almost couldn’t recognise him. And the worst past was that no one really knew what to do with him, how to talk to him, how to cheer him up. Because that’s the thing with teams: you’re a family, you’re all extremely close, but you’re still a bunch of men that don’t know how to handle emotions and how to talk about their feelings. So, they just bottle everything up and hope that, sooner or later, it will just go away.

But right now, looking at Jamie, Sam felt compelled by something to just stand up and walk over to him, to say something. “Is everything all right?”

Sam’s voice startled Jamie, who was so deep in his thoughts he had almost forgotten he was at the clubhouse. “Uh?” Jamie looked up and was met by Sam’s concerned look. “No, yeah, everything is fine.”

“It don’t look like it, bruv.” Isaac joined in the conversation.

Sam took a seat next to Jamie. “You don’t have to talk to us about whatever is on your mind. We’re not going to force you. Just know that we’re here for you.”

“Sì, muchacho. We’re a familia.” Dani and Colin walked over as well, almost forming a barrier between him and the rest of the room, creating a safe space for him.

No one said anything for a few moments, most of them unsure of how to act, of what to say to him. They wanted to ask him, to help him, but they had no idea how. So, they all remained quiet, until Jamie broke the silence. “I feel so stupid.” Jamie’s voice was low. “I… I feel like a middle schooler.”

“What do you mean?” Colin asked.

Sam immediately turned to look at Jamie. “Did something happen with your dad?” And Jamie could feel the worry in Sam’s voice.

“No, no, I haven’t talked with me dad since Wembley.” He shook his head, rubbing his face. “No, I… You’re going to laugh…” He looked up, but all he saw was seriously interested faces, the faces of friends that were genuinely concerned for him. “I have a crush…” He almost whispered, but it was still loud enough for them to hear. They all shared a quick look amongst themselves, before turning to look again at the man sitting before them. “I feel so stupid because, usually, I have all this confidence with women, right? I’m so sure about me self that I don’t worry about the possibility of a rejection. It doesn’t affect me, usually…”

Sam nodded along with everything that Jamie said, as if he could relate to every little detail. “But with this woman in particular, you’re scared.”

Isaac asked the question that everyone wanted to ask. “Who is this woman?”

Jamie looked up from the ground, meeting everyone’s eyes. He could tell that his friends wanted to help him, but something was stopping him, almost too afraid to admit he had feelings for her, too scared that they would laugh in his face and say that she deserved better than him.

“Muchacho, you’re a beautiful man, and every woman would be lucky to be with you.” Dani always had this way of talking that could give confidence even to the shiest and most introverted person in the world.

“No, you don’t understand. This woman is different from the others.” He sighed. “She’s not a top model or an aspiring actress that wants to be with me because I’m famous. She’s… she’s different.” Jamie started fidgeting with the ends of his shoelaces. “And I’m different. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, I know that. And I think that’s why I’m so scared. Like, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she still thinks I’m a prick? Uh?”

“Listen, boyo. You said it yourself; you have changed. And if this woman doesn’t like your new you, then too bad for her.” Colin took a seat next to Jamie, opposite to Sam. “But if you truly like her, you should tell her. Don’t let your fear get in the way of your happiness, okay?”

“Yeah, like Selena Gomez said in her song, the heart wants what it wants.” Smiled Dani.

Jamie looked at those people around him, and for a moment he felt all the guilt for how he had treated them two years before rise to the top. Did they forget everything he had done to them? Did they forget how bad he had made them feel? He had treated them so poorly, and yet, now they were there, next to him, showing care and interest in how he was feeling. “Thank you, boys.” He smiled softly.

“You know we’re here.” Sam smiled, giving him a small push with the shoulder. “We’re family.”

“Yeah, bruv.” Isaac added. “But are you going to tell us who this woman is or not?”

However, their conversation was cut short by the door to the changing room opening, and Y/N walking in, looking around, clearly searching for someone. And that was when the boys realised Jamie didn’t need to tell them anything, because as soon as he saw her, he stood up. He fixed his hair and immediately took a step forward. None of them said anything. They just remained quiet and watched the scene unfold in front of their eyes.

“Jamie.” You smile once you finally met his eyes.

“Y/N” He replied, softly, taking another step towards her.

“Do you… do you think we could talk for a moment? Alone?” She said quietly, but the silence in the room made it extremely complicated for her not to be heard by everyone.

Jamie nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

You smiled, turning around to exit the changing room. Jamie took a deep breath, turning quickly to look at the four guys standing a few steps away from him. He nodded to them, and they nodded to him in return, as a way to say ‘you got this’ or ‘go get her’. So, he took one more deep breath, and followed her outside.

Once he stepped into the corridor, he noticed Keeley and Rebecca standing in the middle of it, looking at the two of them. Keeley smiled, which gave Jamie a boost of confidence, Whereas Rebecca was looking at him in such an intimidating way that immediately sent shivers running down his spine. He knew they were there for you, and he knew how much they cared for you, so it wasn’t difficult for him to understand what Rebecca’s gaze meant: ‘break her heart and I’ll break you’.

He greeted the two women with a quick nod, before realising you were still walking down the corridor. “Wait up, Y/N!” He said, jogging after you. “Where are we going?”

“Boot room. It’s the quietest place in here.” You looked at him, noticing his expression, as if he wanted to say something. “I already asked Will to leave us alone in there.” You replied, quickly grabbing him by his hand and pulling him through the doorway.

“You always think about everything.” He chuckled, getting into the room. He never really understood when or how that room had become like a sort of therapy room for the team, where most of them went when they needed to get something off of their chest or just be alone, but couldn’t leave the clubhouse. That place stank like hell. But he was glad nonetheless for the privacy. “You had your supporters with you as well, uh?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” You laughed under your breath. “They are actually the ones that forced me to come and talk to you.”

“Should I be scared, then?”

“No! No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think so.” You started pacing around the room, trying to give order to all the things you had in your head at the moment.

“Is everything alright?” Jamie looked at you, slightly worried.

You looked at him, taking a deep breath. “Yes.” You nodded. “Just give me a moment because I haven’t really thought about what I want to say to you. Or rather, how I want to say it to you.”

Jamie nodded, taking a step towards you and catching your hand before you stepped away again. “Do you mind if I go first, then?”

You looked at him, surprise painted all over your face. You didn’t know what to say, so you simply nodded, waiting for him to talk.

“Okay, so, first of all, I wanted to tell you that last night was… well, I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I really wish we could do it more often.” He smiled, squeezing your hand as a way to catch your attention. “And then to the difficult part... Okay. The boys told me to just be me self. But it’s difficult, you know? Because, like, I am always me self, but when I’m with you, I’m different from how I am with the others. Not in the sense that I’m not truly me self, but in the sense that, when I’m with you, I’m me self even more than usual.” He stopped, looking down. “Sorry, I didn’t really have anything prepared either.” He chuckles.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Go on, you’re doing great.” You said, trying to look at him in the eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is that when I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly me self. Like I’m the most authentic version of me. And I like it. I want to be like that always. But I feel like I can only be like that when I’m with you.” He looks at you. “I lied before. I don’t want to be with you more often.” You stopped and looked at him completely confused. “I want to be with you as much as I can. I want to be with you every fucking day.” You giggled, feeling the blood rushing up your neck and to your cheeks. “I want to make lunch for you. Well, no, okay. I want to learn how to make lunch for you. I want to take you out to dinner. And I also want to order in and watch a movie on a couch like we did last night. I want you to play with me hair because, fuck, that’s the most relaxing shit ever.” You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain all the happiness that you were feeling in that moment. “I want to go out with our friends and be able to show you off. I want to hold your hand as we walk down the street.”

“Jamie…”

“Wait a second.” He interrupted you, pulling you even closer. “I want you to wear my jersey at matches. And to cheer for me. And I want to kiss you whenever we win a match. In front of everyone. I want to go out and celebrate with the team, and while we’re there, I want to hold you close while we talk with them, and then be able to just walk home together and celebrate just the two of us. And I don’t mean have sex. I mean, that would be fun, but I meant like having a party just the two of us. Drinking, and dancing and laughing. Or we don’t have to go home, and we can just walk around town all night, like we did that time.” He became all serious all of a sudden. “I want to be able to protect you from creepy old men. Actually, no. That wouldn’t be necessary because you would never need to go out by yourself ever again.”

“Jamie, I…”

“Wait, I’m not done.” He interrupted you once more. “I want to be able to sleep over at your place and you over at mine. I want us to buy toothbrushes to leave at the other’s house. I want to wake up next to you like we did today, but I want that every single day. I want to have me clothes at your place and your clothes at mine. I want to drive Roy mad by telling him last minute that I’m sleeping over at your place, so he has to come all the way there. And after I’m done training with him, I want to stop at a cafe as I get back home and I want to buy your favourite latte, so that you can wake up to the smell of warm coffee every day.”

“Jamie!” You shouted, trying to stop him from talking.

“What?”

“Just-” Your hands found their way to the back of his head, as your eyes remained fixed on his. “Just kiss me, will you?” You laughed, before pulling him down towards you.

When your lips finally crashed against one another, you could feel the tension you had been holding in your stomach finally releasing. You pushed yourself on your tiptoes, as Jamie’s hands slowly and softly found their resting place on the small of your back, helping you up, and pulling you closer to his chest. Your hands played with his hair, and in that moment, you were sure he could feel your heart beating like crazy in your chest.

“So…” He whisper while pulling slightly away, only to press his forehead against yours. “Did you want to say something?”

You kept your eyes closed, too afraid to open them and realise that it was only just a dream. “I think you said everything.” You chuckled, trying to get some air back in your lungs.

“Well, if you wanted to say something…”

“Jamie.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

A/N: sorry, this was so long! so, if you read it all the way through, then thank you! please, feel free to leave me any kind of feedback and don't forget to send me suggestions or requests if you have them! thank you again! ily <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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syoddeye · 21 days ago

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like i'm winning it - 02 wellspring

ghost x f!reader | 3k words | series page | ao3 cw: alcohol, threats of violence, power imbalance, sexual harassment (quid pro quo offer), reader is in over her head, male ocs You've never made it this far. Not on your own.

Win comes around a lot more after your date.

He buys booths, bottles. Slips tips to any of your work friends who so happen to breeze by and drops bills on the host stand. In one month, more money passes through your hands than the last three combined.

You pay off the rent you'd been dodging. Renew the subscriptions to your motorized blinds and water filter. Get your nails done. A balance of necessities and luxuries. Indulgence to feel alive, practicality to stay afloat.

In return, every night you're not working, you accompany him on dates—restaurants, galleries, and shows. Stuff previously out of reach for you. He asks you to read, dead scripts that'll never see the screen, but good practice. You show him your self-tapes. A list of the classes and workshops you want to take. And it's like that first dinner. No jokes, no teasing. Win takes you seriously. Says you got a gift, that you're a little diamond in the rough. Raw potential that only needs polishing.

But as nice as Win is, you're not naïve. His attention is a well that could dry up like Tahoe. You're determined to enjoy it while it lasts, though.

Mal stops you one night, just as you're shrugging your coat off, mid-sentence with Irina. She tilts her head and says there's a 'big guy' waiting for you out front. Your shift's covered, and your pay won't be docked. It doesn't click until she tacks on as an afterthought, "Does he always wear a mask?"

You stop, coat half-off, a cold rush prickling the back of your neck. So. Ghost is here. No big deal—it's probably something for Win. However, when you check your messages, there's nothing recent. Must be a surprise, you think, smiling as Irina jabs her elbow into your ribs, purring out, "Have fun, my little Star."

You pull your coat back on, zipping it to your chin as you bolt out of the dressing room. The club isn't quite to capacity, but you weave through the crowd until you reach the doors. You say goodnight to security as the doors swing open and see him dead ahead.

Ghost pops the door to a sleek red car, but the back seat's empty.

"Where's Win?" You ask as you climb in.

"You see 'im?" The door shuts in your face.

Rude. You don't recognize the car, but Win mentioned owning several. Even curiouser, there's no uniformed driver. Ghost slides into the driver's seat.

You give up on questions. All Ghost does is grunt and answer monosyllabically.

You temporarily lose your ability to speak at all, anyway, when the sidewalks outside get cleaner and the stores trend nicer. You don't want to believe it when he takes a particular turn, heart swelling in your chest, but then yes—he turns again, and the street narrows, feeding into a set of chrome gates reading CynoSure Studios.

You've never made it this far. Not on your own.

The car slows but doesn't stop as the red light of the gate's security sensors wash through the interior, then flick blue. The gates open automatically, and you're on the move again, passing warehouse after warehouse. All locked up and closed. Ghost takes you to the last one tucked in the corner. The car door opens for you, inviting in the breeze, carrying the faint scent of cigarette smoke with it.

"Get out, go in, and give 'im your name."

"Win?"

"No."

"Who, then?"

The look Ghost gives you in the mirror tells you ought to try your luck with the stranger. Not him.

You step out and straighten your skirt, and risk one more question. "Can you at least tell me how long this will take?"

"As long as it needs to."

Helpful bastard.

Your heels click against the pavement, the sound ricocheting down the boulevard of silent studios, the street stretching out, empty but for the murmur of jazz seeping through the warehouse walls. The door gives when you pull the handle, and warm air brushes over you as you step into the dimly lit, cavernous space.

In the center is a small set. Parts of an old school, traditional family home. A kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. A set of speakers on the cement floor. A man leans on the counter, staring at a spread of papers on the table.

"Hello?"

He looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face. "Can I help you?"

You give him your name, eyes darting around, finding no others. "I think my–I think Win Goforth set this up?"

"Senior or Junior?"

"Junior?"

His golden oculars flicker, the faint glow brightening as something shifts behind his pupils—an interface scanning through a list, maybe a calendar. "Right. Come on in, then. You're the last girl of the day."

You laugh a little incredulously, confused, and glance back at the entrance. Ghost would hear if you screamed, right? He'd also…respond. Right?

"I'm the last girl for…?"

"The Lumina Vitae shoot? The skincare line?"

Your steps falter. When you didn't hear back after you'd sent off a dozen self-portraits—your hands lit as best as you could manage with a desk lamp and a timed lens—you prepared yourself for rejection. You knew it was a longshot. No professional help, no proper gear, just hoping beyond hope they were good enough. Yet here you were, apparently in the running.

"Oh, right. That shoot. Of course, thank you. Hard to keep up these days."

He chuckles. "Sure is. I'm Max, by the way. If you'd just…"

Max helps you onto the raised set, immediately positioning you under one of the dangling set lights. He retrieves a small control from amongst the papers, which you realize are printed stills of various hands carefully posed and photographed.

"No paperwork to sign?"

He ignores the question and turns up the music. "Hands out." You do, arms slightly bent, palms facing down—basic stuff, he mentions. No papers necessary since he knows the Goforths. With a tap to his temple, a small photographic drone floats onto set from somewhere unseen. Its lenses adjust automatically.

"Remain still."

Then, it's all too fast, snapping photos at a dizzying speed, its movements fluid. He must take a hundred pictures, peppering you with generic, scripted questions. How long you've known Win, your day job, if you're a local, and your family. That sort of thing.

Suddenly, he stops, humming, dark shapes moving over his irises as he reviews shots.

"I'm afraid this lighting is too severe. Mind if we…?" He walks toward the bedroom. "There's a better lamp in here."

"Of course."

You scurry after, the drone following, and sit on the bed, close to the nightstand where he turns on a gentler lamp. The light's warmer, softer. He instructs you to lay one hand over the other, slightly offset, and you're suddenly thankful for the manicure and the little luxuries Win's generosity affords you.

If this goes well, I could get more than a manicure.

You buzz at the thought, at the domino effect this opportunity might have. You're so caught up in your daydreams that you barely notice Max moving closer, pupils dilating manually. He reaches out, his fingertip pressing gently against your chin, tilting your face toward his.

"Is Win your only agent?"

The question catches you off guard. You're about to correct him, explain that Win isn't your agent, that you wouldn't even call him your boyfriend, but remember your lie. "Yes."

The drone hums past, its tiny turbines leaving a heated wake. It hovers above Max's shoulder, an impersonal observer. "You're not affiliated with any other studio? You've never worked for Echelon? Parallax? You're not, ah, fucking some other big wig?"

You pull back, lips pressing together, but keep your hands in place. After years of trying to wedge a single finger in the door, scrabbling for every chance, you're not about to fold to a sleaze like him. He's not the first, not the last. Still pisses you off, though. "No."

His irises shift from the soft gold to a harsh, ophidian yellow. "No? Good. Then, maybe we can help each other. I'm, ah, inclined to give you this job. Your hands aren't bad. Small, but nothing a shop job couldn't fix. And no mods. No synthetic patchwork. I like that. Makes me curious how much of you is natural."

You wrinkle your nose.

"Problem is, Win's signed to take half of your earnings," He shakes his head. "That doesn't seem right, does it? You're the one putting in the work."

You don't answer.

"Why don't we cut the middle man out?"

Dread and disgust churns your stomach. What he's insinuating, what he's suggesting—you think of calling for Ghost just to see Max wet himself. He must not know the lug's here. "And I'm sure you're offering this out of the goodness of your heart."

He snorts. "Of course not. This lot isn't booked until tomorrow morning, and there's a perfectly good bed here…" His voice trails. "I'm sure you can put two and two together, sweetheart."

Bile, sharp and bitter, rises to the back of your throat. You have half a mind to spit it onto his shoes, but instead, you swallow it down, determined to keep it together.

"Thanks for your time, Max," Hundreds of nights coddling drunk assholes at the club have prepared you for this. "I'll be going."

Max doesn't budge when you stand, forcing you into the narrow gap between him and the nightstand. "You sure about that?" He ducks his head closer, the drone bobbing beside his face. "I'll tell Win you're being difficult, and you know, we actually go way back. Might be difficult to find work on a blacklist."

Your lip curls, Ghost's name tucked behind your teeth as a last resort. "You can tell Win whatever lie you want, I'm not doing this. Not for you, not for anyone. Win's been nothing but kind to me. I don't care who he is, I'm not going to–" You glance at the cheap stock bed, "I'm not going to betray his trust like that."

You don't know where you stand with Win—how serious he is about you, or if anything is even there—but you do know that he's been kind, generous, and this…Fucking some slimeball? Cutting him out for a stupid fancy lotion commercial? You couldn't.

Turning on your heel, you make for the door, fuming, and nearly fall off set.

There, leaning against the far wall beside the door, is Ghost. Arms crossed, relaxed, and looking bored as ever. Has he been inside the whole time?

Behind you, laughter. Max follows, clapping and squeezing an over-familiarly hand on your shoulder. "Oh, Win's got a live one, Ghost. Don't you think?"

What the fuck?

You jerk away from him and trip over your words. "What–I don't–Aren't you with Lumina Vitae?"

Max shakes his head. "Oh, I'm no, not at all. I just work for Mr. Goforth. This," He gestures at the hovering drone. "Is his toy. Feel free to wave. Win will watch this later." He taps his temple twice, and the tiny bot emits a melodic chime before lowering obediently into his hand. "Good job by the way, you passed."

"I…passed?"

Max steps around you. "Win's a high-value individual. The Goforths have enemies. Rivals. He likes to vet his, ah, company before he gets in too deep." He gathers the stills and shrugs. "Next time you see him, he'll probably have you sign an NDA. That's the usual timeline."

Heat floods your skin, blooming over your face and neck. The entire situation is outlandish, bordering on absurd, but that's the point, isn't it? It's a test. Win is the heir-apparent to one of the biggest names in film, his family worth billions. You knew that, of course, but you've spent weeks skating around it, choosing instead to lean into the fantasy, pretending it wasn't reality until now.

Max watches you stumble off the set unassisted. "Congrats again. See you around sometime."

Ghost stares past you as you hurry across the warehouse, desperate to put distance between yourself and the stooge. Your arms fold over your chest, hugging yourself tightly, the pressure a weak attempt to steady the choppiness of your breath. He peels off the wall, following close enough that you half-expect him to grab you, stuff you into the trunk, and kick off another leg of this hazing ritual.

But he doesn't. He doesn't say a word when you leave the CynoSure lot, or when you kick off your heels and curl against the door. You press your forehead to the cool glass, mind buzzing with static. Again, you're the one who breaks the silence.

"Does Win…Does he test everyone?"

"Yeah."

Your eyes snap to the back of his head. "Does everyone pass?"

"No."

"What happens to–"

"Don't ask."

"Can I ask one more?" You lick your lip and ask before he can refuse. "Would you have helped me, if he…if he tried something?"

The car jerks suddenly, swerving as it barely misses a motorbike you blast past. Ghost swears, hands choking the steering wheel. After a moment, his shoulders sag, and he cracks his neck with a grunt. "'Course. Don't want to be out of a job."

Ghost doesn't take you home. He takes you to Win. No message or call is needed. He's expecting you. You try to think of something coherent to say to him, but you keep circling back to fuck you. You can't say that, though, glancing at the man behind the wheel.

You follow Ghost from the car into the building, squeezing past him into the lift, and settle into a rear corner. One arm wraps across your torso, the other bent at the elbow, fingertips hovering near your mouth, the impulse to chew your nails loud. The doors close, and the lift starts, numbers climbing in a muted LED glow. You stare into the middle, at and through your reflection.

The jolt is sudden. The lift grinds to a halt, and you instinctively reach for the bars on either side to keep yourself from falling. White light shifts abruptly to red. Your gaze whips to Ghost, mouth opening at the sight of his hand eclipsing the screen, a thumb pressed firmly to the emergency stop.

"What are you–" The question shrivels when he takes one step and closes the distance. The space between you almost nonexistent, and erased further as he leans closer. His head tilts down, all angles and shadows under the crimson light. His eyes are a dimmer red than usual, earthy, like rust. His hands slip over yours, his weight shifting to apply pressure. You try to ignore their smothering warmth.

"You and I are gonna have an understanding."

Your tongue twists. You nod.

"You passed Junior's stupid test. Good for you." Each word drips with disdain, clipped with irritation, like he can't believe you made it this far. "Doesn't mean your pretty arse belongs in this building, on 'is arm, or anywhere near 'is family. Don't care 'ow much 'e likes you or that cunt of yours. One step out of line, an' you'll be landfill. We clear?"

Landfill. "We're clear."

Ghost grunts and lingers a moment longer, his eyes dropping, and for a second, you think—no, you're sure—he's sneaking a look at your tits. But then one hand lifts, and he plants it against your neck. His thumb settles in the notch above your collarbone, pressing lightly. A scan passes over you, invisible but invasive, crackling in your ears. Then he pulls away with a huff, apparently unimpressed by what he found.

The lift moves before you do. When the doors open, it takes every ounce of willpower to unstick yourself from the corner, legs unsteady beneath you.

The condo is quiet. Ghost disappears ahead without you, before you can toe off one heel in the foyer. Your feet throb, but it's nothing compared to the cement block of stress resting on your shoulders. You should've stayed at the club. Between the 'test' and Ghost's brief, terrifying warning, you think you're close to collapse. You walk as quietly as you can, slow, still at a loss for what to say to Win.

You turn the corner into the living space and flinch at a loud pop, followed by a familiar burst of sparks. A champagne bottle sparkler flares, held aloft by a grinning, dressed-down Win. "There's my beautiful star, my Stella," he calls out, jerking his head. "Get your cute ass over here, and let's celebrate, baby."

This night keeps getting better.

"I look cute, huh?" Win teases as you reluctantly tiptoe closer. "Like I'm you. All I need is a skirt."

You don't know how much longer you can keep playing along. "Win, we need to talk–"

He pours the champagne over two glasses, spilling a bit as he looks between you and the bottle. "I agree. We've got to talk contracts." A wide and knowing grin spreads across his face. "Just got the call—you're in, babe. You're gonna be a Goforth Girl. You got the gig."

You blink. "I what?"

Win chuckles. "Don't look so shocked. I've got a buddy over at Lumina. This one was a gimme. Not all of them will come this easy, but hey, it's your first big one, right?"

You sit before you keel over, swallowing hard as your stomach turns in slow waves. Disbelief, confusion, and the remnants of your indignation tangle together in a knot. Your first gig. A real one. Not some odd job handing out flyers in costume or paid-in-exposure promo modeling. A real commercial for a real company with real reach. Still. You need to say something.

"Yeah, but Win, we need to talk about your friend. Max? The creep at CynoSure? He, um, he told me–"

"We'll cover that, too." He brushes it off with a casual wave as he hands you the flute of champagne. "Got a form or two for you to sign in addition to some business about exclusive representation." He looms over you, ringed fingers twisting the stem of his glass.

You gape up at him, your head a mess from being pulled in so many directions in one night. It would be crazy, right? To say no now. Max's voice echoes in your head, steady and certain: Win's a high-value individual. The Goforths have enemies. You can't blame him for wanting to protect himself, to protect his family. If roles were reversed, wouldn't you? And if you're going to continue your…entanglement, isn't signing papers in your best interest, to protect yourself?

Win extends his drink. "You'll be a star. We'll make it happen."

We'll make it happen. What else can you say to that? To his complete confidence in you?

Your smile is a brittle thing warped into a crescent, and you watch it in the reflection of your glass as you lift it. "Well, to us, then."

The glasses clink, and you swallow a bitter sip. Win draws you back onto your sore feet for a prolonged kiss.

The slap of bare feet against the floor breaks the moment, eyes popping open as you make a noise into Win's mouth. Across the room, in the kitchen, Ghost reappears. Shirtless. He looks even bigger now, his back a hulking mass of muscle, ridiculous in its sheer width. Scars line his skin, some mods, some implants, but the rest speak to his chosen career. Black ink coils up his arm in a cluttered tattoo, and his skin's slick, the dampness of his blond hair suggesting he came from the shower.

Win pulls away, his mouth smudged with your lipstick.

"Ghost! Join us, we're celebrating! Grab a glass."

The behemoth pauses at the refrigerator, glaring. Despite his state of dress, he's taken the time to hook a cloth mask over his ears, one of which looks puffy. His brow furrows and his gaze shifts between you.

"No." He grinds out, voice low, and a shudder runs down your spine. He lumbers off, water in hand, and Win tuts in playful exasperation.

"Such a buzzkill. Now," His mouth skims your cheek, moving to your ear to whisper. "Where were we, baby?"

#like i'm winning it #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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hazbin-but-good · 10 months ago

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another hazbin hotel rewrite/redesign?

yup! and i'm so serious about it that i made a whole blog for it. i'm a white queer ex-cath tran doing this as an art and writing exercise, so feedback from other creatives + jewish and/or racialized folks is especially welcome.

i'm putting this post and only this post in the main tags for visibility. also, not gonna link my main, but i do make my own original stuff, and i encourage fans and haters alike to do the same.

anyway, here's a mostly good-faith 1.7k-word essay on the original. i think it's pretty funny and brings up some less talked-about points. correct me on the facts, disagree with my opinions, and ask clarifying questions, but don't come at me with any piss-poor reading comprehension.

the hellaverse is garbage, and here's why

cw: strong language, stronger opinions, intersectional feminist critical discourse analysis

1. vivienne medrano, the person

medrano was born as a well-off white-passing latina (salvadoran-american) in bougieass frederick, maryland. while attending new york's top art school, she got popular on deviantart-tumblr-twitter by being a prolific multifandom fujoshi furry who's more into ornamental character design than storytelling. upon graduation, she leveraged her fanbase and industry connections to make the hazbin and helluva boss pilots, get helluva made for youtube, and get hazbin made for amazon prime.

like every woman online, she gets harassed for no good reason, and as a certified autist, i will defend her right to be dumb, weird, annoying, and bad with words. however, there are legit reasons to criticize her:

racism, misogyny, homophobia, fatphobia, some antisemitism, past transphobia, past ableism

shitty boss, bad friend

cowardly, vindictive, manipulative, thoughtless behavior

skeevy friends

sucks at taking criticism

in short, i think she desperately needs a PR person and someone to clean up her digital footprint.

2. medrano's art

incurious

inauthentic

noncommittal

creatively stagnant

overindulgent, and the indulgence isn't even fun

shallow and childish framed as complex and mature

bland and boring framed as shocking and subversive

to be clear, i'm at peace with the existence of suckass art like this; i just think the money, attention, and praise it gets are unearned and should go to more interesting works, of which there are infinite.

medrano's had the time, money, and social cache to grow as an artist, learn from the best, and take creative risks, but she hasn't. if she truly has nothing more to offer, she should let her collaborators take the wheel, but she doesn't do that either. instead, she keeps getting more and more resources to make the same baby bullshit, and that pisses me off. she could be the nicest person ever, and this fundamental arrogance would still make her art blow.

stop with the pointless guilt: liking medrano's work does not make you stupid or evil. however, if you stay in the kiddie pool of culture, if you refuse to engage with a diversity of art, if the hellaverse is your point of reference for anything media-related, you can't expect to have your opinions on art, media, or culture taken seriously. you have not earned a seat at the table. you gotta hit the books first.

i cannot emphasize enough how much incredible stuff is out there if you're willing to look further than what social media and streaming services put right in front of you. if you come away from this blog having learned about just one new artist or piece of art, i'll be a happy camper.

3. the hellaverse

a. empty and confused

hazbin and helluva's content and marketing has no clear target audience. the subjects are inappropiate for teens, but the execution is too childish for adults, and lemme tell you what i don't mean by that, first.

not inherently inappropriate for teens:

sex and sexuality

violence, including when it intersects with the above

politics and religion

not inherently childish:

animation (any style)

comedy

episodic writing and/or loose continuity

young characters

fun, happiness, optimism, the power of friendship, cuteness, tenderness, sincerity, etc.

what i mean is that these shows are literally about adult characters who fuck, smoke, drink, do drugs, go clubbing, work full-time, manage their own finances, and deal with stuff like bureaucracy, sexual violence, domestic abuse, marriage, divorce, late adoption, and family estrangement.

however, none of these "adult" things are given enough specificity to create drama or comedy. it's all too stock, vague, flat, weirdly sanitized, and thus utterly banal—pure aesthetics on top of bad saturday morning cartoons. it's exactly what i'd expect from a sheltered disney kid who needs to log off and get into their local gay scene ASAP so their only contact with things like poverty, policing, addiction, and sex work stops being facile movies and TV.

if the shows were aware of this and played with it, that could be amazing, but they're not. they give you the mickey mouse version of the world with a straight face and then play looney tunes sound effects to try to make you laugh and sad_violin.mp3 to try to make you cry. now that's funny.

b. old and tired

let's make like americans and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist. even within the confines of the USA, home of the hays code, the red scare, and reaganite propaganda, this neopuritan fascist state ruled by 1000 megachurches in a trenchcoat, the indie/underground animation scene has been doing crazier shit for decades. anti-war films in the 60's, bakshi movies in the 70's, the simpsons shorts and r-rated movies in the 80's, adult swim and MTV in the 90's, flash/newgrounds/youtube in the 00's, streaming in the 2010's—so what are we doing in the 2020's with this wet white rice drowned in expired ketchup? i feel crazy making this point because it's obvious if you've watched these things, but if you haven't, you're gonna be like "well, there's gotta be something new here". no! there isn't! in the words of jimmy "the scot" jordan, nothing, nothing, NOTHING!

c. ideological purgatory

actually, there is one thing in these shows i've never seen before: the presbysterianism. shout out some interesting or at least intentional presbysterian art in the comments, because the way these ideas are presented here is not compelling. it just makes the rainbow neoliberalism even more confusing and contradictory.

i guess the big presbysterian things are protestanism, calvinism, and, uh, big church government? presbysterians, get your shit together. get your brand down. catholics have BDSM and vampires, evangelicals have TV and corporatism; what do you have? celtic crosses? no wonder medrano has such uninspired ideas on divinity.

d. queer deficiency

when i look at a piece of art, i ask myself: "what does this give me that i can't get from the hunchback of notre dame (1996)?" if the answer is as limp as "uhh, gay people, i guess", i can probably look for my gay shit elsewhere and rewatch the hunchback of notre dame (1996) in the meantime.

but let's say that you have no standards. you've been waiting for ages for a show about gays by the gays for the gays, and by god you're gonna get it. this is it! here we go! time for some

generic twink obliteration

male sexuality as aggression and dominance displays

WLW (sex and chemistry not included)

a couple straight femdoms

and the stalest sex jokes known to man

...yeah, it's not very queer. and by "queer", i mean "questioning or subverting gender norms (including sexual roles) within a given cultural context regardless of creator identity and intent". i'm not a queer studies scholar so LMK if there's a more specific term for this, but whatever you call it, it's not in the hellaverse much.

there's not even any transness, literal or metaphorical, just ancient drag jokes. i guess the writers thought we would've been too controversial. so much for an indie animation studio that prides itself in the diversity of its staff both above and below the line, bakshi-style. i wonder how medrano, a bisexual woman, would've felt if told that a lesbian main couple in hazbin would be "too controversial".

4. spindlehorse and the vivziepop brand

spindlehorse toons underpays its overworked staff and keeps outsourcing more and more labor to even more overworked freelancers overseas to cut costs. a rainbow sweatshop is still a sweatshop, and just because these practices may be "industry standard" doesn't make them any more ethical.

the studio has also been repeatedly accused by current and former employees and contractors of creating a hostile and abusive workplace. AFAIK, it still has no dedicated HR person, and victims are too afraid of retaliation like blacklisting and online harassment to speak out.

this is exactly the stuff that unions exist to prevent. as i'm writing this, the IATSE (the parent union of TAG, which is the parent union of all US animation unions) is negotiating with entertainment industry executives for better working conditions, and if the execs fuck around like last year, it's strike time again. so watch this space, voice your support, and don't cross any picket lines.

i hope spindlehorse unionizes, but until then and for these reasons, i don't think you should give money to the company.

first of all, all content on amazon-owned platforms is ok to pirate, and all youtube ads are ok to block. everyone involved in making the episodes has (or should have) been paid upfront, so you're not taking the bread out of anyone's mouth.

next, let's look at the succulent offerings of the official vivziepop merch shop:

$10 pins and keychains

$15 sticker packs

$20 mugs and acrylic cutouts

$25 shirts

$30 metal cards (not even tarot)

$40 lounge pants

$50 mini backpacks

random $80 skateboard deck

forgive my latin americanness, but this is all stuff you can get made by a local metalsmith, print/sublimation shop, or just crafty people in your life. it's cheaper, customizable, and better for the environment to skip all the shipping and packaging. also, not painting your own skateboard is poser shit.

the hazbin website also has $15 pins, one $20 keychain, and $6 trading card packs. people are weird about trading cards, so if for some reason you wanna gamble for a mass-produced bit of cardboard, plastic, and tinfoil, at least bulk-order for all the vivziepoppers in your area so it's less of a huge waste. better yet, trace the designs and make infinite bootlegs.

at the end of the day, buying merch is not activism. your bulk order of trading cards will not save any wage slaves from getting evicted from their overpriced studio apartments. however, the shop links you to all the credited artists/designers, and more of your bucks will actually reach them if you buy their designs directly, then turn them into body pillows or life-sized bronze statues or whatever the fuck.

go through the credits of any episode of helluva or hazbin, and you'll find even more creatives you might wanna support. get jinkx monsoon's albums on CD. subscribe to actually good artist, animator, and composer gooseworx. lots of voice actors now have patreon, cameo, or self-hosted pages where you can write better lines for their characters and have them read it. these things may not look as shiny as Official Merch™, but we all need less plastic shit and more culture anyway.

#spindlehorse #vivziepop #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #spindlehorse critical #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel redesign #helluva boss redesign #communism #degrowth

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eydi-andrius · 7 months ago

Note

Yayyyy... I love you 😭💗... you accepted my request 😭💗 I love your stories sooooooo muchhhhhhh 😭💗 (I'm a writer too btw)

HEART GOT TEETH (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Synopsis: How does it feel to be hunted?

a/n: I'm so sorry it took a long while for this. I was just not confident enough but i hope you will enjoy this one. I am still experimenting with the professor Gojo one still, on which you first requested, but this story was born from writing that. I kind of think you'd love to read this. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: 18+, MINORS DNI, NON-CON, DARK GOJO, DARK! READER, bullying, stalking, obsession, violence, kidnapping, sexual assault, illegal filming or recording of sexual intercourse, DARK SMUT, blackmailing and let me know if I forgot any tags

Gojo is used to being the smartest on campus. Not until late in semester, a transferee was given the opportunity to move due to her academic achievements.

He hated her.

He picked up on everything she does. Detest the way she strides with confidence, unbothered, and powerful.

Of course…..She's not as smart as him. But somehow, people liked her better.

Not that he cared.

Professors who are usually tight lipped whenever he debates them, are very kind and nice to her. They seemed approachable and open whenever she conversed with them.

Classmates who scurry away whenever he is around, greets her with a smile whenever she passes by them. She even earned the nickname “sunshine” because a gloomy room will light up when she’s around.

It was an anomaly. She doesn't belong here. Your existence is unwanted. He dislikes how an outsider such as you was able to get the attention away from him so easily.

His hatred started off with a normal rolling of eyes when he caught sight of you. Bad mouthing you the moment anyone uttered your name. Embarrassing you in front of the class if you show a teeny tiny mistake. However, none of those work and weirdly enough, you still smile at him purely.

That attitude angered him more.

It didn’t even occur to him, that his hatred heightened and it turned into a full-blown obsession, that stalking you became a habit.

He is checking your socials for any updates, your shares and stories religiously. His ears will perk up if other people mention your name, and he will immediately tune in to whatever they were talking about— especially, if related to you. He will even check in the campus portal or the google drives related to your files just to judge whatever you passed to the professor.

Geto Suguru, his best friend, obviously noticed the change in his behavior but he was glad that he didn't comment further about it.

Sometimes, he knows Geto will deliberately mention your name and where you are currently. He would respond with a grumble and scrunched up nose, berating his friend for uttering a witch’s name. Yet, he will catch himself standing in the area that was mentioned. And he feels alive, when he purposely bumps to your shoulder, almost toppling you backward, and you would profusely apologize for being clumsy, bowing repeatedly in shame.

It didn't even occur to him that what he was doing was wrong. Harassing a girl for absolutely just existing seems like a problem to himself and not something she should apologize for.

One day, luck must've on his side. He was getting paranoid because he has a feeling that you’ll get higher grades than him this semester. The knock on his door startled him, especially when he opened the door and it was your face that popped up on the other side.

It seems like your laptop is having an issue. You tried everything you can find online but nothing fixes it. You came to his dorm because Geto recommended and assured you that Gojo can fix it for you.

Cursing his bff, he almost turned down your request…… when an idea flashed on his head. His ire vanished, and an evil, unfair plan formed in his mind.

He could use this opportunity to spy on you. He can check your grade and track your whereabouts and see what you're up to — to make sure you are not sabotaging him, of course.

And that he did.

You were all smiles, grateful and happy, when your laptop came back, fixed and working better than before. He watched as your eyes glinted, almost tearing up, when he reassured you that he doesn't need no fee.

He let you go on your merry way without knowing that he got you. He now has access to your laptop and everything inside of it.

—-

Gojo could have sworn that he heard his skull crack from that strong hit he received on his head, while he was standing outside waiting for Geto.

He received a text from him to sneak out and do something more worthwhile, than faking smiles, and joining the retreat for the seniors.

Although he doesn't want to go out, he’d rather do something else than be surrounded by morons, to whom the only advantage they have is being born earlier.

He was minding his own business. Patiently waiting, when a hardwood suddenly came out of nowhere, and made contact on his head. His ears rang, vision blurry, he was feeling dizzy, and saw footsteps coming his way, before he completely lost consciousness.

—

With a throbbing head, and a body sore, he felt like the pain was killing him. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and saw himself in some sort of a shed made out of bamboo.

He tried to open his mouth, to scream or ask for help but he was far too dizzy and weak to voice out his concern. He winces when he tries moving his head, looking for a comfortable position, the throbbing got worse, and he tried to lift his hand to assist on his head, when he realized that he can't move his hands, and it was tied behind the chair he was sitting at.

After a moment, he tried his voice again, he could only croak syllables, and grit his teeth when he felt how dry and parched his throat was.

Closing his eyes, and with the pain all over his body he did not notice when the door opened, and he jolted when someone sat on his lap, pinching his chin to look up. Forcefully opening his mouth, by grabbing his cheeks.

A bottle of iced cold water was given to his mouth. He felt the invasive cool liquid run down his dry throat, and coughs when the person who forced him to drink does not care if he could drown by titling the bottle without stopping or resting, for him to be able to drink it all at his own pace.

He forcefully moved his face away on the stranger's hold, and was looking down and coughing, when he felt the person on his lap uttered “good boy” deregatoridly while slapping his cheek loudly.

He looked up, and all colors went out of his face for a second when realized who the person in front of him was.

Your furious eyes were tuned on him, even with a playful smirk gracing your lips, it couldn't erase your pulsating anger.

His initial shock soon turned into boiling anger, when he understood that the most likely suspect of his kidnapping was no other than you.

He started screaming profanities, calling you a bitch, and derogatory names, as he tried to forcefully remove his bindings.

Instead of being offended by his words you only chuckled at him. This only made him angrier.

“You bitch! Even if you kill me right now, you will never become the Summa cum laude! You’re too stupid for that!” His insulting words slowly turned sharply and deadlier, and he thought his words finally got under your skin after he watched as your eyes widened in surprise, mouth agape, slowly blinking at him. It looks like you were shell shocked from what he had said.

He smirked at that, feeling like he was winning, at least before you smiled and started laughing hysterically, which stilled and confused him.

“HAHAHA! So sorry for laughing at that.” She apologized, using her finger to stop her tears of delight.

“Damn, Satoru. You are all tied up. Helpless and all on my mercy, and the only thing you could come up with, the reason why I am doing this, was me envying you for getting something you deserve because you are smarter than me? I am not that petty.” You clarified after a big sigh.

She looks amused as she watches his brows furrowed, eyes filled with confusion, as he tries to understand what exactly he did to be treated like this.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll spill.” You said, raising your hands up in surrender. You purposely grind on his crotch, hard. Making him wince in pain from the friction. You felt his dick hardened a little, poking you, and you jeered in disgust at that. All men truly are the same.

“Tell me, Satoru. What did you put in my laptop?” You said in a sing-song tune. As if caught red handed, his eyes widened, and his mouth closed and opened up, trying to come up with something.

“Nah! You don't have to answer that. I already know that it was you who put spyware on it. You disgusting, motherfucker. If you wanted to get someone's pussy, you could always just yell on campus, and the girls would flock in front of you, like starving hyenas. They will serve themselves for you to eat them whole. You don't even need to pay them.” Scratching your scalp, in annoyance, you continued.

“Did you know that almost put my sister in danger? I thought my abusive fucking father finally caught up with my younger sister and he planted those spywares, to spy on us. Thank God! I was smart enough to realize that the possibility of that was low, especially, since he is too stupid to think that way. And there is no other person in my life that could have done that, except you, who fixed my laptop for free. Like why are you so obsessed with me?” Disgust was written all over your face as you looked down on him. You were visibly shaking, face red from anger.

“Dream on!” Gojo spat back at your allegations and you can't help but chuckle at that. In anger, you grab his face, and squeeze it tight.

“Listen, you jerk! Do you think I do not know that you have been targeting me for absolutely no reason at all? Those accidental bumps when you're walking, your not so subtle insults when I made a small mistake and many more. I know. I know that you meant to crush my spirits with that. But you know, I was used to getting bullied and really doesn't mind what you’re up to, even though it was unfair. I told myself that I just need to graduate in two years so it wouldn't matter. I don't have to meet you again after that, anyway.” You stopped for a moment licking your lips. Eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Yet, you made the absolute, most horrifying mistake, of dragging my sister in this.” You continued, breathing labored from pent up anger.

“You see this?” You moved a bit and pulled out something from your pocket. It was your phone, and you showed that it was recording.

“I’ll fuck you and we will record it. I don't usually do blackmailing on a reg, but it was you who started this so, goodluck with that.” With gritted teeth, you declared war, and you grinned when you saw how fear flickered on his eyes, and his face turned ashen, and he started thrashing, not caring if his binds bites on his skin.

“But before that!” You clapped and pulled out a cloth and forcefully covered his mouth. “I don't like you calling me names. You sick, fuck.” Gojo tried to put his head on the side, to run away from his mouth being covered, but due to his limited movements, she was able to shut him up. Cloth digging on his cheeks on how tight it was.

Chuckling, you stood up and placed your phone on the prompt up stand on the side, directly in front of Gojo. He was breathing heavily as you watched him on the screen, still trying to untie himself. You saw blood now trickling down on his tied wrists.

“Tsk tsk. Don't do that if you're hurting yourself. I promise you’ll enjoy this.” Cooing, you slowly undress in front of him, making sure that the discarding of your clothes was caught on camera.

When you're finally bare in front of him. He stopped thrashing around and his eyes were only tuned in on yours refusing to look down.

What a gentleman.

Positioning yourself on all fours, you started crawling seductively at him, and you did not miss how his skin prickled, not sure if he was scared or enjoying the show you have for him.

When you're right below him, you squeeze his knee, and he starts thrashing again, stronger this time, as you painstakingly slowly reach for his zipper. Undoing it and freeing his semi hard dick.

Grinning to piss him off, you grab his member carefully and licked the tip, like how you're licking an ice cream on a sunny day.

You felt how his body shivered from the contact and his breathing labored as he stared down at you. Long lashes fluttering, eyes hardened.

You moved your hand up and down, and licked his shaft, teasing him, as you moved your hips performing in front of the camera.

You moved a bit forward and you heard him groan when you finally put him inside your mouth, with a slurp, you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks as you moved your mouth up and down his cock, enough to make him feel but not enough to cum.

You watched as he bit the cloth covering his mouth to stop himself from making any noise. And do everything in his power to stop his instinct from enjoying what you're doing for him. One wrong move, however, he pistoned himself upwards, which caused his dick to go deeper in your throat, and you involuntarily gagged at the sudden intrusion. You felt how his member twitched, enjoying the feel of your mouth on his veiny dick. Staring at his eyes, you know he loved the power he had in that small moment.

You chuckle a bit at that, the vibration causing him to twitch some more, and with a pop you let him go. His cock fully hardened, ready, red and wet from both his precum and your saliva.

Standing up, you turned your back on his face and sat on his lap. Using your finger, you open your fold, and grind your pearl on his dick, to tease him. Your other hand on your breast, playing with nipples and massaging your mound.

Satisfied on the way he groaned, and stopped cursing at you, you gave him a reward by plunging down slowly on his dick, he whimpered, mouth shut, lying to himself about not liking the way your gummy slowly molding his cock inside of you. You only squeezed him tighter, when you were a bit surprised at how deep he had gone.

You never had a dick this big before. You felt so full, and touching your belly, you can feel the shape of him.

“Satoru, I can feel you here. See?” You asked naively, looking back at him, as you squeezed him tighter and the guttural groan he let out was music to your ears.

You smiled evilly at that and started moving your hips up and down, both your hands, playing with your breast.

“Ummm…I’m doing well, right, Satoru? Is this what you want? Oh god, you're so big.” You continue to lie as you move, performing, and admittedly loving your power. Makijgvsure the video will show that Gojo consented to this.

“Please please please….touch me, Satoru. I understand that you wanted to be binded and silent but I need your touch, hmmmm?” You pretended to ask, as you looked back on his helpless face, looking pathetic, red and sweat dripping from his forehead. He looks dazed and unfocus.

“Alright, if you insist, I guess, I’ll cum by riding you on my own.” Pouting before looking back on the camera, you started increasing your pace, you know he is now close, as his voice deepened and his whimpers louder. You acted and started telling him that you’re close, he is good, and he is hitting your sensitive spot, to throw him off.

It was soon after when you felt his dick violently twitch and you felt how he came inside of you. Warmth seeping in your core and painting your walls white. You whined at that and you squeezed his knee as you looked back at the camera.

“You told me, you will not come inside.” You said, almost crying.

“What? You want some more? But I’m already tired.” At this time, you had faced him, you thinned your voice, acting cutely, but your face says otherwise. You smirked down at him. On Satoru who looks dazed and red, dick is still twitching and hard, even after just cumming.

#eydi andrius #fic: heart got teeth #dark fic #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #dark gojo satoru #dark reader #dark!gojo satoru x dark!reader #new fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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webshooterrr9 · 11 months ago

Text

My Hero

Delinquent!Miguel x fem!reader

CW: brief mention of sexual harassment, but don't worry Mig saves her, light smut but nothing too explicit, mainly just these two arguing with each other, mostly just tension

Word Count: 1.4k words

Lmk if y'all want a part 2 🤭

art credits in alt text!!

“Can you just fuck off?”

“What’s the matter, baby?” the guy said. This creep would not leave you alone. You’re just heading back to your apartment, and all of a sudden this creep decides it’s a good idea to follow you home. You should’ve never decided to take a walk. “You don’t want me? I thought we had a good thing going, shawty.”

“I told you to leave me alone. I’m not interested.” you were getting fed up now. Why can’t he just take the hint? You scoffed and tried walking away, but the creep grabbed your arm.

“Hey!” he said, turning you to face him. “Don’t be a bitch, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“What the hell is going on here?”

You and the creep turned to see a tall, dark-haired punk approach you two. He was wearing a black band tee with tattoos all up and down his muscular arms.

As the man approached you, the creep let go of your arm. “H-hey man, this isn’t any of your business.”

The tall stranger crossed his arms, towering over you two. “Actually, it is my business - seeing as you’re standing right in front of my building.”

You knew this guy, your friend pointed him out as someone in the neighborhood to avoid back when you first moved in. Miguel O’hara, a known delinquent on this secluded side of town. This must’ve been the apartment building he lived in.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to step away from this lady, or we’re gonna have problems, cabrón.” Miguel said, sizing up the much smaller man before him.

“Oh yeah? What kind of problems, tough guy?” the creep replied with confidence much bigger than him - an idiot move. Miguel grabbed the man by his shirt, pulling him close to his face.

“Get outta here, chico. I won’t ask again.” he snarled, getting all up in the guy’s face. The look in Miguel’s eyes was that of a lion, chasing a hyena away from its prey that it found first.

The creep, despite being so cocky earlier, seemed to have lost all his confidence. He pushed Miguel’s arms away and Miguel dropped him. He knew that the delinquent wasn’t messing around.

Miguel scowled. The guy who was harassing you ran away. You were in awe, you thought Miguel was a bad guy, so why did he just protect you?

He turned around to face you, his large frame intimidating. "You alright?"

You froze in silence, not sure what to say to him. He scoffed. "Giving me the silent treatment, huh? Some way to treat your savior, muñeca." Miguel crossed his arms.

"Sorry," you say, regaining your focus. "You, uh, you're Miguel, right?"

You had never been in this situation before. Never needed saving, especially not by someone with as bad a reputation as him. You weren’t quite sure if you should thank him, or if he'd even want that.

“Yeah, that’s me.” you would've thought that someone who just saved you would look a little happier to see you, but he just glared at you like you were a nuisance. Maybe you woke him up from a nap.

“You know, I don’t just do that for anyone.” he commented.

"I figured," you were just standing there awkwardly, not sure how to reply to his sharp tone. You couldn't tell if he was fishing for a “thank you” or not.

"So then why did you, uh, scare him away? You could've just left me to handle it." you couldn't hide your curiosity as to why Miguel protected you from that guy. You had never even met him before, but you knew he wasn't nice to most people… so why you?

"Just protecting a pretty girl, what's so surprising?" Miguel had a smirk on his face. He was definitely fishing for a compliment. He looked you up and down with a hint of flirtatiousness.

You noticed his not-so-subtle stare, and shifted to a more defensive stance. “Well, you don't seem the type to do such a thing. Your reputation doesn't exactly give the 'gentleman' vibe."

"Besides, this isn't the 1950's anymore, I'm not a damsel in distress." you add, gaining more snark as the conversation goes on.

"Oh, so you're assuming that I'm incapable of being nice, preciosa?" Miguel was getting just a little bit annoyed. Usually, most people were too intimidated by him to talk back, so he was taken aback that you weren't. "I don't care what my reputation is, I'm being nice to you because I feel like it." He stepped closer to you, sizing you up with his eyes once more.

"I didn't say you were incapable... it's just unexpected, that's all." The closer he got to you, the more you realized just how much he towered over you. You weren’t even short for a girl, but he was huge.

You lowered your defensiveness, trying not to pick a fight that you knew you couldn't win. "... thank you for that, I guess. It was kind."

"I didn't need it, though."

He rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re hot.” a smirk crossed his face. “But that doesn’t mean this ‘nice guy’ act is gonna happen more than once.”

"It won't have to; I'm not gonna get into a situation like that again, so I doubt I'll need your heroics."

This time, it was your turn to cross your arms. "Besides, you haven't exactly been pleasant company. I don't need more than one interaction with you."

The look in his eyes told you that he took that as a challenge, that he wasn't about to back down. But he also didn't seem the type to overstep his boundaries. He was confident, not creepy.

"Oh, I'm not pleasant to be around? I'm not pleasant to look at either, right?" Miguel chuckled to himself.

"That's too bad- I could've saved you from the next creep that comes around, princesa." He liked messing with you, and seeing your feisty attitude come out. He was definitely trying to get you riled up.

"I didn't say you weren't pleasant to look at." you reply, standing a bit taller than before. He raised an eyebrow, flattered by the indirect compliment.

"I'm just saying that I wouldn't meet you again, if given the choice. Other than saving my ass back there, you've been pretty rude."

"Rude? Me? Never." Miguel feigned shock. "I wonder what's got you being so feisty today, mami.”

"You know nothing about me, this is normal." you say, picking up some confidence. "You're not getting any special treatment."

“Hmm… maybe I want some special treatment.” he leans in a bit closer to you, dropping his voice to a lower tone. You could see the devious spark in his eyes, something playful and challenging. He was testing you, to see how far you’d let him go before brushing him off. And you almost wanted to. But God, the way he looked at you made your stomach flutter in a way it hadn’t in a long time, not since your last ex. And even then, your last boyfriend wasn’t as wild as Miguel seemed to be.

“Some special treatment, huh?” you reply, matching his energy and leaning up towards him. Your faces were only inches away now. “And what exactly were you thinking?”

A large grin spreads across his face. “Why don’t you come inside, mami? I’ll show you.”

---

“Fuck… Miguel..!”

The sounds of his headboard banging against the wall was sure to disturb the neighbors, but he clearly didn’t give a shit.

“It’s… ‘s too much!” you were panting, arms held tight above your head with one of his large hands, while the other toyed with your clit. His legs separated yours, allowing him to pound into you at a punishing pace.

“Shh, bonita… I’m almost there… jus’ a little more, muñeca, un poquito más…”

You already came once, and you could feel your second orgasm approaching with every roll of his hips. He was desperately chasing his release, sweat causing his gorgeous hair to stick to his forehead.

You'd swear you were seeing stars. “M-Mig…” even with a condom, you could feel how hot and thick his cock was, practically begging to spill into your warmth.

Your back arched as your second peak came crashing over you, and the contractions from your cunt was enough to send him over the edge. As your legs shook, your head fell back - Miguel caught it before it hit against the headboard.

“Don’t worry, hermosa. I’ve got you.”

#webshooterrr9 #miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x you #i miss him #astarion and miguel have my heart #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader

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pinkyjulien · 1 year ago

Text

I really, really hate the "Female V is canon" vs "Male V is canon" debate that been popping here and here in the tags those past weeks

Cyberpunk 2077 is a Role Playing Game, there is no "canon" protagonist, that's the whole point. We all have a different playstyles, different stories and headcanons, our custom V is The Canon V of Our Own playthroughs!

After Phantom Liberty dropped, I've seen a lot of players, on Tumblr or Twitter, voicing their concerne and disappointment in how much more Female V focused the official promo, videos and even in-game credits became

I was one of them too, expressing my feelings multiple times, sometimes awkwardly, frustrated that Male V players were once again brushed to the side, because that's how it feels like, right?

Well, it might feels like it, but this isn't the case AT ALL, far from it. This is only what I would call a "Fandom Phenomenon" and I want to talk more about it a bit

I had a great conversation with a friend of mine who works in the game industry and it opened my eyes on the matter, and I've since been really interested in seeing RPGs statistics!

Because it's really, really important to make the difference between the Casual Player Base (majority of players) and the Fans / Fandom Base (minority of players)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I always been lurking in fandoms here on Tumblr, since Mass Effect, Dragon Age, and now with Cyberpunk 2077 and Baldur's Gate 3

First I want to drop some stats- might be completly wrong, but I'm only sharing my point of view here, in an attempt to explain why some people are frustrated with Female V being the focus (and why we shouldn't be!)

I think it's not wrong to say that fandoms are mostly occupied by women and fem-identifying individuals; fandoms are a safe place for players and fans to share their passions. Women are STILL HEAVILY harassed and hated in the gaming industry as a whole, it doesn't take a lot of digging to catch a vile comment on Twitter or on Twitch for example, you cannot go far without seeing someone either attacking or sexualizing them

This is a huge problem in the industry still, every games that release with a female protagonist get trashed- just look at the bullshit surrounding GTA 6 just because players will be able to play as a woman as an option

Fandoms are also safe for non-gender conforming people, non-binaries, trans people and queer men, but I think fem individuals and women are a clear majority, at least on Tumblr (only talking about genders identity here and not about being queer or not, not talking about sexualities or attraction) (not an official stat at all and only my point of view and experience from being on Tumblr since ~2012)

Now let's talk about Cyberpunk 2077- because this is my main fandom since 2020, and what prompted me to write this post in the first place

CDPR didn't share any stats recently, but it's REALLY SAFE to assume the MAJORITY of players are playing a straight Male V romancing Panam, followed by a lesbian Female V romancing Judy, but the player pools for both options are still majoritarly cis hetero men (and they are still the focus for AAA studios to sell their games, this is sadly just how it is)

However on the fandom side, Fem V was always the focus; virtual photography, mods, ships, OCs... She was always more popular than Male V, getting more interactions and notes and why trends like "Male V monday" were created and why there is still a lack of male V focused mods (non-binaries and trans fem folks and characters are also sadly under-represented in all type of content and art)

So, being yourself as a non-fem player, playing as a Masc V, seeing CDPR officially make the switch from Male V to Female V, when the space you've been in for the past 3 years has been overwhelmingly Female V focused on all front, was a bit of a punch in the guts; like I said earlier, I was reaaally frustrated with this too!

And I'd say it's "normal"? or at least "ok" to feel this way, it makes sense considering how little attention Male V in general get in the fans community

BUT. BUT... It's REALLY important here to realize how we sound and how we look like when we voice our frustrations on the matter; we sound and look just like all the misogynistic people over on Twitter who screams about "woke games" everytime there is a female protagonist in their "non political games". We have to remember that fandoms are suuuch a small part of the game industry

Baldur's Gate 3 recently shared their stats and this interesting tweet got into my dash

▶ tweet

Astarion is nowhere to be seen in the official most romanced companions statistic, but I'm sure a lot of people will agree that he's probably the most popular one in the fandom side!

Another stat here from Mass Effect and really interesting info coming from David Gaider about how the hardcore fanbase aka fandom's choices were WILDLY different from the casual / main player pool

▶ tweet

Getting my head out of the fandom bubbles and seeing the bigger picture, how much under-represented women still are in official medias (not talking about fan content) and how insanly misoginistic the game industry still is, both on the player and devs sides, helped me handle my own frustration on the matter, accept and even celebrate Female V being the focus for the Phantom Liberty campaign

With all that said tho, we all should be able to vent about the lack of Male, Masc and Non-Binary content in the fandom side, while still being aware of the industry state, it CAN co-exist! It doesn't make anyone a bad or misogynist person!

We are all humans and can be awkward and make mistakes, especially when voicing frustration or talking while in a negative mood. Let's educate one another in good-faithed manners when we slip instead of jumping to conclusion and throw accusations

Not gonna lie I kind of lost my train of thoughts and not sure how to finish this post, but I hope this can enlight some people on why CDPR made this choice!

Repeating this as a finale note; this doesn't mean that Female V is the "main" V or "canon" V . It's simply her time to shine, and it's well deserved! The industry needs it

#cyberpunk 2077 #phantom liberty #text #long post #like- LONG LONG post hgfhgf #hope my rambling makes sense #I legit been really interested in reading these statistics #hope CDPR will drop a similar sheet since the Ultimate edition is out :O #blah blah

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lurkingshan · 10 months ago

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Jazz For Two

What an absolute mess of a show. What a muddled message about family and intimate partner violence and abuse. What a nonsensical progression of scenes masquerading as a story.

I have been scratching my head about this one all the way through, but today's final episodes really took the cake. There are so many problems with this show that I could break down in great detail, but the biggest problem as a piece of storytelling is that nothing the characters do makes any sense. Let me illustrate this by describing the progression of Seheon and Taeyi's arc in episode 7 in four scenes:

Taeyi reacts to Seheon's kiss with violent homophobia, calling him slurs and sexually harassing him as a form of mockery

Taeyi feels bad, goes to the piano room, plays a tune, says he's sorry and kisses him, all while Seheon passively lets it happen

Taeyi puts his arm around Seheon, flirts, and struts around the school hallway with him, looking very much like a couple

Taeyi jokes around and tries to kiss Seheon in the piano room

All of this happened within 15 minutes of screen time, with no connective tissue between these scenes to explain the huge change in Taeyi that occurred overnight, or give any agency to Seheon as this boy alternately abuses and hits on him. Homophobia has been a huge and looming threat throughout this show, but suddenly Taeyi is just fine openly flirting with him and Seheon is fine with being attacked one day and kissed the next.

And don't even get me started on the side couple, where we have a character who inexplicably loves someone who has been violently homophobic toward him, as well as assaulting others both physically and sexually in front of him. In episode 8 we learn that Taeyi's brother also loved a boy (Seheon's brother) who rejected him cruelly due to internalized homophobia. Every single pairing in this show is a dynamic of the abused party inexplicably desiring someone who has abused them. I don't understand why any of them like each other, and I straight up don't believe most of these scenes. There is no consistency either internally to the scenes or as part of a narrative through line, and the characters just do whatever the story decides it's time for them to do regardless of whether it makes any emotional sense. And all of this is playing out alongside a story of familial abuse with no apparent idea of what the story is trying to communicate by putting these plots next to each other. The show doesn't even bother to interrogate this before jumping to a bizarrely shoehorned in noble idiocy/romcom run resolution for the main romance that doesn't fit with anything that came before it, and then jumping to a music festival and montages of the two couples hanging out and making music together as if this has been a show about a nice group of friends in a jazz band all along.

And let me tell you, I wish that had been the show we got. I know this was adapted from a webtoon, but it seems it's quite a mess of an adaptation that took an already dark and dicey story and rendered it nonsensical by messing with the pacing and sequencing of events. I very much do not recommend watching, and between this and the strange mess that became of A Shoulder To Cry On, I will be giving this production company extreme side eye going forward.

#jazz for two #korean bl #shan shouts into the void

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zuko-always-lies · 11 months ago

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Hey, as a long viewer of your anti iroh posts, which, as a person who just recently watched ATLA, I have a very controversial theory/headcanon based on my knowledge of general psychology (not a psychologist so disregard if incorrect) and perspective of Iroh's character and by the attitude of his fans that can possibly get me hate messages and even death threats. So I came to the conclusion that Iroh expresses an uncomfortable character of NPD or particularly a certain "sub" that you will, being Benevolent/Vulnerable Narcissim.

Iroh loves to present himself as "wise, kind and fatherly," but his actions showcase the total opposite, and his supposed identity appears far more shallow and self-centred. He never properly mentors or shows to really know Zuko. Instead, he simply uses Zuko to serve as his act of penance, which is why he never meaningfully teaches Zuko to become a better person or to realise that his father is at fault and that his sister is not his real enemy. But no, instead, he lays off to do the bare minimum. He shows less to no remorse for Zuko's predicament that was caused by him for not standing up to his brother when he was banished. Nor does Iroh show any for Zuko's victims. Instead, Iroh operates under the mindset that supporting Zuko and making him Firelord will accomplish his penance. His lack of care for Azula is precisely because she is an obstacle not just for Zuko but for his "penance" as well.

It's also interesting the lack of self-awareness that Iroh has. He calls Azula crazy for doing what he did for decades. The only difference is that Azula genuinely cares for her nation while Iroh doesn't really care except his glory. He sent his son to the front lines to fight his own battles for him, which isn't that different from Ozai's treatment of Azula and Zuko. Oh, and at the finale, what does he do? Send Zuko and Katara into danger while abandoning them to satisfy his selfish desire. Of course, as you mentioned, he also doesn't live up to his own "wisdom" instead using that wisdom to appear smart and confuse others. Because in all honesty, Zuko NEVER applies any of Iroh's suppose wisdom because Iroh doesn't ever think to teach BLUNTLY to Zuko, like any basic teacher can look at Iroh and already have their hands in their face, but of course the further issue is that instead of applying basic healthy logic, Iroh instead utilises the toxic sibling rivalry to manipulate Zuko into becoming his "perfect" son. Zuko becomes a better person despite Iroh not because of him, Zuko's "metamorphosis" (aka breakdown) is the best example of how unhealthy Iroh's parenting is.

Iroh is also shameless when it comes to his mistakes. He never feels guilt or apologises to June for his blatant sexual harassment. He has no shame for being friends with the Rough Rhinos or assisting Zhao in the further conquest and bloodshed of the Northen Water Tribe. He never thinks or comes clean with his crimes against the Earth Kingdom, instead choosing to profit off the very same people he victimised. He never apologises to Zuko for being a shitty mentor/Uncle.

Iroh reminds me of ALOT of narcissistic so called "benevolent" or "vulnerable" people who will appear kind and even express self hatred but only for further validation and without taking risks or responsibility whatsoever for their mistakes, instead blaming others or doing "good" little things to create a narrative that they are "saints" and that people who disagree or despise them are "crazy or evil".

This might be far-fetched, but when you consider that to this day, the majority of ATLA fans have been juiced in this narrative that Iroh = 50 year old warmonger is a Saint who should be worshipped and that Zuko should be "thankful and grateful" of said Iroh, and that Azula = 14 year old abused child soldier who did the least messed up things and is the youngest member is demonised for being "crazy" and even Aang gets treated inferior to Iroh, well it already feels right at home with typical narcissistic narratives

I've had similar thoughts myself, but I really don't like applying medical diagnoses to fictional characters living in a very different society, so I never quite articulated them. Certainly Iroh seems to be an extraordinarily self-centered person who puts major effort into pretending not be so self-centered.

#anti Iroh #anti-Iroh

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urproblematicfav-arsonk · 1 month ago

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ok you made good points for the most part but something in your helluva post confuses me: how in the world has stolas been "sexually abusing octavia the entire series"?

going off of the definition of sexual abuse (rape, assault, trafficking, molestation, coercion, etc.) i cannot think of anything that even remotely points to evidence of that.

surely, SURELY you aren't claiming that just because he said something sexual on the phone in front of her? not even TO her or ABOUT her? that's a misstep for sure, but going so far as to call that sexual abuse is... just not correct.

maybe if he did it on purpose or specifically because she was around, but to me it reads like he forgot she was there and got caught up in the phone conversation. there's no evidence that it happened more than once either, so "the whole series" is a biiig stretch.

i REALLY hope that specific moment isn't what you mean, because that's the kind of claim that really softens the meaning of the term... but i really can't think of anything else that even suggests it.

I feel like theres definitely a way to say "Hey! We seem to disagree on this interpretation of this show! I have no fucking idea where you are coming from, can you explain?" Without turning it into a...definition....of rape.......to the rape victim........and also accusing said rape victim of "softening" language?? Would the term sexual harassment be better?? I personally think it's arbitrary to say "thats not technically sexual abuse, its just weird, stop calling it that" when it's something sexual.....that hurts someone?? Idk its semantics.

So anyway ignoring the vibes you brought to the table, I was talking to my irl friend about Helluva, back when the stolitz shit was happening. And I was complaining because of how CLEAR the abuse in that dynamic is to me. And he was like "I think cuz of your trauma that you're reading into it too much and taking it too seriously." And I was like "IF VIV WANTS POINTS FOR DOING SA REP, THEN IM GONNA TAKE EVERYTHING SUPER SERIOUSLY"

The difference between us is that I was sexually abused, and trafficked(not sex trafficked but still) so when I watch this show, I IMMEDIATELY pick up on things happening there. While he doesn't because he's """normal"""" and not traumatized, so he just sees fun dick joke show about dick and balls. I think a lot of this fandom is a mix of both. People like me picking up on signs, and other people who just are here for jokes and don't necessarily notice all the really bad shit because thats not exactly their lived experience. Completely understandable, I don't hold it against anyone for not noticing it the way I do. But I do see it, and wanna bitch about it.

We're in hell. This show is set in the actual human bible hell damnation hell for hell people. I think there's a way to read some characters as "uwu babies", but I'm not gonna. It's hell. In hell. I'm going to be giving no one the benefit of the doubt, and assume the worst in people until proven otherwise. Especially when the characters in question are dickbags who never actually change.

What Stolas is doing is...sexual harassment? Is that better??? Stolas is openly engaging in pretty intense kinkplay around his daughter and that is in fact, Bad.

(its also entirety possible Octavia knows that this dynamic is sexually violent and is forced to listen to her dad want to rape a guy, and no dont come telling me thats wrong too, fuck off.)

And as someone who's been through the exact same kind of trauma as Octavia, I can say it definitely fucked me up✨ The only thing I'll give Stolas is that it doesn't seem like he's been doing this around her since she was a small child like I was, but its still bad. That's still inappropriate behavior, that's still something he should know to stop immediately when he sees she's around. Octavia is a depressed, struggling teenager who needs love and support while dealing with this sudden divorce. Stolas spends EVERY episode that is supposed to be about them, either tryna fuck Blitz in front of her, or ignoring her to interact with Blitz and or yell at Stella.

Stolas' problem as a character(not a bad thing, this should be a story/character arc) is that he's deeply entitled, and doesn't see how is actions effect others. Stolas is upset that he was forced into marriage? Wow, isn't Stella such a bitch for doing that too him? No empathy for the woman also being raped and abused through this forced marriage. Stolas is gay and wants to fuck? Let's not think about the class difference, and that he's literally holding Blitz' survival in his hands in exchange for cock. Stolas wants the sexual experiences he was robbed of because of his trauma? Who cares if it destroys his family and makes his daughter feel worthless, he wants to sext. His arc should be about facing the fact that he's abusive, and hurtful. He is hurting Blitz, and Octavia with his sexual behavior. But if he was supposed to be a "good" character with "good intentions", then he should have no problem apologizing and ACTUALLY changing. Stolas doesn't seem upset that they're upset, he's upset he got "caught". He's upset Blitz demands respect and doesn't suck his dick the second he shows any remorse. He's upset that he can't fight Stella and fuck all he wants and instead has to deal with his moody teenager ACTUALLY needing attention and support. My comment about "the entire series" is because the only things we see are the bad parts of their relationship with no development, even if its only a few episodes.

Also since we're playing the virtue game, saying "but he didn't do it on purpose" is actual victim blaming and rapist apologist behavior so like, good job?? Saying rape or sexual abuse isn't as big of a deal just because it was an accident, or unintentional is definitely a take to have. Now, I'd say this is a stupid furry series that doesn't matter in the long run, but you're the one whining about language??

Anyway. Hazbin/Helluva are poorly made shows that annoy me. Pls stop fucking with people about shit like "softening" language and all that "real victims" and all that purity culture savior complex bullshit. Its super weird. Rambling times over, its like 5am im going back to sleep. Also I'm proship, this is media analysis not a moral thing except for the part where I was fucked with over language.

#rip the council dealing with me going insane over this ask at 5am #im slepy #also leave me alone lmao #theres a lot more angry version of this in my drafts but im gonna be slightly normal about it #Octavia hits very close to home for me and it annoys me #i hate when i get good abuse rep and the fandom always forgets that the guy they're defending has a daughter #borderlands2 was like this as well and i ufughghg #anyway slepy #helluva boss critical #proship #anon ask #rant

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3thirtyonethirtyone1 · 1 month ago

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Protector

——————————————————————————

SUMMARY: When Jonathan is harassed by a stranger, his lovely boyfriend surely won't want to unalive him yes he wants

A/N: This is based on that TikTok where Jonathan mentions a, let's say, strange encounter with a stranger. Anything besides this is purely fictional.

R/N= restaurant name

Y/NNIE= a nickname Jonathan has for Y/N

TWs: Violence, Homophobia, Rasism, Sexual Innuendos (lmk if I missed one)

——————————————————————————

It was a beautiful day outside. Sunny, warm enough to wear a T-shirt, but not hot enough to sweat and Jonathan decided to get a coffee before meeting with his boyfriend, Y/N who was helping a friend of his at their restaurant since he had the rest year off work and if he "stayed all day inside, I'll crawl on the walls and finally start to watch Bridgerton". Jonathan was fine with his partner not liking the series that made him famous. He loves him and that is enough.

However, the sunny atmosphere was about to get clouded by a man in the line at a coffee shop who was displeased that the man in front of him had a Human Rights Campaign cap, how dare he.

"Doesn't have an ounce of shame. There are kids around." ,he mumbled, but loud enough for Jonathan to hear. Yeah,definitely american.

Jonathan decided to ignore him. He felt too good today, regarding the jet lag he had to face the night prior and he couldn't give that man the satisfaction to see him bothered by his words.

"Back in the day, they wouldn't let those like it free on the streets, but hey that's progress right?!" ,the man said to nobody, because everyone else had their own business to mind.

"Back in the day?! He isn't older than Y/N and he's 39. That's just great." , Jonathan thought.

When he got the register, he ordered a coffee for him and a hot chocolate for Y/N because working in a stressful environment such as a crowded gourmet restaurant and drinking coffee doesn't work for him.

After he picked up and paid for the beverages, he turned around and finally faced the man.

"Get out of my country, you... queer!" ,he barked.

"Excuse me?" , Jonathan asked, obviously baffled by the man's audacity

"You heard me! We already have enough of your kind without other countries dumping their waste into my country." , racist and homophobe, double calamity.

"Sir, if you're acting disruptive, I need you to escort you out of the coffee shop." , the barista inquiried.

"Fine, I'll leave, but not because you told me to, but because it's not normal to accept those like it." , he said, and got out.

"Sir, do you need to sit down for a bit?", the barista suggested.

"Yes, please," he'd answered, before he opened his phone and texted Y/N.

As he got there, he couldn't wonder about the fact that every restaurant his boyfriend has ever worked in looked absolutely cinematic. And this restaurant in particular was a perfect combination of the classic luxury restaurant aesthetic and a relaxed tuscan air. He kept wandering around the entrance until someone hugged him from behind.

"Guess who?", the man behind asked.

"Darling you scared me," , Jonathan said, visibly startled.

"Ahh, who got you so scared,mm?" , his boyfriend asked, sipping on his hot chocolate.

Jonathan began to tell the tale to his boyfriend, who became increasingly more furious as the story evolved.

All of a sudden, Jonathan sees the man who verbally assaulted him.

"Oh my God! It's him! That's him!" , Jonathan said panicked, as he saw that man alongside a group of people, assumingly his family.

"You said he didn't like your cap, ain't it?", Y/N asked, his sight never leaving that man, like he was a lion hunting a gazelle.

"Sweetheart whatever you're thinking, don't.", Jonathan warned.

"Cap. Now, please." , Y/N said sweetly.

"Y/NNIE..."

"Jonny..."

"Fine. Here you go.", Jonathan said, giving the cap to his boyfriend.

"Thank you." , Y/N said before pecking his cheek. "Now be a good boy and watch the show. You got front row seats, baby."

Jonathan watched closely as his boyfriend approached the man and his group and said:

"Excuse me, but if you please leave this restaurant that will be great.", Y/N told them in a formal tone.

"It better be a pretty goddamn reason cus I'm sure as hell I didn't do no darin' do." , the man answered.

"It's just... we have a zero tolerance against any form of harassment and/or aggression and, I'm sorry to be the one who tell you, you are checked on both of them." , Y/N said, desperately trying not to laugh.

"What...? Harassment, aggression...?", the man asked confused.

"You really don't remember, don't you," ,Y/N pointed to the cap.

"You... You know that prissy boy from that coffee shop?" ,the man asked, visibly shocked.

"Not only do I know him, but I eat his ass and he sucks my dick." , Y/N bluntly stated and a woman gasped in shock.

"How dare you say such abominations in front of my family" , he said before throwing a punch at him, but Y/N caught his palm in his hand.

"You hit like a woman." , Y/N said mockingly as he slapped him across his face. "Now, I don't like saying the same thing twice. The door is there and I wish you a nice day." Y/N said as they left.

——————————————————————————

"You didn't have to do that," , Jonathan said that night when they were at home.

"Why not?" , Y/N wanted to know. "Nobody should treat anyone the way you got."

"Look at you, the protector of the innocents.", Jonathan said in mocking awe.

"Especially when it comes to my beloved", Y/N stated as he kiss Jonathan's lips.

#jonathan bailey #jonathan bailey fanfic #jonathan bailey x reader #jonathan bailey x male reader

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dr-futbol-blog · 4 months ago

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Duet, pt. 11

Having taken off from the date that she herself arranged for McKay (and for herself), Cadman seems to have gained complete control of his body where he is unable to re-exert control of it even though he clearly wants to. He is like a puppet or a marionette that she is stringing along. McKay seems anxious to get back to where they had left, and it is not because he just enjoyed Katie Brown's company so much that he would like to continue the date. Cadman had made a terrible mistake by kissing her, and he needed to set the record... straight.

McKay: Give me back my body! We have to go back. Cadman: And do what? I bet that is the most honest you've ever been with a girl and it wasn't even you!

It's interesting that even Cadman seems to clock that McKay is not honest with women, that he lies to women and about women. She just doesn't get the reason why he does this. McKay is not honest with women and sure enough, we have seen him lie to women even in this episode. We have seen him lie to women multiple times in the past. And he lies about all kinds of things because he just doesn't consider them enough to bother with the truth. We have literally seen him lie about his interest in a woman (in The Gift, S01E18), this is established behaviour for him. But at the same time, Cadman may be projecting here. It seems as though she has at least some amount of interest in Katie Brown and obviously as a member of the military she's not allowed to act on these feelings.

We saw a photo of her with two attractive women in her room, the assumption being that they are friends she left back on Earth. But people were chosen for the expedition because they didn't have a lot of ties back to Earth, and we have no reason to suspect that Sheppard would have used some other criterion for choosing people under his command. While we later learn that his parents are still alive, we don't know how close they are. Cadman's best friend was a German Shepherd, so the attractive women may be something else to her. It might be that she is not entirely honest with girls and that the things Cyrano told Roxane under the guise of Christian were things that she has longed to say to Katie Brown herself. It might be that she doesn't even understand this about herself, that she's not closeted so much as repressed. But definitely she seems to have some interest in women and in Katie Brown in particular. She also seems real elated here, walking away from the kiss. She seems happy, carefree. McKay, on the other hand, is both pained and anxious. He did not want to kiss her.

McKay: What is-- you doing now? Cadman: We're just trying to do too much too fast, McKay. McKay: Please, please go back! Cadman: Nope!

Cadman still seems to think that she's doing McKay some kind of a favour by forcing his hand, as though she's gently nudging him to do things that he really wants to do anyway, is just too afraid or nervous to actually go through with it. But what Cadman is really doing is putting him in an awful bind because even if he was interested in women, even if he was interested in Katie Brown, the Botanist works for him. Kissing someone working under him out of the blue is not OK. It's an abuse of power. It's workplace harassment. It's a lawsuit waiting to happen. There was nothing in Katie's behaviour that indicated she wanted to be kissed just then and even if she did, it's still morally dubious to abuse his position of power for sexual favours (in front of witnesses, no less!). There are so many reasons why McKay just wants to go back there and tell her this has all been a terrible mistake. She's a lovely lady but he just can't do this. McKay is actually begging Cadman to go back, the man who never says please or thank you.

McKay: ...rock, paper, scissors. I'm the left hand, you're the right. Cadman! Cadman: Fine. Yay! Paper beats rock, we leave. McKay: No, we… Cadman: Get a hold of yourself, man!

The fact that they are actually able to play rock-paper-scissors while sharing a body tells us just how separated their minds are, how they have no access whatsoever to each other's private thoughts. But the fact that he suggests RPS here lets us in how just how anxious what happened back there is making McKay. The last time he played this game he was about to go on a space walk without a tether. He would go on a space walk without a tether a thousand more times than have to kiss a woman against his will.

Note the fact that McKay takes the left hand for himself, and once more this is not because he's being considerate and letting the lady have the right hand. Now, the question of McKay's handedness is not not so obvious. He seems at least partially ambidextrous. He may be right-handed but he does a lot of things with his left hand that people would usually use their dominant hand for. Earlier, he picked up his watch with his left hand but then started putting it on his left hand which is something right-handed people do, only he fumbled with it, he had trouble doing the thing the required fine motor control with his right hand. You keep your watch on your non-dominant hand so that it is out of the way. But he uses his left hand a lot for a right-handed man.

And this may be (particular to the actor but also) because a lot of left-handed people, having to live in a right-handed world, train themselves to use their non-dominant hand much better than right-handed people do. So you might be left-handed and still write with your right hand. But McKay's preference for his left hand suggests that it may be his native, actual dominant hand. Which is interesting with regards to his sexual orientation (and not only because left-handed people are statistically more likely to be homosexual). It's symbolic of the fact that he was born one way but society has forced him to act against his inborn preference. He pretends to be right-handed in a right-handed world but he actually is left-handed and we are able to see this if we look closely, if we pay attention to it.

Also, Cadman actually slaps McKay here. She uses physical violence to get him to do what she wants. It's hilarious obviously, real eye-watering slapstick stuff. McKay hits himself and is hit by a woman at the same time. Furthermore, by calling him a 'man' as he tells her to get a hold of himself Cadman is taking a jab at his manhood and masculinity again. He's telling him to be a man, take it like a man. Now, we don't know for sure whether there was physical abuse in his childhood but it's entirely possible there was. He missed almost a month of school after kissing someone and smart money is that he got caught not kissing a girl.

McKay is not a stranger to pain and all that he does complain about a lot of minor ailments, especially to his best friend, the doctor (because he thinks he needs an excuse to spend time with), at the same time we have seen McKay brush off a lot of real pain (like when he was tortured by the Genii in The Eye S01E11), we've seen him not feel physical pain that he should have felt. He seems to know how to turn pain off, which is pretty concerning. At the same time, Cadman tells him to "get a hold of" himself while denying him the ability to do that very thing, which is also reminiscent of the kinds of mixed messages a child might receive in an abusive childhood environment. Riveting stuff, all around.

Fortunately, McKay is saved by the intercom alerting him to the lab in the hangar. Cadman at least agrees to take him there to see what they have come up with.

Weir and Sheppard are in the lab and given that they called for McKay in particular, it's possible both Weir and Sheppard were already there. But it's also possible that they decided to join them in the lab when they heard Zelenka hailing for McKay just to see what was going on. Now, Zelenka's tone was not alerting them to any looming disaster but when McKay is called into the lab, you never know what might be going on. So hearing McKay's name mentioned in a hail on the intercom might definitely be enough for Sheppard to want to check out what was going on, and possibly Weir as well.

Regardless, we find them there, and Sheppard is staring down at a pair of mice that a tech just laid down on the table. Only, the look in his eyes suggests that he had been staring at the table for a long while before the mice were set down, his eyes are fixed on them like they are the most curious thing he's ever seen. He can barely draw his eyes away when Zelenka starts explaining to McKay what they've been doing. But since the mice were just placed down, there's no way Sheppard was just looking at the table with nothing on it before that. He's not looking at the mice so much as he's not looking at McKay here.

Sheppard does turn when Zelenka starts talking but we don't see him react to the fact that McKay is wearing civilian clothes here, which he most definitely would have noticed. Civilian and semi-formal, yes, but also not clothes that McKay would ever have worn had the two of them gone out on a date. McKay would never put on three layers of clothes for Sheppard. So while it is out of character and definitely worth a note, it's difficult to say what Sheppard might have deduced from this.

Zekenka: We've been running simulations all day. I think I may finally have something. I was able to get the generator to run on a buffer loop which tricks the dart into taking only the power that it needs without overloading. McKay: Mmm. Great. Good thinking. Can we just see it? Weir: Anxious? McKay: Yes.

McKay actually admits that he is anxious. Only, he's not just anxious about this test working, he's anxious over all of it. He's so ready for this to be over. But McKay isn't the only one that is anxious about this. Note how Sheppard reacts to Weir's question like for a moment he thought she was asking him, if he was anxious. Weir says the word 'anxious' and Sheppard's eyes snap immediately to McKay, doing the self-soothing lip thing. Sheppard may pretend to be nonchalant about this all day long but his tells reveal how nervous he actually is here.

Also note that as McKay admits that he is anxious, he lifts his hand to cover his mouth at the same time as though the confession makes him wants to hide. And he is not wanting to hide his emotions from Weir but in particular from Sheppard. His eyes flicker to Sheppard as he admits that he is anxious, and then feels the need to hide from him. To not let Sheppard read things off of his face. Now, McKay is being honest here. He's not lying. But at the same time, he continues to feel defensive around Sheppard, like he doesn't feel quite safe enough to be open, to share his emotions, and while this may partially be due to Cadman's presence in his mind, not all of it is. And yet he's more honest here than he has been all day.

And Sheppard does not seem to feel free and relaxed around McKay, either. As the mice vanish, it looks both like he wants to say something and that he wants to look at McKay. His head starts to turn so that he could look at McKay but he then walks it back immediately, thinks better of it.

Sheppard: Now I'm no scientist... but those mice used to be a different colour. McKay: This is never gonna end! I'm gonna be stuck like this, forever!

Sheppard cracks a joke about the mice, and this lets us in on just how helpless he feels about all of this. There is nothing he can do but to watch the rodents burn to crisp, and this is all his fault. McKay is starting to despair and there is no one that can tell better than Sheppard that this is indeed the case. And in his despair, McKay looks at Sheppard here, for a brief moment, with this look of honest and naked need. He seems to forget himself for a moment, his eyes pleading to Sheppard, and as soon as he notices what he just did, he shifts his gaze at Zelenka as though he had meant to say the words to him. He fixes his eyes on Zelenka's face so as not to look at Sheppard again. And then he's looking at Zelenka's face like it holds the answers to the Universe when that's just to keep him from letting himself fall apart near Sheppard and trust him to hold him together. Because they're not that, not anymore.

But even though it was a slip and McKay attempted to cover for the look as soon as he realized what he did, Sheppard did see it. He doesn't need a lot with McKay to understand what's going on, he reads McKay like an open book and knows the minutest nuances by now. He saw it, and he needs to do something. This is why we next find him making his case to Weir about taking Ronon on board. These are not two separate story threads, Sheppard and McKay's stories are connected.

Now, Zelenka mentioned using a generator to run on a buffer loop to trick the dart into taking only the power that it needs without overloading. With regards to Ronon and how Sheppard has been running him just like Zelenka has been running his experiments on the dart, Sheppard has also come to the conclusion that he needs to run a buffer to be able to use Ronon both safely and effectively. And this is why he approaches Weir. Weir is the buffer. Sheppard needs Weir to function as a weir, being a dam used to regulate the flow of a river. Ronon Dex is like a force of nature that needs to be contained to be able to use him, and Sheppard needs to use him. Watching McKay's despair in the lab, the thought that his inability to protect him from the wraith may have caused him permanent injury, just emphasizes how much they need Ronon. And so, Sheppard does not approach Weir to get permission; he's perfectly capable to make the decision he has already made and doesn't require Weir's permission on strategic military decisions like whether to incorporate Ronon into his own team or not. That's not why he approaches Weir. He needs Weir as a buffer. He needs Weir to contain Ronon.

Weir: I'm not sure it's a good idea, John. Sheppard: Elizabeth, you've gotta see this guy in action. He is an incredible shot; none of my guys can beat him in a fight; and he's ex-military. Weir: Not a military on Earth. Sheppard: The guy's got no place to go. Weir: You're not just being charitable? Sheppard: No, I'm not.

Let's start with the fact that even though Sheppard has the perfect view of Weir's derriere, he doesn't take a look. And it's not because he is being coy or stealthy or just because he respects her so much. We saw him look at the ass of his commanding officer (in The Siege, S01E20) when it was right there in front of him just 'cause it was there, twice! But with Weir, it doesn't even occur to him to look at her behind because it holds no interest to him. His full focus here is on his sales pitch and it's because he is trying to sell his idea to Weir that he attempts to maintain firm eye contact with her throughout this talk. Maintaining eye contact is mean meant to impress his will on her, and this is not the first time we have seen him do this.

It is interesting that Weir somehow gets from Sheppard's argument that the guy has nowhere else to go that he's not being charitable giving him a place to stay. Sheppard's argument was meant to convince her of the exact opposite of this, that it would be the charitable thing to take Little Orphan Annie out of the cold and give him a place to stay. Again, as when ever Sheppard really needs for something to happen, he is going to use every weapon in his arsenal and he is full-on attempting to manipulate Weir into going his way. But from the very start, Weir seems to have been savvy to Sheppard using manipulation tactics, so it could be that she simply sees through his ruse here. Sheppard isn't doing this for charity, because he feels sorry for the guy. So why is he so insistent?

Weir: And I think he'd make a great addition to my team. Weir: We don't know anything about him. Sheppard: Well, what's there to know?

Sheppard doesn't really care about Ronon as a person, not yet. He sees Ronon as a blunt instrument. He knows all he needs to know about Ronon: he is effective and capable of protecting McKay's life. And it's not as though Sheppard has any special insight into Ronon's character yet, it's not as though he feels some kind of martial brotherhood or sympathy as a soldier toward him. The details of his life and personality just are not important to him at this time. Later, yes, but not yet.

Weir: Well, anything would be helpful. He's not very forthcoming. Sheppard: He's been on the run from the wraith for the past seven years. What do you expect? Listen! Just talk to the guy. You owe him that at least. Weir: OK.

Now, this is interesting. It almost looks like Sheppard is about to knock Weir like a door here. What he was doing is likely wanting to grab her by the shoulder to make her stop walking away from him (Sheppard does not like people walking away from him in any context but here Weir was just making it more difficult for him to convince her by engaging in all kinds of distractions instead of the Very Important Thing he was approaching her with), to turn her and force her to face him when he's talking to her. He draws his hand back like he had burned it just as soon as he realizes what he was about to do and how inappropriate it would be to manhandle the director of the expedition. But this just goes to show how important this thing is for Sheppard. He needed her to stop running about and to focus on what he was telling her. He needed her to understand. Now, this almost touch had zero percent to do with any desire to touch her on his part. He does not have lingering desires, secret longings to touch her. He was growing frustrated, he is desperate, and he was not going to take no for an answer.

In spite of what Sheppard says, Weir doesn't actually owe Ronon anything. Ronon had captured her people and then let them go in exchange for a medical procedure. All debts were paid, and the man has been hanging around their digs with room and board for the past week. But Sheppard feels like he owes Ronon (Ronon saved McKay's life, he owes him a lot), and so he projects this on Weir. And while Weir hardly seems convinced by his arguments, he did see something in Sheppard that told her this was important to him. She may not have understood a third of what was going on with that man but she could tell it was something. So she could talk with Ronon Dex. Talking with foreign dignitaries was her job.

There are a lot of things happening on Sheppard's face here, at the end, before he walks away. If McKay gave him a look of pleading, his eyes very much seem to plead to Weir until he gets that OK. So, he should feel relieved, right? Relief is the feeling he should be feeling, like he just achieved something. He managed to convince her so he should be able to breathe easier. But that's not what happens.

Instead, he looks down and draws his mouth back in a grimace. We could interpret this as Sheppard just not being quite sure about Ronon and whether he's doing the right thing here, as his uncertainty and hope that Weir will be able to tell him if this is a bad idea. Only, he looks sad. He almost looks like he wants to cry here.

He looks to the lower right, then down and ahead, then to his right, then dead ahead, to the right, dead ahead. He then closes his eyes briefly with a deep sigh, as though hiding pain. Then he looks back into the room, looking almost hateful. Then he closes his eyes again, burying all of that as he takes off.

With regards to the meaning in the direction someone looks, the whole of the right side is for remembered things. Looking to the right is supposed to indicate retrieving memories, recollection. Lower right indicates emotional memory and body sensation recall, right and to the side indicates recollection of sounds and words, remembering things someone has said. Sheppard seems to remember something very strongly here, and it's a painful memory. He remembers words that were spoken, he remembers emotions and he remembers sensations of his body.

The thing is, there is a couple in Weir's office waiting for her. A man and a woman who are clearly together, the woman being a member of the military, someone under Sheppard's command. It looks like they have come to her for some official business like to get married or to get permission to do something together that requires permission (move in together, have a child, update their wills). What ever it is, these two people are in a relationship and because they are a man and a woman, because they are a heterosexual couple, they can do this. Society and its institutions support the relationships of these people. They're not just allowed to be like this in public, they are in fact encouraged.

Now, Sheppard has been married (although we do not know it yet) so for sure, he could be remembering something related to his marriage, his divorce or his ex-wife. Only, later on, it doesn't seem like he has that many feelings about that. He wasn't good at that, he tells Ronon. That's not the thing that is making him bitter. This pain on his face is much more fresh than that. It's acute.

Sheppard looks back at the room before he takes off, and he's not looking at Weir, he is looking at the whole scene of it and he seems to feel anger. Which is curious. But it makes sense if you see that these people are allowed to be together freely in front of everyone, they can move in together, have kids, share their 401K, get married, the whole nine yards of it, when as a Lieutenant Colonel of the United States Air Force, her superior officer, he can't even fucking look at the man that he loves when they are in public. Following his promotion, he is forced to keep McKay at a distance every second of every day when that's the opposite of what he wants. We are asked to think about Sheppard's nightmares at the end of the episode but he didn't just have nightmares, he had dreams too. Before it all went wrong, they had dreams that they had shared with each other. And this is about McKay. We end the episode with McKay sighing deeply with a similar look on his face because even the best laid plans of mice and men do oft go awry.

Continued in Pt. 12

#sga #stargate atlantis #john sheppard #sga meta #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. duet #ep. the gift #ep. the eye

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