#did you know that you have Agency and also that maybe you should’ve thought this through

[periphrasis]

???????

[nnight-dances]

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should���ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

[irisintheafterglow]

More Than It Seams (Chapter 4)

summary: you're a hero costume tech working for one of the biggest fashion companies in quirk society, and the days until the most important fashion event of the year are dwindling fast. if you weren't stressed enough, a certain half-and-half hero keeps appearing with rips in his suit. (pro!todoroki x reader)

word count: 2.8k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of needles, probably inaccurate fashion design vocabulary, strangers to lovers, no specified pronouns for reader, mentions of food/eating, mention of character death/disappearance, descriptions of wounds and blood, grief with happy ending

note: second to last chapter let's gooooo !!! in theory this could be considered the "last chapter," but don't you wanna know how the ball goes??? and maybe shoto and reader have their first kiss ;). thank you for all the support you've given this series!!

likes/reblogs/feedback are appreciated :)

New Voicemail Message [11:32 A.M]

“Hey! Just checking in; I just finished the whole flame side and I’m about to start the shading for the ice side. If you’re able, I’d love for you to come see it and maybe I can buy you lunch this time. No pressure, just let me know. Alright, bye!” 

New Voicemail Message [5:36 P.M] 

“Hi, hi, hi. I picked up Soba takeout for dinner if you’re free. I have both of our usuals, and I can drop them at your agency too if you’re busy. Oh, also, the lady behind the counter was so confused that it was me by myself; you should’ve seen her face. Anyway, just wanna make sure you’re doing okay. Bye!” 

New Voicemail Message [8:24 P.M] 

“Hey Shoto, it’s me, again. I’m sorry for spamming you with voicemails and shit. I just, honestly? I’m kinda worried, haha. I know it’s dumb. Like, I know you can handle yourself and everything, but part of me still wants to make sure you’re good, you know? Just, uh, let me know. If–when you’re home. I miss your stupid voice. Okay, bye.” 

New Voicemail Message [11:56 P.M] 

“Hey. I’m aware that I keep bothering you. If I did something to make you upset, I’m really sorry…I’m about to go to bed, but I’ll see you tomorrow? Obviously, you can’t see it, but uh, I’m sticking my thumb up, haha. Call me when you can, please.”

[2] Missed Calls: Big D(esigner)🧵👑💖 

New Messages: Big D(esigner)🧵👑💖 

12:00 A.M hey  12:00 A.M idk if you’re awake 12:00 A.M but if you are 12:01 A.M please check the news 

The incessant buzzing phone in your hand woke you from your position on the couch. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you assume you passed out after eating a late dinner, waiting for Shoto to call. His food was in the fridge, untouched, while yours was only half-eaten, plastic bowls and utensils messily scattered across your coffee table. The notifications at the top of your phone made your heart drop into your stomach, and you prayed that the thought hiding in the back of your mind wasn’t true. 

You stood as the TV clicked on, only for your legs to give out beneath you as the reporter detailed where he was last seen, what he was wearing, possible suspects, and the statement from his manager. There was no substance in the public statement, only reassurances that efforts are being made to find him. You shut down the TV after they got into the part of the statement that sounded like a fucking eulogy, talking about how he was a loyal friend, devoted hero, and embodiment of a good person. You didn’t need to be told that. You’d seen it firsthand for the past two weeks. Anger, confusion, worry, and grief came in waves, crashing against each other as you curled into yourself. Your eyes welled to alleviate the burn after staring at the screen, your forehead throbbing from the flashing reds and whites of the “BREAKING NEWS” title screen. Your lungs and throat felt empty, consciousness detached from the body. 

No sobs rang out in the darkness of your apartment that night, and it terrified you how silent you were. There was no crying, no convulsing, no thrown objects across the room to create dents in the walls. It was just…silence. You couldn’t tell if you’d slept or not, hours passing as you stared wide-eyed at the ceiling after dragging yourself back onto the couch. It was an effort to breathe, to force yourself to inhale and exhale like it was opening and closing your fists. 

As sunlight permeated through the lightly swinging shades, your phone alarm went off. You stared at it, the musical sound seeming to be coming from underwater. The notifications at the top of your phone once you finally turned it off were like reading in a dream, with letters blurring and rearranging until you didn’t know what the original message was. Hey, thinking about you, they said. We understand if you can’t make it in today, they promised. Hello, you were one of the people last seen with Todoroki Shoto. Our news outlet would like to interview you. Fingers gripping the phone so hard you wanted to snap it, you slammed it onto the coffee table. Flashes of white-hot rage took over your body, directed at no one in particular. You pulled a pillow into your chest, fighting back the impulse to scream, scream, scream until either your voice or your lungs give out. 

“Hey.” It was your roommate, and she held her cat in her arms like a newborn baby. Your empty eyes stared back at them. “I won’t ask if you’re doing okay because that’s a bullshit question. I just wanted to tell you that I’m here for you if you need anything. Just call me, yeah?” You barely nod your assent, and her gentle fingers brush away the tears that had broken through your resolve. “I know it’s hard, and I know you’re grieving,” she said as she rose from the crouch she took to be eye-level with you. She takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “But I also know that you’re one of the strongest people I know. We both know it’s Friday, and we both know those assholes in the commission aren’t going to postpone the one event that brings them money.” She doesn’t say it, but you know what she means. You need to get up and finish your pieces. “Do your best, okay?” 

Just do your best. 

It’s what you repeated to yourself as you struggled from the couch to your bedroom, then to the bathroom, then finally out the door and through the gate in your office. Your other designer, the one who had told you to check the news, runs over from his station. Shaking your head decisively before he could speak, you brush past him with an understanding hand on his shoulder. Your aching throat didn’t have the voice to give one last round of encouragement to your staff, but they looked to you anyway as you took your spot at the front of the room. 

“Just do your best,” you said before turning to the embroidery thread shelves and picking out the most vibrant shades of blue and light purple you could find. The rest of the office worked with a fervor you’d never seen before, and you gave them a sad smile whenever they’d glance up to check on you. All the other heroes’ ball looks were finalized, ready to be handed off to their stylists who would do the final dressing and accessorizing. Seven mannequins lined up in front of a window: Cellophane’s intricately beaded suit, Momo’s sweeping velvet ball gown, Deku’s sleek three-piece, Red Riot’s fiery matching set, Pinky’s princess-like mermaid dress, and Bakugo’s sheer-paneled, explosive applique-covered denim jacket. 

Everyone’s looks were finished, except one. His tailored leather pants were complete as well as the simple white button-up, and the silver pocket chain rested around the headless neck of the mannequin. All that was left to do was finish the design covering the back of the coat, which you worked on tirelessly far past when your staff had left the building. It should have been a day of celebration with champagne, balloons, and cake to commemorate another successful Hero Ball; but, 11:30 and 5:00 passed with no trace of him, and you couldn’t find it in your mind to participate in festivities. Whispered goodbyes and “see you tomorrow” floated around you, and it took more energy than it should have to smile and nod. 

Time ran away from you again, and the coat was finished at midnight on the dot, embellished with small buckles, two rows of buttons, shoulder pads, pockets, and the stunning ice and flame embroidery on the back panel. It truly was the greatest piece you had imagined and created, your quirk allowing the thread to almost act like paint as you added subtle nuance to the two opposing cranes. The fire crane rose from the bottom corner of one of the front panels, forming a circle with the ice crane that descended from the shoulder pad of the opposite front panel. Draping the finished piece on the mannequin and attaching the pocket chain for good measure, you stepped back with your hands on your hips to admire your work. He was gonna love it, when he saw it. If he saw it, the pessimistic demon in your mind whispered. With a deep breath that you didn’t know you needed, you turned to pack your stuff and head home. 

And that’s when something large slammed into M’s office window. 

The thud startled you, the dull noise of something hitting the glass bouncing off the empty cavern of the room. Your fingers wrapped around a pair of scissors as you approached the half-open door, cautiously guiding it open and squinting at the distorted figure behind the dark glass. Your eyes widened when you realized the object was huge, the size of at least two very tall people. One hand tightly gripping the scissors, the other slowly slid into your pocket to call the police when you heard a voice call from the other side. 

“Needle! Needle…wait, what? Needle, uh, sprouting from…Needle sprouting from thumb? Jesus, Todoroki, who would ever say such a thing–” You threw the window open, sending it flying upward as you took in the people set precariously on the ledge. You recognized one as Deku, the number one hero who sometimes visited your office to implement support tech into his costume. His gloved hand grabbed the edge of the window, easing him and the person he was carrying into M’s office and collapsing onto the couch. Deku quickly stood, closing the window and scanning the surroundings for threats. Your hand unconsciously rose to brush the matted red hair from the other person’s face, and the oxygen left your lungs as you zeroed in on the scar barely visible around the blood splattered on the person’s left eye.

Shoto. 

His body was in tatters, with scrapes and cuts and punctures covering his body like some zombie Halloween. The white of his hair was covered in so much blood that his entire head was red. His suit had burnt off on his fire side, and his ice side was nearly blue from discoloration. Your body moved on its own when you took in the most significant wound, a large gash cutting diagonally across his abdomen. Mind empty except for the battered man on M’s couch, you shoved your hands into the fabric scraps box and brought them back to Deku, who pressed them against Shoto’s gash to stop the bleeding. Fingers pressed under his chin, you felt a faint heartbeat and could see his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He was dying, and you needed to do something to stop the blood loss. 

“I tried to get him to go to a hospital, but he said it wasn’t safe,” Deku said to you, eyes clouded with concern. “He was barely able to tell me your building’s address before he passed out. I trust his judgment, but I really need you to know that, if Todoroki doesn’t get stitches, he will die. Do you have some way of stitching this up?” The fabric in his hands was soaked a dark red and the realization of what Shoto wanted you to do hit you like a train. 

He wanted you to give him stitches. 

You’d never tried your quirk on any actual humans, only textiles. Your parents had suggested becoming a medic because of your quirk, but the idea of manipulating something to enter a human body was an idea that you couldn’t stomach. There were others with more efficient quirks who could do that, but none of them were with you now. An idea dawned on you, and you reminded yourself to applaud your planning skills later. 

“Deku?”

“Yeah?”

“I need the sutures from your toolbelt.” His eyes widened in understanding, and he frantically pushed aside objects in his belt to find the roll of medical-grade nylon you’d placed there as a part of upgrading his first-aid kit. “Sorry, I added…more items,” he muttered apologetically, finally handing you the unused spool and the box containing the sterilized needle. Like clockwork, you threaded the needle just as you had millions of times before. Averting your gaze as Shoto groaned in pain from Deku cleaning the wound with alcohol pads that you’d also put in his belt, your hand soon hovered over Shoto’s wound in preparation to close it. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring the image of the sewing machine and instead opting for a simple knot at select intervals. Fighting down the bile in your throat as the needle pinched Shoto’s skin together, you shakily guided the thread through the skin layers and tied it into a tight knot. You felt Deku’s eyes watch you in amazement as you worked, delicately patching Shoto back together as you had with his suit the first day he’d walked through your elevator doors. Slowly but steadily, you moved your hand and the thread across the wound, sewing it shut like you’d attached his trenchcoat panels. They were, by no means, medical-grade stitches, but you believed they got the job done as the color slowly returned to Shoto’s face. When you finished stitching the large wound, you helped Deku wrap the lower half of his chest and his arms with gauze. With more scraps of fabric, you gently scrubbed off the blood and dirt, combing through his tangled hair with wet fingers. 

“Thank you, Deku,” you said quietly to him as you threw used fabric scraps into a trash bag. “For bringing Shoto to me. I was really worried.” 

“Of course,” he replied, smiling warmly. “I only wish that I’d met Todoroki’s partner under different circumstances.”

“Partner? I mean, yeah, we’re business partners, but–”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, then. I, uh, meant romantically.” Your face began to burn from Deku’s assumption. “He just talked about you a lot, you know. How much he liked being around you, how you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. He told me about all your soba dates and how he didn’t want them to be considered dates since he wants to take you somewhere much nicer when you’re done with all the ball stuff, but I still think they’re dates.” Holy shit, Deku was rambling. “I teased him about it since I don’t think he’s ever been in love before, but–” 

“Midoriya, I implore you to stop talking.” You both gasped, turning to look at a barely-conscious Shoto, who was trying to sit up from the couch. 

“Todoroki, you’re awake! Wait, no, no–you can’t sit up yet,” Deku stutters out as he rushes over to carefully push Shoto’s shoulders back down, moving the hair from his forehead as his head falls back against the armrest. You feel out of your body again as you kneel next to him, fingers brushing his cheek in relief. “I’ll uh, give you two some space,” Deku declares as he scrambles to pick up the trash bags and exit M’s office, leaving you alone with Shoto. 

His gentle eyes find yours. “Hey, pretty.”

“Hi, handsome,” you whisper, reciprocating the weak smile he gives you as he takes in your exhausted face. “What the hell were you thinking, coming here? You needed a hospital. It wasn’t safe risking your life to come here, Sho,” the shortened version of his name slips from your mouth before you could stop it, but the even softer look he gives you sends any regret or embarrassment running. “What would you have done if I wasn’t in the office?”

“I just knew you would be.” 

“That’s a terrible plan.” 

“But it worked out.”

“That it did.” You press your lips to his forehead and relish in the way his eyes shut in contentment. “I finished your coat.”

“You did?” 

“I did, but you can’t see it right now. If you lift a single finger off that couch, I’m going to reopen your stitches.” He lets out a pained laugh, wincing at the pain shooting across his chest. A thoughtful look crosses his face again, and you adore the way you could see him working things out in his mind. What those things are, you’d never know, but his pure intellect was enough to admire. 

“Do you still plan on attending the ball tomorrow?”

“Not if you’re still hurt.”

“In that case, I am no longer hurt.” He smirks at you, with an immature, boyish, attractive smile. “And I still haven’t…chosen a plus one.” 

You feel your heart cease racing in your chest. “Yeah? And who’s the lucky winner?” Your voice shakes slightly as you attempt to relieve the tension with a joke. 

He looks at you again with that expression that makes you want to kiss him. 

“It’s you. It’s always been you.” 

As you finally drift off to sleep slumped against the couch, your face close enough to his to feel him breathe, you know in your mind that it’d always been him, too.

[1] Missed Call - Midoriya Izuku

New Voicemail Message [2:04 A.M]

"Hi Yaomomo! Hope you're doing well. I need a favor..."

[mxliv-oftheendless]

How to Set Up Your Actors (Without Really Trying) (Barduil Month Week 1)

Actor AU: In which Thranduil and Bard are costars for a film and Bilbo is, as usual, rather confused on what's happening and very annoyed by everything.

It's Barduil Month! So I thought I'd participate and write some stories for a ship I love! This one was inspired by this Barduil comic drawn by the amazing @corndog-patrol ! Thanks so much for letting me write a story based on the comic! And thank you @bi-widower-dads for setting up this whole event! Hope you guys enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Bilbo’s phone vibrated the moment he sat down at his desk, it should have been a tip off of how the next hour would go. But since Bilbo was a very busy man (Valinor Talent Agency didn’t run itself, after all), who already had quite a lot to do, he elected at first to ignore it. Instead, he focused on opening his calendar and checking to make sure That Meeting was indeed today and he was ready for it. Sure enough, it was there, today at eleven o’clock, so in about twenty minutes.

He sighed and pulled out the drawer containing his emergency stash of headache medicine. He looked at it for a moment, contemplating whether he should be—

His phone vibrated again. He turned it over.

—whether he should be proactive and prepare for a potential headache. Anything was possible, especially when Bilbo didn’t feel awake and caffeinated enough for anything. Which usually ended up being all the time. Maybe he ought to see someone about that.

His phone vibrated yet again. Bilbo huffed and turned to pick up his phone and see what so desperately wanted his attention. What he found was a series of angry text messages from dear cousin Lobelia screaming in a flurry of poor grammar and an excessive use of capital letters. Nope. He was not dealing with that.

There was a series of smart, rapid knocks on the door. “Come on in,” he called as he set his phone down.

The door opened and Thranduil Oropherion swept into his office. Yes, that Thranduil Oropherion—professional stage and film actor, known for his cool professionalism, sharp wit, insightful intelligence, and fashionable dress. And also for his long blond hair that he refused to cut. Thranduil Oropherion also happened have one Bilbo Baggins as his talent agent.

Any lesser man may have been intimidated at the prospect of being the agent of such a high profile and equally high maintenance actor. But Bilbo Baggins was no ordinary man—even if he did often wonder why Thranduil refused to cut his hair when he was usually pretty reasonable about other things.

“Good morning, Bilbo,” Thranduil greeted as he sat down in the chair opposite the desk.

“Morning, Thranduil,” Bilbo returned. “Early as usual, I see.”

“I had to be,” Thranduil sniffed. “Have you seen the traffic this time of day?” He raised a hand to inspect his immaculately done nails. “Couldn’t this meeting have been scheduled at a different time?”

Bilbo sighed. Maybe he should’ve taken the headache medicine after all. “Well, it was the best time for everyone to meet,” he said. “Now, once your costar gets here, we’re going to take an hour or so for you both to get to know each other, then we’re going to the conference room for the Zoom call with the screenwriters to talk about the script—”

“And the director? Where is he in all of this?” Thranduil frowned. “I had hoped he would be here as well. I would like to discuss certain things about the script with him.”

Bilbo turned his phone facedown as it buzzed again. “The director had to call off. He’s meeting with the production company.”

Thranduil’s frown deepened fractionally. “Very well.”

He was sure he would regret asking, but Bilbo still ventured anyway, “What’s wrong with the script?”

“Well first of all, there is a clear lack of vision for the characters. Are my costar and I to be playing one-dimensional stereotypes? There is no buildup or suspense for what is supposed to be a horror plot line, and the horror relies solely on cheap jumpscares rather than any actual fear or dread.”

Now, listen, Bilbo wanted to be more annoyed at these critiques. He was sure any decent screenwriter or director would be. But personally, he just thought to himself that this was why Thranduil was such a professional and well-respected actor—he was knowledgeable not just on how to act but also on all other aspects of a production.

However, he did still think Thranduil was being a bit unfair. “I thought the script was good. Maybe it’s just a bit jarring to you since you haven’t played a protagonist like this one before.” From how Thranduil frowned but didn’t respond, he knew Thranduil knew he had a point. “Which is another reason why it’ll be good to meet with your costar and the screenwriters, since then you can get a better sense of what they want from the part you’re playing. And your costar has done more roles like yours, so he can give you some insight too.”

At the mention of his mysterious costar, Thranduil thankfully dropped the subject of the script. “Where is this costar, anyway?”

“On his way here, most likely.” Maybe that was why his phone kept vibrating, because the costar was calling him. But no, that was his personal phone that was buzzing…

“What is his name… Bard Bowman?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“What has he been in recently?”

“His last film was—hang on, you didn’t look into him at all?”

Thranduil sniffed. “Of course not. I’m a professional.”

From how long they’d known each other, Bilbo knew that meant Thranduil thought that would feel too weird and he didn’t want to seem strange for stalking his costar’s filmography. He went on. “Well, his last film was a part in some fantasy film—”

“You mean you don’t remember?” Thranduil quipped.

Bilbo just gave him a snarky smirk. “Of course not. I’m a professional.” He continued. “And then for the last year and a half he’s been on a break. Wanted to spend more time with his kids, his agent said.”

To his dismay, Thranduil’s frown appeared again. “His agent is from Dale Talent, isn’t he? Didn’t they come out of the complete cesspool of corruption that was Laketown Talent?”

Bilbo couldn’t help wincing at the name, and his phone buzzed again as if in agreement. That whole scandal had not been pretty. “They did. But Dale’s model is ethical, they pay their taxes on time, and none of their staff have evasion, public disturbance, or harassment charges. Plus their tea was pretty good.” He glanced at the clock. Five more minutes until eleven. “Right, he’ll probably be here soon. Be nice, alright?”

Thranduil gave him an indignant look. “I am always nice, Bilbo.”

“Not backhanded, passive-aggressive nice. Really nice. And that goes for when you’re meeting with the screenwriters, too.”

Honestly, sometimes he wondered if that scowl was just permanently attached to Thranduil’s face. “That will depend on what they have to say about their barely-passable-quality script.”

Bilbo could feel a headache coming on. Today was not the day to put up with all of this. “Thranduil, as your agent—” He decided to appeal to the actor’s more reasonable side. “—as your friend—I am really begging you to behave.”

Thankfully, it worked; Thranduil’s scowl softened marginally even as he scoffed and crossed his legs. “Please, Bilbo. I am an absolute joy to work with.”

Bilbo leveled him with a withering look. He amended himself. “Yes, I will be polite.”

Bilbo’s phone vibrated again as he sighed and nodded gratefully. “Good.” His phone buzzed again (what was going on?) but he ignored it and checked his agenda. “Now, he’ll be here any minute. So make sure to introduce yourself and find something you both can talk about. You’ll both be needing good chemistry anyway—”

“Why would we need good chemistry?”

Oops. He shouldn’t have said that. Bilbo maintained his cool as his phone buzzed again. “There’s going to be some romance—”

Thranduil’s eyes flashed. “The script did not call for a romance, Bilbo,” he said tensely, the sort of tense calm one would find in a very, very small eye of a hurricane.

Bilbo, however, was not intimidated. “Some things were reworked. You two are going to have a romance plot line. Did you not get the revised script?”

“No!” Thranduil leapt to his feet and paced angrily. “Unbelievable!” he ranted. “What is that hack director thinking, doing such a last minute change? Are we film students in graduate school? Is that what this is?” Bilbo’s phone vibrated again. “And where is that constant buzzing coming from?!”

“It’s my phone,” Bilbo grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m not the one who made the changes—”

“Obviously not, because you know better!” Thranduil whirled around on him in a mess of fury and blond hair. “A last minute change like this is unacceptable! Call that director! We need to discuss—”

Bilbo was seconds away from faceplanting on his desk, when there was a knock on his office door. “‘Scuse me?” someone called from outside.

Bilbo checked his wall clock. Eleven o’clock. He shot Thranduil a glare clearly meaning “Behave,” before saying aloud, “Yes? Come in.”

The door opened, and Bilbo’s headache throbbed a bit more when Bard Bowman politely entered the room. Just great. “Good morning,” Bard said politely. “Are you Mr. Baggins?”

Bilbo tried to arrange his face into a look that didn’t suggest he was one more inconvenience away from throwing something and nodded. “I am, yes.”

Bard’s face split into a grin. “Great!” He came over with an extended hand. “I’m Bard. Glad to finally meet you.”

In spite of the day, Bilbo returned the smile as he shook Bard’s hand. At least Bard’s friendly reputation was true. “And you. You’re right on time.” He turned to Thranduil, hoping at the very least that Thranduil still didn’t look like he’d nearly thrown a diva tantrum a second ago. “Thranduil, your co-star, Bard Bowman.”

To his surprise, Thranduil looked far from angry—he was staring at Bard with an almost… awestruck look on his face. The look reminded Bilbo of the look his nephew Frodo would get when he was staring at the anime characters he thought were especially hot.

Bard, on the other hand, didn’t seem to realize that was Thranduil’s look. He just smiled even wider and happily went to offer a handshake to Thranduil. “I can’t tell you how great it is to be working with you,” he said eagerly. “Your work is just amazing. Really, it’s an honor.”

And then Thranduil did the most unexpected thing: he smiled. And not just any smile, but the charming one he saved for interviews and red carpet reporters. “Please,” he replied, taking Bard’s hand, “the pleasure is mine.”

Really, if Bilbo didn’t have such a headache, he probably would have been flabbergasted by Thranduil’s rapid change of attitude. But as it was, the most he could give was a raised eyebrow. “So, Thranduil, do you still want to talk to—”

“No.”

“Alright then.” One less thing to do, at least. Although he probably would be having a word with the director about letting people know about last minute changes. But he could worry about that later, when he had gotten some coffee and ibuprofen tablets. “Well, how about we get started with—”

His phone vibrated yet again, and this time, it didn’t stop. Bilbo sighed in frustration. “Hold on.” He picked up his phone and looked to see who was calling. It wasn’t a number he remembered saving in his phone… But when he looked at the area code, he suddenly remembered when Drogo told him he’d put Bilbo down as one of Frodo’s emergency contacts at his middle school just in case.

He held up a finger to Bard and Thranduil and left his office to answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Uncle Bilbo.”

What the— “Frodo?” Why was his eleven-year-old nephew calling from his school's phone?

“Can you pick me up from school? Mum and Dad are both at work.”

Was that what all the texting had been about? “Why do you need to be picked up? What happened?”

“I, uh… got into a fight with Lotho…”

“YOU WHAT—” Bilbo glanced at his office door and lowered his voice. “You what?!”

“It wasn’t my fault! He was bullying Tom Cotton and—”

Bilbo’s headache throbbed and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Actually, Frodo, don’t. Explain it when I get there.” He checked his watch and calculated how long it would take to pick up Frodo and come back. Yes, he could manage it. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not do anything until I get there.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bilbo!”

“You’re welcome. Be there soon.”

Bilbo hung up and rubbed his forehead, then went back into his office. Bard and Thranduil had sat down on Bilbo’s couch, talking about something, with Thranduil sitting far closer than Bilbo had expected. “Excuse me,” he said.

The two actors looked up at him. “Everything all right?” Bard asked.

God, he wished. “Sorry about this, but my nephew called and I need to pick him up from school. His parents are both at work.”

Thranduil smirked, and Bilbo had no doubt he was wondering what Frodo, who was usually such a well-behaved child, had done to be sent home from school. He could not let Frodo tell him; Thranduil would probably buy him ice cream. Bard on the other hand nodded in understanding. “I understand. I can reschedule, if you like. My kids are in school too, so I’m pretty open most days.”

“Actually, it won’t take long, about twenty minutes, maybe, so why don’t you both get something to eat?”

Thranduil smoothly interjected. “I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he said, giving that charming smile to Bard again (and did Bard shift and smile a little back, or was that Bilbo’s headache muddling things?). “Have you been to the cafe downstairs? They serve excellent coffee.”

Bard smiled at him. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well, that just will not do. We can eat and,” he smiled coyly, “get acquainted while Bilbo fetches his nephew.”

“Well, that sounds perfect.”

Bilbo wondered if he was supposed to feel like a third wheel right now. “Right, well,” he awkwardly went over to his desk to grab his keys. “Good. You two, get to know each other, and I’ll be back soon.”

As he left the two to… whatever was starting to happen between them… he looked at his phone again to see what all the vibrating earlier had been about. It turned to have been several more very angry text messages from dear cousin Lobelia, ranting and raving at him about how Drogo and Primula were raising a violent, wild child and he needed to stage an intervention so that Frodo wouldn’t attack her dear, sweet Lotho ever again. Ah, so that was what all that was. Frodo must have won that fight against Lotho.

Bilbo sighed and rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t sure what just happened or what he had just done for Thranduil and Bard back there in his office, but either way, he still had a feeling Thranduil would get Frodo ice cream for something today.

[tangerinecherrygal]

Thoughts on Bridgerton S3 so far.

Under the cut for the sake of my poor moots and for spoilers. And first and foremost, I am a hater, so I will have some complaints but most are positive.

Positives:

Developing Cressida’s character. I’ve wanted this since I started watching with season 2. I love that she isn’t a cardboard cutout mean girl bc she gets shat on (deservedly sometimes) a lot by the main characters. Also I’m not sure which way they want to go with her character but I don’t think she needs any kind of redemption, maybe just a softening of her character.

Disabled visibility. It’s very clunky, but it is a step in the right direction.Period pieces tend to be worse than other types of shows and movies at erasing disabled people. It’s easy to forget that disabled people did exist and were apart of society. I can’t speak much to how they were treated, but this is bridgerton so it is very possible to portray them in ways that are realistic to the more modern experience of, say, being in a wheelchair.

Portia Featherington. Send tweet.

Benedict being a fun little guy.

Sibling dynamics of the bridgertons are really sweet to see and always make me smile.

Penelope serving cunt, intellect and agency.

Thr Mondrich family being on screen more. I’d love a side show on them like Queen Charlotte. Their relationship is so sweet and I am observing 👀 with upmost respect.

I do like Colin’s new look buuut… we will come back to this.

Francesca’s new actress is so talented. The shy girl rep that I need. She looks a lot like Phoebe and fits in perfectly.

The other stuff (and how i would change it)

Penelope’s makeover seemed rushed. I think her transformation should’ve been gradual as she gains confidence. Almost like Kate’s last season. She starts to reflect her confidence e gains throughout the season and i’m thinking that a fanfic may be brewing oh no.

Colin’s makeover is needed bc they had to downplay the actors beauty in earlier seasons. But I don’t see him as a devilishly handsome rake all of a sudden. Luke Newton has a kind and approachable (kind of baby) face and I think that they should play on that. A pretty kind of handsome instead of trying to immitate the more masculine look that they used for anthony. I know it’s because he is putting on a performance but I think they could have gona another way. His look in season 2 is great in my opinion, maybe if his clothing was more relaxed but he kept the same hair then it would be perfect.

They’re trying to convince us that he’s suave and smooth with the ladies but it’s not consistent with his character

The threesome scenes? Not a hundred percent sure who that was for. Sapphics let me know if you appreciated those scenes because I know they weren’t doing that for their famously large straight male audience. I also saw someone say it reduces the sex workers to props but in context that kind of works into the story so idk.

Colin went from being lost at the end of last season to gaining a sense of identity that isn’t implied to be an act.

Lots of side stories make it seem messy and wastes time that can go into understanding Francesca, Penelope, and Colin. Instead of focusing on stories like Lady Bridgerton’s romantic story they really should make a QS 2 where they can explore the older cast of characters.

Paaaaacinnng. Everything is happening so fast and the side stories mean that Polin doesn’t even make much sense to me. I don’t feel any chemistry. I’m not going to count how long they’ve been on screen together this season, but it’s not enough for me to believe that Colin finally sees Pen in a romantic way. The helping Pen find a husband quest lasted for a second and immediately he realises his feelings. I just don’t buy it. I almost want to cut away to horny ass Kanthony to see actual chemistry.

if anybody reads this and has their own takes pls comment. I love talking about the show and hearing what other people thought.

[fixated-on-something]

I have a theory, very unoriginal but I just want to yap

I feel like part of the reason Kady is such a nothing sandwich of a character is because she didn’t exist in the books.

(Loooong rant that’s kinda aimless but idc I want to talk)

(Hot take I know!!! I’m sure no one’s every thought of this one)

And I know that a lot of the characters are very different from their book counterparts in a lot of ways, but the groundwork was there! The idea of the character, the foundation, had already been written.

Whereas with Kady, I feel like they just threw her in and then… and then what? Sure she’s like, a “bad girl” character… with a… semi-angsty backstory? And sheee’s… dating Penny… and she hasssss mommy issuuues…??? But where do you even go from there? They literally throw her away for like a whole season just because, well, what is there to do with her?

She wasn’t even there for most major season 1 and early season 2 plot points! Then she’s kind of relevant in mid to late season 2, and then in season 3 she disappears again and when she returns her whole plot is centred around penny.

And THEN in season 4 I guess she’s doing… hedge stuff? Where they try to give her agency and make her #empowered but it’s just… weird

Because everyone else is dealing with a body hopping unkillable monster in Eliot’s body, and Kady just… fucks off??? I guess??? I mean she’s doing stuff with the library for a bit but like… why??? I get why she wants to fuck them over but also where did that come from

Like why is she not helping defeat the god monster. That seems like a pretty major issue that she should be more involved with.

I understand that her stuff with the library does ultimately help, but it really did feel like it was just a way to wedge her into the plot somehow. Also, we’re not even talking about season 5. Let’s not open that can of worms.

Idk I guess it just never really feels like… she’s part of the group? She kind of hangs out around the edges, and she’s close with Penny and Julia but other than that kind of just hangs around

Because… she WASNT IN THE BOOK!!! She didn’t exist!!! She wasn’t Julia’s hedge buddy, or Penny’s girlfriend, or anything! “Amanda Orloff” in the books, (who I’m guessing was her vague template??) is the first character to get killed. First beats encounter. She’s meant to be like, an example of “magic is dangerous”. That is her role.

Originally the group dynamic wasn’t WRITTEN to have her in it! So they were winging it.

Most of the other major character plot lines were based in something, but hers just kind of had to be pulled out of thin air- and it feels very strange

I found myself at several points in her story going “Why is she in this show?”

And it feels very, VERY jarring when she is then the person to… choose the song that is QUENTIN’S MEMORIAL?

They spoke like maybe twice. I feel like, I don’t know, ANYONE else in that group should’ve chosen

I love the Take On Me number though it’s literally my Roman Empire

All this to say, I have empathy for how hard it would be to wedge a new major character into an already very established group dynamic, but then… why did they do it…

[silkythewriter]

“Love is the greatest loss anyone can experience”

Summary: you were a monster, you knew that but to survive you must claw you way up to victory leaving anyone who stops you dead. Your an assassin, you hunt,kill,and earn so you should’ve known trusting someone would lead you here

This is an assassin reader x assassin character

Small warning!: Betrayal,angst,no happy ending ect.

Small note!: I do use some lines from some very old show or podcast so if you do find the original please tell me so I can give credit <3 also this isn’t a request, I just wanted to do a self project again to help with my writers block hope you understand!

Fandom!: Any and all

Daily song suggestion!:

Your heels clanked against the marble floors of the mansion, god you absolutely hated this job so many lives you took for some pocket change but it was bearable with them around, their warm smile and the way their hand held you closer in some missions in fear for your safety. You thought maybe, just once in your pathetic life you’d have someone to care about and hold when your sad or scared. But reality is a cruel woman that doesn’t hold mercy or pity for anyone. So you should have known what you were getting into and what your  inedible fate would be.

Your face stayed stone cold as your eyes took in every detail of the polished mansion. The white marble floors and walls were unbearably bright and overwhelming but you continued. You had a job- no this isn’t one of your other usual jobs this was a self hired mission. Your agency had nothing to do with this other then provide you the tools needed, finally you stopped in front of a brown wooden door. You hand slowly reached out to turn the knob before quickly darting back. Your knees shook as you body trembled and tears threaten to fall, but you held it together and softly placed your hand on the knob you knew this pitiful problem must come to an end

Finally after a few seconds you swung the door opened and quickly pulled out your pistol. “Y/n!! What a pleasant surprise! Come! Sit sit!” They said with that warm smile that use to bring you joy, but now only bitterness “stop it with the acts already, you fooled me once isn’t that enough?” You asked as you pointed your gun straight at their head “you fooled me, you made me believe you actually cared for my company, my agency. But no instead you ripped it apart with no hesitation no mercy” they said with a grim tone as they rested their elbow on the wooden polished desk and held their head in their hands “but no worries death will soon take you and make you pay for what you done” they giggled as they stood up tall “you know why I had to do it. It was a job to do and you can’t blame me for hurting you while not knowing” you said as your eyes focused on every movement they made “ah, yes yes so what your saying is I should forgive you?, I should take you in with open arms while the memory dances around my mind of my friends and families blood spilling on you? Hm? Should i forgive you after I watched you murder them all without a second thought?” They asked grinning and tilting their head to the side. You hand shook lightly as you face scrunched up in displeasure “I-I don’t - I didn’t-“ you started to stumble and stutter your words at the memory of the carnage “I had to! Your family, your agency were killing innocent people!” You said trying to steady your hand once more “your nothing but a monster! A monster in disguise” you spat out “a monster? If I’m a monster then your the devil himself” they said with a snarl “ have you never thought about the people you killed to claw yourself up to where you are? Haven’t you noticed the numbers of corpus you piled up? Have you no remorse to the people who were in the same position as you? Just following orders to earn ends meat, to live?” Their voice deepened as their eyes pierced your very being

“I’ve had enough of these games, you lied about your past to me and you’ve faked your love for me as well didn’t you” your lips trembled as you continued “I did what I was told, I had to kill to survive, I know I’m a monster that I can accept that and I have no place for calling you one but you and me know damn well you would have done the same” you said as you finally let the tears fall from your eyes “hm, I suppose your right, you’ve always been so smart” they sighed “but I didn’t lie to you about my love, at the beginning yes but I grew to love you, to adore you even, but I had people and family to revenge. And you were the target I did what I had to do to climb my way to my goal. You and I Y/n aren’t so different it seems maybe that’s why I fell for you” they said a frown appearing on their face. The grip on your gun only tightened “ENOUGH!” You screamed as the sound of the gun shooting rang around in the room

Their eyes widened as the bullet charged right through them. They stumbled back and fell back, you walked over pointing you gun at them “your time is up!” You said as you frowned watching them bleed out “then in my last words I love you y/n” they said knowing the pain those word would give you, but yet it was true they had really fallen for you and your beauty but life was cruel and made you paths tangle together in this disarray and misfortune “YOUR DETERMINED TO DIE WITH A LIE ON YOUR LIPS?!?” You yelled in frustration as another bullet was shot. They gasped as they coughed as spat out blood, they smudged the coughed blood on their lip before giving a weak soft smile “I-I love you y/n” they said before giving In to the dark arms of death, you only sobbed as you saw their body go limp “oh god”

[see-the-ending]

For the Record: Locklyle

Lucy's late for coffee; Lockwood goes to investigate; cute couple-y things ensue.

Warnings: N/A, this is purely self-indulgent fluff

Word Count: 1.4K

Lockwood stared down at the thinking cloth. Scribbled writing in blue ink said “Lockwood- meet me for coffee at 6 PM.” Well, it was 6:05 and Lucy still wasn’t in the kitchen.

George glanced over from the sink, washing the dishes from his tried (and failed) experiment with the tomato toast. “Just face it, mate. She’s a no-show.”

“I don’t know, maybe she’s just running late or something.”

“She ghosted you. No pun intended. Y’know, ‘cause of like, the time with Annabel and- no? Okay. Duly noted. You’re too preoccupied with your girlfriend to laugh at my joke that you once would have thought was funny.”

Lockwood groaned and rubbed a tired hand through his hair. “Sorry, George. And she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And I hear her coming into your room when she has nightmares. You’ve never turned her away, not once. And you gave her the necklace. Every single time you’re stressed out, you reach for her hand like it’s the one thing you need to survive. She’s your girlfriend.”

“Well, we haven’t kissed or anything.”

“If you think kissing makes a relationship, you need to re-examine your priorities. I’m going upstairs and getting away from your wallowing pit of self-pity. Goodnight.” George put the plates on the rack, hung up the dish towel, and stepped out of the kitchen.

“George- okay then.” Lockwood traced his fingers over the note, in blue ink. He still couldn’t believe Lucy would purposefully neglect to show up. Could something have happened? Did she end up taking a bath with her clothes on again? He wasn’t quite sure what could have happened, but it was worth investigating. 

Walking up the stairs, he wrung his fingers together. Was going to check on her too clingy? Too forward? Would this come off as weird? Alright shut up, he told himself. It’s probably nothing and it’ll all be okay.

Lockwood took a final step onto the landing and steadied himself with a breath. His fingers rapped against the cool white wood, decorated in true Lucy Carlyle fashion, with pictures of the agency’s adventures, ghost stickers, and other odd bobbins.

“Come in!” Lucy’s voice called.

He walked up the stairs to the attic, and he saw Lucy sitting on her bed, cross-legged, glaring at him. “You’re late.”

“What do you mean I’m late? You said coffee at six.”

Lucy rubbed her fingers on her eyes. “Lockwood, what color ink was that note in?”

“Uhh… blue.”

“Right. Blue ink for my room, black for yours, red for the kitchen. Obviously.”

“Oh.”

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t remember the code. After all, you’re the one who invented it, just like the lettering system.” She scowled at him, but there was a glint in her eyes.

Lockwood scratched the back of his head. Suddenly, his tie felt really tight. His hands were clammy. It was just Lucy, why was he so nervous? “Well, if you, Miss Carlyle, will accept my heartfelt apology, I would still love to join you for coffee. I also know exactly how you take it.”

“Oh really? Then how do I?”

“An exact 2:1 ratio of sugar to cream. But you like it as long as it wakes you up, which is why you usually steal a sip of mine in the mornings. How do I take mine?”

“You put cream in until it’s the same color as my hair and two lumps of sugar.”

“Exactly. Because it reminds me of you.” He moved over to the windowsill. “That’s why I do a lot of things, actually.”

“Are you lying?” Lucy asked, a suspicious look on her face.

“Didn’t I swear?” His breath catches at the end of the question. 

Lucy pats the spot next to her on the comforter. “What’s George doing?”

“Apparently ‘getting away from my wallowing pit of self-pity’.”

“What?” Lucy started twisting her hair around her ring finger. “Weirdest thing I’ve heard him say today. Why were you ‘wallowing’?”

“Well, actually, um… you.”

Lucy stopped fidgeting. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Don’t think I’m talking to anyone else, now am I?”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Before he could think about what he was doing, Lockwood’s hand reached for hers and intertwined their fingers together. “Is… is that okay?”

Lucy nodded silently. The pair sat comfortably in the quiet, Lockwood’s thumb rubbing softly back and forth on the space between Lucy’s thumb and forefinger. Lucy found herself leaning on Lockwood’s side, her head on his shoulder. She could almost fall asleep, but Lockwood jolted, snapping her out of her trance.

“Sorry, sorry. That- I should’ve been more careful. I just remembered something and I think you would like it because I love it and it’s pretty awesome and I- I’ll go get it.”

Lockwood hurried down the steps, leaving Lucy in his wake, a confused look etched on her face. He just up and left? After being late to a date he was invited to in his own code? Wow, Lucy really didn’t understand boys.

When Lockwood returned back up to the attic, there was a battered, brown box in his hands. He set it at the foot of the bed and opened the top to reveal a record player. “Someone I was very close to… they loved this. I thought you might too.”

He took a record with a blue sleeve out of the box and blew the dust off the disk. “Wow, this hasn’t been used in years.” He rubbed his hands over the ridges of the record like they single handedly contained a lifetime’s worth of memories. The stylus made a whirring sound as the music began to play.

“D’you wanna dance?” Lockwood bowed and extended his hand.

“I’d be delighted to,” Lucy smiled as she accepted the gesture.

The singer’s voice crooned to the melody, glorifying all the bits and pieces of his lover. Lockwood raised his arm, inviting Lucy to twirl under it. They danced like it was the most natural thing in the world, spending time with your whole world, in a room where it was simply just you. Nothing else mattered, just her eyes on his, hands intertwined.

“Lucy, love, I’ve never met anyone who dances quite like you. Are you classically trained?”

She let out a small giggle. “Do I seem like I’m classically trained? I only know what I’ve seen on the television.”

They returned to the frame, Lockwood’s hand on her shoulder blade. “I always wanted to be one of those couples, you know? The guy who was considered to be Hollywood’s most attractive actor with the prettiest girl on his arm.”

“Is that why you always wear a suit then? To fulfill your childhood dream and be so gorgeous that girls swoon at the sight of you?”

“Partially. So you think I’m attractive?”

Lucy bit back a smile. “Not what I said. Don’t get cocky.”

“I was already cocky. You’ve just boosted my ego, which I’ve heard, from a certain someone, is the size of a bloated elephant with swollen ankles,” he grinned.

“In my defense, you were being incredibly narcissistic.”

“Aren’t I always? It’s my most redeeming quality. That, and my dashingly handsome face.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t need to; I have you to do that for me.”

Lucy stepped closer, pressing her body against his, her head resting on his shoulder as the music slowed to the next song. 

“Put your head on my shoulder…” Lockwood sang along with the music.

“You have a much better voice than you give yourself credit for.”

He shook his head adamantly. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay, now you’re just proving my point.”

“My parents actually put me in a children's choir when I was five. Very short-lived, not just because… well, y’know, but because I was so bad.”

“Oh wow, more of Lockwood’s mysterious past, slowly being revealed. You’ve never told me anything about this before.” Lucy smiled, her hand still on Lockwood’s bicep.

“You’ve never asked.”

“Point taken.”

They shifted slightly, never once taking their eyes off of each other. Lockwood grinned at Lucy. “I wanted to dance with you at the Fittes ball too, actually. I just couldn’t work up the courage to ask you.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes,” Lucy laughed uncomfortably. “It would’ve terrified me.”

“We’re dancing now.”

“We are.”

They swayed silently to the beat of the music. Bodies close together, the warmth comforting in the cool attic. Lucy felt like she could have stayed there forever.

-

A/N: i wrote this to get out of my writing slump and I think it worked. There are some bits of this fic I really love, not so much the ending, but I think it's okay. I hope y'all enjoyed, constructive criticism is welcome.

Tags: @waitingforthesunrise @paysomeonetopaysomeone

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Hope you had a great holidays!

And upon rewatching the series up till where we are in the anime, I just realized something.

Originally, I thought the Endeavor Agency arc was where the story started to waver simply because, unlike with Grand Torino, I don’t think Midoriya actually LEARNED anything, at least anything that I as an audience could look upon and see how he improved, I was just told he did. (Yes I focus on Midoriya because it’s HIS journey. No offense to Todoroki, Full offense to Bakugou.)

But I recently I think the first step of MHA fumbling was the Remedial Course Arc.

Our four primary protagonists didn’t have any chemistry with one another. (Even though Yorarshi was trying his best)

Camie was there just because she had boobs and an ass to play jokes off of. (And it makes no sense for Toga to have kept her alive.)

Todoroki, who has some sense of trying to reach out to people as he was the one that helped Midoriya find a way to reach Kota, is reduced to being useless and a joke just because he’s a stoic character.

The overall answer they finally settled on was not to treat the kids like people and connect with them. You know, what heroes should try to do. No, no, no, instead they use their quirks and proverbially shake keys in front of their faces to shut them up for five minutes. Putting a band-aid on a crack of a breaking dam.

There’s no sense of camaraderie of the four leads afterwards.

And Bakugou. Just…Bakugou.

He was meant to unofficially be seen as the leader of the group, which for the umteenth time highlights how he’s not leadership material.

His “if you look down on others…” quote that BakuStans love to DEATH, and Hori capitalized on by having him saying numerous times afterwards in order to make Bakugou sound changed? HE was the ONLY one looking down on the kids. And it had nothing to do with the fact they just used their quirks to bedazzled the kids. Doesn’t guarantee that the kids will behave afterwards. It was made just for him to look like he had “CD”.

And after said quote, Bakugou goes on to being a narcissistic hothead and actually seems to DOUBLE DOWN on many of his negative traits, with the story trying to hard to simply tell, “No, No! See Bakugou has done this! It’s an absolute one eighty of his character!”

Maybe I am thinking too much, but this arc really is a negative one and a huge waste of time.

Hope you also had a wonderful holiday weekend 😊.

Honestly I agree. Nothing against Endeavor having his own arc, but it felt pointless as an arc where Izuku was supposed to grow too. It did have some good moments like where Endeavor tells Natsuo that he doesn’t have to forgive him and where Endeavor admits to himself that he’s willing to move away from his family if it means they can be happy. In terms of the four students made to take the courses, I agree that they didn’t feel like they have a sense of unity. Speaking of which, doesn’t anyone else find it messed up that Camie has to take the courses despite being drugged and kidnapped while the test was going on? They should’ve just let her redo the exam without having to take the courses.

[asphodelical]

Brief FFXV/XVI comparisons

Knowing the dev team of FFXIV headed FFXVI, it feels like they were singing, “Anything you can do, I can do Better” in the face of FFXV. Many of the key story elements and beats are identical: An orphaned prince clad in black who was a supposed heir to a noble bloodline, the hero’s kingdom being destroyed in the beginning, a deadly plague that is slowly consuming the world and its people, etc. Hell, they both end with a 1v1 duel and both the heroes and villains die at the end. Except FFXVI actually has a cohesive, more focused narrative, better lore, and smarter world building. It also has a massive advantage over FFXV since it is a self contained story—not a bullshit multimedia project where you have to watch a movie, an OVA and play four separate DLC games. 

Things I liked: 

Torgal. Best boy.

Mothercrystals - Both the crystal’s role and appearance are really fucking cool. It takes the basic premise of the original FF games, and looks at it realistically. (Though I felt robbed since we didn’t see the heart of the purple crystal in Waloed.)

The interpretation of the summons and Dominants. - Similar to the crystals, I like how people across Valisthea have such different thoughts on the Dominants: fear, reverence, worship, etc. Their character designs are very appealing. It’s also great to see summons who haven’t appeared in a game in well over a decade. 

Cid - Easily a candidate for the best Cid, only rivaling Cid Highwind and maybe Balthier’s dad. He was one of the few characters who had a distinct voice. (Along with Mid.) 

The music - Opinions on this game are all over the place. The one thing everyone universally agrees on is the music fucking rules. It definitely deserved its prize at the Game Awards. Great job, Masayoshi Soken. 

The Hades-esque combat system for Clive. It was fun experimenting with all the powers and abilities.

Nektar - MOOGLE. We actually had a moogle in a FF game for the first time since FFIX. HAPPY DAYS. 

No day/night cycle. No fishing. No forced mini games. Fast travel was accessible from the start. Blessed dreams.

Things I didn’t like: 

Jill is useless. She has no agency. Her confrontation with her abusers was ruined, since Clive did all the fighting in that encounter. They should’ve done what they did with Joshua, and given us control over Jill/Shiva just that one time. After the ocean fight with Barnabas, why did she waste time creating a path on the ocean floor, instead of turning into Shiva and flying themselves out of there? So stupid. And don’t get me started on the sad excuse for a romantic relationship she had with Clive. What a waste of the only female party member. (Also, why does she look so much like Tifa?)

Lack of interaction with other party members, and a lack of a core party - Sparse off the cuff conversations/remarks, no tag team attacks, no breathing room for these characters to simply exist. And when they do, it feels out of place. (I.E. the optional picnic scene with Jill and Clive that felt like watching two rocks try to talk to each other.) Final Fantasy has always been a franchise that has always had a group of eccentrics of different ages, creeds, and species banding together to fight a shared enemy. FFXVI loses that entirely. With a large portion of the game just being Clive and Torgal, this could be any other dark-ish fantasy game. (My ideal core party would be Clive, Joshua, Cid, who would then be replaced by Mid. Byron, Gav and Dion would rotate as guest party members. Jill can go away.)

Lack of good character writing and dialogue. It feels like a redux of FFXII, where the dialogue is dramatic, poetic, and oh gosh no almost everyone talks the same, and the core cast has such little personality.

Too many characters and too many unnecessary story elements. - Torgal being a frost wolf? Doesn’t matter. Sleipnir being an ‘egi’? Doesn’t matter. Spend more time on your characters, dammit!

How every goal, main and side, is impeded by a seven step process. Oh, we have to get through this gate? Well first you have to talk to five people for a fetch quest, run to another area, and defeat two rounds of mooks followed by a mini boss. GIVE ME A BREAK. Are you so insecure about your story and its run time that you have to have bumps in the road at every single turn? 

The length of the boss battles. If I weren’t on story mode, some of these battles would take me over an hour (and multiple tries). The Bahamut fight in particular was absolutely absurd.

So many of the problems could’ve been solved if characters just waltzed into places and killed their targets immediately. Clive could’ve stabbed Hugo in the back before the hallucinations kicked in. If Dion just threw his lance at Anabella or Olivier instead of making a whole fucking speech, then maybe he wouldn’t have killed his dad. It feels like nearly everyone in the game is just stupid. 

[false-idol-comic]

Author’s Notes: Yooo it’s Super Sleuth David time!  And if you’re wondering where his shades came from, he had them at the model agency.  He only pulls them out in times of need, when he needs to channel his SUPER SLEUTH ABILITIES!  But for real I love this page which is very odd because it’s the type of page that I absolutely hate.  It’s a transition page.  And I’ll let you peek behind the curtain in order to understand why this page is so fucking great.

So, on its surface this page is the most inconsequential as a page can be.  It’s sandwiched between two very big scenes, scenes that I’ve been pouring over the dialogue, subject matter, and jokes.  It is a key example of purpose writing because as a writer I had to think, “Okay, we have just finished this long scene.  We’re finally out of this flashback, but we can’t just jump into the next scene. We need to regroup with the characters, and get them in the right space to get us into the next scene!” But we just came down from a massive scene how are we going to kickstart into the next one after such a heavy and wholesome moment? Maybe we can have a break where we can see what all the characters think, maybe give some of the other players at the table a chance to shine.  But everyone should be on the same page right now, there’s no input that would be really interesting and any debate about what Dan is talking about would be derivative and seem like a waste of time if not a weak attempt at forced-conflict. Because the whole point of this page is to get our characters to stop focusing on the drama, and get them from asking “what happened to Sandy?” to asking, “Why didn’t Sandy tell Mike?” Because it should be obvious to the audience and to our characters that Sandy never told Mike about Dan.  But how do we get them from point A to B without it being a transparent transition page, that gives the audience nothing to enjoy?

But then I thought of how to start this page and immediately rememberes: David!  Super Sleuth David!  That’s a great opportunity to bring up the question that needs to be asked in order to get us to the next scene, while still having fun.  And we can have it where he almost knows too much, but not enough, and he doesn’t illustrate the point ham-fistedly because it’s fucking Savid and his dialogue lends itself to oversimplification even while spelling out everything. He gets the write answer, while following the wrong process.  With this, we get the characters to ask the right question, reset the momentum that we slowed from ending the last scene, and get the audience caught up on how to think about the next scene.   

Because believe it or not there is a twist, and if you pay close attention you’ll figure out what it is, but you won’t if you’re asking the wrong question.  Because if you’re hung up on “Oh boy, Sandy cheated on Mike what a twist!” you need to ask more questions.  You should’ve been asking, “Why did Sandy cheat on Mike?” and then as the scene progressed, you’d wonder “Why didn’t Sandy leave Mike for Dan?” and at the end of the scene you might be tricked into asking, “Did Sandy tell Mike?” but that answer was right in front of you the entire time.  She didn’t, and everyone knew this.  Even David knew this, the real question that you and our characters should be asking is, “Why didn’t Sandy tell Mike?” and to answer that you must ask a different question, 

“What happened to make Sandy change her mind?”

And there...

There the twist lies.

Also, PS: dear god I hate how I drew Daisy’s face, she has one of the most unique faces of the main cast and it’s been so long since I’ve drawn her that I fucked it all up.  I’m so sorry.

[dorimena]

Yea request are open! I’ve been thinking about it lately from another fic but would Hawks be able to get off from his own feathers being used on him like a vibrator? Maybe not just on the outside of him but also the inside if possible or would the feathers break? Really I just want the bird man to get overstimulated but I didn’t know if you’re okay with writing for him so just ignore this if you don’t

Hey! Nice to see you slide into the confessional again! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Hope you don't mind that this is going to be Hawks' debut into the covent for the thirsty people ready to confess their deepest desires on what to do with this man-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Takami Keigo - Hawks

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 855

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; gender neutral reader, sex toys (vibrator, dildo, fleshlight), but the mentioned toys are somehow made from his feathers, implied orgasm denial, masturbation, caught, mentioned choking, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; silly monologue, Keigo wondering how he didn’t know he could do this sooner, reader wondering why Keigo didn’t know

𝕴 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖘

It was probably something he didn’t even know was possible until he made it become possible.

As far as Keigo knew, his feathers were either to be weapons, an aid, a shield, even a tracking device, kinda. But he never thought he could use them for his own selfish pleasure.

You’ve been neglecting him for weeks now, always running off and around because of work. It has him tempted to try convincing you, for the hundredth time, to quit your shitty job and work with him in his agency, but you always told him that this job is your dream job. So he’ll just respect that, but he won’t ever respect your boss or coworkers for using you like some slave to the industry.

Okay, maybe he’s just giving himself an unnecessary backstory to justify how the fuck he managed to get his feathers, the ones he grew up with for most part of his life, to fucking vibrate against his dick.

Vibrate. How do feathers even vibrate?

Well, how could feathers become lethal weapons is another question to answer another time.

But holy-

“Fuck! Fuck, that feels good.”

Keigo can’t help but groan, and if a little cute whimper followed, he ignored it. He doesn’t want to accept he’s already close to cumming, less beginning to already lose his cool.

Not like it mattered, considering you would always figure out new ways to make him lose his cool, his tranquility, his collectiveness, his ‘she-calls-me-daddy-too’ persona.

God, what would you fucking do to him if you found out his feathers are transportable, automatic, intensity level 7 vibrators?

He jerks his hips away from his 3 feathers, breathing heavily as he watches how they move, how they shake, how the tip of each feather was covered in his own precum. Ew, no wonder he keeps feeling something sticky cooling on his cheek, and here he thought he was beginning to cry-

Wait, nevermind, his hand can very much confirm he might’ve shed a tear.

Wiping away the droplets of water, whether it be other tears or simply his sweat, Keigo ponders over his next question: could he fuck himself with these newly discovered vibrators?

Great, now he feels weird.

Not because of his question but because of how… Well, his feathers still feel soft, even if having them in a certain abundance and covered with a condom. His makeshift vibrating dildo made by his dearest and loveable feathers keeps prodding at his already prepared hole (thanks to one of your buttplugs.)

Which reminds him: will you be coming home soon? Not so much because of the sheer embarrassment of having to clean your buttplug instead of one of his, but more so to maybe see your raw reaction about this scenario-

“SHIT- FUCK!”

Okay, maybe he should’ve also, like, paid attention to the fact his feathery dildo (ugh, come on, Keigo, name it something else) had been trying to enter him for the past few minutes. But instead of some slow, gentle, sensual insertion, he decided to fuck himself as hard as you usually thrust inside of him.

Just how much did he miss you?

“S-so much! Too much- Miss you~” He whispers to absolutely no one but his feathers and pillows under him, cheek planted on one of the plush, soft materials as he prepares himself for-

“Hnngh!”

That pornographic whimper once he activated the vibration mode.

And when you finally came home, instead of a clingy, pouty, loving boyfriend greeting you at the door and helping you with your stuff, you’re lead by the invisible string to your bedroom, eyes widening in amazement at the sheer impossible yet fucking sexy scene before you:

Keigo, in his trembling, toe curling, back arching and chest puffing position, thrusting into the makeshift fleshlight from his vibrating feathers-

Huh!?

You quickly cover your mouth, hoping that your choked gasp of disbelief drowned in his equally choked gasping and moaning.

Oh, he’s choking himself.

Let’s assess the man who the public admire as their #2 prohero and how he’s never, ever mentioned how his feathers could vibrate.

Again, you’ve walked into him trembling while he’s fucking a fleshlight and being fucked by a dildo made by his own feathers that, for some reason unknown, are imitating the sound and movement of the 7th setting on his wand vibrator.

You don’t really get much time to actually find the reasons and name facts to explain this erotic scene before Keigo’s grabbing one of the pillows and smothering his face with it, drowning out his screams and growls of being overwhelmed by the powerful orgasm his body catapaulted into, especially with how, prior to your arrival, he had been trying to convince himself that denying his orgasm for possibly the 10th time in barely under an hour was going to do more harm than good to him and his sanity.

[linphd]

Falling for their f*ck buddy | Headcanons (bit NSFW)

gender neutral

-> This is based on RPs I had with my OC lmaooo… a bit angsty ! oops !

-> Keigo Takami, Touya Todoroki, Rumi Usagiyama.

Hawks | Keigo Takami

When you started working at Endeavor’s agency, Hawks was already head over heels for you. However, due to his link with the hero commission, he couldn’t really date anyone -even less another hero that was already in the top of the rankings only a year after graduating.

Yet, he managed to sneak in your apartment after a party ; you both weren’t drunk as Endeavor was watching you, but he had whined about never having seen where you lived despite being a « so good » colleague. Sure you found him cute, you used to have a crush on him when you were in high school and he had just started being a pro, after all. But still.

He told you you were his first time. It felt wrong. « What ?! But you should’ve done it with someone you love instead ! That was… random ?! » you replied. « How am I supposed to even love someone, hm ? The hero commission is babysitting me as fuck. » Well… you couldn’t have thought of anything to say.

One other thing was that he learned very quickly -because, indeed, you fucked him several other times after that, late at work or after hero parties- how to please you, and you couldn’t just go back to some random boyfriends that couldn’t even do the simplest things.

Maybe your crush from high school had come back, or maybe you were just blinded by how good he was. But it felt like he wasn’t just a fuck buddy anymore, now. If so, why would you be doing his skin care in front of a movie after having taken a bath together where you laid your back against his chest ? Guess « releasing some steam » was just a cover to the hero commission to him, but who knows ?

Dabi | Touya Todoroki

You weren’t scared to go out really late in the night in unknown places ; your quirk was powerful enough to have made you a member of the Top Three at U.A. So, you never really considered yourself in danger. Going to crowded places ? Sure. Getting drunk with strangers ? No problem !

After meeting Dabi at a bar, it was quite fast for you to agree to hook up ; you liked older guys -and also had questionable tastes in men- and he just thought you looked slutty. Yes, he knew you were a student at U.A ; he had seen you on TV for the sports festival. But you didn’t know he was a villain (it’s an AU okay??). So, when he asked for your name, you gave him a fake one, and he did just the same.

He would’ve just left after he was done with you, but you were his best sexual partner ever and he was tired : so, he stayed overnight and only left the morning, after you told him that it was weird for him to hang around. Yet, every time you would walk by each other, you would end up in your bed with him -until he finally gave you his number.

Throughout time, he became closer to you and you spent more time together ; getting him a skincare to help him with his scars, painting his nails better as he sucked at it, yet never talking about y’all personal lives. « Can you pick me up ? Just steal a car or whatever, I know you do stuff like that. » you asked him, by text. « Why would I do that ? Go by foot. » « They used quirk eraser on me, I’m scared now. I ran away from those guys, they were scary. »

No need sending another text, he was on his way after checking your location. But why was he even on his way ? He never cared about the people he fucked. Never gave them his number neither ; but you were cute and a U.A student, both were advantages. When he arrived, he saw you curled up and on the verge of tears. He didn’t ask much, he just drove you home. Didn’t even spend the night with you, genuinely just accompanying you.

That’s why you thought you had developed feelings for him, and vice versa for him. He could just never admit it, you were almost a pro hero anyways, and you would find out eventually. And eventually you did, as when his boss decided to attack 1A, you were there. The Big Three had to accompany the 1st years camping. You recognized the blue flames -he had used them on you several times to be kinky- and then you recognized him. He has never seen you again since that night.

Miruko | Rumi Usagiyama

You didn’t plan on becoming Miruko’s plaything. She had been helping several times at your agency, and you had met more than once at hero parties. She liked you and considered you a friend ; you were a new pro that was still not broken from the job, and you were quite hopeful.

It changed once you both got drunk at a party and when you decided to go to her place to bitch about all the heroes that were there -stinky and old and only talking about boring stuff. Endeavor had to drive you -he was a very disappointed boss, but whatever. You were sat on the couch, eventually talking about your love life.

« I don’t know why people don’t date you, you’re like so sexy ! Why don’t people date you ? » she asked. « I should ask you that ! » you replied. « People are intimidated by muscular women like me ! They should know better. » she said. « They should only be intimidated by how easily you could pick them up. You could totally do that ! »

It didn’t make much sense, but as she decided to pick you up, you both fell on the couch, and it escalated quickly. Miruko was indeed intimidating, so you were glad that she took the league. And it didn’t change all the times y’all did it. Even sober. She would always take the lead, but she would be so sweet about it ? It was not the same as the other sexual encounters you had had.

« Is (Y/N) coming to the party or what ? » she asked Hawks. « Probably. Endeavor told me he would work late tonight, so I guess they have to follow him. » she sighed. « They’re the only reason I come to this kind of party ! » the woman whined. « Yeaaaah, we all know you only want a little plaything around you. » Hawks jokingly said. « It’s more than that. I just want them to be around all the time. » Cue to Miruko realizing that if she wants to spend that much time with you, it’s because you might be more than her plaything…

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

≛ 𝘧𝘵. 𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴.

≛ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵. 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

≛ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴: 1𝘬

≛ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢 /𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘥𝘰𝘮 (𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪), 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 18. 𝘥𝘶𝘩.

𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘶:

i’m gonna be honest

that whole “innocent bby deku🥺” shit is played out. this man will demolish your pussy and will not apologize for it.

izuku has the full capacity to be rough in bed, so don’t let his sweet and demure presence fool you

he’s really into overstim surprisingly enough

watching you stir and keen as you cum again for the third time in a row fills him with a sense of pride

knowing nobody else could make you whine like this, make you sputter and stumble over each word, make you cream all over the dick the way he does

he also adores fucking you to the point where you can’t form a comprehensible sentence

he’ll give you deep, slow strokes while holding a bullet vibe directly to your swollen clit, pine eyes sparkling as he watches you plead for him to stop, yet buck your hips into him, chasing another orgasm.

calls you bunny instead of puppy bc ew

“you’re so insatiable, bunny. you like it when i—ah, fuck!—tease your pussy like this? ‘like it when i take what’s mine?”

the pleasure is overwhelming, insurmountable as he brings you to that prepice over and over again until you’re crying.

he’ll then flip you onto your stomach, hands digging into the dimples and slopes of your hips before absolutely impaling you on his length

he’s thick, and comes in at a solid 6-7 inches, so you’re always sore after a round or two

also

breeding kink. like a major one.

izuku wasn’t always the most confident in his abilities as a boyfriend let alone a lover

so when you started letting him cum inside you it was a huge boost

likes breeding you before work so he can think about the guys that hit on you in the break room smelling the scent of sex all over your body as you walk past them, sticky white fluid creeping down the leg of your pantyhose.

he couldn’t keep other guys from looking at you, but he could damn sure remind you of who you belonged to.

oh, and he’ll slide two fingers in once he’s done and scoop as much of his cum between them as possible before slipping them in your mouth so he can watch you suck it all off

this mf is possessive and nasty.

𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰:

facefucking.

that’s it. send tweet

nah but in all seriousness, katsuki loves watching your eyes well up with tears as you squeeze and milk his dick for all it’s worth.

he’s a good 7-7.5 inches

not an insane amount of girth but the length more than compensates for it

most definitely uses it as a punishment

and isn’t afraid to do it while you’re in public either

which brings us to his exhibition kink

he’s very prideful when it comes to his reputation as a hero, so you would think that it would keep him from doing anything scandal worthy

wrong

it only adds to the searing arousal he gets from watching your tongue fondle his sensitive head, knees bruised from being beneath him for so long

it’s a power trip for him, especially if he’s in costume

depending on your behavior, he’ll be generous and let you swallow while praising your performance

or he’ll wrap a hand around the back of your neck, slide your mouth off of his spit-soaked cock, and stroke himself until his cum splatters all over your eyelashes, fully debauching you in the desolate alleyway

he’s made you walk back home with cum all over your face before, after you’d been particularly bratty over the course of a week

“katsuki! i can’t walk back home like this, what if someone notices?!”

“should’ve thought about that before you decided to visit me while you weren’t wearing any fuckin’ panties. nasty little girl...now hurry up and get a move on, and you better not wipe it off either.”

loves the thrill of humiliating you

unrelated, but he’s an ass man through and through, taking such pleasure in watching it jiggle and ripple under each heavy blow he delivers

takes photos of the marks afterwards and has an album for em.

he also loves fucking you on different surfaces around your penthouse (and his agency)

the man is territorial

so what better way to mark his territory than by making his gorgeous girlfriend squirt and cream all over it?

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰:

babe i am so sorry for your neighbors

cause if there’s nothing else shinsou loves it’s to make you scream

he’s got a corruption kink, but not in the way most people do

he doesn’t give a damn if you’re sweet and innocent, or if you’ve got the mouth of a sailor and could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch

what matters to him is making you lose your composure.

one day you’d been anticipating a call back from a job interview you’d gone to a few days prior

and shinsou just so happened to be observing your blissed-out expression as he ground into you from below, your body atop his

when your damned phone started ringing

being the sly little shit that he is, he saw an opportunity

“answer the phone pretty girl...don’t wanna keep them waiting, do you?”

reaching for your buzzing cell, you press the green ‘accept’ button, raising the device to your ear as you jolt forward

“hello, may i speak to y/n?” a chipper voice chimed through the receiver.

“t-this is sh-she. how can i—ah!—help you?” you garble your words, trying to suppress your moans

hitoshi merely takes this as a challenge, opting to drive into you deeper whilst trying to keep the noise down, it’s less fun when it’s obvious what you two are doing

his dick is thick as FUCK. 6 going on 7 inches but honestly you couldn’t give less of a fuck with the way he’s stretching you

surprisingly enough you managed your way through the phone call, telling the white lie of “helping the neighbors move”

but little did you know this was only the beginning of hitoshi’s new favorite pastime

he’s another exhibitionist too

so uh...good luck with that

remote control vibrators on dinner dates, fingers stuffed deep inside your sloppy cunt while he makes small talk with your mom at the dinner table,

even kneeling beneath your desk and sending you to heaven and back while you’re on a video call with your fucking boss.

he’s addicted to watching you fall apart, and is more than willing to apply that pressure.

𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘪:

dabi’s dick would fuck anyone stupid.

let’s make that clear.

it’s canon that he’s got a jacob’s ladder, blah blah blah, but let’s discuss how fucking pretty it is

creeping in at a firm eight inches, and about 4 and a half in girth with a drool-worthy mauve tip, his shaft slightly lighter than the rest of his tanned, unscarred skin

it’s dangerous, barbells running up the underside of his shaft or not

definitely into temperature play

and i’m not talking about that soft shit like warming up his fingers whilst they’re plunging in and out of your sweet center

no no no

that fucker will BRAND you and will not apologize

you’re his pretty little cumdump, and he’ll stake his claim upon your body how ever the hell he pleases

degradation is a given.

“—what a fuckin’ whore. tch, you really think you deserve this dick?”

“how about you get on your knees and beg for it then if you’re so damn needy.”

“quit your god damn whining, or i swear i’ll leave you spread out on this fuckin’ bar for shiggy to find. maybe i’ll even get a promotion for giving him such a slutty little bitch to use.”

“what’s wrong? does it hurt sweetheart? can’t take it after you talked all that shit earlier?” you shake your head no, thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain the position dabi’s folded you into. “...good.” he smirks, eyes gleaming with malice before pounding you to filth, cries spilling from your mouth as you beg for release, knowing he won’t give it to you.

making you cry? a specialty of dabi’s. your tears get him harder than anything; to watch your lips quiver as you sniffle, wiping away tears while he palms himself through his sweats

has shown you off to shigaraki, and will not hesitate to tongue your fluids off his digits while carrying on a full conversation with the other man.

after all, when you know your toy’s better than someone else’s, you tend to brag.

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪:

speaking of this mf

he’s the reason gamer boys get the rep of having massive dicks

cause god damn did you not expect this man to be slinging around eight bordering on nine inches of dick. four and a half to five inches of girth. poor you.

he’s also got a penchant for angry sex, so if that’s not enough of an indication that you’re going to have trouble walking afterwards i don’t know what is

but one thing he loves more than taking you apart piece by piece and cumming inside of you with zero remorse?

doing it when he’s in the middle of a game, and he’s online with the party’s voice chat.

“mmm—god, you really will do anything i tell you....swallowing every inch while these guys get to listen, and you’re not even embarrassed, you’re getting off on it!”

“i love little sluts like you, always doing whatever it takes just to have a cock pry them open at all times. that’s what you are, right? my little slut, made for me to do whatever i want to.”

yes, he’s made you whine so sweetly for him, cry as you beg him to touch you, while he plays fucking valorant.

and you can’t count how many times he’s mocked the way you gag and choke on his massive length while he played genshin impact with random guys online.

is a sucker for a good set of nudes, and isn’t afraid to ask for them on a regular basis

plus he just likes taking pictures/videos of you in general, saving them to a private album of his phone for him to use when you’re not there

he may parade you around as though you’re a lifeless fuckdoll, but if nothing else he’s possessive, and would rather relive the pain of losing to all might than let another man see you the way he does

but i’ll be honest, tomura’s not always a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a huge dick.

he’s also a teasing, possessive, vindictive asshole with a thing for being dominated....and a huge dick.

see, it balances out!

it started with a bet that if he lost another round of mortal kombat you got to peg him

it took a lot of convincing, but he agreed to the terms, certain he’d win regardless

and after button smashing like your life depended on it with subzero, you managed to secure the win.

a grin stapled itself to your face after being treated to two hours of tomura’s incessant sobs and wails

“mhm—please...i can’t take it—ah! fuck, fuck, fuck! right there!”

“don’t make me work for it, i promise you’ll never be player two again, just please let me cum—m’ so close..”

game nights are always fun with him, you can count on it.

𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴:

my god my god

i’m gonna say it right now: keigo doesn’t eat pussy for you.

he does it for him.

and that makes all the difference in the fucking world when he’s pulling you to sit on his face

scruff scratching at your inner thighs deliciously as he makes you squirt alllll over aforementioned facial hair, rolling your hypersensitive clit between soft lips and a fluid tongue

he could stay between your thighs for hours and hours on end

will propose to devour you in the most inappropriate of places

and honestly? isn’t the least bit ashamed about it. elevators, in front of large office windows just a few stories above the street where you’re just barely visible to the people below,

on endeavor’s decorative towels after he spread them out on the floor so he could fuck you senseless on top of them, etc.

the flame hero had pissed him off earlier, and he needed to exert some petty rage. this was most sensible use of his energy.

also in case it wasn’t obvious: breeding kink. duh.

no thoughts head empty just hawks begging to breed you during his rut

“come on pretty girl, let me make you a momma....can’t wait to stuff you full of my chicks....”

he blushes so deeply when he’s close to cumming

and boy does he fucking whine

dick is just as pretty as he is, he’s a good 6 inches with a three inch girth; tip flushed and pink

definitely cherishes intimacy during sex

and will certainly go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable/desired

he could have all the money/fame in the world

and it still wouldn’t compare to the feeling of your thighs suffocating him while he slurps at your cunt like it’s his last meal.

[whorefordazai]

can i request ranpo, dazai and atsushi with a gf whos kinda like a bruh girl and she sends them a picture of her in the shower with a hair spiked up with shampoo asking if they want soapy tiddy pics and they say yes as a joke not expecting her to actually send them but she does and how they would react! :0 (ahanhsdn sorry if this is too specific)

soapy tiddy pics ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) part 1

(part 2)

I literally did not know what to title this AHAHA 🏃🏼‍♀️💨 I’m too high for this rn🦧 I changed it up a tiny bit so I hope you don’t mind!

ft. ranpo | dazai | atsushi x reader

genre: comedy, crack

warnings: none

Ranpo:

It was around late evening and Ranpo was sitting around in his desk, utterly bored out of his mind.

He had just come back from solving a case he had no interest in (the only reason he did it was to get Fukuzawa’s praise😆)

While lounging around, he decided to suck on a lollipop and text you.

ranpo: heyy where are you😋?

you: taking a shower. when are you coming home?

ranpo: dunno. you’ll have to come pick me up since idk the bus routes!

Reading that last text made you laugh, so you decided to put your phone down and wash the rest of your hair.

But an idea popped into your head😦⁉️

Since your hair was covered in shampoo, you decided to spike it all the way up, so that it looked like a Mohawk.

Covered in soap duds, you took a picture smiling, and sent it to Ranpo.

When he got the picture, a big smile appeared on his face.

ranpo: you look cute😚

you: it would be better if you were here with me though <3

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his lips.

you: should I send tits?😁

(Y/n what the fuck, that was bold😦⁉️)

ranpo: sure!

Meanwhile, in the shower you were laughing your ass off. He knew you were joking, so he didn’t expect any real answer.

Not even two minutes later, he got a text from his phone.

A soapy tiddy pic😋🤟

When he got the text (not expecting anything like a picture), his eyes widened like saucers.

Couldn’t ultra deduc this ass🙄

He definitely stared at the photo for five minutes straight, unable to form words with a giddy smile on his lips.

This is better than candy!

In the pic, you still had a Mohawk but your boobs and shoulders were covered in soap duds ◕ ◡ ◕

Ranpo couldn’t even text you anymore, his hands were shaking from joy. So he called you😳

“Y/n! I didn’t expect you to actually send it!”

You could only laugh into the speaker, still in the shower.

“...come pick me up now😡I want to see you.”

You raised your eyebrows. He finally seemed eager for something😏

Dazai

This mf wasn’t at work, wasn’t at home, god knows where he was.

He had run away again from the agency to avoid paperwork, but hadn’t come home to you yet.

He was extremely bored, too bored to go home and too bored to walk😫

So he texted you😙

dazai: heyy are you at home ≧◡≦?

you: yup, in the shower. come home and I’ll make you food.

dazai: but that means I’ll have to walk home. And walking takes too much energyy ｡-_-｡

Meanwhile, you were in the shower washing your hair and coming up with an idea. You quickly spiked up your hair to make it look like a Mohawk.

Positioning the camera from the shoulders and above, you smiled to take a pic.

When he got the little ping! for your text, his eyebrows raised.

Immediately saved the photo🙄

dazai: YOU LOOK ADORABLE. send me boobs pls ¬‿¬🙏

You cackled in the shower, still covered in soap. Shrugging your shoulders, you thought ‘fuck it’ and took the pic.

When I tell you this man did not expect you to actually send your boobs😄

Immediately horny.

But also, you had a soapy Mohawk so😄hot??

He was in public so he had to take a few deep breaths and control his breathing. Frantically looking around, he hid the phone in his coat so that no one would peek.

Of course he saved the photo🙄

He quickly cleared his throat and composed himself to call you.

“Ahem, belladonna, that was unexpected ʘ‿ʘ”

“You said you were bored, do you wanna come home no-”

“Definitely ʘ‿ʘ !”

When you’re at home in bed, he’d look at you with a giddy smile. Wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your chest.

“Darling, maybe...maybe you could send those more often ◕ ◡ ◕”

“......ok (^з^)!”

Once he realizes you’re more than happy to send boobs, he’d frequently ask you more. Like just randomly text you:

dazai: hey shawty ily💗 send boobs please😫🙏

Wdym you can’t?? So what if you’re at work🤨??

dazai: I feel depressed. send boobs.

dazai: boobs now. please.

dazai: boobs.

Atsushi

I think we can all guess this man’s innocent reaction😏

I mean, he’s never seen boobs before you came along. And even then, he’s too scared to even look at them. If he ever caught himself staring at your chest, he’d feel so guilty🙏

Give him a break, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you😞 (you deserve boobs and so much more sushi)

But for the sake of this scenario, let’s say the both of you were at home after coming back from a mission.

He let you shower first, so that meant he got to rest his feet on the couch for a while.

But he was getting kinda bored ¬_¬

So he decided to text you. He knew you always brought your phone in the shower anyways. He didn’t think you’d be too bothered by his antics.

atsushi: hello ^.^

you: hi? what’s up?

He raised his eyebrows when he got the text back. He didn’t expect you to even notice😳

atsushi: just a little bored ^o^

you: that’s why I said you should’ve joined me.

Cue him choking on air.

Totally be panicking and flustered at your suggestion.

atsushi: noᵔᴥᵔ are you almost done?

Instead of texting back, you decided to spike your hair up into a Mohawk and take a picture, smiling.

When he got the picture, his face immediately lit up. You were so adorable ( ･_･)♡

atsushi: send another pic ◕3◕?

You raised your eyebrows, mischief on your mind.

You sent him a soapy tiddy pic😁

When he got the notification, he opened it up with absolutely no hesitation.

Cue choking on air again

Would try to furiously look away but can’t help but be drawn to your cute smile and spiked up hair.

He can forgive you this time ಥ_ಥ

When you come out of the shower, he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes. He’d try to act mad😏

“Y/n! W-what was that for😨?”

“Boobs?”

“I MEANT...forget it”

He didn’t exactly hate it.

Atsushi would just hug you and mumble into your neck “please don’t scare me like that ever again without warning”

“ʘ‿ʘ?”

a/n: either this photo is unnecessarily funny or I’m too buzzed to think straight:

[realcube]

TELLING THE BNHA BOYS YOU WANT TO SIT ON THEIR FACE | hcs + drabble

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request <3

characters ♡ kaminari, bakugo, sero & tamaki

content warning ♡ sexual references, fem!reader, all aged up! - minors dni

denki kaminari 

♡ it depends how confidently you say it 

♡ if you’re clearly embarrassed, he’ll be too

♡ but if you own your statement, it’ll prompt him to be more self-assured and forward 

♡ so he’ll either by completely red in the face and tell you to stop messing with him, or his lips will curl into a suggestive smirk as he encourages to act on your claim 

♡ also if you’re not really the type of person who talks about sexual acts too often or casually, he’ll pop a hard-on 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

he was lazily sprawled out across the two-seated couch, his legs lay were you were going to sit and it took every bone in your body to resist the urge to just yank his legs away yourself, since you had been training all day so your legs were in agony, all you wanted to do was sit down and relax. but he prevented you from doing that, so you finally spoke up, “denki, could you move your legs, please?”

kaminari looked up from his phone to see you pouting, bags in hand as you waited for him to let you take a seat. he was feeling especially mischievous today so instead of just retracting his legs like he usually would, he shrugged and hummed, “eh, no. the floor looks comfy though. maybe try that.” 

you scoffed, dropping your bags and hastily wrapping your hands around his ankles before aggressively tugging on them, “move it! you’re stupid fucking face looks comfy!”

he froze, staring at you with wide eyes but you continued to pull at his legs as you had yet to process what you just said as you meant in more as trash-talk rather in a sexual way. 

suddenly, he flipped his position so he way now laying down on his back, his head resting on the seat you were trying to obtain as he stared up at you with starry eyes, “sit, then!”

katsuki bakugo

♡ goes red in embarrassment, anger and horny 

♡ at first he yells about how immature you are but then his mindless threats begin to turn more..erotic?

♡ he’s like ‘fucking do it then! sit on my face! i fucking dare you! don’t be a pussy! do it!’

♡ and you kinda just stand there like ??? is he being serious ???

♡ he was being dead serious 

♡ he can’t have anyone knowing that he wants you but he does want you so he shows it through anger and hopes that you are aroused rather than frightened

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

you walked into the theatre by bakugo’s side, not as his date or anything - definitely not - but because he had ‘accidentally’ bought an extra ticket for a movie that you had been talking to your co-workers at the agency about and now that you thought about it, you recalled that bakugo was in ear-shot of the conversation while he was making his coffee in the lounge. 

anyway, the movie had yet to begin but most who were seated remained silent as they watched the trailers. he glanced at you before shifting his gaze onto all the rows of seats in front of y’all, “where do ya want to sit?” he mumbled, casually popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. 

he simply asked just in case you had a preferred location or an eye-sight problem that he was unaware of so you almost made him choke on his corn when you replied with a click of your tongue, “your face.”

once he coughed up the kernel lodged in this esophagus, he turned to shoot you a deadly glare, “what the fuck?!” 

afraid that you might have made him uncomfortable, you threw you hands up in defence and hastily tried to change the subject before he created a scene in the middle of the silent theatre, “sorry! i just meant it as a joke- erm, sitting at the back would be nic--”

before you could finish, bakugo grabbed you by the collar and dragged you out of the room, towards the cinema bathroom and..you know what happens next. 

hanta sero

♡ probably incited you to say it lol

♡ he’s like ‘aight bet’

♡ you should know better than to try tease this man bc he is going to make you follow up

♡ not forcefully, but he becomes so racy that it’s hard for you to not just..take a seat :)

♡ he doesn’t get flustered bc he’s too cool for that (⌐■_■)

♡ also he’s horny asf all the time so even if he’s literally never talked to you before, he’ll immediately be escorting you to an area where y’all can be in private

♡ after he’s made you cum for like the fifth time he’ll be like ‘so what’s your name? :)’

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

friendly banter was something you should’ve learned to avoid. from when bakugo chased you around the school after you made a comment about deku being number one, to when iida gave you a 20 minute lecture when he heard you joke about skipping class - jesting with your friends never ended well for you so why did you think today was any exception?

though those things were in past, you had moved on; you had gotten a fresh new job at a new agency along with an old classmate of yours who you’ve since gotten closer to - pro-hero cellophane. 

you were casually chatting to him in the break-room, making friendly conversation with him as you had deduced that your bad luck with banter was exact that, bad luck - hardly anything that can’t be avoided, or so you thought. 

“exactly!” sero nodded, agreeing with the comment you made on internships, “my mentor kept making me go on these elaborate missions with them but seriously, i was just there to get a recommendation letter, save some people, have a hot hero-girl sit on my face then dip, y’know?” 

you chuckled, prompting him to continue, “well, did it work?”

“i got my recommendation letter but unfortunately, no hot hero-girls sat on my face.” he explained, he taking a sip of his coffee before eyeing you, his frown slowly curling into a titillating smirk, “you could change that, though.”

your eyes widened, but you were somewhat mentally prepared for him to say that so you were quick to blurt out, “yes please.”

tamaki amajiki

♡ he doesn’t get what you mean at first-

♡ like he thought it was a threat..or maybe you were making fun of him

♡ you, mirio or nejire have to explain to him what it means

♡ then he passes away ⚰

♡ like mans is blushing so hard 

♡ he can’t look you in the eye for 3 months after that 

♡ it’s not that you made him uncomfortable or anything, he just gets like that around the subject of intercourse

♡ if he ever starts talking to you again, you know better than to ever make a dirty joke around him again

♡ but when y’all start dating - maybe a year into the relationship - he’ll randomly turn to you one day and be like ‘remember that joke you made over a year ago about sitting on my face? yeah, that one. do you think you could maybe like..do it? like right now, please? 👉👈’

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

you sat on the bed beside tamaki, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone as he played animal crossing next to you, on his switch. you were looking through pinterest for date ideas as your one year anniversary with tamaki was fast approaching and you wanted it to be special. 

you opened a picture of a couple at the arcade, looking as though they were having a fun time so your natural instinct was to ask tamaki i he was down, “baby, what do you think about the arca--”

“(y/n).” he interjected with a shakily, “um, remember that time we partnered up for a chemistry project?”

you giggled, no clue as to where he was going with this but humming along, none the less, “yep, i do! that was a while ago though, tama.”

amajiki nodded, awkwardly averting his gaze, his cheeks visibly flushing red as he recalled the events that happened - he couldn’t believe he was bringing this up again, after he tried for so long suppress the memory. but currently, his need to hear your sweet moans overwhelmed his shyness, “do you remember the joke you made?”

you hummed in thought for a moment before it hit you. you peered at his with an eyebrow quirked, mentally questioning if you were remembering it correctly. “um, yes.”

“well, can you?”

“can i what?”

tamaki frowned, before leaning in and whispering his scandalous request - he didn’t want to say this aloud but desperate times call for desperate measures. “sit on my face.”