#envy brings the drama

[datlokibumtho]

[guardsbian]

I feel like every six months I'm like goddamn SMR this is a bad look/bad crowd/bad decision and then it's like. Well. there's still nowhere else. so.

[marrycv]

Muse

rockstar!ellie x reader

warnings : SMUT!!, no to consentement (happened with a men ellie saved us), alcohol, ✂️✂️✂️, swearing, age gab? (ellie be like 2-3 years older), thigh riding (r ! receiving), fingering (r ! receiving)

idk if thats all but i worked hard on this one 😜

enjoy!!

—

“Cmonnnnn we’re gonna be late!!”

“not my fault you took 2 hours in the shower?”

you and your bestfriend were getting ready for that little concert that was in your city. it was so rare you had finally something fun to do, and the best part of it, is that your favourite band was gonna be there. you were so excited to go there, but your bestfriend was just making you nervous, in the worst way ever.

you had a denim mini skirt with a lace crop top in black with some leather jacket, classic ‘rockstar girlfriend’ outfit if you’d search it on pinterest. but, it was a rock show anyways, so you were fitting in that vibe.

you had a little smug eyeliner with some star glitter around your eyes. your best friend has some too. exited by the fact that you two were matching like some 13 years old teenagers.

“okay, im ready”

“about time!! now come on, i dont wanna arrive while its crowded, wanna have the best view” she tells you while bringing you outside towards her car

“girl did you know my fav band are gonna be here??”

“ugh omg you said it at least one thousand times…” she sighs

“okay okay, will you be less annoyed when i tell you they look like this :” you said as you showed her the guitarists and the singer. they were 3 and your age. absolutely gorgeous people.

“YOOOOOOOOO!!!” Layla said, looking at the picture of the three bend’s members.

“rightttt?!!!”

“okay but look at the men?”

“his name is Jesse, one of the guitarist. currently dating the other guitarist” you informed her, for only her smile dropping at the deception.

“look, thats the singer” you continue “her name’s Ellie, and shes SO fucking hot, and shes gay”

“lesbian?” she asks you while she starts driving towards the location for tonight.

“yeah, literally everyone who listen to their music is because all the fans envy her. i dont blame them tho”

“what about the other guitarist?” she asks you, now interested in them

“Its Dina, Ellie’s ex”

“WHAAAAAT ??? nowayyyy”

you two laugh at the drama you shared to layla. it was funny gossiping and her finally showing some interest in what you liked.

-

arrived there, it was already crowded. nobody was on stage yet, but it was definitely bigger than you expected.

you friend touched your shoulder, knowing how much noisy places made you so uncomfortable.

“what aboouuuuuut we get VIP tickets for a quieter place mhh?”

“Layla? its too expensive i cant afford that, ill just- support it” you tell her, looking at your phone trying to distract yourself

“too late babe i bought us some” she says, looking at you with the biggest smile. eyes disappearing and teeth showing. She was your sunshine.

“whaaat? you shouldn’t have- im gonna repay you when i can okay?”

“nuh huh, its our night and my gift, okay?”

you nod and smile, worries erased by her gentle smile.

it was true, it was you guy’s night, and no anxiety would take that away.

In the VIP room, there was mostly middled aged men with some really young, but beautiful girls in their company. all already wasted. from here, you could be so close to the stage you thought if the artists would be close enough, you could touch them. you also had access to the backstage, which was an insane opportunity.

some normal people, like your age hanging out with people their age were also in the VIP. it was less awkward with all of those creepy men probably were ‘sugar daddies’

“im gonna grab us a drink ill be back, yeah?” layla whisper-screams in your ears then vanishes to the bar.

you look around you, analyzing the people. then get on your phone, just to seem lees alone.

“Hey you gorgeous lady, would you mind some company?” a raspy voice said

you look towards the voice and see a men, probably 25 years old, but obviously drunk and maybe also high.

“i already have company, but thanks” you said, gently, not wanting anything to happen.

“oh, but i dont see anyone babygirl…” he said as he leaned closer to you while you backed off a little.

his eyes widen, completely surprised by your non interested move.

“im not gonna bite youuu, only if you ask me to” he says and winks at you while touching your arm, going closer and closer to your breast.

“um.. no thanks..” you said, trying to get away, searching around for layla’s figure somewhere around…

“why are you so fucking rude? huh? cant even be happy someone wants to be with you mh? ‘lil slut..” he said as his grip on your arm was tightening, probably gonna leave a mark after.

“please-“ you started but got cut by someone else, behind you two

“she said no man”

the men looks behind him, feeling his grip on your arm going insanely tight. you hiss by the pain.

“she’s with me” he answers to the girl you yet didn’t dare to look at, feeling embarrassed by this whole situation

“are you with this man, miss?” the girl asked you.

her tone completely shifting from raspy, loud and angry to sweet and gentle. making you look up from the ground to see the Ellie Williams defending you. you answer her a small ‘no’. scared if you talked louder the men would take away your arm at this point. or scared you’d cry from anger. the tight feeling you felt in your throat was cutting your voice to get through, if the knot would get destroyed, you’d probably sob right here, but it would only get tighter, feeling like it was taking the oxygen away from your lungs. feeling like it was choking you so it couldn’t pass anymore. would only make your heart beat slower due to the little air you were able to breathe. but you felt like it was beating faster, like you just ran kilometers and stopped suddenly. making your body react in a bad way in the sudden change.

but that was only a feeling.

you just looked, away.

you could hear Ellie yell at the men until his grip on you left to only see his arm swing towards ellie’s face. only that she dodged his punch smoothly. almost satisfying to watch her doing it like she was the finest fighter in the world.

but the slowmo and the muffled voices stopped and when Ellie punched him. Everything was too loud and too clear.

blood getting out of the man’s mouth. attacking Ellie back. everyone screaming and getting away from the fight, creating a non purpose circle.

suddenly it wasn’t a rock show, but a fight show.

Once Ellie completely knocked out the men, him completely passed out on the ground, blood all over his face. she went towards you

“You okay?” she asked, gently as she didnt even just fought with someone like she was gonna kill him.

you simply nodded to her, shocked by this whole situation, never wanting it to end up this way.

“come with me, yeah? ill get you some water and… clean you up” she said looking at your cheek, having some blood on it.

you just followed her into her lodge. it was quiet and cozy.

nobody was in there, but you were kinda nervous about the fact that you were literally with a celebrity.

“sit down” she obeyed.

you sat on the closest chair you saw, following her orders like a dog, still under shock.

ellie took a glass and poured water in it, placed it on the table next to you, then took a small towel and again, put water on it. she came real close to you, her head titled on the side a little bit, her fingers took your chin and made your head move a little bit on the side. she took the towel and took the blood away from your cheek. probably the men’s blood. ellie didn’t have one single scratch. only her knuckles were brushed.

you watched her taking care of you like a little kitten she had found on the road and just, felt bad for it.

her eyes were concentrated on what she was doing, her fingers touching you so gentle, so softly. her bottom lip between her teeth due to the concentration. she might looked so rough earlier, but here? she was the softest person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“here..” she said as she stopped what she was doing. she sat next to you, with concerned eyes. she suddenly cared so much about you.

“thanks” you whispered, looking down to the glass of water in front of you.

“dont thank me, this guy was an asshole. are you hurt?” she asked looking at your arm, knowing he was holding it.

“if i were you id worry more about your hands” you said looking at them, all bloody and swallowed.

“its okay, dont worry about me…” She said getting up to grab some ice for your arm

“no, take it.” you said, putting it on her fingers trying to ease her pain from defending you.

the room went silent, a comfortable silence. the ones where you didnt rush do say anything or where you werent overthinking to find a subject to talk about.

Ellie on the other hand, was going insane. You were so pretty and you had a pin on your purse about their bands which meant that you were a fan. which meant you knew about her and listened to her music. the silence was driving her insane. she’d just wish she was a normal person who weren’t screaming for her name out there. screaming for her and the fact that they all wanted her. like she was theirs. but she didn’t want that. she wanted to be yours, and it wasn’t gonna be easy. she thought you were scared by her, she thought you saw her completely different now, that you’d stop listening about her being so so toxic with girls with the best beat dina and jesse could ever put to make everyone forget about how of an asshole she was.

about how the girl was hers but she wasnt the theirs. about how she just fucked the girl cause she was bored.

but now, you could saw her as a crazy girl that punches someone almost to death. someone dangerous.

you were just too pretty for this man, for this treatment. she would have done this for anyone, but taking care of them after? nahhh she wouldve just walked away.

“whats your name..?” Ellie asked, looking dead up in your eyes like she wasn’t going crazy on overthinking.

“my name’s ______” you tell her.

“im uh, im Ell-“

“Ellie Williams, yeah i know”

“of course you do..” she sighed at herself.

“fuck- i uh my friend… she’s gonna be dead worried!! fuck fuck” you say, completely on panic mode

“hey, hey, hey, its okay, just send her a message to let her know youre all good, im not letting you out there again, something worse could happen to you.” she says, in a stern tone.

“you worried about me Williams?” you ask her, calmed but surprised by her reaction, slightly titling your head a little bit. the small amount of alcohol in your system making you bolder than you ever could.

“believe it or not sweetheart, i care about my fans”

something in what you said activated Ellie’s dangerous side. she was gonna torture you and never let you go.

“dont you have a show you have to do? for the caring of your fans?”

“i believe they can wait a little bit, dont you think?” she smirked at you.

that goddamn smirk she’d have in those pinterest pictures of her if you searched up her name on the search bar. that smirk when she was on live and someone would tell how much they loved her. or when her fans would ask her to sign on their boobs.

that smirk.

“how disappointed i would be if i was one of those, knowing you were just sitting in here with someone you didnt even knew”

“mhhh i wouldnt care less doll”

you blushed at the nickname, you’d cringe if someone else would’ve called you like that, but the way she said made your panties grow a little wet spot faster than you thought your body could.

you shifted a little bit in your chair, uncomfortable by how sweaty you’ve just became.

“dont you think its hot.. in here?” you said, praying for her to not notice it was because of how much your heart was pumping, making you red everywhere.

“follow me” Ellie said, getting up and walking in another room. you were almost too shaking to even walk but you managed to make your way to ellie. she was in a small bedroom. how could you know lodges had bedrooms? no idea.

“we have those bedrooms if someone from the bend is tired or dont feel good, very useful. i think it was Beyoncé that asked that”

“you know beyoncé???” you asked completely amazed

“uhhh, no. im a small artist, not a pop star” she laughed and made herself comfortable on the bed.

you sat next to her, but shy enough to keep your distance away from her a little.

Ellie just grabbed a guitar that was hanging on the wall and started to play a little melody. her fingers stroking the strings so perfectly, making them some beautiful note and then you recognized the song. she was signing one of hers.

its like you were in a dream, the room was so dark but there was lights everywhere, hanging like a teenage room. making able to see everything with the most perfect lighting, you were able to see the intense shadows from ellie’s perfect muscles. aligned how it was made, like god modelled them himself with his own hands. the way she was just there looking at where her fingers were at to know what note to play next. her foot tapping around with the beat. her hair being lighten by the small yellow lights, making her auburn hair look way more softer than usual.

you couldn’t contain yourself at the sight.

“wanna try?” Ellie asked, handing you the guitar with smile on her lips… her perfect lips- ok stop this madness.

“i- i dont know how to play”

“ill teach you- here, put it on your legs…” she then got closer and took your hands to place them to make a chord. “and here is the chord C major” she smiled at you. “easy right?”

“sure, if i dont count the fact that my fingers are about to explose”

she looked at you and laughed, you did the same. you felt now so comfortable with her.

“alright..” she said,

“get in my lap imma teach you some other stuff.”

“huh?”

“the guitar, you trust me?”

she said, clarifying your dirty mind.

“uh yeah, i do” you said then sat in front of her, between her legs. she wrapped her arms around you and guided your fingers, showing you the chords. one by one.

her fingers felt sooo good on your skin, you were just wondering how good they felt inside of you.

you knew that what you were feeling was wrong, that you two just met but you couldn’t help to press your ass to her crutch. Ellie’s words stuttered, and so did yours. every words were slower and her mouvements were more sensual, if you werent delusional.

the tension just kept growing and only one more move and it could be done for the both of you.

she pressed her head in your shoulder. still teaching you. a hand on yours- guiding you and another on your hip… and she just made you get closer to her, as you could even get closer. you were trying to not moan at this point. what she was doing, ‘teaching’ you guitar and making your heart skip a beat, pretending like nothing else was happening, like it was just all in your imagination. but the feeling was so strong, so strong.

you felt her lips stroking against the skin of your neck while she was whispering you the instructions of the next chords.

crazy how an hour ago you were with your bestfriend, being exited about just seeing ellie live, and here you were, she was literally teaching you how to play guitar with hers. this felt all like it was some kind of prank, too good to be true, but you were just there to enjoy yourself at 100%.

Ellie’s hand on your hip was now playing around on your thigh, she’d tell you how good you were doing. she then moved her hand, painfully slow in your inner thigh. your breathing was speeding up like she was already in you…

she has just touch you so little.

you craved her so much.

you let her get higher, she stoked her fingers on your clothed cunt, could feel the wet spot on your panties that was growing since you got into her lodge.

“is this okay?” she asked you. scared she was taking everything too far, but you just pushed her hand closer to where you needed her the most.

Ellie took the guitar away from the both of you and turned you over so she could see your face.

your legs wrapped around her waist and now both of her hands were on your hips.

the atmosphere completely changed. it was romantic and comfortable 2 seconds ago, and now its so much more intense, the room feels hotter and your nervousness is on the top of your head controlling you to stay still.

“ellie…” you whined.

that made ellie so much more bold. her hands moved up from your hips to your cheeks, not forgetting to touch every part of your skin that was on the way. it wasn’t too slow and either too fast, just enough to realize she was getting closer and closer while her eyes switched on your eyes to your lips. you leaned in, like she was a magnet, pulling you towards her. her lips on yours felt the most right thing you’ve ever felt. they were so soft, so warm, so so tender against your lips. the kiss turned into a make out soon enough like it was a relief from all the tension that had built. her tongue dancing against yours, feeling this feeling of euphoria in your whole body, only catching yourself needed more and more.

unconsciously, your hips were rocking against any pressure you could find. ellie stopped her kisses to only replace them on your neck. you tilt your head to give her more access. you had no idea what you were doing, its like your body went into full control and your mind was just beyond the clouds, seeing the stars when her knee pressed against your clothed cunt. a moan and a a relief sigh escaped your lips.

all was happening so fast and ellie was taking your shirt off, as you were doing the same to her, like in those romantic movies when the two characters find eachothers and they get heated in the moment. like there wasn’t time, like you were late to somewhere.

ellie’s fingers found their way, once again on your clit.

“you mind if i take this off?” she asked, with a smirk, but you could see her cheeks blushing, her breath being fast… her hands shaking.

you nodded, way too speechless of the goddess in front of you

“words, i need words baby”

“take it off” you saw, looking at your legs that were still wrapped around ellie’s waist.

ellie layed you down on the bed, now on top of you, looking at you up and down, analyzing your body. she gently touched the hem of your skirt to take it off. you lifted your hips up to help her. her mouvement were painfully slow, as she was trying to make this sooo memorable.

your panties along with your hips were now on the floor of the room. laying with only your bra left.

ellie’s lips returned to yours, while you could feel her hands getting closer to where you needed her the most.

“ellie..?”

“yes, yes? what’s wrong?” she asked, genuine

“i uh.. can i ride on you?” you asked her, closing your eyes to try and hide yourself from the immense embarrassment you felt, but before you knew it, ellie stood up, you looked at her, clearly confused about what she was doing

to your surprise, she only stripped herself, finding her now completely naked. you could see her abs.. her biceps.. the ‘v’ kind of shape she had on her lower stomach.. her small, yet perfect boobs, only finding your mouth watering at the sight- and not only your mouth but your pussy was drenched too.

“are you gonna stop staring at me?” ellie asked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you- again

maybe she felt magnified to you too? just like you felt so attracted to her

you were winning in anticipation and excitement

naturally, her leg intertwined with one of yours so both of your clits were pressing against eachothers.

feeling her like that against you was heaven. grinding yourself against her was beyond beautiful. the scene was so pornographic that i’d create a new sin in the bible.

“els! im so.. close… fuck!!”

“me too, fuck.. together yeah?”

and just like that she gave a couple more trusts against you and you did the same, as your mouvements were synchronized, as if it was destiny to find her and make love with the love of your life.

you saw and felt fireworks, a big release escaped as you were almost screaming by pleasure. and ellie was just, amazed by your fucked expression she could cum again over and over by just being on top of you, looking at you this beautiful. she couldnt stop.

“els! please!” you said as you felt overstimulated by your previous orgasm.

“please give me another one, please.” ellie was begging at this point. as she needed it more than you, as she felt it in her.

she could go on and on, and you would let her abuse your cunt for the rest of your life if it felt like that.

[reallyromealone]

Can i request Kaname Kuran x Pureblood Male Reader and reader is kaname's betrothed from birth. If you can you can put in more details but can it be an omegaverse please.

Title: mate oh my mate

Fandom: vampire knight

Characters: vampire knight cast

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Kaname x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, Omegaverse, Omega male reader, vampire reader, feeding, yuuki has rage

Notes:

Summary: reader is requested to attend cross academy by his mate and Yuuki is less than impressed

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Fiance?" Yuuki was confused, looking around the room while Kaname nodded, holding a photo of the Omega in question, a pure blood dressed in soft cremes "he will be joining the night class!" Cross cheered, trying to see the bright side of the newest student. "He knows the rules, I assume?" Zero grunted at the pure blood who gave him a barely veiled look of annoyance.

"He is fully aware"

Yuuki tried to hide the envy she felt towards the Omega... This was kanames mate...

A pure blood male Omega, probably trained to be the perfect mate for him.

"But there's no Omega dorms in the night class...?" Yuukis question was a thinly veiled argument and Kaname looked at her fondly, as if she were a little sister "we have already made the proper arrangements, his room will be across from mine" Kaname seemed quite pleased with his words, always a slightly smug with each sentence.

Yuuki just sat there before letting out a sigh and standing, storming out of the room.

Confusion swept the vampires face, cross and zero knowing exactly why she left "she had to learn eventually..." Zero mumbled and cross agreed.

Kaname decided he didn't want to pursue this drama, human drama wasn't really something he cared for before excusing himself, after all...

His mate should be here any moment.

-

(Name) Sat in the limo calmly, dressed in his new uniform while staring at the scenery curiously while the sun was setting. He had never been to a school, having been homeschooled prior but his alpha wanted him close, not liking the distance and limited time together. A ring sat on his finger, a beautiful ruby, surrounded by garnets... It reminded (name) of kanames eyes...

His alpha had such lovely eyes...

"We can see each other each day my kana..." (Name) Whispered, pleased with the concept of seeing his beloved once again after almost a month a part, the only commutation being letters; thank god Kaname left him scented objects. The school was truly something, the grand school peaking from the horizon and the trees barely hiding it "so this is where kana stays..." (Name) Was curious about the school, his staff told him roughly how it works...

-

Kaname could sense his mate before he even got on the grounds, the exhaustion of his beloved seeping into his skin, the distance had been taking a toll on him after all. (Name) Was asleep when the limo pulled up and Kaname wasted no time scooping him into his arms and wandering to the night class dorms, looking at the light of his life and hopefully he will be less exhausted after this nap...

(Name) Was usually quite more lively, the sun to his moon but it seems that the seperation had made him so tired... Poor thing. He barely acknowledged the night class while bringing (name) to his room, the Omega immediately snuggling into the blankets and taking in Kanames scent. Looking at his mate, Kaname felt relief and crouched before him "soon we will be out of here... I just have loose ends to tie up and you will be marked and we will go home..." He promised before getting up and walking towards the door, glancing back at the sleeping vampire.

It was hours before (name) woke, eyes snapping open and looking around the unfamiliar room and sniffing... "Starving..." He whispered, wanting nothing more than his alpha to be here so he could pin him down and enjoy what he's been deprived of. Stepping out of the room he looked around with a slouch, Senri the first to notice him and alert the rest of the night class and subsequently Kaname.

"Where is he?" (Name) Said slowly, hungry and frankly not in the mood for any games of any sort "he's in the gardens... He will return soon" Senri spoke softly and (name) just stared before wandering off.

"I just don't understand! Why can't it be me?!" A voice called out and Kanames voice could be heard almost exasperated "Yuuki, I love you but not in the way you want... You're my sister and that will never change but (name) is my mate" Kaname explained to his sister who sobbed angrily "but I love you!"

"But I don't love you"

And at that moment, Yuuki Kuran broke.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she ran off and Kaname kept composure before turning towards his mate "hello my love..." Exhaustion evident in his voice and (name) wandered towards him "she had to learn eventually..." (Name) Reached towards him and gently traced his face and Kaname rested his head in his mates hand.

The two walked back into the dorms and up to kanames room, the Alpha offering his neck to his beloved who Kissed his pulse lovingly before biting in, starved of his mates blood. Kaname gently rubbed his hips and ass, letting his beloved take what he needed before pulling back and snuggling into him "are you hungry alpha?" (Name)s voice content and dream-like and Kaname simply kissed the blood from his lips "I'll feed later, for now we have much to discuss, no?"

(Name) Was graceful and elegant, arm linked with Kanames while students looked on in awe at the Omega with an ornate engagement collar, (name) nodding kindly to the fellow omegas in the school in an act of omega-omega kindness, no matter the hierarchy it was seen as an equal understanding to one another and safety in numbers.

Even if he was a vampire, it was nice to have fellow omegas.

"So why are you attending this school... You received your education" (name) asked while they walked to the headmasters office and Kaname hummed "to keep an eye on my sister, I worry for her and she's attached to a specific human... After the Rido situation... I don't want to risk it"

"Reasonable"

(Name) Was curious while sitting beside Kaname, the headmaster and an obvious hunter "thank you for coming here (name)" cross smiled and (name) nodded politely, looking towards Kaname who nodded "vampiric tradition requires the Omega to have approval before talking to an unknown alpha, as I am required to gain approval before talking to unknown omegas"

"I see, well (name) if there's anything you need here to make your transition smoother please don't hesitate to ask" cross said kindly and yagari glared at the Omega "and one slip up and it's curtains, do you understand me?" His voice stern and (name) nodded calmly "if I find out you fed on any student you will be executed"

"I can only feed from my alpha or those pills you gave me... " (Name) Spoke softly and cross looked confused "vampiric mates can only feed off each other, they don't have claim marks but the rules would still apply for them" yagari explained, already tired of this conversation and (name) was pleased the hunter understood.

"Well regardless, we hope you feel safe and welcome"

"Thank you, sir Cross..." (Name) Spoke kindly before leaving with his mate.

"Now let's hope yuuki doesn't cause problems" cross mumbled, leaning back into his chair.

[beiasluv]

forbidden fruit | Charles Leclerc

a/n: new to the f1 communityy 😬 apologies for any term or idea i got wrong. female!reader. no proofread! enjoyy 🤍

summary: the princess of mercedes and the prince of ferrari, what could possibly go wrong?

“y/n! y/n! she’s in her last turn! leclerc’s trailing behind! can he do an over take?”

splashing champagnes and listening to the dutch national anthem were never your favorite of winning a podium, but who cares?

you were on P3 and charles leclerc was not.

perhaps retelling the story of your rivalry with the monégasque driver would take a whole frustrating, aggravating, and lengthy year for us to get through; and perhaps it was for the best to leave it where it is, never to be touched, but to reminisce with a needle of cringeness poking through your heart.

although an honorable mention to verstappen, for taking the lead role of leclerc’s personal favorite rival.

it was all an inchident, of course.

smirking back to the driver in a flashing, scuderia ferrari, red fire suit, you could only feel your ego bubbling to the top of your throat. charles leclerc was staring. and staring hard. what a shame you couldn’t even take out your phone and take a snippet of his raging glance. what a fun sight for the whole news headlines to see.

‘charles leclerc, envy and jealousy…’

of course, he couldn’t lash it out. how could he? would the handsome, young, and talented ferrari driver want to ruin his reputation in the media? obviously, not.

of course, you knew it all too well. every day you wake up with the tip of a knife, aiming at your throat, ready to nick you anytime you take a wrong step on the luxurious path of an f1 driver. being the only female driver on the grid makes your life a thousand times more challenging.

but who were you to be a nitpick?

the media loves drama. we all do. perhaps it was a little bit more entertaining to see what you are wearing when the races had gone wrong. what hairstyle were you wearing for the big race? or, maybe, just which driver you were dating on the grid this season?

never once you could escape the dating questions or all the bullshit misogynistic attitudes from the journalists, press, media, and, well, …you name it.

perhaps you have to give it to leclerc for never going easy on you just because you are of a different gender.

“congratulations on P3, y/n,” max turned towards you and gave you a pat on the shoulder; simultaneously, bringing you back to reality.

“t- thanks.”

—

“you win this one, l/n.”

he took off his helmet, and clutched it loosely to his side. the cheeky smirk plastered on his face. the eyes searched for the depth of yours.

only you knew how much pain it was for him to force his lips to create such a soft and fake smile for the thousand camera lenses, waiting to catch the two rivals lacking. bumping into leclerc after the race, fresh and full of adrenaline, alone in the hallway of the track was never an enjoyable experience to endure.

“good race, leclerc,” you muttered out as many PR and drivers walked past you two.

“same to you.”

what a shame your PR manager ushered you out for the media room before you two could give a shot of throwing hands - elegantly, of course.

—

“good work on the qualifying round, l/n. return to the garage. over.”

“copy that,” you tapped your headset, notifying the engineer of the prestigious mercedes team.

driving for mercedes in f1 could count as your biggest dream since the karting days. and the race won against ferrari was a - personal - success.

slowing your baby down, and pressing the brake mechanism of the car, you came to a halt as the friction overpowered the tires. one or two seconds later, you could hear the mercedes team rushing and scurrying over to your parked position to collect you back to the mothership.

“take her back, guys!”

the screaming of your fans nearby erupted as you ascended out from the cramped space of your f1 seat. taking your helmet off, and waving to them; you gracefully jumped down from the car and headed towards the mercedes headquarters.

a long walk, but who are you to make a fuss?

an f1 driver should have no problem walking a couple of miles. oh but how annoyingly a group of fans quickly crowded over you and blocked your ways…red flags, horses, and charles leclerc faces. clearly, you knew whose fans they were.

fussing, grabbing, and pulling, you were harassed, unfortunately. autographs, hats, pictures, postcards, and questionable stuff were pushed into your face.

“y/n! please! sign my shirt!” “get the hell away from charles!”

“charles deserved p3 today!” “l/n!! l/n! say hi to my dad! he loves you!”

trying to fulfill all of their requirements, you realized you had found yourself in the sea of scuderia ferrari fans. it is an unspoken fact that you were the rival of charles leclerc; you could say some fans were more enthralled by that fact than others.

“y/n! what do you think about charles? are you guys dating?”

sometimes you hate technology. the cameras pointing at you reminded me of the knife you carry mentally with you every day. it could gain you thousands of thousands of likes in a few tiktoks or perhaps get ready to say goodbye to your f1 position.

“…we’re not talking. in any complicate way,” smiling through the pain you signed the cap that was shoved into your face. gosh, mercedes. where was your security?

your patience could only last so much until one fan decided it was worth it to grab your hand and pull you down for an instagram-worthy photo. and he possibly thought the best way to execute it was to, firstly, seize your waist. how thoughtful of him.

“fuc- please don’t-”

“y/n! i love you!”

man-child was not having it. sweaty and clammy hands could send chills down your spine if you didn’t know.

“please-”

smile through the pain. smile through the pain. it was all part of the job, at the end of the day. the fans still won and you were just a doll for f1. breathe in, breathe out.

he pulled his iphone 7 out of his pocket, painfully slow; slower than the ferrari’s pitstops. his side was squished to yours. the cologne, the smell, the sensory, everything-

“hey, hands off.”

you could say it was the first time you were glad to see charles leclerc from your entire life; wearing his race suit sluttily around his waist. leclerc - being leclerc - stunned his fans, leaving a big hole in the crowd around you.

he was reaching out for your waist; surprisingly, in a way you were pleased, and pulled you out of the red crowd. and just like magic, the security came rushing in and ushered the mob of fans away from the scene.

wearing that stunned face of yours, you regained consciousness and your rival emotions. clearing your already cleared throat, charles took it as a signal to let go of your waist. how suddenly you realized it was all happening over the armor of your fire suit.

thank god.

“..thanks”

“no need to thank me,” the competitive tone made its way through his annoying lips again. scoffing, he looked at you with his hand clutching his helmet by his side, “i don’t understand why they need to adore you this much.”

how rude.

“for the record, they are your fans, leclerc,” you scoffed offendedly, and your hand found its natural place on your chest; clutching for dramatic effect.

“what did i do to deserve such loyal fans, l/n…” not even looking at you he smirked under his nose. “they shouldn’t be acting this way, no?”

he looked over at you, seeing you in your distressed state and a chuckle left his lips. the cameras settled on the stands far away in the distance and stared at you two, they were definitely on.

shit.

this is going to end up in the headlines.

—

“check out your new title…” your manager cleared his throat as you nervously waited.

“you can’t just leave me hanging here!”

placing your phone in your lap your hands returned to the comfort of the steering wheel. twisting and turning, you maneuvered your mercedes inside the driver's garage.

“calm the fuck down! i’m pulling out the source for accuracy,” you swore you could see your manager rolling his eyes. “wait for it…‘charles to the rescue. mercedes and ferrari, love or rivalry?’”

“shut up.”

“i can send you the links.”

“please don’t,” you sighed as you looked over your shoulder to slide into the parking lot like a distinguished f1 driver. “…the devil works hard, but the media works harder, or what?”

“we could use a little PR for mercedes, y’know?” the crackled chuckle left your phone.

please.

“the signal is shit in the parking lot, i’ll see you at the paddock. bye.”

“alright, be quick.”

gathering your bag and phone, you checked your face one last time in the rearview mirror and opened the car door. unfortunately, the infamous ferrari entered the parking lot with its signature roars, as you stepped out of your car.

the devil had worked hard once again. walking to your trunk, you kicked it open and snatched some of your essential stuff for the race. and who would’ve thought charles leclerc could park his car in under 20 seconds?

not to mention, it wasn’t straight. (oops)

getting out of his car, he checked his hair and fixed his shirt. obviously, aware of the paparazzi lurking around the track’s garage for the big day, and hoping to sell a couple of pics for something a little more than a couple of bucks. perhaps an even better price for them if they caught you and your rival having a ‘friendly’ chat.

don’t get close to him. don’t get close to him.

“what a coincidence,” leclerc approached your mercedes as he locked his ferrari with its infamous beeping.

“how so?”

smirking back at him, you slammed your trunk closed and shut off; locking your car in the same manner. catching the glimpse of his eyes you made it your personal goal to escape him as fast as you could possibly can.

flicking your head away and taking off, the path inside the track was as empty as you hoped it could be.

“slow down, i just wanna talk.”

“leclerc.”

“you walk too fast,” you swore if you looked back and he is grinning. “you trying to escape from me?”

fuck.

“got a problem with that, leclerc?”

his dark green eyes met yours after you decided the risk was below the ‘manageable’ level to turn around.

“no,” he grinned at you. how you wish you could smack it off of his face. “i jus’ want some company while walking to the track, no?”

company, my ass.

clearing his throat, he looked at you, “you’re a pretty good rival though.”

gaining a nod and a smirk from you leclerc was cut short of his run time as his PR manager came to collect him to the ferrari garage. how sad. his messy hair, the confidential wave, and two eyes met yours one last time before you decided to head to the mothership of your mercedes headquarters.

big trouble, y/n. big trouble.

—

“y/n, we neeed to talk.”

the paddock was usually quiet upstairs, all the mechanics and engineers spent their time in garage down below. only toto, george, lewis, your manager, and their managers, and - obviously - you would spend time up here. also. is every private manager in the world annoyingly scary and friendly at the same time or what?

sitting down next to you on the black sofa of the mercedes headquarters by the pitch, you were face-to-face with your lovely manager.

clearing your nonexistent anxiety, “…yes?”

“look…the media is starting to notice your relationship with charles…”

“and..?”

“and,” he crossed his arms, “we need to work on keeping this situation private…it could affect your reputation. maybe after the soft launch phase is over, you can publicize it…if you want to, obviously.”

the fuck?

“…what are your thoughts?”

he looked into your face, not a single thought behind it. somehow the racetrack outside the notoriously big, shiny window of the mercedes paddock suddenly gained your attention, and he restored to snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“what-? oh right- for fuck’s sake! we’re not in a relationship!”

“and what about those paparazzis’ pictures? I thought we agreed on sharing every ‘public’ detail about your life with me?”

“first of all, privacy. second of all. you believe that?! anthony! you’re my manager, i would’ve told you if i was dating a ferrari driver!” grabbing a quick breath,

“do you think i want to date the reddest of all flags on the grid?!”

“yeah? but that’s not the impression the media got,” he said. “even max! max verstappen thought-”

“who cares what max thinks!” you thrown your head back on the sofa.

“PR could be good, but we don’t know if it’s going to blacklash-”

george russell. he walked up to you two arguing on the black sofa and smirked at you; clearly, he heard your talks about ‘the reddest of all flags on the grid.’

“shut your mouth, russell,” sighing sarcastically as you could and you turned to your manager, who was having the time of his life.

“I’m not saying anything,” he raised his hands defensively, grinning the shit out of the corners of his mouth.

“I’m a driver, not a play doll you could match-make for the team’s reputation. hell. doesn’t charles have a girlfriend?”

anthony pulled out his phone and scrolled through ‘something,’ “yes…charles…has a girlfriend, PR relationship?”

“what do you mean?”

putting his phone away, “doesn’t matter. but what the media care about is to get a story out of nothing.”

“…and?”

“you have a reputation of being a private figure, and you're an expert in keeping it that way. we just need to do that until the end of the season.”

george chuckled sarcastically, "she seems angry at us, guys.”

“i am. and i’m not dating anyone for mercedes. done,” you stood up from the sofa and beelined towards the door. “also. i’m telling toto.”

and someone finally heard you this time. the whole room’s atmosphere seemed to tense up as someone entered the door.

toto wolff.

“is there a problem, y/n?” toto asked as george smirked at the unfolding situation.

you swung your head towards the origin of the sound and cleared your throat, “your employee, mr. wolff, is trying to matchmake me with a ferrari driver.”

toto chuckled.

toto chuckled?

“so there is something between you and charles?” he raised his eyebrow at you. expectedly, george was holding his laughter in for his dear life.

“why does everyone thinks that we’re dating?! even toto?!”

“so you’re not dating leclerc?”

“no!”

congratulations. you have successfully crashed onto the sofa once again, groaning your pain out.

“she’s lying,” george chimed in.

“I. am. not.”

how surprising that george’s back kissed the sofa as you tackled him jokingly down. a moment of silence for toto to watch many of his best drivers tackle each other like it’s a normal day in kindergarten.

“are you sure you are not dating, leclerc?”

last straw. you clutched your bag and left george dysfunctional on the couch. walking past the room, you glanced back one last time and said with the best sarcasm, “i’m not. and I’m not dating him for mercedes. done! I’m a driver, not a doll!”

slamming the door shut, you headed for your private driver’s room.

"she's angry at us…” george chuckles nervously; obviously, with a hint of joy.

“no shit sherlock”

—

edit: part 2

part 2?? reblog, like, whatever the heck you want would be appreciated 😘

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, lots of luv 🤍

[vigilskeep]

for some reason the only illario crime that made me really gasp was when he was at his opera house drama fest giving his speech, and he started on about bringing the venatori in and the camera cut to viago and teia. and i was like, oh god, teia, the most prominent elf in the entire organisation. and he’s bringing the venatori in. and she’s the one who everybody loves and she never did him any wrong and even tried to look out for him... i’m just saying i ultimately have to support fictional characters betraying their family that’s natural behaviour but betraying teia is out of line

i have a lot of thoughts about illario and teia because i think it’s super interesting that they have similar skillsets and yet teia has so much caterina approval where illario has none, and what that means. (just thought about caterina liking teia, but also without even thinking about it believing that her own grandson—who is human, which is not irrelevant to this—should be Above That. felt ill.) teia genuinely loves caterina and sees her as a surrogate maternal figure, which has always been such a fundamentally WILD thing to do when caterina fucked up all the children and grandchildren she actually had. does that bizarrely make caterina capable of having a healthier relationship with teia or is it worse. does illario think that’s better or worse than what he has. is there envy or pity there or nothing at all. is it more humiliating to be a beaten dog born in the house or a stray dog taken into the warmth who will always still be the stray dog

[deliciousangelfestival]

Unexpected Trip

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.

Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.

You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.

Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.

"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."

As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."

You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."

As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.

"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.

Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.

Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.

The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.

"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.

"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.

Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.

Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.

Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.

You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.

5 Years Ago

You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.

Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.

It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.

Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"

"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.

"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.

"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.

As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."

You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.

With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."

He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.

"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.

You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.

After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.

"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.

You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.

Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."

"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.

Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.

Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"

Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"

Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.

Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.

There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.

Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.

The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.

"KYAAA!"

Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.

"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.

Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.

You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.

"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.

With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.

Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.

The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.

You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.

"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.

Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."

"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.

Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.

You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."

Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated

Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"

"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."

As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.

"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.

He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."

And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.

🚗

After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.

Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.

As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."

The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."

You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."

The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."

You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."

The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."

With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.

"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.

Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.

As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.

🚗

One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.

Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.

"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."

Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."

"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."

Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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[starseungs]

from the past, beyond the present, and into tomorrow. ksm. ( teaser )

kim seungmin x fem!reader — following the last wishes of her beloved grandmother, y/n finds herself moving back to her family's hometown. deep into the countryside and miles away from the bustling noise of the city, the change was supposed to be a new experience. that was, if only the mayor's son didn't bring along years of unknown familiarity with him.

GENRE/S — drama, slight angst, slight fluff, just sentimental, soulmates au, multiple lifetimes, high school au, a slowburn • teaser: 2.1k words (10k+ overall fic)

WARNING/S — y/n gets referred to with she/her pronouns, setting is heavily influenced by japanese environments (but still made vague enough for other preferences), main characters are aged eighteen, possibly more to be added upon release.

NOW PLAYING — tracing that dream by yoasobi

( ✒️ ) this is the product of seungmin covering one of my favorite songs ... now im gonna make him a shoujo anime love interest !!! and yes the teaser is long asf. i, too, am concerned about the total word count of this fic. (road to 20k wc i guess)

( 📌 ) STATUS: UNRELEASED • TAGLIST IS OPEN !

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

You had dreamt of a specific scene once when you were thirteen.

At least, you were the one who considered it a dream. It was something you had tried to bury in the depths of your mind—locked away in a tiny chest placed in the furthest corner and behind closed doors. If it were someone else, you knew that they would’ve already exhausted all means to figure out what the dream meant.

After all, it certainly wasn’t every day that you got to dream of something that felt so vividly real to the point you could’ve sworn it was a memory.

But it wasn’t. It could never be.

Why?

Because in no reality could an authentic memory be of a time that shouldn’t even exist yet.

“I won’t ask you to congratulate me,” the vessel you were seeing the world through spoke. In the scenario being played out, you could feel yourself smile warmly. You could only guess why the positive action was contrasted by such a somber tone of speaking. “Never once have your eyes lied in front of mine.”

The sound of joyous laughter that surrounded the area almost felt too jarring to compare to the mood present between what was supposed to be you and another male. He sat completely still, unmoving amidst the dim evening despite your earlier comment. Flickers of embers from the sizable-looking campfire reflected in his eyes, telling of the fact that the absence of a response was not because of a lack of focus but rather his inner thoughts getting swallowed up by the burning flames.

His looks would range him older than eleven. Yet, you didn’t seem phased by it—not even in the slightest. Perhaps this was something you should have expected. The voice that came out of you was notably not one of an eleven-year-old either. So you gave up on the matter.

Instead, you waited for an answer to what you had previously uttered. Even if it was just a simple hum that came out of his mouth.

He let the fire crackle a bit more.

“Does it make me a bad man to say that I envy you?”

The breath that you didn’t even know you were holding escaped your lips the second he spoke. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean,” was your reply.

The silence came back for a second. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem as heavy as the one you two had just broken. You watched his movements, almost mesmerized, as he took his eyes off the fire. The concentration only faltered when his sight came up to meet yours. “You’re off to go do greater things over in the big city,” he starts. “And yet, here I am, getting left behind in this quiet town. A place not a single soul even yearns for—where everyone starts off but never stays.”

It was odd. The way you felt your heart race at his words.

To be completely honest, you didn’t think much of what he had just said. You didn’t even know exactly what it meant—both for you and for him. Yet, the sudden spike of adrenaline in your veins told a different story. It was making you feel breathless while also making you tear up.

“You could always come with me.”

He shook his head. Did he just reject your offer? “It’s no use. My life’s responsibilities will still lie here. What would I even gain from leaving this place?”

Another beat. You could care less if it was of silence or your heart. In what seemed like a blink, the environment felt too overwhelming for you to function in. It was almost like you were sinking. Down deep to who knows where.

Though muddled, you tried your best to bring yourself back to the forefront by listening to the variety of other sounds outside the small bubble you two had created. Children running around screaming with laughter, adult men howling with amusement at whatever conversation they were in, and a female voice yelling to prepare the fireworks.

How fun. A celebration right next to a brewing storm. All under the same night sky.

“But,” you forced the words out. “You also have your own dreams.” His eyes softened at the mention. The way your heart shattered echoed a little too strongly throughout your body.

“That’s why I’m letting you go like this.” The young male smiled, making sure to let you know it was only directed at you. “So that at least one of us gets to achieve them.”

Your lips quivered. “Why do you speak as if I’m never going to come back for you?”

Silence again. You were beginning to develop an intense dislike for them.

“That’s just the way the world works,” was the response that came to soothe your growing anxiety. “It doesn’t revolve around a certain person. And it certainly doesn’t revolve around me. Go and live the life you want without any regrets. When the time comes that you’ve done everything you’ve wished for in life, come and find me again.”

A shake of a head.

“I could always just stay.”

A weak chuckle.

“Then, neither of us will be able to grow.”

A clench of a hand.

“What if I take too long?”

A minute passes by. You’ve come to really hate these momentary pauses.

He stands up. “There will be no such thing,” the young male assures you, moving closer only to stop at arm's length. You fought the urge to reach out and hold him. “Even if it takes multiple lifetimes, I’ll always be here. Waiting for you.”

“What if you forget about me?”

The world fell into one last hush. Your well-held tears finally started falling one-by-one, just like the first drops of rain. He sighs at your state, taking another step forward.

“I really don’t think I ever will.” He cups your face gently to look at him. “That’s why to you, who my heart will always choose in every lifetime—”

A loud bang. You watched as the fireworks bloomed into the sky through his glistening eyes.

“—Please live well until you come back to me.”

Hushed whispers filled the room.

You should’ve expected this. No matter the place, all high schoolers were bound to be the same, either one way or another. If you really had to make sense of it, your best guess would be that it was simply human for them to act this way. Universal traits are what makes a species. Perhaps you would’ve found it much more uncomfortable if the students in front of you didn’t find your situation interesting. After all, the genuine interest seeping out of those youthful eyes did make the atmosphere a lot lighter. At the end of the day, you could never actually fault them.

Still, enduring the poor attempts of adolescents trying to keep their curiosity hidden for more than a tick of a clock was harder than you thought. A part of you so badly wanted to believe that it was because this whole ordeal was tiring—bothersome, even. Unluckily for you, your brain knew a little bit too much for its own good.

Next to the classroom’s front door, one of your female classmates drops a pen accidentally. You watched it roll down two seats away, only to stop underneath the chair of a guy who was animatedly discussing something with another that was to his right. The latter enthusiastically reciprocated the conversation; his seemingly dominant hand spinning a blue-colored pen while doing so. You balled your hands, only to release them not even a beat later. They felt slightly damp.

You were nervous.

“Settle down now, class!” The homeroom teacher, Mrs. Cheon, ordered. Like well disciplined soldiers, the students quickly ceased all sound. Their undivided attention made you swallow heavily. “Starting today, we have a new addition to our class. Let’s all listen to her introduction.”

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at her order—only barely holding back from painting shock all over your face. This was not the plan you were made aware of. You wanted to protest. Throw a tantrum like a little child at the way she had just thrown you into a den filled with lions with no choice but to fend for yourself. Back in the faculty room, she had clearly stated that she was the one who was going to introduce you to the class. What was the point of asking you all the standard information about yourself if she wasn’t even going to use it?

Mrs. Cheon merely stood there, anticipating for you to start. Her neatly managed fingers were laced together behind her back, presenting the dark purple dress she was wearing in all of its glory. You kind of wished it was brighter; just so you could complain about her blinding you without seeming rude. Now you realized that you shouldn’t have trusted her words in their literal sense. It was foolish of you to believe that all you had to do for your formal introduction was to stand there until you were settled.

You took a discrete, heavy breath.

“Hello to you all. My name is Y/N,” you start off as cool as you could manage. “Eighteen. I just moved here from the city, so I am still in the process of getting familiar with the environment. Please take care of me.”

If you could give yourself a pat on the back at that moment, you would’ve. Unfortunately, you had yet to get a grasp on how things worked around here, so it was probably better not to do anything that would make you stand out more than you already did just by being new. And who even transfers schools two months into their last year of high school? Plus, with their stares so intently directed at you like they were studying a fascinating specimen, you couldn’t lift a single finger anyway. So you settled for pursing your lips instead.

A male student with puffed cheeks from the second row raised a brow at you. You bit your cheek lightly. Great.

“It seems like that’s all for Y/N’s introduction,” Mrs. Cheon says, clearing her throat. You internally glowered at the way she awkwardly moved on. You could only wonder how painful your introduction now seemed. “You’ll be seated next to Seungmin. Raise your hand, please.” She ordered.

To which not one soul followed.

If you had not enforced every single ounce of control you had, you were sure your jaw would’ve dropped to the ground. This was already proving to be one of the worst moments of your life, and yet life seemed way too eager to make it even more unforgettable. Your eyes snapped to the figure sitting on the slot in the back row, right next to the windows.

Granted, you already knew who this ‘Seungmin’ was. It was quite obvious, really. The only other desk free to use in this entire room was the one next to the guy you were currently burning a hole through with your gaze. He was staring out the window without a worry in the world, seemingly lost in his thoughts. His posture screamed relaxation, and anything more than that meant infusing into the wooden chair he was leaning back on.

While normally you would have found this guy relatable, right now you could just wish that he finally acknowledged Mrs. Cheon’s call so that you could now erase your presence for the rest of the day.

Luckily for you, it seemed like your homeroom teacher was also getting impatient.

“Kim Seungmin!”

The male with the same name as the one just yelled out leisurely broke off his staring contest with that one cloud in the sky to give you two at the front a glance. It was then that you finally got a good look at him.

His black hair was cut short, brushed down into bangs, but not enough to cover a notable undercut. Despite his clean appearance doubled by the meticulously ironed uniform that hung on his figure, his face was grim in a way that showed great dislike for the situation. You wanted to scoff at the frown decorating his lips, sending everyone the clear message that he had just been bothered. Fighting off the urge to twitch an eye at the slight scrunch of his nose was proving to be the most difficult challenge of the day.

“Oh?” He reacted monotonously before raising his hand as requested. That obviously meant he did hear Mrs. Cheon. “Yeah, here.”

You grit your teeth, already feeling an overwhelming sense of annoyance radiating out of you. From what it looked like, he felt it too—shifting his gaze from Mrs. Cheon to meet yours. Yet, your eyebrows furrowed as the feeling dissipated the moment your eyes locked.

Huh.

How come he seems awfully familiar?

FIC TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @soobnny

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

thought you might enjoy this one, raven ;) how about headcanons of rollo and malleus who are crushing hard on g/n reader but the twist is that reader is dating/in love with their mortal enemy...THE OTHER GUY. what will rollo and malleus do? try to steal reader away to spite the other person? I eagerly await to see what you'll do with this prompt!!!

*rubs hand together* They're both emotionally repressed and silly little guys that I will happily torment 😈 This prompt reminds me of fjsbsjxvksnwkw this video…

I can now use Dorm Uniform artworks for the banners, yay--

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Emo Boi era? Emo Boi era.

Malleus is used to being alone. He’s used to it and yet… it has never felt this frigid, with needles of ice that prod his skin and scales with each step, the loneliness seeping into his blood and bones. The chill always comes when he sees you with Flamme—smiling, laughing—or when you turn down his invites to walk alongside him. “I already have plans with my boyfriend,” you’d say, and he’s encased in ice. “Sorry, maybe another time?”

It’s not just him that experiences the consequences of his gloomy mood. His classmates and the immediate surrounding environment also suffer. When Malleus passes, he brings with him angry thunder or hail the size of golf balls, floods the hall or brings a blanket of snow up to your knees. Everyone walks on eggshells, scared to do or say something to set him off.

He retreats from those rejected outings and spends the evenings alone, walking around campus to hit up all the gargoyle spots. Malleus laments to the gargoyles (and to Gao-Gao Dragon-kun), sharing about his romantic troubles. On the days when his mood is so sour he cannot even take his usual strolls, Malleus holes up in his bedroom with a blanket and a tub of ice-cream. He'll pout and indulge in the sweet frozen treat to chase off his sorrows, all while watching historical dramas and soap operas to temper his envy.

He savors the little victories, times when he’s able to have you for a moment of solidarity. Nothing is quite as enchanting to him as seeing how the sun blooms in your eyes when he performs what he considers such minor tricks—sparks of light that dance in the palm of his hand, a flower pulled from midair. (He considers flexing his magic small acts of revenge against Flamme too.)

... How is it, then, that you smile brighter still with him, when he abstains from the miracle of magic? The frustration is enough to make the light flicker out, and the flower crumble into ash. It’s not fair, Malleus thinks, that Flamme should come in to steal away the one I’ve had my eye on long before he has. Dragons can be territorial and possessive creatures—and you’re the treasure he’s guarded for so long.

His retainers awkwardly try to comfort him. Silver isn’t quite sure what to say, Lilia gently reminds Malleus that there will be others that take his breath away (“If you love them, then you must also learn to let them go,” Lilia had sagely advised)… and Sebek is Malleus’s personal hype man. He goes on for hours and hours about how “the human has poor taste in men!!”, shit talking Rollo, and extolling his young master. At one point, Sebek even advises that Malleus reveal Rollo’s misdeeds to you just to prove “the difference in nobility” between the two.

Malleus would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered any and all options. All it would take is the wave of his hand to decimate any rival, mage or no. Perhaps he could spin a curse to drive the others off, or simply whisk you away under the cover of night. But the longer he lingers on the ideas, the more they make his heart ache. No, he cannot bring any of them into fruition—he can't bear to see your happy expression shift to that of fright, the same way everyone else seems to regard him. Caving to his basest desires—it would be proof of the monster they see in him. It would make Rollo right.

It would be discourteous of me to intervene in another's personal affairs. It's his final decision, the mantra he recites to himself over and over and over again. Let go, and move on. Let go, and move on. Yet in his heart of hearts, he has not accepted it, cannot cut away the last of the threads that bind his feelings to you. Malleus is plagued by fitful nights, dreams that manifest as if just to mock him. In them, you're always shrouded in white, at some faraway altar. No matter how fast he runs or flies, he can never reach you. Other times, he's been forgotten entirely, not invited to the ceremony at all. Cast off into the darkness or a bog or an enchanted wood to stew and brood all alone.

He'll wake in a cold sweat and with an agonizing roar that shakes the entire castle. When Lilia and the others rush to his chambers to check on him, they find it in disarray. Items are thrown everywhere, the comforter cast off and the bed a mess from tossing and turning, ugly claw marks running across his curtains... The chandelier has fallen, the green-tipped candles of it catching the fabric on fire—and there he is, kneeling amid the flames, clutching at his head, his heart.

"Leave me be," Malleus snarls at his retainers. He knows the flames will not harm him, and they know it too. The least he can do is spare them from witnessing him in such a pathetic, distraught state. It’s over, isn’t it? He, the fearsome dragon, has lost to some self-righteous “hero”. His fairy tale’s happily ever after is impossible.

He’s coping… coping and seething—

At first, Rollo thinks you must be mad, or playing the part in some cruel prank. How can anyone genuinely be attracted to such a repulsive, despicable villain like Malleus Draconia? He cannot fathom it—yet the longer be observes, the more frightening the truth becomes: those feelings of yours are genuine. Rollo then concludes something even more wild: that Malleus as bewitched you, cast some sort of dark magic that clouds your common sense. After all, how can you not see that Malleus is so very, VERY wrong for you?

Whenever possible, Rollo tries to preach, to warn you about dealing with the devil (yes, he outright calls Malleus that) and giving into temptation. He furiously implores you to reconsider, to think of your soul and to salvage it. Alas!! His words only fall on deaf ears. He curses, thinking Malleus’s enchantment far too powerful for him to overcome through typical means. Still, Rollo shall not relent.

His digs and sleights directed at Malleus seem to only become more hateful. When they cross paths in the hallway, Rollo makes it a point to purposefully bump into him on the shoulder--and you can bet this man doesn't hold bad when it comes to the insults. (Sebek tends to yell back in Malleus's defense, while all Malleus does in response is tut and tighten the arm he has wrapped around you.)

Rollo remains cordial to you (though you're not free from his lectures about how you should "renounce Malleus Draconia's hand"). He's still very much resistant to any sort of affection you try to demonstrate for him, be it verbal, physical, or otherwise, often shooing it away or deeming it "salacious". However, he's quick to change his tune if Malleus happens to be nearby, enduring your compliments and brief touches as he fights a blush from creeping onto his face. The blush is something he hastily conceals with his handkerchief and insists is "just the weather" or "a fever", nothing more than that.

There are instances when Rollo wonders why he's dedicating so much time and effort into saving one puny, pathetic person. His cause is so much greater than that, and yet he cannot tear himself away. Perhaps, he reasons, you are just that pitiful, and he feels sorry for you to fall victim to Malleus's machinations again and again. In his mind, Malleus is the monster that has kidnapped some innocent royal, and he, Rollo, is the saint sent to liberate them. Why is it, then, that he also sees your face everywhere even when he doesn't mean to? It's maddening to gaze into his fireplace and jolt back, thinking he has seen a ghostly face in the flames.

Much to Rollo's chagrin, his aide and vice president (and even the entire gaggle of enchanted NBC gargoyles) offer their unsolicited romantic advice. They demonstrate their unwavering support in other ways as well, often sneaking about to check on their beloved prez and making an effort to speak highly of him specifically in your presence. The gargoyles also (annoyingly) try to set a "romantic ambience" up by singing and tossing glitter down on you and him when you happen to speak. They're the wingmen Rollo didn't ask for--

It's ridiculous that they would think I have even a passing interest in seeking intimate companionship, Rollo quietly seethes. He doesn't understand where anyone would get that impression of him from. But everyone around him, even the folks of the City of Flowers, can see it for themselves. Rollo seems haunted by something, always looking over his shoulder with a longing in his eyes. The line between disgust and desire are gradually blurring, in spite of the man himself not recognizing it for what it is.

Rollo becomes increasingly frustrated that you refuse to listen to him, that you continue to hang all over Malleus like some brainwashed thrall. He doesn't even know what he's mad at anymore. At Malleus, for taking you for himself? At you, for being so stupid? At himself, for not being strong enough to bring you back to your senses? Maybe it's all three. It's become an obsession now, never too far from his mind and always gnawing away at his every thought. This fire under his skin, the urge to sin, sin, sin… He feels like he's going crazy--

When the anger has finally swallowed his sanity, Rollo, numb, comes to a singular dark conclusion: it's not him, it's you. It was always you, because all this time, you were in on this ruse. Of course. It was so obvious. How could he have not realized it before? You must be a mage too, one that had cast a horrible curse upon him, made him go mad with desire. Dangerous—you were dangerous, and he had to be rid of you just like he had to be rid of Malleus Draconia. For the world's sake. For his own sake, before fanning flames converged into another inferno.

And so he calmly takes out a plain white letter and matching envelope, penning an invitation to you. He asks you to come visit him in the City of Flowers, that he will be waiting for you at the top of the bell tower. You appear here as requested, and you’re greeted with an offer most ominous: choose him or Malleus; be his or burn like the wicked being that you are. There’s no humor to Rollo’s eyes, only a fervent fire blazing in the darkness. He awaits your answer, ready to cast his judgment soon after.

[crooked-wasteland]

An SA Survivor's Reading of Stolitz

I don't believe that creators should be confined to telling one type of story. The beauty of fiction is to explore worlds, emotions and scenarios that are by definition unreal. It gives a safe space to interact with extremes that we would never necessarily wish to experience in our real lives with the ultimate safeword of no longer engaging with the material.

That being said, as creators, there is an ethical awareness that must be maintained in order to tell stories of things like trauma and abuse. Being alone in a cabin in the woods with a killer, that scenario is not a pervasive subculture in our society. Whereas cases of child abuse, sexual and domestic abuse are not only real, but common. And the complexities of psychological damage that perseveres long after the traumatic events are necessary aspects to telling these stories.

If you are not consciously aware and attentive to the lasting impact these events have, you run up against the horrific possibility of retraumatizing an individual unprepared for the callous invalidation of their experience.

No one should ever be shamed for engaging with media that depicts trauma they themselves may have experienced. For many, engaging in the fiction of it is a way of processing and validating their experience. Frankly saying, if you wish to write about trauma at all, you should be writing for that audience in specific. Otherwise you are simply exploiting the horrors that real people live through and struggle with every day for some cheap drama at the risk of triggering someone whose story you are inadvertently telling.

And much like most therapy speak, the term Triggered has become appropriated and misused to the point of losing all meaning in the lexicon. According to the University of North Carolina, "A trigger is a stimulus that elicits a reaction. In the context of mental illness, "trigger" is often used to mean something that brings on or worsens symptoms. This often happens to people with a history of trauma or who are recovering from mental illness, self-harm, addiction, and/or eating disorders."

The university breaks down the types of triggers as well and gives examples as to what those subcategories mean. I highly recommend that even if you are not the sort to follow up on references, I do recommend going over the article. It offers coping suggestions as well for those who are at risk of becoming triggered and helps refocus the sense of control back to the individual.

With that said, this is where I came across the inspiration for this essay. I completely removed all information for this user because the last thing someone needs when expressing how the misappropriation of abuse triggers them is how it is their fault for being triggered. These are the original tweets this response was in reference to.

As such, I feel the empathetic need to write this essay as a sympathetic reading to this person and others who have experienced SA who find that Stolitz resonates in an undesirable and even harmful way. I think this person deserves to feel seen.

To make the argument that the relationship between Stolas and Blitz isn't fundamentally abusive requires an author-intent reading of the series. It necessitates massive leaps to fill in gaping plot holes that never clarify the story Medrano is intending to tell. This is plainly just a reading of the series as is with all the context that has been physically, actually, shown in the series and that alone.

Throughout the series, Blitz is depicted as emotionally volatile and unpredictable with low self-esteem and crippling loneliness. He is constantly hounding his employees through sexual harassment from a sense of envy over their loving relationship, and infantalizes his twenty-two year old adopted daughter through an abusive dynamic where she ranges from rude to outrightly cruel while he consistently sacrifices any personal boundaries and self-respect.

The relationship between Loona and Blitz in specific feels like a masochistic self-hatred on Blitz's part where he allows himself to be used and abused by a parasitic family member to feel wanted, showing a pure desperation to be desired by someone in any way. Loona is verbally and physically abusive to her adopted father, using terms of endearment like "Dad" as a tactic to control Blitz's behavior, rewarding him when he does something for her benefit and taking it away when she deems him embarrassing or unwanted.

Blitz's tie to Stolas in the main story comes when he is called in a vulnerable time. Hiding from Martha who is hunting him down, he explicitly tells Stolas that now is not a good time to call. Stolas, who has a visual of Blitz's situation, ignores all of it. He is unconcerned about the danger Blitz is in, instead viewing Blitz solely as a sexual object as he offers the trade of the book for sex.

Stolas is more knowledgeable of Blitz's situation than even Blitz is aware of. He not only is told that the current moment is not a good time, and Blitz's tense tone portrays a sense of anxiety, but he can physically see Blitz. It exists entirely within reason that he chose this specific moment to call while he knew Blitz was in a difficult position, using the tension to leverage a quick response that would get Stolas his way without needing to intimidate Blitz himself. Using the threat of a third party to pressure compliance from Blitz.

Come Loo Loo Land, the interactions between Blitz and Stolas are simply outright hostile. Blitz actively does not want to have a sexual encounter with Stolas and is even so untrusting of the Goetia that he is repeatedly asserting the boundary that he is not at all interested in sex, which Stolas explicitly mocks by being openly sexually suggestive to him. Everything Stolas has to say to Blitz is steeped in objectified sexuality as Blitz asserts his person, dehumanizing him to the point that Blitz is first and foremost an object of gratification. Even to the point of neglecting and humiliating his daughter, Stolas uses the excuse of spending time with her as a means of leering on Blitz.

In this episode we see Blitz has a history of being overlooked and unappreciated. His act in Loo Loo Land went nowhere and we see the first hints of his failed performance career. Over the course of the series, this hint towards a crippling lack of self esteem masked by an extroverted exterior is reinforced.

In Harvest Moon, Blitz is genuinely flustered when given recognition by Striker. He is quick to devalue his relationship with Stolas because there genuinely isn't a relationship at this point.

After having gone missing for two episodes, Stolas returns, being slightly less sexual and slightly more affectionate. It is a sudden recharacterization, but it is only for this scene. The rest of the episode once again shows how Stolas values Blitz physically in a sexualized manner and claims Blitz through the use of a pet name he repeatedly requests not to be called. In the opening scene, Blitz vocalizes that he "doesn't mind" their arrangement for the book, which could be taken at face value in regards to the first season. He does have the option to reject the agreement at any time and return the book in the context of this episode. It's why, despite still being an abuse of power dynamics overall, the relationship itself doesn't tip over into abuse. Blitz has the same amount of autonomy as Stolas at this time, before the context of season two, he has just as much power to end the agreement.

With the addition of The Circus, this retroactively is a situation of placating one's abuser. Blitz assuring Stolas that he doesn't mind the sex would be a way of asserting Stolas' complete control over the relationship and that Blitz isn't necessarily threatening the status quo by his question.

They don't actually know anything about each other, they aren't friends and don't spend time together outside of their forced meetings. Blitz doesn't know anything about Stolas and questioning the need Stolas has for his book could very well be read as a means of interrogating the agreement as a whole and figuring out why this was the arrangement.

(The argument that Blitz had any opportunity to negotiate things comes from an audience bias. It is probably the dumbest thing I have ever seen put into writing. Blitz doesn't know that he has any leverage in the relationship at all. He doesn't actually know Stolas has any feelings for him. That's kind of the whole point of the hot and cold romance slant that Medrano is trying to replicate.)

This is because the book is not the reason the relationship exists.

Blitz does not instigate sexual conduct, Stolas does by leading Blitz into a private room and locking them both inside with the impression Blitz would have sex with him. Blitz has no choice in the location or the isolation. He was caught trying to illegally break into the home for the explicit purpose of stealing the book. He was caught and is effectively at Stolas' mercy in every sense of the word. Not only is he still alive due to Stolas' whimsy, but if he tries to escape now after being shown this grace he could risk having the guards hunt him down and the second time will most likely not be so kind.

He literally does not know Stolas. They met for a day as a playdate and Blitz spent the whole time manipulating Stolas into facilitating his own robbery. There is no trust between them, there isn't even a relationship. While the doe-eyed pink vignette animated around Blitz shows that Stolas has an attraction to him, Blitz is entirely in the dark about this. Stolas' behavior is merely unpredictable and precarious from his position and limited knowledge.

(And even when placed in the context of their single day together, Blitz is still objectified by Stolas immediately, and Blitz is repulsed and forced to interact, just like when they are adults.)

(Just another side note, the argument that because someone decides to do something must mean they are not afraid is just asinine. Generally speaking, most people who commit crimes are in a state of fight or flight, it is more akin to gambling your actual life. Its a rewards and risks assessment, not a case of being sociopathically unafraid.)

It isn't until Stolas dramatically announces his desire for sex that Blitz realizes he has something that can be used to distract the Prince while he steals the book. And that's the issue with the argument that Blitz is the one willingly escalating the situation: it's not sincere. Throughout the entire sequence, Blitz isn't once sincerely interested in Stolas. He leans into the pretense to gain control of the situation, of which, might I remind you, he has had zero control over up to this point. Not only is he not interested in Stolas, but this is a bid for control from the position of helplessness. This way he is not relying on Stolas' unpredictable behavior, he is reclaiming power in the dynamic by playing into Stolas' desire.

("But Stolas says nevermind and Blitz keeps going!!"

Yeah, because he needs to maintain control of the situation. This is what power dynamics actually look like; there is a two-way push and pull. The only way he has any power is through the lens of sexuality. He needs to keep Stolas interested in him to keep his position. But throughout the scene, he is explicitly depicted as being put off by Stolas. In fact the entire reason he ties Stolas up is because he was becoming too into the act. He is shown to not be sensually performing bondage, he is trying to remove a problem.

And side-side note, I know I said I wouldn't lean into Medrano's intention or explicit dictation on how she demands her show be interpreted, but she was the one who said that The Circus and Loo Loo Land are connected in the timeline and Blitz's hostility in Loo Loo Land reads far more like a man who feels used and taken advantage of. So even the argument that Blitz was an enthusiastic participant is disproven by Medrano's own metacommentary and character interactions.)

And ultimately, it all boils down to that last moment scene. Between willingly having sex with Stolas when he is tied up or the book, Blitz makes for the door to leave. He doesn’t willingly engage in sex with Stolas. Either you can read the scene as a form of pity sex, which in the context of Medrano’s timeline and Loo Loo Land, shows Blitz was not enamored with the encounter or you have to read this as being manipulatively pressured into it. There is no way to argue Blitz has any leverage in the situation and no grounds to argue that it was mutually enjoyed.

That doesn’t even start to cover the fact that all the way to Ozzie’s, Blitz is repulsed by Stolas. When calling, he openly shows that this is something he would rather not be doing. He doesn’t have feelings for Stolas and despite just using the man who is using him, just having to deal with Stolas is distressing for him.

This is not an equal or fair relationship dynamic. It is not a mutual relationship. This is a relationship of self-preservation and coercion. And the fact is, it could have worked with very small changes to The Circus. Having the dynamic be actually mutual would have been a great start, but just properly addressing the actual dynamic and having Stolas take ownership of what he's done, and validating the fact that coercion is sexual abuse. Because out of all the sweeping changes, retcons and inconsistencies, the one aspect that has persevered throughout the show is just how trapped Blitz feels.

In Truth Seekers, Blitz’s hallucination is contradictory in its attempt to be visceral, and that is not inherently a problem. Trying to be abstract, it is normal for people to experience contradictory emotions over something. It makes sense in that way, but it needs reinforcement in the expanded narrative to tell it's story. As such I am just going to give my reading on the sequence based on my narrative and state it as fact.

The clown costume shows that Blitz sees himself as a joke, feeding into his low self-worth that no matter what he does, he is always the clown being laughed at. The murky wasteland is a reflection of his life. Devoid of anything bright or good, it is populated by dead trees and the ground is a quicksand like sludge, showing how he devours the good and extinguishes it in his own life. He kills his own happiness. Moxxie exists as a critical voice Blitz hears, telling him how stupid and awful he is to everyone around him. Blitz rejects his own self-criticism, reaffirming his self destructive victim mentality that appears when faced with the consequences of his own actions.

It's when the characters of Fizzarolli, Verosika and Striker appear that Blitz gives his regrets, insecurities and resentments voice, poorly impersonating the voices of those who saw the real him. Striker mocking Blitz’s need for companionship, how he lies to himself constantly and presents himself as independent and assured when really he sees himself as needy and pathetic.

Fizzarolli adds to it, pointing out Blitz’s failures to make it on his own, however this portion of the series should probably be considered non-canon as the newest episodes established that Fizzarolli and Blitz have not had any contact with each other since the accident. The more important line Fizzarolli says “You're going to die alone”, have been written out of the show. There would have been no time or place for Fizz to have ever spoken this to Blitz.

Then there is Verosika, who brings up Blitz’s self destructive tendencies, showing Blitz’s own abusive behaviors towards characters like Moxxie. It also suggests an explanation to why Blitz tolerates Loona, because her constant rejection of him contradicts his reactionary need to push others away, as well as feeds his self-flagillation.

It is when he endeavors to flee the reflections of the worst parts of himself that he runs into Stolas. Perched atop a pristine staircase of gold, being fanned by two silhouettes of Blitz. This shows the power imbalance in every way. Blitz doesn't even walk up the stairs, but crawls. Himself just a faceless accessory to Stolas’ desires, but everything he has intrinsically tied to the power Stolas' exerts over him. This is shown explicitly by the chains around his hands and neck, Stolas' reeling him in as he bears a grimace of reluctance. It is the most explicit representation of being trapped between two bad decisions. Either he is just the joke, the failure, the asshole, the stupid piece of shit, or he is the pet, the object, the toy. Stolas mentioning Blitz being "afraid to love" is less a suggestion that Blitz has any feelings for Stolas, but instead his psyche convincing himself that the relationship is not so exploitive. That he is not being dehumanized and abused, but on some messed up level he is being wanted and desired, which is better than the wastes below.

Maybe one could say that Blitz is being elevated out of his situation for how the feathers removed the costume and sludge, essentially wiping him clean of his worst self, providing a sense of safety. But he only has this opportunity because of Stolas, and it isn't free as shown by the feathers also becoming the chains binding him. Because at the end of the day, Stolas isn't the prize at the end of the climb to self actualization, the stairs belonged to him in the first place. To escape the horror-filled wasteland below, Blitz has to play by the rules of the owner of the stairs.

And ultimately, that isn't a story that is off-limits.

The Stolas apologist argument is why the depiction of this dynamic is triggering and harmful, not the fact that it exists in the media. Just owning the scenario and having Stolas acknowledge that he has sexually abused Blitz would have gone a long way. Instead, Medrano and the fandom have insistently represented this victim-blaming interpretation where Blitz is responsible for his own abuse. And that will never be okay. This goes all the way back to my "Not All Victims are Survivors" post. Blitz is the victim in this and his bad behaviour and own abusive actions directly correspond to the fact that he is a victim with a victim mindset. He actively lives in the middle of his abuse and has formed maladaptive strategies through manipulation, harassment, verbal abuse, and self harm. These do not remove his victim status. There is no such thing as a "Perfect Victim". And he should not have to be any sort of way in order to have that experience validated. And the issue that is at the heart of this show is that the narrative and the fanbase require a victim to be framed as delicate and hapless to circumstance with a soft and gentle personality to be a victim. To come out of abuse aggressive and harsh with sharp edges is framed as being less valid. But this outcome is normal and it's a difficult battle to work on oneself to feel safe again. It's absolutely a story worth telling.

But you first have to be interested in telling a story.

[datlokibumtho]

Envy: "In response to not getting the attention i deserve, I have decided that I will cause problems on purpose."

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing

chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.8k

notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji loved working on Sundays.

With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.

He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.

But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.

The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen. 

With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor. 

The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown. 

Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?

The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid. 

Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around. 

Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband. 

As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association. 

Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.

On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.

Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted. 

Or so he thought. 

This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.

Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.

“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”

Naoya scowled awfully.

"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."

Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."

Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji quirked another smile.

Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”

Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer. 

Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.

But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.

Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully. 

“Did you make her see you?”

Quite a question.

Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare. 

Where did that come from? 

“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.

In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man. 

Then, he repeated, “See me who?”

Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.

His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”

What an oddly specific accusation.

“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."

Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.

In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush. 

He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.

His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though. 

"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”

At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.

“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”

In the sheets with an older woman.

Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.

“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.” 

“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”

Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”

He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted. 

“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”

"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”

“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”

As if Naoya would care. 

Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”

The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.

“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.” 

“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”

Immediately, Toji arched a brow. 

“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”

Naoya stared back, rather stupefied. 

In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy. 

He did not like what the other man insinuated. 

"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”

Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."

Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.” 

Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."

Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?” 

"So were you." 

"What?"

"Baby?"

And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice. 

No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.

Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?

“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”

Her voice trailed off.

When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth. 

With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again. 

“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”

No response.

So, he continued.

“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”

Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.

“We’re acquaintances.”

The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.

Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him. 

By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart? 

Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.

At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him. 

“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.

“Yes.” 

In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.

Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”

Checkmate.

But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”

“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”

Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.

Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”

“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”

The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”

“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”

While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.

“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”

At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.

To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.

“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions. 

In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him. 

“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”

With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.

Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.

He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.

He drew in a deep breath...

...and he chuckled.

He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.

He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[hisui-dreamer]

a letter never meant to be delivered

Characters: Riddle, Azul, Jade, Rook, Malleus, Sebek, Lilia

Synopsis: you find a letter left on his desk, and find his feelings for you have overflowed onto it

Tags: love letter, pining, period drama coded, regency-esque language, confessions, bot proofread

Word count: 393

Notes: pick your fav twst boi from above when you read this haha

i just rewatched pride and prejudice and emma so the period drama language has been infused into me haha

Masterlist

To my dearest and most esteemed prefect,

It may come as a surprise for you to receive this letter from me, yet, in this moment, I can think of no better way to express my innermost sentiments. Regardless of your response, I desire nothing more than to remain by your side, even if only as a friend.

I have fallen irrevocably, with profound ardour, for every facet of your being. Each passing moment, without exception, is adorned with the indelible presence of your image in my thoughts. Your essence lingers, casting an enchanting spell that intensifies my longing to be in your presence. This yearning within me knows no respite, ceaselessly expanding like a relentless flame, consuming my every waking thought and weaving its way into the fabric of my dreams.

I have attempted to restrain these sentiments, attempting to confine them within the chambers of my heart. Alas, their potency has surpassed all expectations. It is incredibly foolish and juvenile, I admit, but I cannot help but succumb to envy as I witness your interactions with others, fervently wishing to be the recipient of your attention. I long to be the one who witnesses your most radiant smiles, the one you rely on during your darkest hours, and the one who lingers in your thoughts when you smile so lovingly.

Yet, I must confess that this affection, while bringing me moments of incredible joy, has also become the source of my deepest torment. The perplexity of our relationship and the ambiguity of your feelings continue to elude me, and perhaps foolishly, I wish to put an end to this.

If it is that you do not reciprocate my feelings, then please speak it once and I will never mention my affections again and no longer infringe on our friendship. But, if you do find them my feelings so imposing as I fear, then please take care and I shall distance myself from now on. And I sincerely apologize that I may no longer be considered as your friend.

And if, by some stroke of fate, you harbour affections for me as I do for you, then I beg of you to hasten to my side without delay. Allow me the privilege of holding you close, that I may envelop you in the embrace of my ardent affection.

Signed,

Your most ardent admirer

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[leonw4nter]

Hi🌸

I saw that you were accepting requests so I have one for you. How about bringing husband Leon to the reader's high school reunion? The reader is kind of happy to bring Leon to his old classmates but Leon is so handsome and all that your old acquaintances are wondering why your marriage happened in the first place.

I was thinking about Leon re4r or id, but you can choose anyone!🌸

A Playlist for My Dream High School Romance

Husband!ID!Leon x GN!Reader

Plain Jane: this is what you were in high school, though you didn’t really mind since there was more to being the most beautiful or the most outgoing in school. You always thought you dressed well; not the most fashionable but enough to look decent for school. You also looked fine, not too ugly or too beautiful with the round red framed glasses on your face. The lack of romantic experiences in high school sometimes bothered you but you didn’t mind it overall; you’ve seen the drama of high school romance in your classmates and ultimately decided that staying single is the best option for now… though sometimes you envied it when girls received flowers from their boyfriends or when you saw couples fill out the dance floor and slow danced during the prom. As a dramatic teen, you wailed to your pillow about how you’d never find the love of your life because you were too boring and how you’d always be the third wheel for every couple you’ll meet– hell, you were even confessed to because the boy was double-dog-dared to! You swore that you were destined to only daydream about falling in love with the man of your dreams, dancing under the rain or receiving carnival prices only scenarios that unfolded while you’re fast asleep.

Little did they know, they’d have the maker of their dreams to wake up to in the future; scenes ripped out of a romance novel were no longer bound within the confines of dreams. Leon was more than you’d asked for in the best way possible; he is more than just the beautiful combination of blond and blue, no. The first time you saw him, you thought he looked perfect, the epitome of beauty and charm. As you two got closer and he let you into his life and laid bare his scars for you, you saw that he is not a perfect man– far from it actually– yet you still loved him, maybe even more and much fiercely. You understood and listened to all his stories, accepted him for how he is, the same way he did with you.

Leon’s wedding ring momentarily flashed a bright gold as sunlight reflected from the band, his hands on the wheel as he drove you to your high school. A little nervous was an understatement for how antsy you’re feeling, though you found it stupid to feel this way since these people somewhat remember you and you’re just visiting the school– you literally went to this school for four years and managed to survive each time. Leon stopped the car at a red light, upbeat pop music playing faintly on the radio. He turned to look at you and saw you bouncing your leg, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you stared out on the road. You snapped out of the negative flurry of thoughts troubling you, jerking slightly as you felt Leon’s large hand on your shoulder.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Leon says as he sees you mentally pop back into the car with him. “You okay?”

You nod, giving him a half-smile as you place a hand on top of his that was perched on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you say. Just before you could let Leon say another word, you decide to speak up about whatever was bugging you.

“It’s a little stupid, I know. I mean– I went to school with most of these people for about 4 years and managed to do just fine. God, it’s silly of me to be nervous–”

“Hey,” Leon softly interrupts. “It’s only natural for you to be nervous about this. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen them and you’re expecting change in how they act and look and you’re not sure in what way they’ve changed.”

“Yeah that too but… you know, what if I’m like– too boring again?”

“Too boring?” Leon says in a confused yet gentle tone. “Honey, you’re not ‘too boring’ and if they think so then they can buzz off.”

Leon’s words caused some confidence to stir within you, feeling a little better about yourself. This isn’t like high school anymore. You got this! You got this!

Since the red light switched to green, Leon had to withdraw his hand from your shoulder and put it on the brake handle for the car to start moving again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If someone’s bothering you, just yelp and I’ll beat them up.” Leon joked.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After a few minutes of Leon driving and hyping yourself up some more, he finally arrives at the school and pulls up into the parking lot. After a few moments of choosing the perfect spot to park, he gets out of the car first in order to open the door for you, which you thanked him for.

You two walked into the entrance and you looked around. Not a lot has changed, not even the color of the paint on the walls though you realized that they probably gave it a fresh coat since it looked much more vibrant than what your memory told you to expect. The lockers were still where they were when you still went to this school but they no longer had the scratched paint and rusting locks, along with the residue of glue from stickers that had been forcefully peeled off.

“Silverlake High School’s Silver Archers,” Leon quietly mutters to himself. “Your school’s mascot is an archer?”

“Yeah. Though we didn’t have an archery club, which I found kinda silly,” you respond.

Leon hums and continues to look at the trophy case, occasionally reading some things out loud.

“Honey look,” Leon says. “I found you!”

He points to a small picture in the case; it was you with your ratty old glasses and a silver medal around your neck, a small trophy on your hands along with some flowers. You lit up as you looked at that image, the memory clear as day; you had won second place in the inter-school extemporaneous speech competition with other neighboring high schools. You shared this fact with Leon, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline as he looked at you and then the case and back to you again, thoroughly impressed.

“I wifed up a genius,” Leon exclaims. “So you managed to win a competition where they asked the world’s most pressing questions and only gave you a minute to compose your answer in front of everybody? And you had to make sure that your answer would fit in 6 minutes? God you’re so cool.”

You giggled a little bit at that, suddenly feeling like the coolest person in this entire Earth. You thought that this win is truly a feat but these facts coming from Leon’s mouth? Your husband saying it? It was as if you were doing his job, saving the world and fighting off the stuff of nightmares with a pistol; it sounded even more impressive coming from him. Now, he was taking his phone out to take pictures of the other awards you’ve won that were displayed on the case.

“Leon, we gotta hurry. The reunion might’ve started already!”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Luckily, you two made it on time. Like magic, you were less anxious compared to earlier and managed to find the courage to even greet some of your classmates. Leon was proud that you were breaking out of your shell to greet them, really feeling it with each laugh and conversation shared with some old acquaintances.

“Oh? Who’s that? He’s hot,” your classmate asks. “Never seen him around before. I wonder if he’s single.”

You turn around to where she’s pointing, only to see that she was pointing at Leon. Your husband. Oh he sure as hell isn’t single.

“Oh him? He’s Leon. My husband,” you say. You weren’t one to get jealous but to hear your classmate call Leon ‘hot’ and wonder if he’s single triggered a reaction out of you.

She looked surprised, looking back at you and then him and back at you again like a deer in headlights.

“Wait… really? Like you’re really married?” she asked and it didn’t sound like she was ready to ask how you two met; she sounded like she wanted to know how someone like him could marry someone like you.

“Yeah, I can make a quick run to the court right now for a copy of our marriage certificate,” you half-joke in order to hide the growing feeling of hurt.

“Uh, haha…,” she mumbles. “He’s everything actually- like he’s really good eye-candy. You’re lucky he chose you, you know.”

“I’m lucky he chose me? What do you mean by that.” you say.

“What do you mean?” She asks, oblivious to the fact on how mean that sounded. Or maybe she was just playing oblivious.

“Nevermind.”

You retreat from the group walking up to Leon and watch people socialize. Before he can even ask, the emcee for the reunion calls everyone’s attention and says some words but even the volume of that loud-ass mic was not enough to drown out the doubt swirling on your mind. You’re only pulled out of your thoughts when you hear her voice again, this time talking to other people about how shocked she is that you’re married to him, out of all people. The plain Jane married to the absolute 10 she’s ever seen and how it’s a little comical to look at when there could’ve been much hotter women. You also hate how she keeps glancing back at him and giggling, not even sparing a glance at you.

“That woman cannot stop looking at me,” Leon whispers to you as he subtly motions to her.

“Her? Yeah, she called you ‘hot’ and ‘eye-candy’. She’s a little surprised to find out that you’re married to me,” you moodily mumble.

“Why is she surprised?,” he asks.

“Well, look at me and then look at you. You’re good-looking. Really good looking and I’m just here. To them, it would be more believable if you married some model or something. It’s like an ‘oh my god how did this marriage even happen’ moment.”

Leon looks at them, trained eyes staring them down for a solid few moments before turning his gaze back to you. “Well I kind of looked at me and then now I’m looking at you and I think you’re good-looking. Like really good-looking. I have a strong, intelligent, and independent person in front of me and I don’t think they need me but they still let me into their life. Yeah, I’m also having a ‘how did this marriage even happen’ moment’ because how did I get so lucky that out of all the people in this world, you fell in love with me and trusted the rest of your life and the lives after this to be spent with someone like me?”, he finishes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world; he probably doesn’t need to look at the night sky in order to admire the stars when you have them in your eyes. The world just melted away into background noise, witness to the genuine love and loyalty Leon yields for you.

NOTE - Finally got to finish another request, a few more to go so just wait for that :)) I love being on break, can't wait for the summer break so I get to write some more (currently on a week-long break after exams, hopefully i passed with high scores on all exams!!). ALSO IT'S RE4R'S 1ST YEAR ANNIVERSARY WHERE I'M FROM LETS GOOOOO RAAAHHHHH 💪💪🔥🔥 I also got resident evil and dmc shirts I begged my mom for (she had no choice but to say yes /hj). Also I'm starting an AO3 account for devil may cry fics, if anyone's interested ;) That's all and thank you for reading my fics, esp to the anon who requested this- I hope you I lived up to your expectations <33 I <33333 UUUUUUUU

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[ransprang]

Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (Let me do it for you)

Studying alongside Coriolanus, you had to put in all the extra hard work to keep up. You wanted to excel, but he was trained to win. Before Sejanus’s fortune he was on his own, striving for the scholarship. Even now after he had got it all, a goal to work towards, he stayed at his best, he never wanted to be at a place mercy ever again. You were at awe at all this ambition but it always put you at a place behind him, you were second. It was not enough, you wanted to be ahead if not eye to eye with Coriolanus.

As you to approached the final year of university and the preparations began for the yearly Hunger Games, Dr Gaul put Corio in charge of making it extravagant, the best yet. Especially approaching graduation it was his time to shine, to take the torch of his predecessors. He was more than happy to do so, to prove himself and achieve his full potential. But, you were left behind, there were many tasks given to you too, but it just never felt enough. You had everyone’s respect, Dr Gaul always knew of your ambition. She took a sadistic pleasure in watching you try harder as she gave Corio the opportunities before your eyes.

One day as you prepared the logistics, planned the map and weapons for the new arena, your classmate ran to you with a summon from the Doctor. You ran to her room, as she paced her lab, “y/n I’ll give it to you.” You raised an eyebrow replying “what exactly?” Dr Gaul snickered “exactly what you want.” A part of you lit up, you never hid your intentions to achieve power and climb the hierarchy but was she really about to give it to you? You simply wanted her to say it out loud. Dr Gaul looked up with a slight smile “organise it alongside Coriolanus. You will give exactly your 50%, it’s your final semester project with him.” Your eyes twinkled as you held your head higher, chest puffed with pride “This year’s games will bring glory to the capital,” as you turned around and walked out of the room.

Later in the day you found Coriolanus, you were dressed in a smart red pencil dress. Hair neatly combed, in a braid, as you said with weight in your voice “please run me through what is done so far and I’ll give you the logistical report.” Corio looked cautious, he was paranoid. His plans, his glory, he wondered why he had to split his power, were you here to foil all his plans? But this didn’t matter, he had to graduate, and he was not going to fuck it up especially if the government thought you important enough to be sharing the work.

Coriolanus respectfully told you about the concept he was working on, the camera placements and sponsors. You listened to him carefully, hearing the enthusiasm and passion in his voice, bordering mania. He suddenly stopped dictating as he got quieter “we must intervene if we have to, change the course of things to get as many viewers y/n,” he raised an eyebrow. You gave him a smirk “couldn’t agree more, the capital must have its yearly entertainment, there should be blood, drama, love, and heartbreak. Even if we need to…” you stopped, biting your tongue. Coriolanus walked closer, curiosity brimming his face “If we need to what y/n?” He asked sternly, demanding a reply. He hated mystery. You looked at him pursing your lips, finding semblance and command in your voice “If we need to cheat, Corio.” You could see the iris in Corio’s bright blue eyes widen, the shock in his expression, it almost looked pleasant. “We shall tell no one,” Corio said stepping back, you could see a small smile. Both of you knew Dr Gaul didn’t mind, ends justify the means after all.

Both your minds combined, you and Coriolanus stood at the the head of the room announcing the start of the Hunger Games ceremony before the referee took over. Wearing your best dress, Corio was all suited up as you two walked back to your assigned seating with all your classmates clapping and eyeing you both down with envy.

The games began and so did the trouble. The tributes ran to get the weapons but only a few turned on one another the rest stood put. A pre planned protest, yet a powerful one. Everyone was at the edge of the seat, waiting to see further developments. The committee members exchanged glances, a sense of urgency in the air. The referree stunned “I guess they are standing still as to not splash the split blood,” becoming the only one to laugh at his flat joke.

You were scared, worried as to what to do when you looked at Coriolanus he was already looking at you with a similar look in his eyes. He made his way over to you “y/n we must do something about this.” He held your hand by the wrist tightly dragging you outside the surveillance hall, just as a peacemaker appeared with a message from the higher ups “you two have 2 hours to fix this, or you will be dealt with personally by the university board.” Corio was worked up, his hair a mess, he sat on a bench defeated. You turned to him, cupping his face in a moment of passion “Corio I have an idea, but you have to help me.” Hearing those words, and being fueled with hope once more he stood up tall and leant in for a kiss. You grabbed his hair as you two made out outside the door. You two pulled away “we don’t have time, but we need to get the families of the tributes under our control. We must tell them to urge the contestants to fight.” Coriolanus understood exactly what you meant, you both parted ways, as he sent out orders to all the peacemakers in the different districts to round up the families quickly. You asked the committee to organise mics for the family members and had them connected to the speakers inside the arena. Within an hour the family members were ready to talk, they begged the tributes to fight, informing them of the dire consequences. Corio pleaded Dr Gaul to erase the footage of these announcements.

You and Coriolanus returned to the surveillance hall, disheveled. Standing there you two were desperate to see the result of your scheme, the footage began from when the tributes stood straight with their weapons to now running across the arena attacking and hacking to win, with all the events in the middle erased. The whole room began clapping, and watching excitedly. The Hunger games were back on.

You and Corio exchanged glances, a twinkle in your eyes. As the games came to an end you two walked to each other as he pulled you in for a tight hug, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in celebration. You two had graduated. Dr Gaul looked proud near the gate, who knew she had been a match maker as well. As you and Coriolanus pulled away from the hug, you pressed your lips against his, giving him a smooch. Corio smiled “you will work alongside me y/n, never out of my sight,” he said with conviction. Your heart beat faster, but before you could reply, all your classmates flocked around to wish congratulations.

Later in the evening Coriolanus sent a letter through a classmate which invited you for dinner, at his place. You were glowing from the victory, you hopped up on your feet to decide on a dress. Getting ready for a date, with a man you’ve always competed with, now you shared the win with him. You wanted to be at your best tonight, spending a little extra time on yourself you arriving a whopping 30 minutes late.

You walked into his house, the lights were dimmed, a table before you was set up with food, and a candle. Coriolanus was sitting on one end staring deep into the burning flame, you stepped forward in your heels as you called out “Corio?” But, he didn’t move. Puzzled you walked closer “Coriolanus? I’m here.” He still didn’t respond, just started at the flame in a trance. Just as it caught your eye, a broken wine glass beside him. His hand was tightly in a fist, with a piece of glass pressed through his palm and blood dripping down. You gasped “Corio?! Are you okay?!” Running to touch his hand, he finally moved retracting his arm. You saw the whites of his eyes were red like a bull, he then stood up, and breathed heavy “where were you?” Corio demanded an answer. Shocked at the situation “I was at home.” He snickered “Tell me y/n where were you?” You argued back getting annoyed “As I said, I was at home getting ready.” Corio paced closer “You live 10 minutes away from me, what makes you 30 late? WHY? what were you doing?” Tears brimming your eyes, but you could feel the heat of anger rise from the pits of your belly. You picked up the fork nearby, ready to stab the man before you, he caught your wrist. “You dare attack me. You want to kill me?”, you stepped back getting a little scared you asked “Do you want to kill me…?” You both went silent. The sound of heavy breathing filled the air, either of you scared to make a move.

The door to the room behind the hall opened, breaking the tension, Coriolanus’s grandmaa stepped out, a horrified expression donned on her face. “Are you two insane?” She questioned innocently. Corio’s eyes widened, you looked baffled searching for an answer as she spoke again “I was hoping for my handsome boy to have a nice cute date. What happened here? Please fix it, I will have none of this in my house.” As she turned and went back into her room leaving you two alone.

You looked at Coriolanus, as he gathered himself and tried to look composed. You cleared your throat as you looked for a first aid box nearby trying to forget what just happened. You sat him down on the couch as you patched up his hand, you both caught each other’s eyes. Getting lost in their depths, realising the amount of love between you two and what fools you had been. Corio leaned into a kiss, slowly biting your lip lovingly, yet felt like a slight punishment for being late. You smiled as you retaliated by dominating his tongue with yours to assert yourself. He wrapped you in his arms pressed your chest against his, as you further pushed yourself making him fall back on the couch with you on top. He held you by the waist as you kissed him while straddling. Coriolanus used his strength to flip you around to be beneath him, he positioned himself between your legs, dry humping you while kissing you deeply. You wrapped your legs around him, as you moved your hips with his rhythm, rubbing your wet panties against the hard buldge in his pants.

He pulled away, to take a deep breath and take off his shirt and unbutton his pants, as you helped him pull them down. He roughly you pushed you back on the sofa, harshly pulling aside your panties exposing your wet cunt to him. He ripped them off, leaving a red bruise at the waist line of where the panty had been. You moaned at the pain, as you dug your nails deep into his back leaving marks in return. He then pulled off your dress leaving you completely exposed to him. Coriolanus used his hand to guide his hard cock to rub the folds of your pussy, using his tip to play with your clit, he smacked his cock against your pussy. Watching you roll back your head and moan his name. He then pushed his tip inside your entrance, slowly moving his hips back and forth till the penis was completely inside you till his base. He leaned on top of you as your chests touched he began sucking on your neck. He thrusted in you as you moved yourself, to increase the speed. He was stretching you out , as you let your fingers get tangled in his hair, you guided his lips to your mouth. He grunted and groaned in your mouth as he got faster and as you reached climax you arched your back into him, pulling away from the kiss your let out his name releasing your fluids around his cock deep inside of you. Coriolanus pushed himself deep till you could feel his balls against your skin, he gritted his teeth together as he pumped you up with his cum. He finally exhaled, as he collapsed ontop of you, you softly hugged him closing your eyes and pressing your face in the crook of his neck. He too turned to face you, taking you into an embrace, as his cock was still inside you and your legs wrapped around. You two were tangled up together, resting.

Grandmaa Snow drank her tea in bed as she smiled to herself

your grandmaa,

admin sav

[honeyhae-svt]

Untold

Kang Haerin FANFICTION (oneshot)

GN Reader x Kang Haerin - r16+!!!

GENRE: Angst, Drama, Romance, High school, RomCom.

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: Infidelity (light), Betrayal, Bullying / Rumours, Jealousy, Manipulation (light).

wc: 7134

Synopsis: In high school, rumors spread, secrets come out, and friendships get tested. You thought you knew who to trust, but when betrayal strikes, everything changes. Caught between your past and a surprising connection with the new girl, Haerin, you have to decide if you can rebuild what’s been broken. It’s a story of heartbreak, healing, and a romance you didn’t see coming.

>>>pictures are from 📌, CTTO

a/n: hope y'all like this one(?), idk, maybe it's a little cliche but well, we have our preferences soo... please do enjoy this work.

You were always the lively, outgoing, and extroverted student everyone knew at school, effortlessly drawing attention wherever you went. Your charm, humor, and kindness made you popular, and it didn’t hurt that girls seemed to swoon over you more than they ever did over the boys.

You were tomboyish, smart, and playful—a combination that had both admiration and envy directed your way, particularly from the boys. After all, you could steal girls’ hearts with ease, becoming the school’s unofficial heartthrob.

"Y/Nnie, you got another confession letter, this time from..." Minji, one of your closest friends, paused to inspect the letter in her hand. "Kim something," she shrugged, tossing it onto your desk. It was already the third confession of the day.

Sighing, you put down your phone and picked up the letter. Though you received these love letters regularly, you still appreciated them, each one different in its own way. What you didn’t enjoy was the inevitable rejection that followed—figuring out how to let someone down without breaking their heart was exhausting.

"The handwriting is neat," you commented, scanning the page. "And the way they described my eyes? Not bad at all." You folded the letter and stuffed it into your bag.

Minji rolled her eyes, hopping onto the table. "You don't even know him, do you?" she asked, a sly grin on her face.

"'Him'?" You blinked, surprised.

"Yeah, him. It’s a guy." Minji confirmed, watching as your expression shifted into a frown.

You sighed again, already preparing your response. Men weren’t your thing. Ever since what happened with your father, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust them. That’s why dating girls had always been so much easier—you could be dominant, in control, the way you wanted it.

"Tell him I'm not interested," you said, leaning back in your chair and reaching for your phone.

"What? Why do I have to do it?" Minji scoffed, crossing her arms. "That's your job, not mine."

The classroom buzzed with the usual gossip and chatter as the two of you settled into the lull of scrolling through your phones.

"Oh, did you hear there’s a transfer student?" Minji added casually. You barely reacted, too caught up in your feed to care.

"She’s transferring into your class," Minji continued. Before she could elaborate, the classroom door swung open, and everyone scrambled to their seats as the teacher entered.

Curious, you put your phone away and straightened up, eyeing the unfamiliar girl who followed the teacher inside. She had wide doe, cat eyes, her hair neat and shiny, and she stood taller than most of your classmates. Her presence was quiet, but something about her intrigued you enough to look twice.

The teacher clapped his hands to get the class’s attention. “Settle down, everyone. We have a new student joining us today.” His tone was neutral, but the room was buzzing with curiosity.

You leaned back in your seat, your eyes flickering back to the new girl standing at the front. Her hands were clasped tightly together, betraying a hint of nervousness despite her calm appearance. You found yourself watching her a bit too intently—she had this quiet confidence, the kind that intrigued you, but also left you wondering what secrets lay beneath the surface.

“This is Kang Haerin,” the teacher introduced. “She’s new here, so I hope you all make her feel welcome.”

Haerin. The name felt soft, matching her gentle demeanor. Your eyes followed her as she scanned the room, her gaze landing briefly on you before she quickly looked away. Was it just your imagination, or did she look... uneasy?

“Go ahead and take a seat,” the teacher said, motioning to the empty desk a few rows ahead of yours. As Haerin moved toward it, you noticed a ripple of whispers spreading among the students. You weren’t the only one who’d been captivated by her presence.

Minji leaned over, whispering, “She's pretty cute, huh? Heard she transferred from Seoul or something.”

You barely nodded, still watching Haerin as she sat down, adjusting her hair behind her ear. There was something about her you couldn’t quite place—something that made your chest tighten a little.

As the lesson resumed, you found it impossible to focus. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Haerin, wondering what her story was. Why did she transfer? Why did she look so tense when your eyes met? You weren’t used to being thrown off by someone, but here she was, making you question things you hadn’t thought about in a long time.

When the bell rang for lunch, Minji was quick to pull you aside.

"Let’s go grab food, I’m starving," she said, dragging you out of your seat. But before you could leave the classroom, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned to see Haerin standing there, her expression unreadable.

“Y/N, right?” she asked softly, her voice smooth but a little hesitant.

"Uh, yeah." You replied, trying to hide your surprise. How did she know your name?

“I—I just wanted to say hi,” she stammered, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “You seem... popular around here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the statement. It was rare for someone to approach you so nervously. Most girls were bold, confident, trying to catch your attention with flirty remarks or teasing grins. But Haerin wasn’t like that.

"Uh, thanks. Welcome to the school, I guess," you replied, trying to sound casual.

She smiled—just a small curve of her lips, but it felt genuine. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with Minji watching the whole exchange, eyebrows raised.

“Hmm, weird,” Minji muttered. “New girl has guts. Didn’t expect that.”

You shrugged, trying to shake off the odd feeling lingering from your conversation with Haerin. But as you left the classroom, Minji linked her arms with you, leading you the way to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria buzzed with laughter and chatter, the familiar sound of students teasing each other filling the air. You sat with your group of friends, casually picking at your food and sipping your favorite drink. One of your friends cracked a joke, and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, thoroughly enjoying the playful atmosphere.

But then, someone approached your table. Haerin.

She stood there with a shy smile on her lips, clutching her lunch tray. The conversation around you quieted as all eyes shifted to her—and then to you. She didn’t say a word, but the way she looked at you, seeking silent permission to sit down, which created a brief moment of awkward tension.

Clearing your throat, you reached for her tray, placing it on the table as an invitation. Haerin took the seat across from you.

"Hey, new girl—Haerin, right?" one of your friends asked. Haerin nodded, picking up her chopsticks and nibbling on her food.

It was clear she wanted to be near you, but there was a certain distance between her and everyone else at the table. Maybe it was just her shyness, or perhaps something more. When your friends tried making small talk, asking her a few questions, she responded with simple nods and shakes of her head. The lack of engagement left some of them visibly annoyed.

But you? You were the most intrigued.

You noticed how she kept making eye contact with you, her gaze lingering before darting away, like she was trying hard to maintain her composure but couldn’t quite manage. That amused smirk tugged at the corner of your lips—you were enjoying this little game of push and pull. It was the most excitement you’d felt in a while.

As the conversation drifted and your friends began goofing off, you leaned in across the table, your smirk never fading.

"We’re both sitting here, feeling..." You started, but before you could finish, Minji slumped down beside you, taking the empty seat next to yours. Her arm casually wrapped around your waist as she rested her head on your shoulder, her attention fixed on her phone.

Minji glanced across the table, noticing Haerin. She narrowed her eyes for a brief moment before offering a polite smile. "Hey, new girl," she said casually, before immediately returning her focus to her phone. She leaned in closer to show you something on the screen—a funny picture, judging by your stifled laugh.

Haerin, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly spoke up. Her voice was soft, but her words had an edge of determination. "Feeling what, Y/N?"

Her directness took everyone by surprise, their attention snapping back to her. It wasn’t the kind of tone anyone expected from her—especially not aimed at you.

You blinked, caught off guard, while Minji looked between the two of you, her confusion evident. Something unspoken was hanging in the air now, the tension palpable.

The silence that followed Haerin’s question was thick. You felt the eyes of your friends on you, waiting for your response, but it was Haerin’s unwavering gaze that held your attention.

You leaned back slightly, tilting your head as if to analyze her. That determination in her voice had caught you off guard. For a moment, you weren’t sure if she was challenging you or just curious, but either way, it made your heart race in a way you weren’t used to.

A slow grin spread across your lips. “Feeling curious,” you said smoothly, your eyes locked on hers. “About you.”

Your words hung in the air, and you could tell by the way Haerin’s posture stiffened that she hadn’t expected that response. The corner of her mouth twitched, as if she wasn’t sure how to react.

Before the tension could build further, Minji’s grip around your waist tightened slightly, her head still resting on your shoulder. “What are you two talking about?” she asked, her tone light but laced with something unspoken. Jealousy, perhaps?

You glanced at her briefly, your smirk fading just a little. “Nothing serious,” you replied casually, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that Minji’s sudden closeness wasn’t just random.

Minji gave Haerin a once-over before returning her focus to her phone, but the subtle shift in her demeanor wasn’t lost on you. Something was definitely off with her, but you couldn’t figure out what just yet.

Haerin, on the other hand, had composed herself. She lowered her gaze to her food, her expression unreadable, but there was a noticeable tension in her shoulders. Your curiosity deepened.

The cafeteria noise resumed, and your friends went back to fooling around, but your mind was elsewhere. Haerin had piqued your interest in a way you hadn’t expected, and Minji’s reaction only complicated things further.

As lunch neared its end, Haerin quietly gathered her tray. Without a word, she stood up and walked away, but not before glancing at you one last time. That look in her eyes—it wasn’t just shy anymore. There was something deeper, something that made you want to follow her.

But before you could act on that impulse, Minji’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You’re not actually into her, are you?” she asked, her tone playful but with an edge of seriousness.

You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to read between the lines. “What makes you think that?”

Minji shrugged, still holding onto you tightly. “I don’t know. Just wondering.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

There it was again. That hint of jealousy. You could feel it creeping into her words, her body language. And for the first time, you began to wonder if Minji’s feelings for you ran deeper than friendship.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you stood up and stretched, your mind racing with the possibilities. Haerin. Minji. The strange tension building between the three of you.

This was going to get interesting.

After lunch, you and Minji headed to your next class, but your mind was still caught between Haerin’s strange behavior and Minji’s lingering possessiveness. It wasn’t long before you noticed someone else watching you—Hyejin, the class president.

Hyejin was one of those girls who seemed perfect at everything: top of the class, captain of the debate team, and effortlessly cool in a way that didn’t scream for attention but still got it anyway. You’d never paid her much mind, but today she seemed particularly interested in your interaction with Haerin. Maybe a little too interested.

As you slid into your seat, Hyejin casually walked over and leaned against your desk. “So, what’s going on with the new girl?”

You raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by her sudden interest. “What do you mean?”

She gave you a sly smile. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. Everyone saw her sitting at your table, looking like she wanted to say more than just ‘hi.’ The whole cafeteria was buzzing about it.”

“Is that so?” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “Didn’t know it was that big a deal.”

Hyejin shrugged, but the way her eyes sparkled with mischief told you she wasn’t buying your nonchalance. “You have a way of stirring things up, you know that? First Minji practically glued to your side, now the new girl with those doe eyes of hers. You might want to watch out.”

You smirked. “Sounds like I’ve got competition.”

Hyejin’s smile widened, but there was something sharper behind it. “Just a friendly warning. Some people don’t take well to sharing.”

Her words hung in the air for a second longer than necessary before she sauntered back to her seat, leaving you with a new thought: Hyejin wasn’t just warning you out of kindness. She was clearly up to something, and you had a feeling this wasn’t the last you’d hear from her.

As class dragged on, you noticed more students glancing in your direction, no doubt fueled by Hyejin’s not-so-subtle observations. The attention wasn’t new to you, but today it felt different. The vibe in the room had shifted. Even Minji, who was usually content to banter with you throughout class, seemed quieter than usual, stealing glances at Haerin whenever she thought you weren’t looking.

By the time the final bell rang, you were ready to escape the growing tension. But as you packed up your things, you spotted someone else lingering near the door—Jisoo, your partner from last semester’s science project.

Jisoo wasn’t part of your usual crowd, but the two of you had gotten along well enough while working together. She was quiet, more of an observer than a talker, but when she did speak, it was with a sharpness that caught people off guard. Today, though, she seemed different. Nervous.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice lower than usual. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “What’s up?”

Jisoo hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s about Haerin.”

You blinked. “The new girl?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I don’t know her personally, but... I’ve heard some things. Back at her old school, she didn’t exactly have the best reputation.”

You frowned, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

Jisoo leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s just say she’s not as innocent as she looks. There were rumors—about her messing with people’s heads, getting close to them and then... turning on them. I don’t know how much of it is true, but I thought you should know. Be careful around her.”

Before you could respond, Jisoo quickly walked away, leaving you standing there with more questions than answers.

Haerin, with her quiet demeanor and shy smiles, didn’t seem like the type to cause trouble. But then again, everyone has secrets.

As you walked out of the classroom, you caught sight of Haerin standing at the far end of the hallway, talking to one of the teachers. For a brief moment, her eyes met yours, and that familiar unease crept back into your chest.

What was her deal?

Just then, a pair of arms snaked around your waist from behind, pulling you into a familiar embrace. You didn't need to look to know who it was—Minji. She rested her chin on your shoulder, her warmth sending a sense of comfort through you. But today, it felt different. She was being unusually clingy, and you could sense a certain edge in her tone when she spoke.

“Karaoke later?” she asked, her voice teasing but with an undertone of something deeper. “Seonhwa and the others are coming.”

You hesitated. On one hand, you had cram school later—something you couldn’t afford to miss—but on the other, hanging out with your friends sounded like the perfect distraction from the swirling confusion in your mind. You weighed your options, feeling Minji’s arms tighten slightly around you, as if trying to pull you in more than just physically.

“I don’t know,” you replied, unsure. “I’ve got a lot to do today.”

Minji’s grip didn’t loosen. Instead, she let out a soft sigh, her voice dropping to a low, almost coaxing tone. “Come on, Y/N, we don’t get to do this every day. Just this once. Please?”

Her persistence was hard to resist, as usual. You glanced over your shoulder at her pouting expression, knowing full well she wasn’t going to let this go. With a sigh of your own, you finally gave in.

“Fine,” you muttered, “but only for a little while.”

Minji’s face lit up with a victorious smile, and before you could react, she grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours in a way that felt far more intimate than usual. The closeness was something you’d grown used to over time, but today, with the weight of Haerin’s earlier gaze still lingering in your mind, it felt...different. Almost like a silent competition was brewing between the two girls.

As Minji led you out of the classroom, your thoughts were disrupted when you passed by Haerin, who was still standing by the door. The brief exchange of glances between you felt electric, as though there was an unspoken connection pulling you towards her, even as Minji clung to your side.

But then, out of nowhere, you felt a gentle tug on your wrist. You turned around, surprised to see Haerin standing there, her fingers still wrapped lightly around your wrist. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to slow.

Minji stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing at Haerin in a way that wasn’t just curious—it was almost territorial. “Can we help you?” Minji asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

Haerin ignored her and looked straight at you, her unreadable expression softening into a quiet smile. “See you tomorrow?” she asked, her voice so gentle, it sent a shiver down your spine. The smile she gave you—small and shy—was strangely comforting, and for a second, you forgot that Minji was still standing next to you.

Caught off guard, you returned the smile, a genuine half-smile that felt like the most honest reaction you’d had all day. “Yeah,” you replied softly. “See you tomorrow.”

The tension between the three of you was palpable as Minji let out a loud sigh, pulling you closer to her, almost as if to stake her claim. “Alright, enough with the sweet goodbyes,” she grumbled, lacing her arm through yours once more. “We’re late.”

With that, Minji practically dragged you away, but your thoughts were left behind with Haerin—her smile, her touch, and the lingering feeling that something about her was different. As you caught up with the rest of your friends, your mind kept wandering back to Haerin, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complicated than you anticipated.

The walk with Minji was filled with light chatter, but your thoughts kept drifting. Without thinking too much, you brought up the one question that had been nagging at you since lunch.

“So, what’s Haerin’s story? What happened at her old school before she transferred here?”

Minji paused, her steps slowing slightly. She seemed to consider it for a moment before offering a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t know all the details, but I’ve heard she’s bad news. Doesn’t seem like the friendly type.”

Her tone was casual, almost dismissive, but you couldn’t help noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor—the tension in her voice, the way she stiffened. It made you wonder if your question had struck a nerve. Was it curiosity or something else? A flicker of jealousy, maybe? Minji never liked to share your attention, but for now, she kept her emotions in check, hiding behind her usual playful facade.

You arrived at the karaoke room soon after, the air immediately filling with laughter and music. The atmosphere was lively, as always, your friends singing and goofing off without a care in the world. Minji, though, had a different energy tonight. Whenever it was her turn to sing, her eyes found yours, and every love song she chose seemed to carry a hidden message.

It was subtle at first, but soon, it became impossible to ignore—the way her gaze lingered on you, her voice softening as if speaking only to you. And while you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, the intensity behind her eyes was unmistakable. You smiled, trying to play it off like you hadn’t noticed, but deep down, you knew. There was something more to her actions tonight, something she wasn’t saying.

But you couldn’t let yourself think about it. Not now. Your friendship with Minji was important, too much to lose over misinterpreting her signals. So, you decided to stay neutral, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

As the night went on, amidst the laughter and off-key singing, Seonhwa suddenly brought up a familiar name, one that immediately caught your attention.

“Haerin,” she said casually, as if dropping a bomb in the middle of the conversation.

Minji’s eyes narrowed at your reaction, but she said nothing, simply watching you closely.

“I think that new girl’s into you,” Seonhwa added, glancing at you with a mischievous smirk. The others murmured in agreement, some laughing, some nodding.

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you played it cool, forcing a laugh. “Really? I don’t think so.”

Seonhwa wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily. “Oh, come on. You must’ve noticed something. Or... is it that you’re into her too?”

You chuckled again, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you crazy? I barely know her. It’s nothing.”

“Hmm, sure.” Seonhwa’s tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable. Before she could push further, someone else chimed in.

“She’s weird, though. Off, you know? Definitely not your type.”

The conversation shifted again, as Seonhwa quickly moved on to another topic, but you were left with your thoughts. You stared down at your grape juice, swirling it absentmindedly.

Why did you care so much? You’d only just met Haerin, yet she was all you could think about. It was unlike you. The magnetic pull you felt towards her—this unfamiliar curiosity—was something new, something that unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It was as if you've just discovered a part of you that you, yourself didn't even know existed.

And yet, for the first time, you found yourself wanting to know more.

The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows as you settled into your seat. The usual buzz of students preparing for the day filled the room, but your thoughts were still wrapped around the previous night’s karaoke session. Haerin’s name, her curious eyes, and that inexplicable pull you felt towards her were on your mind.

As the day went on, you found yourself scanning the hallway for Haerin. The moments between classes felt longer than usual, and you were increasingly aware of how much you wanted to get to know her better.

Your chance came during lunch. As you walked into the cafeteria, you spotted Haerin sitting alone at a corner table, her lunch untouched as she flipped through a book. You hesitated for a moment, then made your way over.

“Hey, Haerin,” you greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. “Mind if I join you?”

She looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a soft, shy smile. “Of course. I was actually hoping you would.”

The conversation started off slow but gradually picked up. You learned that Haerin had a love for literature and was passionate about art, which was something you could relate to. You found her company surprisingly calming, and her quiet nature seemed to draw out a side of you that you rarely showed to others.

Days turned into weeks, and your friendship with Haerin grew. You’d meet up between classes, share stories, and support each other. You noticed Haerin’s subtle gestures of encouragement, especially when she caught on to your quieter moments and offered a listening ear.

During one of your conversations, Haerin brought up a topic that made you pause.

“You know,” she began, her voice gentle, “I’ve noticed that you seem to carry a lot with you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. The trauma from your childhood—seeing your father with another woman, the betrayal, the pain—it was something you never really spoke about. But with Haerin’s sincerity, the walls you had built around those memories began to crack.

“I appreciate that, Haerin,” you said, looking down at your hands. “It’s just… hard to trust people, especially men.”

Haerin nodded, her expression one of understanding. “It’s okay to take your time. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

As the weeks passed, you found yourself opening up more to Haerin, sharing bits and pieces of your past. She listened without judgment, offering support that slowly began to heal old wounds. The bond between you grew stronger, but the romance wasn’t rushed. It was more like a gentle breeze, gradually building up over time.

Meanwhile, Minji’s presence remained a constant in your life. She continued to be clingy, but her actions were becoming more noticeable. She would often interrupt conversations with Haerin, subtly trying to draw you back into her orbit. Minji’s jealousy simmered beneath the surface, and you could sense it in the way she would look at you and Haerin.

One afternoon, after a particularly intense discussion about your past with Haerin, you noticed Minji waiting outside the classroom, arms crossed and a frown on her face. As you approached, Minji's gaze shifted between you and Haerin.

“So, you two are getting close, huh?” she said, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

You felt a pang of guilt but tried to stay calm. “Uh.. Yeah,"

Minji’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more. Instead, she pulled you aside, her voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “I just don’t want to lose you. It feels like you’re drifting away.”

Her confession hit you harder than you expected. You had always valued your friendship with Minji, and the thought of losing her was unsettling. But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the connection you were building with Haerin.

You took a deep breath and looked at Minji, trying to find the right words. “I’m not going anywhere. But things are changing, and I need to figure them out. I hope you understand.”

Minji’s expression softened, and she gave a small nod, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness. “Okay. I get it.”

As you walked back to Haerin, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were becoming more complicated. Yet, with Haerin by your side and Minji’s support, you felt more grounded than you had in a long time.

The journey wasn’t over, and there were still challenges ahead, but you were ready to face them, one step at a time.

In the days that followed, rumors about Haerin started spreading through the school. Students whispered about her past—how she was rumored to have bullied others and earned the nickname ‘liar and snake’ at her old school. The gossip seemed to grow darker with each passing day, and it wasn’t long before you heard it too.

Seonhwa was chatting about the rumors in the cafeteria, and you felt a pang of worry for Haerin. Without thinking, you rushed out to find her, but she was nowhere in sight.

Days turned into weeks, and Haerin still didn’t come to school. You became increasingly concerned, and then, things took a turn for the worse. Your own secrets were exposed.

When you walked into the cafeteria one day, the scene was chaotic. Papers were scattered all over—on the floor, tables, and even the walls. Each paper had your face and personal secrets printed on it. You froze when you saw a paper that said, “father cheated trauma freak,” with your picture on it.

Haerin was the only one you had ever shared that secret with. The betrayal was too much to bear.

As you stood there, feeling a mix of shock and sadness, Minji came over and patted your back. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she said, trying to comfort you. But the pain of the betrayal was overwhelming.

You grabbed some of the papers and crumpled them in your hands, your eyes filling with tears. The cafeteria, usually a lively place, now felt cold and hostile. You couldn’t see the faces of your classmates—they were all a blur as the tears flowed.

Minji noticed how upset you were and tried to offer more comfort. “Y/N, we’ll figure this out. I’m here for you,” she said, her voice filled with concern. But her words barely reached you through the fog of your emotions.

“Why would Haerin do this?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling. “I trusted her.”

Minji looked at you with sympathy. “I don’t know. But we need to find out what happened.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of frustration and determination. The betrayal was deep, and the exposure of your secrets was painful, but you knew you had to confront the situation. The first step was to find Haerin and get some answers.

Weeks had passed since the papers were scattered around the cafeteria. You were still dealing with the aftermath, feeling lost and overwhelmed. Minji remained by your side, offering support and comfort through your darkest moments. Her presence was a constant source of solace, and gradually, you started to notice a shift in your feelings toward her.

One evening, as you sat together, you found the courage to express how much Minji meant to you. “Minji, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “You’ve been amazing through all of this, and I realize that I want to be more than just friends.”

Minji’s eyes widened in surprise, her face lighting up with joy. “Really? You mean it?” she asked, her voice full of excitement.

You nodded, smiling. “Yes. I want us to be together.”

The two of you started dating, and though you were happy with Minji, there was a lingering emptiness. It felt as though something important was missing from your life—a puzzle piece that had yet to be found. You continued with your daily routine as if Haerin had never been part of your life. Yet, the absence of her explanation gnawed at you, leaving you unsettled.

As the days went by, Minji and you grew closer in your relationship, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you needed closure with Haerin. The thoughts of her and the unanswered questions about the rumors lingered in your mind.

One day, while walking through a park, you unexpectedly ran into Haerin. She looked just as surprised to see you. “Y/N,” she said hesitantly, her gaze filled with uncertainty. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Haerin,” you said, your heart pounding. “I need to talk to you. I’ve been feeling like I need to understand what really happened.”

Haerin looked up, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and relief. "... I’m glad you came,” she said softly. “I’ve been avoiding school because I didn’t want to deal with the rumors. They were so painful, and I wanted to stay away from the drama.”

You sat down beside her, listening intently. “I need to believe you, Haerin. The rumors were brutal, and my own secrets were exposed. I can’t understand why someone would do that, especially when I trusted you.”

For a moment, Haerin's eyes widened in surprise, as if she wasn't expecting hearing that your secrets have been exposed. She had no clue, but would you believe her? "W- what...?" she stammered, still in disbelief. But you only stared at her for a brief moment, taking a deep breath to steady the moment.

Haerin’s eyes filled with tears as she continued. “I swear, I didn’t spread those rumors. I don’t know who did, but it wasn't me. I'm as shocked as you when I heard about it. I think someone must have used my name to spread lies. I never meant to hurt you.”

The sincerity in Haerin’s voice gave you pause. You wanted to believe her, but doubts lingered. As you processed her words, another thought crossed your mind: Minji. She knew about your secret, and it seemed too coincidental for her not to be involved.

You listened intently, trying to make sense of her words. Doubt still lingered in your mind, but the thought: Minji had known your secret for a long time. Why would she betray you now?

With a heavy heart, you decided to confront Minji. You arranged to meet her at a quiet café, the tension palpable between you.

“Minji,” you began, struggling to keep your voice steady, “I need to ask you something. Did you have anything to do with the rumors about me and Haerin?”

Minji’s face went pale. She looked down, her hands fidgeting with her cup. It was a brief moment of silence before she spilled everything about what happened—far from what you've expected.

“Y/N, I... I did it,” she admitted quietly, her voice breaking. “I was jealous. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being interested in someone else. I thought that if I could push Haerin away, you’d focus on me.”

The pain of Minji’s confession hit hard. The betrayal felt like a sharp wound. “Why, Minji? Why would you do this? You knew how much this secret meant to me.”

The reason you never talked about your past with just anyone was because you, yourself were insecure of not having the father to lead you like others. And with that being exposed with the reason of this... It was too much.

Minji’s eyes watered with tears. “I’m sorry. I let my jealousy get the best of me. I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you.” As she explained, how Seonhwa was also behind every rumour she made about Haerin and set her up, it was too much.

The revelation was devastating. You realized that the person you had trusted most had betrayed you out of jealousy. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but you knew you had to make a decision.

“I can’t be with you anymore, Minji,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm despite the sadness. “I need to focus on healing and understanding what’s right for me.”

Minji’s tears flowed freely, but you stood up, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. You needed to rebuild your life and find closure with Haerin.

After ending things with Minji, you reached out to Haerin once more. You both started to reconnect, and although it wasn’t easy, you began to rebuild trust. You spent time together, getting to know each other better and working through the past hurts.

Slowly but surely, your bond with Haerin grew stronger. The feelings of emptiness started to fade, replaced by a sense of understanding and companionship. The missing piece of your life began to fall into place, and with patience and openness, you found a new sense of peace and hope for the future.

After everything, rebuilding your relationship with Haerin was slow and delicate, but it felt right. You spent more time together, learning about each other, laughing at the little things, and healing from the wounds left behind by the rumors and betrayal. Each moment with her made you feel like a missing piece of your heart had finally been found.

"So, can you tell me what really happened in your old school?" You asked, taking a sip on your favorite beverage.

Haerin thought for a moment, then nodded. "Well, my mom had to work near here so she decided to transfer me on one of the schools," she explained and you nodded, still slightly surprised that her story was far from the rumours you've heard. "Seonhwa... She was my friend before, but things between us didn't end really well, so maybe she spread those rumours about me absentmindedly,"

She noticed that look on your face, making her giggle—a soft laugh that was infectious. It made you smile, "What? Why are you laughing?" You questioned, although the smile remained on your face.

"Nothing," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, making you feel utterly speechless. Your stomach soon felt as if there were butterflies in it while you felt your face heat up—an emotion you didn't quite normally get. It was as if every time you were with Haerin, you keep discovering a new version of you that would have never thought would even exist.

There were times you and Haerin bumped into Minji in the halls. It was unavoidable at school. Each time, you'd catch her staring from afar, her eyes full of sadness and regret. You couldn’t ignore the heaviness of it all, but you knew in your heart that you had made the right decision. The awkwardness was there, but it didn’t consume you anymore. You had moved on, and slowly, Minji seemed to realize that too.

One day, as you and Haerin walked home from school, a gentle silence fell between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was calming, the kind of silence that comes with being at ease in someone else’s presence. You thought about everything you had been through together, from the initial distrust, the rumors, to now—this peaceful, growing friendship. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real.

As you reached the park, you both sat down on a bench, watching the leaves rustle in the soft breeze. Haerin spoke first, her voice soft but sure.

“I’m glad we’ve come this far. I didn’t think we’d be able to, especially after what happened,” she admitted, glancing at you with a small smile.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotions you couldn’t quite express. It was rare for you to feel this way—this close to someone again. And yet, something deeper lingered. A warmth that had been growing steadily within you.

Suddenly, without thinking, you blurted, “I like you, Haerin. I mean, really like you.”

Your confession hung in the air, a rare moment of vulnerability for you. It wasn’t like you to be the one to confess first, but this time, it felt different—like the right thing to do. Your heart pounded in your chest, but there was a strange relief in finally saying what had been on your mind for weeks.

Haerin blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting you to be the one to confess. A slow, wide smile spread across her face, and she let out a soft laugh. “You really beat me to it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve been wanting to say that too, but I didn’t know how.”

You both chuckled at the awkwardness of the moment, but it only made the confession feel more real, more honest. Haerin reached over and gently took your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion.

“I like you too, Y/N. More than I’ve liked anyone,” she whispered, her voice sincere.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was falling into place. The weight of your past traumas, the scars from Minji’s betrayal, and the confusion of your feelings all seemed to fade in that moment. Sitting there, with Haerin’s hand in yours, you felt whole.

As the days passed, you and Haerin continued to grow closer. It wasn’t always easy, and sometimes the shadows of the past crept up on you, but together, you found a way to move forward. There was laughter—plenty of it—small moments of joy in the chaos of school life, and the undeniable feeling of falling for someone who understood you in ways no one else had.

And while Minji still lingered in the background, her presence no longer held the weight it once did. You couldn’t completely avoid her, but the distance between you both had become bearable. Over time, even she seemed to find a way to move on, though the sting of betrayal would remain with you both for a long time.

In the end, you found something rare—something that went beyond just healing from the past. You found someone who made you feel like yourself again. With Haerin by your side, life was far from perfect, but it was yours, and for the first time, it felt like it was truly beginning.

And now, sitting on a bench with Haerin, giggling at teasing at each other, you felt content and mostly... You felt love. With all problems fading away, while Haerin had that small, shy smile—which made you reminisce on the first day you saw her. Maybe even then, you were already in love with her as it is, you just never found it out yourself until now.

As Haerin held your hand, staring at your eyes like the both of you did back on day one, you couldn't help but lean close to her, cupping her cheek with your other hand while the other was busy holding hers, intertwining fingers with one another.

She leaned into your touch and before you knew it, your face were inches away from hers. "Can I?" You asked, and with a split second-pause, Haerin nodded, her breath hitched upon finally touching your lips.

The kiss wasn't rushed at all—if anything, it was deliberate, passionate, and most importantly... It tasted like love.

a/n: okay, maybe i focused too much on readers pov. well, that's all, luvvies. did you like it? hehe. please like, reblog or follow! love y'all and stay safe. mwaapsss. 💋 xoxo