#girl help....................brain never does anything i asks it to!!!!!!!!!!1

[luridparty]

there are so many things. like in general. 🧠💥

[rememberwren]

A Girl (Not Mine) || 1

Ghost is a little obsessed with Soap and a lot obsessed with Soap's girlfriend--you.

About this: ghoap/fem!reader, suspension of disbelief regarding anything military related is actually necessary for enjoyment, canon-typical trauma for Simon, intrusive thoughts, slut shaming, voyeurism, fingering, accidentally seeing nudes not meant for you, poor writing unless you squint, try squinting. 4k

-

“I’m so glad I got a girl to think of, 

Even though she isn’t mine.”

-

The first time Johnny mentions you, the 141 is fresh from a month-long leave.

Ghost has a love-hate relationship with time spent off duty. He’d like to enjoy it—to do fuck all, to hike through Clayton Vale twice in a day if it suits him, to drink tea for every meal. But all leave does is remind him of the glaring emptiness in his life, the one he usually fills with violence. So he spent the month climbing up the walls and crawling out of his skin, waiting to be called back like a dog brought to heel. 

Here was his comeuppance for craving something to fucking do instead of relaxing the way Price had told him to do. Now they were on their way to San Lorenzo in Ecuador dealing with Ghost’s least favorite flavor of criminal: drug cartels. 

It’s too close to Mexico. Too close to that which he would forget gladly if it didn’t come with the loss of so many valuable skill sets. He’s crawling out of his skin for a whole new reason, watching the water fly by beneath them, deep in memories. 

Ghost takes all those feelings, fears, remembrances and swallows them whole. Lets them sink to a sour, dark place in his belly. He sits tense on the helo, still except for the rise and fall of his chest, his rifle a familiar weight across his knees. Sometimes he has to shut his eyes, swallowing against the rising nausea. 

He only has half an ear on Garrick and Johnny’s conversation beside him, but it is all he needs to follow along. 

“—lass of my own now,” Johnny is saying around a laugh, his accent thick enough to chafe at Ghost’s skin in a way he doesn’t want to examine, one that leaves him feeling raw but not necessarily hurt. “So no more picking up the barflies back in Hereford.”

“She making an honest man out of you, Tav?” 

“Aye, you could say that.” Johnny sounds proud of the fact. It all is so far from anything Simon has experienced in his life that he feels no distant stirring of empathy, not even a muted sense of familiarity in the words. Honest men do not exist. 

Not to mention, Simon’s never had a woman (willingly) and he never will. 

“You love her?” Garrick asks, earnestly interested to hear the answer. Ghost couldn’t care less.

“Aye. There’s something special about her.” 

“What, she’s cool with anal?”

Johnny crows with laughter, and now Ghost does feel something: annoyance, cloying, creeping up his spine like a spider in a web headed for the wiggling maggot of his brain. 

“Will you two ever shut up?” he snaps. “Not a moment’s fucking peace since we boarded.”

“Sorry LT,” Johnny says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Ghost cuts his eyes toward the other man, assessing for honesty. Johnny’s face is too expressive: brows lifted, eyes wide and earnest, mouth tipped into a tiny grimace, like the thought of irritating Ghost gives him real pain. Between the two of them, Ghost can’t help but think that it’s Johnny who needs a mask if he wants to survive in the world. 

Ghost doesn’t have the energy for this. He goes back to watching the scenery pass by. They are over trees now: thick lush jungle, the scent of which he associates with pain—plenty of which was his own. Plenty of which he caused to others. 

“What about you, LT?” Johnny asks, calling out over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Do you have a woman back home?”

Ghost lets his head turn, slow and dangerous. Johnny’s audacity never fails to surprise him. “What do you think, Johnny?”

“Honestly?”��

“Go on, then.”

“You look like if yeh’ve got a woman, she’s probably locked in yer basement.” 

(right where she’d belong.)

Garrick slaps Johnny’s thigh, his face mottled with panic. He hisses under his breath, something like, There are faster ways to die, Tav! Less painful ways, too, Ghost thinks. He fixes Johnny with a dead stare. The silence stretches, growing long and thin and dangerous, like the blade of a knife, until Johnny looks away. 

“Think less about my private life, Sergeant,” he warns him. 

“Not often you tell me to think less, LT.” 

Ghost just grunts, finished with the conversation, returning his unseeing eyes to the trees and slipping back into his own memories. 

-

That should be—well, not the end of it. He expects Johnny to become insufferable about it; that’s just the other man’s way. Still, Ghost had never expected to see you. 

He’s doing paperwork in the rec room, too stifled by the tiny, enclosed space of his office to remain there. Paperwork and debriefing are always his least favorite parts of an op. Give him a gun with which to kill and he will gladly kill; give him a pen with which to write and he spends half the time thinking about burying it in his own eye. Garrick and Johnny are there nearby fucking around on their phones having finished with their easy portion of the work ages ago. 

A phone is what Johnny thrusts beneath Ghost’s nose. It takes all of his mental fortitude not to flinch away from the unexpected action (or, more likely, not to rip Johnny’s arm off and beat him half to death with it). His eyes flicker down to the screen on instinct and—there you are. 

You have one eye squinted shut, your hand up to create a visor against the overbearing sun. The picture shows you from the bust upwards, and Simon sees it for approximately one full second before he grips Johnny’s wrist in a brutal hold and forces the hand and the phone away. 

It’s already too late. He’s committed you to memory. The way your hair sits, its color in the blistering sun. The curve of your lips (fuckable, he thinks against his will) as you give Johnny behind the camera an exasperated smile. The arch of your nose (images now—fingers pinching noses shut, forcing mouths further down his cock just to watch them choke and struggle)—

“Get that out of my face,” he grits out through his teeth. His thoughts won’t stop, not now that the floodgates have been opened, and it makes him feel like a dog backed into a corner, frightened-violence rising up in the back of his throat like bile. 

—the smooth line of your throat (and his hands around it, choking the light from your eyes just to fuck you when you’re soft and pliable and he doesn’t have to listen to you crying and begging)—shut UP!—

“It’s just my girl, sir,” Johnny laughs, his own eyes flickering back down to your image on the phone, like they are drawn to you. Like it is hard to look away. Ghost doesn’t have that problem—he has some  discipline left. “And it’s not as if she’s naked.” 

Ghost grips the pen in his hand so tightly that the plastic shell cracks. He’s barely keeping it together, sick and afraid and horrified and angry that Johnny has done this to him—has done this to his own girl—

His voice is rough when he croaks out: “What makes you think I care to see her, Sergeant?” 

“‘S it wrong to share the most important person in my life with the other most important people in my life?” Johnny says, eyes too guileless to be taken seriously. 

“Share less,” he snaps. 

“Been saying that to me an awful lot lately, sir.” 

“A good Sergeant would take my words to heart.” 

“A good lieutenant would know a futile lesson when it’s biting him in the arse.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow. “Careful, Johnny. As much as I hate paperwork, I’d write you up—gladly.” 

Johnny gapes. “What for?”

Ghost grins without mirth, mask stretching around his features. Even grinning cruelly like this, his face feels unused to any expression that is adjacent to happiness. He swears darkly: “I’ll find a reason.”

It would send anyone else running. Even Garrick looks fearful, though fascinated: the same look a man wears when he’s watching a car crash in progress. But if sense were dynamite, Johnny wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose. Instead, he just flops down on the couch close enough to flutter the pages in Ghost’s lap. Close enough for their knees to brush. 

“Jesus, you’re a tadger today,” Johnny says quietly, boot knocking against Ghost’s, a touch he feels all the way up his leg. “Shove off some of that paperwork on us. What’s the use of being a lieutenant if you can’t lord it over your sergeants?”

“I’m sorry, us?” Garrick asks. 

“I don’t shirk my responsibilities, Johnny,” Ghost says coldly, gathering his papers. His elbow brushes against Johnny’s ribs, the firm, burning warmth of the other man’s body. He jerks away. He’ll take the stifling seclusion of his office, that makeshift coffin, before he subjects himself to any more of this. “You’d do well to follow my example.”

-

Ghost resolutely does not think of you. Not during quiet lazy moments on base, not during the frustration of training recruits, especially not during the eerie calm of missions. You do not cross his mind. 

His dreams are another thing altogether. 

There are the dreams where he hurts and the dreams where he is hurting, and he doesn’t know which are worse. He only knows that they are made worse by your strange presence: your body bent and being broken in by others; you, bent and being broken in by him. He wakes in cold sweats, jaw aching from gritting his teeth in his sleep. 

He hates himself for this last place where he cannot execute control: his subconscious. 

-

“Mail?” Johnny asks cheerfully at the sight of Garrick seated on the bench outside the DFAC, a stack of papers and letters laying on his lap. 

Johnny is sweaty, gray t-shirt clinging to his toned body as he (for once) keeps a companionable silence at Ghost’s side. They have been training recruits all day—work which Ghost considers far beneath his pay grade, but which he can’t refuse when ops are so slow to arrive and when he is so eager (desperate) to keep busy. Ghost lets himself sit heavily on the bench a safe distance away from Garrick, sweat cooling on his own body. 

He’s not ready to be alone yet. 

He’s allowed to do that. To want company. Of all the people on base, Garrick and Johnny (and Price) might be the most tolerable of the lot of them. During the rare moments when the pitiful piece of humanity left inside him craves companionship, this is the least painful method to mainline it. 

He ignores the lack of letters for him. There is no mail for Ghost—there never is. 

Garrick passes Johnny no less than four envelopes. Johnny’s soft smile as he flips through them speaks volumes. Ghost can guess who they’re from: his mother likely, who writes as often as she can. One of his various sisters, surely. Take your pick.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Johnny flip through the letters and settle on one in particular, thicker than the others, tearing it open and tugging the letter out. 

The pictures slip from the folded piece of paper and fall to the ground. 

Johnny dives to grab them, but all it does is bring Garrick’s attention to them more. Even Ghost’s interest is piqued, his dark eyes giving up pretending to watch the recruits limp back to their barracks to shower before dinner and following Johnny’s hasty movements instead, watching the hot flush that crawls up the back of his Sergeant’s neck. 

“What are those?” Garrick asks. 

“No’ a thing.” 

Garrick lights up. He practically tosses his letter to the side. “She sent you pictures?” 

“Possibly,” Johnny says smuggly, the images—old fashioned Polaroids, a nice touch—pressed to his chest. His eyes narrow at the expression on Garrick’s face. “Don’t even think about it, Gaz—!”

Garrick pounces. The two begin grappling, both of their faces split into wide grins. Johnny can only defend himself with one arm, his other protectively clutching the photographs to his bosom. They take each other to the ground and Ghost watches, half interested and half irritated, wondering who will win. 

The pictures go flying—and fate’s invisible bitch of a hand causes them to land at Ghost’s feet. Garrick and Johnny freeze.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, the same way he knows that he’s going to. Ignoring their renewed struggles on the ground as they fight to untangle themselves and stand, he leans down and reaches for the photographs.

The white of the Polaroid’s edges contrast nicely with his dark gloves as he gathers the pictures together like a deck of scattered cards. 

“LT—“

They’re relatively tame. Perhaps you knew the high risk of sending them. In one you are kneeling on a bed amongst a sea of mussed, white sheets, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that you have tugged down between your parted thighs to offer yourself some modesty. It is painful to flip to the next one, but pain calls to Ghost, lures him in. In another you’re wearing some strappy lingerie but still covered artfully by the sheets, both hands covering your eyes, a grin on your face like you are mid laugh. Did Johnny take these photos of you himself? Did a stranger? A friend? Another shows your side profile, back arched, topless, every inch of you curved and poised. 

You’re (a filthy little slut) so fucking pretty. 

“Give ‘em back, LT, please,” Johnny asks gently, like he expects Ghost to tear them to shreds. Or confiscate them. 

Ghost drops the photographs to the bench, wishing he could scrub the images of you from his mind. He shouldn’t have picked them up in the first place. It’s adding fuel to the fire of his broken brain, and he knows that he will pay for it dearly. 

Johnny is talking. “—shy, she’d just die to know you saw.”

“She’ll only know if you tell her, Johnny,” Ghost reminds him. His mouth feels numb, his brain the quiet granted by white noise, a conglomerate of screams. 

Johnny frowns. “Suppose so. You alright?” 

“Since Ghost saw—“ 

“No, Gaz.” 

Ghost watches the two of them enter the building. 

His hand burns, where he has palmed the picture of you topless. He stands and slips the Polaroid into his back pocket. It’s on the tip of his tongue to call out for Johnny and give him the picture back—he could find some excuse, and Johnny would believe him, he knows it—but he doesn’t. He makes for his room, feeling sick with himself. He isn’t hungry. Not for food. 

-

Ghost is compromised. 

The thought replays in his mind over and over again as he drives to Price’s house in Solihull. You and Johnny have crawled beneath his skin and infected him, dug your way into his DNA and are affecting everything from his decision making capabilities to his dreams. He knows that going anywhere where you both will be is a mistake, but it’s one he can’t seem to help hurdling himself toward at high speed. 

Nothing will happen, he tells himself, knuckles white against the steering wheel. He only does what he allows himself to do—no more. The others will be there at least, Garrick and Price and Johnny himself. Physical barriers between him and you. Human meat shields, if necessary. Ghost wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you. (But who would stop him if he tried? Who could?) You are safe, he tells himself. 

He is the last to arrive, dragging his feet up the concrete steps to the two story brick historical home that Price owns. He lets himself in the way that Price told him to and can tell by the eerie silence of the house that everyone is already outside enjoying the well-landscaped yard. Already he sees the evidence of you: a purse (go through it) laid neatly on the dining room table. He sets his keys beside it but does not touch it. 

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to delay the inevitable. Every part of him wants to run, but that’s all he’s ever wanted his whole life. He’s used to it by now, used to being forced to walk toward the thing which terrified him. He squares his shoulders and slides open the patio door, slipping back out into the muggy heat of the afternoon, face mask in place, hood up.  

The landscaping is one of the best features of Price’s house. The privacy fence is tall and appealing to Ghost’s seclusive nature, the lawn neatly clipped. There is a hedgerow running along the southern edge of the fence that is meticulously maintained. Flower beds lined with bricks rest along the house full of geraniums and phlox. The patio is smooth stone with an inlaid fire pit that would be crackling if the weather were any milder. An iron-wrought table sits nearby surrounded by chairs, and seated there are Garrick, Johnny, and Price. 

You are over by the flowers, kneeling in the soft grass, picking phlox just a few shades darker than the sundress you’re wearing, the one that skims your soft thighs. Ghost’s eyes roam over you and away all before your head even turns at the sound of the door opening. 

“LT,” Johnny calls, lighting up. “You made it!” 

“Didn’t think you’d show, Lieutenant,” Garrick says with a smile. 

“As if he’s got something better to be doing than spending time with us,” Johnny crows. 

“Jesus, will you two leave the man alone? Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already regretting coming,” Price says. Ghost inclines his head, grateful for the backup. 

He hears your approach, the soft sound of your flats against the patio stone. You are small (weak) compared to him, craning your head up to look in his eyes. He hates the dark part of his brain that calls you easy prey as he watches you twist the phlox stems between anxious fingers. 

“You must be Simon—” Johnny shakes his head a little, subtle, visible only out of the corner of Ghost’s eye. “—ah—Ghost? I mean—” 

“I don’t care what you call me,” he admits.

“Ghost,” you settle where it is nice and safe. “It’s nice to meet you. John talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise,” Ghost says flatly, hoping you will not mistake it for a compliment. 

Garrick snorts. “Never shuts up about you is more likely.”

There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, so you sit on Johnny’s lap, legs crossed demurely, skirt riding up around your upper thighs. He wonders about the softness of your skin, wonders if his calloused touch would hurt you or if you’re used to Johnny’s by now. He could make it hurt. The thought doesn’t come with any zing of pleasure, just the cold apathy of fact. Has Johnny ever tried that? Has he ever—

Ghost’s gloved hand clenches into a fist, curling around the iron armrest of the chair. He takes a measured breath and holds it until his lungs ache. Those thoughts aren’t his own. They come from the dark part that Roba seeded inside him, that part with creeping vines too deep to root out. That part with thorns. 

He could hurt you, the same way he could hurt anyone, he tells himself. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to. 

He does only what he allows himself to do. No more. No less. 

You and Johnny stand, heading into the house to retrieve a round of drinks for everyone. Ghost watches Johnny’s hand dip low on your back to the curve of your ass as he guides you through the open door, shutting it behind you. 

“Are you alright, Simon?” Price asks around a cigar. “I know meeting new people isn’t exactly in your repertoire.”

“Don’t mother me.”

“Don’t have to be your mother to care about you.”

“Garrick—get lost,” Ghost barks. 

The iron chair legs screech against the stone of the patio as Garrick stands hastily. “Had the same thought, sir. Hedges look lovely this time of year.”

When Garrick is properly out of earshot, pretending to find amusement in the neat hedgerows along the fence line, Ghost says: “I shouldn’t have come. I’m… I— can’t be left alone with her.” 

“With—? Soap’s gal?”

Ghost grits his teeth in shame and nods. 

“Do you know her?” 

Ghost shakes his head in the negative, but it’s not necessarily true. He knows a thousand women just like her, soft and unexpecting. The betrayal always cuts deeper than his cock could reach (estoy preso, somos lo mismo, por favor).

He stands, chair legs dragging against the stone. “This was a mistake. I need to leave.” 

“If you say so,” says Price, knowing better than to argue. “Go around the side. You won’t even have to see them.” 

“My keys are inside. I’ll be quick.” 

“Take care of yourself, Simon,” says Price, his eyes dark and lips downturned as he watches Ghost stalk to the patio door and slip inside. 

-

He braces himself to see you and Johnny in the kitchen, but when the door slides open near-silent, neither of you are anywhere to be seen. Like a fool, he considers himself lucky. Quiet as his namesake, Ghost goes to the table and picks up his keys, palming them. 

That’s when he hears it. The unmistakable muted slap of flesh on flesh. 

(Go look.)

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, but that is his modus operandi these days: failing himself, doing what he isn’t meant to, seeing what is not for his eyes. His feet carry him silently to the door, which is cracked open just wide enough for him to see through into the room. It is a guest bedroom judging by the bland decor, the queen sized bed. Johnny has you sprawled on it, your sundress hitched up around your waist, his fingers buried to the final knuckle inside your cunt. Ghost can hear the way it squelches from all the way outside the door, knows that you must be dripping down Johnny’s wrist. 

“Keep quiet, love,” Johnny pants, one hand over your mouth (he’s not doing it right) to muffle the whines and groans trying to slip past your lips. “Needy little thing, aren’t yeh? Squirming in my lap, making my cock hard right there in front of my Captain, in front of my Lieutenant—“

You whine something back, but it is lost into his palm. 

“Don’t have time to get my cock in you,” Johnny sighs, twisting his fingers inside you, hooking them to press against that tender spot past your pubic bone that has your knees knocking together. He shifts his palm down to grip your neck, your panting breaths filling the room. “But you can bet this dress is coming off as soon as we’re home, do y’hear me?”

“Yessir,” you whisper, and it has Ghost’s cock throbbing. 

This is not for him. He thinks about Johnny’s words from months ago: that you are shy. There’s no chance you would ever want to be seen like this by him. Reaching out, he grips the doorknob and quietly tugs the door closed, til the sound of Johnny’s palm slapping against your clit is muffled behind the wood. 

He takes his keys and is gone before you ever know he was there. 

-

Johnny texts him later that night: 

Why’d you leave early, you numpty? We wanted more time with you. 

Ghost doesn’t respond. He’s too busy spiraling in his own flat, losing control every few minutes and slipping back into that place of pain and blood and dirt. 

An hour later, Johnny ends up adding, My girl wants me to say she was glad she got to meet you. Only Jesus knows why! Ghost definitely doesn’t respond to that. But he doesn’t delete the messages either.

[madridfangirl]

A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 2

(Jude Bellingham blurb)

(Part 1, Part 3, Part 4)

2.6k words. Jude*female reader. Suggestive language.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content, we make shit up

.............................................................................

The cold shower calmed your nerves and cleared your head. The fog lifted from the brain, replaced with fury. 

That fucker, that assholic fucker, really thought he could play you like this? Just waltz into your peaceful space & bend you to his will?

What a sad, little life he lived if that’s the kind of people he was surrounded with. 

Oh, you were gonna show him his place. Real good.

What you did next shocked you. But propriety had gone out of the window the moment he turned this into a battle of wits, dragging you in as an unwilling participant.

Jude was done with Round 2 & was lounging on the deck when he heard his spare phone buzz. He lazily felt around the surface for his waist bag, too blissed out to move. The naked woman lying half on top of him, feeding him grapes was a factor too.

What he saw made him rub his eyes & sit upright. The woman whined at the interruption, which he barely registered.

‘Naa I am busy. Going snorkelling with this one.’ 

Attached was the back image of a man. A big, well built, shirtless, heavily muscular, glossy skinned, wet man. A surfer’s body. 

‘And who is he?’

‘Met him on the beach just now. Said he wanted to show me a few things. Am gonna let him.’

That was a sucker punch to the gut that he didn’t see coming.

‘You are bluffing.’

‘Yeah? Want me to send you a pic after? Don’t think we’ll find a bed but a remote island maybe?’

He called you. Disconnected in the first ring. He called again. Same result.

‘Don’t do this. It’s not safe.’

‘I am a big girl, I can handle myself.’

‘What happened to the no casual sex policy?’

‘A girl can change her mind. CERTAINLY for a guy like that.’

‘Rubbish - he looks OLD.’

‘Word you are looking for is experienced. A MAN, not some little boy fresh out of his teens.’

‘Look, I’ll stop if you stop.’

‘Never asked you to stop. Never asked you for ANYTHING. Infact, I explicitly told you to go with the woman throwing herself at you.’

‘HE WONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU.’

‘I’ll find out soon, won’t I? Hope he likes my new swimsuit.’

Jude resisted the urge to throw his phone in the water. The woman looked at him curiously as he paced around the deck.

Confrontation wasn’t helping his case, so he changed tact.

‘Listen, we got off on a non-ideal note. I can see that. But we can talk this through. I’ll come back right now, yeah? Just give me like 15 mins.’

‘1) The world does not revolve around you 2) Actions have consequences 3) Chris is waiting & I am going to him now. Will be MIA for a few hours. Bye.’

Jude called again. You didn’t pick up. He left one final, desperate message.

‘Please don’t do this. I am sorry. You can get back at me in other ways. Please.’

You smiled victoriously as you looked at his plea. Two please and a sorry in one sentence. Ergo, mission accomplished. Who knew a picture of Chris Hemsworth in your gallery would come in so handy one day. Oh, the benefits of thirsting.

Putting your phone on airplane mode (to let him stew further), you got under the covers, still in your bathrobe, and drifted off to a peaceful afternoon nap.

Complete contradiction to his state.

Jude was struggling to wrap his head around what just happened. And why it was bothering him so much. He stripped to his briefs and jumped in the cool, crystal blue water. To erase the images plaguing his mind. Of you in your swimsuit. Of you and that horny geriatric fucker.

At one point he even looked around the water, trying to look for the snorkelling spots. Then cursed himself for being reduced to that. 

The current was brisk, numbing him enough to think straight. All wasn’t lost. Not yet. He just needed to come up with a better move. A different move. Coz you were different, it had been well established. The rebuttal did bruise his ego, he admitted to himself, but he was still sure he wasn’t wrong in sensing your attraction. It just needed the right nudge to bring you to him.

He emerged from the water, enthused again, and the woman rushed to him, offering to help him de stress & unwind from whatever was bothering him. Jude was never gonna pass up on a quick head in the loo. As he thrusted into her mouth, he found himself wishing it to be you.

If only you had been that easy. But then, the chase won’t be as fun, the anticipation not as deep. Plus he was certain your affections couldn’t be gained from fame, money or expensive gifts. You’d probably throw them in his face if he attempted that. 

He wondered if things would be different if you knew who he was. That there was a different side to him too. An idea struck him then, right at the peak of his orgasm.

You woke up after 3 long blissful hours, stretching your limbs, still burrowed under the covers, and put your phone off airplane mode.

One message from him, from an hour ago.

‘Atleast tell me you are back safely.’

The change in tone did not go unnoticed and you figured this merited a response. 

‘Just got done. Exhausted. Gonna sleep it off now.’

Letting the innuendo hang in the air, you ordered your evening cappuccino & croissant, enjoying them in your private balcony overlooking the waters. And played your favourite music, as you watched the evening sun cast patterns in the sky. Splurging for this room was turning out to be a great decision after all.

Curiosity got the better of you then, and you succumbed to googling him, to know more about this ridiculous/ridiculously handsome creature.

When you looked, you prayed you hadn’t. The guy wasn’t just atrociously hot, but he was many other things. Damn good at his day job (excellence at work was your primary turn-on). Well spoken & articulate (wtf happened to him today then?). Wholesome with his family (your number 2 turn-on). Unbelievably amazing with kids (you could jump from the balcony right now with the number of boxes he was ticking). And just generally affable & affectionate to everyone around.

You scrolled & scrolled through countless reels, & wondered which was the real him. The dickhead he was this morning or this angelic creature loved by all & sundry? Everyone seemed to swear by him. Did you catch him on a bad day then? Or was this a carefully crafted public persona to fool the world?

You kept going back to that one video with kids, which was melting your insides. 

That, and another one with him being abrasive on the pitch, picking up fights. Some would have called it cocky, and it was, but it was also inexplicably hot? Knee-wobbling hot? It was the same cockiness he had this morning but that had put you off. This video, though, was making your head spin. Giving him a power you never wished for him to have over you. And his body, oh god that body, plus the way he carried that attitude. 

You quickly threw the phone away, hoping you weren’t in too deep already. Consciously reminding yourself what an entitled prick he had been and how furious it had made you.

Needing an immediate distraction, you called home & listened to your 4 year old nephew babble for a good 30 mins. And your mom telling you all the news from back home for another 30 mins. 

Dinner was the next distraction. You took your time in picking a delicacy, settled on paella, a glass of wine and put on a comfort movie on Netflix as you enjoyed your dinner in bed. For some reason, you were avoiding going outside.

It was 10 pm, the sun had finally set making it feel like night time. No more messages from him since the last one to check on you. Which was a good thing. Which is what you wanted. Right? 

Yes, of course. Finally you were rid of him. He must be out, doing something, or someone. Far far away from you.

A quick look at his Insta won’t hurt, would it? It would just confirm his whereabouts, so you can finally be at peace, away from him.

One new post. From 2 hours ago. Captioned ‘Making memories’. A bunch of pics from his day - sunbathing at the yacht, lunch with friends, frolicking in the water & sun-set. Carefully avoiding any hint of the women she knew were a part of his entourage. Just the guy friends made it to post, making you roll your eyes loudly.

When you reached the last pic though, you did a double take. For the second time today, the glass nearly dropped from your hands.

The pic had a glass of wine, and a tissue paper next to it. You could tell it was the same tissue they had used to exchange notes - it was in a blurred background, difficult to spot for others but you could make out your handwriting. And his.

Tagged to it was a song - Can’t we start over again.

You questioned your grip on reality as you read the lyrics of the song.

I know I’ve caused you pain.

Took you for granted.

I’ve been such a fool.

Can’t we start over again?

What the holy fuck was this? What in the name of god was he playing at?

Half-mad, half dazed, you quickly dialled his number. It rang & rang for eternity, he picked up on the last ring.

‘Missed me?’

It just hit you that you were hearing his voice for the first time. It was deeper & huskier than you had imagined. But you quickly regained control of the situation.

‘Are you mad? Are you totally completely mad?’

‘Saw the post, huh?’

‘Damn right I did. Seriously, what were you thinking? What if your horde of fans put two & two together? What if people start assembling here to inquire? God, what if people find that waiter? Jude, what did you do?’

You started to hyperventilate, pacing around the room.

‘Ok. Take a deep breath & listen to me, yeah? No one knows we are talking, not even my friends. The waiter I tipped handsomely to forget about what happened. The note is blurred, no one can make out what’s written other than you & me. All others will see is just a glass of wine on a holiday. And a reminiscing song which can be for anyone. Or maybe they’ll think I am drunk. There is zero way to trace it back to you. Heck, even I don’t know your name yet. So relax. I won’t compromise your privacy when you made it clear how important that was to you.’

His soothing voice, coupled with unassailable logic, calmed you instantly. You could almost laugh at how you had overreacted. Almost. You weren’t gonna tell him that.

‘Are you with me?’

‘Umm yeah, guess you are right.’

You could hear music blaring in the background. He must be out partying at some club when you rudely interrupted him. You were about to ask him to go back to what he was doing before he chimed in.

‘So, did you have fun today?’

You rolled your eyes at his roundabout attempt to ask what he really wanted to ask. Well, two can play this game.

‘Oh yeah. Great day, super relaxing, after a long time.’

‘Ended too quickly, no?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, if you were with me, no way we would be done in just 3 hours. No way you would be alone tonight, checking out another man online.’

He had just shown you how you were an amateur in the game he was a pro in. Honestly, you hadn’t even anticipated this line of thought. But clearly he had. In the same way he knew you would check him out online. Damn him, to the moon & back.

‘Told you he looked geriatric. Did he even…?’

‘Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Not another word on this.’

Your breath was laboured by now. What gave you solace was that his was ragged at the other end too. He wasn’t unaffected either. Both were silent for a bit. He broke it eventually. 

‘I meant what I said in the post. Shouldn’t have done what I did. Not to you. Wasn’t really thinking straight.’

‘Not to ANYONE.’

He had the good sense to stay quiet and not point out that it worked with others.

‘Yes. Can we get past it? I feel like I have been rejected enough for one day.’

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling, & he caught the shift in your mood.

‘Maybe.’

Now that was a window he didn’t think he was gonna get. And was extremely pleased with himself for getting here.

‘I’ll take that. Now, you know damn well I want you. And I know you are thinking about me too. Don’t start denying it, that wasn’t a question. Why are you fighting this, baby?’

Again he was cutting straight to the chase. This time though, it didn’t annoy you. It made you nervous, as you twisted & turned in your bed.

‘I told you why.’

You said softly, surprised at the tone of your voice.

‘Let me come over there & change your mind.’

‘I..I don’t know, Jude.’

He gripped a nearby pole harshly at the way his name sounded in your voice. 

‘Tell me, do I make you nervous?’

The accent was thicker now, making him even sexier. Making you bury your head in the pillow.

‘The situation makes me nervous.’

‘But me too?’

A pregnant pause. Then, a faint whisper.

‘Yes.’

‘I won’t do anything you aren’t ready for - trust me. Heck, knowing you, you’d probably kick me out naked if I try anything like that.’

You sighed into the pillow, and had no idea what these sounds were doing to him.

‘Aren’t you curious? Haven’t you pictured us together in bed, naked & wrapped around each other? Coz that’s all I have been doing since morning.’

‘Jude….please..’

‘Think of it as an adventure, yeah? A weekend in Ibiza that both of us would remember. We are wasting precious time, baby girl. Please, just please let me come to you right now & show you a good time.’

He had laid all his cards on the table, and waited for your response. Like it was judgement day.

You breathed heavily into the pillow, as you arrived at your decision.

‘Not tonight.’

‘WHAT?’

‘Not tonight.’

You could hear him breathe raggedly at the other end.

‘So, tomorrow then?’

‘I…don’t know, not yet.’

‘You are seriously gonna leave me hanging like this?’

‘I am sure you can find ways to distract & humour yourself in the meantime.’

More heavy breathing from him.

‘Are you a professional torturer of some kind? If not, you are in the wrong line.’

‘Thanks for the suggestion, I will think about it. Now, go back to your party.’

‘HANG ON. Are you for real?’

‘Very much. Now, be a good boy & let me think, yes? Bye, Jude.’

You blew a kiss into the phone & disconnected it, leaving him squirming & stunned at the other end.

................................................................................................

Hoping and praying this delivered the tension & takedown you all so vociferously wanted :))

There will be a Part 3 and I swear it will have smut 😂

Feel free to drop in your asks / suggestions for the next chapter - I moulded this chapter on the overwhelming sentiment in the asks :)

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Please have your asks open okay so hear me out

Charles Leclerc x Greek ! F1 driver ! Reader

You can choose the brand anything Ferrari because I want it to be like a little rivalry to lovers . Social media au or not . Reader being in f1 more time than Charles or Charles with rookie reader .

Thank you in advance

Hello!! I decided to go with rookie reader, hoping you'll like it❤️🙏

scuderiaferrari We are thrilled to announce a historic moment in Formula 1 as we welcome Y/n Y/l/n to our racing family! 🚀 Introducing Y/n Y/l/n, the first woman to compete in F1 since the iconic Lella Lombardi in 1976, and proudly representing Greece! 🇬🇷 Teaming up with our Charles Leclerc, Y/n brings a fresh wave of skill, determination and passion to the track. Together they'll conquer the 2024 season with the iconic Prancing Horse🐎

view all comments

yourusername I feel extremely honored to become a part of this family❤️

username1 Miss girl has no idea what she signed up for 💀 wishing her all the best tho

username2 A GIRL, GUYS WE FINALLY GOT A GIRL IN F1

username3 I have a bad feeling about this...

↳username1 wtf? care to explain?

username3 By the summer break she'll have hooked up with half the grid

username1 bye I'm not even participating in this conversation, misogynistic brain rot

carlossainz55 Goodluck @/yourusername 💪

↳yourusername Thank you Carlos 🙏

↳username4 Help why does his comment seem kinda salty

username2 wdym salty lol he literally wished her goodluck

username5 I get him tho, a girl stole his seat

username2 what "stealing" are you talking about? his contract expired, they didn't prolong it and went with some fresh blood that happened to be a woman, not to mention you have to be like the best of the best to get into F1, there was def no stealing done

charles_leclerc Exciting times ahead, let's see if you can keep up

↳yourusername Buckle up 🤠

↳username2 now THAT'S what I'd call a salty comment

username5 Charles forgot they're on the same team lol

achi_of_greece Hellenic Hurricane 🌪

↳yourusername I'll never escape from this nickname will I? 🫶

↳username1 NOT Y/N HAVING LITERAL ROYALTY UNDER A POST ABOUT HER

↳username3 Let's see if the hellenic hurricane can keep up with Lighting McQueen

username4 keep up? 🤡 miss girl will beat his ass up

username5 once again, i kindly remind, they are a TEAM!

lewishamilton History in the making

↳yourusername Omg sir Lewis Hamilton I'm gonna cry 🥹

username1 Y/n being a fangirl just like us

username4 she's so real for this frfr

oscarpiastri Finally🥴it was a bit lonely

↳yourusername Hi f2 bestie 🫶

logansargeant What about me

yourusername you know Oscar and I love you!!

f1 A historic day at the Imola Circuit as Y/n Y/l/n, the Hellenic Hurricane, wins the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix! Congratulations to Y/n and the entire Ferrari team for this outstanding performance.

view all comments

yourusername A dream come true honestly 😭🙏

↳carlossainz55 Great job👏

↳lewishamilton So proud

↳username4 Someone explain why the 7 (8)times WC and Charles' ex teammate are more supportive than Charles himself

username2 I think it might be an ego thing? He could be jealous? Personally I think it's Ferrari's fault, they kinda messed up the friendship between CL and CS too at the end

username5 yeah Y/n is definitely the 'favorite child' to Ferrari because she's new and they want to focus more on her or smth

maxverstappen1 Well deserved

↳yourusername THANK YOU MAX

↳username6 Why is Max here and Charles is not😭

username1 A GIRL. IN FERRARI. WINNING IN ITALY. I WASN'T READY FOR THIS

username2 The haters are pretty quiet rn

username4 No cuz I was gonna ask if she found a therapist yet... But she might not need it

username6 Excuse me it's been a few weeks and we get a Y/n win already?? I love it here

landonorris Max Verstappen is screaming crying throwing up

↳maxverstappen1 I'm literally not

landonorris You must admit it was refreshing not having to listen to the Dutch anthem again

oscarpiastri Best rookie fr

↳yourusername I learn from the best (even though you didn't have a win in your rookie year)

oscarpiastri Wdym i didn't, i won sprint in Qatar. Not to mention rookie of the year

yourusername Yeah yeah, stop flexing pookie

logansargeant Go bestie

↳yourusername Can't fvck with these hoes cuz they messy 💅

username7 live laugh love Y/n

username1 the Verstappen curse has ended🙏

↳username3 you know it's probs her first and last victory in F1 right?

username1 I just wonder why is Charles so quiet

charles_leclerc Congrats 👍

↳username7 not Charles commenting after people started to wonder why he didn't say anything 😭

↳yourusername How did you enjoy looking at the back of my car? Oh wait, you couldn't even see it from P8

username1 maybe it was better when Charles didn't comment 💀

username3 if that was how my teammate talks to me I'd be pissed too

username1 if this is angrily my name is Ayrton Senna

username2 pls if he was angry, it was only cuz he's in love with her but can't do anything about it

↳username3 he can, they're both single, if he wanted he would've, but he knows they have to keep it professional

username2 that's why I said he can't do anything, literally. i predict a relationship the moment one of them leaves ferrari (or f1 in general)

username4 dude is so in love it's embarrassing

username5 I just know he's thinking about unholy things

↳username7 angry sex lmao imagine

username6 oh to have someone who'll look at me the same way Charles looks at Y/n

username7 okay so my theory is they're attracted to each other okay? but neither of them can talk about emotions, but they tried to have a talk about it, which turned into an argument cuz both are short tempered pookies

↳username3 this is so delusional 🤡 why would they talk about it in that exact moment?

username7 let a girl fantasize

↳username5 quietly manifesting this to be true

↳username2 I'll never believe in true love if this doesn't turn out to be real

username8 No cuz hear me out guys. The LONGING gaze in the second picture? There is chemistry between them whether they admit it or not

↳username6 I totally see it, that is the stare of a man in love with the woman he's just argued with. Look at him. He doesn't look angry. He looks upset. Why? Because they had this argument and didn't make up. Now he's worried they'll get in the cars and something bad will happen either to him or Y/n and... You can imagine how the rest goes

username3 And i thought the previous person was delulu wtf

username9 I can die happily the day I see CharlesY/n happen

↳username7 be careful what you wish for, I feel like it can happen sooner than we'd expect

username10 I need to know HOW didn't Y/n fold after being looked at like this

username11 My friend went to Monaco for the GP and she has a paddock pass, she told me she overheard Y/n talk to some girl from her team that she liked Charles AND they even had "THE talk"™ (which could mean they did "IT"?), but Y/n can't imagine a relationship with him

↳username3 out of all the things that didn't happen, this didn't happen the most

↳username1 I can see that, they're very similar - competitive, short tempered - each of them is like a ticking bomb alone, so in a romantic relationship they would be truly a nuclear weapon (which doesn't mean I don't want it to happen)

yourusername A great day for some karting 🥴 summer break!

view all comments

username1 did I gaslight myself that hard or she's really in the number 16?

↳username5 nah, I see that too

↳username2 girlie giving us hints, is it soft launching yet?

username2 16 I'M SCREAMING

username4 enemies to lovers?

↳username3 when were they enemies?

username4 well they never seemed very fond of each other

username3 then just say rivals 💀

charles_leclerc You forgot to mention I won this time

↳yourusername first and last time you got a higher place than me

username4 I can see them having "the winner gets to be on top" kinda bets

↳landonorris 👀

username1 LANDO KNOWS SOMETHING

username11 i told yall, there's too much tension between Y/n and Charles to not be AT LEAST fuck buddies

oscarpiastri What's the longest you can go without being on track?

↳yourusername Mate as I'm writing this I'm waiting for a plane home, won't sit behind the wheel for like a week or more 😭

↳username2 Y/n is dedicated to her job

yourusername είσαι η αγάπη μου❤️🤍

view all comments

username1 the red and white hearts?? just saying but they're colors of the Monaco flag

↳username2 and the guy lowkey looks like Charles🤔

username3 looks like Charles? The best you can see is the back of his head

username2 and it looks exactly like Charles' 😌

francisca.cgomes Where credits for the last pic?

↳username4 KIKA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE

↳yourusername Pierre said not to tag either of you 😭 safety reasons or something 🙄

username4 AND PIERRE IS THERE?

username3 Okay, she's in a relationship, y'all can stop shipping Charles with her

↳username5 wdym 💀 this is literally Charles

username3 And y'all say that based on the back of his head, delusional

oscarpiastri @/landonorris and I want an invitation next time

↳yourusername Sorry pookie, it's not for kids

landonorris I'm not a kid

yourusername Then don't act like one

username5 lmao Ferrari had no idea they're getting a sassy queen

username6 Y/n is in love 🥹

↳username2 She's winning, she's in love, what else could a girl want?

username7 Not the soft launch as if we didn't know it's literally her teammate

username1 WHAT.

username2 I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU.

username3 You know it's totally normal for friends to hang out? I'd take it as they finally made up

↳username2 UP OR OUT

↳username4 they totally look like just friends, sure😐

username5 IN HER HOMETOWN 😭 HE MET HER FAMILY

↳username7 I'm super curious how it went. "Mom, dad, this is Charles my teammate, I hate his guts. Oh, and we're also lovers"

username6 So where is the person who said they can die happily when CharlesY/n turns out to be real?

↳username2 dead probs lmao

username7 The power couple we needed 😭

username8 imagine their PR team lurking onto gossip pages seeing this

↳username1 I know FOR A FACT that the pr people do look at the gossip accounts

username9 Y'all remember how once someone said Y/n will hook up with half the grid? Staring with the teammate is easy, let's see who'll be next

↳username3 Yeah, I'm so surprised it didn't happen earlier

↳username2 stay mad lol Y/n is living her best life with the man she loves

username5 THIS and it doesn't matter that they met through being on the same team

username6 They knew each other before tho! Y/n used to be friends with Arthur, so she def met Charles in the past

username3 Oh so she tried to get with Arthur but because it didn't work out she went for Charles?

username6 That's literally not what I said. She was friends with Arthur. FRIENDS

username3 You know there's no such thing as friendship between a man and a woman?

username6 look at who is delulu now 🤡 I'm not having this conversation

charles_leclerc Partners on and off the track

view all comments

username1 Man literally said fuck a soft launch 😭

↳username2 as he should! we've been dying for them to announce it

yourusername Je t'aime 🩷

↳charles_leclerc Je t'aime avec tes défauts et tes qualités

yourusername EXCUSE ME

yourusername DO YOU THINK I CANT USE TRANSLATOR?

yourusername WHAT "DÉFAUTS" YOU MEAN? I HAVE NO DÉFAUTS

charles_leclerc That's adorable ❤️

pierregasly Remind me, who took the first photo? 🤔

↳yourusername Kika did 🫶 @/francisca.cgomes

francisca.cgomes First and foremost I am the biggest CharlesY/n fan

pierregasly But you took the pic with my phone, I am the author just as much 🙄

francisca.cgomes No❤️

landonorris OH

landonorris I thought you won't have the balls to hard launch

↳yourusername The balls are there indeed

yourusername And more

landonorris EWWWW TMI

yourusername 😐

landonorris exactly my face rn

oscarpiastri So that's why Lando and I weren't invited

↳yourusername It's a couples trip 🤷‍♀️ there wasn't space for the Aussie and his emotional support extrovert

oscarpiastri fuck Lando, what about the Aussie and his GIRLFRIEND?

oscarpiastri Because I do have a girlfriend, you know?

landonorris HEY that's mean

logansargeant I can't say I didn't see it coming

↳username1 We all did, Logan

↳yourusername You were literally the first person I told about my crush on Charles...

logansargeant But who said I believed it would work out?

oscarpiastri HE was the first to know?

yourusername And you were the first to know about the night Charles spent in my hotel room in Monaco

charles_leclerc You talk to them about these things, chérie?

yourusername Don't act like you didn't run to Lando to tell him all about it on the next day

username4 So the theories were real after all, the spicy night in Y/n's hotel room was the cause of their argument

↳username3 She didn't say that...

username4 But it's obvious. Look - the night happened, they felt weird about it and boom there goes the argument. It makes a lot of sense

username5 However it happened, I'm glad it happened

username6 What happens now? Are they even allowed to be a couple?

↳username7 wdym allowed lol it's better than if they were from different teams, they'd have to sign NDA or something

username6 Isn't the team worried they'll distract each other or something?

username7 At least they'll be traumatized together

scuderiaferrari 🇬🇷❤️🇲🇨

↳username6 The team is indeed not worried

yourusername The benefits of having birthday during the summer break

view all comments

username1 I love the Y/n and Charles/Kika and Pierre friend group

↳username2 they're everything I want fr

username4 okay but I NEED to know whose idea the cake was

↳username2 I would expect it from Logan and Oscar, honestly, but they weren't in Greece with them

↳yourusername ofc it was Kika's idea!!

francisca.cgomes and I'm proud of it

logansargeant It hurts to know you're making new friends 🙄

↳yourusername I figured I needed some girl friend after spending so much time with you and Oscar 🙄

logansargeant Do you even remember about us anymore?

oscarpiastri I bet 10 of your american dollars that she doesn't

yourusername how could I forget? You two still haunt me in my nightmares 🫶

username1 lmao Charles wakes up screaming box box and Y/n wakes up screaming what's a kilometer and shoe thongs 😭

yourusername that's an accurate description

charles_leclerc I swear I once heard you talk in your sleep something about running a mile in shoe thongs

yourusername And I don't even know how long a mile is, so you can only imagine how terrifying that was

lewishamilton Happy birthday to my favorite rookie

↳yourusername Every time you appear in my comment section I cry a little

lewishamilton The good tears I hope?

yourusername happiness tears of course😭

username5 Do y'all think Charles is jealous seeing his gf interact with THE Lewis Hamilton?

↳username2 No? Why? Lewis is Y/n's idol so obviously she's gonna fangirl a lil

username6 Y/n being a WAG and a driver at the same time, iconic

username7 My fav wag duo for real

[sturniolo-rat]

The High Life Part 1

Matt Sturniolo X Stoner!Reader

Part 2

A/N: because I need a babysitter when I’m high and this is generally how it goes.

Contains: fluff💕, daddy k!nk

TW: drug use

In which Matt babysits a high Y/N and she becomes submissive and breedable😏

“Matt, would you still love me if I was a worm?” Y/N asks, looking at him through a cloud of smoke.

He looks up from his game “You’re high as shit, but yes, I would, the fuck”? She’s always asking dumbass questions when she smokes. Matt doesn’t smoke himself, but he likes to be around to watch Y/N. Not only does she look really hot, but she becomes so baby, and he wants to take care of her. 

“Okay, but what would you do?” She looks up at him expectantly, looking for a very specific answer.

He turns in his chair. “I’d put you somewhere safe and find the wizard bastard that did this to you.”

Y/N shakes her head furiously. “No, there’s no wizard. The universe just took my human form back and decided I was actually supposed to be a worm.” She says, pulling the rolling tray onto her lap as she sits on the bed facing him crisscross applesauce.

“Alright, easy.” He claps his hands. I got this.” She pauses grinding her weed to lean in. This time, she’s hoping for a more pleasing answer. “I’m going outside every day, rain or shine, even if it’s a hurricane, and I’m screaming up at the sky and demanding the universe turn you back.”

Wrong again. “Oh, so you only care for my human body and not my worm body?” she says indignantly as she struggles to roll her joint.

He grabs her face and kisses her forehead. “Baby, please, you already know you’d have a 6-foot terrarium in our room” he takes her rolling tray off of her and starts fixing her shitty rolling. “but I know you’d be sad cuz you wouldn’t be able to talk. Hence my screaming at the universe.” He licks the end of the rolling paper and seals the joint up. “It’s all for you, my love.” And he holds the perfectly rolled joint out. He learned to roll for her recently. He can only roll joints thought because blunts are for losers, and Y/N doesn’t fuck with tobacco. 

She takes it from him, completely shocked. “Well,, I guess that’s nice of you?” Referring to his hypothetical screaming and his unhypothetical miracle joint rolling skills. “Since when did you know how to do anything even remotely related to drugs?” 

“Last week. I thought I would help my baby out in all her endeavors.” He cracks a smile, knowing he’s thoroughly impressed her. 

She spaces out for a few seconds, then Says, “Could I come outside sometimes?”

He nods, instantly, knowing that her brain just did a factory reset, and is talking about the worm hypothetical again. “Mhmm, I’d put you in my shirt pocket, and we’d go on dates, and I’d get you plates of dirt to eat.” This was not the answer she was looking for because it was so much better, and just so perfectly Matt.

“You’re amazing.”

He pats her head. “I’ll go get you some snacks and water, Lovie.” He leaves, and Y/N feels so comfy and loved. 

“Get my special cup, please!” she yells to the kitchen. The cup in question is a 40-oz stainless steel tumbler that says Daddy’s Girl. Matt knows she’s in subspace. 

When he comes back to the room, Y/N is all cuddled up in bed with the stuffed shark he won at the fair last month. He’s got her special cup in hand and his arms full of chips. He throws them all on the bed and hands over the cup. “Got your cuppy, Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” he never liked being called Daddy before he met Y/N. She just brings something out in him. When she’s around, he just wants to take care of her in every conceivable way. 

“Anything for you, Baby.” He sits beside her on the bed, and she lies her head on his lap. Matt feeds her chips as they watch Family Guy. It’s amusing watching tv with Y/N when she’s high because she can’t follow the plot story shit. He likes asking her what she thinks is happening and listening to her crazy, convoluted answers. 

Somehow, over the course of a couple of hours Y/N ends up sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. She cranes her neck and stares up at him for a while. His lips look so soft, and she can’t look away. Matt notices this and tries to focus her back on the show. “So, what do you think Brian and Stevie are up to right now?”

“D’know.” She shrugs and continues to look at him.

“Do you need something, baby?” He asks.

“Mhmm,” she said, shaking her head and biting her lip.

Matt knows exactly where she’s going with this. “What do you need,

Love. You have to tell me before I can help you.”

“I need you, Daddy.” with that, she opens up a whole new can of worms.

Smutty part 2

Masterlist

Taglist

[callmeby-mylastname]

who’s she?

summary- after your fallout with tara you find comfort in the thing you hated most about her, alcohol.

warnings- some sweet angst, meaningless one night stands and some swears. possible grammar n spelling errors

A/N- thank you anon for the suggestion i hope it lived up to your standards. sorry this took so long i have been so damn busy lately but enjoy🙏

part 1

it had been 3 months since your ‘break up’ with tara and to be completely honest you were doing terrible.

you never liked it when tara drank, she became someone you didn’t recognise.

and now you’re here, you barely recognise yourself. drinking copious amounts of liquor sleeping with a new random girl.

if you kept yourslef sober enough you’d be disgusted by the reputation you had acquitted, the ‘life of the party’ the fuck boy who gets with pretty girls and leaves before they wake up. it didn’t mean anything to you it truly didn’t it clearly meant nothing to the hookups. you both wanted a sexual realsie and that’s what you got.

doing anything to distract yourself from losing the one thing that made your life bright.

Tara had heard of your new found reputation along with glaring looking at you drunkly go upstairs with a girl.

she felt guilty, real guilty. yet too stubborn to talk to you. was she scared you’d end up the way amber did? yeah. did she love you? yeah. was her fear a reasonable excuse to hurt you the way she did? not particularly.

but yet here she is, sat in her apartment wallowing in self pity, contemplating texting you.

she’d spend her nights feeling guilty debating to reach out but never truly had the courage. she hears a ping from her phone and checks the message.

nerdymeeks: have u heard of Y/Ns new girl?

Tgiz: wait what? like gf??

nerdymeeks: i think so? they’ve been seen hanging out at their place couple times

nerdymeeks: told u. u should’ve stopped being stubborn n got ur girl back before it was too late

well if she had a reason to text it was definitely now, so with the surge of confidence that had absolutely nothing to do with the raging jealousy she clicked your contact and let it ring.

“sorry the person you’re trying to contact does not exist” and with that the call ended.

tara was left in disbelief, you blocked her? you got some new girl and blocked her? that made a already very jealous mad tara exceptionally more angry

she didn’t particularly have the right to but she still was.

grabbing her shoes and keys, she was going to confront you, luckily for her you’re a couple doors away. it’s honestly shocking you two haven’t seen eachother since the fallout.

and with three knocks, she was stood at the door left with silince. she raised her fist to knock once more when a beautiful black haird girl opened the door.

logically she was stunning, but to tara? you could do better. and it isn’t at all jealousy

“can i help you?” the girl at the door way asked, recovering from the momentary stun tara replied.

“i-uh. i’m here for Y/N?”

“tara?” your voice rang out behind this new mysterious girl.

this was the first time her eyes met yours after THAT. you looked good, better than you did atleast.

but she would hate to admit how she missed the way her eyes instantly found yours wherever you were.

“we need to talk” tara replied to you

you were stuck, on one side you never wanted to see her again but that little part of ur brain was nagging at you to just hear her out.

and so you went for the latter. “okay”

tara looked back at the girl guarding the entrance to your apartment, she reluctantly moved aside and headed towards your bedroom.

“if you need me Y/N i’ll be right here” and with that she entered the room closing the door.

“so are you and broody over there..together?” she was trying to keep composer (it didn’t work)

“what do you care?” you replied bitterly

“i don’t. i-just..wondering” that composer is definitely working very well. “what do you want tara?” you were getting impatient now

“why did you block me?” she asked getting straight to the point

“it’s not like we were talking” you replied. she really had the nerve to throw you to the cerb then comd to your apartment and ask why you had blocked her?

“maybe because you were too busy getting drunk” she folded her arms across her chest.

“oh? so you’re getting judgemental now?” you walked closer to her.

“i have never once judged you, and now you’re judging me for something you’ve done?”

you were face to face with her now. you were a couple inches taller than tara, so you were looking down on her.

she would be lying if she said seeing you mad wasn’t atleast a little bit attractive.

“i had my reasons for what i did” she stated getting louder now.

“and i didn’t?” you were shouting now, both arguing with one an other.

“we were simply fucking Y/N-“ she started “No!” you cut her off. “don’t even act like what we were doing was ‘just fucking’. i loved you and you know damn well you liked me more than just some side bitch-“

it was her turn to intrupt you now “you loved me?” the tension was softer now.

“of course i did tara? you were everything i ever wanted” you paused

“and now i have everything i need” you looked towards the bedroom door, tara following your line of sight.

she felt the tears in her eyes, but she be dammed if she let you see them fall.

the soft “oh” fell from her lips “i see, well i’ll leave you two to it then” and before you could say more she turned around and left, leaving you stood in your apartment once more.

this time you had something, someone to go to. someone worth it.

tag list

@ortegalvr

@tropicals-things

@jusnough

[boundbyeclipse]

Okay so I saw your prompt list and I was wondering if you’d be able to write prompt 1 from angst with prompt 4 from smut for Kai?? I would literally DIE if it’s possible + your writing I literally amazing

hi, precious! oh of course I can, you request - I deliver! ps. my heart is happy, thank you so so much, it means a lot to me 🥺 ilysm ♡

tag : jealous!reader, vampire!reader, female!reader, rough!Kai, boyfriend!Kai, mentions of Bonnie

prompts are here.

♠️ 1. “Just go hang out with Person C. You’ve gotten good at that”

⛓️ 4. “If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to stop”

It wasn’t just a little argument. It wasn’t anything close to a small fight. You actually had rage exploding out of you. You were so fed up with seeing how Kai talks to Bonnie, how he flashes her a smile, how much time he spends with her and how he just cannot stop talking about her in general. It annoyed the hell out of you to the point you grew angry, jealous and wanted to never see him again.

You stood in front of him behind the school building, face to face, no people in sight as it was late at night. It was finally time to show him you were fed up with everything he’s been doing.

“I am so sick and tired of this bullshit, Kai. I’m right. Here. And yet you aren’t listening to me!”

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down. You’re quite literally an ignited match right now, you’re burning with all this anger” he raises his hands in the air, taking a step forward, but you take a step back.

“Yes, yes I am! Tell me, is she better than me? Is she prettier? Does she make you feel alive? What is it, Malachai?”

The name makes him scrunch his nose, but it’s just because you’re both fighting. Under any other condition, he always loves it. And you are the only person he accepts it from. If anyone else says it, he gets irritated and mad.

“What are you even talking about right now? There’s nothing going on, I have no interest in her, my eyes are all on you”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Just go hang out with Bonnie. You’ve gotten good at that”

Using your vamp-speed you run into the building, getting inside the gym and sitting down on the bottom of the stairs, burying your face in your palms as you tried to calm down. Then you began to regret starting this fight with him. Maybe you’re just overreacting, imagining what isn’t there because you’re so in love with Kai, that the simplest things make you jealous. Like a few weeks ago when he was talking to another girl who he only needed help from to find some sort of a spell. They only spoke, exchanged smiles, that’s it. And you still found yourself grinding your teeth at the sight. Maybe you really are overreacting.

As you stare at the floor while fiddling your fingers, the door opens and closes - Kai has found you.

“Are you really going to throw another tantrum at me?” he asks, walking towards you in quick steps, stopping right in front of you. You couldn’t bear it, so you stood up, bodies so close to each other that you felt one another’s breaths on your faces.

“Kai, I just cannot stand how you act around her. I feel left out, like I’m never here, like I don’t exist sometimes. And yes, maybe it’s my stupid brain that makes me think this way, act this way, maybe it’s too much. So tell me, what the hell is going on so I know. I don’t want to hurt myself or you”

He moves even closer to you, and you didn’t think it was even possible to be this close to him. Not during a fight. A heavy sigh leaves his lips, heartbeat intense as he cannot help but feel the tension between you both. He’s so angry that you’re like this, so angry that he wants to prove to you that all he wants is you.

“You have always trusted me. So why can’t you trust me now when I say there is nothing between me and Bonnie? Why?”

“Maybe because I need you to prove it” your lower lip trembled as you inhaled the scent of his cologne, mixed with the smell of leather of his jacket. It was some sort of a distraction, you could feel lust beginning to wash over your body, and Kai was able to notice. He’s known you long enough to know your body language. He knew when you were sad, when you felt shy, nervous, bothered. Even sexually frustrated. And that was the case right now.

Especially the way you kept looking at his lips, even if that lasted for a second.

He knew you wanted to taste him. He knew you wanted him to yourself and yourself only. It was a tad bit too easy to read you. But he wanted to get it out from you, so he did not make any moves.

“You know damn well that I can see it in your eyes - you cannot keep it together. From head to toe you’re shaking with desire, I can tell that my cologne is driving you insane. Your heart is racing a thousand miles per hour,” he teased you with words, his voice husky and inviting, “so go ahead, kiss me. Be jealous. Be overprotective”

You bit your lip, blood boiling as you snapped at him, voice silvery.

“If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to stop”

Kai grins, leaning closer to your ear to whisper.

“So kiss me”

Your temper is short lived as you grab his face, landing your warm lips on his, not wasting any time to slip your tongue in his mouth. With your vamp-speed you end up in the hall, Kai pressing you against the lockers, his cold fingertips touching your skin under your shirt. A filthy moan escaping from you as he picks you up, his large hands firmly holding the back of your thighs.

In a second, you’re in a classroom, laid on the desk, Kai kissing and sucking your neck, earning small whimpers from you. He pushes your skirt up, all over you as he grinds himself against your heated core. His jeans tighten within seconds, becoming more and more unbearable as he continues to bite your collarbone. His hands squeeze your hips as he groans against your skin as he cannot contain himself no more.

Kai unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down, letting his length spring against his stomach, rock hard and throbbing with need.

“You want me to prove myself to you, hm?” he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer, your thighs hugging his waist as he lines himself at your clothed entrance.

“Y-yes” you moan eagerly, waiting for his next move.

“I’ll make sure the whole town hears you, and I’ll leave you limping, everyone will be jealous of YOU, sweetheart”

The pads of his fingers ghost over your underwear, suddenly pulling it away as he enters you without a warning. You gasp and grab the sides of the desk, your insides pulsing with each thrust. He’s almost too big for you to take, but you love the way he stretches you out. You buck your hips against him, but Kai presses you down as his hands hold you down by your hip bones, fingers bruising the skin.

“Ma-Malachai” you cry out.

“Don’t you move. You brought this upon yourself. Now take it”

His thrusts become rougher and deeper, one hand reaching for your throat, squeezing the sides as he grunts from above you. The table underneath you shakes, sliding across the floor, all the papers and pencils falling down as Kai buried himself deeply in you. But he couldn’t care less about that. He was focused on you.

Your leg begins to cramp, and you grab his wrist, squeezing it and tapping it.

But Kai wasn’t going to stop. He pulled out, lifting you up and flipping you around, your ass on full display for him. He grabs one leg of yours, lifting it up so he has better access to your dripping folds. In a second he’s back inside of you, now leaning over you as he has his arm around your throat, his low and smoky moans heard in your ear. His other hand is holding your leg, hips slamming against you with no mercy.

Your eyes rolled back from the ecstasy he’s put you in, his name leaving your mouth in loud cries, echoing through the whole building. He feels so good that tears fall from your eyes, legs shaking and torso jolting as his tip hits the right spot. You can sense your high coming, your core pulsing and walls tightening around his length.

“Come on, love, hold on a little longer. You’re not cumming until I do” he warns.

His command makes you choke on your words, voice barely coming out with a little “yes”. Kai smirks at your attempt to reply, finding it hot that you’re so affected by him.

Kai pulls out again, lifting you up and sitting you down on the wooden desk, one hand wrapped around your waist as his other one holds you by the back of your neck. He gifts you a sloppy but passionate kiss, biting your lip in the process. You moan his name again, letting him know that there is no possibility you’ll last any longer. Knowing he’s almost done too, he buries his face in the crook of your neck while his hand reaches to squeeze your breast, kneading the hard nipple.

The classroom is soon filled with both of your moans as you explode, cumming around his length, black dots in your vision, Kai spilling himself inside you. Both of you catch your breaths, hugging for some time before fixing yourselves.

“Have I proven myself?” he asks, throwing on his jacket.

“If you’ll take me home and make me a bath with bubbles, mission will be accomplished”

Kai shakes his head, chuckling at you as he unexpectedly picks you up, throws you over his shoulder and carries you out of the school.

“This woman, tsk tsk tsk” he clicks his tongue and smacks your butt as he holds you tight, not letting you down until you’re finally back at his house.

[gomapda]

sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 2)

this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.

side A found here! | side B (part 1) found here!

author's note:

part two of side b!

the final installment.

it's been a long journey to get here, and any messages or words i read in the tags of the reblogs were a source of comfort for me during these times. i'm glad that my words resonated with even just one of you.

and of course, thank you for being here.

✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

──────────────────

“Noona, I need help.”

Immediately, the older girl closed the book she was reading, a young adult romance novel and turned her attention to him. “You never ask for my help. What’s going on?”

“I… I like Y/N.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Jihoon balked. “What? Does everyone know this already?”

“Y/N doesn’t.”

He groaned loudly.

“Are you finally wanting to tell her?”

“I mean, yeah. I—I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I got just the thing for you, Jihoonie.”

Jihoon spent his time trying to come up with some elaborate and dramatic confession (per the advice of his noona). They sat in cafes, picking out different foods that the two of them knew you’d enjoy, scoping out different restaurants, going to the library and her handing him too many romance novels.

After a few weeks, “Noona, you sure this is going to work?”

“Nope.”

“What?! Then why am I doing this?”

“I was just curious to see how much you were willing to do for her. She deserves nothing less than the best, you know,” the girl grinned, now revealing her mischievous side, one that he has never seen before. “Jihoon, you really think that she’s going to want anything that’s a grand gesture?”

“Well. No, but I thought you would know her—”

“Jihoonie, there’s no one that knows her better than you, I think. You probably know her and see her for how she really is. More than she can see herself. All you have to do is just tell her the truth. That’s it.”

“…this was a waste of time.”

She hummed. “Hm, nothing came up for you?”

“What do you mean?”

He could see that she was fidgeting with her fingers. She let out a nervous laugh as she said, “I actually wanted to see whether you still liked me. Whether spending time with me was going to change your mind. Not that I wanted it to! But I didn’t want you to be wishy-washy. She needs stability. She’s already chaotic on her own.”

“You knew I liked you?”

“Just a tiny bit.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Would you have given me a chance?”

“Would you have tried?”

The two of them sat there for a moment, mulling over the weight of the words said between them. But they both knew that there was someone else in their lives who mattered more, who they truly yearned for. If Jihoon and his noona ever pursued something, it would’ve just been them trying to find comfort in each other because they couldn’t have who they wished for. They would’ve tried to shape each other to fit the missing puzzle piece, losing the essence of themselves.

Jihoon and his noona were only mere reflections of who they actually wanted, the illusion created because of how much time was spent together. And that image would’ve faded fast.

“No, I don’t think I would have.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Good luck with him.”

“Yeah… good luck with her. It’ll work out.”

──────────────────

Plenty of people could say that his noona was childish, that she should have picked another route to go down. That it all could’ve been left unsaid. But Jihoon was grateful for her choice to do what she did. Because you didn’t deserve that “what if?”. Neither did he. You both needed to be sure.

And he felt it, walking into the restaurant.

He immediately recognized you, even with your head down. He was so used to seeing you from afar that this was a sight that was unfortunately so familiar to him. He walked forward in hopes of closing the distance between the two of you.

“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin said, frantically.

Jihoon held back his laughter, the sight of his hyung flustered a rare occurrence. “Hey, hyung.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”

He could see that her eyes were screaming: save us. Jihoon wondered if he’d be able to. “Hi, noona.”

Ah, there you went.

Your eyes finally met his.

God, so beautiful.

“Hey, firefly.”

“Holy fuck.”

Jihoon was startled. Since when did you curse? And the fuck word too? But it must be a new development considering the other two were making a huge commotion over it. But even in the midst of chastising, you didn’t break eye contact.

“It’s been a while.”

You blinked. “Um. Yes.”

He couldn’t help but smile. This was happening.

His brilliant and warm and fiery sun.

The reason behind why his own light exists.

His guide, his inspiration, his hope.

His firefly.

Close enough to reach out and catch.

But not quite yet.

“So, are you all done eating?”

“No, not even close! Only ordered one pajeon, but feel free to order anything that you want! Oppa will be covering,” his noona responded as she motioned for him to take the seat next to you. He did and immediately felt you tense up beside him. Jihoon mentally cursed at himself. He should’ve asked.

He decided to lean back in his chair to try to mimic the body language he hoped from you: relaxed. “Hyung’s the best.”

“One day, I’ll make you spend that idol money of yours.”

“Alright, it’s a deal.”

You must have recovered from your shock, since you piped up with a, “Wait. Shouldn’t you be careful about eating out? What if someone sees you here? Couldn’t something happen?”

Aw, you were worried for him. “This is a restaurant that’s frequented by SEVENTEEN. This specific table is so far removed in the corner that it’d be hard to get a good look at my face, especially since my back’s to them.”

You looked around and scanned the area, probably noticing the boisterous environment of hweshiks overpowering the casual dining you were partaking in. “Hm. Okay…”

“You worried about me?”

“No, I’m worried I’m going to end up in Dispatch with message requests from sasaeng fans.”

Jihoon felt the color drain from his face. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being here—”

You immediately shook your head. “That was a joke, I guess it was too serious of a reality for it to seem like one. Jihoon, thanks, really. But I’m scary good at ignoring people. Uh… I’m… I’m glad that you’re here. Seriously.” You paused for a moment, probably noticing the tension that he was too aware of. “Because we’re with two weakass eaters so it’s up to us to finish the job. Will you join me on our noble mission?”

He snorted out a ‘yes’ and the table laughed. Your cousin brought up a time where you were crying because you hated wasting food but the dish was too spicy but you were too stubborn to stop eating. You quickly reminded him that he was the one who tapped out first and left a 9-year-old to solve the issue (“Wouldn’t have been a problem for me if you didn’t create one, oppa!”). The four of you spent more time catching up than thinking about what to order until you were all brought back into the reality that you were at a restaurant and ordered nothing but a pajeon and drinks.

The older two let you and Jihoon decide, as you were both pickier eaters than they were. Once the food arrived, you fell into a rhythm of years’ practice. You pushed your portion of fish and beef onto his plate and he pushed his portion of bean sprouts and japchae onto yours. You both split the pork belly serving evenly between the two of you.

His arm would (accidentally) brush against yours but none of the tension remained from earlier. You didn’t retract, you didn’t run away. In fact, you poked his arm for his attention midway in the conversation and he never thought such a small thing could evoke such happiness.

──────────────────

Physical touch was never something that Jihoon craved. In fact, in most cases, he felt negatively towards it. So, the experience of being touch-starved was not something he knew anything about.

That is, until you were gone for two weeks at an academic competition.

Why the hell was an academic competition half a month? And during summer break? What did they expect middle schoolers to do? Solve world hunger with pi? (The number, not the food.)

You were spending your school vacation for the sake of more school.

What a stupid concept.

And you were on the same team as Baek Yunho, the star player of the baseball team and chemistry league. Jihoon saw the way that Yunho would try to come up to you after a game, but you only ever made a beeline towards Jihoon.

He didn’t realize just how much the two of you gravitated towards each other. Between class periods, he’d pinch your nose or flick your forehead or you would attempt to bring him to his knees by pushing your own into the back of his and fail miserably and he would roundhouse kick you in response. If the two of you had the time, you would go over to his house and dig your toes into his ribcage when he totally owned you during a game of Super Smash Bros. And during the summer, usually, you would be sprawled over him, back to back, as he would watch anime or play games on his phone and you would read your summer reading list.

But normal people wouldn’t consider that physical touch.

And yet here he was, genuinely touch-starved, because you were in Daegu with a whole seven days left.

He grumbled under his breath. Another day has gone by without seeing Baek Yunho during practice which meant another day that you were gone. Something that occupied his mind, as he opened the door to his bedroom, swinging his baseball bag onto his bed.

And he heard a loud, “ow!”

He saw you rubbing your knee on his bed, with a pout on your face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

That’s one way to say he missed you.

“I came back from my competition today to apparently get assaulted by my best friend.”

“I thought it was two weeks long.”

“The whole thing is, but I opted out of the award ceremony. Plus, I only competed in the writing and foreign language portion because that’s all they needed me for, which all happened in the first week.”

Jihoon’s mind didn’t catch up with his body as he reached for you. You yelped and threw a pillow at him, “Ew. No, you just got back from practice and you’re sweaty!”

“Firefly, you’re missing out on a rare opportunity.”

You paused for a moment, possibly recalling all the times he’s rejected a hug from you and realizing this indeed was very rare. “Can you at least wipe off your sweat?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jihoon snickered.

It was now a competition to see who would be the faster one, you rushing for the door or his arms. And of course, the athlete that he is, Jihoon won.

“You smell like the sun! Stop!”

He decidedly rubbed his neck into the shoulder of your shirt and you did your best to wiggle away, but failed. Your look of disdain was met with Jihoon’s satisfied one. “Lee Jihoon, you’re the worst.”

“I’m glad my punching bag is back.”

You pushed his hair back only to immediately retract. “Ugh! How does so much sweat just come out of you?”

“Does it matter when I have a towel right here?”

You pinched his ear as he pushed his sweaty forehead against the other shoulder of your shirt. You burst into a fit of giggles when he found your ticklish spot in the middle of your thigh, but soon enough, your ankle found purchase around his and pushed him onto the ground as you clambered away and into his closet, probably to find a shirt to change into.

He was left there on his bedroom floor, listening to your ramblings about his sweat, almost deliriously happy.

He was satisfied, no longer a starving man.

──────────────────

After the food was finished (thanks to the two of you), the four of you walked out of the restaurant, the couple saying they were so full they wanted to walk it off on the way to their hotel. They offered for the two of you to join them but you declined, saying the hotel was in the opposite direction of your home.

Your cousin felt uneasy leaving you to walk home on your own. But you pointed at Jihoon with your thumb and said, “Jihoonie can walk me home, if you’re so worried. But even if he can’t, I’ve lived here long enough. This isn’t anything new.”

As if your cousin completely ignored the latter half of what you said, he glanced at Jihoon who gave a quick nod. “I’ll walk her home. Don’t worry. Then I’ll take a taxi back myself.”

After much long-winded convincing, the two headed off to the hotel while you and him were left walking down the street, his own face masked up and covered with a baseball hat in case of anything.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home.”

“I’d like to, if that’s alright with you.”

He noticed you adjusting the hem of your shirt. “Okay. It’s a little bit of a walk from here. Maybe 30 to 40 minutes or so.”

“That’s 30 to 40 minutes I’d like to spend with you.”

“…yeah. I’d like that too.”

This felt almost surreal. You by his side.

But also so natural, almost inevitable.

As if this was all just waiting to happen.

After a moment’s pause, you asked him what he was doing for the coming months, if there were any plans.

“There’s a concert that Bumzu’s holding in Busan, and he’s asking some SEVENTEEN members to perform, so I’ll be doing a solo piece for that one.”

“Oh, SIMPLE?”

You immediately made a face as if you got caught admitting something embarrassing and Jihoon grinned. “Ah, you know my solo song?”

“Hm. Maybe…” You trailed off, looking everywhere but at him.

Cute.

“It might’ve possibly made it as my top song of the year in 2016.”

Agh, even cuter. “I’ll tell Yoon Jeonghan that he’s not actually your bias and you’re actually a Woozidan.”

“You can call me a Woozidan, you’d just be exceedingly and astronomically incorrect, like always. Unlike me, who is right, quite literally 100% of the time.”

Jihoon laughed. “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m one of the brains in SEVENTEEN, alright?”

“That’s because you were forged in the fire that was your friendship with me. Of having to deal with my illogical thinking.”

“Ain’t that the damn truth.”

The mood between the two of you was solid and Jihoon felt his resolve flare up within him, gathering the courage to ask, “If I invited you to Bumzu’s concert, would you go?”

“Oh. The one in Busan?”

“Yes.”

“Uh. When is it? I’m supposed to start work in three weeks.”

He wondered how big of a Carat you were because he knew that most would jump at the opportunity, but he felt oddly reassured that you weren’t a fan who would shirk on your responsibilities. “It’s in two weeks. You can… uh, bring Hyejin?”

You blinked up at him. “You know her?”

“She, uh, is always on your Instagram.”

“That’s very sweet of you and she’s gonna freak out that you know her, but she’s actually going to be in Jeonju that entire week with Wheein-unnie because they’re visiting their family. And then none of my other friends know about me knowing you. But. You know what? What kind of Carat would I be if I turned down this offer?”

Great minds think alike. “So… I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you will. I’ll sing the chorus of SIMPLE so loud I’ll overpower even your vocals.”

“You know, I never said I was singing SIMPLE.”

“Oh, what? What are you singing then?”

Jihoon grinned. “Guess you’ll have to come and find out.”

You let out a low whistle. “Wow, what an idol. Using your charm to convince me to use up my time and money.”

“You think I’m charming?”

“Enough that my wallet is in constant danger.”

“You know, I can always give you free things.”

“It’s okay. Buying your albums and merchandise and concert tickets have been the only way I can support you. And, well, I did promise I would be your number one fan.”

“‘S alright. That’s all in the past.”

Jihoon noticed you flinching at those words. Your voice was barely above a whisper, “…Is it really all in the past? It’s not that simple, is it, Jihoonie?”

He remained silent.

So did you.

You both walked, the evening stroll accompanied only by the artificial lights of the city, the sun having long since gone to rest and the light of the moon nowhere to be found.

You reached the doorstep of your apartment and you turned back to face him. “I think… We probably have a lot to talk about. But maybe the timing is off right now. I know I need to sort myself out, if that’s okay? I’m trying to do this thing where I think before I talk instead of just diving in and regretting something, you know?”

Jihoon nodded. He was all too familiar with that.

“But I just want to let you know that I still want to be a part of your life. And we can navigate how that will look like when we’re both not caught up in living our lives. Is… is that okay?”

He wanted to cry. “More than that.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you at the concert, Jihoonie.”

“I’ll see you, firefly.”

──────────────────

After that night, he was thrown back into his and SEVENTEEN’s work. Outside of Bumzu’s concert, they were working on their next album, aiming to release it in just two months, the theme centered around a youthful infatuation blossoming into a mature love.

He wondered what you would think of it.

One night, he was in his studio with Soonyoung again who looked over Jihoon’s latest solo for Bumzu’s concert.

“Jihoon, this is the saddest shit I’ve ever read.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Are you sure that this is what you’re wanting to perform? That this is what you want her to hear? In front of hundreds of people?”

“It’s… the most honest I can be. Yeah, it could scare her off. But I don’t think we can keep moving forward without addressing what happened between us. But I didn’t make this song to make her feel bad. I made it so I could let go of the pain I associate with the old her to be able to make space for the new her, you know what I mean?”

Soonyoung spared no expression. “Whatever you think is best, Hoon.”

“I’m just going to take a leap of faith,” Jihoon sighed. There really was no predicting exactly how things would turn out. You were different, he was different. There were too many unknown variables with the situation. “Hopefully she’ll be there to catch me.”

“Mm.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinking about how you’re going to be singing a ballad, pouring your true and genuine feelings, and I’ll be performing Hurricane in a tiger print shirt.”

Jihoon paused for a moment. “Duality of SEVENTEEN.”

──────────────────

You must have also been busy, as the only notification he got from you was on the day of the concert. It was a selfie of you at a gas station in the wee hours of the morning, no doubt filling your tank before your 4 and a half hour car ride, with a message saying, “i’m on my way to you! fueled by overpriced gas and cheap snacks!”

You were on your way. To him.

There was an electricity that was coursing through him that went beyond just nerves before a show. No, there was so much more riding on this, and as much as he wants to believe and trust that everything would work out in some way or another, there is the deep part of him that yearns for it to work out for the best. The most ideal cut.

He pressed his hands against his chest, as he tried to mimic compression.

But there was just too much bursting out of him to truly contain.

“Jihoon-ah, you alright?”

He must have looked like a crazed man to Jeonghan because the latter had an incredulous look on his face as soon as they made eye contact. “Do I not seem alright?”

“No.”

“Hyung.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle and moved behind him to squeeze the shoulders of the stressed man. “It’s okay to hope, you know.”

“It feels like hope is the reason I can’t breathe right now. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t care this much. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

“You’re right. You wouldn’t be. Without hope, you wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN. You wouldn't have become an idol, be our unit’s leader, become a producer, written songs, or even had the chance to reconcile with her. All of what you are would’ve been impossible without hope”

Jihoon bit his lip. “I feel like I’m going crazy, hyung. I keep going back and forth between whether it’s worth it. I haven’t felt anxiety like this in years. I know that lo–love–” Jihoon realized he never said that word so directly about her. He always found more poetic ways to dance around the word. “–can be a lot of work. But this? It makes me think that it’s not meant to be. When I see her and when I’m with her, it feels so right. But when she’s not in front of me, I feel like the best thing to do is to just run away.”

“Yeah, but you ran away last time, right?”

“And I wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN if I hadn’t.”

“But you’ve still pined after her for all these years.”

“Maybe that’s just me being stubborn.”

“Yeah, and? What about it?”

“What happens if I’m pining after her because I regret hurting someone I cared about, my best friend. What if I don’t actually love her–”

Jihoon’s voice caught in his throat.

Jeonghan answered in a low whisper, and Jihoon is sure that if he turned around, he would see pity in his older member’s eyes. “Jihoon–”

“No, I know,” he quickly cut him off, sighing. “Ridiculous notion. Hyung, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t understand myself at all. Just yesterday, I was talking a big game about how I needed to trust her and take a leap of faith and now it feels like I’m going back on it.”

“So, you don’t trust her?”

“That’s… not it.”

“Then what is it, Jihoon?”

“I… I can’t…”

“It’s just you and me here.”

Lee Jihoon and Yoon Jeonghan.

The very two people who were in that room together when that fateful encounter on social media occurred.

Yoon Jeonghan, the island of SEVENTEEN.

“What if she doesn’t love me back?”

Jeonghan felt Jihoon’s shoulders tremble underneath his grip. The older began to rub gentle circles and stood there in silence as the younger buried his face in his hands. “...She could.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“What if she does?”

“That’s not–”

“–How it works? Why are your worries more likely than your hope? Are they more logical? More based in reality? Listen, they’re all just thoughts driven by feelings. They both have an equal chance of happening, and yet you are convinced your worries are true. And maybe that’s your fault. Your fault because you keep suppressing your hope in fear of pain and rejection. So that later down the line, you can tell yourself that you knew it anyway. But guess what? This isn’t a game where you’re trying to come out of this as the least hurt.”

Jihoon felt lucky that Jeonghan couldn’t see his face.

“Just think of it as finally being able to let out the entire truth that you’ve been hiding for years, the truth that has been found in your lyrics, but is now finally going to reach the person you’ve hoped for so long that it would. She’ll be right there, listening to you. You’ve wanted it for so long. Don’t try to convince yourself all of a sudden that it’s not.”

“...Yeah.”

“Plus, they already have the line-up and backing vocals set up, so. It’s not like you can change it now. Go put your in-ear in. We’ll be in the audience. All of us.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“...I’m not sure if it means anything, but you’re a good man, Lee Jihoon. I’m proud of you.”

Jeonghan patted the younger’s shoulder before exiting the small space, leaving Jihoon to his own thoughts. Ones that no longer swirled over the possibility of pain or even the potential of reciprocation. Instead, he thought about his members. The ones he’s told he’s loved, both in teasing ways and genuine utterances.

And then he thought of you.

He’d like you to hear the same from him.

At least once.

(And hopefully more.)

──────────────────

Busan’s driving laws were nothing like the rest of Korea. 

Luckily growing up in Busan, you were aware of the way that the drivers swerved in and out of lanes, making illegal (?) turns any chance they got. The flow of traffic in Busan is so aggressively different from Seoul, that it felt as though you had to flip a switch to reorient yourself into the version of you that learned how to first drive in Busan.

Not long after the person you were driving to see had stormed out of your home.

You sighed.

You weren’t sure what to expect at the concert.

It felt almost embarrassing how much you daydreamed over him potentially singing a song to you. The reality is dangerously close to overlapping with the delusion that you found yourself trying to literally shake away the thoughts.

But how could you not be a little hopeful?

The love of your life invited you to a concert, with him singing a solo song.

Maybe he’d confess–

The honk of the car behind you pulled you out of your thoughts. You groaned loudly, slapping your forehead. “Get it together, Y/N!”

Jihoon had told you to enter the concert hall through a certain entrance, and that you wouldn’t need to wait amongst the lines. He recommended waiting until everyone else was seated, so you would still have 20 minutes to kill before entering the venue.

You drove, mentally fighting yourself every kilometer of the way, until you finally reached the venue. You showed the badge that Jihoon had given you and was directed towards the back lot where staff parked. You cut the engine and sat there, attempting to calm yourself down.

You immediately get a request for FaceTime on your phone.

You answer it.

“Bumblebee!”

“Unnie, I can feel myself eroding away.”

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

You heard Wheein’s voice in the background. “Is that Y/N?”

Hyejin answered, “Yeah. Wanna say something?”

Wheein popped into frame. You gave a weak wave. “Are you gonna confess today?”

“What? No. That wasn’t in the plan.”

“Okay? Then change the plan,” Wheein said, as though it was the most obvious thing.

“I just want to be friends.”

“Forever?” Wheein asked.

“For now,” Hyejin supplied.

You rolled your eyes. “Listen. All I know is that I want to be in his life, and whatever that looks like is still to be determined, alright?”

“But what do you want in the long run?”

“You know I can’t plan for the long-term. Let’s just take things day by day, alright?”

“Okay, but what if he confesses today?” Wheein asked.

“He won’t.”

“What if he does?”

“I–”

Hyejin tapped Wheein’s thigh off-camera. “She’ll handle it if it comes up. No matter what happens, we’ll be here to pick up your call, okay? Whether it be to sort out your feelings or to just fangirl about the concert. We’ll be here to listen to whatever you’re willing to share. There’s not much to do here in Jeonju anyway, so. Just hit us up.”

“Go eat Jeonju bibimbap.”

“We did,” they answered in unison.

You let out a short laugh. “Alright. Well. Regardless of everything, time will continue to pass. I’m going to just bask in the fact that I was invited by a member of my favorite idol group to watch his performance.”

“And that’s already cool as hell,” Wheein nodded.

The three of you chatted about their plans for the week while you did your best to focus on the conversation while still paying attention to the time left until the concert. Not long after, you bid them farewell to once again sit in silence in your car, pressing your hands against your chest.

It was time.

──────────────────

Bumzu’s concert started off as nothing less than spectacular.

You always admired his musical prowess, knowing that he was the one who helped Jihoon form his own identity as a producer and songwriter. Bumzu was a titan in his own right, his lyricism and musicality rivaling plenty of others in the field.

Although his talent is impeccable, the venue itself was small. His transition from performing towards writing and producing had a hand in influencing the number of tickets sold. You also realized belatedly that the concert wasn’t advertised to include the SEVENTEEN members that you were promised.

Regardless, it felt like such an intimate space, you were thankful for it.

You were in the upper gallery, away from the rest of the concert attendees. There wasn’t anyone else nearby you, and you assumed that would stay the case.

That is, until you heard someone sit right next to you.

You glanced over, not wanting to be overt in noticing them (although, Korean culture lends itself to staring at others outside of Seoul and Busan), and you felt your breath hitch.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I–yeah.”

“I recorded a video for you for your graduation,” the most beautifully ethereal man on this side of existence said. “Do you remember?”

“I–yeah.”

He flashed a brilliant grin. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I–yeah.”

“Congratulations on graduating.”

“I–” This time, his voice overlapped yours. “Yeah.”

You flushed. “Sorry. I’m just– I’m kind of taken aback.”

“I heard I was your favorite member, your bias.”

“Mm. That’s true.”

“Why is that the case?”

You paused for a moment, the vocals of Bumzu drowning out the sounds of your conversation. “They say that your bias is the one who’s most similar to you. And your bias wrecker is the one that you’d most likely want to date or be romantically involved with.”

“Oh, so, we’re similar?”

“In the way that we love others, I think? From what other members have said about you, the way that you love is both wide and deep. You love others in a way where you can be a home for them during times of hardship,” you said, sheepishly. It felt almost strange to claim you were as loving as you were, but. You knew yourself. You knew your heart. Even the bad parts. “Also, we both would cheat at games.”

“It’s the only way to play.”

“Winning is too easy otherwise,” you added.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “Well. That makes me feel better.”

“That I cheat at games?”

“No. That you love in the same way that I do. Because if you love Jihoonie as much as I love him, I think I have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I do.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry?”

“I do love him,” you said, unhesitantly. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest decision to tell one of Jihoon’s closest confidants this information. But, it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t ever meant to be a secret. It was simply a fact. “There’s no way that I wouldn’t.”

“You… You haven’t doubted your feelings?”

This time you raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would I? He’s easy to love.”

Jeonghan laughed. “You’re so right, Y/N. So. Is he your bias wrecker?”

“You mean the one that I want to date?”

“The very same.”

You saw the mischief in his eyes, and you felt yours bubble up inside. “I wonder.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised you cheat at games, you don’t seem like a great liar.”

“Who said I was trying to?” You flashed him a toothy grin.

“It’s rather strange to see just how different the two of you are. And also, how human you seem. The way that he talks about you, you’d think otherwise.”

“Unfortunately, being human is all I know,” you said, trying to shove down the feeling of butterflies in your stomach at the mention of Jihoon speaking of you to his precious brothers.

Bumzu was now giving a ment, but you were still so focused on the man next to you.

He crossed his legs and looked out at the stage. He pursed his lips. “Y/N. He’s a bit of a handful sometimes, you know.”

“I’ve got two hands.”

He smirked at that. “Right. That you do. And if you and I really are similar, then. Well. I hope you really listen to what he has to say to you, even if it can be hard to hear. I hope you try to understand him even when he doesn’t make sense. And, of course, I hope you enjoy the rest of your life loving him.”

You felt some tears well up in your eyes. “I’ll try my best.”

Jeonghan looked at you softly and patted your knee. “That’s all I ask.”

He stood up and you gave a slight bow. He smiled and said, “Enjoy the show.”

Bumzu’s voice rang out: “And now, a special guest: WOOZI from SEVENTEEN.”

Your eyes snapped back towards the stage, barely noticing the figure of your bias move back out into the shadows of the concert hall. You were transfixed by the man walking out on stage, his pale skin glowing underneath the stage lights, his black collared shirt hanging loosely on his frame. The cheers could not distract you from the way he gripped and ungripped the microphone in his hand as he sat down on the stool.

He lifted the microphone to his lips and began speaking.

“Hello, everyone. I am SEVENTEEN’s WOOZI.”

His eyes were darting around, but only looking downwards, barely looking at the crowd. “Today, I’m going to sing a song that I’ve only ever sang once. Um. And that was by myself, in my studio. Not even the other members have heard it.”

The crowd were wowed at the prospect of hearing an entirely new song from a genius producer. Seeing the spotlight shine on him, you realize how bare he looked without his other members surrounding him. His vulnerability was amplified by the closer proximity of the space.

You knew he was the kind of person that would lessen the amount of lines he had solely to allow others to shine more. He wasn’t like the sun, the blazing fire that consumed the day. No, he was so much more like the moon, the one that would reflect others’ light, but in such a way that was never accosting.

Even on the stage in front of you, he glowed so ethereally, you wondered if he was always the fae that you believed lived near the winding tree at Old Man Park’s home. He was the guiding light in the midst of night, always present, but in a less overt way than its celestial partner.

The sun was stunning in its own right, life-giving, even, but the moon provided comfort to those who tread in the darkness.

And you’ve seen the way he has done just that.

Not just for you, but for millions around the world.

“This is, uh. A very personal song,” you couldn’t help but notice the way that his grip around his microphone tightened. “I’m not sure if many of you out there have been unsure about what the future holds. But, this song… captures that, I think. This is ‘What Kind of Future’.”

Your reaction to grab your phone to record was immediately cut off by the piano playing.

This… melody?

Your throat tightened. It sounded so similar to the lullaby he would sing–

As if nothing happened I told myself that it was all a dream. When I closed my eyes and opened them again, I wanted to wake up with a relief.

The melody was so familiar, but because of that, you could focus solely on the lyrics he sang. 

Was this song… about you?

No, your mind supplied. Don’t be delusional.

But what if it was?

Your heart began to pound loudly in your ears, and you had to take deep breaths so as to not miss anything that he had to say.

Our past that didn't line up If I could go back in time Rather than roughly, but warmly Would I be able to let you go?

Your eyes widened.

You thought back to that moment in your house.

Could it be–?

When we weren't over As I held onto whatever was left You let go of me as I refused Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you Although I hate you, I miss you I don't understand myself so well

You immediately recall the desperation on his face and the hurt in his voice that you couldn’t see until it was too late. It was shrouded by his anger and your desire to look away. To run away. Because, to a teen on the cusp of adulthood, that was easier than being honest.

This waiting It's not easy to endure If I forget that someday As if nothing is wrong Our future will be empty and It's not that I want to forget you

You never wanted to forget him. 

You couldn’t.

He surrounded you at every turn.

The best parts of you were things that you learned from him.

He softened your rough edges, quieted the inner criticisms, pacified the burning flames.

The idea of him never being a part of your life again was one that you could not fathom, even with all of your imagination. Because there was no way for the current you to exist without him. Not in a way that deemed him necessary, but in a way that his friendship, his love, for you shaped you into becoming someone you, yourself, learned to love as well.

Your future might have been filled with joy and happiness.

His, just as likely to.

But yours and his, as he said, our future, would be empty.

We were happy about us You, who isn't me anymore Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you Although I hate you, I miss you I don't understand myself so well

You tried to quell your tears as much as you could, in fear of missing even another moment with him. Because you realize now that the feelings you had were not one-sided. Of course, they couldn’t have been. The way that the two of you stuck by each other through thick and thin.

Why were you so adamant that it couldn’t be true?

What kind of future is coming before us? Even if the Heavens don't give us an answer I'm too stupid until the end So I don't know the answer

The love you had for each other was so simple.

It was so direct, so straight-forward.

But the two of you made it complicated.

Why?

You also didn’t have an answer.

The both of you, burdened by the decisions of the past, anxious about the potential of the future.

As his vocals rang out, as he cried out, the tears finally streamed down your warm cheeks. You buried your face into your hands, listening to his voice, but unable to withstand the sight of him holding his microphone with such gentle, yet firm, hands. The same ones that trembled at his side that fateful day. Your breath staggered as you wept for the past versions of you.

The ones who struggled and constantly questioned whether you were loved by the person you longed for. The ones who somehow convinced themselves that you weren’t, rather than trusting in the obvious truth that you always had been.

And still are.

As the song concluded with his smooth vocals, the crowd erupted into cheers. You raised your head and found him looking longingly up in your direction, and if you weren’t mistaken, at you. 

But how could he? 

The stage lights were so bright, you were sure it was impossible to see beyond the stage.

But with the way his gaze softened as your bottom lip trembled.

Maybe, just maybe.

As soon as the crowd settled down to a reasonable level, he began speaking again. “Thank you all for attending tonight. Bumzu-hyung is an artist that I admire a lot, so I feel really honored that I was able to share my music here. This song is… both personal and special. And I hope that, maybe, someone out there can understand what I was trying to convey.

“Carats, thank you always for your support. Remember to stay healthy; I’m always wishing for your happiness. We hope that you continue to love and support SEVENTEEN. I’m always humbled by Carat’s love for us, and I really wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

He began to fiddle with the microphone in his hands. 

“Did you know that…” He trailed off for a moment before he glanced up in your direction. Your breath hitched. “...If you dream of fireflies, they’re supposed to represent guidance and inspiration? Because they’re kind of like a beacon of light in the dark. And according to some, they’re also meant to represent taking a chance at an opportunity that’s right in front of you. And I, uh. I’ve been dreaming of fireflies for a long time. So, I think… that means that it’s time to try and take that chance. I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but…”

He shut his eyes for a moment, tilting his head backwards, looking as though he was allowing the weight of his words to really sink into him. He brought the microphone back up to his lips.

“Thank you again. I hope our future together is one of happiness.”

He gave a slight bow to the audience who cheered loudly for him. He, once again, looked up in your direction. You weren’t sure whether he could see your expression, so instead you lifted your phone screen at its highest brightness, open to the phone dial screen.

If he gave any semblance of acknowledgement, it was imperceptible.

Bumzu was welcomed back to the stage and squeezed Jihoon’s shoulder before the latter excused himself off of the stage.

Almost possessed, you followed suit, leaving the upper gallery to rush towards the restroom, out of earshot and view of anyone else.

Not even a minute later, your phone starts vibrating.

You answer immediately. “That was fast.”

“We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

“Are you… running? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“Meet me outside. Staff parking lot.”

“I–”

“Security cleared it out.”

“Jihoon, I’m not fit like you! I’m not a runner.”

“I’m not asking you to be. I’ll wait for you as long as you need.”

Your heart swelled. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’ll see you soon, firefly.”

The sound of his smile filled your senses as the call ended.

Despite your complaints earlier, your feet were carrying you at a pace you haven’t attempted since your required physical education class. Your eyes were darting around, searching, searching, searching. The adrenaline rushing through your body was enough to keep up your strides. You were rushing forward, and then–

You saw him.

He pushed his hair back, his chest rising up and down, attempting to catch his breath. He was definitely winded from the running. But there was no rest for the weary as your eyes locked. You found yourself barreling forward, not even really thinking of anything other than: him.

And his arms caught you with ease as you slammed yourself into his chest. He spun you around to lessen the impact, but tightened his grip on you. “Firefly–”

“Jihoonie.”

You held each other for a while.

Long enough for both of your breathing to even, for your heart rates to synchronize.

As though making up for lost time.

He adjusted his face just slightly away from the crook of your neck to speak. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

“Yeah, well. I’m the driver, so no shit.”

Jihoon laughed and squeezed you closer to him. You let out a grunt. “You call the shots, firefly.”

You disentangled yourself from him and pulled out your car keys from your person. “Alright, get in, my passenger prince. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, hm?”

──────────────────

“Hi! My name is Y/N. Here’s a seashell!”

The young boy’s expression contorted into one of confusion. You were completely unaffected. He looked around at the empty playground, save for a few pigeons here and there, before pointing to himself. “Are you talking to me?”

You knew for a fact that he was someone that the CU convenience store auntie would call a ‘cutie’. You’d agree! “I’d like to!”

“I’m… I’m Lee Jihoon.”

“Okay, Jihoon! Can we be friends?”

“S-Sure.”

“Awesome!” You clapped your hands together. “I don’t really know what friends do together, but let’s go on the swings! You can sit first and I’ll push you. I’m very strong.”

“No, it’s okay! I can push you—”

“You don’t think I’m strong enough?”

“No, no. That’s not what I said—”

“Get on the swing, Lee Jihoon!”

“O-Okay.”

──────────────────

“Do you remember when I pushed you on the swing so hard that you lurched forward and got a nosebleed from falling onto your face?”

“That was the first day we met, firefly.”

“Well, I wanted to know if you remembered.”

“To the point that it haunts me.”

“You were so small and cute back then. So shy.”

You half expected that the two of you were going to drive in silence, just basking in each other’s presence. But, remaining true to the dynamic you two always had, there was still so much to talk about. You told him about the drive down from Seoul and how Busan really needed to up its driving laws to match the rest of the country. He told you about how Soonyoung just finished performing “Hurricane” on stage and Jeonghan sent him the video.

You told him about how Jeonghan actually approached you.

“Aha.”

You couldn’t turn to see his expression, so you asked, “Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“He, uh. Might’ve witnessed me have a bit of a mental breakdown backstage, so.”

You took his nervous laughter as a sign to not push further. “Honestly, me on any given Tuesday.”

“What, your grad program?”

“Oh, man, I gotta tell you.”

And so the two of you exchanged both stories and banter until you finally saw the shoreline coming into view. Just a couple of moments later, you parked your car along the sidewalk at the edge of the beach. This was a more local area, far away from tourist spots.

“Ah, this place.”

“Lotta memories here,” you said. You shot him a big smile as you turned off the engine. “Let’s go make a new one.”

The two of you exited your car and threw your socks and shoes into the trunk of your car, just like you did with his parents’ car, when you were children.

As you both walked towards the edge of the water, you were very aware of the silence that had fallen onto the two of you.

There was an instinct in you that told you to remain quiet.

“You know,” Jihoon broke the silence. You smiled to yourself. “I’ve always admired how you were able to be so honest about your feelings, without worrying about what other people think.”

“That’s the nice way of saying that I don’t think before I speak.”

He laughed and you relished in it. “Maybe.”

You skipped forward a bit more, letting your toes dig into the now cooled sand, the sun long set. You had your back turned to him as you waited for him to continue speaking.

“I was always someone who kept to himself. Who never really shared my heart with anyone.”

You hummed as you turned to face him directly. “You did in your own way, I think. You just needed people who knew how to read between the lines.”

“I was never honest about the hard stuff though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I constantly asked myself if I was worthy enough to love you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he continued.

“You loved me in such loud ways. You honestly left no room for doubt, and yet my brain managed to squeeze in some anyway. But… you know what I eventually realized?”

“What?”

“I realized that if I were to give myself to anyone, to be safe with anyone in the world, it would be okay if it was you. You’ve always been honest. Your sadness. Your joy. I know I can trust it. Maybe that’s naive considering how long we’ve spent apart. But you’ve never been anything but honest. So this is me trying to do the same. Y/N, my light, my firefly, I love you.”

In his eyes you saw him searching for something, anything. He might’ve not been able to interpret the expression on your face, but there was no need to. You pulled the collar of your shirt down to reveal the ink forever etched into your skin, placed over your heart.

Art that was drawn on a paper towel a decade ago.

You knew even in the dim light of the street lamps high above you, he could see it.

His jaw dropped. “Wait. That’s—”

“I broke one promise in my life. Just one. And I told myself I would never do it again. No matter how stupid the promises were, no matter how mundane, no matter how old they were. I would never break another promise. Because breaking that one promise ended up breaking me. The promise that I’d always be by your side.”

“What are you—?”

“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Ever since I gave you that stupid seashell from this very beach,” you gestured at your surroundings. “And it was stupid because you could easily get your own, but you kept it. Like it was a precious treasure.”

The rampant beating in your chest matched the rhythm of your words.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Jihoon. I have no idea and I’m terrified. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know anything. Years at Yale, years at Seoul National, years spent in higher academia only taught me that I know so little. But you, oh, you were the worst reminder. I don’t get how you can make me feel so empty and filled at the same time. I don’t understand how you can make me feel at home with just a smile. I don’t know how you have such a hold on me. You’re just this strange enigma that I can’t seem to place, a riddle with no way to solve. But God, I so badly want to try. You’re a question I want to spend the rest of my life trying to answer. Because it’s you.”

He bit his lip and you wondered if you overwhelmed him.

“I’ve spent years, you know,” his voice barely above a whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Hoping that you would hear me. That my words would reach you,” he breathed out. His eyes softened as he recalled, “‘If a second life that’s different from now is to come to me, will I be by your side? Will you be by my side? I imagine things like this. Even if they’re words I mentioned as a joke. Will you believe me? Even if it’s a funny imagination. On a sudden day when I’m left alone, I’ll take my steps towards you again.’”

He stepped forward, hands reaching for yours, and you immediately took them, as soon as he was an arm’s length away. Physically, this wasn’t the closest he’s ever been, but it was the closest you’ve ever felt.

“‘You did this once before. Only by looking in your eyes I can tell. Whatever may happen, I want to know this emotion. When walking by my side, I don’t even want to let go of your hands. That flattering feeling is because of you, everything is so good.’”

He took another step forward, his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, hoping you could hear his words above his heart hammering in his chest.

“‘What can I do? Without you, my heart stops and it’s always cold. What can we do? Without me, you’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?’” He paused, before recalling later lyrics. “‘I don’t wanna let you go like this. I don’t want to be scared with a broken heart. I’m the place you can come to. You’re the place I can go to.”

Tears formed in your eyes, but he brushed them away easily, now cupping your face within his hands, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, and you could have sworn he felt the fluttering of your eyelashes against him, dampened slightly by your watery eyes.

“‘I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you. In my heart, it’s always been you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now, but I hope these typical words will reach you.’”

You looked at him, your entire being filled and your senses flooded.

With him.

It was only him, him, him.

How could you not have realized?

His words, his feelings were so clear.

He had the kind of love for you that brings forth a melody.

His gentle voice drew you away from your own thoughts, “Thank you, firefly. For choosing me.”

“Always, Jihoonie. Always.”

He leaned in to close the distance.

You met him halfway.

──────────────────

Your hands were intertwined with his as you swung them lightly, back and forth, ebbing and flowing, like the waves almost reaching your feet on the coastline of the local beach where you would laze away during your adolescence and find adventure during your childhood.

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the sounds of the ocean and lull of the town around you, just basking in what felt like the stars finally aligning.

Jihoon squeezed your hand for a moment. “You know, I thought you left because you realized that I had feelings for you and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, still not letting go of his hand, the sea breeze weaving itself between his and your hair.

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was pretty obvious. Hyung and noona thought the same. They figured it out pretty early on.”

“Um.”

He blinked. “You had no idea?”

“I—I thought you were in love with noona—”

“Hey, I might’ve thought she was pretty, but you were the one that turned that into something it wasn’t.”

“What! What about the times we went to try and find out whether the mini golf place was fun enough for a date idea? Or whether the food stand near the beach was romantic enough?”

“Please tell me you’re hearing yourself.”

“I’m—”

“Jesus, firefly. Are you serious? Did I end up ever taking her there? Did I even try? All of those places, all of those times, those were meant for you. You were the one who kept bringing up noona and what she would like while I was trying to figure out whether it would’ve been weird to reach out and hold your hand.” His grip tightened on yours.

You flushed at that. “Okay, but like—you spent so much time with noona before I left.”

“Because she was trying to help me plan something to get it through your thick skull just how in love I was because obviously none of the other things I did was enough.”

“I—you—she’s better than me.”

“I just confessed that I was in love with you, and you’re focusing on her right now?”

You blabbered out incoherent sounds and he merely laughed in your face at your reaction.

(Or maybe at himself.)

“Dozens of songs of writing my feelings for you into the lyrics, and you still didn’t get it. So. I’ll try and say it as clearly as possible. I love you, Y/N. What can I do to get you to notice me? Because I’ll do it, firefly. I swear I will.”

You bit your lip.

“I got my driver’s license.”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Uh… recently?”

“No. A month after you left, a month before I did. I got my driver’s license and I so badly wanted to call you to tell you. Because we talked about late night diner specials and how uncrowded the park was at six in the morning and you said I’d be your chauffeur forever.”

“Yeah, why should I have to learn?”

“Jihoon.”

“I’m doing alright without one, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes, but continued, “I drove around the neighborhood several times, passing by the mailboxes we used to Sharpie, the stop signs we tried to run up and slap, the sidewalks we crossed after hagwon, the sewer where we were convinced a clown lived.”

“That was a you thing, don’t drag me into it.”

“And I realized that none of it mattered if you weren’t in the passenger seat.”

“So, what are you saying? That I’m just good company?”

You eyed him and knew he was teasing, but there was a hint of insecurity underneath it. Because he said those words you had yet to acknowledge, let alone, respond to. The corner of your lips upturned. “Yeah, that’s it. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to be in said company for at least one lifetime. I love you, Lee Jihoon.”

“You’re missing the ‘too,’ since I said it first.”

“You’re annoying.”

“It’s been one of the only ways to get you to look at me, firefly.”

“Mm. I’m always looking.”

“Respectfully?”

“Most times. Have you seen the ‘Good to Me’ choreo?”

He bumped your shoulder as you burst into a fit of giggles, choosing to let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his waist as he pretended to stomp off. He stuck his tongue out at you, calling you a pervert, and you said, “Hey, you’re the one that’s in love with me, alright?”

He swept you up into his arms and rather than carrying you princess-style or even in a piggy-back ride, he threw you over his shoulder and you yelped loudly. 

“Jihoon!”

“Y/N!”

“Let me go!”

“Nope. Never again.”

You made a gagging noise. Who is this shameless kid?

“I’ll put you down though, my shoulder hurts.”

You smacked it once you were on your own two feet and ran as much as you could with the weight of your feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you and tackled you to the ground. You fell back, with his hand behind your head, ensuring no damage to your person. You giggled up at him.

The edge of the waves were mere centimeters from you, but seeing him against the endless night sky, with glittering stars, him, your moon, you could not bring yourself to care.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask him, about his life as an idol, about his pursuits and his struggles and his hopes and his dreams. You were so excited to fall in love with him again. You hoped that he would be just as excited to love the person that you’ve become, the one that is so wholly you, but has been transformed by him.

Leaving things left unsaid was a burden the two of you beared for far too many years, believing that you deserved the painful yearning of each other, to make up for the choices made as teenagers.

You breathed in the salt of the sea, as you thought about how, years ago, you were in the same city, letting this very person walk away from you. Shame washed over you, as it has for years, like the waves that were ebbing and flowing right beside you, and tears began to form in your eyes. It was almost embarrassing, how easily you let him slip away. He deserved so much.

“I’m a lot,” you choked out.

He smiled softly as he cupped your face gently, not moving to brush away tears that were threatening to fall. He simply held you, wordlessly accepting all that you were.

“Never too much, and always enough, firefly.”

You wanted to thank whatever higher power was out there.

Whatever one compelled Jihoon to search your Instagram page and accidentally like a post from years ago, a notification that could have been swiped away accidentally in the middle of the night by a bleary-eyed and half-awake you.

Because what kind of future would’ve come otherwise?

Would you have reconnected in some other way, more purposeful and intentional?

Or would you have convinced yourselves that living apart was something that was inevitable and it was better to have simply let the past be the past?

Or would you have yearned for each other in ways that even the potential of running into each other would lead to an eruption of nerves?

You breathed in slowly as you wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing him in, letting his heartbeat drown out even the sound of the crashing ocean beside you.

It didn’t really matter.

This future will be one that you build.

Together.

[끝.]

[its-my-whump]

Medwhump may - Day 1

Under anasthesia

@medwhumpmay

Tw: kinda emotional whump, angst, medical whump

Part 1 (all others here)

"Not a fan." She heard herself mumble. This tiny dimly lighted room was like purgatory and that she could actually see the busy routine of the OR in the periphery of her vision was all the more frightening. Just an open door seperated her from one of her biggest fears. Being helpless and vulnerable, all alone depending on someone else.

"It's all right. We're all here to take care of you. But you need to calm down, please."

The nurse was sweet talking, but it didn't help. Her heartbeat was a hectic jumble on the monitor. At least it wasn't like in the movies and there was no sound, displaying her angst even audible. Her breath was already doing that. It came in stiffled puffs. She was trying everything not to slip into a panic attack.

The tiny sheet was doing nothing to make her comfortable in anyway, laying under it in her birthday suit. She was actually thrembling, yet trying to hide it. Unsucessfully.

The nurse and the doctor were exchanging some kind of non verbal arrangement. She had skipped them talking to her. "What?" Her voice trembling as her hands and feet were.

"We gonna give you some I-don't-care-meds to help you calm down a bit, okay." The voice of the nurse was even more sympathic.

Honestly, she wasn't actually okay with any of this, but she wouldn't say no to some I-don't-care-stuff now, either. Her nod got lost in the thrembling of her body.

Gloved fingers gently pressed down her outstreched arm to keep it from moving, while the syringe was emptied into her IV port.

The nurse put her hand on her shoulder. It was warm and made her feel even more ashamed about her fright all of a sudden.

Even though, it felt like an hour had passed, she definitely still cared. In reality, it was probably not more than 7 minutes. Not much of what the nurse was talking about or asking, reached her attention.

Unfortunately, it didn't feel like the meds had anything to do with it, but only her fear.

Fear of being naked inside a dimly lighted windowless room, depending on the attention and helpfulness of others, while a tube was done her throat and someone was cutting her open. Depending, that someone would really open the oxygen tank and far enough. Depending, that someone would take a look, if her heart was still beating. Depending on someone to use clean material to cut into her skin. Depending, that the scalpel wouldn't seperate any vital parts or poke into some organs. Depending, that the surgeon was sober and well rested. Depending, that they didn't forget any instruments inside her body. Depending, that they would sew her up properly afterwards. Depending, that they would let her wake up again. She definitely still cared a lot.

Because, that was a whole lot of depending on other people, for a girl, that never could depend on anyone but herself.

Apparently nurse and doc were satisfied, with the results of the I-don't-care-stuff, she still wasn't. A quick glaze to the monitor said, her heartbeat had slowed, but was still above 100bpm. She was still thrembling, but she wouldn't mind to be put to sleep, just to get it over with as soon as possible, or even more, just to clock out as soon as possible.

The nurse had said something. Whatever. Another syringe was pushed into the IV. More undeceiferable words. She could hear them, understand, that it were actual words, but her brain was muffed, she still put it on her angst. Cause, she didn't feel any kind of not-caring, still.

"Count backwards from 100, please."

The hell? 100? How long, does that stuff need, till she was finally asleep.

"100." Oh, her tongue was heavy already.

"99." Oh brain's not working.

"98." But a row of numbers can practically count itself, right.

"97." If it will be like falling asleep? Do you know, when you get unconscious?

And she was out like a light.

->Day2

My masterlist

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Cat's out the Bag Gen 1 pt.82

After grabbing a bite to eat at the station the cab dropped the group off at the end of the street near the Gratz house. Mercury waited outside to give them a hand with the kids and the bags. Adrianne flew into M's arms the moment she saw her.

Adrianne: Look Aunt Mercury, I can fly now!

M: My big girl! Oh my goodness, look at you flying. Look who else got their wings.

Crimson: Hi Auntie Mercury.

He said sadly, his wings hung limply at his back.

M: What's the matter buddy?

Crimson: I haven't learned to fly yet. Mommy says my wings aren’t strong enough.

M: Well, you're a year younger than your sister, so I'm sure by next year, your wings will be sooo strong that you can fly from Newcrest all the way to Ravenwood.

As M talked to Crimson and Adrianne, Venus and Ishtar used the distraction to make a mess.

Kason: Really guys? Now go inside and get changed so you can come back out and clean it up..

He shook his head dissappointed. They hung their heads as he walked them inside. M set down Adrianne and sent her and Crimson inside as well.

Kason came back outside where M lingered and kissed her cheek.

Kason: How was your day?

M: Better now, but good overall. How was the city?

Kason: Good. They moved Geekcon to the Art District. They were having some kind of festival it looked different than I remember.

M: That sounds like fun. I'm glad you took the kids. Did they have fun?

Kason: Aren't you interested if I had fun?

He teased.

M: I know you had fun. I just hope you behaved yourself. You and Peyton are trouble together at Geekcon.

Kason: All innocent fun I assure you love. I only like to get in trouble with you these days.

During their flirty exchange he realized now was the best time to tell her what he'd seen in San Myshuno, but he hadn't thought about what he would say so he started with simple part.

Kason: I saw Beckett there.

M: Really? That loser, he didn't say he was going to Geekcon. I guess that's not surprising, he does live in the Art District. Did you say hi?

Kason: I didn't get a chance to. He was there with Maidson.

M: Madison? Madison Miller?

She asked stunned. Kason nodded in silent confirmation. He waited for her to recover from the initial shock. She was quiet for a moment, he could see the information working in her brain and then realization crossed her face.

M: Madison is the mystery girl.

Kason: It would make sense. Why else would he be hiding her from you?

M: That's why he was annoyed earlier when I told him to invite her to the party. He didn't think he could.

Kason looked at her with a curious expression. It was the first time they'd talked about Madison alone. When they'd spoken with Takara she'd assured them that Madison was harmless and apologetic. It seemed to appease have Mercury at the time and helped rid her of any lingering jealousy or ill feelings for Madison, but Kason wasn't sure how he felt. He knew Madison hadn't helped Paris and she'd never meant to keep their friendship a secret from him, but her mistakes had almost cost him his wife. That wasn't something you just got over. He didn't hate her, but that didn't mean he had to be her friend either.

Kason: Could he have? Invited her I mean, if you'd known earlier?

She paused giving it some thought.

M: Yes. I know you were angry with her for not telling you about Paris and well, I didn't know what to think of her, but did she really do anything to hurt us intentionally? I trust Takara and she trust Madison. So if Beckett had told me that she was his date I would have been okay with him bringing her. What good would it do to make them both pay for Paris's mess. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable but I honestly think it would have been the right thing.

Kason hadn't thought he could love her more and then she had proved her compassion and forgiveness went beyond anything he could have fathomed.

Kason: How did we all get so lucky? I can agree, I was pretty hard on her without knowing all the facts. We all let Paris get in our heads and she got exactly what she wanted. The only person I trust with your safety as much as the people in that house right now is Takara. If she still thinks Madison isn't a problem then I can accept that.

M: I guess explains all his rambling earlier.

Kason: What do you mean?

M: Earlier, when he called me. I asked why they hadn't made it official, and Bek started acting weird. He said it was “complicated” and that “it was important that I like her”. He must think I hate her and won’t approve.

She started to take out her phone and dial Becketts’ number but Kason stopped her.

Kason: It's getting late and he probably won't want to talk about it now after seeing me. Give him a chance to get his thoughts together and you guys can talk tomorrow. I'll even go and start setting up early just so you guys have time to talk.

She fidgeted nearly giving in to the urge to call him right then.

M: You're right. Are you sure? No, you're right, I should give him some space. He said he wanted to talk in person...Right?

He smiled and led her towards the door.

Kason: Come on. I'll make you a cup of coffee and tell you about the trip.

Previous Next

Beginning

Sidebar: If it feels like M didn’t fight the Madison situation very hard, it’s cause she didn’t. Madison was never the problem. She was a pawn in the game just like M and once Takara explained everything any ill feelings she carried towards Madison went bye-bye. Also, M is a people person, friendly and family-oriented and her original aspiration was friend of the world so it’s safe to say she’s pretty forgiving and wants to create peace between the people in her life even if it means having to deal with some uncomfortable situations.

Also, I know there's a lot of family dialogue recently but they haven't seen each other in so long It feels necessary to get caught up on their lives.

Last, I know I write the coffee line for Kason a bit. That's because Mercury has a crazy coffee addiction since she was in college and he's constantly making cups of coffee and leaving them in the kitchen I assume for her cause he never drinks them.

Poses: @starrysimsie Walkin' and talkin' & Hold me close

Build: @vellesa-well Central Railway station No CC

[angelsvoice1love]

Unknown (pt 1)

Y/n: Really, Conrad? You asked, as he threw his energy drink on the man's car.

Conrad: Yes. He parked on a disabled parking, and he wasn't at all. So, this is what he gets.

Y/n: Well, if he's breaking the law...then I guess it's only fair. You replied, smiling at him.

After a while of running around, and treating patients a mother with a little girl came running in yelling and asking for help.

Since you are a 2nd year resident, you ran up to the mother and the daughter. You started listening to her breathing, it was slow and sounded steady. Suddenly, she started seizing. After you gave her a shot to stop the seizing, the girl was lying calm.

Y/n: Ma'am, does your daughter have a history of seizures?

Girls mom: N...no. Never.

Conrad: Mind telling me, what happened today?

Girls mom: She was...uh...she said she had a headache and she also had a fever. But I thought she was just getting a flu.

Conrad: Any other symptoms, that we should know about?

Girls mom: Yes...she...she said that she had a tummy ache too and uh...um...vomited twice.

Y/n: Your call Dr Hawkins. You said, looking over at him since he was assigned to your case.

Conrad: Run tests, MRI, X-ray, and Labs.

Nodding, you made notes of the tests that needed to be done, and got on it right away.

"Few hours later"

Y/n: CONRAD! you yelled, down the hallway, as you ran to him.

Slipping in the process, Conrad caught you in his arms preventing you from falling.

Conrad: Woah. Are you okay? He asked, as he pulled you up.

Y/n: Um...yeah. Thank you. You replied, as you swallowed. The...the test came in. Little Anita, has swelling on the brain as shown here on the MRI, X-ray shows that her chest is normal and her blood shows that she has a few divisionsies in her blood.

Conrad: Okay. I'll consult with the neurosurgeon, ask what he thinks we should do. In the mean time, I want you to give her some vitamin c, vitamin e and calcium. Also make sure she stays hydrated.

Y/n: Anything else?

Conrad: Let's just hear what Dr Cooper says before we do anything else.

Nodding, you turned around to leave, when you were stopped by Conrad speaking.

Conrad: Note, be careful on the floor, we wouldn't want you falling now would we?

Y/n: You'd be worth falling for. You said, which caused you and Conrad to laugh.

Conrad: That was a horrible pun.

Y/n: Sometimes, you just got to make one.

After a long shift, a little girl that was in the clear you could finally go home.

Once you got home you took a shower, washed your hair and once you were done you dried your hair and got dressed in your pj's.

There was a knock on the door which made you frown, then suddenly the door opened to reveal Conrad.

Y/n: Conrad? What are you doing here? You asked, as you grabbed the black silk robe next to you.

Conrad: This. He gave a simple answer as he kissed you.

Y/n: Conrad, what are we doing? You asked, as you placed your forehead on his, and your hands on his chest. What about Nic?

Conrad: Shh. Don't talk. He said, as he kissed you again.

Without hesitating, you kissed him back as he undid the robe making it fall open. With ease he brushed it off your shoulders, as his hands moved to your waist. Moving his hand up on your waist trying to remove your shirt, he asked you to jump and you did.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, and arms around his neck you giggled as he kissed your neck. Moving your hair to the other side, you you connected your lips as he laid you down gently.

Conrad removed his jacket, shirt and pants leaving him in his underwear.

Hovering over you Conrad, smiled as he kissed your nose and forehead before looking at your pj's.

Conrad: These are beautiful, fortunately I get to take this off. He said, causing you both to laugh.

He gently, pulled down the side of the strap kissing your shoulder then your collarbone. Conrad moved his hand to your leg, as he rubbed your leg.

He then kissed your neck, your hand moved to his hair, as you pulled his to your lips.

Y/n: No foreplay, Conrad.

Conrad: That eager I see. Alright then, no foreplay. He connected your lips as he moved to take off your clothes.

"Next morning"

Y/n: Morning. You said, shifting to your side as you looked at Conrad.

Conrad: Morning. He replied, laying on his stomach looking at you. You know, there's still some time before, we go to work.

Y/n: What are you getting at Conrad.

Conrad: You know what I mean. He smirked, as he attacked you with kisses.

After a while, Conrad fell beside you on his back and you both were breathing heavily as you both looked at the ceiling.

Conrad: That was fun.

Y/n: Yeah...fun. But...should that have happened? You asked, looking at him.

Conrad: What? Why are you asking that? He questioned, as he sat up.

Y/n: I...i don't know. You said, sitting up holding the covers to your chest. I just...im not sure what happened last night or this morning...i don't know the meaning behind it.

Conrad: I don't know either. All I know is I couldn't wait anymore to be with you. We can talk about this, work it out.

Y/n: How about dinner?

Conrad: Tonight, after shift?

Y/n: Takeout. It'll be better, since we'll both be tired.

Conrad: Deal. He said, as he kissed your cheek. Before I leave, you should know all 6 times were amazing. He Siad, making you blush crazy.

As Conrad, finished getting dressed you kept looking at him and smiling as he come by to give you another passion filled kiss before leaving.

It was official, you were involved in something with Conrad that you didn't even know how it will end up in the end of it all.

Question was, how would it end with everyone around at the hospital and anyone can find out.

[urdrowning]

teach me? / a. russo

teaching lessi to play piano :,) i’m gonna cry. i love her so much.

also sorry not sorry for the hamilton reference. once a theatre kid always a theatre kid. (also sorry if this trash. wrote this at 3 am in lessi brainrot and didn’t finish it LMAO.)

your fingers press down on the keys as you hum softly to the sound, smiling slightly to yourself. music has always been an incredible comfort for you, especially piano. having being taught by your dad at such a young age, the iconic instrument has always held a special place in your heart.

your girlfriend adored watching you play, the way your fingers masterfully dart across the instrument and effortlessly play the most calming or complex tunes never failed to make her heart swell. your music soon became a comfort to her as well and she often found herself asking you to play songs for her. and you would always oblige, anything to make your girl happy.

while the piano will always be your first love, alessia stole your heart.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to stare, russo?”

she exhales in a laugh as you turn around from the piano to meet her gaze. she’s stood in the doorframe, tea in hand, watching you with stars in her eyes.

“sorry, maestro. you’re just too beautiful for your own good.”

you roll your eyes playfully, but you cant fight off the blush on your face.

“calm down, less. i’m already your girlfriend.”

her face lights up impossibly more, she never gets bored of the constant reminder that you are hers, whether you’ve been together for 20 years, or 1. she still gets giddy.

“i can’t help it! something about you just.. effects me.”

she over-exaggerates a wink. immediately creating a laugh from you at her ridiculous nature.

“down, girl.”

you both just smile at each other before her gaze slowly drifts from you to the piano in-front of you.

“learnt anything new today?”

you sigh as you look away from her in slight frustration.

“i’m trying, but these composers don’t make it easy.”

she moves away from the doorframe and comes up behind you, placing her hand on your back in comfort as her brow furrows in thought.

“could you teach me how to play?”

your head instantly snaps up toward her, a little hopeful gleam in your eyes that makes her heart flutter.

“you want to learn? which song?”

she thinks for a minute, scouring her brain for ideas before deciding on one that she heard from you the other day.

“that one song i like, from that musical hamilton, i think?”

you smile at her and shuffle over on the seat, patting the newfound space, gesturing for her to sit. she puts her tea down and quickly attempts to sit next to you, but with the seat being so cramped, she’s practically sat on you.

“it’s called dear theodosia. here, let me teach you.”

you grab her hands with your own, and guide them to the correct keys. you attempt to position her fingers correctly, in hopes that she can play the correct chords. it takes at least 4 tries until she plays it correctly, and you feel your heart swell with adoration at the gleeful smile on her face as she does.

“so i just repeat them in sequence? what if i make a mistake?”

somehow, she’s navigated herself fully into your lap with you barely noticing. she turns her head in question before blushing at the lovestruck look in your eyes. you simply nod at her, kissing her cheek lightly.

“that’s okay, it’ll help you learn. go ahead, try it.”

she inhaled deeply, suddenly intensely focused as she begins to move her fingers across the keys in the way that you’ve taught her.

it’s almost perfect (she’s still a beginner, bless her). despite the mistakes, the familiar tune is unmistakable and you can’t help but grin at hearing one of your favourite songs. you move to rest your chin on her shoulder as you ever so lightly hum the words of the song.

alessia swears that this moment is akin to a dream, the comfort of your presence and voice as she attempts to focus on the keys. she’s so overwhelmed with her emotions that she loses the tune, unable to focus.

“awh, baby. that’s okay, you actually did so amazing for your first try.”

she shakes her head as she turns in your lap so she’s straddling you and leans in to press a kiss to your lips. you fight off your smile as you reciprocate the affection, placing your hands on her waist. the kiss begins to deepen as alessia moves her hands through your hair. she leans back but ultimately leans too far, as the sound of her back hitting the piano keys is enough to break the both of you apart. you both laugh at how carried away you were.

“anyway, i want to learn nocturne next!”

“alessia, what-“

[dira333]

Life-Line - Shinsou x Soulmate! Reader

Anon Request for my Follower Celebration

Yes, Controller is my own OC, I am not ashamed of that. I picked Ectoplasm as the least terrifying person for Reader because he has the most terrifying smile (my brain works like that, sorry, not sorry)

1. longing

You stopped listening to the professor five minutes ago.

His voice is background music now, droning on and on and on about something history here, important there. The weather outside had been awful all morning, heavy rain and grey clouds. But right before history started, the rain had stopped and the clouds had started to part in places.

Now, the tiniest sliver of sunlight was peaking through the window. It catches on one of Megumi’s scales and breaks into a rainbow. At the end of it, sits Shinsou, lazily scribbling into his notebook.

He’s always pretty, you’ve realized that when you stepped foot into class the first day. Most girls in your class are more into the Hero Course students. Megumi fawns over Shouto’s cool demeanor, Shoul thinks that Bakugo could be cute if he would just stop cursing for a minute and Min Min blushes every time anyone mentions TetsuTetsu. But you just can’t be helped.

There’s something about him, from the vibrant color of his hair to the fact that his eyes never seem to miss anything to the lazy drawl of his voice. You’re absolutely smitten and you can’t even lie to yourself about it.

Lazily you twirl your pen between your fingers. It catches on the side of your glove, specially made just for you. The material is thin, the same color as your skin, and only covers your pinky. It’s the only thing that comes between you and death.

“Y/N?” You flinch in your seat. The professor is looking at you like he’s waiting for an answer.

“Uh, Japan?” You guess. Someone snickers behind you as Professor Oda harrumphs in disappointment.

“Shinsou, do you know the answer?”

“1985, Professor.”

“Correct. Thank you. Now, don’t think this wasn’t an important year…”

You stop listening yet again when Shinsou moves just a bit to the left and places a little piece of paper on the edge of your desk.

Your fingers shake as you unfold it and you have to fight the gasp that’s trying to break free.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

.

2. finding out

“Good work.” You squeak out when Shinsou passes you in the hallway. Your face is hidden behind your hands, long sleeves covering your fingers.

“Ha?” He turns, his eyes roaming over the people around him until he locks onto you. 

You’re not fast enough to escape, not sure if you should anyway even though everything in you tells you to run away.

“Did you just…” He asks, pointing at himself. You shake your head violently. 

He deflates, just a little. You can’t be imagining it, not with the way even his hair seems to sink down a little. Is he… disappointed?

It makes you rip your hands from your mouth again, squeeze out the words with all the willpower you have.

“That was a good match.” You squeak, nerves catching in your throat. “You’ll be an awesome hero one day.”

“You think so?” He asks, stepping closer. Is there a hint of pink on the tips of his ears or did you finally start to hallucinate?

“I…” Someone bumps into him and everything happens in slow motion. 

He stumbles forward, hands outstretched. Even knowing that your Quirk wouldn’t affect him if he’s the one touching you, you flinch away - but directly behind you is the window. Something digs painfully into your back just as his right hand catches on your shoulder and a burning pain erupts below his fingers.

The sound that bubbles out of your mouth sounds like a strangled sob and Shinsou pulls back his hand like he’s burned himself. You don’t wait for him to say anything, but run for your life.

At the end of the hallway, just ten steps behind Shinsou, is Aizawa-Sensei, red eyes glowing ominously in his pale face.

He does not stop you when you pass him, but his eyes seem to follow you as you disappear in the staircase, your heart beating out of your chest.

When you pull off your sweater in the safety of the girl's bathroom and prod your shoulder with your fingertips, there’s nothing there that could indicate a bruise.

But when you inspect it in the bathroom mirror, the truth screams back at you.

A brand new soulmate mark looks back at you, the color a dizzying mix of purple and white, the tattoo resembling something abstract, like a mouth and… a wave? Or is it air?

You feel a little sick as you crawl back into one of the cubicles, determined to skip the next period and the one after that, to stay away for as long as you need to get over this.

You cannot be Shinsou Hitoshi’s Soulmate. You just can’t.

-

“Y/N?” The voice has you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“A-Aizawa-S-Sensei…” You stutter out. He looks a little less murderous right now, hair pulled back in a bun instead of flowing around his face.

“Do you have a minute?” He asks. “I wanted to ask you some things about your Quirk.”

“I did not…” You start to defend yourself. 

“I wasn’t implying that. It’ll be just you, me, and Kayama-Sensei. We’ll just have a cup of tea and talk a bit.” 

“A-Are you sure?” The question is a little redundant but you’re also a little scared of Kayama-Sensei. She’s even scarier than Aizawa-Sensei.

Aizawa-Sensei seems to notice. “Tell you what. You can pick the teacher that’s sitting with us. I want you to be comfortable.”

…

“I have to say this is really nice!” Ectoplasm grins menacingly as he sips from a dainty cup of tea. “Now you said you wanted to talk about Y/N’s Quirk?”

“Yes. As far as I’m aware it’s called Life Absorption, is that right?” 

You nod, not daring to lift your teacup with your shaking hands.

“If I touch something living with five fingers of one hand, I absorb all of their life energy. It could be a tree, an animal, or a human being. So I always wear my gloves.”

“Interesting.” Aizawa drinks from his own cup, seemingly lost in thought for a minute before he shakes himself out of it.

“I assume you know Shinsou Hitoshi?”

You swallow harshly. “I… He’s a classmate.”

AizawaSensei is looking at you like he knows. You swallow again, fearing that he’s going to make you say it. Instead, he sets down his cup.

“Most people think that with a Quirk like his, he’s bound to be a villain. But he’s determined to become a Hero. You might have been told that with a Quirk like yours, you can only be a villain or a danger to society, but I assure you that is not the case.”

You gape at him.

Ectoplasm hums low in his throat.

“What are you implying, Aizawa?”

“You might not know this, but I am acquainted with the Hero “Controller”. Her quirk allows her to sense other people around her and control them. I talked to her about your Quirk and she mentioned that there is a possibility that you can train it. If you put yourself into it, you could touch people without absorbing anything and, better yet, give back life energy.”

You stare at him. 

“Are you…”

“Controller, huh?” Ectoplasm snickers softly before turning toward you.

“Before you make your decision on this, you should know that Controller is not only a one of a kind hero but also Aizawa-Sensei’s wife. If she thinks you can do it, you can do it.”

“How… How did you find out about my Quirk?” You ask, your mind still tumbling about. “Why are you interested in it anyway?”

“You didn’t hear that from me.” Aizawa-Sensei points out lowly. “But Shinsou just wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

.

3. winning

“That was great for your first training session.” Controller smiles down at you. She looks as threatening as Aizawa on a good day, but one hour into working with her has taught you just how sweet she actually is. 

You can’t remember being praised this much before.

“Oh, Hitoshi, you’re done training as well?” Controller turns to the now open door of the training room. You scramble to put your gloves back on at the sight of purple hair.

“Could I talk to Y/N for a second?” He asks, a nervous tinge coating his words. 

“Sure.” Controller walks out, brushes his shoulder with her hand as she passes him. It’s a gentle gesture and you wonder just how close those three actually are.

“Aizawa told me you started training.” Shinsou starts, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“He told me you… you told him about me.”

“Ah.” He’s not looking at you but he cannot hide the blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I… was kinda… I had a crush on you, I guess.”

“What?!” The word comes out a little too harsh, but you’re too stunned to care. “No way.”

“Yeah, but you had one on me too, right?” He lifts his hand, his face now red. There, on the middle of his palm, sits the same soulmate tattoo that you found on your shoulder.

“It’s… it’s okay though.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “If you’re not into that, I mean. We’re just soulmates. Plenty of soulmates don’t date. I just… I felt like I had to at least do something for you, if we were, you know.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be your soulmate?” You ask, your mind whirring so fast your mouth can’t keep up. “You’re gorgeous.”

The blush bleeds from Shinsou’s face. He grins, a wicked turn of his mouth.

“Oh, I’m gorgeous?”

“Shut up!” You press your hands against your mouth but he’s already one step ahead of you.

“No, say that again, please?”

That day, your first double selfie enters your phone. Because, as Hitoshi said, ‘Take a picture. It will last longer.’

-

“Step aside!” You call out to the people crowding the scene. “This is a rescue mission! Step aside!”

“No way!” Someone whispers behind you. “It’s Life-Line! She’s so cool!”

It’s a common scene. A burning building, you and your crew getting people to safety as others work on extinguishing the fire.

Megumi, with her dragon-like skin, brings out a little boy. She’s one of the few classmates that went into Rescue alongside you. 

“He’s not breathing.” She tells you, handing him over to you.

Your hands, no longer in gloves, touch his face. He sucks up your life energy like one does air after being underwater for too long.

“I’ll need more energy.” You call out to the people watching. “Who’s willing to give me a year? Anyone?”

An old man steps forward. “I don’t mind giving some of my time to this little boy.”

A young woman pulls him back. “No, I have more to give.”

Five, ten, more people reach out their hands. Five minutes later sweat is running down your back but the child takes one deep breath after the other, looking up at you with curious eyes.

“Are you a hero?” The boy asks, reaching out his fingers to touch your face.

“Yes.” You say with the confidence of more than five years of work under your belt. “I am.”

Join My Taglist

[walder-138]

Questions for Annika, Jack, & Oswald:

What's this oc's biggest fear?

What's this oc's mental health state?

What's your favorite thing about this oc?

How does this oc feel about physical affection?

How does this oc get along with people they just met?

VICE!!!!! WHADDUP GIRL!!!! TYSM FOR THE ASK!!!!!

1) What’s this oc’s biggest fear?

Annika: People. Not in a social anxiety typa way (scared of judgement etc), but of what they are capable of. Annika has been exposed to human cruelty from a young age, growing up as a child soldier in a terrorist organization convinced her that every single person around her wanted to hurt her.

Over the years, her fear manifested into hate for humanity. It was never real hate, but ‘hate’ was the only label she could put on it without feeling like a coward. Fear is weak, Anya. Fear is weak. Hate and anger protected her; who wants to pet a rabid dog?

Jack: His scientific ‘research’ being exposed to the public. Jack is incapable of fear or anxiety; he’s a textbook sociopath, but he really doesn’t wanna stop performing his research and experiments (he worked on MK Ultra since he became a doctor) Seeing it flourish due to his involvement has been his greatest achievement, that being taken away from him would tear him apart.

Oz: Losing his daughter, Jenny. I’ve said this before and I’ll say this again; she’s the reason why he got off drugs following Vietnam and stopped being a verbally abusive misogynist to almost every single woman in his life. Oz knows that if he lost her, he’d most likely have a pretty bad relapse and fall back into his old bad habits.

2) What’s this OC’s mental health state?

Annika: Take a wild guess.

Jack: He’s balling honestly 😭 With everything that happened with Bell being a complete success, (assuming Annika isn’t Bell; she detonates the nukes) he basically saw his top project take off. Sure, the dumbasses in the safehouse didn’t listen to him about keeping Bell under that trance or whatever, but he can always start again; make another one.

Bro’s walking on sunshine!

In reality, Jack can’t feel anything. All of his emotions are fabricated. There could be a spark; of hope, or pity, or amusement, or some kinda love, but it’s never enough. He’s almost completely numb. He hates it sometimes, but Jack can’t miss what he’s never had.

Now about the state of his actual brain… uh ask Abbey about that. She fed him the curb

Oz: Shitty. He is constantly haunted by visions from his past. He can barely sleep at night without seeing his men -his sons- dead around him. The heroin, the morphine, and the LSD were the only things keeping him from having to see their mangled bodies scattered every time he blinked. Rehab helped him get over his addiction, but he hated talking to those damn prissy ass shrinks. But now that Jenny’s around, he can’t be high all the damn time, so Oz has to deal with it without any assistance from anyone but his ex.

He’s stressed, and he thinks he can’t do it anymore, but he wakes up every morning and does.

3) What’s your favorite thing about this OC?

Annika: How far her development’s come along. I based her off me when I play video games (I rage a lot 😭) and had to think about how, realistically, someone with an erratic fighting style would come to develop it. Since I die a lot, I figured Annika wouldn’t have any formal military training except by the terrorist organization she was raised in. I really wanted to make her a reflection of my video game playing style, and I’m happy to say that she does. Just with more depth now.

Jack: He’s not far along in his development process, so this will most likely change but so far, it’s how two-faced he is. When you talk to Jack, he genuinely seems like a nice guy that you’d wanna crack a couple cold ones with on a nice, hot day, while all of his ‘patients’ are horrified of him. Dudebro’s the reason Abbey doesn’t like British people 😭

Oz: I’ve got two things. How real he is. I’ll admit; a lot of my ocs are over exaggerated, but at least in my opinion, he’s the most realistic. I’ve made a post going slightly more into depth about this a while back. The other thing is that Oz is somehow my 2nd most morally stable character after all the shit he’s done 😭😭😭

4) What does this OC feel about physical affection?

Annika: She yearns for it. Annika’s never felt the loving touch of any individual that wouldn’t later be used to hurt her. Now, I’m not saying it’s a smart idea to abruptly give her a hug, unless you wanna pull back a bloody stump or you’re her girlfriend, as that scares her, tying back to her fear of people.

Jack: He doesn’t particularly care for it one way or another. Jack might tuck someone’s hair behind their ears if he’s being patronizing, or pat them on the shoulder to reassure them, he doesn’t really get anything from it. He won’t provide any physical contact if it doesn’t benefit him, unless it’s with his partner. Everyone else, even Jack’s own kids, can go to hell.

Oz: Oz is touched starved. At this point, he’d take any form of physical contact from anyone. The problem is, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, so he recoils from it at every opportunity it’s shown. He says it’s unmanly, but if a woman even patted him on the cheek, bro’s getting a bit excited 🤭

5) How does this OC get along with people they just met?

Annika: Not well. Annika already hates the people she actually knows, introducing her to a person she doesn’t know will ensure hostility. Unless you’re going on a mission with her, she doesn’t want to know anything about you. She doesn’t want to know what you think about the weather. Her life wouldn’t be impacted if you lived or died, and she wants you to know it 😭If she can, Annika would just walk away after the initial greeting.

Jack: He’s the opposite of Annika, at least on the outside. He introduces himself, shakes your hand, and offers to take your coat. Very gentlemanly, especially to women and children. He presents himself as a genuine caring and kind man, giving gifts and offering to listen/help anyone around him. So whenever people (Abbey) accuse him of doing something, everyone tends to be like “Not Jack! He helped me sort through my divorce!” even if they barely know him, cause Jack’s just so damn polite.

Oz: Oz is extremely awkward. Most of the times when he’s meeting someone for the first time he just kinda stands there like🧍‍♂️waiting for his friend to finish talking so he can go watch the Patriots game. He isn’t rude about it though; he’ll smile and wave but he isn’t too good at small talk. Only when he starts to open up more will he start being the asshole we all know and love.

[rabbitsonthemoon]

MHA fic plot bunny (eraserdust-ish??? but not really???)

remember when I said I didn't /think/ I'd put any mature content on this blog? hahaha. same vibes as me thinking I'd 'just' write 20k words of a story. I mean, does it count if they don't actually do anything smutty? just that the subject is mature and has sexual themes??? Anyway I'll put it below the cut just in case, advert your eyes if it's not your cuppa.

tw: sex pollen (but not in the way you think), dubcon (in the sense that this Would Not Be Happening At All if not for the sex pollen), sexual themes, fear of noncon (due to misunderstandings), kidnapping, no smut, no romance, no feelings, kind of fuck or die but not really, Tomura is asexual in this one.

got bitten on the ankle by a plot bunny. mature rated MHA fic, partly crack treated seriously, about Shigaraki getting hit with a sex pollen-esque quirk in an attempt to weaken the LOV, except it does take asexuality into account so instead of being overwhelmed by lust and falling apart he's just. so fucking annoyed. so miserable. so done. his cock is not allowed to take that tone with him. the only relief that works for him is physical contact. cuddling and touching. except he doesn't want to touch anyone because of his quirk. he doesn't want to risk dusting one of his party members and the list of people allowed in his personal space is very. sad.

this is after Kurogiri got yoinked and before they found gigantomachia (canon who?), which might help explain why there were only one brain cell left in the LOV. They want to help Tomura, of course. He's miserable and the quirk lasts as long as a common cold if it's left to its own devices. They're also broke as hell. They really wish Kurogiri was there. He would know what to do. As far as a sabotage plot goes, quirking up Shigaraki to weaken the league is unfortunately working, just not in the intented way. he's miserable and it's everyone's problem. the itching is worse than ever and there's only so many spare shirts they're willing to rip up for bandages. point is, they're getting desperate.

and never underestimate the desperation of idiots.

they turn from looking at villains to looking at heroes. obviously it has to be an adult. which removes a hilariously sad amount of people from the pool because most of their heroic beef has been with a class of teenagers.

hey, how about their teacher? the one who erases quirks? tomura is still in absolute misery and completely misses the Signs That Something Is Amiss when he gets asked for his opinion on Eraserhead (he's still cool, wish he was a recruitable party member, his quirk would be useful).

fortunately for them, there's a feral cat hanging around their latest hideout that the whole league has been feeding, like the most poorly-kept secret. the cat is plump and trusting. heroes do things like rescue innocent animals, right?

perfect pro hero bait.

(the amount of heroes who would actually fall for this is a statistical error. Aizawa Shouta, who follows stray cats during his time off, is an anomaly and should not be counted)

cool. pro hero successfully captured. they have until he doesn't show up for his next class before the entire wrath of Yuuei and most of the underground heroics network comes down on their heads. Compress caught him in a marble. Cat was a paid actor and compensated with tuna. Cat is fatter and happier. unfortunately they have to. you know. let him out. It's a bit like trying to prepare and hype up the team to release a pissed-off lion.

cannot emphasise enough what a Terrible No Good Day this is for Aizawa. His evening plans consisted of changing into the comfiest pink sweatpants he has, finishing some grading, and falling asleep on top of the papers. This was not what he signed up for when he followed a weird little girl (disguised Toga) into an alleyway because he heard a cat and was told it needed rescuing. Now he's surrounded by the villains who attacked Class 1-A.

For the LOV, trying to explain themselves while trying to avoid getting their throats ripped out by a underground pro hero with a grudge is a WHOLE different kind of problem. they are. a lot more scared of him than he realizes. and that was before he pulled out the big knife!

In the League's defense, it never crossed their minds that getting into a four-way brawl with Eraser (Toga took a long hike with the cat) while explaining that they kidnapped him because Shigaraki's been hit with a sex pollen quirk and they ran out of options really wasn't A+ communication.

Shigaraki gets drawn to the fuss (read: they're being so fucking noisy while he's trying to sleep through the quirk) and it sure is a moment. misunderstanding cleared very fast, but Dabi is not getting those torn staples back, Twice is very grateful that his mask protected his eyes, and Spinner is Googling if mutant quirk-types can get rabies.

Eraser is suspicious as hell of the whole thing, but the ordeal sounds so stupid that he kind of believes it on principle. he's very glad that the cat is fine. the cat honestly wins more trust than any reassurance that he isn't under any obligation to stay, they just need help and couldn't think of any better way to make him hear them out than kidnapping him. still not allowed to know where he is, though, because it's a nice hideout. (Shigaraki has never come closer to dusting his own teammates.).

Because he's terrifyingly logical and efficient, Eraser is actually hearing them out + he's an absolute demon to bargain with. They get their human hot water bottle that doesn't mind being the recipient of a quirked-up Tomura's clinginess, he gets a free nap and valuable intel about the LOV's future plans and members. Probably nothing the police wouldn't have found eventually, but very neatly packaged instead of taking months to piece together. Sexual intimacy is off the table. He'll Erase Tomura's quirk if he feels threatened. The eye drops stay close by. Either of them can back out at any time. Eraser keeps his mouth shut for privacy's sake. They owe him a bottle of whiskey for the inconvenience and a fucking week of going radio silent on villain work. He wants regular updates on the cat. They keep their end of the bargain, he'll keep his.

Shigaraki would die from embarrassment if he didn't already feel like he was dying from touch starvation. Good thing Eraser is very warm and pliable (caterpillar man), and has seen far too much to be fazed by this. probably knows a thing or two about ways to alleviate the suffering caused by the quirk, like heaping on any pillows and blankets from around the hideout. It's still awkward, of course. Sleepover from hell for both of them basically. There's an inherent sort of trust you need for this that is. not fucking there. but Eraser is trustworthy. even when Tomura's body is reacting with arousal dialed up to eleven, much to his dismay. It's like a sick day. But kinky. Except communication and understanding skips the kinky. Probably the most healthy interaction he's had. (yikes).

ofccourse you can't be cuddling the enemy through a sex pollen buzz without some kind of angst! Tomura isn't going to lie around all day, and his new Erasure hero blanket is portable. You bet he's still being a restless, scratchy bastard, playing his video games, trying to pretend the league isn't hovering like flies. And sure, Eraser's job here is just to laze around for Shigaraki to cling onto, but his trauma??? adoptable??? senses are tingling. Tomura says the most fucked up little things, nestled in those long rants about enemy hitboxes and the plague of heroic society and That Ending Was Bullshit, Actually.

The LOV are running out of nails to bite. doesn't help that Eraser is observant as hell and clocking them whether they like it or not. Kidnapping a pro hero with the keenest fucking sight was A Mistake, Actually, but by now Tomura is satisfied with the arrangement and it's too late for regrets. Eraser's phone might ring, might be Mic because he had a weird feeling today was a prime day for his friend to get kidnapped by villains while looking for a cat under suspicious circumstances, or something. well. his gut wasn't wrong, but Eraser's got it handled, and he wins more trust tokens by rolling a nat 20 on deception, all good here, see you tomorrow, grab me a coffee.

I think in the end the real winner here is the cat. Nothing but a good time for that spoiled little bastard. If Eraser accidentally slightly tames the LOV like a pack of feral cats by proxy, that's entirely covered by their NDA. The quirk breaks by the next day. It's a struggle to get Eraser to leave, because he's having a very comfortable sleep for once + staying in the captivity of the LOV is marginally nicer than being the homeroom teacher of the hell class. Perils of opening your secret villain hideout to the prince of sleep.

They tempt him out with the cat.

I'm gonna write this one into a full fic. ❤️ I'm craving sweets that the bakery (Ao3) does not have!!! I'll make my own then. >:3

[23starii]

Pt 1/2 Kenma Kozume X Reader

((Not my photos!!))

Part two here

The game of connection!! ♡︎♥︎♥︎♡︎

Summary: Kenma has been very distracted recently. When Kuroo finally gets kenma to admit why, the upperclassmen will do his best to help out any way he can!

Warning/notes: nervous kenma, social anxiety, crushes, kuroo being the bestest friend ever, concerned for kenma and a silly goose, confusion

"What's wrong, kenma?" Kuroo wondered, looking down at his short friend.

Kenma was quite distracted the past few days. No one could miss it.

Kuroo wasn't going to ask, but after all his teammates expressed their concerns for the setter, he thought it would be best to help any way he could.

Considering it was a free period, and they weren't doing much other than Kuroo practically talking to himself while Kenma stared off into space, not paying a cent of attention, Kuroo Tetsuro figured it wouldn't be the worst time to ask about it.

"What?" Kenma answered, he genuinely hadn't heard what the taller male had said.

"What's bothering you? Everyone can tell somethings up."

"Um..there's nothing wrong. Just uh, video games." Kenma replied, not even trying to sound genuine.

Kuroo was silent for a moment, and for that moment, kenma thought he might leave him alone about it. He was wrong.

"I haven't seen you touch your ds this whole time." Kuroo pointed out, making kenma stiffen up immediately.

He didn't say anything.

"What is it?"

..

Silence.

"Seriously? You don't have to tell me, I guess. I just wanna make sure you're okay." Kuroo sighs.

"It's.." Kenma begins, catching Kuroo off guard.

"It's nothing like that.. I'm not unsafe or sad. Just distracted."

Kuroo was now more lost. What could possibly have kenma distracted from video games?

"By what?"

"..uh..."

"What is it? Is someone bothering you?"

"What? No, nothing like that. Well, maybe."

Kuroo's mind was all over the place. "Maybe"? Who would bother Kenma?

"Maybe?" Kuroo repeated out loud.

"Mhm."

The third year suddenly began to resent Kenma's personality in that moment. He loved the guy, for sure, but damn was it hard to get anything out of him.

"Who the hell is bothering you?"

"..um."

At this point, Kuroo just wanted to tear his own hair out and scream. He just wanted to help. He wanted to be patient, but damn.

"It's a girl."

"..a girl? A girl is bullying you?"

"What? No."

Okay, now Kuroo was way more lost than he was before. So..let's get this straight;

Kenma has been very distracted lately.

He's been distracted because there is someone bothering him.

A girl is bothering him.

But she isn't bullying him?

So then..what's going on? Why is Kenma so distracted by this girl-

..oh

"...is she pretty?" That was the only thing Kuroo Tetsuro could ask in that moment.

And by kenmas reaction.. he could tell. He was right. Kenma has a crush.

The shorter multi colored hair male stiffened at the question. It was for a nanosecond, but Kuroo caught it.

He caught it, and he caught on.

"Um.. I guess so. I don't know. She's weird."

"Weird how?"

"Dunno.. she never stops talking I guess."

"To you? So you made a new friend?"

Kenma glanced at Kuroo for a second then stared at the floor across from them.

"I don't know."

"Huh-"

"She's always talking to me and asking me questions. Is that what you call a friend?"

Kuroo almost laughed.

"Yes. If she's constantly talking with you, I'd say she's your friend. Does she make an effort to spend time with you in class?"

In that moment, Kenma recalled all the past few days when you took the seat in front of his but had it flipped so you would be facing him.

He thought about how yoy asked him what game he was playing and what he had brought for lunch. When you brought him a snack the next day because you noticed he didn't usually bring much to eat.

"I guess so."

"So...do you like her?"

.

.

.

"I guess so.."

Kuroo's brain felt like a spark was going off inside of it. He just got the kenma to admit something like that!

"Cool... does she like you?"

"What? No.. I dont know?" Kenma's eyes darted around nervously.

"Usually, she would be here with me, but I don't know. I dont think she came to school today." Kenma admitted. He had been so distracted during their previous conversation because Kenma had no idea where you were. It was bothering him. He had gotten so used to you and now suddenly you weren't there.

"Oh? Did she get sick or something?" Kuroo questioned. Kenma had told him all of that without him even asking.. he was so proud.

"I dont know."

"Why don't you ask her?"

".."

"You don't have her number?"

"No."

"You know her name, though..don't you? We can search her up." Kuroo suggested. He wasn't all that surprised to find out kenma never got your number.

"I know her name..but, wouldn't that be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because I never asked her for anything.."

The 3rd year thought about it for a moment. Something like this wouldn't be hard to decide on for himself..but for Kenma, this must be wayy out of his comfort zone.

"Then ask her for it."

Kenma looked up at Kuroo.

"She's not here?"

"No- I mean next time you see her! And make sure to ask why she wasn't here, so she feels like you care and stuff."

"Um..I dont know."

I don't know??

Kuroo felt helpless. Like Kenma was helpless. Maybe it would be better if Kenma didn't make a move. How would he handle it anyway?

No..Kuroo had to help out his younger friend! No matter what!

"Come on, you gotta do something if you like her.."

"Okay.. I guess I could ask for um her number, maybe."

"Seriously??" Kuroo was most definitely surprised by Kenma today. First, he admits he has a crush, and now he says he'll make a move!

"I'll try.."

"Aw yeah! You totally got this, buddy. I'll help ya out!"

Kenma didn't say anything. Surely Kuroo was more experienced with this kind of thing.. right? It would be best to let the boy help if he wanted you around.

You were the one who spoke to him first, the one that sat next to him and asked him questions.

So far, he had been too nervous and felt too out of place.. but he had to do something. He wasn't bothered by you in the least. If it was anyone else he would be annoyed.

You took an interest in what he did and complimented him. You never got in his way or insulted him.

He didn't want to accidentally push you or scare you away because of his lack of social skills.

And, you were beautiful.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little intimidated by your beauty. He didn't know why someone like you was so interested in someone like him.. but he wasn't complaining in the least.

If you were making such an effort to be his friend, then he should, too.

It had been a while since anyone spoke to him that way. Especially in his own classroom. Most people just left him alone after deciding he was just the quiet, lonely type.

He didn't know what to think. He didn't actually know if he liked you, that way, or not. He only admitted it because it sounded right in the moment when Kuroo asked.

And now.. he had agreed to ask for your number.

It shouldn't be too hard.. or weird, right?

God, if only you'd ask for it yourself.. no. Kenma had to do this. It was for his own good.

I suppose I will have to be brave.

.

.

.

To be continued