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threeacttragedy · 16 days ago

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Entry 16: The One About That Time I Shot an Arrow into the Air

“…It fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight.”

Archery has always been one of my fortes in life. I have absolutely no idea why, but I’m strangely quite good at it. My father, of course, attributes it to my ancestors; something passed down to me in my genes. So, I’m not sure that any arrow I shot into the air wouldn’t naturally find itself in the direction of its intended target. Today, that target would almost certainly be in the jugular of a Cerberus-like creature. Ah, yes, that mythical hellhound with three heads that guards the entrance to the Underworld. Not only does it dictate who can enter the realm of Hades, but also who can leave. And I’m not fond of creatures that would rather devour you alive than let you leave of your own freewill. Plus, could you imagine having three heads with three different personalities? Ugh, that would get confusing quickly. And, even worse, could you imagine all the in-fighting? I mean, an arrow to the throat – if it didn’t dismantle the beast – would almost certainly silence it. Luckily, we don’t have any three-headed dogs in this fandom…

Where am I going with this? Well – besides down a long and winding path that draws attention to the fact I enjoy poetry and archery – actually, I chose today’s poem for a specific purpose. If you haven’t figured it out from my previous cracks about the Kraken, I also like Greek mythology. In fact, learning about Greek mythology at around the age of 11 – yes, that defiant age where we’re no longer interested in Barbie (not that I was ever interested in Barbie) but we’re also not cool enough to be considered teenagers – was the first time I remember finding myself “thinking outside of the box.” And by that, I mean asking the question that I probably should not have said out loud: “If Zeus is a myth, does that mean God is fake, too?” That went down like a lead balloon (and, I hope, no one takes offense to reading that now; it is not meant with any disrespect). My mother was, of course, telephoned by the school and, when I returned home, she greeted me with (something along the lines of) a simple: “Did they answer your question? No? Then I suggest you find it for yourself.”

We all have our own truth, don’t we? Even in this fandom, we are each tasked with choosing our own path. Weeding out facts from speculation and speculation from rumor. Choosing what we want to believe over what is being pushed on us. Overcoming our willingness to follow blindly versus our refusal to be backed into corner. I suppose that’s why I’ve always liked Greek mythology (and, perhaps, storytelling in general) – because it helps us navigate life’s challenges by better understanding human nature. It’s also one of the reasons why my favorite story has always been the trials and tribulations of Eros and Psyche.

Ah-ha! See, I told you I had a purpose for bringing up those damn arrows!

Yes, Eros was the Greek equivalent of the Roman Cupid; that weird little dude who fired love arrows like a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. But Eros wasn’t some creepy little cherub in a cloth diaper; he was the devastatingly handsome God of Love. And he fell in love with the equally beautiful human Psyche. That part about her being human, however,managed to get Psyche some major side-eye from Eros’s mother, Aphrodite. In retaliation for humans worshiping Psyche’s beauty over her own, Aphrodite sent Eros down to earth to pierce Psyche with one of his love arrows so she would fall madly in love with a hideous monster (unfortunately for the Cerberus, it wasn’t them). But Eros defied his mother and, unbeknownst to Aphrodite, kept Psyche for himself hidden away in a castle. There, Psyche lived – mostly happily – with Eros visiting her every night. Eros promised Psyche she could live there indefinitely so long as she never looked upon his face (hence why he only visited her in darkness). But humans have this uncanny knack for being curious and, of course, Psyche peeked. Well, fuck! Haha, I won’t ruin the rest of the story for you except to say, yes, Eros was royally peeved at Psyche’s betrayal, fled their home, and sought refuge with his bitchy mother (because, of course, he did). Devastated, Psyche went clambering up to her pseudo-mother-in-law’s shrine to beg for forgiveness and Aphrodite, being a bit of a bitchy goddess, gave Psyche a series of impossible tasks to complete to prove her worthiness. Amazingly Psyche did in fact complete each of these four tasks but only because she managed to get a little help from some fantastical friends. Well, except for that final task for which Psyche was warned – don’t look in the fucking box. Damn humans.

Like all stories passed down from generation to generation, there are multiple versions of this myth, particularly when it comes to who helped Psyche complete her four tasks. Sometimes it’s one god(dess), other times it’s multiple; sometimes it’s earth’s creatures (the ants, the plants, and the flying things). But my favorite version is the one where Eros was the one pulling those invisible strings – or, at the very least, keeping an eye on Psyche from the shadows – because no matter how angry he was with her, Eros still loved Psyche and wanted to protect her.

Why do I bring this story up? Well, for starters, if you didn’t notice (because you were too focused on carriages and mirrors), Bridgerton Season 3 made quite a few parallels between Colin and Penelope and Eros and Psyche, even referring to the latter by name at the end of the fourth episode. The show also brushed on the importance of trust, the consequences of betrayal, and the idea that love can conquer all. Funny thing is I never thought Colin to be much of an Eros; he made a better Psyche, in my opinion. I mean, he was the one to peek into Penelope’s secret life!

But Colin’s real-life counterpart, Luke, makes a rather entertaining Eros.

On December 16, when Luke reposted to his Instagram stories a link to Nicola’s “Part 1” of her 2024 Year, the fandom went wild. And I’m not talking about just the Lukolas going insane with excitement; the Jakolas were having a field day, too – but not in a good way. The unease they’d almost certainly felt with those coordinated airplane and “Polin” posts from October returned with a vengeance when Luke resurfaced in support of Nicola – the woman for whom he consistently comes out hiding. I realized then that the one person who could simultaneously make the Lukolas’ hearts flutter and the Adjacents’ blood boil was Luke (i.e., our Eros could make Psyche rejoice while making Aphrodite lash out in anger).

If you really think about it, Luke has pulled us out of the black waters of the River Styx multiple times, making him the perfect Eros to our Psyche. Yes, our Psyche. The fandom is absolutely the Psyche of this story. After all, the fandom was the one who betrayed Luke with our collective reaction to Papsmear (but, in the fandom’s defense, that was a shitty fucking day). And, of course, that wench Aphrodite is collectively all the side story bullshit, from the Adjacent narratives to rag-mags sticking their ever-growing noses into places they don't belong.

As we finish out the year, I thought it would be fun to give Luke some credit where credit is due. In other words, I thought I’d highlight four times Luke “Eros-ed” (i.e., “rescued”) us from some mucky ass shit. This is not every moment Luke came out of hiding to do something wonderful; these are simply my top four moments where I believe Luke single-handedly resuscitated the fandom. You’re welcome to share your best Luke moments in the comments.

No. 1 - That Post-Papsmear Thing That Everyone Ignored:

Fuck, yes.

I am starting with the most overlooked event in the Lukola-verse – Luke’s post-Papsmear Cressida story. This is the taproot that keeps my faith in Lukola from falling over during a storm – Luke taking one for Team Lukola by promoting Season 3 using the scene from Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening. Yeah, yeah, Luke totally missed the target with that post but – again, in the fandom’s defense – everyone was still reeling from the sudden-but-not-so-sudden materialization of Antonia at the London premiere. In hindsight, though, you know you want to give him an “atta boy” for basically throwing shade at the Lutonia narrative while using a massive social media platform to do so. It was jaw-dropping, brilliant, and ballsy as fuck.

If you’re totally lost about how entertaining this Cressida story was, go read Entry 1 to be my blog. But, seriously, how have you not read it already?

No. 2 – Delivering the Cake:

Alright, fast forward three months (yes, three goddamn months!) to September 7 when Luke posted pictures from his stay at the Puente Romano resort.

No big deal, right?

Wrong!

It was a big fucking deal because, for starters, Antonia creeped in and posted random pictures of herself at roughly the same time Luke posted his resort pictures. And, of course, Luke had to like Antonia’s Instagram post. To make matters worse (gasp!) Luke’s had palm trees in his pictures which were oh, so reminiscent (but, not really) of palm trees posted by Antonia the previous day to her Instagram stories. Oh my God! And, then the real kicker? Luke’s slide deck included him eating a picture of himself from the London premiere sans Nicola! The horror! I mean, what probably started out as a cute post by Luke turned into a full-on Lukola heart attack within 30 minutes or less!

But then Luke pulled out a defibrillator and revived the fandom. Almost immediately.

After presumably hearing the cries from the Lukola fandom that he’d cut Nicola from the London premiere image, Luke demonstrated through his Instagram stories that (a) he was eating part of a cake (he was even darling enough to put the cake emoji with a smiley face), and (b) that the cake never had Nicola’s image on it to begin with (meaning, he didn’t remove her from it). Thank you for that clarification, Luke. Seriously, the fandom appreciated it.

After they recovered from their near-death experience, the Lukolas finally took the time to look at the images Luke posted. A not-so-random chaise lounge; a random white shirt; a restaurant called El Pimpi (which is a word used for the people who delivered messages to a ship’s crew and passengers); Luke throwing up the peace sign with his now infamous digits in – what appeared to be – the reflection of a glass table; and a reference to cake. It was Lukola- and/or Polin-coded shit. And, to make it just a smidge better, there was no visible reference to Antonia anywhere.

And, yes, I will cut in here to acknowledge that Antonia would, on October 25, include a lone picture of a balcony which was identical to the one Luke posted in his – what I like to call – “clarification stories” from September 7. Do I care about Antonia’s balcony? Not in the least. Could she have been at the resort? Sure. In fact, I’ve always found the idea of Antonia being present quite comical since Luke made it fairly obvious he omitted something (ahem, someone) from his Instagram post and instead filled it with random shit that seemed Lukola- and/or Polin-coded. Plus, if you want me to be perfectly honest, “insinuation” posts from Antonia stopped doing it for me months ago.

Back to what I saying… We must give Luke a round of applause for placating an entire fandom with something as simple as a cake emoji. Bravo, bravo!

No. 3 – Shutting Down the Mean Girls:

We closed out September with Antonia riling up the fandom by posting Instagram story after Instagram story, none of which were worth a second glance from a Lukola except for the “phone screen” one (see “Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, ‘Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?’” for reference). Oh, wait, there is another story – just for my own amusement – on October 1, Antonia reshared a story where she was labeled “Aphroditi.” Rather convenient for my story today, isn't it? Any ways, the Lukolas were a bit high-strung by October 2 when Nicola announced via Instagram that she had been named as part of the Time 100. Luke liked the post – but apparently to the haters on X he didn’t do it motherfucking fast enough. These weird-ass people do actually exist – the ones that genuinely believe Instagram likes (and the speed thereof) equate to true love.

Any ways, Luke apparently decided he was having none of that bullshit and stepped in on October 3 with his Polin-themed “Mean Girls” story. It was a throwback to a conversation he and Nicola had had in, I believe, 2022 on, haha, X.

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.”

“It’s October 3rd.”

Luke captioned the story, “Xx.”

Not only did the fandom rejoice that Luke had returned to post something after nearly a month away, but the post included a throwback to Nicola, and it came on the heels of Halley Brisker’s now legendary “Nicola lately” post. Yeah, the one with Luke in the background (seriously, convince me it was someone else). Luke’s story also seemed to be one hell of a clapback to a rabid pack animal on X who faulted Luke for not leaving a comment on Nicola’s Time 100 post.

“Xx.”

No. 4 – The Littlest Things:

I debated over choosing Luke’s People magazine interview for the fourth moment, but that interview – although it made the fandom incredibly happy – didn’t pull our heads out of our own asses. So, I decided instead to go with the little things Luke has done over the past few months, namely, joining in on the Like Wars but in his own oh, so subtle way.

Let’s start with Antonia’s September 21 post of – honestly, who the hell cares? She posted and we knew Luke’s obligatory like was coming. It just took 10 ½ hours for Luke to get to it and it was only given after Nicola posted to her Instagram stories pictures from a concert she had attended. Was the fandom a bit deflated Luke liked Antonia’s post? Of course! But it was also fun to see the like come hours after Luke had already been online and on the heels of Nicola popping up online.

On October 11, we had a similar event happen. Antonia posted to her grid and Luke seemingly ignored it for roughly five hours. But, while Luke was ignoring her post, Antonia was going hard at it with Instagram stories and TikTok videos (Nicola, for her part, seemed to be playing her own game on social media during this time). Luke finally liked Antonia’s post and Antonia went silent thereafter. Then, on October 12, Luke officially made it back from his October 4 “Brb” moment and posted “Somewhere in Mayfair” to his Instagram stories. Let the fandom rejoice!

But I’m not stopping there. Let’s not forget about Luke and Nicola’s coordinated “Polin” pictures on October 21 or that, while Antonia was “rolling pasta” on November 17, Luke made it a point to go back and like Nicola’s Dr. Who post from November 15. On December 6, when Luke coughed up a like to Antonia’s grid post, he also handed a like out to Nicola at the same time (and a few others). Do you see a pattern starting to form?

Honestly, I believe Luke is owed a standing ovation for the way he has taken control of his own narrative and managed to deflect from the so-called “importance” of these bullshit Instagram likes. Although Nicola has historically attempted to distract the fandom from Antonia, in my opinion, it was always Luke’s responsibility to diminish the importance of Antonia’s role in his story. And, for the past several months, he has been doing just that – in the quietest way possible.

I’ve decided Luke is a bit like a shadow. Inconspicuous – sometimes even completely invisible – but when the light hits just right, it’s impossible to ignore his immense presence.

When Luke posts, or when he coyly plays around with the Instagram likes – even when he likes Nicola’s posts – it somehow resonates differently with the fandom. Nicola could post her year-end stuff and the fandom would be, like, “Oh, that’s cool.” But, when Luke reshares her post to his stories? “Holy fuck, that’s awesome!” It's a "different energy on set." Somewhere in the middle of all the bullshit that goes on within the fandom, Luke found his own truth. The “Bad Guy” who was “on a break” during Hot Boy Summer somehow became our hero; the shadowy figure that pulls us out of the water and sets our heads back on straight. Over and over again. It's been so subtle, we've barely even noticed.

I’m going to end this entry with the Longfellow poem I quoted at the beginning, mainly because I like it, but also because it’s about something that cannot be easily seen once released into the world but, if found, can have an everlasting effect on us.

“I shot an arrow into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight;

“I breathed a song into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for who has sight so keen and strong; that it can follow the flight of song?

“Long, long afterward, in an oak; I found the arrow, still unbroke; and the song, from beginning to end; I found again in the heart of a friend.”

P.S. In the story, Psyche is rescued by Eros (hurray!) and is made the Goddess of the Soul.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only

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wonustars · 8 months ago

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𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (Teaser)

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x reader 𖥔 wordcount: ~15k+ (this teaser: 599) 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: fake relationship/marriage!au, non-idol!au, mafia!au, afab!reader, norbert is readers cat (more tags when the fic is posted) 𖥔 release date: may 14 or 15, 2024 𖥔 author's note: if i end up posting after the predicted dates plz do not crucify me 🙏 ik a lot of people have been waiting for this one so i'd thought i post a teaser since i have 2-3 chapters left till its finally finished. thank you to all of those who sent in their ideas and to those who've shown so much interest in this story :") i really hope it lives up to your expectations!! see u soonest - anna ♡ !!!!

𖥔 keep reading

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward to say the least.

Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homely" as possible.

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye-candy. Despite the fact that he wore his pink shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn.

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in.

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal.

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully.

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of fourty plus year old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratches the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him good-bye, curious as to what they group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers isn’t it?

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt he left. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raises a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it.

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand.

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you, there wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you’ve moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him.

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house.

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyways, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden.

From across the yard, neither you of Mingyu notice Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awfully awkward for newly weds, he thinks to himself.

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book.

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?”

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.

#kim mingyu #mingyu #svthub #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #svt fic #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fluff

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dynamightimagines · 2 months ago

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Can you write some headcannons of Izuku, Katsuki, Denki, Kiri, and Tamaki Amajiki dating a reader whose quirk is basically her being a magical girl.

Hey hey! Sorry this one took a min! This is so cute I have just been so mf busy with work and everything in like (why is finding new health insurance so mf hard) Hope you like it!! headcannons under the tag!! (I'm switching canon a little around for a few to fit reader into the story!)

Izuku, Katsuki, Denki, Kirishima, and Tamaki with a magical girl! S/O!

Izuku Midoriya

The first time Deku had seen your quirk he was absolutely stunned.

You guys were doing the villain and hero scenario's and you had been partnered with Uraraka to stop Iida and Bakugou from taking the bomb

It was normal at first, until the bright light went off

At first Izuku thought it was Bakugou setting off a particularly big explosion, the white of the blast blinding the cameras they were watching the fight from

But as it dimmed he realized it was focused around you, and as it went away he realized why your hero costume at first was so basic

It had completely transformed, you now adorned in a cute (favorite color) outfit, complete with bows and a small staff now in your hands

You seemed to move faster, even with the complicated outfit you were dodging your enemies left and right, sending out blasts from the staff you now carried

Izuku desperately wished he had his journal right now. How did your entire outfit change? And the increase in your stamina and dexterity?

You were keeping up very well with your opponents, dodging Bakugou's blasts left and right and moving faster than Iida could reach you

You were able to keep them long enough for the timer to run out, signaling your win against the hero team

As soon as you got back to the meeting room you were flocked by everyone, all of them aweing over your new costume and how your quirk worked

Another bright flash was sent out and you were back into your normal clothes, fatigue now visibly apparent on your face

Deku offered to take you to the infirmary to rest since his trial was already done

He tried really hard, but he couldn't stop himself from throwing question after question at you, wondering how your quirk worked, its drawbacks, and what all you could do

You were happy to answer all of his questions, bashful at the idea of someone so interested in your quirk

This blossomed your friendship, and little did you know how far your relationship would go

Katsuki Bakugou

Everyone teased him for your relationship

How did he, the angriest and most volatile student in UA, get together with one of the most upbeat and sociable students?

He made everyone who knew swear up and down they'd never let it out that he was the one that fell for you first

When he first saw your quirk, he thought it was the most obnoxious thing in the world, bright lights and frills and a wand?

But the power you had, the strength and how well you wielded the quirk's possibilities was admirable

Your sociable personality bounced off of his brash one well, making you two a popular couple

He knew you could handle yourself, sitting back during training knowing you'd always kick your opponents ass

Plus, he found it absolutely hilarious to see hardened, scary villains get demolished by you in your adorable costume, like a doll beating down Godzilla

He will also never admit it, but he finds your outfit adorable

He swears it changes a little bit every now and then, morphing to your growing personality

No matter what, its a perfect personification of you, and he will never get tired of it!

Denki Kaminari

The first time Denki saw you in action he swears he died and went to heaven

We know this guy watches anime, so the fact that, right before his eyes, a beautiful magical girl is here, just for him?

Technically just for him, as you two were sparring and you were coming right at him with your staff at the ready

He didn't care if he got teased for the quickest knockout in today's class, the fact that you carried him back to the infirmary and waited for him to wake up is all he needed to see before he decided he loved you

He hits you with so many flirty comments, calling you magical and asking you if you could sweep him off his feet

Luckily for him, it worked, and you two began dating

He will never stop bragging about you, showing off your quirk and cuteness to everyone he meets, daring them to fight you just so he can see you kick their asses, and see their faces as they realize the adorable and seemingly harmless girl they dared to fight could probably send them to hell and back

If anyone makes fun of your quirk he's quick to defend you, threatening to fight whoever dares to be mean to you, even though he knows you can defend yourself

He will never get over your magical girl outfit, begging you to activate your quirk just so he can take pictures of you in it

He will beg Momo to make a replica of it so you can wear it even while not activating your quirk

You are his beautiful magical princess and he will always treat you as such!

Eijiro Kirishima

You two are such a power duo

you both are power houses in a fight, and when you're partnered you are practically unstoppable

Imagine trying to block Kirishima while you're in the back shooting blast after blast of pure power

Any opponent would be overwhelmed quite easily

If anyone doubts you because of how your quirk looks he is the first to defend you, telling whoever is being mean to you that you are probably much stronger than most macho looking guys out there

If anyone's words ever get to you and you start doubting yourself he makes sure to shower you in reassurances, telling you that despite how girly someone may think your quirk looks you are a beast on the battlefield

He would ask you to help him train, to shoot blast after blast at him to help him increase the durability of his hardening

You two are easily the most popular couple at UA, your guys' kindness and strength make everyone feel safe and appreciated

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki first noticed you when you got second place in that year's sports festival, just behind Mirio

Mirio quickly became your friend, so of course you became good friends with Nejire and Tamaki too!

You and Nejire became best friends first, two of the cutest girls in your year made you quite popular

Tamaki was very intimidated by you at first, your flashiness and power was enough to make anyone shy

But you were so nice! How could he not respond to you and hang out with you when you asked so politely, and made sure to make plans in calm places so he wouldn't be overwhelmed?

Plus Mirio loved you, so that was good enough reason for him to open up to you

You're definitely the 'leader' in the relationship, taking lead of plans and any interactions you guys had while you were out

"He asked for no pickles" type of dynamic

You thought his power was absolutely amazing, and you never failed to tell him so, even though it made him a blushing mess

You got lots of love letters, many boys and girls alike showed affection for you and it made Amajiki very self conscious

You always reassured him, promising you would never leave him for someone else

He loves you with all his might and he will never stop showing it to you

Can you tell I lost all writing capabilities and motivation half way through this LOL I love this prompt I just suck at keeping focused. Love ya!

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harstyle · 9 months ago

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the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and had sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s whose name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing out dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture most. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It felt instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the next room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they didn’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head back so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want or need Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles materlist #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x nanny #harry styles ceo #harry styles fanfic rec

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auroralwriting · 9 days ago

Text

anticipation

charles xavier x fem!mutant!reader pre first class era

you were the first person to ever keep charles out of someone's mind. he instantly became enamored.

word count: 1k | warnings: none

It had almost become a hobby of sorts for Charles to peer into others' minds, just briefly in passing. He liked to know their thoughts. Sometimes it was funny, sometimes sad, and other times a little disturbing, but Charles tried to forget about those times.

One of these days, his little trick would probably get him into all sorts of trouble. Until then, it was worth every second.

One of Charles' favorite ways to do this was going to bars and reading the minds of tipsy and drunk people. Those were the most fun. There was absolutely no filter on anyone, making it easy and enjoyable for him to indulge a little bit. Truly, it was a harmless hobby.

Charles' eyes scanned over the crowd of people as he sat at the bar. His eyes scanned in search for the perfect person to read. He wanted something interesting, new, exciting. The best people to read were the drunk ones, but also the worst. It could get repetitive, but this time, Charles was determined to find someone who stood out, someone who he could dig a little deeper into.

A young woman sat at one of the booths across the room. She was alone, and my, rather pretty if Charles had a say. She just sat at the booth, sipping on her drink without a care in the world. Either she had a story or was insanely depressed. Charles hoped it wasn't the latter. Plus, what was life without risk? She was perfect.

Fingers against his temple, Charles slowly began to ease into her mind, so soft and slow that she wouldn't be able to notice a thing.

However, you did.

In fact, you knew something was up with the man before he'd even began to attempt to enter your mind. You could sense strong waves of something from the man. You'd kept him in the corner of your eye before he even set his sights on you. Determination, calculated, and dead set on you. Yeah, he was up to something.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was some creep devising a wicked plan to kidnap you or something. I mean, come on, a girl sitting alone in a bar surrounded by drunk people. But then, you felt his intentions. A mutant, no doubt, or maybe just a really good magician. Then, you saw him make a move, two fingers to his temple. Ah, mutant for sure. Must be some way to hone his powers. So, you closed yourself off entirely.

It was almost like you could feel his mind trying to invade your own. It felt like a stick poking mud. You didn't dare cause attention, so you sat there in great focus to keep him out. He was much stronger than you anticipated, making it a real challenge. Challenge was new. Not many mutants could pin you in a crowd, even alone. This man being able to spot you and attempt to use his own powers on you was unusual, but somehow, you could sense he meant no harm.

Charles' brows furrowed when he got nothing. Absolutely nothing, nada, zip. That couldn't be possible. He never failed. How could he have not sensed a single thing off of you?

Then, you made the mistake of darting your eyes to him. It was just a moment, a fraction of a second, but with how focused he was on you, he'd caught it.

He moved like an arrow speeding through the air at its target. He'd gotten up so fast from his seat that it nearly startled you. Before you could even think of getting up, he was sat across from you.

"Who are you?" Charles asked quickly.

"I think it's very rude to intrude in other people's minds," you replied, folding your arms over your chest. "Very invasive of you."

"You're a mutant," commented Charles as he eyed you.

A scoff left your mouth, "Rude thing to call a person."

"That's not what I--"

"I'm messing with you," you chuckled. "Yeah, I am. And so are you. Do you find some sick enjoyment learning everyone's deepest, darkest secrets?"

Charles let out a chuckle of his own, shaking his head while a hand ran through his hair. "I just merely read their active thoughts. I do nothing with it."

"Sure," you nodded, unconvinced. "What's your name?"

"I believe I asked you first at the beginning of this conversation." Charles replied, a small victorious smile on his face knowing he'd piqued your interest. You gave him your name, and he gave you his. Xavier, Charles. "How did you keep me out of your head?"

You shrugged, "I could sense you were going to do it before you even did it." His face didn't change, but you still added, "Don't feel so bummed. I anticipated it all before you even thought anything."

"You’re not a mind reader," Charles examined, "but you're certainly something similar."

"I can feel your emotions, anticipate your next moves." you answered. "Not the coolest thing, but it certainly makes me feel safer in bars where strange men try to read my mind."

Sheepishly, Charles let out a huff of air. "Sorry. I didn't intend to come off.. well, creepy."

"I don't think you're creepy anymore," you replied. "Plus, I've never met someone with mutations so similar to mine. I mean, we both sort of use our minds. That's something."

Charles nodded, "It is. I've never met anyone so unique yet similar to me. Tell me, when did you develop your mutation?"

"When I was maybe six or seven. From what I've learned, I guess that was a bit young. Gave me time to hone my skills." It really did take a while to get things under control. Feeling everyone's emotions within fifty feet was a lot to take in, especially when that range grew.

"Can I buy you another drink?" Charles asked suddenly. He was flirting, you could feel it. "And maybe, while we're exchanging things, you could drop those mental walls?"

You laughed, "And let you read my mind? Charles, I have a feeling you've never experienced good old heart to heart with another person. My gift to you is discovering how to learn without reading people's minds."

"So, a yes to that drink?" Charles smiled.

"A yes to that drink," you confirmed. "Get one for yourself. I think we're just beginning our night."

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badgers-and-cats · 3 months ago

Note

hi!! how are you! i hope you’re doing well, i wanted to request a story! im imagining….

Reader being shy about exploring new things in bed and Loki slowly finding out what makes reader “tick” if you know what i mean…😉

And can you could implement some degradation kink and choking kink?, just if you want to and if you feel comfortable with that!

either way you can do whatever you want!:3

Thank you!!!🤎

Loki discovering your kinks…

18+ MDNI

female/afab reader

Hiii my lovely!! So sorry this took a while to get posted, I’ve been super low on motivation recently<3 I’m not really happy with the ending of this but wasn’t sure how to end it, sorryyy!!!💕

may write a part 2 if anyone’s interested👀

Warnings: smut below the cut. Unprotected P in V sex (wrap it before you tap it). Choking kink. Degrading kink. Degrading pet names (dirty slut etc). Praising (good girl, you did so good etc.) loki says he’s gonna breed reader… but not really a heavy breeding kink. let me know if I forgot anything.

Word count: 944

Masterlist

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. In fact, you would probably argue that you’d trust him with your life more than you trust yourself with your life. And in this, completely hypothetical, situation, it was… in a way.

How would you even bring it up? You wonder. He wouldn’t judge you for it… and it wasn’t THAT unusual of a request. Plus, there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting your boyfriends large hands to be wrapped around your neck, teasing by applying pressure - occasionally cutting off your airflow.

Even when he has you on your back - legs spread and pussy dripping, his hard cock pounding into your heat, you can’t bring yourself to ask, no matter how much you crave it. How much you need it.

He groans with every thrust of his hips, relishing the feeling of your soaking heat welcoming his cock so easily, like you were made for him. Because you are.

He knew. He knew that, deep down, there was a part of you that wanted more. That craved more. He knew that you were secretly the dirty little slut he knew you could be. The dirty slut that already makes him painfully hard, despite not coming out yet to play. He didn’t want to push you. Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He loved and cared for you too much to push you out of your comfort zone and make you feel uncomfortable and anxious.

That didn’t mean, however, that he couldn’t start to new things with you. Only subtle things - things that would allow him to feel the changes in your body - feel if your pussy pulses around his cock, gripping it desperately. He’s figured out through this technique already that you have a thing for praise. It was subtle - very subtle - but it was something. Baby steps, he thought.

What if he tried the opposite, he thought. How would you react to being called exactly what he knew you were deep down. A slut. His slut.

“That’s it, darling… taking me so well, just like the dirty little slut you are. My desperate whore…” he groans, feeling the way your body positively reacts to his words. Your back arches as you moan highly at his words, enjoying the degrading words, unexpectedly.

“You like that? You like being my slut. God I love you… love your slutty pussy, look how desperate she is for me… how she’s leaking pathetically around my cock, so desperate… so pathetic,” you let out a cry at his words, moving your hips for more friction as he chuckles. Finally, he thinks. He’s breaking down that shy exterior.

“Yes… please,” you beg. You know what you want to ask for. But the way he’s making you feel - especially now that his thumb has made its way to your already sensitive clit, you can barely think of anything else. You sounded truly pathetic as you whimpered underneath him - and you both knew it.

“Is my baby too dumb to talk? Have I fucked the slut stupid already?” He pouts as he continues his assault, admiring the way your breasts move with every movement of his hips.

You can only nod your head weakly as you look at him pout mockingly. You grab his arm - in attempt of showing him what you want, pulling it to your throat.

He knows immediately what you want - wrapping his hand round your neck, chuckling, his eyes completely full of lust.

“Oh you dirty girl… I knew you had some fantasies in that pretty little head of yours,” he stops his thrusting, now completely still and balls deep inside of you. He applies pressure to your neck, seeing the slight smile appear on your lips, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way your pussy is gripping onto his cock desperately.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roll back, or the feeling of your juices somehow soaking him even more, when he tightens his grip even more, temporarily cutting off your airflow. Feeling you struggle underneath him only makes him harder, more desperate for you. He wonders how far you’d let him go with this.

If it wasn’t fuzzy already - the lack of oxygen has definitely made your mind fuzzy now. Only being able to focus on his hand and his cock buried deep inside you. Before you pass out completely, he loosens the grip on your neck - but still keeping a firm grip as he kisses your lips harshly.

He flips you onto your hands and knees, yanking your head up by your hair, using his other hand to play with your breasts, “I hope you’re ready slut… I don’t intend on stopping until you’re leaking with my seed, gonna breed you… my perfect slut,” he groans.

And he was right. You lost count after orgasm number 5 how many you had. He was now holding you closely, after cleaning you both up.

“That’s it… my good girl, you did so well for me, dove,” he kisses the top of your head as you cuddle into him.

“I didn’t hurt you… did I?” He asks, for what feels like the 100th time.

“No, I promise my love,” you say, smiling up at him, before sleepily mumbling an “I love you,” before falling asleep in the arms of the love of your life.

#Loki smut #loki x reader smut #Loki x reader #loki smut blurb #loki laufeyson

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officialaemondtargaryen · 10 months ago

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone - Part One

Summary: When a friend from college contacts you about renting out your empty, spare bedroom to her brother, you aren't really sure what to expect.

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Author's Note: I've been writing two horribly depressing stories simultaneously for a while now and I needed a break from the angst. I hope that you all enjoy this.

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, pining & yearning, fluff, possible angst, and sexual content. Plus, me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

She said, "he's kind of messy in every aspect of his life, but he's fun to be around!" Then, she very positively followed that up with, "I think you two would really get along!"

You met Helaena in college, and to be honest, you really didn't know her that well. She was a friend of a friend who had been in a few of the same classes as you, went to the same bars, and had a similar taste in art and music. She'd like every selfie, or ask to borrow a book you posted about, but you had never really hung out alone together.

So when your phone started ringing on a Friday night, after you were already three margaritas deep and swimming in queso dip at your cousin's birthday party, and it was Helaena Targaryen's name flashing across the screen, you were admittedly concerned; though, you'd always known her to be a pretty sincere person, so you took her word for it when she said that you should let her older brother move into the empty, second bedroom of your apartment. It might have been the tequila, or the fact that you were just that desperate, but you immediately agreed to her proposition without question.

You had been trying to rent the room out for months when it became impossible to afford the luxury of living alone, but every person that was interested happened to fall through for one reason or another. You had even offered a discounted rate (as the bedroom was smaller than yours and there was only one bathroom and it was a Jack-and-Jill), but you still couldn't find a good fit.

Enter Aegon Targaryen.

Suddenly, a guy whom you could only describe as 'that has to be Helaena's brother', was knocking on your door a week later. There was beat up Wrangler sitting on the curb behind him filled to the roof with cardboard boxes, and a tiny U-Haul hitched to the bumper with what little bit of furniture he had. He looked at you, blinked a few times and said, "I'm Aegon." You introduced yourself and he nodded; there were no pleasantries, no hand shakes or smiles. He just walked into your apartment, looked around, and then started moving his things in.

It was mid-July, so obviously there were better things you could be doing with your time than helping a complete stranger move his things into your home during a drought and a heat wave. Yet, you slid on your sandals and got to work after you had started to feel bad that you were sitting pretty in the air conditioning while your new roommate struggled alone in the humidity.

It didn't take long until the only thing left was his mattress. You weren't even sure how he got that monstrosity stuffed into the tiny trailer in the first place. It was ridiculously bulky and much heavier than it needed to be, but he swore that it was the most comfortable mattress you'd ever lay on in your life- a fact that you would just have to take his word for. You struggled, a lot, but put on a brave face as Aegon did most of the heavy lifting in the back and you navigated up front.

As you were coming up the porch steps with your sunglasses sliding off of your face as you dripped with sweat, and your arms tired from hours of heavy lifting (saving the heaviest for last, which was a terrible idea), you ended up missing the stoop completely and landing on your ankle awkwardly. You played it off until you had gotten the mattress onto his bed frame, and then silently cried about it in your now shared bathroom; quietly cursing the economy for forcing this situation upon you. Later that night as you were sitting on the couch, with your swollen ankle elevated on a couple of throw pillows, your new roommate tosses a bag of frozen peas in your lap and continues into his room with a bowl of cereal for dinner.

"Thanks," you called after him but only heard the sound of his bedroom door closing in reply.

Over the next few weeks you observed quite a bit about Aegon Targaryen. You knew which spoon was his favorite, how he preferred his tea, that he washed his hair with tea tree shampoo, and enjoyed mint chocolate chip ice cream. He cut the crust off of his sandwiches when he ate them at home, but when he packed his lunch he left them on. He could drink an entire box of wine by himself, but he typically stopped after two glasses, and he always asked if you wanted him to pour you one. He talked to his siblings a lot, but never his parents, and he really enjoyed watching dog videos on his phone while sitting on the couch as you tried to watch your show.

And when he laughed, he belly laughed, and you couldn't help but smile softly to yourself when he did.

Despite how taciturn he may have been, he was still good company, even if you were just sitting on opposite ends of the sofa doing your own thing. He always thanked you when you would leave leftovers in the fridge with a sticky note that had his name on it, and you started making sure that you made enough for two. When he came home late on the weekends, he tried his absolute hardest to do so quietly, but with those hardwood floors, it was almost impossible. He'd wake you up every single time, but you would never say anything. It was hardly an inconvenience after the many nights you'd fall asleep to the sound of him softly strumming his guitar in the next room.

And yet, you just couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. Because it had to, right? Surely this would be a nightmare; God finally sending a punishment for your sins and giving him the face of a literal angel for shits and giggles. You weren't entirely convinced he wasn't Karma-In-Disguise, as the only other option was just too good to be true. It just couldn’t be that you agreed to live with someone you had previously never met simply because someone that you really didn’t know said you should and by some miracle it actually worked out?

Absolutely not.

You were not that lucky.

One morning you woke to find Aegon in the kitchen, standing at the counter, making himself a cup of tea. He had already brewed a pot of coffee for you and there was a box of assorted pastries sitting on the table, one of which he was holding between his teeth as he poured a splash of milk into his cup. He turned to you, leaning against the counter and took a bite out of his scone.

"What's this?" You quirked an eyebrow as you studied the scene.

"A 'thank you', I s'pose," he shrugged, voice deep with residual exhaustion. He scratched at the short stubble on his chin, almost nervously, "It's been like a month since I moved in ‘ere, and, to be honest, I wasn't really expectin’ you to let me stay longer than a week."

You laughed softly and took a few steps deeper into the kitchen, taking note of how comfortable the space was with his presence in it. You couldn't ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him in this light; the way the soft, morning sun bounced off of his blonde hair like a halo. He stayed right where he was as you moved around him; his tired, blue eyes following as you grabbed your favorite mug and a spoon from the drawer.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to want to stay," you mentioned as you stood next to him and added two scoops of sugar to your cup. Your eyes flickered up to meet his stare, which was so blue you might as well have been looking up at the sky itself. "We're basically strangers."

"I wouldn't say that," he shrugged, lips curling into a small smirk, and you had to stop looking at him before you spilled coffee all over yourself.

"Oh? What are we then?" You asked, feeling your cheeks warming slightly as you averted your gaze.

"Not strangers," you could hear the smirk in his tone; his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he took another bite of his pastry and pushed himself off the counter. "Besides," he added, taking a few steps towards the living room before glancing back at you. "A stranger wouldn't know your favorite bakery."

You laughed softly through your nose, realizing that your new roommate had just confessed to eavesdropping on your late-night FaceTime calls with your best friend. Not that he really had a choice—the walls were paper-thin, after all. Just two days ago, you’d mentioned how badly you were craving a chocolate croissant, but how they always seemed to sell out before you could get one. Now, as you flipped open the top of the cardboard box, your stomach sank. A sudden jolt of realization shot through you, followed by a nauseating wave of panic.

There they were.

Four chocolate croissants, neatly packed and staring back at you.

“Fuck.”

#I know this isn't what y'all wanted but it's what ya got #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #hotd #house of the dragon #modern aegon #modern!aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen

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absolutebl · 5 months ago

Text

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him.

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face. God: So how many children do you want?

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning.

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money?

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go.

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it).

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

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passionwillow · 1 month ago

Text

I think I need someone a little bit older - Dominique Luca

Thank you lovely anon for this request! I hope you enjoy. ☺️💜

Warnings: Age gap, mentions of smut. Race inclusive and plus sized reader inclusive!

-Everyone on the team was surprised Luca kept talking about you. He had his flings here and there, but you seemed to be someone he was talking about constantly.

- And it really was constantly. He was always talking about dates you guys went on, how you’re doing at your job, or sweet things you’ve done for him.

- The guys were happy he seemed to have found someone, but they were also damn curious to meet you.

- And they were more than a little surprised when Luca brought you to work one day and you looked so young.

- They didn’t think you were too young or anything like that- you’re all consenting adults. But Luca pulling a pretty thing in her mid twenties? How the hell did he do that?

- Luca had the team come over one night after work so you could get to know everyone, and you fit right into the vibes with his team. You and Chris hit it off instantly, and you knew you had a new best friend as everyone sat around in the living room, laughing and drinking.

- Street could tell you were a feisty individual, and being Street, had to try and push your buttons.

- “How’d you end up with this old man over here, huh? Can he even keep up with you?”

- Luca grinned and took the jab in good spirit, but you couldn’t help but smirk and jab right back.

- “Who’s to say I don’t have a hard time keeping up with him, hmm?”

- Your grin and twinkling eyes were enough insinuation, and Hondo was laughing his ass off as Street stared, mouth open as Luca threw his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple.

- Despite your age difference, you and Luca got along just fine, and you did in fact have a hard time keeping up with him, in more than just the bedroom.

- Luca is always finding new things for you guys to do together. New date ideas, new restaurants, anything that seemed even mildly interesting to the both of you.

- Conversation with him is constant, he loves talking to you and you love every story he tells you about work or his life.

- And he could listen to you talk all day. He’s the most attentive person you’ve met and he never strays from a conversation with you. If he knows nothing about the topic, he wants to learn more and asks all the right questions.

- There really isn’t anything in the relationship that feels off or different with your age gap. He might get a little jealous if someone closer in age to you flirts, but you brush them off so nonchalantly he has to chuckle.

- As spirited and energetic as he is, he’s like a fireball in the bedroom. Passionate, smoldering, and so attentive it’s borderline worship with him. He’s so focused and attentive to your needs, and he loves pleasuring you so much you’re always the first to need a break.

- It makes him puff up, knowing he’s still got it and can still make someone younger weak in the knees. He knows he’s fit from work, and he isn’t too concerned about his looks, but still.

- He’s someone you can explore life with and still settle down at night to relax. And it helps he’s such a damn sweetheart.

#swat x reader #swat #swat cbs #dominique luca x reader #dominique luca #dominique luca x plus sized reader

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itendtothinkalot · 6 months ago

Text

page.soobin (classic enemies to lovers)

Summary: reader just opened a cute little bookstore cafe and soobin is a loud pretentious asshole that talks loudly on his phone lol

Genre: fluffy

Characters: soobin x f!reader

Words: 3k?? i think

Completed (oneshot)

tw: soobin's an asshole but like the good kind so does it really matter

a/n: i hope this makes up for the soobin in my last story sorry lol

It had barely been a year since ‘Pages’ had opened. You had worked hard to save up enough money to open your dream bookstore/cafe. A quaint little rustic-looking bookshop right next to the hustle and bustle of Seoul. Shelves lined with your favourite books, lights dimly lit to accentuate the atmosphere, the scent of freshly brewed coffee taking up space in your lovely quiet bookstore. Pages had been your haven. A getaway from the corporate world that sucked your energy. Having a previously well-paid job, however, did you justice.

Though Pages was still new, you had already gained a few regulars who would occasionally pop in to read the latest editions of the mangas you’d specially acquired.

“Here. Especially for you, I even tabbed the best parts. Don’t skip ahead though.” You chuckled, smiling at one of your favourite customers who you befriended.

“Thanks! I’ll have the usual, by the way.” Kai said, as his eyes scanned the manga you had just passed him.

“It’s just you today? Where’s…uh…what’s his name again?” You enquired.

“Beomgyu?”

“No, the one who talks less.” You joked.

“Ah, Taehyun? He has work. C'mon now, I'm not good enough for you?”

You rolled your eyes, "I was just wondering. Taehyun was asking for a book and I finally found it!"

"I'll tell him about it. Thanks. You really are our favourite bookstore owner." Kai grinned.

"You're not getting another free drink from flattery." You rolled your eyes.

"Aw man."

"I'm kidding. The drink's on the house. The manga however is not."

"Deal!"

You nodded, turning to prepare Kai’s order when you heard the door chime once more.

Your heart sank a little as you saw Soobin walk in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face.

Soobin, the travel writer who had recently moved to town, had a knack for disrupting the peace of your beloved bookstore. He strolled up to the counter, oblivious to your internal groan.

Sure, he was good-looking. Sure, you've thought about how it would be like to be next to him calling him your boyfriend and showing him off to everyone but...dear God, did he also grind your gears.

“Morning! The usual, please,” Soobin said, leaning casually against the counter.

You forced a polite smile. “Good morning, Soobin. One iced Americano, coming right up.”

As you prepared his coffee, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of irritation and curiosity. Soobin’s presence always managed to throw your day off balance, yet there was something undeniably intriguing about him. It could’ve been his good looks or just the fact he was always talking about these wondrous travels that you’d never been on. You couldn’t decide.

Plus, he was just really hot.

“So, how’s the book coming along?” you asked, attempting small talk as you handed him his drink.

“Slowly,” he admitted with a sigh. “But this place helps. It’s got a charm that’s hard to find anywhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sincerity. “Well, I’m glad you like it here.”

He took a sip of his iced Americano, his eyes meeting yours with a teasing glint. “I do. Even if the owner is a bit of a tyrant.”

Your smile turned frosty. “Maybe if certain customers respected the rules, the owner wouldn’t have to be.”

His grin widened, unfazed. “Rules are meant to be bent a little. Keeps life interesting.”

“Interesting for you, maybe. A headache for me,” you retorted, your patience wearing thin.

“Come on, admit it. You’d miss me if I stopped coming,” Soobin said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring.

“Like a toothache,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Just try not to scare off my customers with your loud phone calls.”

“Sure,” he said with a wink, turning to find his usual spot by the window.

As you watched him settle in, your irritation simmered. Soobin had a way of getting under your skin like no one else. It was infuriating, yet there was something about his confident, carefree attitude that you couldn’t entirely dismiss. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Soobin than met the eye—but you weren’t ready to admit that just yet.

It was peaceful for the first 30 minutes of his presence. Then you heard Soobin’s atrocious ringtone blaring, shattering the calm like a sledgehammer through glass. That usually meant it was the end of your peace.

“Hello?” Soobin answered loudly, his voice carrying across the bookstore.

You clenched your fists, trying to maintain your composure. Customers glanced up from their books, their expressions mirroring your annoyance. You marched over to Soobin, who was obliviously engaged in his conversation.

“Soobin,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low yet firm. “Can you please take your call outside?”

He looked up at you, seemingly surprised by your irritation. “Just a minute, I’m almost done,” he mouthed, holding up a finger, pressing them against your lips.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him until he reluctantly stood up and moved toward the door, still talking animatedly. As he stepped outside, you let out a frustrated sigh, hoping the rest of his call would be brief.

When he finally returned, he had the audacity to smile at you as if nothing had happened. “Sorry about that. Important call.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Next time, please take it outside from the start.”

He chuckled. “You really do enjoy being a tyrant, don’t you?”

“And you really enjoy pushing my buttons,” you shot back, turning on your heel to walk away.

“Clearly.” He teased, following you further into your bookstore.

As you continued to walk away, you felt Soobin's presence lingering behind you. Despite your attempts to ignore him, his persistence was impossible to overlook. You sighed inwardly, reminding yourself that he was just a customer, albeit a particularly annoying one.

"So, what’s the special today?" Soobin asked, trying to keep up with your pace.

You stopped and turned to face him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. "It’s written on the board, Soobin. Right where it always is."

He glanced over at the board, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. "Ah, right. Guess I didn’t see it. Too busy looking at the pretty owner."

You rolled your eyes, suppressing the small smile that threatened to break through. "Flattery won’t get you free coffee, Soobin."

He laughed, the sound oddly infectious. "Worth a shot. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious despite your irritation. "What is it?"

"I’m planning a feature on hidden gems in Seoul for my next piece," he explained, his tone more serious now. "I was hoping to include Pages. Maybe do a little interview with you about the place?"

You blinked, taken aback by his request. "You want to feature Pages in your article? What’s your motive?"

He nodded. "No hidden agenda, I promise. This place has something special, and I think more people should know about it. Plus, it might bring in more customers."

The idea was tempting. Any publicity was good publicity, and if it brought more people to Pages, it would be worth it. But you couldn't shake off the feeling that Soobin had ulterior motives.

"I’ll think about it," you replied cautiously. "I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the spotlight."

He shrugged, unfazed. "No pressure. Just let me know. It could be fun."

You watched as he returned to his seat, wondering if agreeing to his proposal would be a mistake or an opportunity. Soobin was unpredictable, but maybe there was more to his offer than just another way to get under your skin.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of coffee orders, book recommendations, and the occasional chat with regulars. Kai left with a satisfied grin, promising to return with his friends. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the bookstore, you found yourself thinking about Soobin’s offer again.

Before you knew it, the day had ended, and you were locking up the store. The streets outside were quiet, a stark contrast to the busy day you’d had. As you turned to leave, you noticed a small note taped to the door.

"Think about the article. It could be great for Pages. - Soobin."

You sighed, pocketing the note. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was an opportunity to show Seoul what Pages had to offer. You decided to sleep on it, hoping a good night’s rest would bring clarity.

The next day, you woke up at the crack of dawn. A yawn escaped your lips as you rummaged through your bags for the keys to Pages.

Sighing, you entered your beloved bookstore. Humming your favorite song, you unlocked the door, inhaling the aroma of the coffee beans you had meticulously selected.

“Am I your first customer today?” You spun around to see Soobin grinning. His tall stature loomed over you, and the strong smell of his cologne filled the air. The toothy grin plastered across his face was unmistakable. He wore a large sweater that hid the muscles you remembered seeing the day the A/C broke, and he had to take off his hoodie. That had been a good day.

“We’re barely open,” you answered, your voice barely a whisper from the sudden surprise of his presence.

“Well…I just couldn’t wait to hear your answer.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Soobin, it's way too early for this kind of enthusiasm."

He laughed, the sound echoing pleasantly through the empty bookstore. "Come on, just give me a hint. Are you going to let me do the interview?"

You crossed your arms, pretending to ponder. "I still need my morning coffee to think straight."

Soobin raised an eyebrow, looking at you expectantly. "I'll make a deal with you. If you say yes, I'll buy the first ten customers their coffee today."

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "Bribery now, huh?"

"Call it incentive," he replied with a wink.

You sighed, feeling your resolve waver. "Alright, fine. We can do the interview. But if you turn this place into a circus, I'll never forgive you."

Soobin's grin widened, and he pumped his fist in victory. "Deal! I promise it'll be great."

You shook your head, amused by his excitement. "Okay, okay. Let's get started before I change my mind."

As you prepared Soobin’s usual iced Americano, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

"So, where do you want to start?" you asked, handing him his drink.

Soobin took a sip, his expression thoughtful. "How about we start with you? What inspired you to open Pages?"

"Well, it was always a dream of mine. I wanted a place where people could escape, find comfort in books, and enjoy a good cup of coffee. Leaving the corporate world was scary, but this... this feels right."

He nodded, his eyes genuinely interested. "And it shows. This place has a soul, and that’s rare."

You blushed slightly, not used to such earnest compliments from him. "Thanks?"

“Not used to compliments, I see?” Soobin teased.

“Not from you.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Don't get used to it. You're still on thin ice for all those loud phone calls."

"Fair enough," he conceded, still grinning.

"You know, you're not that annoying when you're serious," you blurted out. "Sorry, that was supposed to be a thought."

"We're getting passive-aggressive," Soobin teased.

"It was supposed to be a thought," you repeated, trying to defend yourself.

"It's quite freeing to know I've had such an effect on your life," Soobin chuckled.

"Shut up," you said, rolling your eyes.

"I'm kidding. I guess I can be quite an asshole at times, but it's only because I don't know how to act around a pretty girl."

"Stop messing around," you said, feigning annoyance, though your heartbeat was telling you otherwise. "Is any part of this even in your interview notes?" you asked, gesturing to his laptop.

"Oh, no. None of it," Soobin admitted, still grinning. "Just getting to know my favorite bookstore-slash-cafe owner. Is that a crime?"

"Of course not. What's supposed to be a crime is your lack of social etiquette." You joked.

Soobin laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guilty as charged," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But I'm willing to learn if you've got some pointers."

"Maybe walk out of the store when you have a call?" You said, raising an eyebrow.

"Right." Soobin chuckled.

"So, besides the loud phone calls and my general presence, what's your biggest pet peeve about running Pages?" Soobin asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

You thought for a moment, considering how honest you wanted to be. "I guess it would be dealing with the occasional rude customer who doesn't respect the space or the books. But honestly, most people who come in are wonderful. They get what this place is about."

Soobin nodded thoughtfully. "I can see that. This place has a certain... aura. It’s like a sanctuary."

"That's exactly what I wanted it to be," you said, smiling. "A place where people can escape and just... breathe."

"So about the...'wonderful people' you're talking about, does any of those include a travel writer?" Soobin peered.

You paused, meeting Soobin's gaze. There was a playful glint in his eyes, but you could sense a genuine curiosity beneath it. "Well," you began slowly, "there's this one travel writer who likes to test my patience."

"Is he hot?" Soobin asked.

"If you consider an ogre hot, sure." You joked.

Soobin chuckled, feigning hurt, clutching his chest. "Ouch. In my defense, testing one's patience is one of my specialties. But seriously, I hope I’m not always a nuisance."

"You have your moments," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you also bring a certain... energy to this place."

"So, is that a compliment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't get too used to it," you replied, trying to hide your amusement.

As the day progressed, you and Soobin delved into the story of Pages. You talked about the challenges you faced, the joy of seeing regulars like Kai and his friends, and the special moments that made all the hard work worth it. Soobin took notes, his demeanor professional yet warm, making you feel surprisingly at ease.

You weren't going to lie, the interview made you see Soobin in a different light. He was surprisingly sexy when he was being serious. His eyebrows would furrow when trying to get information across and his posture forward almost leaning towards you.

The way he listened so intently, his focus entirely on you, made your heart flutter more than you'd like to admit. You tried to keep your composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing attraction you felt towards him.

It wasn't your fault. You had always found him incredibly attractive albeit the loud phone calls.

By the time the first customers arrived, the interview was wrapping up. Soobin stood up, a satisfied look on his face. "I think we’ve got everything we need. Thanks for trusting me with this."

You nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Just make sure you do justice to the store."

"Don’t worry," he said, flashing that familiar grin. "I’ll make sure it's perfect."

As he retreated to his seat, you felt a renewed sense of friendship. Maybe, just maybe, Soobin wasn’t as bad as you’d initially thought. Only time would tell, but for now, you were content with the decision you’d made.

It had been a few hours since the interview. Soobin was still in his usual corner, typing away, God knows what, with a serious look on his face. Holding a cup of juice in your hands, you walked toward him and placed the glass on his table.

“I didn’t order anything,” Soobin said, looking up at you.

“It’s on the house. Too much caffeine can't be good for you,” you replied, smiling awkwardly before making your way back to the counter.

As you reached the counter, you glanced back at Soobin, who had paused his typing to take a sip of the juice. He gave you a nod of appreciation, and for a moment, you felt a sense of camaraderie that was rare with him.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of regular customers and new faces, each interaction reinforcing why you loved this place so much. As closing time approached, Soobin finally packed up his things and walked over to you.

"Thanks for the juice," he said, his tone softer than usual. "I really needed that break."

It was a moment of peace before his annoying ringtone went off. He looked up at you sheepishly.

“I’ll take it outside this time,” he chuckled, walking off.

You laughed, shaking your head, and turned your attention back to your work. Glancing to your left, you noticed the large pile of rubbish that hadn’t been thrown away. You groaned at the thought of lugging it into the alley. Pulling the large bag of rubbish out from behind the counter, you made your way to the back alley.

“Yeah. I’ve done the interview.” You heard Soobin’s voice echo from the back of the alley.

“Yeah. I think it’ll do great. The article. She’s got some solid work ethic and the cafe itself is a really good idea. Her thoughts are well articulated. The article's gonna be great.”

You smiled at the compliments, assuming he was talking about you. Your cheeks heated up from listening into the conversation. You felt bad for eavesdropping but this was precious information you could use to your advantage.

“Oh? What? The owner? Nah, she’s a little bit pretentious. What? Pretty? She's okay, I guess. She… she’s not that pretty in real life. The picture was doing her justice.”

Your smile faded instantly, your heart sinking at his words. You quickly turned back, dragging the bag of rubbish with a renewed sense of determination, refusing to let his words affect you.

As you heaved the bag into the dumpster, you couldn't help but replay Soobin's words in your mind. Anger and hurt mingled, forming a bitter taste in your mouth. You had always suspected he enjoyed pushing your buttons, but hearing such harsh comments felt like a betrayal especially after the interview where you felt like you had bonded with him.

Returning to the store, you busied yourself with closing duties, trying to shake off the sting of his remarks. You were scrubbing the counter with more force than necessary when you heard the door chime. You looked up to see Soobin, who had finished his call, walking back in.

"Everything okay?" he asked, noticing the change in your demeanor.

"Yeah, just finishing up," you replied curtly, not wanting to engage further.

Soobin frowned, sensing something was off. "Did something happen?"

“No and even if it did, what makes you think I’d confide into a loud pompous asshole?” You gritted your teeth, turning away from him, your ponytail smacking him in his face.

“Fucking he- Ouch!" He rubbed his cheeks from where your ponytail had smacked him. "What? What’s going on with you? I thought we were cool?”

"Cool?" you repeated, your voice rising in pitch. "You think we're cool after everything you've said and done?"

Soobin looked genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

“Nothing. You’re right. I’m pretentious. And maybe I’m not that attractive to you but to hear you say that to another person? Wow.”

Soobin's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Wait, you heard that?" he said, taking a step back. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it, Soobin?" you demanded, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. "Because it sounded pretty clear to me."

“You don’t understand,” Soobin said, his frustration evident.

“What don’t I understand?”

“That was my editor.”

“Okay?”

“His name’s Yeonjun. He’s a good-looking and decent guy.” He explained, even thought you were still clearly ever so clueless.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He was asking for your number. He saw the picture I took of you for the article and thought you looked cute.”

“And?” You looked at him dumbfounded.

Soobin rubbed the back of his neck, looking flustered. “Je- I- Fuck. I didn’t want him to know how cool you were.”

“What?”

“Look, you’re cute. You’re my type. You’re all kinds of pretty. But you’re also someone I kind of want to gatekeep.”

“What?”

“I can’t make this clearer even if I tried,” Soobin said, his voice softer now. “I like you, okay? I didn’t want him to get to know you because I’m selfish. I wanted you all to myself.”

Soobin's admission left you momentarily speechless. "Oh," you managed to say, your mind racing to process his words.

"Yeah, oh," Soobin echoed, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just... I don't know, being stupid and jealous."

"If it makes you feel any better, I, too, find you..." You paused, "Cute."

Soobin's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Really?" he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I always knew you had good taste."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "Don't get too full of yourself, Soobin."

He took a step closer, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, come on. Admit it. You find my charm irresistible. It’s okay, most people do."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re impossible."

"So, how about we start over?" Soobin suggested, his tone playful yet sincere. "As friends, or maybe something more. I promise I'll only annoy you half as much."

"Only half?" you teased, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

"Alright, a quarter," he conceded with a wink. "And I’ll take my phone calls outside. Most of the time."

You couldn’t help but smile at his persistence. Despite everything, there was something undeniably magnetic about Soobin. "Deal. But if you ever call me pretentious again, I won’t hesitate to throw you out of my store."

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Fair enough. But just so you know, I’ve been told my obnoxiousness is part of my charm."

"By whom?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"By people with excellent taste," he said with a smirk.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of joy and mischief. "So, you like me?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice steady now. "I like you a lot. And I'm sorry if what I said made you think otherwise."

You bit your lip, contemplating his confession. "Well, you could have just told me."

"I know," he admitted, looking down at his feet. "I guess I was scared you'd reject me or think I was just messing with you."

“Well…can you blame me? You're quite the comedian sometimes.” You chuckled.

"Y'know what I don't blame you if you did doubt me."

"Really now?"

“Yeah. I get it. I'm kind of an asshole. But it's only because I like your reactions. They're pretty, um," Soobin stopped. "Charming, I'd say."

"So you think I'm charming?" You teased.

Soobin looked up, catching the playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah, well, when you spend as much time together as we do, you pick up on things. Like how your eyes light up when the new books arrive or when Kai tells you a stupid joke, and you tilt your head back to laugh, then get self-conscious and cover your mouth as if half the cafe hasn't heard your snort."

You laughed softly, feeling the remaining tension dissipate. “Okay, maybe you do know me better than I thought. You're quite the observer, aren't you, Soobin?"

"When you're a writer like me, you tend to observe things that are...more enchanting."

"Enchanting, huh. Big pretty words don't impress me, Soobin." You teased.

"I love a challenge," Soobin replied, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. "And let's be honest, how hard can it be to impress you?"

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-irritated. "Don't get too cocky, Soobin. Just because you can string a few sentences together doesn’t mean you can charm everyone."

"Is that so?" Soobin leaned in closer, his confidence palpable. "I seem to remember you admitting you find me attractive. Sounds like I've already charmed you."

"Attractive, maybe," you shot back. "But charm? That's a stretch."

"If only you were as nice as you are an asshole," You rolled your eyes.

Soobin laughed, the sound rich and unapologetically self-assured. "Nice guys finish last, don't they?" he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "We'll see if arrogance gets you anywhere."

He shrugged, unbothered by your challenge. "It got me this far. Why change a winning strategy?"

"Winning?" you scoffed. "The game hasn't even started."

Soobin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Then consider tonight the first round. I'll pick you up at seven."

"Still assuming I’m free?" you countered, trying to maintain your composure.

"Aren't you?" Soobin's confidence faltered for a split second, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. There it was. Though, Soobin, was trying his best to look like a go-getter, the most confident man alive, he felt like he was still just a shy little boy in front of his crush.

"Actually," you said, your tone softening slightly, "I might be."

He looked at you, a bit more serious now. "Look, if you're not interested, just say so. I can handle it."

"I didn't say anything. I was just waiting for an apology. Y'know from the time you lied to your friend? Calling me pretentious? Ugly?"

"I never used the word ugly."

You raised an eyebrow. "That's what you’re focusing on? Really?"

Soobin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I admit it. I might have said some things that weren't exactly fair. It was on impulse. You do stupid shit when you like someone. I'm stupid. I'm an idiot. I don't...I've never liked someone before or asked someone out. Cut me some slack." You see his confidence being brought down by a peg every second he further explains himself. “I’m sorry.”

You chuckled, "Gosh, you really do like me, huh?"

"Fuck off. You're just as pompous as I am."

"It's a part of the charm, isn't it?"

“Sure,” Soobin said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “so, are we good now?”

You nodded, the warmth in his eyes melting the last of your anger. “Yeah, we’re good.”

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, seeming much more serious than he had been just a minute ago. “Good. Look despite, all the jokes I'm cracking, despite, how much of an asshole I've been, I actually really like you. I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend, and not as something more."

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Something more, huh? We’ll see about that.”

Soobin grinned, the mischievous spark you were used to back in his eyes. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “Okay, Mr. Talks-too-loud. Let’s finish up here and see if you can impress me over dinner.”

“Challenge accepted.”

#txt x reader #txt fic #soobin x reader #txt oneshot #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt fanfic

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fozmeadows · 1 year ago

Note

As someone who hasn't read the works of radical feminists like Simone de Beauvoir, could you explain what's wrong and what bothers you about biological essentialism? I'm curious about your opinion after reading your post on radfems (and I'd like a perspective that isn't so based on biological gender essentialism, which I honestly have a hard time moving away from because I don't understand other perspectives well). 👀

The problem with biological essentialism is that purports to answer the eternally unanswered question of nature vs nurture in a wholly one-dimensional way - ie, with biological sex as The Single Most Important Aspect Of Personhood, regardless of any other considerations - while simultaneously ignoring the fact that biological sex is not, in fact, a binary proposition. We've learned in recent decades, for instance, that intersex conditions are much more common and wide-ranging than previously thought, not because scientists have arbitrarily changed the definitions of what counts as an intersex condition, but because our understanding of hormones, chromosomes, karyotpying and other physical permutations has expanded sufficiently to merit the shift. So right away, the idea that humanity is composed of Biological Men and Biological Women with absolutely no ambiguities, overlap or middle ground simply isn't true. Inevitably, though, if you mention this, people with a vested interest in biological essentialism become immediately defensive. They'll start saying things like, oh, but that's only a tiny minority of the population, they're outliers, they don't count, as though their argument doesn't derive its claim to authority from a presumed universality. To use a well-worn example, redheads are also a tiny minority of the population, but that doesn't mean we exclude them when talking about the range of natural human hair colours. But the fact is, even if humans lacked chromosomal diversity beyond XX/XY; even if there were no cases of cis men with internal ovaries or cis women with internal testes or people with ambiguous genitalia - and let's be clear: all of these things exist - the fact is, our individual hormones are in flux throughout our lives.

There are standard ranges for estrogen and testosterone in men and women (which, again, vary according to age and some other factors), but two cis men of the same age and background could still have completely different T-counts, for instance - meaning, even the supposed universal gender factor isn't universal at all. More, while our hormones certainly play a major role in our moods and cognition, so do a ton of other genetic and bodily factors that have nothing to do with the sex we're assigned at birth - and on top of that, there's nurture: the cultural contexts in which we're raised, plus our more individual experiences of living in the world. One of the most common, everyday (and yet completely bullshit) permutations of biological essentialism comes when parents or would-be parents talk about their reasons for wanting a son or a daughter. Very often, there's a strong play to stereotypical assumptions about shared interests and personalities: I want a son to play football with me, for instance, or: I want a daughter to be my shopping buddy. But even within the most mainstream channels of cishet culture, it's understood that these hopes are not, in fact, grounded in any sort of biological certainty. The dad who wants a sporty son might be just as likely to end up with a bookworm, while the mother who wants a little princess might find herself with a tomboy. We know this, and our stories know this! For the entirety of human history - for as long as we've been writing about ourselves - we have records of parental disappointment in the failure of this child or that to embody what's expected of them, gender-wise. More than that: if biological essentialism was real - if men were only and ever One Type Of Man, and women were only and ever One Type Of Woman, with recent progressive moments the sole anonymous blip in an otherwise uniform historical standard - then why is there so much disparity and disagreement throughout human history as to what those roles are? The general conception of women espoused in medieval France is thoroughly different to that espoused in pre-colonial Malawi, for instance, and yet we're meant to believe that there's some innate Gender Template guiding all human beings to behave in accordance with a set, immutable biological binary? And that's before you factor in the broad and fascinating history of trans and nonbinary people throughout history - because despite what TERFs and conservative alarmists have to say on the matter, our records of trans people, and of societies in which various trans and nonbinary identities were widely understood (if not always accepted), are ancient. We know about trans priestesses from thousands of years before Christ; the Talmud has terms describing eight different genders, and those are just two examples. All over the world, all throughout history, different cultures have developed radically different concepts of femininity and masculinity, to say nothing of designations outside of, overlapping with or in between those categories - socially, legally, behaviourally, sexually - and yet we're meant to believe that biology is at all times nudging us towards a set, ideal gender template? There's a lot more I could say, but ultimately, the point is this: people are different. While some aspects of our personhood are inevitably influenced by genetics, hormones, chromosomes and other biological factors, we're also creatures of culture and change and interpersonal experience. The idea that men and women are fundamentally different, even diametrically opposed, at a biological level - that the major separator in terms of our personalities and interests isn't culture, upbringing and personal taste, but what's between our legs - is just... so reductive, and so inaccurate.

We can absolutely have common experiences on the basis of a shared gender, but gender is not the only possible axis of commonality between two people, let alone the most salient one at all times, and the idea that we're all born on one side of an immutable biological equation that cannot possibly be transcended makes me feel insane. According to modern biological essentialism, intersex, trans and nonbinary people are either monstrous, mistakes or imaginary; all men are fundamentally predisposed to violence, all women are designed for motherhood, and we're meant to just hew to our designated places - which, conveniently, tend to echo a very specific form of Christian ideology, but which in any case manifestly fail to account for how variedly gender has been presented throughout history. It's nuts.

#foz answers things #gender #feminism #biological essentialism #history #sociology

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theresattrpgforthat · 6 months ago

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Hey there, big fun of your recommendations so far! I have a request to make if that's alright:

I have recently come across Godkiller, which introduced me to the concept of duet games, as in, games specifically designed for a one player one GM dynamic. I'm aware that almost any ttrpg can be played as a duet, but do you have any more examples of games designed with that play style in mind?

Thank you!

THEME: Duet Games

Hello friend, so I'm going to link my Duet Games tag for you t peruse at your leisure, before I add more games to this list. Some of the games here might allow for more than two players, but I hope this plus the tag gives you enough options to look through!

Godspark, by M.Allen Hall.

Godspark is a tabletop adventure game for one or two players. You will explore Ruina Dei, a graveyard of the gods, searching the bodies of fallen deities for the godsparks (fragments of divine power) that allow you to stay alive. With enough godsparks, you can perform miracles, the magics of Ruina Dei. With enough godsparks, you might be able to Ascend and leave this place forever.

If you liked the vibes of Godkiller, you might also like Godspark - in fact, you might be able to attach the two games in regards to setting, placing Godspark as the sequel to Godkiller! The game uses a deck of playing cards, which I assume help you generate locations or details as you play. The game is also designed to be played solo, so I’m not sure if the two-player mode has both of you play characters, or if it sets up one person to have more of a GM role. If you want a game about resistance against heaven, definitely check out Godspark.

Haunting, by Arcane Atlas Games.

Haunting is a two player game about a sentient House that wants to devour its Occupants.

During play, the players will work together to create their story, documenting the time that the Occupant spends living in the House and telling the tale of how the House will inevitably becomes vacant once more.

The House is waiting…

One of you is the House, angry and unchanging, wanting nothing more than to eat anyone who dares live inside it. One of you is a cast of Occupants, who move in, add to and change the House, and do their best to survive the House as it changes. In between each scene, the two of you switch roles, allowing each of you to set up and react to the decisions and actions of the other. After three scenes, the game ends. Haunting uses drawing as a way to navigate the House and the changes that happen to it. It also includes a list of traits that you can pick from to create your House, as well as rooms, various kinds of occupants, as well as examples of play. If you want a comprehensive, spooky experience, I recommend Haunting.

Conflict of Interest, by barclay travis.

In a line of work that values separation of the mind and the heart, the brains and the brawn, you have found it within yourselves to, perhaps ill-advisedly, merge the two. Not necessarily in the moments where you’ve got a gun in your hand and blood in your mouth, but in the moments between intense violence and adrenaline where you find calm in the company of one another.

This is a GM-less slice-of-life game for two players. You don’t need any materials to play, other than yourself and someone you trust.

Conflict of Interest is a game all about spies and forbidden relationships. Choose from a host of playbooks to describe the kind of spy you are; your relationship to your job is what defines you, and also defines how you relate to your partner. Over the course of a number of scenes, each player will use playbook moves to navigate scene prompts, following their spies through a series of hotel rooms, experiencing the intimate moments in between missions. If you want a chance to role-play through an intimate relationship with someone with the help of focused concepts, you might like this game.

Getting A Clue, by Hewie E.

A 6-page RPG about solving crimes for 2+ people where a coin flip can decide your fate. Form hypotheses, get into shootouts, and figure out who did it in Getting a Clue.

Similar to Godkiller, Getting A Clue requires one person to take on the role of The Commissioner, while the other player(s) take on the role of detectives. Success is determined by flipping a coin, and players determine their special abilities by rolling a d6 twice - once for Brains and once for Brawn. Successfully solving a case makes you more competent, and I suppose the end-game character would be one that had a 6 in both of their traits. The game also comes with worksheets that you can use to keep track of clues and assemble evidence to help you solve the mystery!

Final Broadcast, by grave snail games.

Against all predictions, the sun of your galaxy has just exploded. You have mere minutes—eight minutes and twenty seconds, specifically—before a crash of cosmic radiation boils you into space dust and destroys the galaxy. But you! You are here in a convenient broadcast tower from which you can send a message through a wormhole to places beyond your galaxy. A final transmission, telling the story of a doomed world before it all ends in fire.

FINAL BROADCAST is a very short improvisational storytelling game in which you transmit a final message as the galaxy is consumed by solar flame. It was developed in a week as a submission to the The Queerness and Games Jam.

Final Broadcast works with a larger player count, but also works well for 2 players. The game involves using text from your life as well as from roll tables within the game to compose final messages, and then attempting to say your final messages before your entire galaxy burns. If you want a game that is about desperation, despair, and the last gasps of a group of people being snuffed out, you should definitely check out Final Broadcast.

The Fire Flickers Between You…., by Viditya Voleti.

The Fire Flickers Between You is a game for Two Players for around 40 Minutes, about the bond between a Pilot and Mech, and the last night they'll spend together.

One of you is a highly advanced combat mech, the other is their specialized Pilot. You two are fully in synch from completing missions, training, and spending time together.

Your platoon has lost the battle. You all must flee before enemy reinforcements arrive. The Pilot, however, proposes the two of you will set up a diversion giving the others time to escape. You both now sit around a campfire, waiting for the enemy to arrive. In these final moments, a conversation strikes up.

This game has players lighting, placing, moving, and putting out candles as you reminisce about your friendship, what it means to sacrifice yourself, and whether or not you're ready to let go of each other.

The Fire Flickers Between You uses the power of candles and and flame to describe the last moments of a duo that has bonded in a unique way; a Pilot who has lived a life full of danger and adventure, and a Mech that has absorbed the Pilot’s memories, but does not have the capacity to understand things like sacrifice or death. If you want an emotional game that allows you to review an entire life in just a few hours, I recommend The Fire Flickers Between You.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #duet games

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ophanum · 2 months ago

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Can you do a crossover between NarutoXLookism? (Loving the crossovers). Where Kakashi after retiring as Hokage dies peacefully reincarnates in a new world and in a different time. He is the son of a powerful Japanese yakuza household and only heir. Kakashi still looks the same and has the same personality. Word quickly spreads that he is a genius in everything, (he is a child genius back in his world and graduating early and being #1). Especially in the martial arts and weapons. His abilities spread in the underground world and unbeatable record (compared to the ninjas and wars and even battling an alien rabbit ahem... Kaguya this is a breeze for him) that even Tom Lee and Manager Kim are wary of him. During his childhood he met Gun from the Yamazaki family, and Gun idolizes him even calling him big brother (Kakashi is older than Gun maybe 4-6yrs age gap). Kakashi treats him like a little brother. Gun is amazed at how Kakashi learns all the martial arts with just one look (Well he is Copy Ninja Kakashi and even without the sharingan he is still a badass especially since it's not draining his body anymore plus he is a genius). That's why Gun recognize this technique in Danile and Johan because he already saw it (although Kakashi does it far better). In fact, in this world Kakashi is the original holder of the title "White Ghost" (similar to his old title "White Fang"). Gun possess this title after Kakashi left Japan without a word. No one knows his location. In fact, our beloved mask ninja just doesn't want this lifestyle and heir responsibilities decided to ditch and become a teacher again (I love the teacher trope and I wonder why they're aren't any in Lookism). He applies at J-High, and loves teasing his students especially where they try to attempt to remove his mask. Kakashi is very protective of them since some of them reminds him of his students. He will meet Gun again where Gun has mix feelings (he doesn't know if he'll be angry or happy that he saw him again after leaving without a word). At the same time, Gun will be jealous if he sees Goo taking an interest in Kakashi (he feels like the blonde is stealing him away). While Kakashi will have a headache wishing why can't he ever have normal students or why is he always in charge of babysitting kids with emotional problems.

Feel free to shorten this, I really don't know how to summarize this request hehe.

7 YEARS - ! Naruto x Lookism

ft. Reincarnated! Kakashi Hatake x Lookism

"So I started writing songs, I started writing stories, something about the glory just always seemed to bore me." - 7 years by Lukas Graham

note: Sorry this is the latest I could be with a request! I had a long hiatus and I haven't got the time. I hope this covers up for the long wait!

Kakashi Hatake had lived many lives, but none quite like this one.

Once the Copy Ninja of Konoha, the man who had seen wars, trained legends, and even held the title of Hokage, Kakashi thought he'd earned a quiet retirement. But life had other plans. He’d died peacefully, yes, but instead of reuniting with his comrades in the afterlife, he’d found himself in a new world—reborn as the heir to a powerful yakuza family in Japan.

He didn’t stay long in the household; despite his family’s immense influence, he had no interest in the criminal empire his father had built. After all, he’d seen too many shadows, fought too many battles, to find any joy in such a lifestyle. But he didn’t waste his abilities, either. He became a child prodigy in martial arts and weaponry, mastering techniques and disciplines with the same ease he once copied jutsus in Konoha. The underground world soon whispered his name—the White Ghost, the unbeatable genius of the underground, who could learn anything with a single look.

Yet none of it really mattered to him. So one day, Kakashi vanished, leaving no trace of his whereabouts.

But this world wasn’t without its curiosities. He met Gun, a sharp young fighter from the Yamazaki family, and they bonded over a shared love of martial arts. Kakashi became something of a mentor to him, even as a boy. Gun admired him deeply, calling him “big brother,” and was constantly amazed by Kakashi’s ability to master any style without a single spar. Kakashi chuckled, ruffling Gun’s hair, encouraging him with advice and showing him techniques Gun couldn’t find anywhere else. For the first time, Kakashi thought that maybe this new world wasn’t so bad.

Then one day, he left without a word.

Kakashi strolled down the hallways of J-High with his usual lazy gait, wearing his standard black mask and one eye half-lidded with an expression of perpetual boredom. His students had quickly learned he was no ordinary teacher. In fact, they didn’t know what to think of him. He was distant, playful, occasionally a little too cryptic, and seemed to know things no normal teacher should. The students couldn’t help but wonder who their mysterious, masked teacher truly was.

Some of them—Daniel, Zack, Vasco, and even Jiho—couldn’t help but notice the odd feeling they got around him, as if he was hiding something. He was always there with calm advice, an encouraging word, and a quick hand to ruffle their hair or give a comforting shoulder pat. Kakashi loved teasing them, especially when they tried (and inevitably failed) to remove his mask.

Today, he sat perched on the edge of his desk, thumbing through a novel as his students huddled together in the back, clearly plotting something.

“He never takes it off, does he?” Vasco whispered, eyeing Kakashi’s mask.

“Maybe he’s hiding something under there,” Daniel muttered, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

With a lazy glance up, Kakashi grinned beneath his mask. “You know, you’re welcome to try, but I’ve never lost this game before.”

His students groaned, but they still looked at him with that sense of awe and respect Kakashi knew well. They reminded him of his old students, and without realizing it, he’d become protective of them.

Kakashi’s calm routine at J-High was soon interrupted. One day, while he was preparing for another laid-back afternoon of teasing his students and sipping his tea, a familiar figure strode into the school—Gun.

Gun hadn’t seen his “big brother” in years, and as soon as he’d caught wind that the elusive White Ghost had resurfaced, he’d tracked Kakashi down. As he entered the classroom, Kakashi looked up, tilting his head with that signature half-smile.

“Gun,” he said, voice calm as ever, as if they’d only seen each other yesterday.

Gun’s eyes narrowed, emotions swirling beneath the surface. He hadn’t known whether to be angry or relieved, so instead, he simply replied, “Kakashi.”

The students stared, shocked and wide-eyed at the man standing before them. Gun, their Gun, had a connection to their teacher?

“What are you doing here?” Gun finally asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

“Teaching,” Kakashi replied, amusement glinting in his eye. “I thought it’d be nice to go back to simpler work after everything.”

“After everything?” Gun’s voice tightened. “You left without a word, and now you’re here teaching... high school?”

“Yes, it’s quite relaxing. Well, at least until the day you decided to drop in unannounced.” Kakashi glanced over at his students, who were utterly speechless. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class, Gun? They’ll be delighted to know I have family in town.”

Gun clenched his jaw, glaring at him. “You’re impossible, Kakashi.”

Meanwhile, the students huddled, whispering furiously. “Wait, so our teacher is, like, a legend in the underground?”

“Doesn’t this make him the original ‘White Ghost’ Gun always talks about?” Zack muttered, wide-eyed.

As the day wore on, Kakashi and Gun fell into a rhythm, with Gun oscillating between frustration and admiration, as he always had around Kakashi. But a new source of tension emerged when Goo arrived, immediately intrigued by the mysterious “White Ghost” he’d heard so much about.

Gun bristled as Goo openly admired Kakashi’s calm, enigmatic nature, even offering him his share of a particularly high-profile job. “You don’t want it? Come on, White Ghost, you’d make an amazing team with me,” Goo said, eyeing Kakashi with a wicked grin.

“Sorry, not interested,” Kakashi replied, smiling lazily. “I have enough trouble with my students.”

Gun could only watch, half-exasperated, half-amused, as Kakashi kept his usual indifferent charm. But a part of him still felt that familiar sense of awe and respect. Seeing Kakashi back in his life brought back memories, and despite his anger at Kakashi’s sudden departure all those years ago, he couldn’t deny the relief at seeing him again. Still, he wasn’t going to let Goo get too close.

In the end, Kakashi settled back into his routine, humorously balancing the world of J-High’s chaotic students and his old life in the underground. He thought he’d left the shadows behind, but with Gun and Goo hovering around, things were bound to get more interesting.

One evening, after his students had gone home and the school halls were quiet, Kakashi looked over at Gun, who had stayed behind. Gun met his gaze, arms crossed.

“So,” Gun said, smirking, “are you ever going to tell me why you left?”

Kakashi shrugged, looking out the window with that usual calm demeanor. “Guess I just wanted something new. A quieter life. I’ve earned that, don’t you think?”

Gun sighed, but his expression softened just a bit. “Maybe. But don’t think for a second I’ll go easy on you just because we’re family.”

Kakashi grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

After Kakashi’s return to Gun’s life—and his “disinterested” way of handling Goo’s advances—rumors started circulating around the underground. A mysterious, masked figure who easily rivaled Gun and Goo’s abilities had appeared, and the whispering was enough to make Goo curious beyond measure. To everyone’s surprise, Goo found himself quite taken with Kakashi’s aloof attitude and seamless skill.

It didn’t take long for Goo to start lingering around J-High.

Kakashi leaned against his desk, his attention fixed on a novel as his students filed out. A familiar, dramatic sigh filled the air, and he looked up to see Goo standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, sporting that ever-present smirk.

“Hey there, White Ghost,” Goo drawled, eyeing Kakashi up and down. “Isn’t it a shame to hide yourself away in a place like this?”

Kakashi barely glanced up from his book. “Hmm. I don’t find it particularly shameful, no.”

Undeterred, Goo strolled closer, leaning over Kakashi’s desk and dropping an elbow casually, eyeing the masked man with an eager grin. “Come on, wouldn’t you rather do something a bit more… exciting? I know a few gigs we could try out, see if you’re as good as they say.”

Kakashi tilted his head slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. “Oh? And what do they say?”

Goo grinned wider, eyes alight. “That you’re the guy Gun once idolized. The legendary White Ghost, the unbeatable martial artist… sounds like something I’d love to see for myself.” His tone dripped with challenge, his hands fidgeting, clearly itching for a fight.

Kakashi chuckled, flipping another page in his book. “It’s flattering, but I’m not interested in entertaining rumors. Besides,” he closed the book with a small smile beneath his mask, “babysitting teenagers keeps me plenty busy.”

Goo’s eyes lit up, a hint of competitive fire sparking there. “Babysitting, huh? I think I’d make a better partner than a bunch of kids, don’t you think?”

“Please, Goo,” a familiar voice interrupted, and Gun appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and a dark look in his eyes. “If anyone is Kakashi’s partner, it’s me.”

Goo’s grin only widened at the sight of Gun, always eager for a little rivalry. “Oh, come on, Gun. Maybe Kakashi wants something new. Someone more exciting, maybe?”

Gun’s jaw tightened, but Kakashi could see the subtle smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Gun wasn’t about to let Goo’s teasing get to him. “I don’t think you’d last a day with him,” Gun retorted. “Kakashi’s no ordinary fighter, Goo. Just because you’re interested doesn’t mean you can handle him.”

“Oh, really?” Goo taunted, leaning in even closer to Kakashi. “I’d love to see if that’s true. In fact, White Ghost,” he said, smirking at Kakashi, “I’d love to see what’s under that mask.”

Kakashi gave a resigned sigh, closing his book with a light flick. “Let’s get one thing clear,” he began, tone exasperated but amused. “Even if you tried, you’d never get this mask off. And besides, I don’t like choosing sides.”

Gun rolled his eyes, standing beside Kakashi with a casual air of possession. “He’s not going anywhere with you, Goo.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Goo replied with a mischievous laugh. “The White Ghost and I are bound to run into each other in a less… academic setting sooner or later.”

Kakashi chuckled, amused by the ongoing sparring match between his two “admirers.” For all his nonchalance, he could see Gun’s faint irritation at Goo’s persistent presence. Kakashi had always been fond of Gun, who reminded him of a younger version of himself, but Goo was nothing if not persistent.

“Are we done here?” Kakashi asked, looking pointedly between them. “Because I have papers to grade.”

Goo grinned, tossing him a lazy salute. “Alright, alright, White Ghost. But don’t think you’ve seen the last of me.” He glanced back at Gun with a smirk. “Better keep an eye out if you’re so worried, Gun. The underground world has plenty of room for three of us.”

Gun scoffed, but Kakashi could see the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t overestimate yourself, Goo,” he replied coolly.

With a last, playful grin, Goo finally left, and Gun turned to Kakashi, irritation still simmering in his gaze. “You’re going to let him hang around, aren’t you?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I don’t choose who wanders into my classroom, Gun.” He leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtfully at his former “little brother.” “Besides, I can take care of myself.”

Gun frowned, shifting slightly, his pride and admiration for Kakashi battling with a trace of jealousy he couldn’t quite suppress. “You don’t know how persistent Goo can be.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Kakashi replied with a chuckle. “But if you’re so worried, Gun, why don’t you stick around?”

Gun looked at him, a flash of surprise crossing his usually impassive face, and he cleared his throat, glancing away. “Maybe I will.”

With a light chuckle, Kakashi picked up his book once more. For someone who had survived wars, rival clans, and even aliens, these two were proving to be some of his greatest sources of amusement. As he settled back, he couldn’t help but wonder how long he could maintain his peace at J-High with two of the underground’s most volatile men vying for his attention.

One thing was clear: life as a teacher was anything but ordinary.

#lookism #lookism x kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake #naruto #naruto shippuden #reincarnation #reincarnated #naruto fandom #white ghost #gun park #gun #goo kim #Daniel Park #Zack Lee #vasco

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