#i've been staring at this for so long now

[tbaluver]

Have you ever heard of the belief where beauty marks are where your previous lover liked to kiss you in a past life? Could I request headcanons for the LaDS boys reaction to MC mentioning it?

Kisses From The Past- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: hihi my luv ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i apologize this took me SOO long !! this was such a cute req and it def had me looking for my beauty marks all over my body (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two were cuddling on the couch when you innocently mentioned it. He’d think for a while, his blue orbs staring right back at you softly. He’d reminisce all your past lives that he’s traveled too for you. A gentle smile would tug at his lips as he thinks about all the kisses he’s done and the beauty marks you would have all over your body.

“Yes. It’s true,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your neck. His hands softly slip inside the hem of your shirt as he reminisces about the past.

He continues his kisses lower, softly pressing his lips to each of your beauty marks as if he’s connecting them while tracing the familiar path of your skin. Then he pulls back slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You’re missing one here..but you have one here..” he murmurs, “Was someone here before me?”

You would have marks all over your body all day long with Xavier completely unaware that he was the one who marked that spot in the past.

Zayne:

When Zayne comes home and pulls you closer, you can’t help but bring it up to Zayne. He would think about it for a moment and softly shake his head, denying it. But his stance would shift the moment he sees your smile quickly turn into a pout.

“Well that’s not possible because...” he trails off, noticing the way your lips drop into a subtle frown. “I don’t need a beauty mark to remember where I loved to touch and kiss you in another lifetime.”

Although Zayne might not fully believe in the concept of past lives, a part of him believes that if it were true, he would find you again in the next one. Those memories and familiar feelings would definitely resurface, like an instinct in his soul that guides him back to you no matter how many lifetimes have passed.

Rafayel:

You would bring it up while he’s examining your face, looking for inspiration for his sculpture. The moment those words leave your lips, his face automatically lights up

He absolutely LOVES the belief that your beauty mark is a place where your previous lover loved to kiss you in your past life. To him it means that you’ve always been connected even when life pulls you two apart again. You two were meant for each other in every life and he will always always find you in each time line.

Rafayel would definitely tease you about how you only have a few “beauty marks” and how he has a lot of them. “geez you must realllyy like kissing me here..and here huh cutie?” His past life couldn’t have possibly kissed you in a few spots. There’s no way you're missing some many areas so now it’s his current life’s duty to fill in those gaps.

He’ll always leave a lingering kiss on every place on every part of your body that he thinks needs to be “revisited”, making sure he’ll keep kissing that exact same area so in the next life he’ll remember this. “Looks like I've taken care of all the spots this time....but I think you need a couple more cutie.”

Sylus:

Sylus sits up, cleaning one of his vintage guns while you’re nestled between his legs. You’re scrolling through your phone when a post about beauty marks catches your eyes. Curiosity piqued as you crawl on top of him, innocently asking, “Do you believe that beauty marks are where your previous lover liked to kiss you?

He falls quiet for a moment, his finger gently guiding your chin so you meet his gaze. He studies your face before drifting down to your body with a mischievous smirk. “Looks like you’re missing a lot then sweetie.” He murmurs, his hands roaming over your body. “I guess I’ll have to kiss every single one again and maybe more, so you’ll remember me in the next life." He whispers softly, brushing a gentle kiss across your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow and tender kiss. He pulls back just slightly, his breath warm against your lips with a teasing smirk. “But where are mine sweetie?”

Each one lingers as he continues to trail lower and lower on every surface of your skin with the hope that will leave a mark to to carry in the next life.

[captain-astors]

Finished up my attempt at Deuce within @where-does-the-heart-lie's fighting game AU! Feeling a little iffy about it but I might've just been staring at this for too damn long. Anyways thoughts, symbolism explanation, and sketches I made in the attempt bellow the cut.

Okay! So in general I worked with a rule of 2's when it came to Deuce's hearts with the exception of his camera, but that's supposed to pair with the pen with the little heart cap, I just didn't remember to keep that in my final drawings somewhere. Trying to strike a balance between "Just a guy" and "fun stylized outfit" was hard and I don't think I quite got it, but it was enjoyable nonetheless!

Heart glasses- Representative of how he loves observing the world and aspires to adventure through it. The cracked lens represents how the damage he's received from people he loved has caused him to look at others cynically at times. Meanwhile the unshattered lens sort of represents his tendency to look at those who earn his love with extreme levels of internal praise, half of Ace's first novel is just him waxing poetic about how lovely Ace is and I think that's hilarious.

Hearts on the gloves- He shows his love for the world and for people through the writing he does with his hands! But they're somewhat damaged because they've been utilized for the medicinal legacy that was forced upon him.

Heart on the camera/pen- A specific love for journalism and writing and telling a story, credits to Whery for the first one.

Spade on the shirt- Not technically a heart but it's a little play on how he keeps the Spades close to his heart/tends to be kind of pokey if you try to get close.

Spade/heart on the back of the shirt- Symbolic of the whole life-devoting love within him, so it's large, but it's kept guarded and tethered by the camera strap and can only be seen beneath a layer and if he trusts you enough to turn his back. It's mostly upside-down to look more like a heart if I'm honest, but that as well as that it's on his back and so guarded is all representative of how the family that he presumably once loved shamed and pressured him, making a sort of "weight on his back". It's spade shaped because that's who his devotion and love belongs to, but also when counted with the other one, Deuce!

One of my scrapped ideas was having the coat be a doctor's coat with the only hearts on it being scorched edges because something something fire set him free but he still uses his medicinal abilities to benefit people in his new life, but I couldn't get it to look right so I went with the summery looking thing he's wearing now. It's fine but it kind of lacks a personality, I think that's the main thing I'd try to revise if I redid this but I've already overthought it to hell so. Another day.

Ace in Dr. Robotnik's outfit from the sonic movie is there for facial reference and emotional support I guess, I made that a while ago.

And in one last vaguely related tangent, yours truly has a very distinctly heart-shaped birthmark on my foot. It symbolizes that I'm tired. (Jokes aside I think it's cool, afab actually stood for Assigned Fighting game character At Birth)

[abouttocommitarson]

The villan heard the laughter before it abruptly stopped. She glanced up and saw... hero? The villan had never thought she would see hero again. Ok okokokokokokkokokok try not to panic, just act normal the villan told herself. The hero while this was happening had stopped dead in her track and was staring at the villan mouth agape. The rest of the gaggle of 20-somethings around her were glancing at the hero trying to figure out who she was staring at. villan told herself ok um just ignore hero surely she'll think she's seeing things or something, I look a lot different since we last fought. Besides I'm supposed to be dead. One of heros friends shook a hand in front of her face,

"Hello? Hero? Anyone in there?" He said knocking on heros forehead

"Huh? Oh yeah I'm fine," hero said with a nervous laugh, and tried to wrench their gaze away from the woman at the bar she seemed so familiar but hero couldn't place her face "just, y'know"

"Because you're not telling me I really don't know but ok" responded heros friendwith a smirk.

Throughout the night hero kept glancing at villan and her friends kept nudging her and whispering at her villan had noticed. Her plan was to get drunk so she would forget this had happened and then call a cab to get home. She had avoided this for so long! She had faked her own death-quite convincingly she thought, moved to a different city, made a new identity, and cut contact with anyone from her past life and STILL the hero had found her, the villan scolded herself. What comes next? Police banging on her door? Going to court? Prison? She supposed she signed up for this when she chose the life of crime but she had grown since then! She'd changed! She was no longer a bloodthirsty criminal trying to destroy a city she had a nice apartment a working car and a cat life was going well. Well, she laughed to herself good things never last forever.

"What'cha laughing about?" Came a voice from next to her, villan glanced up and had it not been for her already very pale complexion she would have gone white as a ghost. Hero had sat down next to her and was trying to make small talk.

"So uh how's your week been? Whats your name?" Hero was shitty at small talk and she knew it but was she this bad? The woman she sat next to was only a few years older then her at most and was staring at her like she just said that she liked homework, a mix of horror, confusion and fear. "Aaaaaaare you gonna respond or just stare at me like I'm a zoo exhibit?"

"Um sorry I just... do we know eachother?" Villan blurted, she didn't mean to, but she desperately needed to know if hero could recognise her. It sounded quite rude after she said it, but too late now she guessed.

I've lost motivation for this a bit, might come back later. If you guys like it. Please be nice I haven't written any storys since last February. Feedback and ideas welcome! Thanks

Edit: for those who were asking to be tagged in any and all stroys based of this prompt: @axxolotlqueen @lillysys @randomness20117

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

[pedroscurls]

his girl (one-shot)

summary: logan didn't think he'd ever get a second chance at making his life matter nor did he think he even deserved it... but then he met you. his girl.

pairing: logan howlett [worst wolverine] x fem!reader content warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), light angst (mentions of death, logan has some insecurities - doesn't believe he deserves you 🥺), all the fluff!, no use of y/n. word count: 1.4k a/n: part of KLLOVEUARY 2025 challenge hosted by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt ♥️. this song and this character just fits so well and i'm so glad that i chose option 2. at first, i didn't know which route i wanted to take, but let's be honest... worst wolverine has to have some bit of angst right? hope y'all enjoy - i had a blast writing this! thank you kiwi and kristen for hosting this challenge <3 song: my girl by the temptations

Logan had met you over about six months ago when you moved in across the hall. He bumped into you on his way out one morning and you had looked at him with the most gentle and inviting eyes that simply radiated warmth. Even when you smiled at him, he couldn’t help but notice the way the corners of your eyes crinkled. Under your gaze, he felt protected, felt safe, felt at peace. You looked at him like he was the only person in the world, like no one else mattered. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he didn’t like feeling this way. How his heart began to race even faster just at the mere sight of your eyes meeting his. Or how he felt this sudden urge to get to know you, to make you his. 

Even though he’s been in this universe for a year now, it still feels so new to him and he’s still battling with himself whether or not he belongs here, but you… You gave him hope. 

Something that he thought he lost a long time ago. 

And even now, you still look at him with the same kind eyes and he still feels that same warmth radiate through his entire body. There’s a sparkle in your eye whenever you gaze at him and even during Wade’s family dinner parties, you always make an effort to make sure that he knows you see him. 

Tonight is no different, though. Wade’s entertaining his guests and Logan's sitting on the couch with a beer in hand while you speak with Vanessa. Even through your conversation with her, your eyes flit over to Logan’s who keeps his gaze on you. It makes you blush, the way his eyes make you feel like you’re the only person in the room. You both give each other a small smile before looking away. 

“How about some music, hm?” Vanessa says, leading you towards the music player and pressing play. She smiles instantly, arms raising up in the air as her body sways to the beat of the song.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way?

Slowly, you dare to look at Logan who’s already looking at you. You can see the way his hand grips the neck of the beer bottle, unbothered by Wade and Vanessa who begin to dance in the middle of the living room among the other guests he has over. Instead, he’s staring at you as you lean against the wall. 

My girl, my girl, my girl Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl

Logan sees the corners of your lips turn upwards, sees the crinkles at the corner of your eyes begin to form, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Everyone else seems to fade in the background until all he can see is you. His girl. 

I've got so much honey, the bees envy me I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees Well, I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way?

You bite your lower lip and turn on your heel, disappearing down the dim-lit hallway. Logan sets his beer on the coffee table before he begins making his way to you. For once, he doesn’t want to hide the way he’s feeling. You give him hope, give him the confidence he never knew he had. He gently reaches out for you and you turn around, eyes gazing up at him. Logan lets out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. You stare up at him, the song filtering down the hallway you both are standing in as he gently reaches up to tuck a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear. His mouth parts when he feels you lean into his touch. 

“Were you gonna stand in that corner all night starin’ at me, bub?” he whispers quietly, loud enough for only you to hear. 

“I’d stand there all night waiting for you, Logan,” you respond. You part your own lips, feeling his thumb shakily brush along your lower lip. “I think we both know that.”

My girl, my girl, my girl Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl

“You realize what you do to me?” he asks. “The way you look at me…” Logan steps closer to you when he feels your own hand move to his chest, nimble fingers playing with the buttons. “I’m not a good man, bub. I’m the–”

“Worst Wolverine,” you finish for him. “Yeah, I know. You and Wade like to remind me.” 

“It’s true.” 

“All I see is a man who’s trying to make things better,” you reply. “Trying to make his life better with the second chance he’s been given.” 

“I don’t deserve you,” he sighs, eyes and hand dropping momentarily.

“That your opinion?” 

“Just statin’ facts, sweetheart.” 

Then, he lets out a quiet gasp when he feels your hand come up to rest on his cheek. He looks at you, his eyes searching your own. Logan feels his pulse quicken at your touch—the way your thumb brushes across his jawline, soft and delicate, tender and light, gentle and grounding. 

He shuts his eyes and for a moment, all he can see are the people he failed in his old universe—dead and all because of him. It shakes him to his core; he can’t run away from his past, can’t run away from the terrible things he’s done. 

But then you say his name and it brings him back to reality. It dispels all of the inner demons that always keeps him up at night. He no longer sees his old universe. All he can see, all he can feel is you. 

“Logan,” you repeat quietly. 

When he opens his eyes, he’s greeted with your own. So kind and warm, soft and inviting. You were his peace. You were his second chance. 

You were his girl. 

“Yeah, bub?” he finally answers, voice shaky. 

“You’ve got me,” you whisper. “You’ll always have me.” 

“But–”

You shake your head and click your tongue, interrupting him. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

He lets out a breath and slowly leans forward until his forehead lightly touches your own. He brushes his nose against your own as he hears you inhale sharply. Slowly, Logan’s arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against him as your arms wrap around his shoulders. He feels safe—here in your arms, is where he belongs. 

My girl, my girl, my girl Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl

The song continues as both you and Logan stare into each other’s eyes, swaying side to side in each other’s arms. His eyes fall shut briefly when he feels your lips press against his cheek and his hold on you tightens even further. Nothing and no one else mattered. All he needed was you. All he ever needed was you.

His girl. 

Logan pulls back to look down at you, lips inches from each other. You lean in slowly, hands playing with the hair at his nape. 

Until Wade turns on the light to the hallway and begins clapping loudly, breaking you and Logan out of the moment.

“Fucking finally!” he exclaims with a grin. “Told y’all it would work. Am I the best cupid or what?”

Logan keeps his arm around you as he looks at Wade from the end of the hallway. He narrows his eyes and then glances down in your direction. You’re smiling, lower lip pulled between your teeth as you bury your face against the side of his neck. His own lips form into a small smile and he gently presses a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Wanna get outta here?” he whispers into your ear. 

“I hear my apartment is not that far from here,” you tease. 

Logan smiles. “Lead the way, baby.” 

You take his hand, lace your fingers with his own immediately, and lead him down the hallway past Wade and towards the front door. Logan looks at Wade and gives him one nod—an unspoken gesture of gratitude that has Wade jumping up and down in excitement. 

When you both finally leave Wade’s apartment to go to your own across the hall, Wade lets out a contented sigh and brings his hands to his chest. “I just love love.” 

And Logan can’t help but keep you close to him, the song playing on repeat in his mind. 

My girl, my girl, my girl Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[makeitmakesomesense]

Starry Night

Natasha Romanoff x Jealous!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Day 10: I've merged a very fun request from a lovely anon with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 10th of January, which is 'religion'.

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Your linked hands swung absentmindedly in the space between you. 

Natasha’s head tilted as she observed the painting.

After a moment, you felt her attention inevitably turn back to you. You tried to focus on the brushstrokes, the colours, something. At least this one wasn’t about religion.

‘What do you think?’ She prompted.

‘I like the stars.’ You said carefully.

Natasha’s lip twitched. 

‘That’s good. Given it’s A Starry Night.’ She rasped dryly.

You nodded, pretending to keep staring at the painting. Natasha brought your hand to her lips and held it there for a moment. 

Your focus turned readily  to her. It was much more enjoyable anyway, watching her look at the paintings.

‘What do you think?’ 

Natasha glanced back at you. Her eyes crinkled with a more hesitant smile.

‘I love it.’ She admitted. 

You leaned forward and kissed her cheek, ignoring the bustling crowds of tourists around you.

You stayed together, lost in the tiny moment, until a short woman elbowed her way in front of you to take a photo of the painting. 

Natasha’s eyes were full of mirth as she pulled you back to the centre of the room. Her arms snaked around your waist as she stood behind you. 

‘What do you want to look at next?’ She asked softly, her head resting on your shoulder.

You chewed your lip and tried to decide. The paintings all looked the same to you. 

This trip was already perfect without the art. It had been Natasha’s idea. A tentative gift for your one year anniversary. A long weekend spent in Paris. 

It was strange to live, for even the briefest of moments, as if you weren’t part of the Avengers team. Your life had become something unrecognisable in the time that you’d been part of it.

Now, here in Paris, you’d never seen Natasha so relaxed, so completely herself. 

The very first evening, she’d disappeared out of the apartment almost as soon as you’d set your luggage down. She’d returned within minutes, holding all the components for a charcuterie board and a bottle of ridiculously expensive wine.

You’d wanted to unpack and get organised after the long flight but Natasha had insisted that you join her on the balcony. You’d sat together for hours, sharing food and drink and staring out at a nighttime view that didn’t seem real.

You’d understood the magic then. Slow kisses that heated the chilled night air. The sparkling lights of the city reflected back in Natasha’s eyes.

Nothing in any gallery could beat that. 

‘You choose.’ You told Natasha, leaning back in her arms as you surveyed the gallery room. ‘I always like your choices best anyway.’

Natasha hummed to herself, trying to decide. You let yourself focus only on her. The constant thrum of people wandering around the room created an almost overwhelming level of background noise. 

At last, Natasha nodded over to another painting, one with two women watching each other in bed. 

You smiled before you could help it, remembering that morning. 

‘Okay.’ You agreed. 

Suddenly, you felt Natasha stiffen behind you. Then, after a moment, you felt her purposefully relax. You were immediately on high alert. You scanned the room with a new intention, trying your best to identify any threat. 

Your attention caught immediately on a woman across the room. Her stare was entirely focused on your girlfriend. 

‘Is everything okay?’ You asked tensely, staring at the woman whose focus refused to flicker from Natasha’s face. 

Natasha moved easily from behind you to by your side. She looked distracted but her smile was reassuring.  

‘Yes.’ She promised. ‘I know her. Let me go say hello.’

You watched her walk away from you over to the strange woman. The beautiful Parisian woman. The upsettingly beautiful Parisian woman. 

You watched Natasha kiss her cheeks and hug her. You watched their obvious delight at reconnecting. You watched the disgustingly beautiful Parisian woman reach up to touch a piece of Natasha’s hair, you watched her mouth form a comment about its new length and colour. You watched Natasha smile shyly. 

You felt small and then you felt angry. You felt an instinct lock your body in place.

It took a minute for Natasha to look over to you. She took a few steps back in your direction, not quite closing the distance. 

‘There’s this wine.’ She started, clearly excited. ‘I’ve been looking for it all weekend. Elodie knows this place that sells it. It’s right around the corner’

You kept your expression neutral. You hated that Elodie was obviously looking over at you. 

‘Do you mind if we-?’ Natasha trailed off, gesturing between herself and the woman who you were going to make a voodoo doll of later. 

You nodded, throat tight. 

Natasha kissed your cheek.

‘Stay, enjoy the art. I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.’ She promised, an excited glint in her eye. 

You watched Natasha’s hand brush Elodie’s back as they walked out together. 

When you were finally alone in a sea of strangers, you let the feelings wash over you in quick succession. 

Jealousy. Hurt. Anger. 

Your fingernails dug into your palm as the feelings simmered. 

Who the fuck was Elodie?

You walked blindly past the remaining masterpieces and headed for the exit.

Natasha caught a hold of you in the foyer. She looked startled to see you there. 

She nodded back to the endless gallery rooms and gave you a curious smile. 

‘Have you seen it all already?’ She teased lightly.

‘Mmhm’ You hummed tightly. ‘Let’s go back to the apartment.’

Your sharp tone set off the first alarm bells. You watched the realisation dawn on Natasha’s face, the slight widening of her eyes. 

You didn’t give her a chance to speak. You walked out the building and headed towards your apartment. 

Natasha kept pace at your side. You could feel her nervous glances towards you. Her hesitating indecision to say something. 

Something about your stony expression kept her quiet.

By the time you’d reached the apartment, after climbing the endless winding staircase inside the building’s courtyard, the unspoken tension was almost at a boiling point. 

Natasha’s tote bag clinked occasionally as her new purchase bumped against her keys. Your jaw tightened every time you heard it.

You opened the door and walked straight to the kitchenette. Natasha followed cautiously behind you.

It occurred to you then that you’d never had a proper fight before. Never had a reason to be really angry. More than a year had gone by in relative peace. 

Until Elodie. 

You opened the fridge door violently and pulled out the ingredients for lunch automatically. 

You could feel Natasha hovering in your blind spot. 

You hooked a dining chair with your foot and pulled it out from the table.

‘Sit.’ You directed tightly. ‘I’ll make us some lunch.’

Natasha sat with the obedience of a hostage victim. 

You arranged the jars of beurre de cacahuètes and confiture next to the wooden chopping board and placed the bread that Natasha had bought fresh that morning on top of it. You yanked open the cutlery drawer and retrieved the large bread knife.

You felt Natasha wince behind you. You ignored her as you started sawing at the bread.

‘So.’ You said loudly. ‘How do you know Elodie?’

Natasha’s hesitation this time was blatant.

‘Uh.’ You heard her stall for time. You sawed quickly through your first slice and tossed it onto the waiting plate. ‘From a long time ago.’

‘Mmhm.’ You hummed again, eyes trained on the moving knife. ‘And you knew each other well.’

You didn’t frame it as a question but Natasha answered anyway.

‘...Yes.’

‘Very well.’ You said under your breath, tossing another brutalised slice of bread onto the plate. 

‘...Yes.’ Natasha said with obvious alarm as you began to hack at the loaf again. 

‘Lucky Elodie.’ You muttered bitterly. ‘I bet you’ve got wonderful memories of Paris together. Did you drink that wine on a balcony with her? What sort of name is Elodie anyway? I mean that’s practically too French. I mean come on. It’s like a Russian girl being called-’

‘Natasha.’ Natasha supplied.

You kept moving your knife thoughtlessly. 

‘Exactly. Whatever.’ You cut yourself off into abrupt silence as you stewed internally on things you really shouldn’t say aloud.

‘Y/N.’ Natasha called out carefully.

‘What?’ You snapped.

‘Love. You’re sawing the chopping board in half.’ You froze and stared down at the small pile of sawdust mixing with the breadcrumbs. You yanked the knife abruptly out of the wooden board and placed it down on top of it. You stared for a long moment at the counter. You couldn’t escape the truth of it. The fear that ached behind everything.

‘Did you take her to see those paintings before?’ You asked at last in a small voice. ‘Before me?’

‘Love.’ Natasha said quietly again in a low voice that always made your insides go warm. You heard her move closer and felt her arms wrap around you, tentatively. You let your back press against her.

‘Before you.’ She murmured slowly, and you felt each word vibrate through you. ‘I know it’s not that simple. But before you nothing really mattered.’

Her lips touched your neck and you let your eyes close. You thought about her and you. About the 400 nights you’d spent together. About the sleepy mornings and the date nights and the future plans. 

You thought about the painting you’d seen of the two women watching each other in bed.

‘Before you.’ Natasha whispered again. ‘There was art and good food and fancy wine.’ Natasha’s hand trailed lightly down your front and the back up. Your head tilted back and Natasha dragged her finger along your exposed neck. 

You thought about the starry night reflected back to you in Natasha’s eyes. 

Your body shuddered as Natasha’s fingernails tapped gently over your trachea.

All you could hear were her soft breaths and your shallow ones.  ‘Before you. I wasn’t me.’

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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

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[thanklessindubai]

Armand had been keeping it together admirably, but when Mina put the ring on his finger, he quickly became a mess, crying blood tears.

Renaday tried not to be distracted at the sight of it. Tried to roll with it. But he would be staring for a second.

Armand squeezed Mina's hands, shaking. Sobbing through it.

"Mina, my love. As you know by now, I am not one accustomed to... confession. The truth does not pass through me to others like light through a glass. I have my doors. Built to protect me from the memories of a painful past. But instead of turning away at the challenge, or reeling back in horror at the revelation of my darkness, you have forced me open. Killing the sickness of all I've hidden with healing light. And now, I stand before you. Happiness beaming though. With perfect love and perfect trust."

He took the ring out of his pocket.

"Five hundred years, almost exactly, since this ring was placed upon my finger. And since that day, I've been counting the hours -- four million, three-hundred and eighty-four thousand, one-hundred and ninety. Just as he'd asked me to so long ago, I have counted them, though I knew not why. I couldn't know what I was waiting for."

He placed the ring on Mina's finger and held her hands again.

"Put me in your pocket, Mina. Wherever you're going, take me with you."

when he shushed her, Mina whispered "Oh. of course" and straightened up her act.

but when Renaday went off script from the usual wedding lines, Mina gave Armand a side eye but didn't push it. Not at thier wedding. She'd poke him about it later

When it was her time to give vows, Mina froze for just a second and then just spoke from the heart, "Armand.....it's been such an unpredictable few days. And I haven't been perfect...but you saved me. You made me feel seen. You look at me and I feel beautiful. You've given me my life and I feel like there's so little I can give you in return."

She went to take his hand and slide his ring on his finger; it fit perfectly "Armand....I give you this ring, my love, my heart, my name, my body and blood. It seems so little but it's all I have. Everything in this world and the next I share with you. Side by side as equals; Armand Harker and Mina. I love you so much. I've not loved anyone the way I'm in love with you."

Not even Jonathan, that love had been different.

"And tonight we will shed our previous selves, we will become new with each other."

[nonphoto-blue]

Lucky Lucky ꕤ Cho Hyun-ju x Reader [1/?]

Read on AO3 Masterlist Summary: After your previous manager runs away to America with the funds meant to kickstart your debut, your band 4tune is left to pick up the pieces in an impending scandal. The new manager, Cho Hyun-ju, says she’ll do everything to ensure your debut is successful, but it’s a long road until she gains your trust, especially when her own secrets come to light. Or, the kpop/krock/band AU no one asked for.

Warnings: Slowwwww burn. Kind of an inherent power imbalance but reader isn't taking bs from anyone, and reader is 20+. Reader is AFAB and uses she/her. She's implied to be Korean/from South Korea but no physical description is used.

A/N: So I've had the horrible idea of a kpop au for Squid Game since the first season came out. Originally I'd thought of a Sangwoo x Reader fic but it felt in bad taste at the time. Season 2 came out and I can't stop thinking about Hyun-ju so uh. You're getting this.

Five years. You’ve been in trainee hell for five years, learning the ins and outs of PR, songwriting, language, appearances, how to fucking smile at a camera when all you wanted to do was sing and play guitar and look out at a crowd with more people than you can count on your hands. All for your dreams to be stolen away, packed up in bags and expedite-shipped to the United States. 

If you could go back in time to tell your past self to save herself the trouble and give up music altogether, you’d consider it. Or at least tell her to flip off the agency scout the second he approaches. Sure, you’d still be busking on the street, but you’d be spared this bullshit and continue life with hope still. You don’t want to be an idol. You want to be– you are a musician, and the evidence was going to be your debut.

Your band, 4tune, is slated to record your debut in a month, and begin promotions just a couple months from now, but thanks to your no-good-money-stealing-piece-of-shit ex-manager, the money set aside for appearances and advertising is no longer in the company’s bank account. With grim faces, you, your bandmates, and a few members of the company higher ups gather around a table in an emergency meeting.

“It’s ridiculous,” Se-mi crosses her arms across her chest, huffing her bangs out of her eyes. “What a coward.” She stands, crossing to a floor-length window and staring at the skyline of Mapo-gu, disbelief written on her face. 

Your mouth forms a thin line. “Who just… takes the money and runs? How was he allowed to take all of it anyway?”

“That’s all we know,” the CEO, Hwang In-ho, murmurs. He laces his fingers together and scans the rest of the band’s faces as you take in the not-quite-death-sentence he delivered your group. “We’ve got the police in South Korea and the United States investigating, but they haven’t found him yet.”

“So what does this mean for 4tune? I mean, are we… still going to debut?” Young-mi asks. 

“We don’t have a manager, we don’t have money, we don’t have a debut.” Jun-hee puts a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes in exasperation. 

“Actually,” In-ho raises a finger. “We do have a new manager for you. She couldn’t make this meeting, but she’s coming up from Busan after lunch. You’ll meet her tonight or tomorrow.” He leans forward in his seat, and rests both arms on the table in front of him. “Rest assured, you will debut.”

You can’t help but feel your lips curl into a sneer. A new manager? Who’s to say this one won’t make off with whatever scraps of money are left? You hear Se-mi scoff from the window, her thoughts echoing your own. Jun-hee looks hesitant, but Young-mi looks up at In-ho with hope.

“What’s her name? What’s she like?”

“Cho Hyun-ju. She’s an old acquaintance.” Looking over the group’s faces, In-ho stands, and begins to make his way to the meeting room door. “I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a good person.” Hardly glowing praise, but you suppose anyone would be better than the ex-manager. The other company members follow In-ho out of the room, meeting adjourned, leaving just your group members with their thoughts.

Your gaze lingers on the frosted glass door they left from. “Great. A manager, but no money. She can drive us around and shit, but we have nowhere to go. What’s the point?” Your words are bitter, spat in sorrowful resignation. 

Young-mi, ever the optimist, takes your hand in her’s. “Let’s give her a chance. In-ho sajangnim vouched for her, I say we see how she clicks with us before giving up on her.” She smiles meekly at the other members. None of you share her optimism, but with a shared side eye, the rest of you begrudgingly hear Young-mi out and agree.

“Fine,” you offer. “But if she does anything remotely shady I’m clawing my way out of this contract.” ꕤ

Despite the sudden wrench in 4tune’s future plans, you all have a schedule to uphold, so you go through the motions as if nothing was wrong. After a short break for lunch, language classes, pose training, you finally make it to the only part of training that doesn’t feel like a chore: rehearsal as a whole band. 

The rehearsal space is intimate; a small room with warm wood-panel flooring and a three-person couch in the corner. Se-mi’s drum kit is already set up on the drum rug, as is Young-mi’s keyboard and three amps, one for Young-mi’s bass, one for Jun-hee’s guitar, and one for yours, as well as a vocal mic on a long arm. Stepping into the space brings an energy you thought would be lost following this morning’s bad news, and you place your guitar’s hard case down with a determined vigor.

You unlatch the case, and pull out your guitar, a Fender Lite Ash Telecaster. The strap rests perfectly on your shoulder, the neck fitting perfectly in your left hand, a guitar pick in your right. The quarter-inch cable plugs into your guitar with a satisfying click and the amp hums to life when you switch it on. You set upon tuning your guitar, but it doesn’t take much adjustment for any member of the band, and soon your group is playing the first notes of what will be your title track for your debut.

It’s an upbeat song, and the lyrics are inherently hopeful and optimistic. You feel the stress pouring out of you as you hear how well the band plays together. From the wailing of Jun-hee’s guitar, to the machine-like precision of Se-mi’s drumming, to the effortless jumping from keys to bass by Young-mi, pride fills your heart knowing that you’re collaborating, and creating something beautiful in spite of everything going wrong.

You play rhythm guitar and sing. Closing your eyes, you pour your heart and soul into the high-energy chorus, the softer verses, and everything in between. As the outro plays out and you all play your final notes, a soft applause that crescendos into a quick flurry of claps breaks through your reverie. 

You hadn’t noticed when she came in, but at the door stands an unfamiliar woman. She’s tall, and seems a bit younger than In-ho. Her hair is cut at her shoulders with blunt bangs reaching her eyebrows. She’s dressed well, and she’s not standing timidly per-se, but there’s an awkwardness to how she holds herself, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed in this space.

“I’m sorry,” she smiles at the band. “I was told you were in this practice room and I heard you playing. You all sound amazing.”

Young-mi smiles back. “You must be the new manager! It’s nice to meet you! I’m-”

“Young-mi, right?” Young-mi nods. The woman turns to the drumset, “You’re Se-mi,” to the lead guitarist, “and Jun-hee,” and then she turns to you, and says your name so tenderly, so kindly, every fiber of your being is shouting at you to give her a chance. “And yes, I’m Cho Hyun-ju, your new manager.” ꕤ

Rehearsal stagnates after Hyun-ju’s arrival as the band seems more interested in the new arrival than playing, but you keep your guitar plugged in and guitar strap on. Young-mi puts down her bass and steps away from her keyboard to approach Hyun-ju immediately, Jun-hee following soon after. You pluck out a few notes here and there, trying to at least try to get through your part of the next song, but after Se-mi stands up from her drumset, you give up trying to continue rehearsal.

Hyun-ju seated herself on the couch in the corner. Jun-hee and Se-mi stand in front of her, and Young-mi sits beside her. “I’m excited to work with you all,” Hyun-ju half-bows in her seat. “You sounded amazing playing just now, your debut will be a hit, I can just feel it.”

“We’re happy to have you here too. I’m sure you’ve heard but our last manager flaked out on us.” Se-mi explains. Hyun-ju hums a condolence, eyes casting down to the ground. “We’re almost ready to record our album, so I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do coming up.”

You clear your throat, walking over to the group. “What experience do you have managing?” You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does. It’s supposed to be a light conversation about her work history, not an interrogation into her credentials. Hyun-ju’s face falters at the stern tone, and you kick yourself internally.

“Managing specifically, I've done most of the tasks individually before. That is, things like schedule management and driving and the like. I do have experience in the music and idol industry outside of management.”

You try to school your expression, you really do, and you pull your lips into a not-quite-smile that ends up looking more like a grimace. “Well then,” you push out, “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎRose Blush౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: fake dating pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: been awhile since I've done a coryo fic hehe hope you enjoy <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Coriolanus stifled a yawn, forcing himself to stare at the sheet of paper in front of him. The words were blurring into each other, and he wasn't even sure what class he was in anymore.

The girl he'd taken out last night had been talkative to say the least. The servers at the restaurant had begun to clean up around them until Coriolanus had finally stood up and practically announced that he had an early morning and so they should call it a night.

She'd been fine with it, but when they had pulled up outside her house and he bid her farewell, she'd talked for another hour. It was midnight by the time he got home. Even know he could hear her voice grating at the insides of his mind. It was decidedly hard to focus.

At least she didn't attend the university. He wasn't sure if he could stand seeing her around here after that disaster of a night. It was the seventh in a lineup of women he'd been propositioned to take out. Old family traditions practically required it, and he'd entertained the notion. After all, if he wanted to get anywhere in the realm of politics, he'd need a wife at his side.

But the crop of debutantes proved disappointing. Charmless, rude, annoying. After last night, he'd had it. If it meant he'd have to attend every charity event and gala and dinner by himself, that was just fine. At least he'd be awake for school.

Even if he did that, he wouldn't be able to get away. The elder wealthy women of the Capitol were relentless, pushing their daughters or granddaughters in his direction. An eligible younger man was one of the worst things to be at social events. He attended to make connections, not flirt with every woman in the vicinity.

Now his jaw stretched in a yawn he reached up to cover just in time. Maybe he could skip the hour of study he usually took in the library and head straight home. He'd undoubtedly be turning in early tonight.

"Late night?" you asked sympathetically, blinking at him through your glasses.

Coriolanus nodded, fixing his tired eyes on you. A tiny smile graced your lips, and he felt a little more awake because of it. "Yes." You were another library regular, always lost behind a towering stack of books and scribbling something in your pink notebook. But the way he knew of you went beyond sharing space and having one or two classes together.

His last name was famous because of his father, one in a long line of important ancestors who shaped Panem in some way. Yours was for an entirely different reason.

The things people used to whisper about you when you were both still in the Academy were far from dignified. About your father's cowardice. The way your mother took a nightlife line of work after he deserted both the military and your family. Your brothers were nothing but trouble in the eyes of the public- drunks who caused a world of trouble in the streets.

He remembered seeing you during the war. Clinging to your mother's hand, a pair of teenagers lurking behind her. Tigris always had sympathy for you in particular. "She hasn't done anything, but because she was born in the wrong family everyone's awful to her." He always agreed. But he had enough problems of his own.

Class was dismissed, and you stood, folding your books back into place and keeping your head down as you made your way out of the room. He noticed people turning to each other, watching as you disappeared. Their whispers were no doubt unfavorable.

Coriolanus re-packed his textbook, wandering out into the hallway. Thinking about the war and his association of you with it had left him feeling some kind of way. He looked at his watch, any notions of tiredness suddenly fleeing. Maybe he'd head to the library after all.

You were there when he arrived, already writing in your notebook, head down, finger tapping at a line on an open page. Always the perfect student. He remembered that about you.

Turning to his usual table, he froze when he saw who was seated behind it. While his date last night didn't attend the university, several of his previous ones did, and two of them were sitting in a group of girls where he usually did. Ducking his head and hoping they didn't see him, he made for your table without thinking, pulling out a chair roughly and setting himself down.

When he looked at you, your eyes were already on him, brows knit in confusion. Coriolanus felt a twinge of sympathy. You likely weren't used to company like this.

"Can I help you?" The way you asked wasn't unkind. He stared at you for a moment, something brewing within. Your hair was pulled back, but a little strand had fallen from the clip at the back of your head, touching your cheek so delicately that he doubted you'd noticed.

The pack of girls giggled behind him. He leaned forward, words falling from his lips before he could stop them.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Pretend?" You leaned against the wall in the hallway where he'd ushered you, instinctively covering the strap of your bag. Coriolanus remembered briefly how fellow students at the Academy used to steal and hide your books from you.

"Pretend," he confirmed, resisting the urge to shift on his feet. "We would pretend to be...together."

"Why?" You asked it in such a non-judgmental way. Eyes innocent, lips parted just barely as you waited for his response.

Straightening, Coriolanus tried to explain clearly. "I need someone to be with me at different events. So it looks like I'm unavailable. To other women."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

He didn't feel like explaining his views on love at the moment. But your eyes were so earnest, and he almost felt like he could tell you every detail about his entire life and you'd listen. So he didn't lie. "I can't have a serious relationship right now."

"Hmm." Nodding, you bit the side of your cheek, looking to the side. "So what does this mean? I'd have to go to parties...but what else?"

"Dates, potentially." Coriolanus was a little surprised you were taking this so lightly. Any other girl would have laughed, maybe, or tried to turn the situation around. But you were simply listening, acting like you were taking it seriously. "We'd have to be seen together."

"Do I get anything out of it?" You were looking back into his eyes now.

He nearly did a double take. This was the most he'd ever heard you speak. "You could be compensated-"

"No. Don't pay me," you interrupted, shaking your head and looking away again. "It's too much like...it wouldn't feel right to me."

Coriolanus watched you, suddenly remembering one of the things he'd heard others say about your mother and how she earned a living. He didn't know what you'd been exposed to, but based on your expression, it couldn't be good. "Okay. Is there anything else you want?"

You thought for a moment, perking up a bit. "You have connections. And influence. Is there any chance you could use it...um..." Trailing off, your cheeks flushed.

"What?" His tone softened involuntarily.

Letting go of your bag, you began to fidget with your hands. "At the tuition offices, maybe?"

"Ah." He didn't mean to say it out loud, quickly remedying when you began to turn away, eyes on the ground. "Yes, of course. I'll see what I can do." It wouldn't be hard. Heaven knew how many times he'd had to butter up on charm for a discount for himself. Getting it for someone else would be a walk in the park.

"Okay." You looked back up. "Thank you."

"So we have a deal?" Coriolanus found himself nearly holding his breath. He almost kicked himself. An hour ago you were merely the youngest child of a disgraced family, only a classmate to him. But now you were the potential answer to his problems.

He couldn't say why he'd done it. Why he hadn't taken back what he'd said in the library and moved on. Seeing you look up at him had flipped a switch in his mind. Something about you was just...different.

After so many outings with women of his social class, he had come to know the way they all looked at him. There was a glint of hunger, and he knew what it was for. Money, power status. All packaged into one little look. You had more reason than any of them to have it, and he may have excused it if he did see it. But even when you were shyly asking him to use his connections, he didn't see it once.

Maybe that was why his heart practically jumped when you quietly said, "Yes." The way you responded was so meek. You were back to holding your bag strap, and another strand of hair had left your ponytail.

His heart jumped again. He'd have to get that under control if he was going to be spending so much time with you.

"Is this really necessary?"

Coriolanus took a sip of champagne before setting his glass down, staring at the curtain you were behind. You poked your head out, your ponytail falling over your shoulder. "I have plenty of clothes."

He knew that wasn't true. The sweater you'd worn to school that day had a hole in the shoulder and the hem, and he'd seen a new one under one of the arms when you reached for something on the counter. Even though you'd fixed your elbow back to the side almost immediately, he knew what he'd seen. It was third of a rotation of four sweaters he'd seen you in, and none of the others were in much better shape.

If he let you wear the same worn-out hand me downs as before, the relationship wouldn't be believable. Were you and him truly together, he would spoil you beyond belief.

"Yes," he responded, looking you in the eye. "It's necessary. Show me the first dress."

You exited, one hand tugging at the side of the silky black dress he'd picked out for you. "This is pretty."

"It is," he agreed, watching you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The fabric clung to you everywhere it should, the slit in the leg not climbing high enough to be inappropriate. His eyes became fixed to the exposed sliver of your thigh for a moment before he shook it off. "We'll take that one. Try the others on too."

Pausing before you reached the fitting room, he saw you cup something in your hand, your neck bending to look at it. Whipping back around to Coriolanus, you took a step toward him with wide eyes. "This is too much."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Too much?"

You lowered your voice, eyes darting around the room even though it was just the two of you right then. "The price is too high." Shifting forward a little, you turned to the side, holding out the rounded tag so he could see.

Not bothering to look, Coriolanus shook his head. "It's fine. Go try another one."

"But-" You did a quick check of the room again before continuing. "I don't want you to spend so much on me."

"We still have to go to shoes and jewelry." Coriolanus pretended to check his watch, and you scurried back behind the curtain.

The rest of the dresses were a breeze. You slowly became more comfortable with it, fidgeting less with the fabric and standing up straight. By the last dress, he could nearly believe you were a high-born Capitol lady. Good. That was something to work with. He handed you off to one of the department store employees when you got to shoes and jewelry, wandering off to pick out a stack of new sweaters in your size.

He'd whispered a few extra instructions to the woman you'd walked off with, so after he'd handed over his card, he made himself comfortable in the furnished waiting area, accepting another glass of champagne. He pulled one of his schoolbooks out, figuring he'd knock out a bit of reading since you had both skipped the library to be here.

When you were brought back to him, your hair was tied up, and you were holding a small paper shopping bag. Coriolanus stood. You were back in the clothes you'd arrived in. "Where are the rest of your bags?"

"At the register," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. "This is more than I need-"

"What's in here?" he asked, gesturing to the bag you were holding.

He wanted to thumb your bottom lip away from your teeth. You were going to get a sore. "Hair things. And perfume. But Coriolanus-" Momentarily distracted by how your voice sounded around his name, he forced himself to listen. "-I can't bring any of this home."

"Why not?"

"My mother might..." you flushed. He nodded, urging you on. "The clothes would be fine because we don't wear the same size. But everything in here..." holding up the bag, you looked dejected. "She might take it and say it's for...clients."

"I see." He mulled it over for a moment, flipping through ideas. There was no way he'd ever admit it, but he knew the plight of having to guard fine possessions.

"Maybe I'll be able to hide it," you tried, swaying the bag. "I need to shower tonight with these. Maybe I can just hide them after I'm done."

"Here." Coriolanus held out his hand. When you hesitated, his voice dropped to a whisper. "We're supposed to be together."

You laced your fingers through his, and he picked up both your school bags and slung them over his opposite shoulder. The payment was already taken care of, and he knew the bags would have been brought out to the car already. Holding his head high, he guided you through the store, making sure you didn't fall behind him.

Once in the car, he turned the key and said casually. "We're going to mine."

"Why?" You pressed your knees together, brow knit once again. One day he'd like to take his thumb and smooth it out.

"So you can shower." Coriolanus pulled into the street, smoothly weaving through the few other cars out at this hour. "I'll have you home in time."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly. "You already spent more on me today than anyone has in my life. You don't need to pretend with me in private too."

That snagged his attention. "It's not pretending with this. You..." Your eyes were on him, he could feel it. The pure magnetism of your being directed him to look back, and he would have had he not been driving. "You deserve nice things." There was more he could have said, but he left it at that. You were silent all the way to his penthouse.

The look on your face was similar to the one he'd seen when you first walked into the department store. You tried to play it off, but he knew the feeling well. Coriolanus' entire upbringing had been hinged on pretending not to have it. You hid it well, but he could still see the hints of it.

Coriolanus showed you to his bathroom, flipping the light on and setting you up with your new soap and perfume. He left you alone, wishing Tigris was here to balance things out. You needed a woman's touch, that much was clear.

He stayed in the living room after bringing one of the bags with your new sweaters and skirts inside, trying to pretend like he wasn't intrigued by the idea of you in clothes that weren't ill fitting.

It's not real, he reminded himself, staring at the notebook on the table. She's not your girlfriend. It's natural to be curious. It's just a girl in your bathroom.

"Coriolanus?"

His head snapped up. "Yes?"

"Um." There was a pause. "I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding?" Coriolanus leapt to his feet, rushing to the door. He pushed it open without thinking, greeted by the sight of you with a towel wrapped around your body, sitting on the bench in front of his bed. You were bent over, holding your hand to your leg, and when you looked up, your eyes were panicked.

"I cut myself when I was shaving," you said, voice small. "I'm sorry. I tried not to get blood on anything and I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," he cut you off, disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving a band-aid from the cabinet, wetting one of his maroon washcloths before he went back to you. "Here."

You took the cloth, pressing it to the affected area and wincing a bit. Coriolanus sat with you on the bench, keeping about a foot of distance.

The towel was low on your chest, nearly exposing the tops of your breasts. Similarly, it hardly covered the tops of your thighs. More skin than likely anyone had ever seen from you. You hardly seemed concerned about it, brow knit over something trivial.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, looking up at him. He passed you the band-aid, and you very carefully peeled back the washcloth, and smoothed the sticky fabric over your skin.

"It's okay," he promised, a sense of familiarity washing over him that he wished he could shake off. "You're okay." Your wet hair was clinging to your shoulders, and it was easier to see the trimming you'd gotten in the department store.

He had to get out of there. "I'll be in the other room."

There was something about you that weakened him. That much was clear. Maybe he could back out of the deal, leave you with this one day of shopping and an awkward moment after you used his shower and go back to normal. Ignoring each other.

When you weren't wearing your glasses, he could see how pretty your eyes were. He inhaled sharply, swallowing and tapping a finger on the table. Back out. Definitely back out. This wasn't a good idea.

When you emerged from his bedroom, he had a speech prepared, but it all flew from his mind when he saw you fresh-faced and clean in your new sweater and skirt. You smiled, turning around and showing him the back. "Good?"

You inched closer, and he almost felt like he could see the difference. Some of the stress in your face had melted away, making you look younger almost. Between that and the clothes, you looked...pretty.

He stood, torn pieces of what he had been about to say coming back. "Good." Anything else he was about to say died on his lips when he inhaled, catching the scent of your perfume.

Roses. Coriolanus clenched his jaw.

Maybe he could manage to see this through.

[salparadiselost]

A random idea that I'm not ever sure I'm going to pick up and finish. AU is that everyone lives in a movie genre and the universe if governed by the rules of that genre. Bruce, fed up with being a failed lover interest, starts to adopt kids from other genres.

-----

"I don't get it," Dick says, standing at the top small set of stairs and looking down them. There's like six of them, hardly enough to actually call it a staircase. Dick could probably jump the full way down without hurting himself. It's definitely not a flight, just six steps to get from the raised dias of the bank's entry to the street. But Bruce is still hesitating at the top, staring at them like they are a snake curled up in the grass. 

The man who had assigned himself Dick's father (He doesn't need a father. He doesn't have parents. His parents are dead. Killed. For eight years, their case has gone untouched as cold as their corpses. He needs to solve it. He needs to find the killer. He has to. He has to. He has to...) drags his eyes from the stairs to Dick.

"You live in a *rom com*," Dick practically spat the words. He had been growing to hate this saturated colour, plastic world. There were too many people. None of the streets were ever empty. Movements from the corners of his eyes that his brain screamed could be someone pulling a gun, someone reached for a knife, someone passing a drug off to another, was usually just a woman dressed in LuLulemon pulling her yappy dog along. It was maddening the way that his brain wasn't built for this. He saw people doing things and his mind screamed that it was clues! It was evidence! You need to investigate it! You need. You need. You need.

But he doesn't. Because he doesn't exist here. The Graysons don't exist here. No one has been killed in this city for over 100 years apparently. The worse crime in the paper had been when Miss Betty accidentally stole cupcakes because her and Joe's orders got mixed up. They were getting married now apparently.

Dick shook his head trying to dislodge the part of him that was screaming that he was missing a clue. He tried to focus on the present. Him. Bruce. Stairs.

"This is a romantic comedy," he repeated. "It's all about love, so what's the fucking worse thing that could happen on the stairs."

"*It seems I've fallen for you*," said Bruce suddenly, his voice so devoid of emotion it startles Dick. Dick's eyes snap up to meet the other man's eyes, but Bruce is still looking at the stairs.

"That's the part of the script," he continues, his voice blank. It's disconcerting. Dick has only heard him peppy or bubbly or other words that paint him as a happy-go-lucky dog. He's never heard... this. "I fall down the stairs and I... I break something. I lay there until she's suppose to rush in. She's supposed to be a nurse or a doctor or maybe just someone with first aid training. She's supposed to treat me until the ambulance comes and I'm supposed to say *'it seems I've fallen for you'*"

Bruce finally looks at Dick and he can't even describe what's in the man's eyes. It's... he would almost call it haunted. The same glint that he has when he stares in the mirror.

"I've broken my leg from falling down stairs 48 times. I've broken one of my ankles 53 times. My left arm 18 and my right 26. Three times it's been my collarbone. One time after two flights, it was my back. I was paralyzed from the neck down. I couldn’t move a damn finger, so I just laid there in pain until the clock hit midnight and everything reset. And that’s just the staircase falls. There’s also the open manholes, the broken railings, getting hit by a car, a couple of times where a bridge gave out from under me. Any of them will do as long as I end up hurt and on the ground."

Dick stared. Coldness washed through his veins, fixing him to the spot. For the first time since he got here, fear settled into the pit of his stomach. The only thing he could think to say was: "I thought that nothing went wrong here?"

Bruce gave a harsh laugh that seemed more fitting for Dick's genre. "Everything works out if you actually have someone who wants to love you. If your love interest isn't interested or she just doesn't bother to turn up... well, the universe keeps trying to correct itself even if that means you have to lay in a crumpled, bloody heap at the bottom of stairs for a few hours."

He... he didn't know what to say. Say that he was sorry? That Bruce didn't have anyone coming to love him?

He looked back at the stairs and saw them how Bruce saw them. He tried to figure out what to say, but Bruce just turned on his heel.

"Let's go find the wheelchair ramp."

[crunchystarz]

Hello!

I’d like to request a oneshot with Kalim x fem s/o where it dawns on Kalim that his s/o is the only girl in an all boys school and now he’s starting to notice every stare and gift other guys are trying to give his s/o causing him to be a bit jealous and protective

(I hope the reader being fem is okay bc if not then you can totally ignore this request!!)

"Me jealous?!?...I'm totally jealous"

Kalim Al Asim x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kalim realizes he's not the only one who wants your love and attention

Cw- none, just fluff

Word count: 1545

A/N: GAH sorry this took so long I've been so busy with finals; also imma be so fr I basically blacked out when writing this so if it's not perfect again y'all always can leak my address;

Thank y'all sm for 100+ followers already like 🙁 y'all are so cool pls don't explode

Night Naven College was an all-boys school. Always has been. You were the first exception to that. You were the only girl who ended up becoming a student.

When Kalim first met you he never paid mine to that fact. To Kalim you were Just another student ; a new friend to be made. However, after getting closer to you the housewarden couldn't deny the fact you made his chest feel all fuzzy.

He's always surrounding himself with people but you're his favorite person to be around. He will always try and seek you out in a crowd because you were the one who made his heart beat so fast.

He loved the way you'd run a hand through his hair whenever he'd lay on your lap or the fact you were always down with whatever he came up with. How you truly did care for the people around you.

You were perfect in Kalim’s eyes.

Kalim ended up mentioning these feelings to Jamil offhandedly; Which after a little talk with him. He came to the conclusion he liked you. Not just in his usual friendly way either. He was head over heels.

However you being the only girl meant you had many eyes on you no doubt. It's always been that way since you became a student however Kalim only started paying attention to it once he recognized his crush.

He couldn't help the way his chest turned whenever another would give you big puppy eyes or would be overly friendly with you. He didn't get it. You weren't his…yet. So why does he get jealous so easily?

He couldn't blame others for liking you. You were well you. You were smart, kind and pretty, how couldn't they fall for you? He just wished he had all your attention sometimes even if it did feel selfish.

He'd often subconsciously glare at others who linger on you too long. He'd also be quick to kill you closer to him in a crowded area or lead you somewhere else all together just to get your full attention. It was clear to most people he had a thing for you.

Kalim fidgeted and watched as the pink haired boy shyly handed you a bracelet. It was just made out of colorful rubber bands. He could give you something much nicer… but you looked so happy receiving it.

Was it the thought that counted? Is that why you took it and smiled so brightly? Kalim slightly pouted to himself. He felt so uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being jealous. He wanted to be the one to make you smile like that.

The snowy hair bit his lip as he remembered the conversation he and Jamil had a few days earlier.

“You know Kalim you should tell her how you feel, she's not exactly going to be on the market forever you know” Jamil spoke, dusting the shelf that had started to collect dust.

Kalim huffed and groaned. Jamil was right. You weren't going to just be up for grabs forever. But how would he just tell you how he feels…

This was too complicated! Kalim wasn't used to not being able to express how he felt. He wants to tell you that you mean a lot to him. Which he does all the time but he wants you to know he doesn't mean it in the same way he means to his other friends.

He wants you to know you're special, that you're an even brighter star compared to him. Yet he's afraid that he'll mess everything up. What if you don't feel the same way about him? Kalims frown deepened and he sighed, slumping his shoulders.

Kalim played with the bracelet in his hands. Was this good enough? He made it himself with charms that reminded him of you. He didn't register the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.

“Good afternoon Kalim!” your voice rang out. The house warden basically sprung up, a smile spreading across his face upon hearing your voice. He turned and shoved the bracelet into his pocket.

“Hi, name!” He chirped, hugging you tightly. You let out a soft chuckle before wrapping your arms around him as well. He pulled away with a big dopey smile. You tilted your head and looked around.

“Jamil, is he not with you?” you asked. Kalim shook his head. You let out a hum before shrugging lightly. You flashed him a smile causing blood to rush to his cheeks.

“Well it's nice to catch you alone for once you always seem to be around someone, sometimes it's nice when it's just the two of us” you spoke, Kalim’s red eyes watched you.

He couldn't help the way his smile got bigger at your words. He felt the same way; it made his heart leap.

“Yup…just the two of us!” He exclaimed, his voice a little higher in pitch. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his fingers running over the bracelet. He was about to speak before you cut him off.

“You don't have any more classes today right?” You asked, turning your full attention to the house warden once more. Kalim nodded his head.

“Great, would you mind if I hung out in scarabia with you?” You said with a small tilt of your head.

“No, I wouldn't mind at all!” The snowy hair perked up.

On the walk there it was like Kalim was hyper aware of every guy to look in your direction. It made him feel so bad for feeling so bitter about it but he couldn't help it. Couldn't these guys just mind their own business?

You seemed to take notice of his demeanor being off“You okay, Kalim?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern. Your hand gently tugging on his sleeve.

Kalim blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, I’m fine! Totally fine!” He gave you a wide smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Odd.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Are you sure? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

He swallowed nervously. You knew him too well. “I guess… I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,” he admitted, his voice softer.

You tilted your head, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Thinking? About what?”

Kalim hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about… you,” he confessed, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He couldn’t meet your gaze, his eyes glued to the ground.

“And how… you make me really happy.”

His words caught you off guard and you looked up at him. “I make you happy?” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Kalim nodded quickly, his usual energy bubbling to the surface despite his nerves. “Yeah! Like, more than anyone else. I love being around you, and I always want to make you smile. But lately, I’ve been feeling… different.”

“And what do you mean by different?” You spoke moving closer to him. Your chest swirling with an …off but comforting feeling.

“Well it's just I… I get all weird whenever other guys start paying attention to you…” He admitted sheepishly. Your grin turned a bit more teasing.

“Awh, sounds like you're jealous,” you teased. His face redder a bit and he looked away.

“I …am” he responded. You weren't expecting him to just openly admit it. You blinked and recollected your thoughts. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Well that's actually kind of nice… to know you care enough to get jealous over me out of all people” you said, your tone a bit quieter now.

“Well of course I care about you…”

It got quiet for a bit. Neither of you speaking, just watching each other.

Kalim fidgeted with the bracelet still in his pocket, finally pulling it out and holding it out to you. “ Oh I made this for you. I’ve been trying to find the right time to give it to you…"

Your eyes softened as you reached out to take the bracelet, your fingers brushing against his. The charms were small but thoughtful .

“Kalim… it’s beautiful,” you whispered, slipping it onto your wrist.

“Thank y-”

“I-I like you!” he blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement. “Not just as a friend. I mean… I really really like you. You’re amazing, and I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but your smile grew even brighter. “Kalim…”

He held his breath, waiting for your response. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

“I like you too,” you said softly. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Kalim’s eyes lit up like fireworks, a beaming grin spreading across his face. “You do? Really?”

You nodded, reaching out to take his hand. “Really. You’re the brightest part of my day, Kalim.”

Unable to contain his excitement, Kalim pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you around. You yelped in surprise.

As he set you down, still holding your hand, he looked at you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush.

“So… does this mean I can be your boyfriend?” he asked with a hopeful grin.

You chuckled softly and nodded. “I’d love that.”

Kalim’s heart soared. He never imagined this moment could feel so perfect. You were his now — and he was yours. Nothing could make him happier.

Jamil would never hear the end of how much he loves his girlfriend.

MASTERLIST

[g1rld1ary]

lifeguard!james potter x reader 6

prev

wc: 1785

cw: r thirsting over james, someone almost drowns (but doesn't)

me: i have a bunch of lockwood requests in the drafts and yet this is all I've been able to write lately... if anyone has any lifeguard!james requests pleaseeee send them over bc he is my favourite boy <3 ALSO just realised the last part was posted in AUGUST!! no wonder i wrote this so fast i have been missing him!!!!!

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it was stupidly hot. you weren’t usually one to complain about warm weather given england got so little, but the whole summer had been one big heatwave and it was becoming a little overwhelming. english girls weren’t made for the heat!

still, at least you had the public pool to make up for the sweltering sun, and that same underfunded public pool brought you james, so maybe everything did happen for a reason.

that brought you to the present moment, lounging on a sun chair, feeling the tan appear on your skin. lily was next to you flicking through a magazine you’d brought her from the supermarket and you were enjoying the sight of james in all his glory on duty.

you really needed to ask yourself why you could stare at him for hours doing, quite literally, nothing. you’d already seen him up in his chair plenty of times, observing the water below him, flirting with you, passing the time. and yet every time he was on shift you noticed something new. a new muscle that tantalised you, a new spot of highlight that glittered under the sun. james was simultaneously an enigma you chipped away at every day and an open book you didn’t need to; it was maddening.

you were torn from your daydreams by the lifeguard whistle piercing the air. you propped yourself up with a start, deadly curious as to what could have happened. in all your years coming to the same pool, you didn’t think you’d ever heard the whistle sound so aggressively. the most dangerous thing that had ever happened there was a few kids running around when the sign on the gate specifically prohibited it.

and yet, there was a little girl, flailing around because one of her armband floaties had popped and she was simultaneously being dragged under while one arm was stuck on the surface. you and lily watched on in horror as she struggled, hand over your mouths and reading material long forgotten.

luckily, james was onto it. in one surprisingly graceful dive, he was in the water, shooting across the pool to where the girl was struggling, all the witnesses frozen in shock or fear. he was there in an instant, scooping the girl up and bringing her to the side of the pool, hoisting her up to sit on the edge. when they were both on dry land, your surprise was doubled to see the girl was tiny, maybe five at the oldest.

james sat with her on the edge of the pool as she coughed and spluttered and spat out a bit of water, then walked her over to the tiny medical room on the edge of the facility. stillness and silence weighed over the pool for a moment before a few kids resumed their game of marco polo and life returned to normal.

“i know it’s awful that something could have happened to that girl, but now she’s safe am i wrong in saying that was super hot?” you asked lily and furrowed your brow when she laughed.

“you are so gone,” she shook her head with a smile, “but you’re not necessarily wrong.” in your defence, if you were looking strictly at james and not at the surrounding scenario, it was a pretty spectacular display. despite all his muscles, of which there were many, james was apparently light on his feet, making a dive even the olympians would respect, muscles shifting under his skin as his arms raised above his head. and then when he came up for oxygen, curls flying through the air as he shook the water off him and sparkling chlorine droplets adorned his skin. he truly looked godly; not of the same universe that everyone around you was created in.

plus, of course he was good with kids. as if that didn’t make your ovaries want to explode. james was so gentle with the little girl, rubbing her back as she got the water out of her lungs and holding her little hand as they plodded down to the medical room.

you went back to daydreaming under the sun fuelled by the new experiences you’d had, images of james and his muscles doing all sorts of nasty, delightful things. you were blissfully tanning until the squawking, rage-filled voice of an adult woman pierced through your ears up to your brain. had anyone seen her daughter? five years old, small, brown hair, pink swimsuit? you propped yourself up on your arms to watch the commotion, cringing silently as old hilda glowered, reluctantly explaining the situation.

it felt like the whole pool was silently waiting as james and the little girl emerged from inside the medical room. and while the girl waddled across to her mother like a puddle of sunshine, james was the grey cloud hovering over her.

you watched with keen interest as james and the girl’s mother engaged in a very heated discussion you couldn’t quite hear, all flailing arms and stern glares. you took advantage of the moment of his distraction, admiring the way his brow hardened as he got angry, something you’d never seen before. the glitter in his eyes was no longer mischief but rage, and his jaw clenched and unclenched like it was the only thing keeping him from yelling. maybe it was. while the whole situation was obviously very scary and tragic, your thighs were clenched for dear life as you watched the veins in his arms appear while his fists clenched. you were not going to tell lily what you were imagining about james’ hands but you were sure she could already tell.

the spat ended with the woman turning on her heel and dragging her daughter out of the facility as james stared them down, anger still radiating off of him. he stood aimlessly for a few moments and you got the impression he didn’t know what to do with all the angry energy he’d amassed. and while you had a couple of ideas, you figured hilda probably wouldn’t appreciate it on the ancient pool tiles. groaning softly, you swung yourself up and out of the plastic sun lounger, treading lightly towards him.

“hey there, baywatch. think it’s time for your lunch break yet?” james broke from his reverie to look at you, frustration still evident on his features.

“that was so — she was so —” he paused for a moment to self-soothe, “yeah, i think a break is a good idea.”

“okay,” you laughed a little, taking james’ cap off his head and putting it on your own, “you go sit with lily for a bit and i’ll be right back.” with that you took off out of the pool grounds, legging it to the supermarket down the street. nothing worth having was ever cold at the dismal pool bar.

you returned only a few minutes later with drinks in hand, approaching lily and james from behind. you could tell from their impassioned gestures they were still rehashing the earlier situation.

“an angel returns,” you announced in a sing-song voice, setting your hands on james’ shoulders. he looked up at you, visibly relaxing as he smiled. you couldn’t help but return it.

lily got the first choice of the three different beverages you’d chosen as you knew james would never complain. she took the iced tea while james chose a coca cola, leaving you with the lemonade. james reached forward to take the can as you came to sit on the edge of his lounger but you wagged your finger, cracking the top open and taking a sip.

“favour tax,” you explained, handing the drink over with a grin. james stumbled over his words as he took it, settling on just taking a sip to avoid having to come up with something witty. you hoped the red in his cheeks wasn’t just sunburn.

“so do you wanna keep talking it out or shall we distract you with our theatrics?” lily asked, clipping her hair up and off the back of her neck. james thought for a moment, head tilted to the side like a puppy.

“entertain me,” he commanded in good humour, “if i keep talking about it i’ll just stay angry all day, and who’d waste a day like that when accompanied by two beautiful ladies?” you and lily both rolled your eyes at his playful flirting, carrying on a conversation you’d started earlier in the day about neighbourhood gossip.

james’ shift ended just before sunset, when orange was just beginning to paint the sky. lily had left a half-hour earlier on household dinner duty, but you had nothing to do and knew james would be off soon enough.

you wandered down the town’s streets together, only half dressed from a day at the pool and admiring the multicoloured sunset.

“y’know everyone’ll really love you now, if they didn’t already,” you said, kicking a rock unfortunate enough to cross paths with you, “i mean, saving a little girl from drowning? that’s overachieving, even for you.” you studied james’ reaction, making sure it wasn’t too soon and you weren’t crossing lines. james, ever the ray of sunshine, just laughed heartily.

“what can i say? new kid in town has to make a good impression, especially when there are always such pretty girls hanging around to watch me on duty.”

“and who would those pretty girls be?” you asked with faux-innocence, looking up at james through your eyelashes. he looked at you as if to say you know, but then retorted anyway.

“hilda and edith are quite the silver foxes, don’t you think?”

“sure!” you laughed, “if you like wrinkly boobs down to your hips.”

“as opposed to yours!” james retaliated instantly, the widening of his eyes making it abundantly clear that he had not thought it through, but you weren’t letting him go that easily.

“which are…” you prompted, satisfied when james’ hazel eyes began flicking between your eyes and your bikini-clad chest, almost as if he couldn’t control it.

“which are… great! good? perfect? please let me stop talking,” he begged, only serving to make you giggle.

“come on, baywatch, let’s get you home. you’ve had a big day.”

“you know, sometimes i think you might even have a heart in there somewhere, pretty girl.” james slung an arm around your shoulder and you faltered under his weight, the two of you stumbling home in a mass of limbs and laughter.

would just like to clarify that there is nothing wrong with wrinkly boobs down to ur hips! all boobs r good boobs <3

[isagispuzzle]

CONGRATS ON 200 🤍 you deserve that and so much more !!

for your event, even tho it's rlly hard to pick just one trope, i would say that the second chances trope has been one of my recent favs lately!

HEHE THANK YOU NISHIII anyway are you in my walls.... because i've been thinking about doing a part 2 for my oliver angst piece like this timing is too perfect HAHAHA

oliver might have played it cool when his teammates found your makeup bag, but now, his heart is about to explode.

it hasn't been long since you moved out of his life. he found your makeup bag in his backpack the day after you left, but he didn't reach out to you till a month later. he told himself it's to give you time to rebuild a routine without him, to let your heart start to miss him a little before he re-entered your space. of course, he knows that's just an excuse, and he only hesitated to text you because he wanted to hold onto the remnants of you for just a little longer.

oliver doesn't fear much, but when his thumb hovered over the send button on his phone, it trembled at the prospect of giving up this last piece you've left him with, the last relic of your love.

yet, despite his selfish reluctance, he arranged to meet you at a cafe to return your makeup bag, because he knows how much the earrings inside mean to you.

(did he hurt you enough for you to give up retrieving a piece of your heart just to avoid speaking to him again?)

he reaches the cafe at four on the dot, like you agreed to. he scans the room and is surprised to see a jarring lack of you. you're not at the counter, nor at the window seat you loved, nor at the shelf on the inner wall, admiring the owner's memorabilia from across the globe. so he finds himself choosing the table, staring at an empty seat in front of him, without any sign of you.

barely a minute passes and his leg starts bouncing restlessly under the table. oliver checks his texts to see nothing new from you. he looks out the window just to see a new wave of strangers exiting the subway station, and when he doesn't see you in the crowd, he starts to pick at the nail on his thumb. his thoughts start to race. oliver wonders if he's been stood up. he doubts you'll ever break a promise with him, but what's to say that hasn't changed, now that he's no longer someone special to you?

oliver's palms start to sweat and he feels his pulse in his neck. this sucks, he thinks. he hates feeling like this. like he's grovelling for your scraps, like he's hanging off every little thing that could be related to you. he's always been the one to care less, the one with nothing to lose, the one who left the other begging for more.

yet here he is, breathing the biggest sigh of relief when you finally show up, five minutes past the agreed time. you're straight faced and composed, and you haven't done anything to your hair. in the fleeting moment when you walk past oliver, he notices that you smell different.

"you're early," you say as you sink into your seat, and his stomach drops.

you're echoing his words back to him, from back when he'd turn up late for dates and never utter a word of apology.

oliver sees the satisfaction billowing in your eyes. he recalls all the times there were tears in them instead, when you'd beg him to love you more.

(which, he never understood why you ever doubted his love for you, because you're the only one he's ever held onto for this long. you're the only one he could truly be himself with, the only one he never got bored with, the only one he wanted to build his life with. you're the only one he's ever truly loved.)

it's only when oliver catches himself apologising for everything he's done to you and promising he'll do better that he finally realises you were never a gamble to him. there was never any doubt that you're the one for him, and there was never any chance that he'll truly let you go. you were never a gamble to him, but a promise, which he now swears to keep like a vow.

you might be repeating the mistake of letting oliver into your life. but you see the sincerity in his eyes and the desperation in his words, and you convince yourself that he's learnt from his mistakes. the walls you prepared around your heart for this day crumble when you realise they had only kept him in your heart, not out.

so you reach out a hand for him to take, a peace treaty and a warning, a second chance and an ultimatum.

instead of the red string of fate, oliver sees a thin, translucent fishing line around your pinky and down his throat, because you've got him hook, line, and sinker.

[cupidssorbet]

"Over the desk."

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Boss!Miguel O'Hara x Assistant reader.

Characters included: Miguel O'Hara.

Summary: Your boss has begun to notice the way you stare and the certain things you do when he's around and he's decided to help you out a bit.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Note: This is inspired by Badjur's assistant audio! :) Also I apologize for this taking FAR LONGER than I meant it too!

Content/Includes: JOI(Jerk off instructions), Jerking off over the phone, Mutual Masturbation, Guided Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Tit worship, Overall body worship,

Enjoy! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ✧ and a big thank you for sticking around while I was away!! I plan to write some gravity falls stuff soon to do with everyone’s favorite grunkles since I’ve recently played the dating sim AND have also recently rewatched arcane as well as the S2 eps (again) and plan to write for that too!

You’d been working for Miguel O’Hara for almost 4 years now, in all those 4 years you’d never been more affected and bothered by a person quite like the way your own BOSS got to you. You could never put your finger on it though, Miguel usually kept to himself and often didn't try to smile or go out of his way like others might have but there was something about him...was it his eyes? his hair? his face? his voice? You just couldn't name it and it was getting to you.

Time when he'd lean over your shoulder, his chest against your back while he looks over the schedule you've prepared, it had your heart beating, your thighs rubbing together just slightly on instinct and your mind running. You prayed every time in hopes that your cheeks weren't cherry red with the way you thought you were burning up inside and out.

However it all came stock piling one day when you noticed he was acting a bit off, towards the middle of the day, then the sound of shoes clicking against the floor until he comes around.

"Call off my meetings for today alright? Just tell'em I've got business to take care of." Miguel states as he flicks through the pages in his hands.

Your surprised by it, caught of guard really, but you agree, "Yes of course I can do that." You nodded turning in your chair, "Thank you, If any of them give you shit for it just tell them I asked for it directly and they can wait." He nods, "I do not want to be disturbed at all." he insists before heading to his office and shutting the door behind him with a 'Click!'

While your clearing his schedule and putting up a little 'do not disturb' on the office door and shutting it, you hear a noise? like a beep then--

You look and the little red light for the intercom on the phone was blinking, before you could open your mouth to say something, "Where would you be without her O'hara." You hear Miguel exhale slightly as he takes a seat in his chair, you want to speak up but he only continues, "Always so diligent, willing to do anything for you.." He trails off, "And so damn beautiful, that fucking body, the things I would do." Miguel groaned out over the line, your face, your sure by now is a tomato, then the sound of a belt coming undone, "I can finally unwind and let off some of this tension." Then a slight groan and 'Oh fuck..' followed.

The only other noise you could make out that had your face heating up was the sound of his hand pumping his cock slowly.."How long was I going to have to wait in that meeting." His chair creaks as he leans back, "Fucking dammit..images of her bent over this desk..couldn't get rid of them." the sound of his pumping speeds up, butterflies erupt in your stomach and heat pools between your legs. "Too damn perfect, that perfect little skirt riding up, on her perfect little body.." there's a slight pant to Miguel's voice, "My perfect little assistant." The sounds of him pumping his cock pick up even more, your thighs squeeze together instinctively.

"God, your so eager to always fill everyone of my requests," when he goes from 'her' to 'you' as if being direct it makes you jump slight, "Wonder how she'd feel if she knew how hard she got me, if she knew that I knew exactly why she stay's after hours, how she'd feel if I knew why she comes to my office so often.." His words trail off.

Your heart is thumping, "I wonder how she would feel that I know she can hear me over the intercome, Right now." Miguel huffs out, you jump, "Me?" You squeak out slightly, "Yes you, your enjoying this aren't you?" there's a slight teasing lilt to his voice as he asks.

"I didn't know--" "Come on, in all the years you have worked with me, worked for me, when have I ever been that careless?" He asked, your quiet, "No, you know me, I'm careful, calculated." There's a gruff, yet needy undertone. "You've been enjoying listening to me stroke this thick, fat cock huh? Sitting there behind your desk, thighs pressed together, am I wrong?" He asked.

You feel your cheeks grow hotter, your thighs press tighter, he's got you read like a book. "I'm extremely thorough and careful with everything I do and..everyone I do." He practically enunciates the last few words and it sends a slight shiver. 'God' he murmurs, the sound of him fisting his cock growing a bit slow paced as he talks, "I'll be honest, I've been watching the way you act and dress a bit more closer than I ever have-- Fuck," He groans out followed by a few other curses.

"God..If only you could see the precum dripping from this fat tip huh?" Miguel out right teases, enjoying the way he can hear you shifting in your chair, "I'm not displeased with your work, not by a long shot, quite impressed, but..I notice the way your thighs clench together when I lean on the wall beside you or when I place these big hands on your desk, wouldn't you love them holding those thighs open.." He trails off and you can't help but shudder.

He's reveling in this with his heavy breathes and curses as he rubs his cock, "I can see the way your breath picks up when I lean over you, and those wandering eyes..Shit.." He breathes out, "I've noticed the way they seem to travel down when I wear these pants, the way they stare a bit longer..gave me a reason to wear them more often." His pumping picks up, you swallow audibly, "The way you can't help but stare at the imprint of my cock, not even hard and yet you keep an eye on this package hm?" His teasing tone despite him sounding breathless is just so audible.

"But I'm not the only one who's been wearing something often, you've noticed my looks with those short pencil skirts you've been wearing.." Your shifting side to side when he says that, heat pooling, "But tell me, is that skirt still nice and snug around those beautiful thighs or have you hiked it up to make room for these beautiful hands between those thighs?" You couldn’t even think and get the words out. He just chuckled into the other line. “Go on hike the skirt nice and high for me..” Miguel’s voice was low and husky.

You swallow thickly before bringing your skirt hem up and up..”Now move those pretty panties aside.” His voice rings through the receiver, your heart is racing as she move them aside, you practically exhale which earns a chuckle from him. “Getting excited are we? We’re barely even there.” He teases.

“Now, listen carefully hm? Part your soft thighs and pull those panties aside..” he instructed and you followed, “Now rub that sweet little clit of yours.” That was more of an order than an instruction that there wasn’t any hesitation on your end because you went right to it.

The thought, not the *knowledge* that your boss could hear you and was actively guiding you, had you gasping and panting as quietly as you could within in seconds, your fingers working your clit in tight circles, lost in your own little world..meanwhile, Miguel was reveling in this, it had him throbbing and aching hearing all the pretty little noises that were coming from you..

His free hand instinctively working his cock in time, “Listen to yourself…Buen dios…Such pretty sounds they are.” Miguel praised and god it got you so damn good. “Fuck I—-I just..” you gasped, it was making his resolve crack, he wanted to tease and mess with you to the point of where you needed it just as bad as he did.

“Go on, slide those fingers in, come on.” He urged, his voice smooth yet deep, it always sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, your hands slowly sliding down further, your middle finger first then your ring finger followed, starting a slow rhythm, in..out..the wet sounds that reached your ears were loud to you because of the way your heart had been filling the quietness with it’s beating in your ears but the noise that replaced it would’ve made you blush if you hadn’t already been.

Then, within a couple minutes, you noticed how quiet Miguel had become and thought maybe he’d been put off and then you really listened, quiet grunts & groans reached your ears through the receiver. The soft ‘schlick’ of him pumping his cock felt so loud even if it really wasn’t.

“I can tell your listening, those pants and moans stopped, tell me do you like what you hear?” He asked with a chuckle , low and breathless. “God of course I do,” you practically whined. Miguel clicked his tongue, “Impatient huh?” He teased you again, “At this point yes I am, and it’s becoming unbearable, my fingers aren’t enough!” You huffed exasperated, then all you heard was quiet.

“Mr. O’Hara?” You asked, “Miguel?” Your tone became curious but also worried before the sound of shoes on the flooring echoed and they were fast steps. Approaching your office fast, the gait, the weight of it, added up into your mind as Miguel. Then the door swung open and your assumption was correct. “Not enough? Well let me assist with that.” Miguel’s words came out gruffer than really intended.

You swallowed thickly softly as you removed your fingers, nodding as he approached you, “Look at you, fucking delicious,” he reached down and took your fingers, bringing them to his lips, before taking them in his mouth, a shudder running down your spine.

Then he pulled them out, licking his lips and leaning in..

“Let me satisfy you today.”

PT 1.

[sahrii]

hey dear!!! can I pretty please get a round bouquet of orchids with 3/7 flowers? (whichever you prefer!) I've been dying to give sugawara flowers <333

sugawara koushi!

warnings! fluff, gn!reader, first time writing for suga, forced proximity, mentions of a drunk man, suga being cute, don’t mind the switch from uncapitalised to capitalised sentence (or semi capitalised LOL) it’s bc i switched from my phone to my laptop.

word count! 1267

i also wanna thank @kiwispritz for helping me w the idea and @wakeupmaddie for also helping me and beta reading!!! thanks guys <3

100 followers event

[12.08am]

the stygian night was beautifully decorated by feeble stars, but despite that, it still managed to shed tears of blue threads that collided with the crestfallen ground, creating a piercing yet melodious drone of sound.

“it’s a bit cold, isn’t it? would you like my jacket?” asked suga from beside you.

“uh, i’ll be fine! thanks for offering though,” you awkwardly smile. not only was it raining, but it was windy. the wind occasionally blew an eerie whistle in your ear, sending a shiver down the small of your back.

the bus that you were waiting for was due to come 15 minutes ago, yet here you were, 15 minutes later, shielding your self from the shrewd rain under the bus shelter which seemed to be barely holding itself against the rain.

“we are sorry to announce that the last bus is cancelled due to the an unforeseen incident. we apologise for any inconvenience caused. thank you,” the rusty speaker hanging from the top corner of the bus stop announced.

you snap your head to look at suga, only to find his molten silver eyes as wide as yours. his lips were pressed into a disapproving, thin line.

“uh oh,” you say. “what do we do now?” it was a rhetorical question. You knew what you had to do. Walk under this pouring rain.

“we’re gonna have to walk,” he muttered despondently. “or sleep here,” he joked,  pulling out his phone from the pocket of his jacket. You stayed silent, watching as his long fingers typed something on the phone.

“the closest convenience store is a 15 minutes walk from here. We can get umbrellas and then I’ll walk you home,” his eyes met yours as he stuffed his phome back into his pockets.

“you don’t have to walk me home, I can just—”

“I’m not having any of this,” he cut you off. “I’m walking you home full stop,” you wanted to argue back, but the way he stared into your eyes made it hard, so you defeatedly gave in.

“fine, but you’ll let me get you coffee next time,”

“fine by me,”

[12.25am]

Your clothes clang to your silhouette, as if becoming one with your skin, and the hood of your thin jacket did close to nothing to shield you from the rain.  Or from the loud hum of the wind that made the hairs on your skin stand.

It felt a little warmer suddenly. And a little less wet. It took you a while to process the sudden change, and when you did, your head snapped to look at the culprit behind it.

“what are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes and referring to the thicker jacket draping over your head and shoulders.

“you look like you’re seconds away from hypothermia,” he replied. His previously fluffy hair was a wet, beautiful grey mess, slightly sticking to his creased forehead.

“your sweater looks thinner than paper,” you argued. “and I’m not seconds away from hypothermia,”

“do you ever not argue back,” a smile decorated his lips. He walked slightly in front of you, given he knows the way to the convenience store.

“you’re making this hard. Coffee and dinner now,” you replied, a smile on your lips as you both finally approach the convenience store.

[12.32am]

The both of you were taking shelter under one umbrella while walking. It was apparently the last umbrella left, so there was no other choice. His thick jacket was now draped around your shoulders, given that he refused to take it back.

“so,” suga began. “any plans for tomorrow?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence surrounding you. The rain has slightly subdued, it’s sound against the ground growing softer. An earthy smell of petrichor infiltrated your nostrils and a warm, benign feeling spread across your body.

“if you call sleeping a plan, then yes,” you joked, earning a doting chuckle from the male beside you.

“sounds like a plan to me,”

The streets stretched ahead of you, shimmering with rain and echoing with silence. Despite being lonely, a silver path of moonlight was etched on every bump and jagged cobblestone, disposing of any lingering feelings of loneliness. That is, along with the low murmurs coming from both your mouths.

However, the tranquil, almost placid air was suddenly pierced by the blaring yells of what you imagined to be a drunk middle-aged man walking in your direction. A few vile curses and mutters left his mouth as the distance between you and the man seemed to get shorter.

A soft hand gripped your shoulder instinctively pulling you closer. Suga’s hand. Your back was now touching his chest, the previously comfortable space between you and him now dissipating into the humid air. Small jolts of fireworks surged through your shoulder, all the way to your back as a wave of warmth dizzyingly washed over you.

And he wasn’t any better, his knees buckled slightly and the fingertips wrapped around your shoulder were feeling hot, as if a constellation of sensation ignited within him. He felt his throat dry and stars burn in the pit of his stomach and a warm flush decorated the tips of his ears. he wondered if you were able to hear the thrums of his heartbeats.

After the drunk man passed, his small eyes eyeing both your figures shrewdly, not a word nor a breath were uttered from any of your mouths. The streets felt a tad bit lonelier, but his fingers remained stuck to your shoulder, not wanting to leave.

[1.11am]

“thank you for walking me home,” you said, standing at your door. Your gaze landed on everywhere but his molten silver eyes. Your cheeks were flushed, and your hands trembling a little.

“of course, there is no need to thank me,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips. His eyes crinkled at the corners a little, and his hand scratched the back of his head sheepishly. His heart was still palpitating in his chest like there is no tomorrow.

Your hands slowly took off the jacket he very kindly lent you, which was almost magically dry. “here, uh, your jacket,” you stretched your arms out, holding it in both hands.

He shook his head knowingly. “keep it,” he said, the same smile still gracing his lips. “you can give it to me when we meet up for dinner again,”

Your eyes finally gathered the courage to stare at his eyes. Twilight skies that shimmered with a thousand shades of silver. You gulped, almost losing your voice. Your heart was thundering in your chest. You thought that you wouldn’t mind waking up every morning to eyes like his. “okay,” your voice was low.

“great,” he beamed, but then looked at his watch. “it’s getting late, I’m going to leave now,” he added. “make sure you take a warm shower, I”ll, uh, I’ll see you soon,”

You nodded. As you watched him begin retreating, offering you a small wave and a grateful smile. You waved back, and then turned to open the door of your apartment.

Tonight, you were going to sleep with his silver eyes perpetuating at the top of your mind and his scorching touch lingering on the skin of your shoulder, kindling a wildfire in your heart.

Tonight, he was going to sleep with his heart beating in the drums of his ears and his fingertips sending jolts of fire, reminding him of what it felt when there was no space between the both of you. When your bodies slightly touched and it felt like tidal waves crashing ashore.

[love-byers]

sus music editing in s4 byler scenes (a saga)

since tiktok might die in the US soon, i wanted to convert some of my old tiktoks into tumblr posts so they can live on forever! i've been wanting to do this for a while but never got around to it. i'm starting with this one because ive been posting about music coding a lot lately. i recommend watching the video attachment (at the end of the post) after reading the whole post, just so you'll have context when watching.

ALRIGHT!

will and mike are interrupted in the majority of their solo scenes. the scene in jonathan's room, the scene in will's room, the scene on the car, & the scene in the cabin. i noticed a long time ago that the songs used in the first 3 scenes listed build up for the first half and then kind of explode for the second half. there's a point where the song changes/released after the buildup.

the songs are:

eight fifteen (jonathan's room)

on the bus (will's room)

letter to willy (talk on the car)

BUT, in will's room & the car scene, mike and will are interrupted almost right before the song is supposed to climax. i lined the songs up and listened and i'm right. interestingly, in the scene in will's room, on the bus is edited. in the scene, the song starts like normal at the start of the song. but they cut the middle out so it would skip right to the part RIGHT before the climax of on the bus. THEY DID THAT. so at the very end of the scene just before they get interrupted, the song is teetering on the edge of the big explosive part of the song, but it doesn't happen because they're interrupted and the song ends. in the car scene letter to willy is also edited. maybe im wrong, but there's a note i hear in the car scene that i cannot find anywhere in the song. so it seems like they're purposefully using songs that are building to something but cut off right before the pay off of the buildup. i wouldn't be capitalizing on this so much if 90% of the scenes this happens in werent mike and will staring into each other's souls and then having their gazes torn from each other, but they are. so take that as you will.

now we need to talk about eight fifteen. this is fucking wild.

eight fifteen is all build up for the first half. then there's a moment where it teeters on the edge for a second, and then BOOM! release & loud pretty synths. i lined it up, and the 'teetering' part of the song is in the scene in jonathan's room, but like the others, it's edited. but this one is WAY more crazy.

the song starts from the beginning when will sits on the bed next to mike. it builds while mike talks about his problems with el and not saying the thing she wants. then will says "look, mike, you're gonna see her again, and whatever it is you didn't say, you can say it to her then, okay?" the teetering part starts when will says

"look" and goes all the way until he says "then"

when he says "then", that is the moment when the buildup is supposed to release. but in this scene, it doesn't happen. instead, when he finishes talking, specifically when he says "then" the note kind of trails off. it sounds weird. it's unsatisfying. there was no payoff to all that buildup. i've seen plenty of other tv shows where this is used to emphasize the face that there was no payoff. something in the scene was anticlimactic. something that they wanted to happen or were expecting to happen didnt. the characters are disappointed or left hanging.

and when that note trials off, mike says

"yeah...yeah" and looks down, looking upset and conflicted and disappointed

he wanted will to say something else. will saying "you can say it to her then, okay?" disappointed mike. that's not what he wanted to hear. i think mike wanted will to reassure him and tell him he doesn't have to say something he doesn't mean or doesn't want to say, and that when they see el again mike can explain himself. mike desperately wants to be told he doesn't have to pretend to be in love with el if that's not how he really feels. he wants to be told that el won't be angry if he's honest with her about his true feelings for her, which are platonic. (hence why he later nods after will says 'what if they don't like the truth?')

but will doesn't understand that. will thinks they are in love, he thinks they're perfect. so in his mind, it's fine because mike can just say it when he sees el again. but he thinks that because he thinks mike actually means it, when in reality he doesn't. and by doing that, will only further pushed mike into giving his false confession. now mike thinks even more that he just has to spit it out and tell el what she wants to hear even if it's not how he really feels. this just breaks my heart because mike is so hated on but he's a GOOD BOY💔💔 he's just a 14 year old kid who's afraid of failing the people he cares about but also hates lying about his feelings and just wants to feel free from the expectations others have for him. he just wants someone, specifically will, to tell him it's okay, and that he doesn't owe anyone anything, especially not his own feelings. and it hurts extra bad because if will knew the truth about mike not loving el he would shower him in support because of course mike shouldn't have to lie just because it's what el wants to hear.

and just in case anyone tries to say otherwise, YES mike lied in the monologue. it doesn't need to be proven, it's simply canon.

like there's no denying this. believing it's just a mistake by the writers before believing mike lied is CRAZY heteronormative copium. like come on💀

anyways, the things mike says and does in the scene in jonathan's support this theory. he threw away el's note. "a fight you cant come back from" "maybe if i just said that thing then things would be different" his phrasing sticks out so much. "said that thing" and not "told her" or "told her how i feel". to mike it's just saying words he doesn't want to say. and "a fight you cant come back from" its almost like he's hinting to will that he and el need to break up and he's hoping will will catch on and support him. he trusts will and values his opinion and wants his support. usually he and will very easily communicate non verbally and are naturally in tune with what the other is thinking and feeling, but this time will doesn't catch on (because of his own heteronormativity and assumption that mike and el are in love), and mike is disappointed. he brings this up over and over, like he isn't satisfied with will's answer, and is a little more honest every time. the only thing that seemingly satisfied mike was hearing will's feelings. why did it even get that far?? why would what will said in jonathan's room not suffice if he is actually in love with el??? it just doesn't make sense.

(unless it actually makes perfect sense)

i'm very confident in this since this lies less with the continuity within stranger things itself and more with basic film/video/sound editing. i even got some comments from editors/musicians who agreed with me!

"It's a tactic I've actually used before in editing. It keeps the audience engrossed, and really makes it FEEL interrupted for the audience."

"Woah that's crazy! And it literally stops on the fifth so it's totally legitimately unstable/ unresolved."

stopping on the fifth refers to a technique used in music composition to make a chord progression sound completed. i actually know a bit about this because i took music theory in college, but if anyone knows more than me feel free to share! a completed progression is like a circle. you must begin and end with the same chord. you start with one chord and move down a fifth to the next chord, and do that until you end up back at the original chord. that way it sounds nice and satisfying and completed. in 'on the bus', which the commenter was referring to, this process is cut short, which would serve no purpose other than making the music sound and feel incomplete or interrupted or unsatisfying.

if i just butchered that whole explanation please let me know, but im pretty sure that's accurate.

here is the video with two of the scenes i talked about, using 'Eight Fifteen' and 'On The Bus'

and just as a reminder, on the bus has only played twice in the entire show. first in the lumax talk on top of the bus in season 2, and second in the byler talk in will's room in s4. 🙂

anyways i hope this was comprehensible😅 i remember my tiktok followers being very confused so feel free to re read and re watch as many times as necessary or reply with any questions! and anyone who has more input on editing/music pls share with the class if you'd like!!

anyways byler endgame, thanks for reading