#someone please talk to me about these two

[partiallysame]

Ghost Gets No Bitches Part 2:

second part to THIS

Word count 1400

Content warning: suggestive, alcohol

When ghost finally texted you the message was something along the lines of: 

Hello. This is the man from (insert specific grocery store name followed by the exact address of said grocery store). 

You: Do I get to know your name or am I just supposed to call you Man From Grocery Store?

Ghost: Simon

Wow ok not a talker but we can work through that. Simon knew he should take you to a proper dinner but you made him so anxious he needed somewhere safe. Comfortable. Ah yes the closest bar to his base that he goes to almost daily. When you agreed to the date the panic really set in. He’s gonna be alone with you again (he ran to Price to ask for help on what to do. “You can’t wear the fucking mask” “but why?”)

The second Ghost got out of his car he noticed Soap had followed him to the bar (how could he not, Ghost had been sweating all day about meeting his lil lass again) “you walk in that bar and I’ll put a bullet in you, Mohawk”

“Aye come on. Jus wanna see a little more of the pretty bird that’s got ya all nervous”

 Soap knew he was bluffing about shooting him until Ghost pulled up his shirt enough to show his gun and the silencer attached to it. Yup ok he really would shoot him. Suddenly Soap is back in his car.

And then there you were, picture of perfection walking towards him. Big smile and small dress oh he was fucked. He opened the door for you and you let out a “good boy” as you walked through, an audible gulp came from him. Making your way to the bar to order, you told the bartender your drink, turning to ask Simon what he wanted only to find him standing 4 feet from you, scared to get too close. “Come here.” A command. One giant step and he was by your side. You moved closer until your shoulder was touching him. Control your breathing Ghost. “What do you want big boy?” You looked up at him and he should be embarrassed that you just called him that in front of his favorite bartender but he is definitely not. He said the beer he wanted and you added “two please. He’s nervous” the bartender was trying not to laugh.

“Tab Open or closed?” The bartender asked to which you quickly said open and began sliding your card over. 

“No.” Simon’s voice was deep and gravely and his sudden outburst caught you off guard. He may let you walk all over him but there was no way he, a gentleman would let you pay. 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised, “did you just tell me no?” Voice laced with genuine surprise and his eyes got wide, fuck was he in trouble? He nodded too afraid of how to properly respond but he continued to hand his card over and return yours to you. 

“You only get to tell me that once and that was it.” You scolded him as the barkeep slid the drinks over to you. You grabbed his two beers, one in each hand to hand to your date. He nodded again in response but did not miss the way your eyes were glued to his giant hands when he easily held the two bottles in one hand. 

Making your way over to a booth to sit, someone bumped into you, slightly spilling your drink down your hand. The man kept walking until a large (big sexy) hand grabbed his shoulder. Terrified apologies stumbled from his lips at the sight of Simon. But your hand quickly found its way onto Simon’s chest. 

“It’s not a big deal. Right Simon?” He looked down at you just in time to see you put your fingers in your mouth sucking the spilled drink from them. Christ’s sake woman. Your hand on his chest could feel his racing heart beat. 

“Not a big deal mate.” He let go of (pushed) the man as he watched you finish the walk to the table you wanted. He followed but when he got to the table he just stood there so awkwardly. 

“Simon, sit down. This is a date you know.” He’s sat. You decided that if he wasn’t going to talk then you wouldn’t either. You just sat there watching this giant muscle man fidget in his seat, emotional support beer being held so tightly in front of him. Your eyes taking in all of his features, pretty blue eyes and chiseled facial features. After however many minutes of silence (Simon squirming) you decided it was time for billiards. This is a bar after all. 

“Let’s go play” your head nodding to the empty pool table. The sudden sound of your voice made him jump. For goodness sakes man chill. He downed his second beer as he stood beginning to relax slightly. The bar was starting to get crowded so you reached for his hand before making your way to the table, pulling him behind you. You’re touching him. Fuck your hands are so soft, small compared to his. How would they look holding his…  A small and disappointed “oh” came from your lips as you neared the table. A group of men had gotten to it first but with a quick clear of his throat and deadly stare from Simon they gently handed you the cue ball. You turned to face him and god you were so close to him. He thought you holding his hand was bad? Now your chest is touching his. 

“Ready to lose?” You questioned batting your lashes at him, watching his pupils dilate. 

“I was gonna ask you the same.” You bit your lip at his response, excited to finally get somewhere with this man. There was a stare down for a few moments before you turned to begin the game. 

Were you bad at pool? No. Were you good? Also no. But Simon? Never missed a shot. No no this won’t do. Quickly realizing that you are losing (you only got one turn) you changed the game. Now you’re just standing at the edge of the table, looking pretty, moving the balls around with your hands, demanding trick shots. 

“Orange here to here then this pocket.” Hands pointing around before being placed palms down on the table, cleavage exposed and Simon can’t breathe. He does it and you praise him with another “good boy.” Two more planned shots and now you’re curling your finger, beckoning him closer. 

“8 ball. Corner pocket.” Simon begins to bend to line up his shot when you move so you are sandwiched between him and the table. Breathe Simon breathe. “Go on handsome.” Fuck ok he can do this. His large body easily envelopes yours, slowly bending at the waist and you are pushed down slightly, his chest pressed against your back. Your ass pressed exactly where you want it. Simon’s arms wrap around you to place his hand under the stick to steady it. You wiggled your ass back against his crotch and you could hear him stifle a groan. You can tell he’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but let's make it more fun. You turn your head until your lips are brushing against his jaw, sliding their way up to his ear and the whine that escapes this man at the contact. His hands glued to where they were placed on the table, too scared to move them where he actually wanted them.

“If you make this, you’ll get a reward.” You pressed your body into him more, feeling what was starting to form in his pants and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from a suppressed growl. “But.” you paused for a moment and he thought he was going to break the pool stick from holding on so hard. “But if you miss, your friend from the parking lot is allowed to come play too next time. So whats it gonna be?” You removed your lips from his ear, signalling him to take the shot. A breathy and accidental “fuck me” came from him as he lined up his shot. There was no way he was going to miss this, but when you added “thats the plan” after his last comment he missed the ball all together, pool cue scratching the green fabric on the table. He stood quickly cursing every god there ever was as you spun in his arms now face to face. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck. “What was his name again?”

Part 2.5 Part 3

[fairqves]

୨୧ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

───── IN WHICH your ex boyfriend attempts to win you back with multiple case scenarios!

(🐰) ⟡ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 — ex! 𝓈unghoon & 𝑓! reader .. fluff exes 2 lovers ♡ ◞ wc 1.4K 𓂅 warnings : profanities, kissing.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

BREAKING UP WITH PARK SUNGHOON WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A POWER MOVE.

you were the girl everyone wanted to be—class president, head cheerleader, the girl who never seemed to have a bad hair day.

dating sunghoon, the captain of the school’s ice hockey team, had been the ultimate match.

you were quite literally the golden couple, with his icy, cold demeanor balanced by your warm, bubbly personality. on the outside, you two were perfect.

but on the inside? that was another story.

the breakup took place two weeks ago, and the sheer memory of it still made you grit your teeth. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

“why do you even want to be with me, hoon?” you’d finally snapped after one of his annoyed, cold and distant replies during an argument. you were frustrated to say the least, tired of feeling like your relationship was more about image than anything real.

“do you actually care about me? or do you just care about being the ‘perfect couple’? or the way we look together?”

sunghoon had stood there, frozen as if he were one of the ice sculptures at his hockey matches, completely silent. that had been the last and final straw for you.

“you know what?” you said grabbing your bag aggressively, holding back tears. “forget it. i don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t care enough to fight for me.”

and that was that—you left.

you expected sunghoon to move on quickly, thinking the longest he’d mourn your relationship for would be a few weeks maximum.

he didn’t seem like the type to get hung up on anything, let alone an ex girlfriend. but much to your surprise, that’s not what happened.

ACT 01:

the first time you realized park sunghoon wasn’t going to let you go so easily was during a typical school week hockey game.

it was a friday night, and the rink was packed with everyone on campus—and the rival teams supporters.

you had gone to support your best friend yujins’ boyfriend, one of the players on the same team as sunghoon, and you were trying your best to ignore the way your heart clenched every time you caught a glimpse of sunghoon skating oh-so ethereally across the ice.

he looked as composed as ever—as if the breakup didn’t phase him in any way whatsoever.

his jaw was clenched in determination, his movements were calculated and precise—but when the puck slid toward him in the third period of the game, he completely missed it.

“whoa, that’s not normal..is sunghoon okay?” yujin whispered, leaning closer to you.

you frowned. “i don’t know. that’s not like him.”

what happened next made your jaw drop. instead of chasing after the puck, sunghoon skated straight to where you were sitting in the stands.

“what is he—”

before you could finish, he stopped in front of you, his helmet tucked under his arm, and called out:

“y/n!”

the crowd fell silent, all eyes darting onto you. your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“what?” you hissed.

“can we talk?” he said, his voice echoing through the rink.

you stood up, shocked to the core and glaring at him with bewilderment. “are you serious right now? you’re literally in the middle of a game!”

“of course i’m serious—i’m serious about you,” he shot back, his face completely straight and blank as if his words held no weight whatsoever.

someone in the crowd whistled, and in this very moment you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“you’re fucking insane,” you muttered before storming off with embarrassment.

ACT 02:

sunghoon’s next attempt came the following monday during lunch break—you were sitting at your usual table with yujin and a few of the other cheerleaders when he walked in, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder.

“uh oh…” yujin whispered, elbowing you. “ice boy at six o’clock.”

you turned just as sunghoon approached your table.

“y/n,” he said, his tone as pleading as ever, “can we talk please?”

“i’m eating,” you replied, not looking up from your tray—although most of it was gone already. “no problem. then i’ll talk,” he said, pulling a chair over to sit next to you.

“can’t he take a hint…” yujin mumbled beside you in amusement.

your friends were staring, barely concealing their grins and squeals as sunghoon reached into his bag and pulled out a carefully folded piece of lined paper. he cleared his throat, unfolding it.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s that?”

“a list,” he said, holding it up with a proud and confident grin. “of reasons why we’re the perfect match.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands with a whine. “sunghoon, no.”

“reason one,” he began, shushing you. “you love iced americanos. i hate iced americanos. opposites attract.”

your friends started giggling, and you shot them a warning look.

“reason two,” he continued, “you’re loud, and i’m quiet. we balance.”

“sunghoon—”

“reason three,” he said, his voice softening as he shyly rubbed the nape of his neck, “you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like… i don’t know—like i’m more than just the hockey guy.”

well—that caught you off guard. for a moment, you couldn’t think of a reply.

but of course, he then he ruined it by adding: “reason four, we look really good in pictures together.”

you glared at him, standing up and grabbing your tray. “yeah, no. i can’t do this right now.”

ACT 03: THE FINAL ATTEMPT

you had gone up to the schools rooftop during your free period, expecting to have a quiet break to yourself.

instead to your dismay, you found sunghoon sitting on the edge of the railing, holding a thermos and looking out at the freshly coated snowy campus.

“what are you doing here, sunghoon?” you asked, crossing your arms in exhaustion at the similar game of cat and mouse.

he turned, his expression unreadable to you. “i’m sorry..i just— i wanted to see you.”

you sighed, sitting down a few feet away from him. “you’ve seen me plenty. what do you want this time?”

“i want you to know that i’m truly sorry,” he said, his voice quiet as he played with his fingers nervously.

you looked at him, shocked and pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability in his tone.

“i’m know i’m not good at… talking about my feelings,” he admitted, fidgeting with the thermos. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t feel them.”

your chest tightened. “sunghoon—”

“i know i made you feel like you didn’t matter, and didn’t show you love,” he said, cutting you off.

“like i cared more about how we looked than how we felt. but that’s not true. you’ve always been more to me than..than the ‘perfect couple’ thing.”

you stared at him, the frustration and hurt you’d been grasping onto so tightly beginning to melt away.

“i don’t care if we’re a perfect couple,” you said softly. “i just need to know you care—i need to know if you truly care for me.”

he hesitated for a moment, then held out the thermos.

“i made hot chocolate,” he said. “because you always said you wanted someone to bring you hot chocolate on a cold day.”

you blinked, startled by the gesture. to a strangers eye—it was small. but to you, it was sunghoon telling you that he did in fact care.

“okay,” you said, taking the thermos.

“okay?” he repeated, hope flickering in his eyes.

you nodded, smiling and feeling a heavy weight off your shoulders for the first time in weeks. “okay.”

NO MORE ACTS.

by the next hockey game, the joy around school was back.

everyone was talking about how the ‘it’ couple was “official” again, and while you normally hated the childish gossip, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest every time someone mentioned it.

after the game, sunghoon skated over to your section, his helmet under his arm.

“hot chocolate after this?” he asked, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

“sure,” you said, grinning.

as he turned to leave, he stopped and glanced back at you, his expression softer as his cheeks flushed pink. “can i get a kiss?”

you snorted. “no.”

“pleaseee?” he said, dragging out the word dramatically.

“no.”

“babe,” he whined, stepping closer to the railing. “please, please, please?”

you rolled your eyes, fighting off the grin making its way onto your face as you leaned over slightly. “fine, just one.”

the kiss was short and quick, barely more than a brush of your lips against his—but when you pulled back, the sight of his smile was so bright that you couldn’t help but laugh in adoration.

“you’re so stupid,” you said, shaking your head.

“and you love it,” he replied, skating away with a hand blown kiss.

you couldn’t deny that.

© FAIRQVES 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. new layout WOOHOO !! semester two has been violently kicking my ass and it’s only been 2 days… idk anymore guys i’m severely unhappy and have 818282 mental breakdowns a day but oh well 😞✊

୨୧ TAGLIST ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[covenofagatha]

Practice makes perfect

Agatha makes you build up your stamina until she actually lets you fuck her

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: g!p reader, virgin!reader, sex, age gap, fleshlight, degradation, humiliation kink, Agatha is MEAN and reader very much gets off on it, premature ejaculation, masturbation, reader is a walking HR violation, cumming in pants

When Agatha Harkness finds out you’re a virgin, she actually laughs. 

You’re a junior in college interning at your dad’s multi-billion dollar company over the summer, a nepo-baby at its finest, and so what if you have the hots for the general counsel? So what if you get hard every single time she even looks in your direction? 

You try to flirt with her, you’re as bold as you can be without her going straight to HR, and yet she barely even gives you the time of day. Deep down, you can tell she likes you though. She humors you and doesn’t tell you to shut up whenever you start to talk, so that must mean something. The two of you have formed quite the relationship since the summer started, with you saying the filthiest things to her and her brushing them off as if they were casual anecdotes. 

“I’d make you feel so good, Agatha,” you tell her one day. “I’ll fill you up so nicely.”

It might be pushing the limits — it’s your third pathetic attempt this day at getting her to reciprocate, but she’s used to it by now; it hardly even fazes her. Everyone in the office knows that their boss’s daughter has a cock, and they also know that their boss’s daughter has a filthy mouth, always saying something vulgar and sarcastic. No one takes anything that comes from your lips as serious. You’ve been called a spoiled, entitled, rich bitch, told that you’re heartless for not giving a damn about anything, expelled from three high schools for the explicit jokes that you make.

But your “jokes” to Agatha are the only thing you’re serious about. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes; at twenty-five years your senior, she has had plenty of experience with girls that promise her the world and barely deliver on any said promises made. “I’m not some quick college lay that lets you rub my upper thigh and pretends that you’ve found my clit, you know.” 

It’s your turn to scowl. “Who do you think I am?” you ask and she fixes you with a pointed glare from behind her desk. “I know where the clit is.” 

“How many women have you actually satisfied?” she asks and your cheeks heat up. You figured it would come up eventually, but now you don’t actually want to answer. You duck your head and Agatha makes a noise, not exactly surprised, but almost disappointed. “You think I’m going to let a virgin fuck me? You probably wouldn’t even last two seconds inside me.”

“Hey, I’d last longer than that,” you snap, your head shooting back up to look at her incredulously. You can feel a slight stirring in your lower stomach at the thought of blowing your load the instant she gets inside you and how she would most definitely mock you for it. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and chuckles cruelly. “Honey, please. Go back to your desk and get your work done. I’m definitely not having sex with someone who can’t finish reading over a simple contract.” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, and she makes a face at you before you get up out of the chair in front of her desk you were lounging in. “Might have to go to the bathroom real quick and jerk one off though.” 

She crinkles her nose and waves her hand at you dismissively and you think that you’ve just blown all your chances with her. She’s definitely not going to want to fuck you now. There is some speculation floating around about your lack of experience and that’s why you overcompensate with the explicit things you say — libel you tell them, but deep down it’s accurate — and if Agatha, who has certainly had her fair share of partners, knows it’s real, then she for sure won’t waste her time with you. 

So you go back to your desk and begrudgingly get all your work done, emailing Agatha your thoughts about the contracts when you’re all done. She sends back a Very good job, y/n and you hate to admit that it gets you hard. You’d like nothing more than to go fuck yourself in the restroom but you stay at your cubicle until Agatha walks by so you can see her before she leaves for the day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you call after her as she breezes by your desk without saying a word. It’s the last day of the third fiscal quarter today, and as a reward, tomorrow your dad is bringing his executive staff to your beach house in The Hamptons for a week. Because you’re part of the family, you get to attend, but none of the other interns do. 

It’s been this way since you were little, but only recently did you start to notice how attractive Agatha was. The way she takes absolutely no shit from anyone, even from your dad. The way she coolly holds her ground in the face of IRS audits, FBI raids, and anything else that got thrown at her. The way she raises an eyebrow at you when you say something stupid and it makes your cock hard in seconds. Everything about her drives you fucking wild. 

Agatha lifts a hand up in response, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at you, and your pants tighten almost uncomfortably. 

The second you get back to your apartment, you undo your belt and unzip your pants, reaching inside to take out your hard and leaking cock. Your hips thrust forward at the warmth from your hand and you gasp, the pleasure already dizzying. You think about Agatha on her knees in front of you, looking up at you through her glasses, telling you that you’re just a pathetic slut who will never be able to make her feel good. 

It takes three strokes of your hand before you grunt and your cock pumps out three long spurts of cum all over the kitchen counter. You grab a paper towel, dampen it, and then wipe up your mess before going to take a shower. 

You might have a serious problem. 

And it’s only going to get worse this week. An entire seven days where you’re going to be around her. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’re going to be hard for most of it. Is there a record for the most times a person has cum in a day? Because you think you might break it. 

That night, you have a dream about Agatha, as many of your dreams are. She’s sitting in a chair right by the bed, legs outstretched and open and her feet are resting on the duvet. You’re laying stomach-down, cock hard between your body and the covers, mouth watering. Agatha is completely naked, her cunt glistening, and the dream is so realistic that you can smell her. She laughs when you groan pitifully. 

Then she buries two fingers inside her and your hips lurch against the bed, gasping at the stimulation on your cock. 

“Look at you, humping the bed like a bitch in heat,” she snarls and your rhythm stutters. You garble out something incoherently and she laughs before rubbing her clit with her other hand. “Can’t even fuck me right, so I have to do it myself.” 

You moan loudly, grinding against the bed furiously, and she picks up her thrusts to match your face. “I can, please, I want to,” you beg before she cums all over her fingers. She pulls them out of her and then slides them into your mouth and you cum all over the bed and your stomach. 

When you jerk awake right after that, the first thing you notice is how sticky you are. You must have cum in your underwear from just your dream and it’s just further evidence of how completely fucked you are for the next week. 

There will certainly be no swimming for you because you don’t need the entire executive board and your father knowing that you’re getting hard for the forty-six year old general counsel. 

But fuck, Agatha in a swim suit — 

You cut yourself off from the thought because you don’t have enough time to get worked up again. 

Good thing too, because by the time you do get yourself all cleaned up from your little nighttime accident, you have to leave to get to the helicopters. 

There’s no sign of Agatha yet so you make awkward small talk with Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, because you have nothing better to do. She’s new and attractive, but no one gets your cock stirring like Agatha. You wonder if it’s the fact that she’s older and it taps into your mommy issues, or the fact that she can cut you down with a simple sentence and you’ve found that you have a huge thing for degradation, or the fact that she’s never going to let you touch her no matter how hard you beg. 

She drives you crazy and you fucking need her. 

Finally, Agatha pulls up in a company car and gets out, wearing a gray pantsuit, and you already feel your face heating up. She gets into one of the two helicopters without even looking at you and you make a beeline for it before your dad stops you and pulls you into the other one. You can’t exactly tell him that you want to be next to his general counsel, so you grumble to yourself before agreeing. 

It takes only about forty-five minutes to get to the house and the next hour is full of unpacking and the wait staff running around, trying to get everyone everything they need. 

Lunch is served and everyone gathers in the dining room except for Agatha, so you excuse yourself and try to go find her. 

You’re just “happening” to be walking by her room when she opens the door to step out, almost bumping into you. 

“Your quick solo session take a bit too long?” you ask crassly, delighting in the way her eyes roll exasperatedly. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll get you there quickly.”

She starts walking to the dining room, leaving you behind so you have to speed to catch up. “If I ever want someone to cum after three pumps inside me and leave me even more unsatisfied than I was before, I’ll make sure to let you know.”

“Hey, I’d lay you badly, but I’d lay you gladly,” you say as seductively as possible and she snorts. “Come on, you gotta admit you’ve at least thought about it.” 

Agatha spares you a glance. “When I’m trying not to cum. It’s a real turn-off for me personally.”

You also love how she gives as good as she gets. “Please?” you ask, whine, beg. “I’ll be so good for you — I’ll make you feel so good.”

She sniffs and rakes her eyes over your body, pausing at the outline of your cock through your pants. Before you even realize what’s happening, she’s pushed you against the wall and her hand cups your cock and you gasp while bucking into her touch. 

“Really?” Agatha chuckles. You make a muffled sound and try to grind up and she rubs her palm against you, making you throb. “You think you could make me feel good with your cock that’s already about to cum for me?” 

“Yes,” you choke out and she squeezes harder. You’re panting open-mouthed now, trying so hard to hold back from your release. 

She is completely unaffected as she leans in to whisper, “You’re so fucking pathetic,” into your ear and you whimper, your stomach twists, and your cock pulses before pumping loads of cum into your pants. You chant swears under your breath while you cling to her arms for dear life and she watches amusedly as a stain spreads on your pants. 

You’ve never been more of a mess in your life and she just smirks smugly before giving your cock a patronizing pat. 

“I’ll tell your dad you’ll be a little late to lunch.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely agape against the wall, cock still twitching in your pants. 

It’s hard to make eye contact with her the rest of the day without heat flushing through your cheeks and the memory of what she did to you making your cock stir. 

The second you can escape after dinner, you do. You fully intend on spending the rest of the night fucking yourself silly and trying to rid your brain of Agatha.

But around ten, there’s a knock on your door and you swing it open to find Agatha standing there in silk, navy pajamas and black glasses. Your jaw drops open and she brushes right past you to walk into your room and tosses something on the bed. 

A fleshlight. 

“What—” you start to say, but you can’t even finish your question because all the blood in your brain has rushed down to your cock in record time. 

Agatha turns to face you, hands on her hips, lips pursed. “Show me that you can last five minutes with it—” nods at the toy, “—and we’ll see about me letting your cock anywhere close to me.” 

Your breaths come out staggered and you stumble over to the bed, head spinning. There’s no way this is actually happening. You shove down your sweatpants and boxers and your cock bobs up, rigid and hard and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

“God, already?” she snorts and your cock twitches. “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” 

A muffled whimper escapes your lips and you give yourself a quick stroke. “Fuck.” You reach for the fleshlight, heat completely overwhelming your body, but she stops you first. 

“Spit on yourself,” she orders and you watch her with wide and pleading eyes as a strand of saliva drops from your mouth onto your cock. You feel like you’re in a trance as you spread it out along your length, the wetness of your spit and precum coating your cock and making it glisten in no time. “Fucking pathetic.” 

Her jeers only make you harder and this time, she doesn’t object when you grab the toy. You think you can hear her sharply inhale when you drag your cock against the fake pussy lips and you already know there’s no fucking way you’re going to last one minute, let alone five. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” you babble before pushing your tip in and instantly freezing at the silicone ridges squeezing around you. You sigh heavily before your breathing quickens and you’re practically panting by the time you get your entire cock inside the fleshlight. 

Agatha’s face is unreadable. “I’m impressed you made it in,” she says, coldly and completely dry, and it makes you thrust into it. It feels so good, even though it’s just a cold, plastic toy and you can only imagine how the real thing would feel. “Well, get on with it. Chop chop, honey. I haven’t got all night to watch your sorry attempt at proving you can fuck me.” 

You grunt and start moving your cock in and out of the toy, whines falling out of you, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not cumming too soon. You want to last — you need to last for her, because she might actually let you touch her if you. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts and your cock throbs. “Open your eyes.” 

You obey, and the moment you see her, see the slight redness of her cheeks, you know you fucked up. 

With a loud grunt, you cum in the toy, filling it with so much of your seed that it spills out of the fake cunt and drips onto the floor as you continue snapping your hips up. 

Agatha laughs and walks straight to the door. “Not even thirty seconds. Maybe next time.” 

You are absolutely fucked. 

The next night, you’re almost to two minutes while desperately trying to think of anything else other than Agatha standing right there. She’s watching intently, like she’s studying your technique and critiquing it in her head, and you’re doing really well — you think you might actually have a chance to get to five. The secret is thinking about all the boring contracts you had to read this summer to keep your mind off the overwhelming pleasure you’re getting from the toy.

But then Agatha steps closer to you, runs a finger over your lips and down to cup your breast, and says, “God, you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” so sickly sweet. 

It makes you curse before filling the toy up again, your body completely betraying you. 

“That wasn’t fucking fair,” you try to argue. 

She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, honey,” she coos and it’s so fucking condescending. Your cock twitches inside the toy. “It’s not my fault you’re so pathetic you can’t control yourself.”

“Yes, it is,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe you should cum before I get here so you might have a chance at lasting for five minutes,” she taunts and you’re too embarrassed to tell her that you already got off before she came tonight. Clearly it did not work. 

You figure that maybe you just need to cum more throughout the day to build up some stamina. You fuck yourself with the fleshlight in the morning after you wake up with morning wood because surprise, surprise: you had another dream about Agatha. When she takes a sip of her orange juice at breakfast, eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks on the straw, you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and it only takes you about six strokes before you’re cumming all over your hand. It’s a long day of lounging around the pool and hushed conversations, and the moment Agatha steps out onto the desk in a sensible one-piece, you have to wrap a towel around your waist so no one sees your erection through your swim trunks to run back to your room, hastily saying that you forgot sunscreen. You cum into the fleshlight in about three minutes. 

And about thirty minutes before she shows up to your room at 10 pm on the dot, you have another quick session with your hand. 

You are absolutely determined tonight. 

When she strolls in through the door, the air is different. She’s carrying a glass of Scotch and you snatch it as she walks past you, downing the rest in one sip. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” she asks, eyebrow raised and giving you a once over. 

You laugh sarcastically before setting the cup down on the nightstand and tearing your shirt off over your head, not missing the way her gaze flicks down to your nipples. Usually, you just take your boxers off, but tonight, you want her to see all of you. 

“A little arrogant, hm?” 

Nodding your head, you spit onto your cock and stroke it to full hardness. This is also the first time you haven’t had a raging erection the second she arrived. Before she can say anything, you’ve grabbed the fleshlight and started thrusting your cock into it. It feels good, but you’ve become so desensitized to it, just from today, that you’re feeling more confident than ever. 

Agatha realizes this, sees it on your face. “Wow, look at my slut,” she croones. “She finally learned how to fuck herself. Doesn’t mean you can fuck someone else though. I bet the moment you get inside me, you’ll cum because you’re too fucking pathetic to actually make me feel good.” 

The degradation goes straight to your cock and you grunt, pausing for a second before resuming. The smirk on her face is as frustrating as it is hot and only makes it harder to think clearly. 

“You’re just a worthless little whore, aren’t you?” she snarls and your breaths become shallow and your thrusts become more like quick ruts into the toy. 

“Yes, fuck,” you moan quietly, tightly, and god she’s not playing fair at all. The toy is squeezing you so hard and it’s becoming tougher to keep fucking it, but the prize of getting to be inside Agatha is so close if you can just hang on. 

She scoffs sharply but you can see the heat on her face. Fuck. She likes this. “How are you not absolutely humiliated by yourself and how desperate you are?” she says, getting meaner, and precum is leaking out of the toy each time you drive your cock back into the toy. If you weren’t actively using all of your effort to keep from cumming, you think you would’ve filled up the fleshlight at least three times by now. Agatha is trying so hard to break you, but you refuse. 

The most excruciating five minutes of your life finally end, and you are so fucking triumphant. “We had a deal,” you remind her hoarsely. 

“Stop acting like lasting five minutes is an accomplishment,” she scorns and you have to pull the toy off your aching erection or you actually might cum. Your cock bobs up and down, trails of precum dripping onto the floor and down your length. You’ve made such a mess. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and your heart stops. 

You lay on the duvet, resting your back against the pillows, and watch with bated breath as Agatha slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt. You whine when you can see her tits, round and perky, and you need to get her rosy nipples in your mouth immediately. She takes off her shorts and you can’t help but hump the air, your cock engorged and neglected. 

“Please,” you sob. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She mockingly coos and then climbs onto the bed with her underwear still on, straddles your hips, and she slowly grinds against your cock. A loud, high-pitched keen tears itself out of your mouth and you buck up into her, but she tsks and hovers above you. “Patience, pet,” she says and there are literal tears in your eyes from how hard you are. 

Agatha reaches down and pulls her panties to the side and rubs her clit for a moment. 

“Can I—”

“—touch me? No. There’s no way you’d make it inside me then,” she sneers and you hate to admit that she’s right. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your cock jumping when she slides two fingers in herself. Your head is spinning, completely drunk with need for her. 

She takes pity on you and grabs your cock, angling it at her entrance. “It’s okay, honey. You’re just a little baby. My little, pathetic, desperate baby.” 

And then she slides down on your cock in one slick motion and your hands scramble to dig into the bedsheets and a loud, strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and you cum instantly, the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you too much to bear. 

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh as you rut into her frantically. She just waits for you to finally calm down before squeezing her cunt around you. It makes you gasp. “I knew you couldn’t last,” she says, slowly starting to bounce up and down your cock. 

“Too sensitive,” you whine and she clucks her tongue. 

“Well, you promised that you were going to fuck me, didn’t you?” 

Your cock has softened inside her, your cum starting to leak out of her pussy, and she collects it with her fingers and starts to rub her clit. Her walls spasm around you and you twitch. You nod your head and bite your lip — she is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

It takes a few minutes of Agatha clenching around you to bring you back to full hardness, a speedy recovery even by your standards, and she starts to ride you for real. 

“Good thing you’re the poster child for instant gratification,” she grunts, lifting herself up and then back down. There’s such a mess between the two of you that there’s squelching sounds each time she moves on you. You’re practically frozen beneath her and all you can do is watch as she fucks herself on you. “Just need to make you cum before actually being able to use you. I’ll train you so well, make you nothing into more than a cock for me to fuck.” 

You finally regain the ability to think and start desperately thrusting up into her, needing more than anything to make her moan, to make her cum. She’s riding you faster and harder and her chest is becoming flushed and you think she might actually be getting somewhere. 

But she squeezes around you again and fucking groans and you never stood a chance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck — Agatha, I’m gonna — fuck!” you cry and erupt inside her again, painting her walls white once again. You’re not even sure if you made it five minutes inside her. 

Agatha slows down on top of you and you wince at the overstimulation of her still wrapped around you. 

“Did you?” It’s a stupid question, one you already know the answer to, but you’re hoping that maybe you got it wrong. 

Her laugh tells you that you did not and she slides off you, your cock flopping against your stomach in a sticky puddle, and she grabs the edge of the blanket on your bed to wipe the globs of cum oozing out of her. Fuck. You’ll never be able to use that blanket without getting hard again and you know that you’ll be fucking the fabric every single day for the rest of your life. 

She flops down next to you and you wonder if it would be foolish to ask her to stay. “It’s not that easy to make me cum, pet. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[imujings]

[ot13] 13 ways to say three little words

synopsis. | the words that seventeen use to say i love you.

♯ pairing(s). | seventeen x gn!reader (all separate) ♯ genre(s). | fluff, established relationships ♯ wc. | 1.5k ♯ warnings. | cursing (k.sy), eating habits (j.ww), insecure thoughts (l.jh), crying (x.mh), food mentions (k.mg, c.hs)

jay’s musings. | 🎧 my heart it beats for you - grent perez

001 — 🍒. Before you can even unfasten your seat belt, Seungcheol's door clicks shut and he's on your side of the car, his smile warming you up through the window. You immediately make a noise of protest, seeing the numerous grocery bags lining his arms. He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head as he opens the door for you. "Let me handle it." He knows you’re able to do it yourself, but why should you when he’s there, ready to help in less than a moment’s notice? (That, and he takes pride in the way your eyes savor his biceps.) You can pout all you want, sure, yet the man will just kiss your forehead, telling you that you can help him by unlocking the front door and making yourself comfortable inside.

002 — 🪽. “Come over here, please,” isn't as uncommon of a phase as you think it would be from Jeonghan. He's not one to beg—and would never admit to doing so in front of someone other than you—but there’s something about the way you bundle into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but his sweater, that makes his heart squeeze. His stomach does a cartwheel at your sleepy smile and the words tumble out of his mouth in a soft, lethally desirous whine. When you glance over at his request, the man’s lips are pursed, displeased at the fact that you aren’t currently curled into his side. Unfortunately for you, he won’t say anything more until you giggle and relent to his wishes, falling into his arms as he tells you just how much he’s missed you.

003 — 🦌. Joshua’s beaming smile greets you in your kitchen, his shining eyes drinking in the tiredness of your own. You must’ve woken up from a nap. “I was just thinking about you,” the man says while turning away from the stove with a mug in hand. It’s your favorite hot drink, still steaming with heat. You graciously thank him and soak in the warmth of the beverage. The patter of rain outside does nothing to help you wake up for productivity, and you know for a fact this won’t contribute anything to it, either. Even more so when he’s already guiding you to your cozy living room, his arm circling around your waist and asking what show you want to put on.

004 — 🐈. As the two of you hop into the taxi, hand in hand, Jun’s quiet question reaches your ears. “Sit next to me?” You still don’t really understand why he asks every single time, especially when it’s only you two traveling. But of course, you agree, and he sacrifices the window seat to sit in the middle, head already falling to your shoulder with a sleepy drawl. Your cheek rests against the man’s hairline as you gaze out the window. You’ll wake him up when you reach your destination, huffing that that’s the last time you’ll let him pull a dirty trick like that, but not before you press a soft kiss to his temple and intertwine your fingers with his.

005 — 🐯. When Soonyoung asks you if you had recently switched the brand of shampoo and conditioner you use, you have half the mind to tell him straight up how weird it is that he’s smelling your hair. He barks out a laugh at your comment, saying that it’s not his fault you have a certain aura, scent, and vibe to you that he would notice even the slightest amount of change. His laugh quickly fades when you ask just what the hell he could possibly mean. Face slowly warming at the incredulous way he stares at you, as if you had asked why the sky was blue, the man’s next words make you melt. “What are you talking about? I notice you all the time.”

006 — 🦊. It’s almost two in the afternoon when a takeout bag is placed down on the table next to you, the smell wafting from it suspiciously similar to your favorite food. “Have you eaten today?” Wonwoo’s question has you flinching, eyes blinking up and away from your computer for the first time in what feels like hours. His own eyes soften at your demeanor, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in before beginning to take the food and utensils out. The man doesn't say anything more about the topic, instead opting to give you little updates about his day. As you two eat together, he lets his thigh press against yours, and you indulge yourself—just this once. (Until he, like always, shows up again.)

007 — 🍚. The poem is short and sweet. You had wracked your brain all night trying to find the perfect words to encapsulate how you feel, but as you stand before Jihoon now, your nerves are on fire. You watch as his eyes take in the curves of your handwriting, silent. He probably thought these simple words were unoriginal. Boring. Cheesy. Meaningless. You’re snapped out of your self-deprecating thoughts when the man suddenly coughs loudly, hiding his reddening face beneath his hands. His tone is meek. “Ah, you’re really something, aren’t you?” But he’s grinning, and then his lips crash into yours with a desperation you’ve never felt from him until now.

008 — 🐸. Your vision is blurry, and you aren’t really sure where you are until Minghao’s soft, reassuring voice and soothing hand at your back are processed by your brain. “I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs. You hiccup and cling to him, your sobs slowly subsiding. It’s a little hard to breathe for a while, but with his help you’re able to lean back against your cushioned couch without feeling like the world is crumbling around you. When the man goes to make you a cup of tea you beg him to stay with you, but he merely shakes his head, wiping away the tears on your streak-stained cheeks. “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay strong now. I believe in you.”

009 — 🐶. Rows of stocked shelves with various yummy foods do nothing to distract you from your goal. You tug on Mingyu’s sleeve and ask him if you two could have a certain food you’ve been craving lately for dinner. An apology is ready to spill right after, knowing he probably already had prior plans for what to cook, but he doesn’t even hesitate before turning into a different aisle where he knows the ingredients lie. You let out a little cheer that confuses and amuses the man all at once. Why are you even entertaining the idea of him saying no? It’s your world, and he’s just living in it. “Of course,” he hums when you thank him profusely. “Whatever you want.”

010 — ⚔️. In the dead of winter, Seoul’s city air is, quite frankly, freezing. The scarf covering your face, along with your mittens and thick winter coat, all feel like thin notebook paper against the biting winter wind. Seokmin, on the other hand, is snugly encased around your arm and giggling all the while during your walk. “You’re so warm!” he laughs, the man’s gloved hands digging into your clothes like you’ll float away if he isn’t careful. He doesn’t even have a hood on, and you scold him for this, to which he just hugs you tighter. A particularly harsh gust of wind threatens to topple you two over and he presses his face to yours, skin surprisingly toasty. “No, I’m okay, really. I mean, how can I be cold when I’m with you like this?”

011 — 🍊. Seungkwan fiddles with the photograph in his hands. “We knew each other too late.” His gaze is almost mournful, and it tears at your heart, resting your head on the man’s shoulder as you murmur that fate has its reasons. He huffs as he slides the photo—one of you and him from an outing, smiling with cheeks pressed against each other—into its placeholder that’s colorfully decorated with stickers and annotations in pen. Closing your shared scrapbook of memories, he lays his head on yours and speaks softly into the silence. “You don’t understand. I wish I could’ve known you longer. I wish I could’ve made more memories with you. I wish I had known you sooner.”

012 — 🐢. Your hand is already on the doorknob when you call out to Hansol that you’ll be going to run some errands. To your delight, the man is at your side immediately. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” He helps you pick out some bright red strawberries for the shortcake you want to try making tomorrow. He gives his opinion on what flowers would look best on your dining room table (spoiler alert: they’re white tulips). He even goes with you to the post office, standing in line for a whopping thirty seconds as you drop off your return package. On the way back to the car, you ask him what he wants to do next. He shrugs with an easy smile. “S’long as it's with you, I’m cool with whatever.”

013 — 🦦. “I knew you could do it!” Chan cheers, strong arms grabbing your waist to lift you up and spin you around. Your laughter is contagious, infecting him with your symptoms of pure adoration and a lightened heart. He places you gently on the ground, letting go for only a moment before his arms are enveloping you again in a hug. His comforting cologne fills your senses and you relax against his hold. Your body feels weightless, somehow, and any heaviness settled on your shoulders is gone as the man’s lips find the crown of your head. All the hard work, all the sleepless, worrisome nights led up to this moment—and you know you’d do it a thousand times over if given the chance to hear his euphoric words again.

#s — @etherealyoungk, @ylangelegy, @shinysobi, @heartepub, @junplusone, @fallminlove, @wheeboo. if you’d like to be notified when new releases drop, don’t hesitate to send in an ask! <3

[abbyssgf]

𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

• concept: you've come back after a long day to your home, your wife welcomes you with a smile on your face but when she notices that you look exhausted she decided to take care of you

• words: 1,4k

• warnings: none

• author note: uh it's been a stressed and a long week for me and I need to someone hug me so here's the fanfic I've write

you've come back to your house after a long day at work. you were tired, your muscles were sore, you've got a headache from exhaustion and the one thing you were actually thinking about was going to your house and just laying down on your bed and falling asleep after a long day. 

you sighed and laid your coat on hook and laid your purse on the floor, you were so tired that you didn't notice when your wife found herself next to you and was smiling at you waiting for you to take off your things. you turned your head to her and when she saw your exhausted face her smile immediately dropped and her gaze softened "oh, baby" she murmured and hearing her voice after all day your eyes filled with tears from being so fucking tried.

"Come here," sevika murmured to you and wrapped her muscular arms around you, you immediately snuggled into her chest and wrapped your arms around her cuddling to her. tears started to fall down on your cheeks from exhaustion that was in your body. "hey, hey" sevika cooed to you and planted a soft kiss on the side of your face "let it down, babe, i've got you" sevika murmured softly to you and you just let yourself to drop your though side after all day at work. you could feel how sevika's rough hand started to rub circles on your back in a soothing gesture.

sevika knew you didn't need to hear the words 'everything is okay' or 'you're okay' but all you needed was a hug and to take care of you.

after a few moments sevika loosened her embrace of you and she pulled away enough to look at your face. her thumb wiped away some tears from your check and her voice was a soft, worried murmur "i'll take care of you, okay?" you just nod as a response to her words being too tired right now to speak to your wife.

"come on" sevika murmured to you and she wrapped her arm around your waist to hold you up next to her. she guided you to the bathroom, when the both of you entered the bathroom she closed the door behind you.

you sighted quietly looking at your wife, sevika came to the shower and she turned on the water. next thing she did was approach you, she missed you on your forehead and she started to undress you. first your up clothes and then your lower clothes, your underwear and your bra. When you were naked in front of her she undressed herself too, placing her clothes next to yours. you felt slightly guilty that sevika will wash you, sure it wouldn't be the first time when the two of you were taking a shower but… it felt different.

"baby" you started and sevika frowned immediately, before you could add something else she started talking "yes, love? something happened?" she asked you, conceded about you and your well being. "no, everything's fine just…" you hesitate for a moment "you don't have to wash me, i should… it's a normal thing-" you continued but sevika shushed you "baby" sevika said to you and placed a kiss on your forehead to calm down you a bit "it's okay, I don't have a problem to wash you. you're exhausted after today and I want to take care of you, as your wife and as someone who loves you. so please let me okay? and don't worry about anything, i've got your back" 

you relax after sevika's words and you give her a little nod that you understand her. sevika smiled at your gesture and the both of you entered the shower. the water was hot enough to help your muscles relax thanks to it, you weren't that tense up as you were several moments ago.

sevika stood behind you and she wrapped her muscular arms around your waist, one of her hands slipped off to your hips. sevika placed a few kisses on the back of your arms and neck, showing you without a words that she appreciated and admired you. you placed your hands on her arms, sighing quietly feeling that the tiredness slowly disappeared from your body.

you sighed softly "everyone and everything just pissed me off today" you murmured under your breath wanting to tell sevika what happens through your day and what made you so tired after all the day, sevika nodded as a quiet 'i'm listening to you' she reached for the body shampoo and put it on her hands and then started to slowly wash your body.

"sometimes I just feel like I do the most work and it just…piss me off and i'm tired of it" you said to her an sevika placed a light kiss on the back of your neck listening to you while her hands was washing your body with delicacy as if she would be afraid that one wrong move and you would fall apart.

"I know, baby, you have to remember to not to take too much on your shoulders. You deserve a break too, like others people from your work" sevika replied to you and you sighed at her words. "I know" you whispered softly to your wife, happily that she was here, listening to you and taking care of you.

"you're exhausted and overwhelmed with everything, you have to take a break" sevika added as she started to wash the shampoo off your body.

"it's just…I feel that no matter how bad i'm trying it's not enough, that i'm not enough-" you murmured and your voice cracked during your speaking and sevika immediately caught that. "hey" sevika's voice approached your ears "stop. stop it." she said and placed her hands on your hips, for a moment stopping washing you. she turned to you so she could have eye contact with you. 

Her gaze was full of love and concerned for your mental health and how you were thinking of yourself right now in that moment "no one will say bad things about my wife including herself" sevika said and her voice was stern but also soft.  

Sevika placed a gentle kiss on your lips and she wiped away your tears with her thumbs. "you're enough, babe, you're the strongest woman I've ever met, you do everything you can and I'm proud of you" sevika said and you were listening to every word that left her mouth. "and don't even say sorry" sevika added, knowing you had a habit of being sorry even when you didn't have to be. 

you didn't know what you should say to your wife after her words so all you could do was just stare at her with your watery eyes, but sevika couldn't get mad at you. she understands. she knew that sometimes you didn't know what to say. "it's okay" sevika added and placed one more kiss on your forehead. 

"Let's go back to bed, m'kay?" sevika said gently to you and you nodded. Sevika decided that right now you were more important than her and that she'll wash herself after she'll make sure you're feeling better and you'll be in a deep, comfy sleep in your bed.  

"okay" you replied and the both of you left the shower. She takes the towel to wipe you off and herself. Next she gave you your pajamas so you could dress up and Sevika did the same to herself. The both of you wore your usual pajamas and left the bathroom. Sevika wrapped her arm around your waist as you went to your bedroom. 

Sevika went to bed with you, covered you with a blanket and kissed you on the forehead goodnight.

"night, darlin', love you" Sevika murmured to you in a soft voice and you smiled gently "I love you too...and thank you, for everything" you responded to her and Sevika's smile got bigger a little. "you don't have to thank me, I would do anything for you" Sevika said and placed another one last kiss this time on your lips before you fell asleep. 

• taglist: @abbyslvrrr @noacinno @nytloq @l0vel3tterl0ver @pizzabbs @dvrkhcld @sannyangel89 @moondient @maat2hot

[kamospeach]

Hey girl, just read your Eren one shot and I was loving ittt. Could I ask for a one shot of Eren x black female bestfriends who have a flirty relationship but Eren finally makes a move when she gets asked out by someone else? #smutty please ☺️

we might share the same brain cell :P

you don't want me to see nobody else .ᐟ

plot: bestfriend!eren is tired of only being best friends.

content warning: pining, mutual pining, jealous eren, oblivious reader, slut shaming (barely), titty sucking, oral f!recieving, fingering, cowgirl

peachy's yap: i've literally thought about this so many times i love best friend eren in every way !

“her? nah she's my best friend."

"girlfriend... i don't have a girlfriend. oh y/n? that's my best friend."

"yeah we live together but we're strictly best friends."

those were just three of the many different statements eren replied to strangers. strangers being people your friends brought the two of you around. your friends themselves couldn't even tell others what you both had going on.

"y/n and eren? well, they're best friends, and uh... they hug a lot."

"yeah they do that often, she always sits on his lap."

"when did he start holding her waist in public? that's new."

"truthfully i've seen them kiss. on the lips!"

all of it was true you and eren did hug a lot even cuddle when it was cold. you sat on his lap proudly in public, especially at the club you wouldn't dare let some stripper twerk on your best friend. he held your waist when you and your friends walked around the mall looking for things to buy.

you did kiss twice though once at a dinner party on accident when you turned to talk to eren and the same when he tried to kiss your cheek. another time when you both were crossfaded in your room you looked over at your best friend. his eyes were low and his pink lips shiny from chapstick and he looked very fuckable.

but even after that your friendship stayed the same and you didn't falter. you were best friends and even promised to be in the next life. and today was just like every other day.

"ren!" you yelled and eren walked to you from your shared kitchen. you laid on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching a scary movie. he stood at the end of the couch looking at you with a raised brow.

"yeah ma," he asked and you pointed at the tv his eyes followed your finger. you could barely hear the tv from where you sat. "what you scared?" he laughed at you and you frowned.

"no i ain't scared!" you defended although you were truthfully scared that wasn't what you wanted. "remember how your fat ass stepped on the remote and it broke yesterday?" you said and he looked around trying to act like he didn't hear you.

"what about it?" he asked still looking at the TV.

"i can't hear it and we haven't got a new remote. so can you turn it up pleaseeee?" you asked and he scoffed turning up the TV and looking at you to see if you were satisfied. you nodded in approval happy now that you could hear the TV. "thank you, hun."

"mhm you're welcome," he mumbled walking over to you and kissing your forehead. things like that were everyday interactions for you and eren. it was friendly and you never thought of it any other way. you watched the movie until eren came into the living room with two plates.

he handed you one and sat directly next to you in the corner of the couch. you lifted the blanket placing it over eren's legs. he grabbed your legs placed them over his lap and looked down at you.

"what movie is this again?" he asked and you scoffed rolling your eyes.

"i don't know it's on a random channel, no remote remember." you playfully remind him to which he scoffs. he promised he would go out today and buy a new remote after work.

since you took today off you sat in your room all day waiting for eren to return. just for eren to come back with two bottles of Don Julio, a family box of Cheez-Its, and a value pack of sour gummy worms. everything but a damn remote.

"you don't gotta remind me every time." he laughed and you shook your head.

"i'll go get it tomorrow." you laugh as a comfortable silence settles between the two as you both enjoy the meal. after you both finished he left to clean the dishes and returned minutes later. he sat down in his previous spot except this time he pulled you in between his legs. you leaned your against his chest looking up at him.

"hm?" he hummed in a questioning tone and for a second you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to say. lost in his green eyes that you swore swirled hypnotizing you into becoming a mute. his fingers rubbed small circles on the bare skin of your thigh. his other hand under your oversized teachers resting on your stomach.

"you work tomorrow?" you asked and he nodded looking at the time seeing it was getting close to his bedtime. he was trying to stay up later so you wouldn't call him an old man but he was exhausted. "can i ride with you?"

"yea, you can." he cleared his throat standing you up and standing up behind you. "finna go to bed," he mumbled stretching as your eyes never left his happy trail until it was hidden by his shirt again.

"can you sleep in my room? i got scared." you now admit to being scared by the low-budget horror film. he obliged as you both went to your room.

the next day was how you expected stressful, tiring, and overall draining. it was going on 3 pm and you only had one client left. you had two appointments and even did three walk-ins you were beat.

you looked across the tattoo shop at your best friend who looked even more exhausted than you. he was finishing up his last client it was his second large back piece of the day along with 3 smaller tattoos.

eren was always the busiest it was his shop and everyone loved his work. although you, connie, annie, and mikasa were good at what you did, it wasn't beating eren's talent by a long shot. you stood up walking over to his station sitting next to him watching him work.

after another 20 minutes, your client arrived, he was a regular client for you. if you were being honest you gave him discounts here and there because he was fine as hell. whenever he called and needed you to squeeze him in you never told him no.

"wassup y/n." he smiled his white teeth nearly blinding you with its reflection of the sun. you returned his smile patting the back of the seat.

"heyyy come take a seat," you said and got started with the process. you were first sitting in silence until he asked about your day. taking the opportunity to rant about your stressful day.

"man if i known that i would've waited until tomorrow or when you ain't have as many people," he said and you shook your head.

"i'll never tell you no, you know that." you send him a bright smile and he returns the gesture.

"i must be your favorite?" he laughed and you nodded slowly still keeping your main focus on his tattoo.

"you might be..." you say and he sends you a smirk. he was getting cocky and you fed into it.

"then let your favorite client take you out?" he looked at you and as much as your body wanted to freeze up from shock. you stayed calm lightly nodding your head. "not for no free tattoos or nothin'. i been liking you for a while and i've known you for three years now and..." you cut him off as he started to ramble.

"i'll go out with you." you laughed trying to lighten the mood. he was obviously a little anxious but you admired him for asking.

"oh ok cool, bet." he nodded to himself and you smiled the whole time you finished his tattoo. you were just happy someone you found attractive thought the same about you.

after that, you both said your goodbyes and you walked over to eren who sat in his chair waiting for you to finish. he grabbed your bag from you and you both made sure everything was good to be locked up. you switched the lights off following eren to his bike.

"what were you and that guy gigglin' bout?" eren asked handing you your helmet and you shrugged.

"nothin', much he asked me out and that was about it," you tell eren and he freezes turning to look at you. you weren't sure why he looked so shocked at that statement so you chuckled.

"what?" you asked getting on the back of the bike and he shook his head. not bothering to say anything to you he just wanted to get home. he sped home going a little faster than you liked your arms wrapping tightly around him.

once you both made it back home eren wasted no time jumping off the bike. he didn't even look back at you and rushed into the apartment. you followed behind him oblivious to his anger.

"what you want for dinner i'll cook," you say and he shrugs his shoulders walking to his room and slamming his door shut. you stood in front of the door in shock, you and eren never stayed mad at each other.

you shook your head going to your room and deciding on taking a shower. you sat your phone on the counter in the kitchen along with your keys and bag. you went and did your regular shower routine before going to cook. when you came out eren was sitting at the island eating food.

"you doordashed?" you asked and he nodded. looking down at your phone and then back at his food. you frowned seeing your phone had lit up meaning you had gotten a notification. you walked over grabbing your phone seeing it was a text from the client who had asked you out.

6:23 pm

it was good to see your pretty face today how does friday at 7 pm sound?

you smiled at the message about to text back until eren snatched your phone. you looked up at him with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. "eat your food." he nodded in the direction of the bag and you squinted your eyes at him.

"fuck we forgot the remote again." you groaned. eren watched your every move you felt him watching. but you ignored it not wanting him to know that you were nervous from his intense gaze. "what's your problem today?" you asked getting it over with.

"you gonna go out with him?" he asked and you turned to look at him like he had lost his mind.

"why would i not?" you say grabbing your food and sitting next to him. he hummed nodding his head almost like you were irritating him. you both ate your food in silence just as you were about to swallow your last bite eren spoke.

"you ever thought about how it'd make me feel?" he asked and you choked on your food not sure what he meant.

"what?" you asked and he sighed looking away from you.

"i'm just sayin' like we best friends and stuff..." you cut him off assuming he thought you both had to sit down and contemplate whether or not you would date this guy or not.

"you expect me to run to you like you're my father and ask if it's that i date him?" you said now getting angry that eren was acting this way.

"that's not what i'm getting at bruh. i'm sayin' like one guy comes and asks you on a date and you just said yes?" he said and you squinted your eyes at him.

"you callin' me easy?" you asked grabbing your empty plate and throwing it away. not only were you fed up with his attitude his words hurt you.

"no ma that's not..."

"don't 'ma' me. you sittin' here callin' me easy and getting mad that someone showed interest in me. i've never had a boyfriend because they're always scared of you. let me have this one please." you practically beg eren. and then there it was again. that swirling in his eyes that was saying everything and nothing at all. you began to storm off to your room but eren asked a question that made your stomach churn.

"have you ever... thought about me? in that way?" he asked you and you blinked in shock.

"in what way?" you asked, you needed him to be straight up and tell you what he really wanted to know.

"have you ever thought about dating me and uh... being with me?" he asked and you cleared your throat. you never thought you and your best friend would be having this conversation.

"yes i have... maybe a year ago," you admitted and he grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him.

"when we kissed? in your bed?" he asked and you nodded slowly.

"i thought about you for days, months really. i hid the way i felt, i didn't want you to know," you admitted to him.

"i've always felt that way about you," he admitted and you looked at him your eyes running over his face. his eyes, nose, lips, everything that made you feel the way you did a year ago. "don't go out with him... go out with me."

you didn't know what to say but you knew you wanted to kiss him. it had been a year since you felt those lips against yours and you needed him. you were standing between his legs as he sat on the barstool in your kitchen. his hands gripped the exposed skin of your waist as you both stared at each other

you couldn't wait another minute to press your lips against his. the softness of his lips and the urgency in his movements made it all the more sensual. your hands ran along his shoulders finding their way in his hair. you took out his bun letting his hair fall as you ran your fingers through his hair.

"have you ever thought of me like this?" you asked referring to the intimate moment you were both about to have.

"so so so many times," he said breathlessly lifting you like you weighed nothing. he sat you on the counter gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. he stood between your legs and went back to kissing you. his hands found their way to your ass and massage the flesh. your hands rubbed the back of his neck playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

he pushed his tongue in your mouth his tongue roaming around your mouth. the kiss was sloppy spit sloshing and swapping between your mouths. he pulled back as a line of spit followed, both of your chests raising and falling at a fast pace.

he grabbed your jaw pushing your head backward and attacking your neck. you whine at the feeling of his teeth grazing the muscles of your neck. he kissed down your neck and behind your ear, you could hear his rigid breathing. his hands reached under your shirt noticing you don't have a bra on.

"no bra?" he asked smirking and you sighed as he pulled your shirt over your head.

"i just g...got out the shower." you stuttered as he rolled his nipples between his pointer finger and thumb. he pulled at them watching your eyes flutter close at the feeling. he roughly grips your breasts fondling them and looking at you.

"put em' in my mouth," he instructed looking up at you through his lashes. your eyes widened at the thought and he nodded letting you know he was serious. he stuck his tongue out as you grabbed your boob placing it on his tongue.

his mouth latched around your breast sucking and lightly biting at your nipple. his hand grabbed your right boob fondling and playing with your nipple until he switched. he sucked so hard that you felt your need cunt clench around nothing wanting him in you so bad. your hands played in his hair pulling him away from your chest.

"why'd you do that?" he frowned looking up at you. his eyes were 3 shades darker.

"i need you..." you whined and he smirked at your neediness. he lifted you off the counter kiss you as he walked over to the couch placing you on your back.

"can i take off your shorts?" he asked and you nodded. he took off your shorts looking at your skimpy panties that were soaked. your juices creating a wet spot on your pretty pink panties. eren spread your legs his nose nudging the spot sniffing your scent.

eren let out a guttural groan and the smell and pulled off his shirt. his body was nothing new to you but seeing him hover above you with his shirt off made it so much more sensual. he unbuttoned his pants taking them off followed by his boxers. he was huge not as big as you imagined but to be fair you imagined him to be 13 inches.

although he wasn't as long as he was in your wet dreams, 8 1/2 inches was bigger than most. he was bigger than most of the guys you followed on twitter. you reached up grabbing his dick and your hand couldn't even wrap all the way around it. you stroked him slowly and he threw his head back his cock already twitching from the feeling.

"let me taste you," he mumbled and you looked up at him with a smile. you wanted to tease him, he was a naturally dominant man. even one second to be a tease was enough to make you feel superior.

"what was that rennie?" you asked in a seductive tone rubbing your thumb across the slit of his tip playing with the stickiness of his precum.

"i said let me taste you," he said louder this time and you nodded. spreading your legs. eren gripped your panties easily ripping them down the middle. your lips and swollen clit on full display your entrance dripping your wetness. "such a pretty pussy... so wet for me." he hummed leaning down to lick a long stripe down your folds.

he sucked on your clit and now and then teased your entrance with his tongue. he groaned into your pussy while he eat you out your body squirming under the feeling. your legs tried to squeeze together trapping his head between them, the feeling so overwhelming.

eren pushed your legs open letting up from your clit. his thumb swirled over your clit and you moaned loudly from the feeling. without warning he pushed his middle finger in fingering you roughly.

"you like that baby?" he asked with a raised brow and your head was thrown back as you moaned loudly at the feeling. he didn't get an answer from you so he pushed in a second finger. you whined at the pressure of a second finger. "you keep ignoring me i'll add a third." he said deeply and you pushed your limits thinking there was no way he would.

he fingered you vigorously so fast that you could hear your juices sloshing. your cunt tightened around his fingers. loving the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. since you didn't answer eren did as he said he would add another finger in. you squealed he was stretching you so good and the feeling was overwhelming.

"m'close ren." you moaned feeling that feeling in your stomach.

"tell me how much you love it then i'll let you cum." he said and your voice was giving out from your moaning and screaming. "c'mon ma just three words." he taunted you while he fingered your wet, needy pussy. he ground his hips into the couch getting harder by the minute watching you leak all over the couch just from his fingers.

"i love it ren fuck!" you yelled and he smirked as your body gyrated from the orgasm begging to be released.

"cum for me baby, cum for your best friend rennie." he said as you let go cumming hard, your cream coating his fingers as your body shivered from the pleasure. "gooood girl," he said pulling his cream-coated fingers out of your cunt. he pushed them into your mouth as you sucked and slurped your cream off his fingers.

he pushed them down your throat making you gag on all three of his thick digits. you smiled at him as he leaned down kissing you. his tongue dancing with yours as he tasted you on your tongue. you sat up pushing him down on the couch. he leaned against the back of the couch as you straddled his waist.

"you sure?" he asked and you nodded wanting to show him what you could do. although you never had a boyfriend didn't mean you never had sex. you wanted to show eren what he had been missing.

you planted your feet on the ground lowering yourself onto him. he moaned in your ear and you whimpered at the way his cock stretched you. he was way thicker than those three fingers he used earlier. you lowered yourself fully onto him until your ass met his thighs.

your eyes were closed and your body ground into his, enjoying the feeling. after you adjusted to the size you began to ride him. your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands gripping your waist.

"fuck baby you feel so good, so wet, fuck." he groaned as you fastened your pace bouncing on his cock. you couldn't slow down you couldn't take it slow, not with the way you felt every inch of his cock stroking your insides.

"mmm ren." you moaned leaning your chest against his kissing him biting on his bottom lip. your pace slowed a little until eren moved his grip to your ass helping you ride him. still kissing you roughly while he moved you to keep the same fast pace.

his big hands almost covering most of your ass, he slapped one encouraging you to ride him faster. he watched the way your beautiful brown ass rippled from the force.

"you're doing so good ma. make us cum." he tells you as your knees got tired and he grabbed you. "you tired baby?" he asked whispering in your ear.

"mmm mhm." you whimpered out and he nodded. eren turned around so you both were lying the length of the couch. he planted his feet fucking up into you. "ren!" you yelled feeling him roughly fuck into you. it was extremely loud the sound of your bodies colliding and your yelling out from eren's rough thrust was enough for the two of you to get noise complaints.

"you close baby? i'm close." he rambled loving the feeling of your walls clenching and unclenching around him. "play with your clit." he demanded. you listened not in the mood to defy him. you rubbed your clit vigorously watching eren bite his lips as sweat ran down his forehead. his hair stuck to his forehead and his broad shoulders tensed as he fucked up into you with immense force.

"m'cumming ren." you moaned loudly and he grunted.

"me too cum with me ma." he said as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you whimpered out in pleasure. "fuck i love you shit," he said and your eyes widened as his warm cum filled you up. his dick twitching and pulsing as his seed painted your insides white.

"y... you love me?" you asked still sitting on his cock as your mixed fluids dripped down his dick and his balls. your body automatically grinding into his at the feeling of being full.

"of course i do i've told you that so many times," he said giving you a confused look and you shook your head.

"no that was as friends i mean do you love me like a lover?" you asked and he smiled at your explanation.

"i never meant it as a friend," he said and you pouted at his statement and you nodded in satisfaction.

"then i love you too rennie."

[crescenthistory]

2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" but he is NOT "your sister is off limits loyal"

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulsu) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!

♡ [part one]

you’re so indecisive of what I’m saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?

The pounding in your head was a testament to last night’s choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.

After leaving the room with Bangchan—because, of course, that happened—you ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person you’d sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?

As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.

“You’re alive,” Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. “And looking like shit.”

“Appreciate it,” you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. “Really warms the soul.”

Eunji’s smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. “We thought about waking you for breakfast but figured you’d need the recovery time.”

You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldn’t have gotten up anyway.”

"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.

But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. “Oh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoon—my lit classmate—said he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!”

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.

“Apparently, the guy is a structural hazard,” Sohee chimed in, amused. “Minho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?” Your red-haired friend says giggling.

Eunji giggled. “The girl’s lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, I’d consider it an honor.”

You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. “Honestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?”

But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last night—the furniture banging against the wall, Bangchan’s muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunji’s voice yanked you back to reality.

The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girl’s lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."

Lucky. That’s what they’d call you if they knew. Lucky—and a traitor to everything you’d loudly professed about hating him. They didn’t know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.

From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.

The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.

These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldn’t risk dropping. For months, you’d built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.

Worst of all? You couldn’t stop replaying every second of it—and how much you’d loved it.

Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Let’s just say they navigated like someone using a map upside down—an unsurprising disappointment every single time.

Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquests—more women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor you’d rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.

Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettable—and insufferably smug, no doubt.

Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last night’s chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.

You: Up for a morning run?

The reply came in under two minutes.

Hyunjin: It’s two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.

You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you needed—to burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.

You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of course—baggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.

You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didn’t push. Not yet.

The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, you’d pulled ahead. “Okay, okay—hold up,” Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.

You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his tone playful but probing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.

“Uh-huh.” He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. “Then why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?”

Well. There it was. No escaping now.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. “I was... needy, I guess.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasn’t buying it. “Needy, huh?”

“Look,” you said, exhaling sharply, “I’m sorry if it made things weird. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.”

“Relax,” he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “A kiss isn’t going to scare me off. You’re stuck with me.”

His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. “Tell you what—first one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.”

The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you bolted after him. “You’re so on.”

You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.

After he dashed off to rehearse with Felix—because apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but you—a thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.

With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasn’t exactly classified info—every girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.

The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you weren’t here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didn’t care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.

There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.

It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.

Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise.  In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.

"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."

You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.

"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Don’t you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."

He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"

“Right. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.”

Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.

“'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"

You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.

“Isn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"

“I don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.” It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants. 

Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.

"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldn’t care less.

In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."

"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."

The words stung more than they should have. It wasn’t just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didn’t matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didn’t mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasn’t it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.

“Thanks.” You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.

Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopeless—always on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadn’t even done.

Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if that’s what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.

Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. You’d been agonizing over the perfect solo—one that wouldn’t just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.

Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasn’t just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted you—it all melted away. Up there, you weren’t just alive; you were electric. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was instinct.

Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, you’d belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing “Part of Your World” at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for real—no plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audience—it clicked.

This was more than a passion. It was home.

Since high school, your hunger for the stage—and the spotlight—was insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.

Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.

But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didn’t miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.

Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like she’d just carried the weight of the world—and maybe she had. “Okay, kids. Listen up.” Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. “We’re postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.”

Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

What the hell was going on?

“All right, settle down,” Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. “Jun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.”

“You're shitting me.” Nahee’s voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, “Sorry... but seriously—”

“That’s so unfair!” another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. “Basketball and soccer aren’t the only things this university has going for it.”

“I get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.” Mrs. Baek’s tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. “I went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, I’m afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.”

It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.

When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldn’t fix this, but it was something.

“This is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?” Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.

At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...

“Tell me about it, I'm so pissed off!” Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.

“Someone's jumpy.” Sohee leaned across the table. “What's wrong? You three look like shit.”

“It turns out the university cut the theater’s funding in favor of sports.” Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if you’d just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.

You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.

“That sucks.” Felix shot back with a supportive smile. “I know how important the theater is to you guys.”

“Everyone’s been working so hard,” Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. “It’s just... unfair.”

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchan’s nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.

“Car wash?” Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. “Classic fundraiser, right?”

“Sure,” you shot back, deadpan, “let’s exploit women for the sake of art.” Your glare could’ve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine. What about food?” Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. “Muffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.”

Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. “Felix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.”

Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don’t wanna brag, but they’re basically legendary.”

“Alright, then.” Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. “You two make the brownies. And we,” he motioned to himself and Bangchan, “sell them.”

You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.

“I’ve got the perfect idea,”  he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “What? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?”

The grin widened, and that’s when you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldn’t let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.

So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.

Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zone—chocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldn’t quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.

You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.

“Uh… hello?” You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.

“So… newsflash,” he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wanna double that recipe.”

Confusion flashed across your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. “I may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. “You what?”

His grin widened at your disbelief. “You heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.”

It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. “That’s… that’s fantastic!” you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.

Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.” You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.

Before you could dial, Bangchan’s voice cut through your focus. “You shouldn’t go there.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. “It’s a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.” You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. “You can use my dorm. If you want.” He quickly adds the last sentence.

Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchan’s dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. “It’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. “You sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I don’t think you’ve got all night.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. “Fine,” you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. “But only if you help.”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

It turned out Bangchan’s “help” involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, you’d pieced together another puzzle about him.

Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his “dorm” was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchan—polished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.

“Cool place.” You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.

“Thanks.” he gave you a smile. “So, this is the kitchen.” He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Not just for the space but… you know, for helping.”

It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.

His lips twitched into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. He’s helping. 

“Relax,” he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding. There’s booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, sidestepping the offer.

“I’ve gotta sort something out with the coach,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll be back in 20. Think you’ll survive here alone?”

Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. “Yeah, no worries.”

With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.

How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchan’s kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with him—a mistake you’d promised yourself you’d never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.

You weren’t exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you weren’t a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchan’s fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of art—and funding.

While you whisked and poured, you couldn’t resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.

The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. That’s when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.

“Holy shit. Are you all right?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. “You’ve got something… there,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll head back to the dorm and clean this up.”

Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. “I can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “But thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. “Here,” he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “You know you could’ve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one you’re not currently wearing?”

He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. “And where’s the fun in that?”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadn’t just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.

After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchan’s shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.

Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. “Did you know,” he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, “that you’re officially the world’s clumsiest cook? There’s brownie batter... under the sink.”

You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. “Hey, I said I’d clean up,” you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. “And for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. I’m just trying to help.”

Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. “Help? No fucking way. You’re a disaster, love.”

You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. “I didn’t see you stepping up to bake anything.. Let’s see you handle a whisk without breaking something.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’d still be better than whatever chaos you’ve got going on here.”

Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you handle this.” Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.

Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. “I'm sorry, I...”

Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna go?” You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. “Bring it on,” you shot back, face lighting up with mischief. 

You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.

Then, you collided—chest to chest. Bangchan wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didn’t even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.

A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expression—less defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchan’s breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.

Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.

When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.

“I should probably clean up this mess.” your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it should’ve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences. 

“Don’t you dare.” his voice was low, the words like a command you weren’t about to ignore. His eyes locked with yours—intense. “You want this.” his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. “I know you do.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.

“Bangchan.” You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. “We can’t.” you licked your lips—stupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.

You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?

“Oh yeah?” he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. “Tell me one good reason. Just one.”

You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. “Please.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.

The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadn’t just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping it’d drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.

He pulled away, no jokes, no teasing—just silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.

When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what you’d just crossed into.

You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret it—at least, not yet.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p4

Masterpost late, tired, still emotional and physically fragile. please no editing <3

“—ir? Sir?”

Danny mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be a response to that, or befuddlement about being called ‘sir’, or at least something better than ‘wadamehaaftz’. The bite of a tightening blood pressure cuff around his arm helped bring him a little be back to the world. He opened his eyes right into too bright light and winced back in reaction.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the panicked looking barista asked. She was crouched down next to him where he lay on the floor.

Great, now he could never come back to this coffee shop. That was a damn shame, they had really good bagels.

“No,” Danny managed to make his mouth say. “Seizure. Newish thing for me. I’m fine—will be fine. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should stay laying down for a moment longer?” The barista suggested.

Danny hummed. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude,” someone said off to Danny’s right. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to turn his head and look, “you just had a seizure. You were screaming. Like, I think we’re all okay if you lay there. We can step around you.”

There were murmurers of agreement.

“Okay, yeah, you know what, great,” Danny said and summoned the willpower to lift his hand and give there room a thumbs up. He let it drop listlessly back down onto his chest.

At least the floor was cool against his back. And he did feel a bit better not trying to get up immediately. When he finally pulled himself back up into his chair, the nice barista brought him a glass of ice water with a straw. Danny drank every drop of the first glass and a refill until the paper of the stupid straw started to turn to mush between his lips.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be up for doing much especially that day, Danny got a bagel sandwich to go, left a generous tip, and fled the cafe with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Penny was was at the apartment. She shoved a still warm load of banana bread at Danny as she bitched about her latest failed relationship. Apparently her girlfriend had been hooking up with the bouncer at their favorite bar. Not that Penny would have minded if they had talked through it before hand and Penny was allowed to join every now and again.

Which, fair, the bouncer did have amazing arms.

When Penny’s phone rang, blaring a dated pop song, Danny was able to make his escape with the added load of his two liter water bottle and bag of little oranges. Or not oranges—clementines? Tangelos? Whatever, little oranges.

He set everything down on the end of his bed before flinging himself onto it.

Another seizure. A worse one.

But a clearer vision of the ghost than he’d ever had before.

Groaning, Danny dragged himself to hang over the edge of his bed so he could pull out one of the storage cubes from under it. After a bit of shuffling, he got the one he wanted out from the back: a long ignored stack of art supplies. Danny rummaged around in it for a pencil and eraser before he pulled the sketchbook out from the bottom. He flipped past old game ides and idle doodles to find a blank page and started to work.

There was so much of the ghost that he still couldn’t define, but the more he worked at the sketch of the ghost’s face, the more he started to narrow it down.

Danny stared down at the page.

Overworked eyes stared back.

Feeling frustrated at how close it was, Danny grabbed a blue marker from the page and filled in the eyes carefully. Then, with almost irritated strokes, Danny roughly messed in the strikingly orange hair.

Now his ghost started back.

“Hello there…”

Danny stared up at the building. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

The figure made a little shooing motion towards the door.

[liahaslosthermind]

𝑬𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏

Summary: The 4 times the Night Court’s Shadowsinger mentioned… someone, and the first time his family got the promise of an answer. 

Content: Angst, with the promise of future fluff

Warnings: Angst, I like making Azriel sad sorry, I also take the ‘mate talk’ in the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter and rewrite it to fit this story. I also haven’t read CC yet so apologies if Bryce is OOC Azriel x OC [not introduced in this part]

*Slight spoilers for the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter

Bryce turned to the fae female next to her, “You have a mate, don’t you?” Nesta simply nodded in response, a slight smile forming on her face, followed by a deep blush. “Do you?” The red head directed at Azriel.

Nesta’s stomach dropped. She knew it was a sore subject for the Shadowsinger. What with everyone else in his family being mated except for him-

“I do.” He said, a trace of apprehension in his voice. Nesta’s head snapped to face him so quickly that her vision spun for a moment, causing her to stumble.

Regaining her footing, she barked out, “Azriel? What the fuck do you mean?”

The trio stopped walking for a moment, tension settling over the once calm night air. She gave him a demanding, and slightly betrayed, look. Even though his eyes met hers, Azriel kept quiet. Bryce simply looked between the two, face wrinkling in the awkwardness of the moment.

“Ah. A sore subject, I guess?” Bryce laughed, or tried to, it only came out forced and uncomfortable. 

“Who, Az? How come I had no idea? Does anyone know?” There wasn’t anger in her voice, just hurt. 

He had to bite back his usual replies, the ones he gave to his family when they tried to ask questions or bring up the topic without him bringing it up first. Not that he ever did. 

“She’s-” he swallowed. Cauldron, when would he finally be able to talk about her without wishing the world would swallow him whole? “It’s not something I want to discuss right now, especially with present company.” He sent a pointed look at Bryce. He couldn’t hide the misery in his tone this time though as he took a deep breath and continued, “I will tell you about her, Nes. One day. I’d just rather do it on my own terms. On my own time.” Nesta opened her mouth, seconds away from arguing, when he put a hand on her shoulder, “Please.” he begged, softly. 

The glimmer of silver in his eyes caught her off guard, gave her such a knee jerk reaction of protectiveness that she gave him a crushing hug. It was strange, this feeling. Azriel, the broody, closed off, terrifying, annoyingly perceptive, kind, and unbelievably loving friend she never knew she needed had just revealed a part of himself she could tell he kept locked away for good reason. The thought that even the mention of his mate could bring him to tears made her heart break in a way she thought impossible after all she had been through. 

She took a deep breath as she pulled away, “When you’re ready,” she agreed.

He smiled back at her, while it was genuine, one of the few he reserved for his family, there was still insurmountable pain in his eyes. 

Nesta turned back to Bryce, “Can you play more of your music? Just none of that screaming one.” She asked, shaking her head at the memory of the Death Metal genre she hadn’t liked when the redhead had played it for them. 

She smiled softly as she felt Azriel squeeze her hand in a silent Thank you before he let go. 

The High Lord sat, feet propped up on his desk. “When do you head out for Rosehall?” He asked.

Azriel, standing by the window to the right of his brother, answered, “The morning after Solstice.” Rhysand grimaced when he heard the mask of indifference his Spy Master had in his voice. “I still need to pick up a gift before I go.”

Rhys took it for the invitation it was. “Would you buy her something from me? On my account this time.” He tried to put on his commanding-High-Lord voice as he said it, but he knew very well that Azriel wouldn’t listen to the last part of his request even as his brother smiled in agreement as he walked out of the room, sending an inclination of goodbye to his High Lady in the chair across from her mate. 

“Rosehall? What female is he visiting the day after Solstice?” Feyre spoke into her mate’s mind. 

Despite Rhys’ usual inability to keep anything from his mate, he couldn't bring himself to explain, couldn’t bring himself to cross the very clear lines his brother had set all those years ago. 

“It's not my story to tell. And don’t ask someone else, if any of them know, they also won’t talk.” 

Certainly not the answer she had expected, as was evident by the look on Feyre’s face.

“And if I ask Azriel?” she inquired.

“It will just bring up things he isn't ready to share. He will come to you- come to us- some day.” ‘One day’ Azriel had promised his family long ago, long before their family had been as big as it was now. “I just pray it's under better circumstances.” 

Feyre froze, feeling the weight of mixed negative emotions flowing down from her mate’s side of the bond. For once, she was even more confused after asking Rhysand for more information. 

“Well, I believe we’ve reached the threshold of faked amiability before one of us attacks the other. We should quit while we’re ahead.” Eris said as he stood up from his chair, starting to grab his papers without so much as a glance to his reluctant hosts. Even years after their alliance was set in stone with the agreement from the Night Court to back Eris’ claim to his father’s throne, even after fighting beside them in war, these faked niceties could only go on for so long before the claws came out. 

No one in the Night Court’s Inner circle could say there was anything but relief to see the Autumn Court’s High Lord walk away. But before they could let out a breath of relief, Eris stopped and turned to the Shadowsinger. 

“I have received word that your… gift has been finished. I will send someone to get it to you within the week.” 

Azriel’s head quickly snapped to Eris, “And they were able to meet all my requests?” He asked, not caring that everyone else in the room watched the interaction with fierce intrigue. 

The eldest living Vanserra boy scoffed, “I assured you they’d be able to.” Azriel let out a relieved breath at that. While he’d known Eris’ court capable of such a thing, it wasn’t much more difficult than lesser magics, but hearing it confirmed ignited hope he didn’t know he still carried.

“Thank you. She’ll love it.” The Spy Master replied earnestly, much to Eris’, as well as the rest of the Inner Circle’s, shock. 

The red haired fae simply schooled his features and nodded in response before winnowing away. 

Despite the heaviness all the secrets and questions caused, everyone remained silent as they watched Azriel slip out of the room. 

The dining room had been filled with loud chatter for the weekly family dinner. Love filled teasing and relentless jokes put everyone in a good mood. Nothing felt better to the Night Court’s Inner Circle than being all together. Unfortunately, it had to come to an end. 

“I’ll be leaving for a few days.” Azriel told Rhysand, who was sitting to his left at the head of the table. “I’ll be back for Solstice.” He quickly added. 

“I thought you were leaving the day after?” 

“I was, but the package I had been waiting on came, and I’d like to deliver it as soon as possible. I’ll drop your gift off too.” With that, Azriel got up, nodding a quick goodbye to his family, before disappearing into his shadows.

It wasn’t a request to have a few days off. He hadn’t asked if his High Lord could spare not having his Spymaster for a little. He didn’t even wait for any sort of goodbye from the rest of his family. He just left, the house sending his place setting away to be cleaned, as if he had never been there in the first place. 

Once again, everyone had questions, concerns, for their friend. But no one spoke up, as per usual. 

Until the one fae in the room with truly no information in the matter grew concerned enough with everyone’s immediate change in attitudes. 

“Where is he going?” Elain asked, looking between her friends and family. 

She saw on everyone's faces, in their eyes that refused to meet hers, that no one would tell her. Till she sent a look, full of concerned innocence, to Cassian. 

“Rosehall” He blurted out. “Or at least, I assume that's where he is going.” The last part was directed towards his older brother. 

“Where is this Rosehall?” Feyre asked, feeling he invitation Elain’s question had opened into the untouchable subject. 

The High Lady, like her second oldest sister, sent a look to Rhys, knowing he'd break for her under an embarrassingly small amount of pressure. 

“None of us know,” he gave in, “He goes at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes he’s there, often, for months. Then he will go quite a while without any visits.”

“Is it his mate? Is that who he is seeing?” Nesta inquires. 

The word seems to suck all the air out of the room. His mate. Azriel’s mate. Their brother’s mate.

Nesta’s stomach drops at the looks she receives from Cassian and Rhysand. 

They didn’t know. 

As she opens her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by a palm smacking the table.

“Enough! You all know damn well this isn’t what he would want. The only reason you all seem so comfortable talking about it is because he's gone, too preoccupied to leave a shadow behind.” Mor argues. “He has asked one thing of us in the 500 years he has been by our side, to let him- let them- be.”

With that, she winnowed out of the room, leaving a suffocating mix of guilt, confusion, and concern behind. 

Everyone could feel his presence the second he got back to the house. The light and happy Solstice air seemed to vanish in an instant. The shadows suddenly alive and wreathing. 

Rhys and Cassian had gotten up to check on their brother. While he had said he’d be gone till Solstice, they had assumed he would be there the full day to celebrate with everyone. But he had missed celebrations, for both Solstice and Feyre’s birthday, had missed dinner, and had sent no indication that he was even alive. His mental walls had been as fortified as ever, not letting Rhysand nor Feyre in the numerous times they had tried to check in. 

Their walk over to their brother’s room became a run, followed by the rest of the family, as they heard a loud crash. 

The room was dark, but they could make out the faint outline of the broken mirror and Shadowsinger standing in front of it, holding his hand as blood seemed to drip from a wound. In the dark, the sight was unsettling, but in the light, it was far worse. 

Cassian moved quickly, leaving Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle by the door in stunned silence. 

“Woah-” Cassian said as he lifted Azriel’s hand, causing his brother to pull back in startled shock. He hadn’t known they were coming. Hadn’t sensed their presence even then they were right in front of him.

“It’s okay, Az. But we need to clean out the wound. Make sure there aren't any shards in-” The general stopped as he looked at the Spymaster, seeing the tears streaming down his usually stone cold face. 

All he could do was help him sit down as Mor, seemingly better equipped to handle the situation, came over to kneel in front of her long time friend. 

“Az?” She took his uninjured hand in hers, her other hand going to his face to wipe away the tears. “Come on, maybe you shoul-”

“She’s gotten worse.” He admitted, his voice noticeably wobbling, “So much worse, Mor.” 

Mor quickly looked at everyone else, seeing the shock, the empathy, and worse of all, the pity. She knew more than the others, not the full story, not even close, but enough to know that their reactions were part of why he kept all of it a secret. He couldn’t handle their emotions on top of his.

By the time she looked back, she saw that Azriel had noticed it too. She could see him shrinking back into himself, trying to hide everything. 

She couldn’t let it happen again. 

“Let me in, Azriel. Don’t pretend, don’t go through 200 more years of this.” She pleaded. Luckily, this seemed to pull him back out. “Let us all in, please?”

“I can’t- I don’t want pity.” He admitted.

Rhysand spoke up this time. “Is that what you think this is? Just pity? Az, come on. We all love you, we want you to be happy. But we don’t want fake happiness. Seeing you like this makes us all upset, because we love you. Please, let us prove it. Let us in.” Rhysand begged. 

Azriel gave them all a onceover, emotion showing so clearly in his face, in his eyes, that no one seemed to be able to breathe. 

He took a deep breath before speaking up, “Tomorrow. I’ll explain- show you all, tomorrow. For now, I’d just like to celebrate Solstice, and your birthday, Feyre, with my family.” 

The air lightened up a little bit at the promise. Tomorrow, they’d all face what Azriel had been dealing with alone for 200 years. But tonight, they would all celebrate Solstice, the return of light and promise of a brighter future, as a family. 

[five-rivers]

nervous

This fic is for the @infiniterealms remix event! Please enjoy!

.

“Stop it,” whispered Star, putting her foot on top of Paulina’s.  “If you were going to freak out this much, you should have stayed home.  Or at least not come to breakfast.”

“I don’t miss school.  Or breakfast.”  It was too important.  The time before class was when rumors and information about what happened outside of school came to light.  

Today, knowing the rumors would be vital.  

She picked at her nails.  They were new, the acrylics freshly applied, but they weren’t quite as even as they usually were.  Not up to her usual standards.  But she had to do it, just like she had to come in today.  

Star put her hands over Paulina’s.  They were shaking, too.  “It’s going to be fine,” she said.  “You just have to be, like, zen about it.”

“He didn’t even have anything on him.”

“I know.  But we’ll work something out. Just- Just stop talking about it.”

Paulina took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

.

Star and Paulina watched Valerie stalk across the courtyard, head held high, lunch tray exactly parallel to the ground.  Despite not being in any sports, she moved with a tight, athletic grace.  She drew eyes.

“She’s been getting full of herself lately,” said Paulina.  “Like, she thinks she’s better than us.  We’ve got to do something.”

“Aw, Pauli,” said Star.  “Do we have to?”

“Like, yeah?  Unless we want to just, you know, give up.”

“Give up what?”

“Uh, being on top?  Duh.”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen, Star,” said Paulina, turning to face her.  “I know you used to like her, but you’ve got to get over it.  She’s the one who ditched us.  And no one ditches us.”

Star looked down at her lunch, then nodded.

“Anyway,” said Paulina, flipping her hair over her shoulder.  “I’ve got an idea.”

.

Paulina’s eyes drifted to where Valerie sat eating breakfast.  She was wearing long sleeves, pants, and a hoodie.  She hadn’t worn skirts or short sleeves since… 

It was whatever.  It wasn’t like Paulina cared.  She was only looking because sometimes Valerie talked to the loser trio.  

“We can check his locker,” Star was saying.  “We’ve got the key.  We just have to wait for a good time.  We can take one more day.”

Paulina nodded and smiled shallowly.  “Maybe.”  Her smile quickly fell away, but as more people entered the cafeteria she covered up her general… mood… by examining her nails and checking her reflection in her new makeup mirror.  

.

“That was great,” said Paulina.  “Did you see the look on her face?”

“Mhm,” said Star, smiling tightly.  

“It’ll keep her from looking down her nose at us,” said Paulina.  She flipped open her makeup mirror, to check and make sure her lipstick hadn’t smudged.  But what she saw wasn’t her face.  It was something terrible.  Something rotting and skull-like.  

She shrieked and dropped the mirror, breaking it.  

Suddenly, the hallway was empty and cold.

“Bullieeeeees…” groaned a sepulchral voice.  “Bullieeeeeeeeeeeeees…  You will regreeeeeeet…”

.

Paulina shivered.  

“You alright?” asked Kwan.

“Just a chill.”  She shot a smile at him.  “They’ve changed the air conditioner settings or something, it’s like it’s blowing on me.”

The others started joking about how underfunded and cheap the school was.  This allowed Paulina to turn her attention to the doors just as Sam Manson came in.  

Even under these circumstances, Paulina couldn’t help but curl her lip at Manson’s appearance.  Everything she wore was just so– so ugly.  Even the way she dyed her hair was crude.  The color was totally fake and flat.  Her skirt looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors and a spray can to it.  The less said about her grungy, safety-pinned jacket the better.  

But more than that, seeing Manson reminded Paulina of the last time she’d had the displeasure of speaking to her. 

.

It had been two days since they’d pranked Valerie, and those two days were the worst.  Everything that could go wrong, did.  She always had a backup outfit at school - no one was perfect, but she could look that way - but her spare skirt caught on the door of her locker and tore.  And then there were… things.  Things lurking in mirrors, or out of the corner of her eye.  The feeling of something just outside the door whenever she went to the school bathrooms… 

And Star was having some kind of problem with missing textbooks or whatever.  It wasn’t important.

But Paulina knew exactly how to deal with this.  Or, rather, exactly who could deal with this.  It was just a matter of getting in touch with her knight in shining armor.  

She knew just how to do it, though.  She’d done it before.  For one reason or another, Phantom always showed up most often around the loser trio.  Probably because they sucked so much that they just, like, attracted ghosts who wanted to kill them or something, and Phantom had to spend all his time protecting them instead of dating Paulina, like he deserved.  

Whatever it was, it meant that she could get a message to Phantom through them.

She waited for the right time to approach them - not because she cared about them, but because she could practically feel her reputation taking a hit just from being around them - and then put on her best smile and dragged Star along behind her.

“What do you want?” snarled Manson.

“Rude,” she said.  

Manson’s eyes narrowed.  “Get on with it.  We want to get to class.”

She tittered in a way that she knew irritated Manson.  “So, you guys see Phantom all the time, right?”

“N-not really,” said Fenton, not looking at her.

“As much as anyone,” said Manson.  

“Well, you see,” said Paulina, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, “I was wondering if you could give him a message from me?”

“You want to invite him to your birthday party through us again?”

“No,” said Paulina, rolling her eyes.  That hadn’t worked well enough for her to want Manson in her house ever again.  “It’s just, I’ve been having a bit of a ghost problem.”

“Me, too,” said Star, quickly.

Fenton looked up, brows pinched together.  “You have?”

“It’s Poindexter,” said Manson.  “You remember.  From what they did with Valerie.”

“Oh,” said Fenton, expression shuttering.  “Tuck, are you sure you have the right combination?”

“Dude, just use your key.  You have it, right?”

Fenton started to search his pockets and backpack.

“It isn’t just anything,” said Paulina, “it’s, like, a huge problem whenever I’m at school.”

“Then stay home,” said Manson.  “Or be less of a b–”

Fenton opened his locker with a bang, shoved back in the gadgets that tried to spill out, and started exchanging books.  

“Sorry,” said Manson, clearly feeling anything but.  “We’ve got class.”

.

Paulina growled a little inside.  If it hadn’t been for Manson, then it never would have gotten this far.  Phantom would have fixed everything.  

When Foley arrived, he looked…  Normal.  He clearly hadn’t heard anything.  He wasn’t upset enough.

Either way, he sat down next to Manson and they started talking.  

“Come on, Pauli, let’s go,” said Star, tugging Paulina’s arm.  

“Uh, what?”

“You said you’d help me do my hair before class,” lied Star.  

.

Paulina wasn’t the kind of person to give up, and she wasn’t going to let Manson get in the way of making this stupid ghost go away and bother someone who actually deserved it.  Like Lester, maybe.  He was so annoying, and he’d had the guts to ask her to the last dance.  So gross.  

So, she waited until Fenton was alone and cornered him.  

“Phantom and I don’t talk to each other,” he said, not looking directly at her, which was so annoying.  He was supposed to have a huge crush on her.  This was supposed to work.  “I can’t help you with that.”

“But he’s always around you.  I just need you to pass on one message.”

“I can’t help you,” repeated Danny.  “My parents are ghost hunters, Paulina, they chase after Phantom and shoot at him.  He doesn’t want to talk to me.  I’m pretty sure Phantom has some kind of truce with Sidney, anyway.”

“Who?”

“You know, the ghost that’s haunting you?  Sidney Poindexter?  You’ll be fine, you just have–”

“That gross nerd?”  Paulina needed to get rid of this ghost even more!  She shuddered.  

“Okay, fine,” said Star, who Paulina had almost forgotten was there, “so he doesn’t talk to you - like, who would–”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But you’ve got, like, stuff from your parents, right?  Ghost hunting stuff.  You could give that to us for, like, protection.”

Fenton backed away.  “I really can’t.”

.

“Sorry,” said Star as they left the cafeteria.  “But this’ll probably be the best time, before classes start and while those two are still in the cafeteria.  You still have the keys?”

“Yeah,” said Paulina, touching her purse.  “Yeah.  Yeah, of course I do.  I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were,” said Star.  She sped up, lengthening her stride.  “God, this would have been so much easier if he’d just been, like, a halfway decent person and helped us.”

One of the classroom doors next to them opened and Mr. Falluca walked out.  Paulina froze for a second, but Mr. Falluca wasn’t even looking at them, instead focused on the stack of papers in his hands. 

“Don’t just stand there looking guilty,” hissed Star.  “Come on, Pauli.  We have to keep going.”

Paulina swallowed and nodded.  

.

“Come on Fenton.”  This time, she’d caught him before school, when no one would see.  “How often do your parents check your stuff?  We won’t need it for long, you know?  If they notice, can’t you just say a ghost stole it?”

“Okay, how about this?  I don’t want to give you anything.”

“What?” demanded Paulina.  “Why not?”

“You know that I dated Valerie, right?”

“And then she dropped you like a bag of moldy potatoes,” said Paulina.  “Your point?”

“My point is that I still like her.  And what you did to her….  Look.  Just apologize to her.  Really apologize, like, make amends and stuff, and you’ll be fine, okay?”

.

The hallway Fenton’s locker was in was empty, although there were sounds coming from a few of the classrooms.  

“Okay,” said Star.  “Keys.”

Paulina nodded, then dug them out of her purse to hand to her.

“Keep an eye out.”  Star turned towards Fenton’s padlock.  It was one of those weird ones that had both a combination lock and a backup keyhole.  “God, why does he have so many keys?”

“I don’t know, just hurry, okay?”

“Yeah,” muttered Star.  “Don’t worry, everything will be over soon.”

.

“Hey!” shouted Star.  “Fenton!”

He stopped, looking back over his shoulder warily.  

“If you don’t help us,” said Star, out of breath, “then–” 

“Then we’ll tell everyone about your ghost detector,” finished Paulina.  They’d scraped together every rumor about Fenton they could to come up with this.

“My… what?” said Fenton, blankly.  

Paulina had to give him credit, he was a good liar.  “You don’t expect people to believe you go to the bathroom that much, do you?  And always right before a ghost attack?  We know your parents gave you something.  Help us, or we’ll tell everyone about it, and about how you’ve been keeping it to yourself so you can hide like a coward.”

“I– What?  I don’t– I don’t have anything like that!”

She took back what she said about him being good at lying.

“If I can notice it,” said Paulina, “other people will believe it.  You think you’re at the bottom of the social ladder now…” she trailed off, threateningly.  Maybe if she hadn’t been so stressed, she would have tried a bit more honey, but sometimes vinegar was all you had.

A number of complex expressions chased across Fenton’s face, but they ended with something hard.  

“No,” he said, and then he turned away and left.  

.

“Ha!  Got it.”  Star dropped the lock in her pocket before pulling open the locker. 

“What does he have?” asked Paulina, looking over her shoulder.  “He has to have some kind of, like, shield or something.”

“I don’t know,” said Star, pushing textbooks to the side.  “You’re seeing what I’m seeing.  Here.”  She pulled a backpack - not Fenton’s normal one - off the hook.  “See what you can find in here.”

She pulled open the zipper, and inside was… money?  A cheap flip phone?  Lipstick?  Two changes of clothes, one for a girl?

Paulina wondered what Fenton was into, but it didn’t matter now.  She unzipped the smaller pockets and started rifling through those.

.

“What now?” asked Star.  

It had been a few days since they’d last talked to Fenton, and, therefore, a few days since they’d spread around the rumor, but Fenton had been… unmoved.  

Which meant that Sidney Poindexter was still a problem.

With an act of will, Paulina smoothed out her expression.  “If we can’t get what we want by asking nicely, we’ll just take it.”

“But, like, how?  He’s not coming to us.”

“Not yet,” she said.  She thought about it.  “Mama always said, if a man’s hiding one thing, he’s hiding a bunch else, too.  We’ll slip him a note saying, like, if he doesn’t want his real secret to be spread around, he’ll show up.”

“And give us what we want?”

“No,” said Paulina.  “I don’t think that he’ll give once he’s seen us.  He’s got to carry his stuff on him, right?  So we’ll just take it then.”

“Beat up Fenton by ourselves?” asked Star, dubiously.  

“Or threaten him,” said Paulina.  “We both bring something to threaten him with, okay?”  Her Papa had a stun gun, and she was sure Star could scrounge up a baseball bat or something. 

And, besides, she wanted to get Fenton back.

.

“There’s nothing in here!” hissed Star, frustrated.  She slammed the locker closed, making Paulina jump.  “What the hell.”

Paulina grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the nearest bathroom.  “Can you not?”

“Can you not?  It’s your fault we’re even in this situation!”  

“My fault?  What about what you did?”

.

Fenton was already there, leaning against the guardrail, when they reached the bridge in the park.  During daylight, it was a popular spot for couples, but it was creepy and abandoned at night

“Oh, no, not this again.  Haven’t you had enough fun with your stupid ghost detector rumor?”

“It’s not about fun, Fenton,” said Paulina.  “Now, give it over.”

“Or what?”  He stood up and walked a few steps closer to them, a strange expression on his face.  “I don’t think you actually know anything, or you would’ve used it already.”

“Or this,” said Paulina, pulling out the stun gun.  

“What the–  Is that a taser?” asked Fenton, raising his hands and stepping back.  “Are– Are you robbing me?”  He glanced sideways at Star, apparently only then noticing her bat.  

“Consider a donation to a worthy cause,” said Paulina.  “Hand over your ghost stuff.”

“I don’t have any,” said Fenton.  

“When you’re out here in the middle of the night?” asked Paulina, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, you wouldn’t even be haunted if you–”

Paulina saw red and hit the trigger.  The electrodes flew from the end of the stun gun, right on target.  Fenton yelped and fell to the ground, seizing.  

It was… satisfying, for lack of a better word.  She’d just been so– So frustrated, lately.  All of her normal ways of blowing off steam at school had been blocked by that horrible ghost.  

She pulled the trigger again.  

But, before she could, Fenton had swiped away the electrodes, and now he was pulling himself up with the railing, hand over his face.  What Paulina could see of it though–

Star came in, swinging her bat.  She cracked Fenton right across the jaw and he tumbled over the railing and off the bridge.  There was a loud cracking sound.  Fenton hitting the pavement of the walkway below.  

There was no other sound.  

Paulina breathed in, breathed out.  

“What did you do that for?” she asked.  

“You didn’t see his face,” wailed Star.  “He looked like– like he was going to kill you.  I didn’t hit him that hard!”

Paulina shook her head and went down under the bridge.  Star followed close behind.  Fenton was… lying there.  Broken.  

But still breathing.  

“We’ve got to search him,” said Star.  

“Hm?”

“For his stuff.”

“Oh, right.”

“And then we’ve got to…”

“I know,” said Paulina.  Then, dreamlike, she asked, “Can I borrow your bat?”

.

“We both did things,” said Paulina, finally.  “The important thing is that we’re in this together, right?”  Her voice trembled.  “Right?”

Star nodded.  “Right.  So– So, we can, like, we have his house keys, too.”

“Yeah,” said Paulina.  The Fentons had to have something in their house, even if their kid was apparently a moron who went around with absolutely nothing.  

“And no one’s even noticed he’s gone yet,” continued Star.  “We’ve just…”  She stopped as she put her hand in her pocket.  “I’ve still got his stupid lock.”

“Who cares?”

“His friends will notice if it’s gone.  And we’ve got to get to class, anyway.”  Star seemed to be calming down again.  Good.  She was surprisingly useful in a… situation.

.

In Paulina’s trunk was a thick canvas tarp.

She didn’t know why, exactly.  It had come with the car.  

Star went over it, pulling off tags.

Paulina broke two nails getting it back to the trunk.  

They drove to the river.  

“They’ll assume it was a ghost,” said Star.  “Especially if they don’t find him.”

Paulina had just nodded.  

.

Paulina followed Star as they left the bathroom.  It was fine.  They were going to put the lock back on the locker and it would all be fine.  

But someone was standing in front of Fenton’s locker.  

They turned, slowly, as if they were a character in a lame horror movie.  But Paulina couldn’t move.  Couldn’t breathe.  Couldn’t think.  

Fenton’s eyes met hers.  

[moanz111]

i stumbled upon this while scrolling and it's such a well-written post that i just had to share my thought on this too!

first of all, i've been a fanfic reader since i was very young so i know what it feels like to be on the other side. i've been anxious and nervous to reblog or write comments and have never even thought of messaging the authors i read and liked just because i was terrified of being perceived. but trust me, writers are so incredibly grateful for every little interaction they get. i know it can be nerve wracking but you will never be judged for what you have to say! every single piece of feedback and opinion i get means the whole world to me and every time i get a comment, a reblog or an ask makes me so happy, it seriously makes my whole day.

i've been on the writer side since summer 2023 and a couple of months ago i came back after an extremely long hiatus and was so scared and worried because almost a year had passed since i had last promised updates yet i had failed to come back due to many reasons. but then i saw that people still cared and even though i lost most of my readers from back when i first started writing, i was so happy to see that new people were getting interested and were actually willing to talk to me and share their feedbacks. so thank you, to those who have been doing that <3

i don't judge people who decide to stay silent but trust me, there's nothing to fear! writers don't bite, we're human too so of course, naturally we thrive off interactions too, just like anyone else. there isn't a barrier between the two groups - all of us are fans of the same things and share the same interests, this is always a two way relationship.

writing is my hobby and something i like doing but sometimes the silence is killing me especially after coming back from a hiatus 😭 i don't write for notes, i do it for my own enjoyment but still, hearing something nice about your works always feels good and validating!

and about the genres - i see too what's more read and what's popular but it's so sad to hear that authors force themselves to write something that they don't originally really want to just to have someone read their stories. every story is worth giving a chance and authors shouldn't be required to fit themselves into certain boxes just so people pay attention. no one can be forced to read anything of course but my whole point is to be kind to authors and give them a chance because sometimes you can find such gems when you least expect it.

of course, there will always be genres that are more generally liked but we need diversity too so please, writers do what you want and what you love - the right people will appreciate it.

and on that note...i've been mostly writing smaus/texts so i feel like like sometimes it's even harder to get feedback and i think these are not as read as before but i still think it's worth keeping even this genre alive just because it's so fun (at least to me).

i just hope our community here stays alive for longer and starts thriving because it's so sad to see so many people leave :(

just be brave, interact and encourage others to do so too! support your favourite writers because they all are amazing and deserve all the love in this world!

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[deckedcards]

. . . R U MINE?

──── ❝ and satisfaction feels like a distant memory ╱ all I wanna ever say is, "are you mine?" ❞

⌗ PAIRING: suguru niragi x male! reader

⌗ SUMMARY: people can’t fall in love with their fuck buddies, that’s the number one rule. too bad (name) sucks at following them.

⌗ THIS WORK INCLUDES . . . lowercase intended, third person pov, no borderlands au, implied school au, angst?, established relationship, secret “relationship,” friends with benefits, implied bisexual niragi, gullible reader, niragi has a girlfriend, his girlfriend is oblivious to everything, cheating, making out, mentions of sexual content, suggestive content, niragi uses reader, reader is smitten for niragi, one-sided love, reader is treated like an object, niragi kinda hates his girlfriend, reader refuses to accept that he’s being used, possible grammar and wording mistakes ❨ not proof read ❩

⸺ SOFT HANDS roamed around (name)’s bare torso as his mouth collided into niragi’s. cringing at the feeling of mixed warm saliva as their tongues tied together like string, wrists caught in niragi’s grip ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his head being pressed against the hard wall.

this was starting to become a regular occurrence between the two. (name) doesn’t remember how this “relationship” started in the first place, the only thing that passed in his mind were memories of him being fucked dumb over and over again. the embrace of fuzziness entering his brain at every waking feeling of niragi and his touch, parts of his body were still painted with hickies and faded teeth marks.

tears entered his eyes as niragi shoved his tongue farther down his throat, gagging as he pushed him away struggling to catch his breath when multiple coughs exited his throat. niragi tisked wiping at his bottom lip to tear off any extra saliva that wet it, “too rough?”

he shook his head repeatedly, “no, no—“ (name) coughed bringing his hand up to soothe at his adams apple, “it’s just… you always forget i don’t have the best gag reflex, it’s almost like you’re starting to do this on purpose?”

a slight laugh left niragi, the sound of him seething followed after putting his hands to rest inside his pockets, “so? if that matters so much to you.. maybe i’ll just go back to kanon, i don’t recall her ever complaining.”

(name) whipped his eyes towards the man, small glares were sent his way as he straightened his back, “no—no, you wouldn’t…” he whined, “you told me i was better than her, that she couldn’t do anything that i did—niragi please…don’t joke about stuff like that!” niragi raised an eyebrow as his eyes darkened, a smirk washed over his face as he smashed his lips back onto (name)’s, loud pecks filled the claustrophobic closet.

niragi dragged his hands down to rest ontop of the others waistband, pulling off abruptly watching as (name) followed after his lips for another kiss, “then quit talking, you’re body can already tell me what it needs.”

(name) zipped his lips into a thin line, nodding his head so much to the point of almost giving himself whiplash. the signals made niragi tug down (name)’s pants, cold air spreading goosebumps around his skin once he felt his legs being exposed.

the air around them increased in its temperature with all of their movements. muffled moans and whimpers echoed around the duo. aroused cries filled niragi’s ears, his puffed lips pressed fresh love bites onto any fading ones that were on (name)’s skin. his gaze was focused onto the slightly ajar door that let light into the dark area. the thought of someone catching the two sent heat to his core, images of his bitchy girlfriend standing there rushed through his head. hoping that this event would finally make her consider breaking things off.

thinking of her running after him after he went missing for an entire hour only to find him fucking someone better than he ever did with her. her shocked facial expression as she caught him playing with his fucktoy, the quiet boy that only hung around with one person everyday. the boy that always stuck to himself and never once involved himself in bigger crowds, preventing any type of attention being drawn to him.

maybe that’s why niragi always used him so much? the less popular the person, the less anyone will act suspicious of them when they disappear for multiple times on the regular. sounded like a solid plan to him, besides its not like he actually cared about (name). all of those missed calls on his phone from his number, the degrading things he’d say but smooth over once he flashed his pretty face in (name)’s vision.

finding someone like him wasn’t so easy, it was hard to have someone as gorgeous like niragi. always telling him he should be grateful that he even gave him a chance, if not then he would’ve probably been spending his weekends drowsed on his bed. staring at nothing but his wall and leaving his empty phone deserted somewhere, begging for at least one person to text him to hang out. but no worries about that anymore, it’s a good thing niragi was only just a few calls away. what a hero, am i right?

eyes connecting with someone elses broke him out of his drunken daze. a figure stood there in the gap, some girl with long light brown hair and blunt bangs had her eyes wide at the scene. the phone in her hand vibrated in her grasp as the air she was breathing in stopped, seeing someone like this was definitely an interesting sight to behold.

her neck crained itself forward, forcing her numb legs to move as she walked away. hoping the graphic image of two people fucking would whisp away from her mind as quick as possible.

a smirk plastered itself on niragi’s lips, not letting the slight intrusion to prevent him from his actions on (name)’s body, continuing his work as he quickened the pace of his movements. well, maybe it wasn’t the person he was expecting… but, at least he got what he wanted in a way.

“you have to be careful with someone like him.”

(name) steered his eyes to the girl sat behind him, his one and only friend yuna. a worried look was on her face as she stared at him. the phone in his hand was buzzing, she knew exactly who he was trying to call. “you never know what’s gonna happen when you’re little ordeals get exposed, he’s not someone you can trust.”

he rolled his eyes rubbing his thumb against niragi’s contact again once it had gone to voicemail for the twelfth time now. the sound was starting to irritate yuna’s eardrums as she crossed her arms against her chest, “you don’t know what you’re talking about yun. he’s a nice guy, really, you just don’t know him like i do.”

the affection in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by her as she stood up. her rough hand grabbed his arm as irritation glossed over her eyes, “no, you don’t know what you’re talking about. it’s bad enough that i caught you doing it in a supply closet but—“ the event she caught yesterday afternoon made itself apparent in her head again. catching her best friend getting fucked wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d have to witness with her own two eyes, but him getting fucked by suguru niragi was what made her more worried than anything.

“what’ll happen once his girlfriend finds out, huh? the power she has here can ruin your reputation in an instant. being involved with niragi is one thing but thinking that he’s doing this out of love for you is another. (name) i beg, open your eyes, please. this won’t end well i can assure you.” her monologue went empty as he furrowed his brows, shaking his bicep away from her grasp his face filled with nothing but anger.

“you’re wrong.” he spat, looking down back to the screen of his device as he stared at all the missed calls that flooded his phone, “he cares about me… i know he does. he just—doesn’t know how to express it well.”

yuna scoffed at him, hearing the sounds of chatter in the courtyard filling her hearing. ears picking up a distinctive voice before grabbing (name)’s arm once again, “does he?” she said dragging him over to the edge of the balcony they hung around in. pointing her index finger to one of the people infront of them. niragi stood there, arm wrapped around his so-called girlfriend, flaunting her around as he made conversation with a peer. the two laughing watching as she blushed and waved her hand at something he said.

“someone who ‘cares’ about you, doesn’t go around showing off another girl and ignoring all of your messages.” she says enhancing the venom in all of her words, “he’s not yours (name), and you’re not his. so stop treating him like he is and finally realize what’s going on infront of you.”

a stoic expression was painted on (name)’s face. his vision felt blurry, the sensation of tears was threatening to spill out as he bit his lip. watching as kanon pressed kisses to his cheek and the way her friend cooed at them, seeing her mouth ‘you two are so cute together!’ only made it worse for him.

he knew niragi would never let him do the same thing to him, a toy is what he was to him. one that he would throw out once he got bored with him. there was nothing romantic that would ever come out of their relationship, nothing. they were fuck buddies, thats it. there would never be anything more or less than that. (name) refused to acknowledge this at his own expense, getting rid of someone who made him feel wanted for once in his life didn’t sit right with him.

“pick who you wanna love (name). it’s either you or niragi.” yuna’s sentence imprinted onto him, moving her figure to grab the bag that sat on the bench a few feet away from them before walking away. her hand trudging through her hair as she left him with his thoughts, the faint feeling of a vein popping itched at her forehead.

(name) stood flat against the railing, hands shaking. the grip on his phone was loosening as he bore holes into niragi’s head, eye twitching. pressing the sides of his phone to turn it on, the photo he saved as his wallpaper of the two of them was mocking him the moment he grazed it with his eyes. one he had taken the morning after one of their sessions, (name) snuck a picture of niragi sleeping on his side as he leaned against him. the dumb smile that was molded onto his face didn’t help how he was feeling, the sense of stupidity was drowning him. “he loves me, he just.. doesn’t know how to express it...”

how long was he gonna keep telling himself that? he knew that not everybody was worthy of feeling love. especially, someone that was like him.

© @deckedcards 2025 all rights reserved ☆ please do not repost, translate or share my work on other platforms without my permission, thank you.

[kyeomkuppie]

Me? Jealous? Pfft!

Pairing: Minghao x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a tinge of angst

Synopsis: in which you were jealous but your boyfriend knew how to exactly comfort you.

Why has he standing with her for over 10 minutes?! It wasn't like it mattered to you. Pfft! of course not.

You've known your boyfriend to be very respectful, so it wasn't like you didn't trust him, I mean he clearly carried the Victoria's secret shopping bag that obviously belonged to you. It was as if 'I have a girlfriend' was written in his forehead. But it didn't help that some thoughts were starting to invade your mind.

She was refined. Her back straight, making you suddenly aware of your posture. Her voice quiet, making you too conscious about you naturally outgoing nature.

And most importantly, she embodied everything you wish you were. But this wasn't the time to go through internal monologue of how you think she's better than you! She has been talking to your boyfriend like she has known him for 30 years.

You were starting to go over 30 ways to commit murder without getting caught but your boyfriend finally made his way to you, after, in your opinion, a conversation that has been going on for too long.

"I'm sorry if I made you wait." He smiled guiltily.

"It's fine." Your sudden quietness caught him off-guard, and for someone as perceptive as Minghao, it wasn't hard to guess that something was off.

The store names in the mall were suddenly very interesting and it was painfully obvious that you were avoiding his gaze.

"Baobei, are you upset?" He knew you were weak for that nickname and it was apparent from the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you were giving one-word responses, which wasn't like you at all.

"No, Why would I be?" You manged to fake a smile which pretty much looked like a grimace.

You scoffed "Me?Jealous? Pfft!"

"Did anyone bother you while I was talking to [girl's name]?"

Oh, so he also knew her name?

Unfortunately for you, he noticed the furrow of your eyebrows when he said her name.

"Or is it me?...Are you jealous?"

He raised an eyebrow at how defensive you suddenly got. You two were back to his car and as soon as you closed the doors, you knew he had something to say.

"Baobei, talk to me. You know I don't like leaving things unresolved." His tone was serious but still gentle.

"No- No, It's not something to resolve. It's silly and I don't want to make a big deal out of nothing." You bit at your fingertip.

"It isn't nothing if it makes you upset, please tell me." He grabbed both your hands.

"She was just so...you. She is everything I want to be and that just made me a bit insecure and it really isn't your fault and the fact that I didn't know what had you so focused on what she said made me feel...I'm sorry I'm being childish." You look down at your hands.

He raised your chin with two fingers and slowly pulls you closer. "First of all, she is the choreographer of our new comeback. She wanted to ask about my input for the choreography. And what do you mean she's so me? You're a part of me that could well enough define who I am. No other person could ever replicate whatever you could do to make me feel how I do."

At this point these words were too much for you, and how he described you so romantically wasn't helping in how red your face was getting.

"Yes- I mean no and um you know-" You could no longer make sense of what you can say. You were too hyper-aware of the distance between you two.

He smiled knowing the buttons he pushed and decided to pull the final move.

He pulled you in and his lips landed on yours. You grabbed onto his shoulders and started kissing him like it was the last time. The slow yet desperate rhythm of both your lips was too much for you and when you suddenly pulled away a realization dawned upon you.

He could talk to a thousand girls and only you could get to devour his lips that way. You smiled to yourself at the thought but you instantly snapped out of it at your boyfriend's voice.

"Was it that good?"

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[maretinelli]

FERRARI COUPLE

Ollie Bearman X driver!fem!reader

Summary: In which Y/n and Ollie are a couple, but they are also part of the Ferrari Driver Academy. And on a relaxed day, they make a video with the media answering some questions from fans.

Words: 4.2K+

Warnings: Ollie in F2, Y/n one of the female drivers from the Ferrari Driver Academy, some suggestive words, funny (??) and cute of course, because they are a couple.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. I think this is cool because it was fun to write. And please request stories on my profile hahaha

MASTERLIST

The environment was cozy and well lit, decorated to give the video a relaxed tone. Ollie and Y/n were sitting side by side on fluffy cushioned chairs, with a table in front filled with colorful beads and threads scattered around. It was a fun scenario, matching their young and spontaneous energy.

Before the recording began, they were talking quietly among themselves, enjoying the moment of tranquility before the questions began. Ollie had his hand resting on Y/n's thigh in a natural way, a gesture so everyday that they didn't even notice it anymore.

"Imagine the questions they'll ask" Ollie commented, with a playful smile. "I bet there will be something like 'who's faster on the track? As if we were going to fall into this trap."

Y/n laughed and then whispered just to him, mischievously, "I just hope it's not about sexual experiences."

Ollie let out a surprised laugh, covering his mouth as he tried to compose himself. Y/n joined in, and the two of them laughed together until someone from the media interrupted them:

"Okay, guys, let's start recording!"

They quickly arranged themselves in the chair, and Ollie removed his hand from her leg, straightening his posture. The media lady nodded and gave the signal for them to begin.

Ollie smiled for the camera. "I'm Ollie Bearman."

"And I'm Y/n Bearman-" Y/n said automatically, but as soon as the words were out, they both started laughing. "Bullshit. I'm Y/n Robbins."

"And we're drivers from the Ferrari Driver Academy!" For a second, they looked at each other, surprised by the synchronicity and instinctively clapped hands in a quick greeting.

"We just high-fived like two bros." Ollie grimaced amusedly, looking at Y/n with an air of disbelief. "It was weird, since we're a couple and already..." He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Y/n's eyes widen at him like a warning, and Ollie smiled at the camera, looking away naturally. "We came here to answer some questions from our fans!"

Y/n laughed, nodding. "And let's make bracelets while we answer!"

She took the box of beads and placed it in the center of the table, separating the colored strands for each one.

"I think they asked us to make bracelets while we answer so they can make sure we're giving the truthful answer" Ollie joked, grabbing a handful of beads.

Y/n tilted her head, processing the logic, and then nodded. "Oh, right! That makes sense!"

Ollie smiled in satisfaction, and Y/n opened the larger box with more bead options, spreading them out in front of him. "Okay, we're ready. Bombard with questions."

The first question appeared on the screen:

"Who took the initiative in the relationship?"

Y/n laughed for a moment alone, remembering how Ollie was very insistent in asking her out, but that she wasn't far behind with the flirting either.

"I guess that answer depends on who you ask" he said first, giving Y/n an amused look.

Y/n raised her eyebrows and laughed. "What do you mean? You took the initiative!"

"I'd say it was mutual" Ollie replied, shrugging.

Y/n shakes her head, laughing, but concentrating on putting the beads on the white string she had picked up. "No, love. At first, you were so nervous while talking to me that you stuttered and made it seem like you were forcing me to go out with you." She smiles. "Like, that day at the go-kart track, remember? You said something like 'I... I... I'd really like to but only if you want, of course! I mean, you don't have to! But I'd love to wait, do you want to go to dinner with me?'"

Ollie covered his face with his hands. "Oh my God, do you remember that?" The whole room laughed.

"Yes." She smiles, as if the memory was from yesterday. And not almost five years ago.

"But I wasn't that obvious!"

"Sorry, love. It was." She slaps his thigh, which is still covered by his tracksuit.

Y/n looked directly at the camera and wordlessly raised an eyebrow, as if expecting the audience to agree with her. Ollie let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"Okay, maybe I was a little obvious," he admitted, adjusting the thread in his hand. "But it was because I wanted to make sure you knew I liked you."

Y/n smiled, her expression softening. "I knew it."

"And you flirted back too!"

"Yes. Only I was less obvious than you." She chuckled softly. "I was direct, but I knew how to hide it."

The two looked at each other for a second, exchanging a knowing look, before Ollie cleared his throat and fiddled with the beads again. "So the official answer is that I took the initiative?"

"Yes" Y/n said with conviction.

Ollie sighed dramatically. "Okay, okay. I took the initiative. But I don't regret it one bit."

Y/n laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. "I know. I love you!"

Ollie smiled shyly and lowered his head, fiddling with the beads. "I love you too," he said quietly.

They were those couples who showed a lot of affection, but in public Ollie held back a little and was shy, as for Y/n, she really liked to tease. Which ended up being left for her in bed later.

Y/n tilted her head and whispered back, "Speak louder, Bearman. The audience wants to hear."

Ollie laughed and shook his head. "I love you, annoying."

Y/n smiled in satisfaction. "Now yes."

When the next question appeared on the screen, Ollie and Y/n immediately perked up. They thought it would only be questions about their relationship.

"If you had to compete against each other in a race for a prize, what would you choose as the prize?"

He turned to Y/n with a challenging smile. "Easy. If I win, you'll have to let me drive your Ferrari for two months!"

Y/n let out a laugh. "No way!"

Ollie knew how overprotective Y/n was of the Ferrari she had at home. Only she drove, and occasionally Ollie, but she had to be in the passenger seat. As if he didn't know how to drive a car and didn't have a Ferrari like that at his parents' house.

“See? You’re already afraid of losing it.” He teased, picking up some beads and putting them on the string.

Y/n crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Ollie, feigning indignation. "Scared? I just don't want you destroying my pet car."

Ollie put a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "I'm literally a professional racer. You think I'm going to crash your car?"

She shrugged. "I think you're going to speed up more than you should."

The media crew laughed along with them, and Ollie rolled his eyes before pointing at her. "Okay, but what about you? If you win, what will your prize be?"

Y/n gave a mischievous smile. "If I win... you'll have to spend at least two hours a day massaging me!"

Ollie blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "TWO HOURS?"

Y/n nods. "Two hours. Full body."

She said innocently, but when she looked up, Ollie was already smirking at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Y/n immediately realized what he was getting at and pointed at the camera, raising her voice.

"Three and a half hours! Massage. ONLY."

Ollie laughed, leaning back in his chair as if in surrender. "Lucky we're not really competing, I'd only be at a loss."

Y/n laughed out loud, and the media crew joined in. Ollie then picked up some beads and pretended to be extremely focused on them.

"You know what? I better focus on the bracelet. I know there's no way I can lose this."

"Which habit of the other was the hardest to get used to?"

"Ollie's delay" Y/n answers first.

Ollie's eyes widened and he laughed. "Calm down! I couldn't even finish reading the question!"

"Ollie being late was definitely one of the hardest things to get used to in the beginning of our relationship." Y/n begins. "Because look at that. He's still in his workout gear, and I'm all smelling nice and pretty right here. He probably got out of the car and flew all the way here because he was late."

Ollie just looks at the camera and nods, because that's exactly what happened. He had forgotten about the video with the Ferrari media people and when he looked at his watch he was already late.

"I surrender. That's true!" He holds up his hands. "But hey! I'm changing, aren't I?" Ollie turns to his girlfriend and she smiles.

"True! He's changed a lot since the beginning of our relationship until now with these delays." She sends him a loving smile, without teasing or evidence of teasing. "Now go, a difficult habit of mine that was difficult for you to get used to."

"When you get our double bed all to yourself"

Y/n laughed loudly, knowing she took up a lot of space while she slept. "Details, dear!"

Ollie turns to the camera and places his hands on the table, leaving his beaded necklace aside. "Seriously, when she sleeps she uses the entire bed. Her arms are on my face, her legs are on my stomach. I have inches of space to sleep." He says with a smile. "One of these days I'm going to measure how far I sleep from the bed and share it with you."

Y/n puts her hand on her face laughing.

"There was one time during a race that the only room in the hotel that they gave us was the one with two single beds. And we, like a very much in love couple, put the two beds together to sleep next to each other, right?!" He turns to his girlfriend and she agrees laughing, remembering the day. "We lay down and she fell asleep, not even five minutes later, she was already invading the bed I was in. That night I had to sleep on the floor!"

"WHAT? You slept on the floor?" She asks scared, not knowing this part. Her heart breaks a little.

Ollie laughed at her reaction. "Yeah, and you didn't even notice!"

"Why didn't you wake me up or push me aside?" Y/n says in a worried tone and Ollie smiles at that.

"Oh, it's okay. I grabbed some extra pillows and pulled the covers off you and you slept well." He teases and Y/n rolls her eyes but smiles.

"Okay, I'll change that, I don't want you sleeping on the floor anymore!" She slaps her hand on his thigh again.

"Nah. I'm dealing with it now. It's been a while since I slept on the floor or couch in our apartment." Ollie places his hand on top of his girlfriend's hand and she smiles.

"Okay...next question!" She says a little quietly, while holding Ollie's gaze a little longer than she should.

"What was the funniest moment you've ever spent together?"

When the question appeared on the screen, Y/n and Ollie looked at each other, already holding back laughter.

"There are so many stories..." Y/n said thoughtfully. "But I think the funniest one was the elevator one."

Ollie immediately started laughing. "Oh my God, that was a bad one for me!"

"So, let me tell you!" Y/n clapped her hands excitedly and turned to the camera. "We were on vacation in Switzerland, and when we got back to the hotel, Ollie said he forgot his room card in the room when we left. So he went down to the reception to get another one, but he was barefoot, because he said the sneakers he was wearing hurt. So he left me waiting at the door of the room, with his shoes in my hand..."

Ollie shook his head, embarrassed. "So far, so good. The problem was on the way back."

"He entered the elevator, alone, holding the new card in his hand, but when the doors were closing, a lady entered too..."

Ollie was already laughing before Y/n finished her sentence.

"Then he, being super polite, smiled at her and said: 'Hi, how are you?' But as soon as the elevator opened for him to leave..."

"I STOPPED ON MY OWN FOOT AND FELL!" Ollie finished, covering his face.

The team burst out laughing.

"And it wasn't a normal fall!" Y/n emphasized, crying with laughter. "He tried to hold on to the elevator wall, but he slipped even more and ended up on the floor, lying down, with the room card flying to my feet, which was waiting for him at the room door and watching the whole scene."

"And the lady was just looking at me like, 'Oh my God, is this kid okay?'" Ollie added, laughing along. "I was on the floor for about three seconds, trying to decide whether to get up quickly or pretend to pass out to avoid the embarrassment."

Y/n lets out a loud laugh. "I didn't know whether to help him or keep laughing with his sneakers in my hands.

Ollie took a deep breath and turned to the camera. "Moral of the story: never go barefoot and distracted to get a room card. You might end up lying in the elevator."

Y/n sits up straight in her chair, gasping for air to catch the breath that the laughter had taken from her. Ollie waited for Y/n to compose herself, but when she looked at him again, a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

"Now imagine the scene from the lady's point of view." Y/n said, laughing again. "She just got into the elevator, and out of nowhere she saw a barefoot guy sprawling on the floor, with a card flying through the air!"

Ollie shook his head, laughing. "And the worst part is, when I got up, I tried to play it off and pretend like nothing happened. Like, I just straightened my shirt and said, 'I'm going... my girlfriend's waiting.'"

The team burst into laughter again, and Y/n slammed the table. "I can't believe I'm dating this man!"

Ollie smiled and shrugged. "Well, you already knew what I was like before we started the relationship. So, no complaints!"

Y/n took a deep breath, still smiling, and turned to the camera. "Next question, before I burst out laughing again."

"If you had to describe your relationship with a movie or series, what would it be?"

Ollie and Y/n looked at each other for a moment, already knowing exactly what the answer would be. "Brooklyn Nine-Nine!" They said at the same time, before starting to laugh.

"Our relationship is basically Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago, Competitive, passionate and a little chaotic."

Y/n nodded excitedly. "Exactly! I'm more organized and like to plan things, like Amy. And you..." She looked at him with an amused smile. "Well... you're Jake. Chaos."

Ollie put his hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. "Hey, I'm a functional mess! Jake's awesome too."

"Yeah, but you also make up random competitions out of thin air!" Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. "Like that time we were at the grocery store and you decided that whoever got all the items on the list first would get massages from the other for a week?"

Ollie smiled with satisfaction. "And I won, because I'm a strategist."

Y/n arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "You cheated! You took half the stuff from an absent-minded lady's cart!"

The team burst out laughing, and Ollie shrugged, trying to hold back his laughter. "All is permitted in war and love."

Y/n shook her head, laughing. "But at the end of the day, we balance each other out. Just like Jake and Amy. And despite the craziness, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Yes. I have my Amy Santiago and I wouldn't trade it for anything." Ollie looks in love. Which would result in many cute comments on the video later.

Y/n smiled sideways at Ollie's words, feeling her heart warm at the affectionate way he looked at her. Without saying anything, she just squeezed his hand on the table, sliding her thumb gently against his skin.

"Okay. Next question..."

"What is the greatest proof of love that one has ever done for another?"

Y/n looked away to Ollie, already feeling a lump forming in her throat. "I think when I had that accident and you spent days in the hospital with me. And we were only five months into our relationship."

Ollie smiled, looking at his girlfriend and seeing that her eyes were shining brighter because of the tears. The room was silent for a moment. Y/n blinked a few times, feeling the weight of the memory.

"Do you remember anything from that day?" He asked softly.

She took a deep breath before responding. "Just flashes... I remember waking up in the hospital, but I was so groggy I don't even know what happened before."

Ollie nodded and squeezed her hand lightly, as if to anchor her there, in the present. "Well... I remember everything." Y/n felt her chest tighten when she saw the seriousness in his eyes. "I was on the pit wall watching the race. It was quick, but at the same time it seemed like an eternity. The radio went silent, and all I could see was his wrecked car. No one said anything, just the sound of sirens..." Ollie looked away at the table, swallowing hard before continuing. "I ran to the medical center, but no one let me in. They just said you were being taken to the hospital. And I followed."

Y/n felt her eyes well up. She could imagine the scene perfectly, as if she were watching a movie. She continued to put the beads on the string, to disguise the pain she was feeling now.

"I was there the whole time," he continued, turning back to look at her. "I didn't even notice the hours passing. I just wanted to know if you were going to be okay. I don't think I really took a breath until the doctors said the surgery was a success and that you were going to recover."

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the tears, but one eventually escaped. Ollie smiled slightly and wiped her face with his thumb.

"You were there for days" Y/n muttered, her voice a little choked.

"Of course I did," he replied without hesitation. "I wasn't going to leave you alone, love."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Didn't even go out to take a shower..."

Ollie shrugged. "I knew you'd complain about it later, but at the time it didn't matter. All I wanted was to make sure you woke up and that I was there when you did."

Y'n felt a warm wave of emotion wash over her. Without a second thought, she leaned over and wrapped Ollie in a tight hug, hiding her face in his shoulder. Not caring about the camera at the moment.

"I love you" she whispered against his shirt.

Ollie smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I love you too. And now, if anyone ever asks, you can be sure that was the greatest proof of love I've ever given."

Y/n stands up laughing, "Yes. Yes it was, love!"

Everyone was silent, absorbing that confession that almost no one knew. Ollie smiled at the camera and picked up the string with the beads.

"Let me see if it fits your wrist." He measures it and Y/n sees the black and red beads. "That's it. Let me put some letters on it now!"

Y/n laughs. "Okay. Let's move on to the next question, before I cry now." They laugh. "From crying with laughter to crying with sadness, big transformation"

Ollie laughs, putting on a letter O bead.

"What was the most embarrassing situation you've ever been in together?"

The two looked at each other and started laughing in embarrassment. It was as if they shared their neurons and remembered the same things when the questions were asked.

"We can't tell that..." Y/n confesses, feeling her cheeks blush.

Ollie shakes his head. "No, we can't tell you. But it was really embarrassing. I think we traumatized your older brother back then." The pilot looks at his girlfriend.

Y/n lets out a laugh. "He didn't talk to me for a week." She confesses and Ollie smiles. And then she looks at the camera. "All I can say is... we thought we were alone in the house... in the room and my brother came in. That's all."

She laughs embarrassedly.

"JUST!" Ollie informs and they laugh..

"Have you ever had a silly fight that you now find funny?"

"Oh, that's an easy one!" Ollie said, leaning his elbows on the table. "The ice cream fight."

Y/n put her hands on her face, laughing. "Oh my God, I can't believe we're going to tell this."

"Now you have to tell!" Someone from the media team encouraged.

Ollie took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for a big story. "So, we went out to dinner, everything was beautiful, the weather was great. On the way back home, we stopped to get ice cream. Y/n got hers strawberry and chocolate, I got mine cookies and cream." He said, taking his girlfriend's wrist again to measure the length of the thread.

"So far so good," Y/n added, nodding.

"But in the car, while I was driving, I offered her some of my ice cream..." Ollie sighed dramatically. "But then, when I asked for a piece of her ice cream, what happened?"

Y/n covered her face, laughing. "I said 'no'."

The team burst out laughing, and Ollie threw up his hands in outrage. "She said no! I offered her mine, but when I asked for hers, she said no without even thinking!"

"Guys, but it was the last part with more chocolate syrup, it wasn't enough!" Y/n defended herself, still laughing.

"It was the most random fight in the world" Ollie shook his head. "We spent about ten minutes in the car discussing 'sharing equally' and 'respecting the last sacred bites'."

"In the end, I bought him another ice cream because I felt sorry for him" Y/n admitted.

"And I accepted, because I'm an understanding person," Ollie said, all smug.

"Understanding, nothing! You only accepted because you wanted more ice cream" Y/n scoffed, pushing his shoulder lightly.

"That too" Ollie laughed, lacing his fingers with hers under the table. "But seriously, that day felt like a terrible fight, but now it doesn't make sense.

"Not at all." Y/n laughs, focused on the bracelet she was making.

"What's the cutest thing you do for each other on a daily basis?"

Ollie smiled before answering. "Every time I get home after a tiring day, Y/n already makes me a cup of tea or hot chocolate, depending on the weather. And no matter the time, even if it's late, she always waits up until I get home."

Y/n smiled, a little embarrassed, but clearly happy with the answer. "Well, I like taking care of you."

"And I love that," Ollie said, looking at her fondly. "But the sweetest thing you do for me is that when you wake up before me, you always tuck me in tighter and give me a kiss on the forehead before you get out of bed."

The media team gave a loud "Awww."

Y/n laughed, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh, how embarrassing, why did you notice that?"

"Because I always wake up in those moments," Ollie replied, holding her hand under the table. "And also because it's the cutest thing ever."

Y/n pursed her lips, trying not to smile so much, but failing miserably. "Okay, then it's my turn now! The cutest thing Ollie does on a daily basis is that he always sends me random messages saying he loves me or asking if I ate right."

"Y/n forgets to eat sometimes!" Ollie defended himself, laughing.

"I get busy, it happens!" Y/n shrugged.

"And that's why I always ask, because if it depends on her, lunch becomes a snack and dinner becomes breakfast," Ollie explained.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her smile showed that she loved this care.

"Oh! And there's one more thing!" Y/n remembered, laughing. "If I'm driving and he's in the passenger seat, he always puts his hand on the gearshift, even when he doesn't need to change gears, just to hold my hand while I drive."

Ollie smirked, not denying anything. "It's a reflex."

"It's cute!" Y/n corrected, squeezing his hand under the table.

"Okay, so I guess we're tied for daily cuteness," Ollie joked.

"Sure thing," Y/n agreed, her eyes shining.

The team smiles and one of them says, "Okay guys. Our last question now!"

"But already?" Y/n looks at the media and they smile.

Ollie smiles and then takes his girlfriend's wrist, tying the bracelet with the remaining thread and smiles satisfied with his work. Y/n looks and sees a bracelet with black and red beads with the word 'Ollie' in letter beads.

She laughs a little and turns to him. "Amazing!"

"Isn't it?!" Ollie jokes and she laughs.

"Have you talked about marriage?"

Ollie smiled at the question. He turned to Y/n and, with a caring tone, replied: "Well, I guess we've talked, haven't we? It wasn't that long ago, actually."

Y/n gave a shy smile, blushing a little. "Yeah, we've talked about it a little. Lately even more... we've already started to imagine what it will be like."

Ollie chuckled softly. “I’m definitely more of a… romantic, I guess. I’ve always wanted a big ceremony, but maybe we can do something more intimate. I just know one thing: I want it to be with you. No matter what, you’re going to be my wife.”

Y/n looked at him with a sweet smile. "I think what matters in the end is being together, whether it's with big plans or something simple. We'll find a way to do something special."

Ollie nodded, taking her hand. "Yes, the important thing is that the wedding is about the two of us. And how we love each other."

They exchanged meaningful glances, the kind of conversation that seemed simple but was full of emotions and silent promises. The crew smiled at them. Ollie and Y/n were the most passionate couple in Ferrari.

Someone from the media nods, so that they can finish recording.

"I guess that's it then," she begins. Tying on the bracelet she had made during the interview. "I hope we didn't scare you with some of the answers."

Ollie laughs, leaning his elbows on the table and then sees Y/n hand him the bracelet. It had pink beads and the word 'Mi amore'. The nickname he called Y/n on a daily basis, ever since they started dating. Years ago.

He smiles and glances quickly at her. Before turning to the camera and ending the video as well.

"So that's it guys. Thanks for watching!"

Y/n waves her hand and blows a kiss in the air. With that, the crew approaches the camera, turns it off and smiles, saying that it was over and how well they did.

"We should do this more often." Y/n smiles, picking up the beads that were scattered on the table. "Just try not to start talking about our sexual experience next time."

Ollie laughs out loud. "Okay. I'll try not to think about that when we're answering the questions."

Y/n smiles and closes the bead box, but notices that Ollie was still looking at her. "What it was?"

"Admiring my girlfriend. May I?" The pilot gets ready and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"You can." She smiles and Ollie gives her a quick peck on the lips.

They got up from their chairs and walked over to one of the media people, handing them the box of beads as they thanked them for agreeing to the idea. Ollie and Y/n smiled, saying that they were glad they made the video.

Leaving the room, Ollie holds his girlfriend's hand, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before starting to talk about random things that happened that day.

Y/n just smiled, knowing that regardless of the cameras, the spotlights and everything around them, they would always just be Ollie and Y/n and that was enough.

[dchuntress]

—

Subject: Re: Late submission | Where the Red Ferm Grows Essay

Hello Amandine,

First and foremost — are YOU alright? I am tremendously grateful to see that you’ve survived such an ordeal, I hope you’re safe and recovering. Please let me know if you need anything.

I’ve read your essay, and despite everything you’ve been through, I have to say it’s a solid analysis, Amandine. You did an excellent job discussing how Billy’s bond with his dogs reflects the novel’s themes of loyalty and perseverance.

There are some areas where you could strengthen your argument — especially in your analysis of the Red Fern’s symbolism — but I can see the hard work you put in.

I’ve left additional feedback in the scanned copy attached, so you’ll see my comments in red ink along the margins. Take a look when you have time.

I’ve given you a good grade, but let’s set aside some time to workshop your writing when you’re back at school. Not because your grade is in question, but because I want to help you improve your skills. I believe you can push your writing further, and I know you’re capable of it. Writing is a muscle — if you work on it, it’ll get stronger.

No penalty for the delay. Just take care.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

[ Attachment: where_the_red_ferN_grows_essay_essay(3)_final_(1)_scanned.pdf ]

Helena winces as she carefully sets the laptop back down on the coffee table, no longer bothered about the blood spilling everywhere or the gashes left on her side from a knife fight with Black Mask’s lackeys — the first aid kit can wait.

She needs to ensure that Amandine can get to and from class safely first. Thankfully, someone owes Huntress a favour, and that someone also happens to know a thing or two about shutting up crocodilian bastards. It will be dealt with swiftly.

—

Subject: Re: batman arsonist extension ple ase

Hi Roberto,

I’m so sorry to hear about the fire, I hope you and your family are safe. Is everything okay?

Your well-being is far more important than schoolwork. Take all the time you need, okay? Your grade isn’t going anywhere, and neither is the assignment, do not even worry about it. Right now, focus on what matters: you and your family.

If you need anything — notes, resources, someone to talk to — I’m here, and I’ll do what I can to help. Be safe.

PS: If you’re looking for temporary housing, I strongly advise avoiding the Sionis Foundation Shelter. Just… speaking from personal experience. If you need help finding a safer option, let me know.

Love,

Helena Bertinelli

“You wanna talk to me about my kids—about so-called ‘collateral damage’, you BITCH!” Huntress yells, yanking a bloodstained Killer Croc’s claw from her shoulder and hurling it, aimed straight for Batman’s face. A series of cusses and curses escape her mouth before she storms out of the Batcave as abruptly as she had entered—not without kicking over one of his server racks along the way. Riddle her that for ‘collateral damage’, BITCH.

—

Subject: Re: Hospital + Assignments

Hi Jess,

First of all, do not apologize. I read your assignments, and I can see you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote them. That’s completely understandable, given what happened. Don’t stress about it — we’ll go over them together when you’re feeling better. Right now, you need to focus on getting enough rest and being there for your mom.

Let me know if you need anything. I insist.

PS: Mrs Schmidt works at the Gotham Subway, right? Please tell her to stay cautious, that is a dangerous area especially at night.

Warm regards,

Miss Bertinelli

Jess doesn’t know that Helena was in the hospital too — albeit not by her choice. Doesn’t know that her teacher yanked off the IVF, slipped on her purple mask, stole her wardmate’s jacket, leapt out the window — all without a care.

The subway is only twenty stones’ throws away, where the toxins still linger with an eeriness that was familiar to Huntress only a few hours ago.

Not her best work tonight, admittedly. But she trusts the police to carry on the rest when they come over and find the henchmen tied up in a corner — and antidotes on a counter, or whatever of them she thought she managed to salvage. Jess doesn’t know Huntress is feeling pretty garbage too, and praying Crane chokes on his own spit.

—

Subject: Re: CROC ATE MY HW W/PROOF! NOT CLICKBAIT! IT'S TRUE

Mr Dowd!

God, Remy — what happened to “Hello”, “Good evening Ms Bertinelli”, and “How are you”?

I would’ve fully believed you with or without photographic evidence — I mean it, I did not need to see that right before dinner — but nonetheless you have made a compelling case for an extension, kid. See me during office hours next Tuesday and I’ll see what can be done.

More importantly, are you okay? I don’t like that a rogue got close to you enough for that to happen, it’s worrying even if — and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but — Croc-related emergencies are very understandable in Gotham. Anyway.

Good night and stay safe, Dowd. Don’t let the Croc bite.

Never e-mail me again,

Miss Bertinelli

Helena wordlessly stares at the bite marks on Remy’s paper, then back at her shoulder, then back at Remy’s paper, then back at her freshly bleeding, stinging shoulder, already dissolving the thin layers of gauze.

“Jesus Christ.”

She resists the urge to send back a photo in the name of solidarity, and instead reaches for the wine bottle. Has Killer Croc been attending night school or what?

—

Subject: Re: Basement Situation, Not Good. Lost my book

Hi Miriam,

You absolutely should not go back there under any circumstances, your life comes first. I have granted you an extension, no questions asked, but please focus on staying safe — and far, far, far away from down there. Are you trapped? Are there safer exits? Never hesitate to call for help.

In the meantime, I’ve attached a PDF of the book here, and I’ll also have a physical copy ready for you by Monday. I insist, take no stress and be safe.

Hopefully, you won’t have to worry about the basement much longer.

Warmly,

Miss Bertinelli

[ Attachment: thebookfreepdf_obtainedbytotallylegalmeans.pdf ]

Miriam’s place wasn’t difficult to find and track down over the weekend.

Eyes locked on her target, Huntress cracks her knuckles.

By Sunday midnight, the rogue’s operation has gone up in flames — metaphorically, not otherwise. Huntress isn’t sloppy.

By Monday morning, the building is just a building again. It wasn’t Miriam who had to go down there and retrieve the book — albeit too tarnished for use. Not the worst news of the night, still.

one of helena bertinelli's students emailing her at 12:59 am asking if it's too late to submit their assignment now since their house got burned down due to gotham incidents:

helena bertinelli responding at 1:07 am after grading their work and reassuring them it's fine even though she's literally yet to take care of the third degree burns on top of 500 other fatal injuries she just got from her other job: