#they keep tabs on each other and see each other every once in a while like all their milestones

[th3-past3l-cl0wn]

The portraits of Neha and Elizabeth Beaufort: an analysis

By me

At first glance it was easy to observe the clear inspiration Neha’s portrait had of “the girl with the pearl earring”, however we can somehow feel this when looking at Beaufort’s portrait.

But the deeper we look into their character, the more we realise how opposed they are to each other, representing her inner character.

our first encounters

In both cases, you don’t know them for who they are, but you are introduced by what they are, “the novelty dice maker” and “the gardener”.

You get to later know their names, you might only know one for Neha but it doesn’t distance you from her, quite the opposite it feels like a nickname.

Learning Elizabeth Beaufort’s full name distances you from her, she is now a title, a figure of authority.

Neha is hidden, and if you wish you can even decide to go the whole game without seeing or talking to her. But Beaufort? She is centric to the story, you have to talk to her, she is one of the first characters you see when you go outside, one of the first that helps you in the examination process with the ammonia and gardening gloves.

the girl with the pearl earring

while we can see it clearly for Neha, it feels more vague for Elizabeth.

Neha’s head covering is worn in a more modest and classical manner, her pose practically identical to the reference, she symbolizes the “old” what was once. An art piece and aspiring individual of her time. The way her portrait is painted is very academic, there is very little use of dark outline if ever. Everything about it is almost soft and comforting.

In contrast Beaufort’s portrait adopts a widely different, almost provocative pose, the way she wears the headgear covering less for instance but attaching her hair, prioritizing practicality over appearances. There is a more modern touch to her portrait, the colours are saturated and there is a bold dark outline, she is defying the traditional. She represents the “youth” of Martinaise.

While Neha resembles almost identically to the portrait, Beaufort distances herself from it, the past but still she finds a way to keep a part of it, what made her what she is, and then turn it into something personal.

In both of their portraits, the background is applied similarly for the taints and almost like they were mirrored vertically, however Neha’s are softer, almost like they are fading away, while Beaufort’s are high in contrast.

the postures

The novelty dice maker, upon your first meeting with her, is turned away from you, she’s working, she stills open herself to you, as she presents her arts and studio in an almost familiar way. You enter her domain of creation, you’re inside her soul. Maybe you could picture it sort of like a confessional, there is intimacy between the two of them and they won't necessarily need to face each other. She looks at you from the side, seemingly making you feel as though you were disturbing her, and yet she is not. But she stills look at you from above, this could be referring to the fact she was up, high in her workshop’s room while the crime scene was unfolding, not only this but she “disregarded” it when it was happening, as she had one of the best view on it, and yet stayed absorbed by her art.

On the other hand, Beaufort is facing forward all time, she’s observing your every move, she looks up at you, from beneath it is easier to see all (visual calculus check “gardening in march”, you point out the fact she is stationed at the best spot to keep tabs of people). She looks at you with an interrogative expression, she was expecting you to be here, to talk to her. She shields herself from you when she crosses her arms or when she hides her real identity from you at the start by going as “the gardener”, she makes you believe that you are someone above her, and you believe it. She is always in a public space, never once alone, she is either outside or in the Whirling-in-rags. There is no intimacy, if even a way to talk to her as “Elizabeth” instead she is “a member of the union”, this could also be reflected in her looking upward, as stated earlier, as she is in the middle of a hierarchy in the Union. Her purpose is to exonerate the Union of the presumed crime, “the Union fixer”. She is cleaning up the mess caused by the Union’s dogs. Even if there is a “box” reminding of a confessional where the Hardie boys stay, it is, not only a long process to get them to confess, she is the first to stop them when they open up, but you are also constantly observed by the public, not only her but the people at the Whirling.

Knowing this, Neha also found herself “shielded” by the entrance of her studio, though it served an entirely different purpose as it can always be opened. Beaufort wears different masks that you can’t take off as you talk to her, but rather break by any new dialogues you have surrounding the case, there is no way to get under her skin without making her reach a breaking point. They are facing opposite directions, Neha leaned toward the past, Beaufort toward the future, but they both look in your direction: the present.

No matter their difference, both of them wear blue clothes, this reflecting their social class, they're both born blue collars, even if Beaufort wears a white shirt, representing the purity of her youth and her future aspirations, she works for the union, the symbol of the working class, she represent them on a legal point of view, as a lawyer. Her jean strapped overall partially visible in her portrait also can remind of a tank top, or “débardeur”, which could be an echo to the organization she works closely with, the dockworkers union” or “débardeurs’ union”. Elizabth’s softer features in comparison to Neha’s sharper ones also amplifies this duality of “youth” vs the “old”.

the lightings

Beaufort’s portrait shows a significant amount of green on her forehead, associating blue and yellow, blue symbolizing intellectual skills and yellow motorics, this is her mindset. However the right side of her face is lit in dark red, which can be associated with physique skills, indicating her short temper she tries to hide. The fact it is cast on the right side of her face could imply that it is her “real” face, what is “right”. In her eyes and her nose you can also see a reflexion of light that Neha doesn’t have, echoing to her “ bright and hopeful” futur, the fact she is highly regarded by her peers, but also maybe her more emotive tendencies, not in a derogatory way, but more in a youthful ardor, defending her ideals.

For Neha, her yellow, we could even say gold lighting highlights what she is handling right now, her works, her art, that is what is important to her, she is what she creates, her face being cast in the shadow. This choice of colour for the light might be associated with motorics skills knowing she is a dicemaker. The light could also represent the future ahead, the change in the world, the “miracle – from the northwest”. She is averting her gaze from it. It is too late for her.

[gentil-minou]

wangxian rookies in showbiz au where newbie idol Wei Wuxian is on set of a commercial wearing a ridiculously uncomfortable outfit getting yelled at for dumb reasons by his incompetent agent while bottom-of-the-totem-pole production assistant Lan Wangji is being bossed around by the awful director

Except wwx isn't actually a newbie he was once popular child actor Wei Ying seen everywhere, the golden boy of the industry known for his upbeat personality and the smile constantly on his face.

That is until his final role when he was 13 where he played a dark jaded teenage psychopath in a psychological thriller and was forced to perform intensely emotional scenes without any counselor or anyone there to keep an eye on him (his manager at the time Madam Yu's focus was always her other children's careers, Wei Ying was just an extra way to make money you see). He even got badly injured on set, and now has an ugly burn scar above his heart from a poorly done fire stunt.

But the movie flops and things just keep getting worse from there...

It gets no attention from critics that is until former golden boy becomes the teen misfit all the gossip rags talk about, with constant cover stories showing him at 15 doing drugs and partying and eventually getting kicked out by his manager/aunt at 16. The narrative becomes clear that Wei Ying is a flop and another failed child star turned deplorable diva

He disappears for a few years, only ever coming up in a low budget TMZ special or some commentary youtuber's videos, but Lan Wangji never forgot him.

Lan Wangji had often worked with his uncle when he came on as a consultant on set and so was able to watch and admire Wei Ying from afar. He's especially fond of Wei Ying's role as the happy go lucky middle child on a popular sitcom role and his smaller movie roles where he played a genius child inventor and solved crimes alongside a precocious bunny rabbit.

So well Lan Wangji has always been a fan of him so he's shocked when the new idol on set of their cheap commercial stage looks so similar to Wei Ying.

But at the same time, they're not the same at all. While Wei Ying was known for being friendly and silly, Wei Wuxian is acting like a pompous and cocktail overly confident ass, flirting with the director and everyone else while making a show of whiny and being cutesy with hopes for more screentime.

It's very unnatural and there's a moment where LWJ thinks he must have been mistaken but there's a moment in between when he's running back and forth on the producer's order while balancing cups of coffee when he spots WWX sitting by himself, huddled in a corner of the soundstage deep in the shadows where no one else is around.

He's staring at the fingernails they've painted and stuck gaudy fake jewels on and fiddling with the ridiculous black demon wings he's wearing, as he picks at the layers of makeup and stickers they've put on his face. He's tugging on his red crop top, cut indecently short and revealing so much, as watery eyes dart back and forth in front him like he's worried someone important might see.

In general he doesn't seem anything like the person he was under those lights just minutes ago.

As lwj approaches he sees that actually wwx shoulders are shaking his hands are clenched into fists, his eyes shut tight so that his makeup doesn't run

Wei Wuxiann watches as the director is barking orders for someone to fix the set as another idol takes wwx's place and finishes the shoot. Apparently his acting wasn't "peppy enough" so they've replaced him with someone else

But this was his first gig in months, years actually but months since he tried to come back and for it to fail like this, so fast without anything to show for it is absolutely devastating. He'd tried so hard to give them what he thought he wanted, desperately hoping for his big break. Only to fail again.

What does he do? What can he say? Why does he even bother?

He's staring at the floor like it might have the answer to all his problems when a pair of white sneakers appear.

He tracks those sneakers up to meet the stonefaced stare of one of the PAs he's seen running around, the youngest one who's been doing the most menial tasks. He looks somewhat familiar but his face is impassive and wwx can't tell at all what he's thinking

The PA hands him a bottle of water that wwx takes with both hands, too taken aback to do much else. Then the PA slips his headset off and sits next to him, the black faux feathers of wwx's wings brushing against the PAs arms, though he doesn't seem to mind

And so they sat. Two nobodies hidden in the shadows of a forgotten corner in a busy studio, far from the reach of the shining spotlights and stage. Little by little, wwx finds it easier to control his breathing and stray sniffles.

Eventually, the PA starts taking off his hoodie, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. He reaches into his pocket and holds out a marker for wwx to take as he turns so his back is facing him.

When wwx, understandably confused, doesn't do anything, the PA glances over his broad shoulders and just says "Sign, please."

Wei Wuxian blinks waiting for the punchline but it never comes. He's not even on the roster for any boy group, just a trainee idol whose only fans are the diehards who follow the trainee circuit and his sister. And this guy doesn't seem like the former and he definitely isn't the latter.

But the PA just sits and waits, back facing wwx.

Eventually, almost mechanically, he signs his new autograph, the one where he uses the 2 W's to make a smile.

He asks for a name to make the signature out to, and the PA answers in a quiet hesitant voice that he can barely hear over all the background noise, "Lan Zhan."

That name sends a spark up his spine like it should be familiar but wwx can't figure out why. So he finishes his autographs with a star and a flourish. He hasn't gotten to test out the new signature yet. He thinks he likes it better than he'd expected.

Wei Wuxian beams up at him, heart beating a beautific beat against his ribcage and asks, "Why would you want a signature from a nobody like me?"

He means it as a teasing joke but the PA, Lan Zhan his brain corrects him, gives him a grave look that steals the breath from his lungs.

"You're not nobody, Wei Ying"

Lan Zhan takes the marker and slips his hoodie back on, covering the autograph with their two names side by side, and with a final nod he walks away, melting into the general chaos of the production floor.

It takes a long moment for Wei Wuxian to realize he'd never told the guy his real name.

(originally a threadfic here)

[lynaferns]

Redraw (well, third attempt) of an old drawing from 2022.

Alright, this is a big one, so, PC users: left click the image, right click the image, open in another tab, zoom and see all the details you want.

Phone users: press down on the image, download, find image in your phone gallery, it will download at full quality so you can zoom and see all the details.

The fancy stars and the inside of the piano were a pain in the ass, everything else went pretty smoothly, or at least the average complications. I'm proud of how I mixed the colors in the piano. I was convinced I'd end up making a mess but it turned out nice.

Once again, this is finished because I decided so. I have no energy to make the final look I had in mind.

The piano alone, close ups (cuz the jpeg won't let you zoom at the very max and that sucks, so I screenshot from my art program) and an idea for an AU + youtube playlist I made that I relate too much to the AU under the cut. vvv

SO!

This was never supposed to be an AU, and I probably won't do anything regardless, but I got the idea while I was working on it last month. And since I have a liiiiiiittle basic knowledge of music and experience, specially in piano... well...

I had bad experiences learning music as a child so probably the story would reflect on that lol.

An old astral auditorium that's abandoned and in ruins during the day and gets all shiny and nice at night when it's illuminated by the light of the stars.

Sun, Moon and Eclipse are in charge of the place, they do their best at keeping the place standing… and are the main musicians that play for the stars every month, once or twice. The day and night transformation affects them too.

Violet (y/n that's not really a y/n at this point) is a young altruist and selftaugth violinist (yeah yeah, I'm very original with the names, hush) that came across this old auditorium. She starts visiting the brothers to play music during the day and decides to join them in the auditions to play for the stars, and help them modernize a little bit to attract human audience too.

The brothers play several instruments to be able to acompany each other if necesary buuut they each have a "favourite". Sun mainly Piano, Moon mainly Harp (can also play piano and viola to accompany Sun) and Eclipse can play any instrument Sun and Moon can and more, but likes accordion :)

Sun is the most strict one when it's about playing music even though he likes to mess around with songs and improvise during day hours when no body is around, but will feel guilty afterwards... Moon is a gremlin that likes messing up and playing with the instruments in ways you are not supposed to (like using the viola bow as a sword). Eclipse is easy going and will match the energy of their brothers while keeping them out of trouble. Clip doesn't really like playing for the auditorium and prefers improvising silly songs alone or with Sun and Moon.

You can ask me about this AU if it got you curious, I'll be glad to answer!

I still want to make the MC design at least. And maybe some sketch comics if I have the energy for it.

[alotofpockets]

Don't touch me | Alexia Putellas x Barca!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Don't touch me."

Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

Never before have you had a relationship that lasted more than three years. Three serious relationships in the past all ended right around the three year mark, always being ended by your partner with some lame excuse like it’s not you, it’s me.

The three year curse you had started calling it in your head, no one seemed to want you after three years. While it was probably all in your head and just some big coincidence, it still lingered in your mind every time you thought about the fact that your three year anniversary with Alexia was nearing.

You wanted Alexia to be the exception to “the curse” with every bone in your body, but you knew it wasn’t only up to you. Alexia had to keep wanting you, and at the moment it felt like she didn’t.

It seemed like she was getting distant with you. Almost every conversation she had with you was about football. While the sport was important to the both of you, and you took your jobs very seriously, you were afraid that it was starting to be the only thing that was keeping the two of you together right now.

At first you thought it was just the stress of the season. You were busy too with the intense training sessions and the games being so close together. But even on your days off, she seemed distracted. You had never seen her on her phone this much.

When you’d ask her about it, she’d shake it off with a simple, “Oh it’s nothing, cariño.” A small smile sent your way, before she’d dive into her texts again. Each moment was added to a rapidly expanding list of signs that Alexia didn’t want you anymore.

It was during a team party when all the things on your list started to come together. You hadn’t wanted to go to the party with your teammates and friends, but Alexia had insisted it would be good to be away from football for once. You had taken that as a sign in the right direction, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The party was loud, music and laughter filled the space. It wasn’t really your scene in the first place, but you knew a lot of the girls on the theme thrived in environments like this, so you went along with it.

With a drink in your hand, you were chatting with Ingrid and Frido. Your eyes searched the bar for Alexia, who said she was going to get a drink like twenty minutes ago. When you finally found her in the crowd, your blood ran cold. 

She stood to the side with a girl you didn’t recognize. The way her face lit up as she spoke to the stranger made you realise that they knew each other. When Alexia leaned in to whisper something into the girl's ear, your stomach twisted.

You excused yourself from the girls and got up to go to the restroom. Once in the small space you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears were welling up in your eyes, as all the puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place.

The texts, distance, meetings outside of the regular football ones, and now watching her with this girl. She was seeing someone else? You’ve had shitty break-ups and stupid reasons as to why thrown to your face, but cheating? That was a new low. 

How could she? All the hope you had left for your relationship to beat your three year curse flowed away with the water you let run down your hands. You splash your face with the tab water before you enter the bar again. 

You wanted to go home, but you felt bad about just leaving, so you decided on just going back to Ingrid and Frido. That is until you saw that Alexia was walking towards you, “Hola cariño, I missed you.” She puts her arm around your shoulder but you’re quick to shake it off.

“Don’t touch me.” you say to gritted teeth. She moves her arm away quickly, but full of confusion. “What’s wrong?” You take a step back, “It’s fine, I just need some space.” Before Alexia could say anything, you had turned on your heels and ran out of the bar. You faintly heard her call after you, but you didn’t turn around.

You had called a cab and got them to drive you to your apartment to grab some clothes and gear you needed, and then drive you to your friend’s house. Luckily your friend didn’t ask too many questions when you showed up on their doorstep with a suitcase and a backpack slung over your shoulder. Your tear stained face combined with the time probably said enough. She simply stepped aside, offered you a hug, and said “Stay as long as you need.”

After slumping down on her couch, she let you be. Only coming back to offer you a pillow and some blankets. Grateful for her understanding, you got comfortable on her couch. 

As comfortable as you could be while playing what happened at the bar over and over in your head. Alexia’s confused face when you pushed her away sent a pang of guilt to your chest, but you had to remind yourself that seeing her with that girl hurt you. You tried fighting back the tears, but they came anyway.

The next morning you wake up to a note saying your friend had left for work, but that you were free to stay and take whatever you needed from the fridge. You pick up your phone to check the time to see your phone bombarded with messages. Amongst a few of your teammates checking in on you since they didn’t see you leave the bar, you saw Alexia’s name pop up.

Alexia: Cariño, what’s going on?

Alexia: Please talk to me

Alexia: I don’t understand what happened. I am worried about you

Alexia: Please just let me know that you are somewhere safe

As much as she had hurt you, you couldn’t leave her messages unanswered.

You: I’m staying at Lauren’s. See you at practice

It felt weird texting her, and you were definitely not feeling up to seeing her. But you had a job to do, so you got ready for training nonetheless. 

When you got to practice, you hid behind a fake smile. You sat down at your usual spot next to Alexia, to make sure nothing seemed off to the rest of the team, but you didn’t speak to her. 

“Where did you go last night?” Ingrid asks from across the room.“Oh, my friend texted me with an emergency so I had to help her out, all good now though.” Everyone seemed to buy your lie, besides Alexia of course.

“Can we talk?” She whispered so that only you could hear her. “Later.” You said without making eye contact. Knowing that if you looked at her, you would break. You tie your laces and make your way over to the pitch without another word.

If anyone noticed the distance between you and Alexia, they didn’t say anything. You were keeping up your fake smile and tried to be as positive as you could, so no one would question you about something being up.

Alexia on the other hand seemed less composed. You felt her gaze on you during the whole training session. She seemed hesitant with her interactions, wanting to approach you, but not wanting to over step. Which clearly she had done yesterday, even if she hadn’t known what caused that.

The training session seemed to go on forever and Alexia’s eyes on you weren’t making it go by any quicker. Once the session finally came to an end, you quickly made your way over to get out of there as fast as you could, but Alexia sniffed out your plan quick enough to interfere. 

She pulled you aside and kept walking away from the rest of the team. “Please can we talk now? If you need space, I will give you space, but I need to know what I did wrong.” You looked her in the eyes for the first time then and saw the hurt and vulnerability in them. 

“Fine.” You sighed, and stopped so you could talk properly. “What happened last night?” Her voice was soft, like she was on the verge of breaking down. You crossed your arms over your chest, “You really don’t know?”

“Cariño, please. If I knew what happened, I wouldn’t have stayed up all night worrying about you.” Her lip quivered, but she continued. “One minute we are fine, and the next you’re pushing me away. I don’t know what happened, I don’t understand.”

“The girl.” You said bitterly. “The girl you were so cosy with at the bar is what happened. Who was she, Alexia?” Her brows furrowed, trying to figure out which girl you meant. 

“Oh, cariño, no. That is not what you’re thinking. Lo siento, lo siento mucho.” Your arms were still crossed over your chest when Alexia took a small step towards you. “That was Maia, she’s been helping me plan a surprise for you.” 

“A surprise for me?” Alexia nodded instantly. “Sí, para ti. For our anniversary.” 

Tears started streaming down your face when it started to dawn on you. “The texts, and you being distant was all because you were planning a surprise?” Alexia nodded guiltily. “Sí cariño. But I am so sorry, I didn’t realise how it was looking from your end. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You finally uncrossed your arms and reached out for Alexia, who instantly pulled you in for a hug. “Lo siento.” She whispered into your ear over and over again as she held you close. 

While the comfort of her embrace was perfect, you still had to talk about what was going on in your head. “Alexia, I-” You stepped out of her hold. “I’ve been so scared. You know how I’ve never had a relationship longer than three years?” She nodded.

“Well, when you were starting to get distant, I thought the stupid curse was back to ruin us.” Alexia shook her head and brought you in closer again. “Cariño, no. I love you, and I don’t care about some stupid curse. I want you now and forever.” 

“But it felt like you didn’t want me anymore, like all we talked about was football. It was like there was no connection between us besides football.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. Alexia wiped it away instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was making you feel this way. I was so focussed on planning the perfect surprise that I forgot to show you how much you mean to me everyday.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, cariño?” You let her pull you back in for another hug. “For starters, let’s pick up my stuff from Lauren’s so I can come back home. And then I need us to communicate better, and be more present in our relationship, even when our mind is elsewhere.” Alexia nodded along, “I promise. I never want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” You pecked her lips softly. “Come on, let’s get changed and pick up your stuff.”

She takes your hand and walks you back towards the training facility. “So, a surprise?” Alexia smiled and nodded, “Yeah, but I can totally tell you everything about it, if that will make things better. Just say the word.” You squeeze her hand, “I think it can stay a surprise, just don’t go all distant again, please.” 

She pulled your intertwined hands up to her lips and placed multiple kisses on the back of your hand, “Never again, cariño, never again.”

-----

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[josephquinnswhore]

where you go, I go - stalker joel miller x female reader AU.

summary: joel hasn’t been the same since ex his wife abandoned him and his daughter, but he’s been watching you for months.. you’re the perfect replacement.

word count: 1.1k

content warning: extreme stalking, harassment, unhealthy infatuation, murder, brief mention of potential kidnapping, unhealthy idealism, manipulation, gaslighting.

Today was really not the day for this, your complete lack of intolerance to bullshit had reached its capacity.

But this had been happening every attempt for the past week, a relatively new and frankly.. abruptly confusing issue.

The button on your key fob for your car makes the indicators flash orange each attempt to pry the boot open. With a click or the button, it’s supposed to open the boot automatically.

But your car doesn’t do that, no. It insists on a one armed wrestling match while you have to click the button simultaneously.

Thanks to Joel, the man that has been absolutely infatuated with you for months, since you’d hired them for a minor job, just a custom order bookshelf. Not something the men would typically accept but Joel was absolutely infatuated with you.

Since then he hadn’t ever been far from where you were. Even if that meant showing up to your house at night and sabotaging apart of your car.

It’s hot out. These Texan summers were no joke and with no breeze, the beads of sweat meticulously lined upon your forehead, not one inch of it wasn’t covered in sweat.

“Come on!” With a grunt of frustration, you attempt to wrestle the boot open again, pushing it down to try and get the latch unstuck.

He watches on as you struggle with the boot of your car for the third time this week alone, how you managed to live your life without a man to take care of you was a real mystery to him.

As amusing as it is to watch you struggle, he figures he needs to approach before some other man offers a helping hand. The last thing Joel needs is to bury another goddamn prick on your behalf. You should be thanking Joel, really.

But he understands, you don’t know. You’re vulnerable, completely none the wiser to the fact that a man that mowed your lawn once a fortnight, had managed to peep through your bathroom window and caught a glance of your bare skin while you were showering.

Unaware that anyone was watching you groan again in frustration, about ready to pull your hair out. “Why the hell is this happening to me today?!”

“Excuse me, miss?” A well recognised Southern, Texan accent calls out to you with a hint of amusement and curiosity. Turning around, the man was closer than you’d expected.

“You need something?” Perhaps you were snappier than you should’ve been, and he raises a singular eyebrow at you.

“I’m sorry. I just.. need help with this. Pain in the ass. I have cold stuff and it’s hot as shit out here!” You ramble incessantly to the man who just tilts his head.

As he steps forward. “Mind if I give it a try?”

“Good luck to you—“ before you could even finish the scornful sentence the boot was open.

“How did you do that?” Disbelief wavering in your tone.

He shrugs, folding his arms over his chest, the shirt tightens and the muscles in his arms bulge. A fitting distraction to keep your eyes away from the fact that he had just sneakily attached a tracking tab onto your car. Underneath the number plate.

Now, he already knew your home address. But he had to make sure that you weren’t seeing anyone.

You were certain he had caught you staring. “These older models have a few minor issues, I learnt that working on my own truck, I suppose.”

Now that were true. But he wouldn’t really tell you the reason he knew how to fix this particular issue.

“What’s your name anyway?”

He starts packing your groceries into the now open boot, a few bags in each hand at a time.

The veins in his forearms protrude out of the skin.

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

Once he’s finished packing your groceries away, he closes the boot. “Shouldn’t have no more issues with it.”

You raise a brow. “You’re not gonna ask my name?”

He doesn’t want to, because he already knows it.

He almost laughs, almost. “What is your name, miss?”

When you reply with your name, he doesn’t at all seem phased, which was odd. “You kinda look familiar, actually.”

He keeps a calm expression, looking around the carpark as he gives a warm smile. “I live around here. Do contracting for a lot of houses around town.”

He could’ve felt his gut drop in that moment, maybe you’d figured him out. Perhaps you were about to call him out on what he’s been doing, sneaking around your goddamn house at night, sabotaging the boot so that it wouldn’t open properly.

Perhaps if that were the worst case scenario, he would just have to whack you on the head and shove you into the boot of your little car and drive you to his house. Chain you up and explain that he’s not a bad guy, he just cares for you. No one else cares for you like he does.

Thankfully, it doesn't come to that, because you’re clueless, really. It’s sad to see that you don’t protect yourself. If Joel could get away with all of this unseen. Imagine the real creeps that would take advantage of you.

Joel had been creating all of these minor issues for you, so that you would perhaps seek him out if he happened to.. by chance.. be nearby.

Come to think of it, there was a white pickup that had some sort of business name on the side of it. Been around your street a few times this week, actually. Perhaps he’s got work in the area?

Ain’t really your business to ask though.

“Yeah, I suppose. Thanks anyway, for this.. I should get home now. Don’t want all the dairy and meat to spoil.”

By now you really should be leaving.. but you feel compelled to give the helpful man your number.

“Maybe I can thank you properly one day for lending a hand.”

You quickly scribble it down on the back of your long docket and hand it to him.

“I’ll contact you,” albeit a simple response, he vows to you.

He takes the half crumpled paper with your number and nods with a warm smile, watching you as you get into your car and thank him again through the window before driving off.

A grim smile on his wicked lips as he watches the car leave the parking lot, knowing that even now, as you left, he would know where you were.

Because where you were, Joel was always following close behind. He did, after all.. think you were perfect. The missing piece of the puzzle to his family. The right woman to give his daughter a caring, loving mother. And you—would be his wife. Joel was taking all the steps necessary to ensure it.

He would have he perfect family. He would have you.

Finally, with the number in hand, he was one step closer.

[drabbles-mc]

I'm Not Sorry

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, dry humping, semi-public hookup

Inspired by This Text Post: i should be riding some nerd's thigh while he gropes all over my body & tells me i'm the girl of his dreams

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: i've been struggling to finish fics lately but i saw that text post a couple days ago, knew i wanted to write about it for Bob, and then BAM this all fell outta me tonight. unbeta'd to the max but Bob Floyd deserves to fuck so time was of the essence 😌

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

If you wanted to be dramatic, you could say that you and Bob had been playing a very coy game of cat and mouse for months. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. A majority of the time that you spent with each other was work-related. It was usually work related, and there was almost always other people around. The closest the two of you got to having time alone was when all of you went out together and everyone else got distracted with pool or darts or each other. So while it might’ve been months according to the calendar, it wasn’t really quite that drastic.

Still, though, you tried to make the most out of the time that the two of you got to have.

It was easy, especially at first, to get a rise out of him, to get his cheeks to flush pink, to get him tripping over his words. A seemingly accidental touch, a well-timed innuendo or wink—that’s all it really took. You didn’t say anything about it but you noticed each time his gaze would break, eyes flickering down from yours to your mouth anytime your teeth dragged along your bottom lip. It never took much with him and for a while you just chalked it up to the fact that he was sweet and shy and a little awkward, that anyone flirting with him like that would get that reaction out of him. It wasn’t until you saw him perfectly unfazed at The Hard Deck one night when a girl at the bar was all but falling into his lap that you realized it wasn’t a Bob thing. It was a you thing. Once you realized that, it was all bets off.

There had been more than one occasion when thanks to your subtly wandering hands Bob nearly spat his drink out across the bar or dropped the bottle from his hand completely. You were able to keep a straight face and play it off, and every now and then Bob was able to recover with some grace, but there had been a time or two when he’d caught a few odd looks from the rest of the crew. It was easy enough to wave them off and they’d let it drop, but the second his focus was back on you, you could tell that he was working overtime to stay on the right side of self-control. All you could do was smile and try to carry on like nothing had happened.

Truthfully, it had gotten to a point where you had almost just resigned yourself to this being what it was going to be like with you and Bob. You were trying to accept that this limbo, this knowing that you wanted him and he wanted you but neither of you really found the time to do much of anything about it, was as good as it was going to get. A never-ending chase, a game with no winners.

“Alright,” you said as you hopped off your barstool, “I gotta head out.”

“Why?” Rooster asked, sounding as though he couldn’t fathom why anyone would want or need to be anywhere else on a Friday night.

You laughed as you dug your wallet out, taking out a few bills to close out your tab and then some. “Some of us have shit to do in the morning, Bradshaw.”

He laughed and gave you a mock disbelieving look. “I don’t think so.”

Raising your eyebrows, you turned your head to face him. “You wanna close out my tab, then? Sounds like you might wanna close out my tab.”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Forget it—see you Monday.”

You laughed a little harder at that. “That’s what I thought.”

It didn’t seem like your departure disturbed the flow too much, everyone falling back into their previous conversations as you made your way to the bar to square up your tab. You didn’t even bother looking back as you made your way to the door of the bar. By the time your feet hit the blacktop of the parking lot, you were already fishing your keys out of your bag.

Once you were a few strides away from the bar and the clamor of noise coming from inside died down, all you heard was the sound of your own footsteps, and the ocean not too far off. It was peaceful until you heard someone else’s footsteps behind you. The sound alone wouldn’t usually have been strange. Someone else deciding to leave the bar at the same time as you wasn’t a weird occurrence. What made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, however, was the fact that the footsteps were getting quicker and closer. You felt your jaw clenching, positioning your keys between your fingers the way you’d always been taught. You were only a few steps away from your car now but you still found yourself taking a deep breath, getting ready to turn around and see whoever it was that was behind you. You were about to turn and brace for impact when you heard Bob’s voice calling out your name, a little breathless, and very rushed.

Turning around and seeing him, some of the tension disappeared. You huffed, shoulders dropping. “Jesus, Bob.”

There was an apologetic smile on his face as he realized what had just happened. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you slipped your keys so that you were holding them in your hand normally again. You managed to laugh at the potential worst case scenario versus the reality of the situation. “Another step without saying my name and I think we both would’ve been sorry.”

He stepped in a little closer to you as he nodded towards your car. “Just wanted to walk you to your car.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you turned and started the last few steps across the lot with him. “You know, walking me out to my car is much more chivalrous and much less creepy when you tell me you’re going to do it.”

There was a smirk on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Guess I’ll have to remember that next time.”

Silence took over the space between you, and while it was comfortable enough, you couldn’t help but to feel like there was more to it, something in the air. Hitting the unlock button on your keys, the lights of your car flashed once. You looked at Bob, then at your car, and then back to Bob. “Well,” you chuckled, “thank you for the company on this long, treacherous journey.” You reached for the handle on the driver’s door. “Hope we can do it aga—”

Bob cut your sentence short when he placed one hand on top of yours on the door handle, keeping you from opening it. Before you could jump to another sentence and ask him what he was doing, his other hand was pressing against the small of your back and pulling you into him so that he could press his lips to yours in a kiss that was intense and nervous all at once.

It lasted just long enough for you to realize what was happening and how good it felt and then he pulled away. Going off the way his eyes were wider than you’d ever seen them, he was just as surprised at himself as you were. Despite the shock all over his face, he didn’t take his hand off your back, although the one that was covering yours on the door dropped back to his side.

“Sor—I’m sorry,” he finally forced out. “I’m…” he trailed off as he looked at you, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

Another second passed in heavy silence, and when you didn’t try to break free of him, didn’t try to push him away, he let the rest of his sentence die on the tip of his tongue as he kissed you again. You could feel the way that he was more confident this time, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the thin fabric of your tank top as he pressed you against him.

You brought your hands up so that they were resting in the crook of where his neck met his shoulder. One slid up, thumb beneath his jaw as he deepened the kiss. It was all you could do to not ball up the cotton of his t-shirt in your fist, put it in a vice grip so that he couldn’t try to get away. However once you felt the way his tongue pushed into your mouth, and the way he used his body to pin you between him and the side of the car, it became clear that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

He had one hand still on your back, one hand braced against the side of your car. It was the first time it ever seemed like he was crowding you, like he was trying to make you seem small. You didn’t mind it. With the way he was kissing you, you were fairly certain you wouldn’t mind anything.

The next time the two of you came up for air, he didn’t pull far enough away for you to really see him. You were just far enough apart for your lips not to be touching, but you could still feel the side of his nose pressed against yours. You could still feel his breath against your skin. The two of you were pressed so tight against each other that you could’ve sworn you could feel the way his heart was about to beat clean out of his chest.

“Shit,” the word fell from his lips in a whisper, followed by an equally soft laugh. His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “I’m…I’m not sorry.”

You laughed at that, couldn’t help yourself do to anything but. “Good.” Your hand slid from his jaw to the back of his head. “You shouldn’t be.” Kissing him again, you let your teeth pull lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled away. “Only thing you need to be sorry for is taking so long.”

He smiled and shook his head. If the lighting had been better you were sure that you would see a blush all across his cheeks and down his neck. You’d have to settle for the mental image of it. “Didn’t see you chasing me down across any parking lots for a kiss before this either,” he rebutted with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

The humor died down out of his voice as he said, “You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

You nodded, noses brushing against each other. The bridge of his glasses bumped against your forehead for a split second in the process. “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Your bodies were pressed together so tightly that you felt it when he sucked in a quick breath. There were a million things that he wanted to say to you and he couldn’t make himself say any of them in that moment. He had his hand on your back and the taste of your kiss on his lips and yet none of the things he’d been thinking over the passing months were making it out.

The feeling of your fingers toying with the longer strands of his hair centered him enough for him to smile as he said, “At least you know that. I—oh—” He fumbled his way out of the sentence when he felt your lips on his neck.

“Bob?” you said, lips brushing against the column of his throat as you spoke.

“Y-yeah?” he stammered out, and you could feel the vibrations against your lips as he talked.

Taking one hand off of him, you reached and pulled on the handle to the back door of your car. You kissed him again, pushing both of you off the side of the car in the process. “Get in the car.”

He was far enough away that you could see the shocked look on his face. “What?”

You placed your hands on his sides, switching your positions so that he was closer to the car than you. “Car.” You kissed him. “Back seat.” Another kiss. “Now.”

“Now?” He looked around the parking lot. Full of cars but completely devoid of people. “Here?”

You laughed as you pushed him farther back, causing him to duck slightly as he went backwards into the car. “Preferably, yeah.”

“I don’t—whoa,” he fell back across your back seat, managing to brace himself on his forearms.

You shimmied in after him. Pulling the door shut behind you, you climbed on top of him, one leg between his, the other pinned between the outside of his leg and the back seat. It was close quarters, but you weren’t exactly looking to put any distance between the two of you.

Your hands landed on his shoulders, fingers curling over the curve of them as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Whatever reservations he’d had about your current location disappeared almost immediately once your lips caught his. His hands were on your hips for a moment. You could feel the way he tightened his grip even through the denim of your shorts. Your lips and his met over and over, each reconnection making him a little bolder.

He managed to get his thoughts together just enough to pry one hand from your hip so that he could reach up and take his glasses off. He all but tossed them up and onto the center console between the driver and passenger seats. You were smiling and about to make a comment about the action but you didn’t get the chance. He brought his hand back to you, starting off on the soft, exposed skin of your thigh. His touch was soft at first, but quickly started to change. His fingers dragged up your leg before slipping past the bottom hem of your shorts.

Your pleased gasp of surprise when you felt the pads of his fingertips over the lace of your panties was quickly smothered as he pulled your lips back to his again. His grip on your ass tightened, pushing you down harder onto his thigh and causing you to moan into his mouth.

For a split second you couldn’t believe it. All this time and Bob hadn’t been able to make a move, couldn’t believe that you wanted to fool around in the back seat of your car—that same man was now grinding you down against his thigh in a way that had you wet and clenching around nothing.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, muttering out a quiet, needy, “Fuck,” as you continued to move along the top of his leg.

When you pulled back enough to see him, you saw the way that he was watching the movement of your hips. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, felt like he physically couldn’t tear himself away from the sight. His hold on you loosened as you found your own rhythm. A tiny whimper slipped past your lips, the sound involuntary as you savored the friction. The sound made his gaze snap back up to your face, and when he saw the want and desperation etched into your expression he thought that he was going to melt into a puddle right there on your back seat. What a way to go.

He pulled you back down into another kiss, your bodies flush practically from head to toe. Even as you continued to move against his thigh, you could feel the way he was shifting slightly, trying to get in the most comfortable position as he felt himself growing more and more aroused with each passing second. He didn’t let you pull away, though, didn’t let you put any distance between you. With you pinning his leg to the seat, Bob let his hands wander up underneath he fabric of your shirt. Suddenly it was like you felt his hands everywhere—your back, your sides, your chest. He slipped them down past the waistband of your shorts and underwear, fingers kneading the flesh of your ass in a way that with everything else had your legs starting to shake.

Bob could feel it, too. He could feel the increased sense of urgency in your movements, the way you were chasing after something and you almost had it. He was half-expecting to be woken up and find out that this was all just a dream. But not even his dreams had been this good, felt this good.

He dragged his lips off of yours, trailing them along your jaw instead. He left a string of sloppy, desperate kisses in his wake until his lips were beside your ear. One of his hands crept up your back, palm and fingertips scorching your skin in the best way.

“I meant it, you know,” his whisper came out lower than you’d ever heard, a tiny hint of a tremor to it, “when I said I’ve been wanting this—you.” He kissed below your ear, feeling the shaky breath you let out at that, at his words. “But even when I thought about it,” he kissed your jaw, “or dreamed about you,” he kissed your neck, “it wasn’t—shit—it wasn’t anything compared to this.”

Fighting the urge to bury yourself into the crook of his neck at his words, you pulled your head back. You cupped his jaw roughly in one hand and crashed your lips against his. His arms slithered around you and wrapped you tightly against him. He could still feel the slight shake in your legs.

“Bob—”

He stole another quick kiss. “I’d wait all over again for this.”

You could hear it in his voice how genuine he was being. You tried not to let yourself get distracted by his still-wandering hands, or his erection that you could still feel through his jeans. You tried to start your sentence again. “Bob, I—”

“Let me—”

“Come home with me,” you cut him off right back this time, deciding to just get to the point of what you were trying to say.

Confusion flashed across his face for a quick moment. “What?”

“Come back to my place.”

“I thought—”

“I wanna do this.” You sat up enough so that you could drag your fingertips down over his chest and stomach, even doing it over the fabric of his shirt had him starting to squirm with want. “But I’d rather do it somewhere where I don’t have to worry about smacking my head off the ceiling if I sit up all the way.”

The statement got both of you to laugh. “That’s fair.” He paused, a smirk on his face as he said, “Car was your idea, though.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m feeling a little impatient. Sue me.”

He pulled you into another kiss, one that every time you thought it was over he’d pull you back in all over again. As much as you wanted to get him back to your apartment and laid out on your bed, you also knew that you’d spend as much time as he wanted to doing exactly what you were doing right now. Anything to keep him this close now that you had him there.

When he released you from the kiss, he looked up at you with that same smile, that same slightly dazed look to in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn’t really believe it either. You couldn’t believe that any of it was happening at all, but you were also having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that Bob Floyd, the same man who could barely make eye contact with you at the bar the first time you all went out together, was the same man who looked like he was about to try and strategize how to best make use of your back seat so he wouldn’t have to wait to get back to your apartment.

“I live less than ten minutes from here,” you said, already knowing what he was going to say.

His hands moved around to the front of you, fingers just barely curled over into the front of your waistband. You pretended not to notice the way he was toying with the button of your shorts. “Thought you had things to do tomorrow?”

You laughed, leaning in and kissing him. “I still do. Now they’re just,” you ran your hand lightly over the crotch of his jeans, enough pressure to get him to buck into you, “different things.” You giggled quietly at the purposeful breath he sucked in. Reaching over, you grabbed his glasses for him. “C’mon. You can ride shotgun.”

He propped himself up by his forearms again as you untangled yourself from him. “What if—”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you stopped his sentence short. “Little late to get shy now.”

He smiled, face starting to turn red. “Right.”

The only thing that passed between the two of you were knowing looks and soft laughter as you scrambled out and into the front seats of the car. It wasn’t until you were pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that you spoke up again, trying not to be too distracted by Bob’s hand creeping higher and higher up on your thigh.

“So,” you looked over at him for a second before returning your attention to the road, “you dreamt about me?”

His head dropped back against the headrest and you couldn’t help but to laugh at his faux exasperation. He gave your thigh a squeeze. You were expecting a joke, one of the witty little comebacks that he had a way of finding in the right moments, but instead he let himself be serious as he said, “Yeah, I did.”

The three words hung in the air between you, and you felt the butterflies that you’d been too busy to feel before in the heat and the rush of everything else. You could feel the way that Bob was looking at you while you looked at the road.

“How much longer?” he asked.

You laughed, sparing him a glance. “Six minutes, tops.”

He nodded, fingertips grazing up and down your thigh, goosebumps breaking out over your skin despite how warm your car was with its still-fogged-up windows. “Six minutes.”

[miyukisu]

Need Your Lips On Mine .ᐟ

❤︎ | You'd think he'd be more enthusiastic to get his hands on you because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, but maybe it's time to turn the tables (2.3k wc) ╰ feat. osamu dazai (bsd) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 9 | kinktober masterlist

tags - reader works at the cafe, dom/sub dynamics, dazai is mean and annoying, edging, implied mutual masturbation, semi-public smex, toys, light bdsm (he's bound by the hands lol), blowjob, no p in v, p*rn with plot, reader is feisty, profanity

minors do not interact

"Take your hand off... I swear... they're gonna catch us sooner or later."

Your words fell on deaf ears as one bandaged hand kept itself under your skirt and on your ass. "If you keep quiet, then maybe no one will get caught. Hm?"

You let up, settling for nasty side glances at him every once in a while instead. Of course, you were met with Dazai's cheeky smile. This bastard really thought that by having a secret relationship—he could be annoying anytime he wanted as long as it was done in secret.

His job required to keep the existence of your relationship confidential—at least that's what he said. You were the cashier at the cafe located beneath their detective agency's office. Dazai was a detective, that's all you knew and that was more than enough apparently.

A secret is a secret, you figured.

Kunikida was starting to give you weird looks from the booth. You flashed an awkward smile and tried waving at him, failing to look normal.

Well... maybe Kunikida knows.

Why else would Dazai be standing behind you while you were at the register? It was either you were up to no good or Dazai's begging you to forget about his hefty tab.

"Who're you waving at?" he whispers into your ear. You failed to realize how close he leaned down to you.

"Kunikida. He's starting to realize something funny's going on."

"Funny you say?" Dazai repeats before humming in thought. Whatever it was that was running through the detective's head—it probably wasn't anything good or innocent.

Dazai finally lets go of your ass, opting to drape an arm across your shoulders instead. It wasn't anything unusual—surprisingly—because Dazai has been known to be 'friendly' with the cafe staff.

He calls the attention of all the customers i.e. Kunikida, Atsushi, Kenji, and Ranpo who is sound asleep. "I'll be accompanying our cute little cashier on her break. Don't miss us!"

It was highly unlikely that anyone would. Kunikida doesn't even give him the time of day while Atsushi offered an uneasy smile. Kenji was his usual upbeat self and Ranpo—was still fast asleep.

────────────

It felt like an eternity of tongues clashing and breathless whispers blending into each other. Your hands were all over his lanky build while his hands remained firm on your behind. If you were to guess which body part he liked the most on a woman—you'd probably get it right.

Dazai pulled away first—not that he was breathless or anything; he just wanted to see what expression you had on your face.

"Someone's eager," he says in a lilted tone.

"Oh stop it. You disappear for a week... A WEEK!"

He laughs it off—disappearing for a week is business as usual for him. "Shhh... I'm here now though, aren't I? Besides, I find it quite cute how excited you are to get your hands on me."

That earned him a weak punch on the chest from you. "You're so annoying."

Dazai lets out another small laugh, amused by your irritation at him. "Oh, darling. You haven't seen the worst of it."

Knowing him and all the shit he pulls, those words should've made you run for the hills soon as you heard it. Dazai leans in, breath fanning the sweaty skin of your neck. It felt cool against the humid air of the cafe's storage room.

"I've got an idea," he whispers. "Don't move, okay?"

You hear a slight ruffling. Perhaps he was retrieving something from his coat pocket. Then, you feel something cold—something metallic—drag along your thigh. Though, you were unsure what it could be.

The feeling kept getting higher and higher, until it was at a place where you most dreaded it would reach. Dazai smiled as he dragged the unknown metallic object against the fabric of your panties.

"Wanna guess what that is, darling?"

You had a hint, but you decided not to indulge him in his silly games.

"You don't know?" he asks. "Well, I hope this helps!"

Dazai, skilled with his fingers, swiped the fabric out of the way and plunged the vibrator in one fluid motion.

"Good thing you got insanely wet from kissing me huh?"

Your first instinct was to close your legs, but Dazai was quick to put a knee between them. "W-what the fuck are you doing?"

"Thought I'd make things exciting," he says with an irritatingly bright smile. "Also because I have to go now."

Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him down to your level. "The fuck you mean you're going? You're seriously leaving me high and dry after basically ghosting me?"

He gives you a half-assed 'apologetic' smile. "I won't be too long. You can do anything to me once I come back."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

────────────

The rest of your shift was—to say the least—downright miserable. Of course, the stupid vibrator could be controlled by him. You weren't sure if it was purely coincidence or if he was secretly watching you, but the damn thing seemed to turn on whenever a customer would come up to the counter.

On the times you thought you could finally sit down and relax a bit, he'll make sure to turn it up a notch and give you a good surprise.

He gave you no reprieve as his antics continued until your shift ended and it was time to clean up. You were the only employee left because it just so happens to be the day when the most arduous clean up task fell into your care.

Once you heard the bell at the door ring and the familiar set of footsteps, you were ready to yell a certain man's ear off.

"Hey, darling."

"You son of a—"

Turning around, you were met with a smiling Dazai with a bouquet of flowers in his clutches. Normally, any other woman receiving flowers from a lover would be over the moon, but not you. Dazai was quite the unconventional man. Flowers were a tricky thing to interpret.

His smile turned lopsided before he slowly approached you. "I got you flowers."

"I can see that."

He chuckles again. "Can't you at least act like you're happy about it?"

"I don't want flowers," you exclaim.

He sighs, placing he beautiful arrangement on the counter beside you. "What do you want then, pretty?"

"You."

Dazai laughs a little louder this time as if what you said was so hilarious to him. "Me? Little ol' me? My sweet thing wants nothing else but me?"

"You're so annoying."

A large hand pats your unkempt hair. "Yes, I know, darling. You tell me almost everyday."

"Liar. I haven't seen you in a week. Besides—what the fuck is up with the vibrator? Do you know how many customers I've had toda—"

He silences you once more, placing a slender finger over your lips. "You get to do anything you want to me now though. Isn't that right, darling?"

The realization hits a bit too late, but it does, and small smile creeps on your face. This was going to be revenge for disappearing and for the stunt earlier.

You ask him to get the vibe out and he obeys without complaint—the metal apparatus stuffed in his pocket again. You hadn't realized how drenched you were until it was pulled out. But that doesn't matter right now. You were a woman on a mission.

No words left your mouth as you made quick work of his belt. Dazai's eyes never left your hands as he smiled to himself.

"Getting to the good part already hm?" he insinuates. But you don't respond, only silently walking behind him to bind his hands with his own belt. You've learned plenty of things from him and this was one of those.

"Ah hah... we're doing that kind of thing huh?" he says, continuing to talk seemingly to himself.

You walk right in front of him again, grabbing his collar like you did earlier today. With his face closer now, he should understand the situation he's in. "Be a good boy for me, okay?" you say before planting a soft kiss on his chapped lips.

Thrill and excitement coursed through every fiber of his being as you roughly pushed him back against the counter. He made himself weightless and easy to push around because this was entertainment for him as much as it was for you.

But the glint in your eyes tells him this wasn't simply any kind of entertainment for you. You had a plan and him not knowing anything for once gave him a rush he had gotten only in the past.

With the strength you had in your arms, you pried his vest and button up open—albeit you had to carefully unbutton some of the stubborn ones.

"It's kinda hot seeing you take control for once," he says.

Once all of the buttons were out of the way, you were met by his mostly bandaged abdomen. Even you were unsure of what was beneath these strips, but he was adamant to keep them on.

You ran your palms over his body, stopping at his heaving chest. "I've never seen you out of breath before. Are you that excited?"

"Am I? You should feel my dick," he counters.

You try your hardest to stifle a laugh by kissing his bandaged chest instead. The soft gesture seemingly had a soothing effect on him as his breathing slowed a bit and his expression mellowed out—like you had put him in a trance.

Then the kisses went lower and lower—his chest, stomach, until you were just above the hem of his trousers. His adam's apple bobbed, swallowing in anticipation.

"Wow," you mutter, palming at his aching erection. "You weren't lying huh?"

His laugh came out choppier than usual as if his typical air of confidence had been blown away. Dazai tried playing it cool. "Can you blame me?"

"Guess not," you shrug nonchalantly before working on the button of his pants. Thanks to having the belt off, his bottoms came off pretty easily—not that you needed it all the way off.

Palming at his hardening cock after the thin fabric of his boxers made his mouth water and his palms clammy. Even Dazai was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on with him. Perhaps it was the thick air inside the stuffy room or because someone was finally putting his ass in its place.

Whichever it was, it only served to make him exhilarated.

"This looks pretty painful," you coo at him. Dazai would have loved to gently caress your head as you knelt in front of him so sweetly, but alas, his hands were still bound behind his back.

He found it hotter how well you restrained him actually.

"Yeah, looks like you should do something about it no?"

In response, you pull the pesky fabric out of he way, freeing his leaking cock. Truth be told, you weren't expecting for him to be fully hard after all that. Dazai was rather... hard to impress—for a lack of a better term.

You swipe his weeping tip with a thumb before spreading pre all along his length. Looking up at him, you ask the question: "My hand or my mouth?"

"Be serious, darling. You know you need both to get all of me."

"Fine. Be a smartass and you get neither."

He lets out a labored breath. "Jeez. Fine. I want your mouth. Pretty please?"

For as much of a pain in the ass he is, hearing him be so compliant for once made him hard to deny. You rewarded him with a small kitty lick on his tip—to test the waters—before licking the underside of his length.

You've learned to pay attention to those spots. Normally, Dazai was good at hiding things, but it was easy to catch on his sensitive points. In the bedroom, with you, he was an open book.

You watched him—how his eyes were fixated on you—while you went down on him. It made you particularly satisfied seeing him throw his head back in pleasure.

It egged you on to fit more of him and to go faster. You gagged more than once and it was messy—really fucking messy.

Just how he liked it.

He had grown uncharacteristically quiet which was usually a good sign in this case. It meant you were doing good—so good in fact, that it shut him up.

Feeling his dick twitch, you knew he was painfully close. But he isn't getting that orgasm he craves so easily. No way.

Before he could bust his load, you pull away—a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his reddish tip.

Innocently, you stared up at him as if you've done nothing wrong—as if you didn't blue ball him just now.

"Hah... darling... I was so close..."

He sounded so breathless... so desperate. His heart fell to his stomach when you got off your knees and dusted yourself off. Was that it? Was he going to be left standing there with his dick out and aching?

You turn away from him, walking a couple of steps. He could tell you were fiddling with your uniform, but he was concerned more about his predicament down there.

"Thought you were the only one who could edge me?"

He tries to get out of the restraint while you weren't looking, but that blowjob quite literally sucked the strength out of his body.

But all of his movements were halted once you turned around, blouse open and tits out all for him to see.

"Well, two can play that game, darling. Sit tight while you watch me, alright? Gonna play with myself for a bit. Hope ya don't mind."

You tried copying his sing-song tone, but no matter what kind of lighthearted tone you use, there probably isn't one that can fix the frustrated frown on his face.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note I'm kinda tired of writing p in v so here you go!! Some good ol' edging and teasing for the soul!!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Like no one is watching

summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?

a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧

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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.

The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.

The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.

"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.

"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.

"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.

"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?

"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.

"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.

"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.

A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.

But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.

Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...

"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.

"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.

"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."

You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.

"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.

[suni-writings]

Running out of time. | part 2

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn’t know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 1 | part 3

wc: 3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship, break-up, suggestive content)

Jude Bellingham knew a few things. He knew how good he was on pitch; he knew the perfect timing to pass, and he knew how to score beautiful and decisive goals. But above all, he knew he had royally screwed up with probably the only person he had ever liked after his terrible, boring and complicated relationship. And the guilt he carried on his shoulders from hurting someone that was too good for him, who had never wronged him at all was one of the heaviest burdens he had yet experienced.

He didn’t love her, no. He knew she didn’t love him either — neither of them allowed it to get that far. But he was in love. He knew it from all those moments he had with her, from all the times she faced troubles by his side, from every time she had forgiven him. From every caress, every kiss, every slight touch. And he couldn’t even get started on the sex.

Jude thought he was making the right decision — making her stay away from his problems, asking for her to still be around somehow, even if he didn’t know exactly where she’d fit in his life, and being selfish.

He only forgot, in the meantime, that she had also every right to be selfish and not take accountability of the way he felt or of what would hurt him. After all, that had been exactly what he did to her. After the conversation they had, the week after, she accepted the break. But he knew her better than that — it was, most likely, just her trying to be considerate. They had talked so much about her previous relationships when they were together that he knew things were done for her. She even texted him saying she found something out and was upset but left him on read once he replied.

At the end of the day, Jude was just a man. When they had gone no contact for two weeks because of him, he had hit on some girls. Put himself out there. He was so sure of what he wanted that it felt okay to be that selfish. He was mad at her for the way she acted at the club and had decided they wouldn’t match at all.

He also thought, being only 21, he had so much stuff to live. Why would he be stuck with someone he wasn’t even dating when he could live? He knew what he wanted.

Until he saw how much better she seemed without him. Jude wasn’t proud of it, but he kept tabs on her — usually checking her Twitter or her Instagram profile. She hadn’t tweeted anything in a few days and she was always going out; her Instagram stories filled with nice places, surrounded by friends and music, and looking majestic. Like he hadn’t hurt her at all. As if she felt nothing. As if, all this time, what was keeping her from thriving was him.

To say his ego was bruised was an understatement. He tried to give her tit for that, going out and posting, but even he knew he didn’t look near as happy as her. He still had her on his close friends, and she hadn’t posted anything in hers for a while.

Did she take him out of her close friends?

Why was she posting things so close to her male friends?

Why there were so many new people following her?

Who are those new people commenting on her posts?

Is this a friend of hers? Is she flirting?

It didn’t take a genius to understand that he was, more than ever, regretting. But Jude, always letting his pride take the best of him, wouldn’t show it. Not at all. He tried to act okay and nonchalant, as if he didn’t check his texts to see if she had finally replied, her Twitter account to see how her life was doing, her Instagram to check if she had found anyone at all.

Of course she must’ve had found someone new. Jude knew he could do the same, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He tried to go on a few dates, but every woman seemed so boring next to her. They didn’t talk like she did, they weren’t smart like she was, they weren’t near as funny as she was.

She, she and she. They were on a break, right? Technically, at least. She said she wouldn’t put any rules to the break, and at first that seemed like freedom to him. Now, it just felt like a taunt — a reminder she could not be there anymore when and if they got back. She had told him that, that he couldn’t expect her to be waiting on him forever. He couldn’t even expect her to wait, if he was being honest. Knowing her feisty personality, she would never wait on him.

Jude was filled with remorse. It was his choice and he thought he was doing the right thing, but he realized he had just been an impulsive prick. He got annoyed at her and thought he’d manage easily to be without her — after all, they were just a thing. A little serious, of course, but not official.

But when he laid in bed alone, he missed her caresses, as if only she knew the right way to mess with his soft locks. He missed her laughter, the smile that was always on her face when they were together. The shy way she’d get closer when she wanted him to caress her, almost as if she’d get too vulnerable for asking something he was more than willing to give her. God, he missed being at her place, on her bed, talking the whole day and his friends asking where the hell he had gone. He missed the sex, the way she’d pant his name, the way her eyes shut close when it was too much, how she’d hold his face when he was on top of her so his eyes would never leave hers. As if it was even necessary.

It seemed like he couldn’t find that on anyone else. Nothing even slightly close. He’d even try to picture her as some of the girls he went out with, but even that didn’t work. His life just seemed to go downhill as hers thrived.

It made him bitter. Jude made his bed, and he was lying on it.

Did she still think about him, at least? Did she keep tabs too? Was it an act?

Who was he trying to fool? She probably hated him by now. Not wanting to see even the slightest trace of his existence, if he knew her.

It was another insufferable Friday, which meant he had to find something to do. His life couldn’t stop just because one aspect of it was completely, utterly fucked. Jude texted his friends and most of them were going to this expensive, fancy bar they had the habit of going.

He truly liked the place — hanging lights, lots of plants surrounding it on the outside. The dark wooden, shiny floor and the elegant black marble where you’d get your drinks and the strategically placed couches of velvet in a shade of dark blue. It was pleasant, refreshing and ostentatious. Seemed like the perfect place to get her out of his mind.

Or so, he thought. He should’ve known better, he should’ve known she would, somehow, by an unfortunate coincidence, show up when he was decided to forget her for one night, at least.

His feet were making its way to her before his mind could stop it. Too focused on the way she sat on the couch, crossing her legs. The way that her skirt slowly rode up whenever she’d slightly shift her position and that goddamn leather crop top was, most certainly, going to be the death of him.

Jude’s eyes were so focused on the breathtaking, unexpected sight of her that he didn’t notice she had someone with her until he was too close. He opened his mouth, but words seemed to die on his dry throat. She seemed surprised to see him – not in a positive way, however. He could see the small, slight frown on her face and the glance of disappointment.

He shouldn’t have left his place at all.

“Wait, is this—?” The man next to her spoke up. He seemed to be excited about Jude’s presence and that made him want to scoff. If he knew about the situation, he’d be quiet. The man wasn’t bad looking, far from it, but not what she deserved.

What she deserves then?, Jude asked himself. Because it definitely wasn’t what he did to her.

“I’m him.” Jude replied as fast as he could, staring at the man with a firm look. He was probably unaware of the situation, so why was Jude even trying to defy him in any way? He wouldn’t understand it.

“How do you know Jude Bellingham?” Her date asked her, looking at her with the biggest smile.

She gave him a small smile in return. Jude knew that smile too well — the one where she’d thin her lips, trying only to be polite when she was more than annoyed. What a great situation.

“Not a story that’s worth telling, really,” she told the man. Ouch. “Hello, Bellingham. Fancying your night?”

To anyone else, she might’ve sound polite. However, he knew it was a taunt. It was her mocking him, rubbing in his face her despise over him.

“Fancying it much more now with the sight of you,” Jude replied with a cocky grin. He knew he shouldn’t be acting like that and that it’d only make everything worse, but he needed to get at least a reaction out of her. To know there was still something she felt about him, even if it was buried deep down. Anything.

She just scoffed. It was clear that, if she could ignore his presence, she would. Perhaps he should’ve thought before moving his feet.

“I suppose you and I should talk,” Jude said after clearing his throat.

“I suppose that, if I wanted to talk to you, I’d have replied to your texts.”

Good point, he thought.

“I’m back.” Jude blurted out, his voice sounding too firm for someone who just said something his mind didn’t process. Being impulsive yet again, as if it wasn’t exactly why he ended up in this situation.

“I’m not.” She said with a sarcastic smile. Her date stared at her and then glanced at Jude, finally placing the pieces of the puzzle together. She must’ve talked about her situation with him, because he didn’t look that excited about Jude anymore. In fact, he seemed displeased.

“Well, I think you should be,” Jude said and looked into her eyes. “And I think we should talk.”

She rolled her eyes. Thankfully, she knew him enough to know that he wouldn’t give up until they had a proper conversation, even if that meant she’d throw everything he had done in his face. Even if that meant all he’d get from her was sarcastic, snarky comments. She muttered an apology to her date, promising she would be back soon enough. Jude guided her somewhere a little far from the man, giving him a glance before staring at her.

“Did you really have to interrupt my date?” She asked with annoyance. He had forgotten how beautiful she could look when she was angry and how kissable her lips could turn.

“Please,” Jude rolled his eyes. “Is that who you’re fucking with? You could do better than him.”

“First of all,” she raised her fingers. “That’s none of your business. And second, doing better than him definitely isn’t doing you.”

He had it coming.

“Look, I fucked up—”

“And I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. I’m not in the mood.” She cut him off and he sighed, one hand running through his hair.

“I’m back. You said it was a break, didn’t you?” He asked, his tone more possessive now, allowing emotions to take control of him. “Let them know I’m back. Whoever it is you’re fucking with, I’m back.”

She stopped for a second, her brain processing his words. She didn’t see it coming, and neither did he.

“Did you seriously think I’d wait for you?” She asked, looking into his brown eyes. God, he’d do almost anything to have her looking in the soft, affectionate way she did. He forgot how cold she could be when she wanted to, and how it used to spread though her expressions.

“I’m not dumb,” he replied and looked away for a second, glancing once again at the man that was far away from them, scrolling through his phone as he waited for her.  “Is he keeping you satisfied, mama?”

“Mama?” She scoffed. “Ask my undone sheets, asshole.”

“So he touched you before you came here?” Jude asked, his jaw tightening. Technically, it was none of his business. Technically, he wasn’t allowed to feel like that. Technically, she was never his.

Technically.

“Since when are you this inconvenient and nosy?” She asked, not bothering to answer his question. He bit his lip, the thought of someone else having touched her before he even got the chance to see her that day killing him.

“Since I decided I’m coming back for good.” He replied firmly.

“You’re not coming back. There’s no fixing what you did.” She retorted. He didn’t even realize how heated the argument got, nor how his body instantly leaned closer to hers.

He was at her mercy, but of course she didn’t know that. How could she after what he did?

“There’s nothing broken, so of course there’s no fixing.” He said and she raised her eyebrows, read, to throw some sarcastic remark, but he continued: “It’s unfinished. It’s different.”

“It’s very finished. It’s over. Over.” She said in a somewhat aggressive tone.

Oh, how he wanted to just grab her by the arms and shut her up. He was always good at doing that.

“You know what pretty? Words are coming out of your mouth, but I just can’t seem to listen to them.” Jude smirked. “Wanna talk closer to my face? Maybe put some sense into me, hm?”

“If I get any closer to your face, it’ll be to slap you.”

He was finally getting a reaction from her.

“I wouldn’t mind. I kind of deserve it, after all.” He shrugged. “You know it makes no sense you and whoever that guy is.”

“Edward. His name is Edward.”

“Great. Another reason why it makes no sense.” Jude grinned and held back a chuckle from his own sentence. “Did I fuck up that badly that you just chose a guy named Edward? Thought you had gone through your Twilight phase when you were a child.”

She shook her head. He could see that even her wanted to laugh at his joke. She probably would, if it was someone else saying it.

“Yeah, you did fuck up that badly.” She replied and he could feel a pang hurt in his chest. His expression quickly faltered, and he took a deep breath.

“Princess, I’ll be fully honest with you,” Jude said, feeling like this could be the only time she’d hear him, now he had broken one of her walls down. “I won’t lie and say I was a saint in the meantime. I won’t even say that you’re wrong about the intentions I had when I wanted to break things off, but not enough for you to leave. But to say I’m regretting is an understatement. Can’t find you anywhere.”

She sighed. She had known his intentions from the moment he tried to keep her around, despite apparently not wanting to be with her anymore

“Took you losing me to find that out?” She asked, her voice vulnerable.

“No,” Jude quickly replied, shaking his head and caressing her cheek to try to calm her down. He didn’t even know how she allowed him to touch her. “No, baby. I knew it when I had you, I just—” he sighed. “I was dumb. So dumb. And blind, as well.”

She sighed as well, taking a step back a Jude’s hand slowly left her face. The distance that was created made his heart ache. He wanted to be able to touch her again, to hold her. To rebuild the trust that he had wrecked.

“Just because you realized that you were dumb and what you actually lost,” she looked at him. “Doesn’t mean I’m taking you back. I’m sorry— well, not really. I do think you deserve it, but I don’t mean to harm you by not taking you back. It’s not out of spite, it’s just—”

“I broke your trust,” Jude finished her sentence and she nodded. He knew about her trust issues, and she had warned him so many times. In fact, she had warned him about everything that was happening; how, if they ever broke what hey had up, he’d be the one losing. How she knew her worth, how she wouldn’t come back. And how her good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.

Still, he gave her a soft smile.

“I get it. I do. And I also think I deserve it,” Jude bit his lip. “But I can be persistent. And, also, I have your coat back home. I can always use that as an excuse.”

She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. He was certain she had forgotten about her coat and would now be asking for it back. At least, he had a proper excuse to text her and to try to meet her again. Alone, preferably, not with the company of another man.

“Go back to him,” he said, his tone lower now as she began to walk away. He was defeated, but the war wasn’t over. Not yet, not now. “But princess?”

And, for some unbeknownst reason, she looked up at him when he called her by her nickname.

“Don’t let him touch you,” Jude said, and she knew what he meant. “You and I, we’re not done. You want war, then I’ll show you what’s in store. But this is not over.”

With that warning, he let her go.

He would do anything to win her back.

[urgardenandmine]

crushes and beats ☊ - m. lee

summary: you have a small adventure in SM's building and meet a cutie genre: fluff pairing: m!reader x mark lee word count: 2.1K

the weather was NOT in your favor on this summer day. well, not just the weather but the whole week itself.

this week was your first week within the SM building after winning what seemed to be a total scam considering you saw the ad to attend a once a year producer group session with a bunch of others from other countries. 

you received the news in your college dorm, while you were aimlessly scrolling on your x feed, just reposting a bunch of mindless posts on what a hippo would look like crossed with a watermelon. as you were scrolling on your phone, you saw the ad plastered in the usual pastel pink they would always use to market their stuff.

"CALLING ALL PRODUCERS!

Want to be a part of SM’s producing session and possibly be chosen to compose a song for our artists? Here’s your chance!

Go to our website and click the form!"

it looked inviting but what if it wasn’t real? (even though you still did it so it was real considering you were now here in their branch in korea.)

while in your dorm, you were procrastinating on your homework. though you had asked for an extension, you were already approaching the extension deadline but i mean everyone deserves a fun small break now and then.

hopping out of bed, you slid into your soft and cozy koala slippers as you took five steps onto your classic off-white rolly chair. opening up your silvery blue laptop, you typed in the link below in the post you had seen earlier. clicking enter, you were taken to a google doc form that was headlined with the official SM logo. the title read “PRODUCER SUBMISSION.” it looked promising but you didn’t have high hopes of getting in. nonetheless, you clicked out the tab and opened up your drive of beats you had made. 

the requirement was the sample be at least a minute long, which was easy considering you had full song lengths of beats. looking at each one you had in your drives, you closed your eyes and clicked on one. opening one eye, you had saw that you clicked it yet the name wasn’t shown (which was somewhat concerning since most of your files were named with the most absurd names like “cocomelon’s rival.”). you shrugged it off, somewhat confident in your skills yet not so cocky you would just automatically book a flight to korea. 

fast forward to a day later, you had received an international call and was told by their marketing team that you won! except you were like literally in the middle of school and like you had to tell your friends, family, pets, the school itself and like whoever else was involved in your life that somewhat needed you nearby. you had received the call during a small passing period between your classes, choking on your apple while surrounded by your friends as you all ate under a tree. you immediately ran to your dorm, your friends close behind as you started to pack for the weekend to get onto the paid flight to another country. 

another fast forward, you were kinda not expecting this rocky ass start in korea where you had to keep up appearances. korea was apparently dealing with a small heatwave this summer, and by small, it was literally 38C (or 101F). you were dressed in long sleeves, not really thinking much on what you packed considering you were packing every ten minutes after every ten minutes of studying last weekend. it wasn’t a good system but you did ace your sociology quiz with a 45/50. 

you were racing through the concrete halls, seeing a bunch of staff walking in the other direction as you had your laptop nestled in one arm, also filled with a binder, papers and your lanyard dangling off your hooked index finger and a single iced sweetened americano in the other hand. in retrospect, you shoulda brought your bag but didn’t want to look like a newbie in front of people who were great composers. 

scanning the glass doors, you read the labels on them except one issue, you struggled to read korean. you squinted your [e/c] eyes, looking at each door as you slowly began to walk passed the doors. one door had said “recording room/(1)녹음실,” which looked familiar since you saw that in the syllabus you were given with your other companions. standing in front of the textured glass door, you took a sharp breath in and let out a relaxed breath out. this should be a piece of cake. you already braved a flight to another country, braved talking to the security guard since you were an hour late and spoke no korean, braved asking for a sweetened americano even though you forgot the word for sugar and ALSO braved wearing a big baggy long sleeve in this weather. 

looking down at your hands, you gently squatted down and placed your cup down at your feet. inching forward with your now one free hand, you turned the handle and turned a small 90 degrees, using your behind to keep the door open. you bent down, grabbing your cup as you then turned back around and pushed your way through the door. it was heavier than you expected but you came for a music workshop, not an actual wood workshop. 

the recording studio was huge, almost the same size as your dorm. to your right, there was an L-shaped black leather sofa. the walls were a soft beige, which differed from the color of the booth as the booth itself was an eggshell white. in front of you was the equipment you had researched beforehand. 

you stepped closer, amazed at all the technical buttons and other mechanics the sound technicians had to work with while the famed idols you have heard of. realizing you were too lost in thought, you shook your head and checked the time on your watch. 1:27 PM. the session should start soon, but it was weird considering you were the only one here but maybe even producers were sometimes a little late.

making your way to the couch, you sat down and placed your equipment in your lap. setting your drink on the carpeted floor, you smiled as you took the whole room as well as the experience. this was real and happening. you were here to show off your talents. 

the door soon slowly opened, causing you to shoot up and look at the one in charge of the session. as you slowly centered your focus, the person you expected wasn’t the one you were met with.

in front of you stood a somewhat lanky and built man, adorned in a grayish tame impala hoodie. he had baggy navy blue sweatpants as well, paired with zebra adidas. as well as that, he had black messy bed hair by the looks of it and rounded frame glasses. 

“(2)아, 안녕하세요.” the man spoke, extending his right arm as he bowed. you looked at him, bowing back and trying to reply with the same greeting he had said to you. standing up straight, the man eyed you as he raised his right eyebrow, smirking.

“you speak english?” he asked, his small laugh making you feel a bit more at ease.

“yes, thank god. i mean-!” you groaned, smacking your head gently as you placed your hand into your palms trying to hide your embarrassment as you spoke before you could even think. hearing a small hearty laugh, you looked up as you saw the man chuckle and hold his stomach.

“nah, no worries! that was me before coming here too.” he said, staring at you, shifting into a more comfortable stance.

“i’m mark, nice to meet ya.” he introduced himself, extending his hand as you reached for a firm shake. the name sounded familiar but it wasn’t so close to ringing a bell. 

“sounds kinda familiar.” you spoke, making him place a hand over his heart, feigning a hurt act.

“wow~, welp, hate to break it to you but i’m kinda known here. i’m in a group called NCT.” he explained, making you nod as you finally realized where he was from. NCT. they sounded familiar but your music taste was all over the place. you solely remembered NCT as the group who basically claimed the color green. you smiled at him, showing him your pearly whites as you chuckled.

“nice to meet you, mark. i’m [y/n].” you introduced yourself, giggling softly as you did a small wave at him. looking at him, a small blush creeped onto his ears as he cleared his threat and looked away. you tilted your head, seeing him blush. you blinked, feeling your own neck get warm as your cheeks were slowly getting more color. turning your head away, you coughed softly. 

mark looked back at you, then seeing beside you your equipment as he pointed. 

“what’s all that?” he asked, walking a bit closer as he stood a foot from you. you turned your head to your laptop and papers, smiling gently as you got closer to them.

“oh! i’m here from winning the SM producer/composer competition.” you explained, looking at him as he scratched the back of his neck. his smile had faded, causing you to look at him and be a bit confused.

“i kinda hate to break it to you but the producing session was at 11:30 AM.” he revealed, causing you to feel your heart break a smidge. looking down at your feet, you could feel your energy shift the mood in the room. you couldn’t believe that you misread the rubric time. how could you have misread “11:30” as “1:30?” granted, you were also trying to do an essay overseas from your college. letting out a somewhat exasperated sigh, you looked up at mark and smiled.

“well, thanks for letting me know! i’ll be on my way.” you forced a small smile onto your face, bending down to slowly grab your things. as you reached down, you felt his hand placed onto yours. looking to your right, your eyes met as he began to smile at you.

“well, i mean you’re already here so why not just show me what you got?” he suggested, causing you to blush harder than ever. mark smiled widely, grabbing you stuff as he placed it onto the table and opened your laptop for you. he sat down on the chair on the left, reaching down to grab a cord and plugged it into your laptop. as he turned his head, he had still saw you standing there, lost in thought. he had patted the chair across from him, signaling you to sit down. 

snapping yourself out of your trance, you shook your head and made you way to the chair. mark had scooted closer to you, causing you to relax from the nerves you felt as you stared into his eyes. you opened your files, searching for one to show him. as his brown eyes read every file, he chuckled and leaned into your personal bubble, pointing a finger at one file.

“can you play this for me?” he asked. your eyes trailed his finger, seeing the file he wanted to be played. you froze, the file being named the absolute most dumbest thing ever. 

“you want me to play this?” you reiterated. you didn’t even remember what this beat/sample sounded like. you were somewhat tipsy when making this (if drinking about almost ten moscow mule during a frat party was “tipsy”). 

“yes. i would like for you to play “daddy won’t lemme see the ice king.”’ he read, laughing between each word. you groaned, smiling as you shrugged it off and clicked on it. shutting your eyes tight, you prayed to god that this file was an actual work of art. to your surprise, it kind of was. the cord mark plugged into your laptop had played the file on the surround sound speakers above you. the sample was one that was more of an r&b vibe. the sample was similar to that of jazmine sullivan or lucky daye. 

looking to your left, mark was beaming. you chuckled, looking at him as he looked towards you. you immediately paused it, now remembering you weren’t sure if you were allowed to be in here. he slowly touched your hand, reassuring you. your eyes met, making you both feel comfortable enough with one another that you could drop each other’s guards. 

“i’ll make you a deal. you and i make a sick song out of this and i won’t tell if you won’t.” he proposed. furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at him a bit confused. he laughed sheepishly.

“i’m not really supposed to be here either.” he said, looking around as if he was a school boy that got caught pranking the teacher. you smirked, leaning forward. taken aback, mark looked at you as you bit your bottom lip.

“i won’t tell if you won’t.”

⋆｡°✩

(1) = 녹음실 = recording room/studio

(2) = 아, 안녕하세요 = ah, hello

i hope this story is good for y'all nctzens! i was a part of the group but not gonna lie, jeno's my favorite but no one heard that from me...

[yandere-romanticaa]

I need some Yandere Bokuto and Yandere Akaashi! Maybe together because of the friendship bokuto and akaashi have if thats alright (If not then do it seperate)

This would be one of the most functional pairs to have, even despite their stark and clashing personalities.

You most likely met them in highschool and it was a blast to be around them. Albeit, a bit intense at times. Bokuto was incredibly difficult to keep up with, especially if you're on the more introverted side. He wants you to attend absolutely every single game he and Akaashi are in, he's not even against you coming to practice either! Please do just that, it boosts him so much!

Even if he does get distracted by your smile sometimes but who cares! He certainly does not!

Bokuto is like a whirlwind storm - you never know when to expect him but you know that once he steps close there will be nothing but chaos. He's fun, kind. Gentle even. He tries to be, for you. He can be oblivious towards your feelings sometimes but he always has your best interests at heart.

He would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

Bokuto is needy, incredibly so. If he's not holding or kissing you 24/7 then what's even the point? You give him energy, your mere presence gives him drive and confidence like nothing else. Soon enough his presence starts to become suffocating. He is so deeply intertwined in your life, like sticky glue which you can't shake off no matter how hard you try. He managed to force his way into every possible crevice inside your life and he is always aware of what he's doing. His perfectionist nature commands him to do so.

However, if Bokuto is the powerful storm itself, Akaashi is the calm before the storm.

He lurks. Constantly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depends who you're asking) there are times when Bokuto can't be with you no matter how badly he wants to be. Akaashi becomes something of a second shadow of yours, constantly tailing after you, taking care of you in the most subtle yet gentle ways. He offers you water regularly, he has you wear his warm jacket on warm days and he regularly chastises you if you think of doing something stupid. He's not completely sweet to you though, his dry personality does not allow for that.

Akaashi throws all sorts of remarks your way but they're never hurtful. Bokuto is usually the victim for his quick witted jabs, but, when he says them to you they're just. Different. They're laced with affection and playfulness but his stoic face masks the true meaning behind his words. He keeps tabs on you in any way he can and Bokuto quickly catches on to this.

They don't have a proper discussion about the situation they're in. The two just come to a silent agreement that they will share you. They already know each other well and their trust cannot be shaken. Neither one is against sharing you with the other.

There are times when you are a fun trio of idiots, simply living life. You have dinner and goof off. Bokuto makes you laugh and Akaashi feeds you fresh food from the table. Bokuto has an iron clad grip on your waist while Akaashi blocks your exit. Despite the lighthearted atmosphere, there's a thick layer of tension in the air. They smile, but it's not reaching their eyes.

Could they be hiding something?

You are paranoid, you rationalize. What could these two clowns have something to hide?

Time passes, you're all still as thick as thieves. Bokuto has become a professional volleyball player and Akaashi became a manga editor. Due to his strict schedule, Bokuto can't see you as often as he'd like... Which is all day, every day. At least in highschool he had the excuse of classes but now?

He's got nothing!

That's where his good old pal Akaashi comes in.

He sends Bokuto photos daily. The duo have countless folders dedicated to you, all of which have different themes and aesthetics. Akasshi sneaks in as many as he can and you won't ever catch him in the act.

He has years of experience snapping photos of you in every way imaginable. If you ever had the misfortune of looking into his computer files, he'd go to jail for life.

Despite their hectic schedules, both of them manage to keep a tight leash on you. Bokuto is quick to make work of anyone who has any sort of romantic inkling towards you, unless Akaashi tears into them first with his sharp tongue.

Neither option is safe. If you're on the receiving end of either, you will be left in a puddle of your own tears. Perhaps even blood.

You cry and complain to them - why have all your friends left you? Was there something wrong with you? Why was no one looking at you, what sort of defect did you have?

Akaashi's shirt is soaked in your bitter tears as he has his hands on your shoulders while Bokuto sits behind you, his chest pressed straight against your back. He is doing everything he can to not pounce on you right there and then but he knows better - patience is key. Pity he lacks that quality.

Luckily for him though, Akaashi has it in spades.

And they sit there with you on the sofa, the soft pitter patter of the rain hitting the window as you sob your heart out towards your two closest friends, oblivious to all of the things that they have done. You don't know how many people Bokuto had to beat up in order to get you where you are. You don't know how many people Akaashi had to scare the living crap out of in order to have you in his arms.

Bokuto gently blows in your ear, most likely in a teasing manner. You look up and in your shaky gaze are met with Akaashi's hungry stare, his dark eyes boring so deep into your own that you feel as though he could swallow you whole. A pair of powerful arms wrap themselves around your waist, securing you in place as Bokuto places his lips on your neck. He nibbles on the soft flesh as Akaashi leans in and steals the kiss he had dreamed about all those years ago.

Finally, they have you. No one is coming for you, they made sure of it. You don't need anyone anymore. They are your world from this point onwards.

[taesanluv3r]

lost in love songs.

han taesan x reader

a short, three part, friends to lovers story.

ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.

part three: can't help falling in love.

confessions, first kisses, so much cuteness my heart swells. lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy <3

wc: 4,019

masterlist 𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i need to talk to you"

taesan couldn't sleep at all, her words just circling around and around in his head all night long. the five letter text message written in big bold letters playing in his mind every single time he so much as even tried to shut his eyes. he lies awake, sighing when his eight o' clock alarm rings through his ears. he was going to confess to her today. he had to. it was the only way he or his friend could get any sort of closure, whether he liked it or not. their meeting time was still in another two hours. the boy grabs his phone, instinctively going to check the messages, her messages.

last active 6.45am

seems she couldn't sleep either, though neither of the friends contacted each other while they were awake. no exchange of words, unlike the way they usually did. taesan's stomach hurts, he's restless and he just can't seem to lie still. he gets off of his bed, walking around his room once, then twice, and then a third time before resorting to sitting on the chair near his desk. with a light tap of his finger, the laptop in front of him turns on, a slight buzzing sound from the gears within the device that began to work. his reflection on the screen disappears when the tabs he had opened the night prior appeared before him. the boy's eyes glimmer slightly at the sight of his music folder, countless of demos and drafts scattered in a somewhat organized manner in the little blue folder. his finger slides against the silver track-pad, the air conditioning right by his desk making the surface cool to touch. taesan bites his lips as he clicks, a collection of his unfinished originals popping up above all the other opened tabs.

the boy sighs again, a hand roughly stroking through his bed-ridden hair as his eyes make contact with two songs in particular. those were the same songs he had downloaded onto his ipod the other day, the one that was now in the hands of his best-friend who he had in his mind throughout the whole writing process. taesan curses at himself, regretting ever even making such stupid songs. but it's all her fault, he thought, if she weren't so...her, maybe he wouldn't keep writing these love songs. he scrolls down in frustration, eyes following his cursor as they go through about a dozen more songs about her. a dozen more songs she didn't need to know about, the songs he once swore she'd never see.

the boy's finger moves up again, back to the very top two tracks in the folder. he let's out a deep breath before pressing down, allowing his own music to flow through the air. an unfinished song,

can't help falling in love.

taesan's eyes shut closed, his back leaning softly against his chair and he immerses himself in the tune. soft piano fills his ears, his eyebrows knitting together when he hears his own voice. just like the other song, this one shared that same honey-like feeling. it was very unlike the usually upbeat and, as his friend would call it, emo sound that he typically produced. for some reason though, it was somewhat more...authentic. like despite his edgy exterior the boy was just born to write these cheesy songs that he swore weren't 'his vibe'. he hums along quietly to the lyrics, not wanting to wake the rest of his family that were very much still asleep at such an hour like this on a saturday morning.

her eyes shine like diamonds, her lips stained pink like rose quartz. she speaks so loud with confidence, yeah i envy her voice like sweets of sorts. and i just can't shake this feeling, and i just don't know what's wrong. when she looks at me i'm melting, elvis was right cause i can't help falling in love.

the sound of the lyrics he wrote himself makes him sick for a second, his eyes opening and his body darting forward to hit pause. the tune abruptly stops, his heavy breathing all too loud when silence engulfs the atmosphere. taesan is tense, the sudden reality of the situation he was in had become too real, too much for his liking. the boy blinks in long intervals, his teeth clawing at his bottom lip and his hands that were pressed atop the table forming fists. the boy loses himself for a moment, his mind overflowing with every possible scenario, every kind of reaction this girl he had been so hung up on could've had to the feelings he poured out into his songs, this girl who was his only friend, this girl he might've of lost forever.

he stops himself from screaming at the top of his lungs, eyes glancing at the number on the top right corner of the screen. only one more hour to go. he decides its finally time to get ready. taesan takes a shower, washing his hair with the olive scented shampoo that his mom had bought for him on a sale the other day. he brushed his teeth, making eye contact with the mirror as he dried his hair. the boy spends the next thirty minutes trying on all of his clothes, almost throwing a tantrum and leaving the room in a mess when nothing seemed to feel right. by 9.35 he had decided on a black band tee, the faded smiley face logo of his favourite band contrasting perfectly with the dark wash of his denim jeans. he stares at himself in his floor-length mirror, his hands fidgeting in the air as he begins to rehearse every way the confession that awaits him with his best-friend could possibly go. the shy boy does this often, he finds it hard to speak with people and it makes him feel better to practice beforehand. however, he's never had to do this with her, she always made it easy for him to talk. so why now? why does he feel so nervous and...scared?

"and i just...i think you're cool and- no, i think you're pretty chill and- pretty chill? ugh! this is so stupid!" he groans, launching himself onto his bed and staring angrily at his ceiling. just then, the familiar notification sound of his phone grabs the boy's attention. taesan stretches an arm out towards it, his eyes lighting up and his body going back into sitting position as he reads the text from the girl who'd been running laps around his mind since last night.

yn meet you at the playground

the boy feels a cluster of butterflies in his lower abdomen, a small smile unconsciously making its way onto his lips at the mere thought of the pretty girl conversing with him.

i'll see you there

he shuts his phone off before she could respond, jumping off of the mattress and stumbling into his black leather shoes, all while simultaneously throwing on his coat and spritzing just enough of his signature perfume. he greets himself one last time in the mirror before he leaves, letting out a breath as he nodded to his reflection, so as to tell himself 'good luck'.

the boy was out the door now, not forgetting to bid his family goodbye leaving them to wonder what he was so jittery about. his feet trots over to the bus stop. the playground was closer to her place, almost an hour away from the boy if he were to get there on foot. his fingers tapped impatiently against the silver railing of the bench, no one else was there because no one else had plans so early on a weekend. five minutes go by and the blue vehicle finally comes to a stop in front of him, the automatic door sliding opened as he stepped into the bus. "where you off to this early on a saturday, kid?" asked the old man who had both hands on the steering wheel. "going to tell her the truth" the man chuckles at the boy's mysterious response, watching from the rear-view mirror as he slumped himself onto one of the seats. taesan watches as the trees go by, his eyes wandering over to the people on walks, the children on their tiny bikes, and the couples sharing a morning cup of coffee. the boy reaches into his pocket in search of his music player, lips pursing into a straight line when he remembers its whereabouts. he didn't even have his earphones with him, he couldn't listen to music on his phone even he wanted to! and no music meant no distractions, nothing to focus on apart from his own thoughts he began to get lost in once again.

at last, the bus arrives at his stop. taesan gets up from his seat, a hand gripping onto the yellow handle near the door as he begins to get off. "hey kid" the old man's voice stops him. "huh?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked up in curiosity. "good luck with that girl, rooting for you" the driver's encouraging words paired with a warm smile gave the otherwise nervous wreck of a boy somewhat of a confidence boost. he shoots the man a smile in return, thanking him before hopping out the door. a new sense of security as he strides towards the gated entrance of the park. he walks with his head down, eyes focusing on the way his thick shoes created indents against the grass. he only looks up when his feet reaches the familiar cobblestone that surrounded the playground.

he holds his breath for a moment and his heart rate went up by tenfold. there she was. in the rather empty area, the only other sound apart from the pumping in his chest was the breeze. a smooth blow of wind that cascaded through her hair, causing the swing in which she sat to sway slowly. his gaze lingered for a moment, staring longingly at his best-friend, myung yn. a harsh gush of wind swept the boy off of his feet, sending his body to move forward all of a sudden. the noise that escaped his mouth causing the girl on the swing to turn around and face him. the two stood like that for a while, not uttering a word and just staring at each other from a distance. yn was the first to look away, her head tilting towards the direction of the other swing beside hers, inviting the boy to come and take a seat. taesan takes painfully slow steps before finally making it to the empty swing, the old steel bar from which it hung on creaking a little at the pressure of his weight. still, neither of them spoke a word. her eyes fixed onto the two little birds a couple feet away from them, and his own ones focused right onto her.

"yn..." he begins, though his voice is a lot deeper than usual. taesan wants to tell her everything, just the way he had planned, he had so much to say and yet for some reason all of those things just wouldn't- no, they just couldn't come out. "here" his eyes widen when she speaks, the boy's gaze falling onto her hand that appeared in front of him. his ipod nano in it, and his worn-out earphones de-tangled and wrapped neatly around the device. "oh" is all he managed to muster out, his own hand reaching over to retrieve it. taesan's touch lingers against her skin, sending a wave of goosebumps to decorate her body. it's silent all over again. minus the chirping of song birds and the rustling of dying leaves as they shed onto the green grass. the boy zones out, trying to find the right sentences to say. he's distracted by the thoughts running through his brain, perplexed when they all began to fade away at the sound of soft humming coming from the girl to his left.

the tune is familiar, though he can't seem to pinpoint where he's heard it before. "that song has been stuck in my head all night, i couldn't sleep" yn began, her voice still raspy from the lack of rest. she still doesn't make eye contact though, continuing to hum as she rocked slightly on the swing. "you write so well"

that's when it all clicked in his head. the song she had been humming, the same song he had made himself. the one about a girl, the one about her. yn's compliment registers in his brain, his head falling down to hide the way a pink shade appeared onto his pale cheeks, silently praying she couldn't hear the way his heart thumped beneath his shirt. "if only i could speak as well as i write" taesan finally talks, his voice making her turn to fully face him now. her eyes are big and a small smile pulled against the corners of her lips. "well, why don't you try? try to tell me about this girl" the way she asked him, like she hadn't a clue about the meaning of his songs, it comforted him a little. how could she be so...normal at a time like this?

he stutters, looking away from her as he opens his mouth to speak again. "well...she's the complete opposite of me and she makes me feel all weird and fuzzy inside and" - "you're always weird, but go on" yn chuckles, interrupting him jokingly. the sound of her laugh making him smile too. "and well, she's my best-friend- my only friend, but sometimes...i guess i just kind of wish we were more than that...i just don't want to ruin our friendship..." he trails off, his eyes getting watery all of a sudden; if you asked him why, he'd blame it on the breeze, but he knows that the real reason was the same one for his smile, the same on for his laugh, and the very same reason for his stupid little love songs.

taesan's body tenses up when he feels a cool touch of a hand tapped against his chin, his head being forced to lift up and to face her. to face yn who seemed to have also begun tearing up. "taesan..." she says, but her voice comes out hushed. her vision begins to blur and the boy panics, unsure of what to do. "yn..." now it was his turn to press his fingers against her jaw, bringing her glossy eyes up to look into his.

"i think i might like you more than a friend"

a gasp escapes her lips. she recognizes the line from his song, she knew since last night how he felt, but for some reason she's still in shock. it was as though the night before had just been some sort of wild dream and it was now coming to life. taesan stares deeply into her eyes, analyzing the way her breathing slowed down and her eyebrows relaxed. "i..." she begins, her warm breath that smelled of coffee blowing against his nose. the boy waits patiently in anticipation, a look of hope and worry washing over his complexion.

"i think i like you too"

a single tear falls out of his eye, a sight she had never seen before. for the boy she had known all of these years never cried. yn blinks, tears of her own threatening to follow suit. his hand moves to caress her cheek, wiping away the wetness that stained it. she giggles softly, finding his touch ticklish. he copies her, breaking into a smile as he sniffles lightly, wiping away his own tear-stained face.

the confession was a lot quicker and a lot more anticlimactic than they had thought or anticipated. the pair simmering down into another moment of silence as they swung softly with the air, the cool breeze blowing against the tiny hairs on their bodies. "so...you listened to the songs, then? i mean...obviously you did" the boy breaks away from the peace, his gaze moving towards the ipod on his lap. she nods, blushing at the memory of his love song. "only the first one" yn says, her voice fading out softly. "good" now she turned to face him, head tilted to the side as she did so. "the other one isn't done yet...and it's way more embarrassing than the first one" his voice is back to normal now, the jittery-ness in his previous tone long gone. "will you show me when it's done then?" she asked, watching as he raided his brain in search for an answer. "or maybe..."

yn gets off of her swing, turning around on her heels to stand right across the boy who remained seated. taesan looks up at her confused, not a clue as to what she was going to tell him next. "maybe you could write me a new one!" she speaks brightly, "one about how the girl of your dreams, me, became the girl of your reality" she's prideful, her head facing the blue sky as she spoke. "how 'bout that?" now she looked right at him, a hopeful look in her eyes contradicting the playful smirk on her lips. the boy can only stare blankly at her, eyebrows furrowing like she was speaking a language he didn't understand. yn rolls her eyes, waving a hand in circles over his face. "hello? earth to taesan?" he shakes out of his short trance, "huh?" the exchange of words gives the pair a feeling of deja vu. she smiles softly, "i just asked you to be my boyfriend and you totally zoned out...loser" taesan tilts his head to the side.

"you...me...boyfriend..huh?!"

she laughs out loud, grabbing onto his hands and lifting him off of the creaky swing. "you, han taesan. me, myung yn. boyfriend and girlfriend" she repeats for the third time, in simpler words for his brain to digest. this time, instead of just staring at her like a confused cat, the boy grins. "wait, wait so we can be like...together now?" she groans at his question, "taesan, if you make me repeat myself again i'll toss that stupid ipod into the fish pond!" he laughs when she compains, his eyes scanning every inch of her features. the way her eyebrows twitched when she spoke, the way her eyelashes fluttered with the wind, the way her nose scrunched up and the way her pretty pink lips sat in a pout towards the bottom of her face. he must've been staring at them for a while, the girl's pout flipping into a little smirk. "what's up?" she asks, his attention returning to her eyes. "nothing...can...can i..." he never finishes the sentence, but the way his lips were parted and the way his breathing got heavier, she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

yn takes a step forward, diminishing any amount of space they had between them before. the familiar feeling of her cold fingers sent a shiver down his spine as both her hands moved up to cup his face. taesan is frozen still, letting the girl make all of the moves for him. she inhales softly before pulling him down towards her, finally coming in contact with one another. the atmosphere is stiff, the strawberry scent of her chapstick melting into his rather dry lips. the kiss lasts no longer than a second, the girl pulling away to stare in his loving eyes. regaining the consciousness that seemed to have left his body a minute ago, the boy's arms moved to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his grasp and their lips caught against each other's once more. this time, the kiss was natural and passionate. yn's arms sat around his neck, her fingers twirling against the ends of his freshly washed hair. their heads tilted in opposite directions, noses bumping as they got lost in each other's faces. slowly becoming messier and desperate as time went by. feeling a little lightheaded, the pair separate, gasping for air. his hands still placed on her hips, hers are now on his shoulders and they stopped to sink into the moment.

the air around them was warm, differing from the cool breeze that had surrounded them earlier. before long, yn's cheeks began to redden, the same shade becoming apparent on the tips of the boy's ears. avoiding eye contact, they looked away in unison, flustered giggles escaping their mouths the same way little children did when they were happy. taesan smiles brightly at her, and the girl reciprocates, the corners of her mouth dipping into little dimples against her skin.

"walk me home?" she asks suddenly, starting up conversation again. he nods, extending a hand out for her to grab before they began walking through the grass and out of the gated park. their walk was unusually quiet, but there was some sort of a comforting feeling that floated over them, hands remained intertwined the whole time, constantly stealing glances and blushing away awkwardly whenever their eyes met.

soon, they arrived at the entrance of her complex. taesan looks down at her for a moment, a hand scratching against the back of his neck that began to feel itchy. yn lets out a sigh, a frown appearing against her face. he looks at her with worried eyes, "what...what's wrong?" he stutters, though she only lets out another breath. "nothing. it's just that if i go home now, jaehyun is gonna bully me relentless about this whole thing!" the boy closes his eyes in relief, "oh, i thought something was seriously wrong-ow!" he exclaims, rubbing his forearm she just hit. "it is something seriously wrong! as my boyfriend you should be just as upset as me!!" taesan freezes at the term, a sense of shyness wrapping around his body the same way his weighted blanket did at night. yn is just as flustered, not expecting herself to say that, her attention moving to stare intently at the asphalt on the ground.

"well, as your boyfriend, what should i do then?"

his hands find home beneath her chin, lifting her pretty face up to look at him again. he looked handsome. i mean, she knew he was good looking this whole time but she swears he had never looked this...lovely before. his soft hair lazily falling against his shining eyes, his tall nose harmoniously balanced with his lips that wore a pretty smirk. "you know if you just keep staring and not giving me an answer i won't know what to do, yn" he rolls his eyes playfully, failing to hold back his laugh as he watched the ever so confident myung yn struggle with her words for what feels like the very first time ever. "i...i mean you...you should- um..." han taesan bends down slightly, pressing a spontaneous kiss against her cheek, their faces far too close and their noses almost touching.

"why don't you come over to mine? i'll show you all the other songs i wrote for you" her eyes widen at his words, "other songs? you mean you wrote MORE songs about me?!" taesan nods, his teeth showing when he smiles this time and the dimples below his eyes forming whisker-like shapes against his cheeks. "who knew emo loser taesan was such a love-sick derp" her sudden insult catches him off guard, a scoff escaping his mouth as he wraps an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her close as they cross the street.

"and who's fault is that?" he asks, the right side of his face pressed against her hair. "whats that supposed to mean? it's not my fault you fell in love with someone as great and amazing as me!" she rolls her eyes, leaning onto the side of his chest as they walked in the opposite direction of her neighbourhood and towards the bus stop. taesan laughs, "well that's just it! when you're so great and amazing like that, i guess i just..." yn looks up at him, interested in what her boyfriend was going to say next.

"i just...can't help falling in love"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

i want an emo love-sick derpy taesan ☹️ this is the end of my short series <3 i hope u guys liked it!!! and liked the lyrics i wrote for this and the last part too hehehehe 🙂‍↕️ reblogs n feedbacks are always appreciated!!!! tysm for reading, lmk what u thought 🧸 love, kona :3

[200markies]

Heyyy!! I love your work <3 Can you write a 'Mark is the type of boyfriend to...' and/or something about: idol!mark and reader as a regular person (full time job+college student) maybe with a little bit o angst since they are so different from each other etc?

　　　　mark ♡ is the type of boyfriend to ... ⁺

mark soft hours & headcanons. all are fictional.

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

genre: romance, fluff

requested by anon !

author's notes: i did NOT expect all of you guys to like the jeno headcanons so much to the point that an anon requested a mark ver which convinced me enough to make another one for the week 😭 y'all do indeed enjoy the headcanon series. anyway, to the anon who is reading this, i have to be honest with you but i genuinely enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this. PLEASE. this took me hours to write and i don't expect JUST the anon to like this but all of you too! i can't even say "i hope you enjoy" in the author's notes now that i'm expecting a thousand notifications on my activity tab in this platform.... 🤓

p.s. let us all thank mark lee for making the most boyfriend material instagram that could ever exist.... without r_e__m___ this headcanon wouldn't be BORN!

reminding all of u guys that my ask inbox is open so don't hesitate to drop a request or an ask !!!

mark is the type of boyfriend to write you poems whenever feels like it, or whenever it's a special occasion that's all about you. whether it be your birthday or your anniversary together, mark tries his absolute best to find all the words and combine it to make a poem that will surely make you happy. he wants to make you feel loved and safe with him, especially since he's your boyfriend.

"hey, beautiful, i left something on your desk," mark walks to you in the living room, sitting beside you while you work a deadline. you turn to him and chuckled, looking at your room which had a yellow folded note. you knew immediately that mark wrote a poem, and you can't wait to read it. you stand up to get the note on your desk, unfolding it to see an entire script of a poem which was all about how sweet your personality is. you walk back to mark, reading it while he lies his head on your shoulder to read a bit of what he wrote. "'you're so sweet that i can't stop coming back to you as if you're like candy, i take it, i'm the luckiest man in the world because of you, my fancy.'" you read the 3rd line in the 4th stanza, giving mark a little peck after you read it.

mark is the type of boyfriend to definitely rehearse being a husband to you. even though you two may not be ready yet or you can't bring yourselves to commit, he loves to do things a loyal husband would do. would you complain? no, because you loved it when mark would act that way. it's quite silly of him to do that, but trust me, you will need it when the both of you are married.

"good evening, future wifey," mark leans on your doorway while you're putting accessories to your outfit, looking at him once you heard his voice. tonight, mark is taking you out on a date, as part of his "husband rehearsals". he notices you're wearing the yves saint laurent dress mark gave you on your first anniversary, which made him smile and giggle. "looks like you're wearing your favorite dress on our date today, hm?" you nodded, giggling softly. "you truly love rehearsing your husband duties, it's silly." you say, walking to him as you put on your fur coat and kissed him on the lips. "it's not silly when you're gonna need more of me acting like this when we get married."

mark is the type of person who tends to stay with you almost every hour of the day. even when you don't need him, he's gonna be beside you until sunset, he can work with you, or he can cuddle, or he can comfort you while you work. (that's for later) he wants to keep you close to him no matter what, so that he could take care or help you whenever something happens. it's his obligation, and he's happy to take it.

"what... are you doing?" you look up at mark who's massaging your legs, confused and a little startled at the sensations he's giving you. he's right in front of you, trying his best to probably keep you soothed and comfortable while he has nothing to do for the day. you couldn't even make him leave because, you can admit, you loved this. "i know how tired you are after the gala you had with your friends, and i'm trying to soothe you so that you won't feel any more pain walking later. i know you love it, baby." he continues massaging you while you're working, making you giggle as you stared at him. "well, matter of fact... your massages are doing great work."

©️ 200markies / jyanihaes, 2024

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist 2

Mr. Always Wins, so far above me in every sense - Max takes another win, and a disappointed Lando leans on Y/N

I see you every day now - Flashback to April 2020 when Max and Y/N first moved in together

All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride - Max’s podcast goes live, and Max and Y/N attend a wedding. Later, Y/N admits her frustrations to Daniel

I think he can see through everything but my heart - Max and Y/N vacation in Brazil, and Max covers Time magazine

So many things that you wish I knew, so many walls up, I can’t break through - Y/N goes to Sao Paolo to see Lando while Max heads to the UK. Meanwhile, Max opens up to Vic

This is looking like a contest, of who can act like they care less - Y/N and Lando take Las Vegas while Max is back in Europe. But both Y/N and Max keep tabs on each other through others

I can see you standin’ honey, with his arms around your body - Y/N attends Velocity Invitational with Lando, which stirs controversy on both sides of the pond

I can see you starin’ honey, like he’s just your understudy - It’s Lando’s birthday. In Europe, Max streams with Redline

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing…like any true love, it drives you crazy - Clara and Max arrive in Vegas and Clara lets Lando in on a well known secret

I don’t even dare to wish it - It’s Y/N’s birthday, but she has to deal with the fallout of Clara’s drunken confession

I think he knows - Y/N and her friends celebrate her birthday, which seems to give something to celebrate…or run from

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch - The Vegas circus begins with a dramatic opening ceremony, followed by a gala event

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night - Y/N and Max continue to miss each other, and the weekend gets off to a chaotic start on track

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick - Y/N attends Martin’s set and has a vulnerable moment with Max that goes awry

I’m capitulated by you,baby, like a firework show - Max wins in Las Vegas and Y/N puts aside the awkwardness to be happy for him

And that was the moment I knew - Max hosts Y/N’s birthday party, and gives her a huge present with unexpected results

Nothing safe is worth the drive - Max and Y/N have an open and honest conversation

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - Max and Y/N leave Las Vegas just in time

Meet me in the afterglow - Y/N and Max spend a day in the desert and Lando puts the pieces together thanks to fruit

We’re burned for better - Mick makes an announcement, and the world once again speculates about Y/N’s love life

When they point to the pictures - Bonus part of Y/N sharing past memories

Our daddies used to joke about the two of us - Max and Y/N have dinner with their fathers after a nervous FP1 for Max

May these memories break our fall - Bonus part where Y/N shared memories near the end of the season

What would you do, if they never found us out? - Rumours swirl about Max and Y/N…for the final time

We will be remembered - And with that, the 2023 season comes to an end

✨There was one prize I’d cheat to win - Max and Emilia attend the Longines World Champions Tour✨

[cobragardens]

CORRECTED & UPDATED Clothes + Equivocation = Romance: The Husbands in 1793 (Part 2)

From Part 1:

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what the husbands communicate to each other without using words or actions to do it, and how their clothing choices help them do that.

Hello. I'm here and I know you're in a spot of trouble. I like you.

It's you! I'm so happy you're here!

Sheen's voice and face when Aziraphale says Crowley's name in this moment makes me think that Aziraphale is in love with Crowley--the demon Crowley, not the angel who became Crowley--long before he consciously realizes it in 1941. The way Sheen has Aziraphale say Crowley's name is so soft.

The way you're he way you're lounging there and what you're wearing are uncomfortably sexy and also incredibly inappropriate for the Bastille at this moment in history. I suppose this is very on-brand for you.

Crowley: I listen when you talk about your interests and goals and keep track of your general whereabouts and pursuits.

Either they've spoken with each other recently or Crowley has been keeping tabs on Aziraphale. Aziraphale isn't upset that Crowley knows what he's been up to, which suggests the former, which in turn suggests they're in semi-regular (every few years or decades) contact at this point.

Also we've now got a general idea for when Aziraphale opens his bookshop.

Okay, brief tangent while I point out two things here.

One, my favorite thing about Aziraphale is that he is a sensualist. This is libertine behavior, y'all. He 'popped across the Channel' during the Reign of Terror because he wanted a specific carnal experience of a specific really lovely food.

And two, even when Aziraphale does weird, frivolous, silly, ill-advised things like this, things that clearly baffle Crowley...Crowley never makes fun of him. He never laughs at him. He always has this look of disbelief on his face, like Am I hearing this?--

--but Crowley never, not once, shuts Aziraphale down.

Until Aziraphale asks him to go back to Heaven.

Anyway. Back to our scene.

Aziraphale: I am unwilling to abandon my sartorial sensibilities even when it threatens my corporation, and I am insane, so I think this is reasonable. At least I'm not wearing a Slutty Monarchist outfit.

You're happy to see me, aren't you. You're relieved to see a demon. Go on, say it.

Tennant's delivery of this line cracks me up. It is so gloating and flirtatious and smarmy and indulgent of Aziraphale.

I am very happy to see you and lucky you're here, and I am willing to say so sincerely even though you are gloating about it.

And then there's the exchange where Crowley very carefully doesn't answer Aziraphale's question about why Crowley's in the area but also reassures him that he didn't cause the French Revolution and Aziraphale can still like him.

We can't speak openly about this. It's dangerous for me.

Message received: I won't mention what you did again. But I want to show my gratitude and spend time with you; is it safe for us to get lunch together?

Yes, but one of us is going to have to change so we can walk the streets of Paris without getting arrested again, and I'm the one doing the rescuing here so it's not going to be me. Your 'standards' will have to take the hit.

Fine, you've got me over a barrel. But hey, if I have to wear the silly hat anyway I might as well go all the way and wear your colors. Except not monarchist. And not slutty.

Oh, I don't know, I thought you looked pretty slutty too. (Meaning 2) I'm having this guy killed for touching you, btw. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. I see you are having the guy who assaulted you killed in a copy of the clothes he would have killed you for wearing. I wholeheartedly approve of this (Meaning 3), your sexiness in those clothes notwithstanding. The utter insouciance of Crowley's little sniff and the inquiry about what they'll have for lunch drive home hard that Crowley could not be more unbothered by Aziraphale having the man who tried to harm him beheaded.

What really tickles me about this line is not only that Crowley's joke has three distinct meanings, but that Meaning 1 (the meaning that exists without reference to Crowley's clothes) is the opposite of Meaning 3--Anybody wearing clothes like that deserves what they get (Meaning 1) versus It rocks how you just killed someone who tried to kill you for wearing those clothes (Meaning 3)--and yet because of the clothes he's wearing, both meanings come through with perfect clarity, dependent only on whether the listener(s) can see his clothing and know its significance. Aziraphale can, and does, so he receives Crowley's real meaning. Hell/Heaven can't, and don't, so they just hear Meaning 1.

And then we get Aziraphale's pleased little smile and look of tranquil interest as he watches Jean-Claude dragged off to his death. Its such an interesting facial expression for an angel watching a demon have someone killed having someone killed, isn't it?

Crowley has just told him they're probably being listened to by Hell. That means Aziraphale, Crowley, and the audience all know this is the most Aziraphale can safely react. Aziraphale can't show any overt approval of anything an agent of Hell does, because by definition anything a demon does is demonic and angels must be against That Sort of Thing. In light of the fact that Aziraphale is the one who causes Jean-Claude's death, I now argue that this responsibility not to react too positively to something the other side has done falls on Crowley, and that the reason he makes this joke is primarily to tell Aziraphale I see what you've just done, and I like it without identifying aloud what exactly has just happened for their presumed eavesdroppers because an angel arranging a human's murder is the sort of thing in which head offices might take undue interest.

The awareness that their conversation is not private means the audience and Aziraphale know they need to be watching and listening for multiple meanings from Crowley, and it also means the audience and Crowley know we need to be watching Aziraphale's face closely right now. And that little smile shows us that Aziraphale has received Meanings 2 and 3 of "he was asking for trouble."

Or, at minimum, Meaning 3; even if Aziraphale picks up on Meaning 2--You looked really sexy in your vintage clothes, you crazy weirdo--that's not a message he can afford to react to at all. But he does react to the other coded communication Crowley is sending when he says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" while dressed for trouble himself: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. People who think your clothes give them the right to hurt you can go to Hell, and I am delighted you just sent one of them there.

You just had someone beheaded for assaulting me, I acknowledge and am pleased by your delight at my cleverness. and I could not be happier. Would you like to come enjoy one of my very favorite sensual pleasures with me?

***

EDIT: To be honest I like this reading better than my original, incorrect understanding of the story despite the fact that it is slightly less romantic, both because I love the idea of Crowley as a thirsty witness to Aziraphale quietly being a vengeful badass, because it gives us a glimpse of something important about Aziraphale's character that we don't get to see elsewhere: Aziraphale doesn't have a problem with killing per se.

We learn from the business with the Antichrist that, like Crowley, Az. can't bring himself to kill children. We learn from his perturbation at the Flood and the Crucifixion that he doesn't hold with killing innocents. He gave away his flaming sword. But this scene establishes that Aziraphale will actively cause someone's death if he feels they deserve it. That seems like an important character note for him that may become relevant in Season 3 (feathers crossed that it happens).

And I think there's something else in there too, something about how Aziraphale kills Jean-Claude, not with outright violence but with a trick. One party thinks he's in control of the situation; with a wave of his hand, suddenly a turnip has turned into an inkwell an executioner has turned into the condemned--or at least it seems that way long enough to get the job done. It's a bait-and-switch, like stage magic, and it slots right in to the motif in Good Omens of sleight-of-hand, of characters wearing other characters' appearances (for more on this, see fan theories re: Maggie is possessed), of supplying false meanings to an audience to disguise the true actions going on behind the scenes.

[otaku0411]

A GLASS OF WHISKEY PLEASE?

SUMMARY: This takes place in LA, before the movie. You’re a bartender and you two meet and it might become a regular occurrence. *MIXED POV* *18+*

_______________________________________________

It’s another Friday night shift for you. Because of the nice sunny weather and the sports games that’s going on tonight, you have a good chance at making some money. You work a a fine casual dining restaurant as a bartender. The job is enough to be comfortable but not long term. When arriving at work, you greet your coworkers and begin prepping the bar.

Finishing up, you turn the TV to the MLB channel and see that the Dodgers and Yankees were playing. You let it play in the background, not knowing what is to come and soon you started getting customers.

It’s now 9:45 p.m. and the bar is PACKED! Middle aged men watching the game while drinking their beers, and guests conversing among each other. Despite all of the noise and some inconsiderate people, you were holding up well and just trying to make it through the night.

Eventually, you get everyone situated and things started to slow down. You got one more hour til closing and you’re relieved that it’s almost over.

I’m washing the glasses in the sink when I see a man sitting at the bar. I dry my hands off and go to take his order.

“How you doing sir, what can I get you started off with?” I asked him. He look at me and gave me a small smile. I was never one to be nervous around men, especially since being a bartender I dealt with the worse in men, but his aura and demeanor did something to me that even I couldn’t put into words.

“I’m fine, can you start me off with a whiskey meat and some wings please?” He answered, still holding that grin. I nodded “ID please?” He hands me his ID KENJI SATO, never heard of him. I handed his ID back and fixed his drink. Once I gave it to him, I commented, “I wouldn’t expect you to be a whiskey kind of guy.”

His thick eyebrows rise up with my comment. “What do you mean by that.” “I mean you’re a young and seemingly fit person. I would’ve just expected like a tequila or a beer kind of guy is all I’m saying.”

He chuckled at my answer. “If I’m being honest, I do prefer my beers. But after the day I’m having, only whiskey could make me feel better.” He sips on his drink.

“Well if you ever wan to talk about my day. I would be more than happy to hear. After all, a bartender is like part therapist.” I joked at the end. For a minute it look like he was considering it, but ultimately he declined. “No I don’t want to get into it. It’s Friday and everyone should be in a good mood. Plus I don’t like making pretty women upset with my problems.” He smirked as I could feel myself getting flustered. I quickly turned away from him before he could see my face.

I continue to tend to other customers but I glance at him whenever I get the opportunity. He seems to be focused on the TVs. I admire him a little more and see how well kept and attractive he is. His black compression shirt is complimenting his physique and he run through his hair every now and again. Of course, it’s Hollywood and there’s beautiful people everywhere but as corny as it sounds he’s different.

I go back to him to check up on how’s he’s doing and offer another drink. “No thank I’m good. I’m ready for my tab please.” I print out his ticket and he asked “How much is it?” “Just $32 dollars. You just got a drink and appetizer.”

He takes out a fifty and a twenty. “Keep the rest. I had a good time. When you work if you don’t mind me asking?” I was a little taken aback from his questions. I never give out my work schedules because of creeps and stories I hear. However there’s a first time for many.

“Well I obviously work Friday night and Saturday night. If you want to see me, you’ll have to come here every night to see for yourself.” I smirked. Most guys would just say fuck you! But his guy, he smirked back and came forward to in my ears “Challenge accepted.” He whispered. “I’ll see you next week then.” He walked off but before he did, he looked back and gave me a final smile.

By the time he left, it was ready to close. As I’m cleaning up my station, my coworker comes up to me and shrieked. “OMG! YOURE SO LUCKY! YOU GOT TO SERVE KENJI SATO!!” I look at her confused not knowing what the heck she’s talking about. “Yeah, what about him?” I asked. She look at me dumbfounded “KENJI SATO! The baseball who plays for the Dodgers.” She pull up her phone and my mouth dropped when I saw who was on her screen.

How tf can I be so dumb. It all makes sense now. His Jacket, the muscle, his attractive face. I get celebrities and influencers often time, but rarely do I get athletes.Especially now that he’s going to be a regular of mine.

“Well this job just got a lot more interesting.”

_______________________________________________

A/N: HEYY YALL! Thank you so much for reading this story! It’s the first fanfics I’ve written in years😭 So if I make any mistakes, please tell me.

But I’ve been fixated on this man for a week now, which is why I’m writing this story. I hope you enjoy this story.

Also this will be a three part story. I am already halfway done with part two so it’ll be released by tomorrow🌸!

‼️‼️UPDATE: PART TWO IS OUT, ITS PINNED ON MY PAGE‼️‼️