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ozzgin · 9 months ago

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Hello!

🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.

Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?

I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?

The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.

Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually

Sincerely

-🌟

Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;

Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)

Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.

“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.

“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”

“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.

The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.

The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.

“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.

You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.

You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.

And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.

This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.

“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”

You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.

“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.

“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.

“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.

Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.

Unfortunately, there is no time for that.

The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.

The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.

“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.

“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”

He stares in confusion.

“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.

“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”

Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.

“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”

He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.

“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.

This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.

“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”

What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.

“Sure. I know a better place, though.”

Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.

“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”

“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”

“Excuse me?”

Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.

“H-hey, what did you mean-”

The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.

You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.

“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.

The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.

“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.

Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.

“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”

Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.

Your bodyguard truly knows you best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic #yandere male #obsessive love #female reader

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surielstea · 2 months ago

Text

Wedding Crasher

Based on this request.

Paring: Azriel x Fem!Reader (mates)

Summary: Reader is forced into an arranged marriage, and when the day of union comes it is interrupted by two familiar Illyrian warriors.

Warnings: Toxic relationship with parents | forced marriage | Azriel threatens a life | but pretty much all fluff <33

2.4k words.

My white dress hung heavy on my shoulders, my corset too tight, my heels already making my feet ache.

The plastered smile on my face hurt my cheeks, and the thorns in my bouquet prickled my sweaty palms. I released a shaky breath as the music of the string quartet began to play, an unmistakable tune meant for happy brides ready to walk down the aisle.

Which is what I was supposed to be, happy, ready. Heads turned in my direction and my back straightened, my brows creasing the slightest fraction.

My husband-to-be waited at the end of the walkway, his smile broad and malicious. My stomach churned.

I didn't want to be here, here on this beach getting married to some guy twenty years older all for an alliance my parents forced me into. My self-sovereignty for what? For a few pieces of gold and a minor title?

I took a steadying breath and began walking forward, keeping in rhythm to the strum of the music. The groom reached his hand out towards me, my own shook as I took it and he pulled me the rest of the way to the altar.

The officiant began the reading from his script, and with it, my ears began to ring, I tuned the priest out and my eyes fluttered closed. My fiancé's hands squeezed mine, not in a comforting manner, but a warning. I snapped my head up and looked at the officiant, I blinked at him with creased brows.

"Do you, take Rhen Talor to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do you part?" He repeated each word adding another pound of weight to my shoulders.

"I—" I look between the oblivious officiant and the groom, Rhen, to my parents who were watching with narrowed eyes. "I..." I wanted to say yes, I was going to say yes, but the pounding in my heart could be heard in my ears and I got the sneaking suspicion that I was about to vomit all over my white gown.

An unnatural wind blew my hair back as if nature itself was beckoning me to step away, to run.

I looked in the direction of the wind, my hands slipping from Rhen's as I spotted two towering, familiar winged figures in the distance and I realized the pounding in my ears was the beat of their wings.

The crowd murmurs at the intrusion as the two Illyrians casually stroll towards us, arrogance and power in each step.

"Excuse me for a moment," I say, gathering my skirts in my hands and rushing over to the two males as fast as I can in my heels that seemed determined to get stuck in the sand.

"What in the seven hells are you two doing here?" I seethe, looking at the fae warriors who were smiling at me with wicked amusement. Some part of me relaxed to feel anything besides fear and nausea, even if it was anger taking over.

"We're here to save you, what else?" The shadow singer arches a brow, dark shadows swirling up the pure white of my dress.

"I don't need anyone's saving, especially not two Carynthian warriors," I argue and Cassian snorts, taking in my appearance.

"I only came along because Az promised there'd be a buffet," The lord of bloodshed shrugged.

"Not for— this is wildly inappropriate, even for the two of you." I groaned but Cassian only continued walking, towards the guests that were scrambling away from the sight of his seven siphons. Leaving me and Azriel, our words drowned out by the crashing of the waves.

"You're too late. I already said I do," I cross my arms over my chest.

"Liar," He narrows his hazel eyes on me. "You know better than to try and fool me, Love, I could feel you tugging at the bond, you were in distress," Azriel took a dangerous step forward and I sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of the bond, not accepted but not rejected either. A bridge between us that I both refused to sever and to walk across.

H grabbed my hand that was prickled with the thorns of my bouquet, shadows soothed over my palm, relieving the sting of my minor wounds. "You shouldn't be here," I frowned but his smile remained.

"No, probably not, but I can't let you marry him," He said, his voice brooking no room for argument, ever the cool and collected male.

“Go home, Azriel,” I speak quietly, but not weakly.

“Come with me.” He matches my tone, his scarred fingers intertwining with my manicured ones and the sensation was so different than the feeling of Rhen’s grip. "Why did your parents arrange this? What are they gaining from this union?" He asked, voice slightly stiff at the idea of selling me off for their own personal achievement.

"Money, the Talor's have a small title and crop of land, it'd be enough to last us a few centuries,” I shrug. I loved my parents, despite their twisted and corrupt ways, I loved them because they fed and raised me, I loved them because they put clothes on my back and told me bedtime stories. I never assumed I’d have to pay them back, not this way, at least.

"I'll give you every cent to my name if that's the price of my mate's freedom, if money is what they want, they can take mine." The shadow singer stated, his words certain that it made me realize that I’ve never been as sure about anything as he was about this.

"I can't ask you to do that." I shake my head, slipping my fingers from his, knowing the lingering guests were watching.

"You don't have to, I want you to be happy, let me buy you then set you free." He implored, allowing my hand to fall to my side only because he moved to cup my cheek. "And if I'm lucky you'll fall in love with me along the way." He shrugged with a smirk of pure fae male arrogance.

"Az," I deadpan, the words half a growl.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking you not to marry him." His eyes flick back to the male watching with furious eyes from the archway. "If you tell me to I’ll leave, and you can walk down that aisle again— but let's not kid ourselves, you never wanted this, never wanted him,” His hand on my face made me melt slightly, and he was right, despite wanting to pay my mother and father back, this is nowhere near anything I wanted.

I swallowed thickly, weighing the options. If I married Rhen my parents would be happy and this would all be water under the bridge— but I’d suffer a life of being both a housewife and broodmare with a male who did not truly love me.

If I went with Azriel my parents would likely attempt to cleave us, unless Azriel paid them as he said he would, as long as gold was placed in their hands I doubted they’d have much argument— and I could be free to choose what I wanted with my life, I could accept my mating bond.

"But where will I go? What will I do?" I ask, my mind filled with questions that could only be answered by my future self.

"It's entirely up to you, you can live with me, or you can move to another court, whatever you choose. You'd be free." He stresses and my mouth gapes open, then closes. I look to the waves crashing against the shore only a few yards away, shouting at me to flee, to go with him.

All of it was too good to be true, Azriel coming to be my savior with this plan. It couldn’t be real and I needed him to punch me so I could wake up from this dream.

"Though I'd prefer if you stayed close, it's painful having you so far even right now— and you're only a city away, I can’t imagine a whole court,” He added and I looked back to him, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

"I haven't even accepted the bond yet and you're already desperate." I tease.

"Yet?" He arched a scarred brow.

I flush a soft hue and avert my eyes again, this time settling them on the approaching figure that formed a knot of anxiety in my stomach.

"You're out of line, get your hands off my bride you bastard." Rhen spat and I flinched at the way he cursed the word, Azriel didn’t so much as shift, in fact, I could’ve sworn there was a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Out of line? No, I'm exactly where I should be, you're the one that's in my way." The shadow singer smoothly replied, Rhen snarled at his retort and grabbed me just above my elbow, his grip as tight and immovable as iron.

"Don't touch me." I gritted out, tugging at my arm but he didn’t budge and simply pulled me back towards where the officiant stood, uneasy on his feet.

"Come on, be a good little wife, and finish the damned ceremony," Rhen growled, and before I could take even another step towards the archway my fiancé halted, freezing in his footsteps as shadows wrapped around his limbs, his neck, encasing his body and shoving into his open mouth, restricting him of oxygen.

"She told you not to touch her Talor, so I'd highly suggest you let go or you won't have a hand anymore." The Spy Master’s voice was death incarnate, I had never heard anything so paralyzing in all my immortal life. It chilled me down to my very bone, and I thought that I might be carrion if I was ever on the receiving end of my mate's deathly stare.

Rhen’s hand releases me if only to grasp at his own throat, silently pleading with his eyes to have mercy.

The shadows released him and Rhen was sent running, sprinting as fast as he could away from the male that stood before me, now looking at me with an incredulous grin. Insane, he must’ve been insane— and I must’ve been too, to be so in love with that smile and the dimples that came along with it.

"You were seriously going to marry him?” He scoffed, hand coming to my arm and inspecting the area Rhen held me for any injury.

"Well, it wasn't really my choice," I grumble under my breath as Azriel lets go of my arm with a gentleness that rivaled his vicious exterior that occurred only moments ago.

Azriel’s eyes flicked over to the few remaining guests and I turned in the direction he stared, at my parents who were staring with both helplessness and fury in their eyes.

"Me and Cass will deal with them later, let's get you out of here, alright?" He tugged at the tether between us and my head whips back to him.

“Okay,” I nod and reach out, my hand finding his. His eyes soften as he pulls me into him, wrapping a wing around me and cocooning us in darkness before he utilizes his shadows to pull us into another realm entirely, it was only a brief moment of darkness and an empty void before my heels were on a hardwood floor and the sweet citrusy smell of Velaris flowed through my nose.

"We left Cass," I say, glancing around to find the second Illyrian nowhere to be found.

"He was in the midst of stuffing his face with bread rolls, I think he'll be just fine." Azriel half scoffed, half chuckled. He pulled away but before he could completely slip from my grasp my hand tightened on his and his brows lifted a fraction, eyes lighting with intrigue.

"Thank you." Is all I can manage to say.

"Don't thank me." He shakes his head. "I should have gotten you out of there far sooner." He spoke as if he was more dissatisfied with himself than anyone else.

"But still, when it mattered you came for me," I utter, taking a cautious step forward.

"You're my mate, even if you haven't accepted the bond, it's my duty to keep you safe— you shouldn't have even been out of my sights," He says, his voice soft as he looks down at me, hand squeezing mine.

"I wasn't, not really." I hum, gesturing down to the shadow that swirled around my ankle, the one that would always remain there.

He smiles at the thought, then says, "You look beautiful, by the way." His eyes flick down to my white gown and I follow his gaze, smiling softly at the dress, it had been the only thing that was my decision in this entire endeavor.

"I only wish that it was your choice to put that dress on, this morning," He added, as if reading my mind, and for a moment I wondered if the mating bond allowed him to see how I felt.

"It will be, one day," I nod confidently and his brows raise with insinuation. A gentle smile blooms across my lips and I cup his sharp jaw. “But for now, baby steps,” I suggest rising up onto my toes, leaning closer, placing a kiss on his adjacent cheek.

When I pulled back he was beet red and I giggled at the sight, it was a wonder that this male, who flushed at a chaste peck on the cheek, was also one of the most feared in Prythian.

“Right,” he swallowed down the lump in his throat, his hand only a phantom at my waist, hovering. "I'll have money sent to your parents by Dawn." He says, then quickly adds, “Even if they don’t deserve it.”

I smile brightly and pull away. “Thank you, Az,” I murmur.

“Anything, for you.” He confessed, and I knew he meant it. I smiled, thinking that in the morning I might reward him with some breakfast, in turn, accepted that golden tether between us and finally allowed myself to be happy, with a mate.

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alisonsfics · 3 months ago

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date crasher

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: carmy and you have been broken up for years, but continued to be very good friends. that works fine until carmy hears that you have a date.

word count: 1.5k

“Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” Carmy asked you, leaning against the doorframe of the office. You shook your head, knowing he wasn’t done trying to convince you.

“Marcus is almost done making those donuts I was telling you about. They’re blueberry, your favorite. You’d love them.” He said, trying to persuade you. You frowned at him. “I just came to give you these. I can’t stay. I’m sorry.” You said, grabbing a bag out of your purse and handing it to him.

His fingers ghosted over yours as he accepted the bag. “You brought me muffins from my favorite bakery. Thank you. You’re the best.” He said, pulling you in to a side hug.

You both lingered, not wanting to pull away. Then, Richie appeared in the doorway. “Oh, hey, I didn’t know you were here.” Richie said, waving at you. You smiled back at him. “Hey, Richie. I was just about to leave.” You said, earning a frown from Carmy.

“Can I walk you out?” Carmy asked, resting his hand on the back on your arm. You nodded, smiling at him. “Bye, Richie, it was nice to see you.” You said, giving him a quick hug as you and Carmy walked past him.

You and Carmy silently walked to your car. His hand grazed against yours, causing your skin to tingle.

You got to your car and leaned backwards against the driver’s door. “Are you sure you have to leave? I miss you.” Carmy said, softly. You gave his hand a quick squeeze.

“Yeah, I gotta head back to my apartment to get ready—” You said. You tried to stop yourself from admitting too much. “Get ready for what?” Carmy asked, curiously. You crossed your arms and sighed.

“I have a date tonight.” You said, hesitantly. Carmy’s shock was written on his face. You and Carmy didn’t talk about your love lives. Your relationship was tricky enough being lovers turned exes turned friends, so you usually didn’t talk about dating.

“Oh,” he said, failing to mask his disappointment. He saw how nervous you looked. “No, I don’t mean it like that. That’s really great. I hope you have a good time.” He said. The lie wasn’t convincing.

“Thank you, Carm. We’ll talk later, okay?” You asked him. He quickly nodded and pulled you in to a hug. You got into your car and waved at Carmy as you drove away.

After Carmy got home, all he could think about you was going on a date. He knew that it was your business and he shouldn’t care, but he couldn’t help it.

He worried about you. He always wanted to keep you safe.

Every time he thought about it, he felt a twinge of jealousy. The thought of somebody putting their hands on you made him shudder.

You had just finished getting ready for your date. You adjusted your hair and slipped on your heels.

You heard a knock at your front door. You grabbed your purse and your phone and went towards the door. You opened your door, expecting your date. Instead, you were face to face with Carmy.

“Carmy, what’re you doing here?” You asked him, in shock. His eyes slowly ran down your body, admiring your outfit. “Wow,” he mumbled under his breath.

You felt your heart flutter a little as he watched you. Carmy always looked at you like you were a supermodel. “You look…amazing,” he said. He was almost speechless.

“Thank you, Carmy,” you said, bashfully. He reached out to grab your hand and spun you around in a circle.

“Carm, seriously. Why’re you here?” You asked him. Before he could answer you, you noticed someone walking up behind him.

It was your date.

“Oh, uh…hey,” your date said, glancing between you and Carmy.

“Oh, ummm Jonathon, this is my friend Carmy. Carmy, this is Jonathon, my date.” You said, introducing the both of them. Carmy clenched his jaw as he looked Jonathon up and down.

“Oh, your date tonight! I totally forgot. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to talk to you about something, but I don’t want to interrupt.” Carmy lied through his teeth. You glared at him, knowing he fully remembered your date.

You looked in between Carmy and Jonathon. “You two talk. I’ll go wait in the car when you’re ready.” Jonathon started to say. You quickly shook your head and grabbed his hand.

“No no, you’re okay. Carmy, we’ll talk tomorrow, okay? It’s not an emergency, right?” You asked him, firmly. You knew it was a tricky topic between the two of you, but you weren’t going to let Carmy sabotage your date.

You reached over and grabbed Jonathon’s hand. You watched Carmy’s grip tighten on his phone in his hand. He glared over at Jonathon. “I really need to talk to you.” Carmy said, urgently.

“I’ll give you both a minute.” Jonathon said, walking away. You crossed your arms as you faced Carmy.

“So, an emergency, huh? And you forgot about my date?” You asked him, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry. I really wasn’t trying to make you upset.” He quickly apologized when he realized you were annoyed. You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to explain.

“Please don’t go on this date.” He begged you. He reached out to grab your hands, but you stepped away from him. “Hold on, Carmy. What’re you talking about?” You asked.

“Can you please just do me this one favor?” Carmy asked you. You could see the desperation in his eyes. It was like his life depended on it.

“Why, Carmy? I need to know what you’re talking about.” You told him. Your mind was racing trying to figure out why Carmy didn’t want you to go on the date.

Carmy pushed his hair out of his face. He took a deep breath. “I have no right to try to stop you, I know that. But, I was thinking about you going on this date, and then it hit me. I still love you, and I shouldn’t drop this on you like this. But, you’re the only person I imagine myself with and the only person I want to spend time with.” He confessed, grabbing your hands.

You could feel your eyes go wide. It felt too good to be true. “Carm, this is…” you were at a loss for words.

“Crazy, I know, trust me,” he said, finishing your thought.

“We haven’t been together in five years, and you just want to jump back into this?” You asked him, still in shock.

Carmy shrugged. You leaned back against the wall, trying to process everything he was saying. “I don’t know. I just know when I hang out with you, I never want to leave. And I think about you all the time. And the thought you with another guy kills me.” He told you.

He searched your eyes for any clue as to how you were feeling. “Carmy, this is a lot to think about,” you hesitated. Carmy stepped back from you, realizing he was overwhelming you.

“I’m sorry to ambush you like this. You should go on your date, but just please think about it.” Carmy said, before turning to leave.

You fixed your hair and took a deep breath before going to find Jonathon.

Carmy sulked back to his apartment. After four hours had past, he knew it was too late for you two. He called Richie and ranted about the whole situation. Richie told him he’d come over right away.

Carmy tried to watch tv, but his mind lingered to thoughts of you. He’d lost you for the second time. Somehow, it hurt even worse than the first time. Now, he knew you were really gone.

He heard a knock at the door and got up to answer it. He was relieved to have Richie to talk to. It was one of the only times Richie wasn’t arguing with Carmy.

Richie knew how much Carmy loved you, even after all these years. So, he knew how devastated Carmy was.

Carmy opened the door, but he wasn’t looking at Richie.

You were standing in front of him. You were out of breath from running to Carmy’s apartment.

“Of course it’s always been you. I just needed time to think.” You exclaimed. The tension and stress left Carmy’s body. He leaped forward towards you. His hands grabbed your waist as he kissed you.

He ran his thumbs against the satin fabric of your dress. You wrapped your arms around Carmy’s neck. His lips moved quickly and desperately across yours.

You both had years to catch up on.

He softly nipped at your bottom lip. It’d been years, but he was already jumping back into old habits. You grinned against the kiss.

You never wanted to forget the way his curls felt in your fingers or the way he always tasted like a mix of spearmint and cigarettes.

“Looks like I don’t need to cheer you up,” you both heard someone say at the end of the hallway.

You both quickly pulled apart. With his arms around your waist, Carmy pulled you behind him, protecting you.

You both realized it was Richie.

“I’m glad you both pulled your heads out of your asses.” Richie said, chuckling.

“Yeah, me too.” You said, wrapping your arm around Carmy’s shoulders and kissing his cheek.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fic

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skylersolomonofficial · 8 months ago

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Doctor Shoelace

Secret Identity: Lateefah Strickland

She has a Gift that can heal people. She made it her goal in life to heal people whenever they were sick or hurt. Her Gift has its limits, she can't heal terminal illnesses or regrow missing limbs, but she can help slow down a person's death with a terminal illness. However, there's also a darker side of her Gift. If she ever wants to, Doctor Shoelace can give someone a terminal illness or hurt them pretty badly. However, she rarely does

Doctor Shoelace helped Mikey build The Hero Crew from the ground up as she was one of the first ever members. She followed him from California to Washington to help him establish The Hero Crew outside of California. After his death, she helped Joshua lead the team

She was not very happy at first that a thirteen year old is taking over, but Doctor Shoelace understands that that is what he wanted to do and needed to help him feel closer to his late father. Doctor Shoelace took him and his adoptive sister, Tivona, in so he could have a safe place to stay. She never would replace their mother, but she loved being in their lives as they had become like a niece and a nephew to her

Shoelace has a very kind and gentle personality. She loves to help people and is so proud of her teammates in the strives they've made to help people. However, she is someone who you want to be on her bad side of. She is fiercely loyal and doesn't want anyone to get hurt. If someone she loved gets seriously hurt and she knows who the person is and is able to get ahold of them alone, she'll use her darker side of her Gift

Doctor Shoelace has black and curly hair with colorful streaks in it. She has it styled in an afro. Her eyes are amber and glow blue when she is using her Gift more than to just heal a small wound. She has a very small and light freckles. Her skin is light brown. She loves to dress up and wear bright colors and bright makeup. She is 5'11, 6'0 when she is wearing her shoes

She is thirty-four years old, born on January 5th, 1986. She is the oldest person in The Hero Crew. She had just barely turned fourteen when she joined The Hero Crew twenty years ago. It was very hard for her when Mikey died, but she stayed strong for Joshua and Tivona

Fears: hurting innocent people, sharks, and singing in front of people

Likes: the stars, her friends/family, and the rainbow

Allergies: none

Doctor Shoelace is a transwoman (birth name is David) and straight. She is currently not seeing anyone, but she also isn't looking for anyone. She has no children of her own, but if she ever did, she would adopt over having biological children. People consider Doctor Shoelace as a safe space and an important pillar. She is always there when someone needs to vent or cry or yell

She is like a mother figure to James Fitzpatrick (The Examiner). Doctor Shoelace sees him as her own son and she absolutely adores him. While he is her favorite member of The Hero Crew, she does not treat him as such

#cyborg city #original book #doctor shoelace #writing #writers on tumblr #wave crasher #joshua smith #mikey smith #mother nature #tivona blum #lateefah strickland #the hero crew #james fitzpatrick #the examiner

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its-avalon-08 · 5 months ago

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Can you do a fluffy and angsty fic for Lando after Austria, his girl comforting him. I'm surprised there aren't more after what happened under the tags but the only ones that were there are smut, which I don't really want to read I want fluff and angst.

look at you now (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - tears, comfort, negative self talk

The silence in the McLaren motorhome was deafening. Lando slammed the door shut behind him, the force echoing through the sterile space. He could feel the sting of Zak Brown's disappointed gaze and the worried glances of the mechanics burning into his back. But all he saw was red. The vibrant blue and red of Verstappen's car that had stolen his dream away at the last corner.

He stormed into his living quarters, helmet flung across the room with a dull thud. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the already distorted reflection staring back at him from the mirror. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" he yelled, slamming his fists against the cool glass.

The sound of his own voice startled him, the raw anger morphing into a crushing wave of despair. This wasn't just any race. This one, at the heart of Austria, could have been his. He'd driven his heart out, pushing the McLaren to its limits, only to have it ripped away in a heartbeat.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open. Y/N, her normally cheerful face etched with concern, stepped inside. One look at Lando's hunched form, and her face crumpled in sympathy.

"Lando," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

He turned, the dam breaking. He fell onto the plush sofa, burying his face in his hands as choked sobs wracked his body. Y/N sat beside him, her arms wrapping around him in a silent embrace. She didn't try to talk, just let the storm rage within him.

Slowly, the intensity of his sobs subsided into shaky breaths. He finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. "I messed up, Y/N," he croaked, his voice thick with shame. "I had it. I had the win. And I threw it all away."

Y/N cupped his face, her touch sending a jolt of warmth through his chilled body. "Hey, no," she said gently, her gaze unwavering. "It wasn't your fault. These things happen."

His voice broke again. "But it could have been different. I should have been more careful, should have backed out. Now, Max extends his lead, and all the hard work..." He trailed off, unable to finish the crushing sentence.

"Lando," Y/N interrupted, her voice firm but laced with love. "Listen to me. You drove a phenomenal race. You were brilliant out there. Don't let one incident define you."

He shook his head, the self-loathing swirling inside him. "It's more than an incident, Y/N. It's my season, maybe even my championship dreams, going up in smoke. What if it was all for nothing? What if I'm just not good enough?"

His voice cracked on the last word, a raw vulnerability Y/N had rarely seen. She squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him. "No," she said fiercely. "Don't you dare say that. You are one of the most talented drivers on the grid. This doesn't change that."

He looked down at his trembling hands. "But what if I keep making these stupid mistakes? What if I'm just a glorified crasher?" The words were bitter on his tongue, fueled by the self-doubt gnawing at him.

Y/N's eyes widened. "Lando, stop it! You are not a crasher. You're a racer, a damn good one. This doesn't erase all the podiums, all the incredible races you've driven."

He let out a humorless scoff. "Yeah, a few podiums here and there. But a win? A championship? Maybe that's just a dream for someone else, someone who doesn't crack under pressure."

Y/N's heart clenched. She hated seeing him like this, tearing himself down. But she knew blind reassurances wouldn't work. She needed to reach the root of his despair.

"Lando," she said softly, "where is this coming from? This isn't the Lando I know, the one who fights tooth and nail for every position."

He met her gaze, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "Maybe I'm not that Lando anymore. Maybe I'm just a disappointment."

The pain in his voice was a knife twisting in her gut. But she knew this wasn't the time for coddling. He needed a reality check, a reminder of the racer he truly was.

y/n's pov

"Lando, listen to me," I said, my voice firm but laced with the fierce love I felt for him. I cupped his tear-streaked face, forcing him to look into my eyes. "This isn't some pit stop gone wrong, some tire strategy backfiring. This is you, deep down, and that man staring back at me is someone I barely recognize."

He flinched at my words, a flicker of hurt crossing his eyes. But I couldn't sugarcoat it. He needed a wake-up call, a reminder of the incredible person he was.

"This self-loathing, this tearing yourself down – that's not you. You're Lando Norris, the fearless racer who takes corners with the precision of a surgeon and the audacity of a daredevil. You're the one who leaves veterans speechless with your talent, the one who brings a smile to every engineer's face because you push the car to its limits and beyond."

I paused, letting my words sink in. His eyes were glistening, but a flicker of curiosity peeked through the storm of emotions.

"Yes, this race didn't go your way," I continued, my voice softening. "But that doesn't erase all the incredible moments, Lando. Remember Miami , the way you battled for the lead lap after lap? Or Sochi, that daring overtake on the last corner that stole the show? You don't define yourself by one mistake."

"But what if..." he started, his voice barely a whisper.

I cut him off gently. "There will be mistakes, Lando. That's part of racing, part of life. But you learn from them, you come back stronger. And that's exactly what you'll do. Because that's who you are. A fighter, a champion in the making."

Taking a deep breath, I shifted the focus. "And beyond the track, Lando? You're the one who lights up a room with your goofy grin, the one who donates his time to charities close to his heart. You're the one who surprises me with those ridiculous flower crowns and remembers the smallest details about my day. You're an amazing boyfriend, a kind soul, and that doesn't change just because of a DNF."

A single tear escaped his eye, but this time, it wasn't one of despair. It was a tear of understanding, a flicker of the Lando I knew and loved starting to shine through.

"You are so strong my love," I finished, my voice thick with emotion. "And stronger than any setback this sport can throw your way. Don't let one race define you. Remember who you are, the incredible racer, the amazing boyfriend, the extraordinary person I fell in love with."

end of y/n's pov

Y/N's words hung in the air, a balm to the storm raging inside Lando. He stared at her, the self-doubt slowly receding, replaced by a flicker of the fighting spirit she'd ignited. He wasn't a failure, and he wouldn't let this break him.

With a surge of determination, he cupped her face in his calloused hands. "You're right," he murmured, his voice raw but filled with newfound resolve. "I am Lando Norris. And I'm not done yet."

Before she could reply, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss of gratitude, of rediscovery, of a love that wouldn't be shaken. He poured his emotions into it, the frustration, the self-doubt, and the overwhelming love for the woman who held him together.

Y/N responded in kind, her kiss fierce and full of support. When they finally broke apart, both breathless, a shaky smile played on Lando's lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

Y/N squeezed his hand. "Always."

Settling back on the sofa, he pulled her close, his head resting on her chest. The familiar rise and fall of her breath soothed him, a calming rhythm against the chaos in his mind.

Y/N carded her fingers through his hair, a gesture that always brought him comfort. The soft strands tickled his scalp, sending a wave of relaxation washing over him. He closed his eyes, the sound of her gentle humming filling the space between them.

He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy. There would be more races, more challenges. But with Y/N by his side, he was ready to face them all. He would learn from his mistakes, come back stronger, and chase his dream with renewed determination. Because he wasn't just Lando Norris, the racer. He was Lando Norris, the man who loved and was loved in return, and that, he realized, was the greatest victory of all.

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froggibus · 5 months ago

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How about a pool day headcanons with Wally West?

Pool Party - Wally West

Genre: fluff/crack

Summary: how a pool day/night with your bf would go!

CW: established relationship, gn! reader, alcohol/drinking, brief mention of skin cancer, brief mention of drowning, Wally is a Dork™️

every time i get a Wally req 10 years is added to my life so thank you for this anon! hope you are having a great day (and summer!) i was way too excited to write this on my break also

this is part of our Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

THE MOST FUN EVER

even if he isn’t invited he WILL be there

he’s a huge party crasher ngl

brings so much booze for himself that people think it’s for the whole party (it’s not—just speedster metabolism)

he’ll share with you if you ask nicely tho

will throw you into the pool at least one (1) time

please pretend to drown just to make him feel like an asshole. please.

has dorky little aviator sunglasses so he can feel like a fighter pilot

he will be a lobster by the end of the day so PLEASE force him to wear sunscreen

“Pfft, babe, I don’t need that. I’m the Flash.”

“You can’t outrun skin cancer.”

however if YOU try to skip out on sunscreen he’ll literally force you to apply it

he will hold you down and rub it in for you or use his speed so you don’t notice

spends so much time in the pool that he’s practically waterlogged

literally only gets out to refill drinks or to shake water all over you like a dog

you’ll be minding your own business tanning or talking to your friends and your boyfriend comes over and drenches you like a golden retriever

has a dorky horse pool floaty that he named Bartholomew

would give his life for Bartholomew.

always knows when to refill your drink so you’ll always have a cocktail in your hand

he makes drinks STRONG (speedster metabolism)

like 99% alcohol, one spritz of juice STRONG

sometimes he forgets you do not share his insane tolerance and he will accidentally get you wasted

guards your drink when you go to the bathroom/in the pool and takes it SO seriously

even if he wears sunscreen he’s still gonna burn ngl (sorry to waste your time)

he WILL be a whiny baby about it for the two hours it takes for his burn to heal

if he gets drunk he will try to run across the water to show off

he WILL create a tidal wave so please do not let him

also tie his shoelaces together so he can’t drink and speed

he takes very good care of you when you’re drunk

secretly switches your drinks out for water and gaslights you about it

“What do you mean ‘watery’? I just tasted it and it’s super strong.”

no matter how late the party goes/early it ends, you will somehow be out till three am with him

every. single. time.

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | DC Masterlist

#wally west #wally west headcanons #wally west x reader #wally west x you #kid flash #kid flash x reader #kid flash Headcanons #the flash x reader #the flash x you #the flash #young Justice #young Justice headcanons #young justice x reader #young Justice x you #x reader #x you

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websterss · 2 years ago

Text

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR — ETHAN LANDRY

SUMMARY: You still have hard time dealing with the aftermath that occured in Amber’s house. You have the scars to prove it. The ever lasting nightmares that never seem to fade. You tried your best to cope with everything, yet you only knew how to do that with your good ole pal named alcohol.

WARNING(S): SPOILERS, alcohol consumption. cussing again. Fluff, Some angst, mentions of murder, blood, slight gore towards the end???

WORD COUNT: 4,838

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

The party was in full swing. The music blaring through the speakers set up in the living room. Classmates and crashers making a typical night club look like amateurs. Everyone was having a blast...including you.

“Badda-da-dah, badda-da-bah-bah. Coming out'cha mouth with'cha blah, blah, blah. Zip your lip like a padlock. And meet me in the back with the Jack at the jukebox. I don't really care where you live at. Just turn around boy, let me hit that.” You make a spanking dance motion. “Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat. Just show me where your di-” You began to sing, more like shout, but Ethan is more than perplexed on how you knew word for word.

“Okay!” Ethan placed his hand over your mouth, you muffled against his palm complaining. “Don’t know how you know all the words, but I think you’ve had enough.” He stares at you like you’ve grown two heads. He takes your red cup, taking a whiff of it, then immediately gagging. “What the hell is in this?” He leaned in closer so you’d be able to hear him. You pout, shrugging your shoulders as you start to groove to the music playing again.

“Something Anika whipped up...” You wave him off, trying to get the drink from his hands. You manage to do just that as you sneak in a sip. “I think she spiked it with vodka...” You slur off in thought. Ethan only gapes at you, taking the red cup back.

He looks around then spots a plant to your right. He reaches forward and chucks the drink on it.

“Hey!” You cry out watching your drink be wasted, and practically on its way to killing that poor plant.

“No more.” He gives a slow but firm shake of his head. “I’m gonna get you some water then I’m taking you back to your dorm.” He reaches forward and rubs your arms, up and down. You refuse to let him do so. Your lips downcast into a frown.

“What? No!” You fight against him, trying to remove his hands off you. “It’s not even twelve yet. The party’s still going...” You gesture to everyone around you. “I wanna stay…” You hiccup.

“I just think it’s better we get you home. You were swaying a bit there earlier.” He begins to convince you. “Besides, you were the one that told me to stop you when you steered off too much.” You meet his concerned eyes with a roll of yours. Of course you told him to watch over you. Yeah you had a habit of going off the rails, but you weren’t even close to blacking out, just slightly teetering towards being full on drunk.

“N-No.” You’re whole mood shifts. Your heart feels heavy, trying to find your friends amongst the bodies that were laughing and dancing. “Ethan, I’m not even tired.” You began to argue. He reaches for your hands again but you cross them over your chest. “I’m not tired. I need this.” You declare. “I’m fine-” You push past him only trip over your own feet. If he hadn’t reacted in time you would have fallen face first. Your breath shudders. Your eyes widening as Ethan's. He steadies you into an upright position again. Holding you by the waist as you sway in a place.

“What was that about being fine again?” He emits a faint laugh, but it falls into an unsettled smile.

“You’re such an ass!” You push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“Thought I was your knight in shining armor two hours ago...or did you already forget that you almost stepped into incoming traffic…” He raises his brows in question.

“You know…” You leaned in to whisper in his face. Ethan blinks rapidly as the smell of vodka fanned his face. He mouths a woah, before he gives you his undivided attention. “You’ve been making it a habit of saving me a lot. It’s odd. We barely met a few months back.”

“Well, maybe if you stopped putting yourself in life threatening situations…maybe I wouldn’t need to save you.”

“I’d hardly call- call getting shit faced. Life threatening!” You threw up quota fingers.

“You nearly just face planted!” He scoffs.

“Pish posh.” You groan. “I need another drink…” You pout as you look around trying to scope out Mindy or Chad to save you from Ethan’s hold.

“No, come on I’ll take you home.”

“No…” You squirm against his grip on your waist. “No, you have to check in with Mindy and Chad and Tara.” You gesture loosely to your friends who were nowhere in sight.

“I can shoot them a text.”

“No…Mindy!” You shout, causing Ethan to flinch. “Chad!” It didn’t take long till Chad came into view, Mindy coming up behind him.

“Hey, you okay?” He checks you over then looks at Ethan.

“Ethan wants to uh- wants to take me home, can he?” You swallow your saliva as you lean into his side for support. “D-Do we trust him…yes or no?” You hummed out a giggle.

“Nope.” Mindy rejects the idea immediately.

“Holy fuck you are shit faced.” Chad scoffs in disbelief. Then turns to Ethan.

“Mhmm.” You hummed with your eyes closed shut.

“How much has she had to drink?”

“I lost count after the fourth one she had.” He grimaces as he sets you down on the staircase. You sit with a pout. Chad kneels down in front of you, tapping your face gently as you start to doze off.

“Hey, none of that shit. How much have you had to drink?” He frowns.

“This many...” You hold up five fingers proudly. “Couple shots too, I think...”

“Five! How are you even functioning right now?” Chad exclaims, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, okay it’s time for bed princess.” He nods repeatedly. “I’m gonna introduce you to a friend of mine while we’re at it, yeah? His name’s H20, I want you to get familiar with him. Become real good pals. Ethan, get her two water bottles…” He ushers him towards the kitchen.

“Two?”

“Two, go!” He points him off.

“You have a friend named- H20?” You squint at Chad with confusion.

“And that’s how I know you’ve had too much to drink.”

“I thought you said you were gonna lay off tonight?” Mindy raises a brow at you.

“Oops.” Your eyes widen at her.

Ethan comes back rather quickly. He takes a seat next to you, uncapping one bottle for you then handing it over before making sure you have a good grip on it.

“What’s this…” You slur looking at the drink in your hand.

“It’s your best friend. Drink it!” Chad pushes your hand gently towards your face. Though the movement only makes you chuckle.

“You have a friend named H20.” You throw your head back. Ethan and Chad exchange a glance at each other with a sigh.

“Hey, shit face.” You look down at Chad loosely, your pupils dilated. “Ethan’s gonna take you home okay. You hear me?” He tilts his head to try and meet your eyes. “You can’t stay.” Chad shakes his head.

“Why do I need to go home?” You whine.

“Cause you’re fucking wasted.” Chad mocks you.

“So unfair...” You pout.

“You know what’s unfair. Having to look after your drunk ass every time we go to a party. Would it kill you to drink responsibly?”

“You deal with your trauma. I’ll deal with mine...With alcohol.” Your eyes follow a bottle a guy has and steal it from his hands as he passes by. The dude exclaims as you turn away from his glare. Yet before the alcohol can reach your watering mouth. It’s yanked out of your grip.

“Seriously?” Chad scolds you.

“One sip...” You pinch your fingers together.

“No, go home. Ethan's gonna make sure you get to your dorm okay.”

“I hate you, you know that. You’re such a fucking buzz kill.” You cross your arms.

“Love you too, stupid.” He leans in and pecks your temple, then lightly taps the side of your face. You’re startled awake again. He replaces your empty hand with that of one of the water bottles. “Here’s some H20, please get acquainted on your way to the door.” He gestures to the front entrance. He sighs, then looks to Ethan. “Please make sure she doesn’t return, and gets some actual rest.” Chad gives you a pointed look. Ethan and Chad coddle you, help you stand but you were having none of it.

“My heroes...” You smile sarcastically, then push past them, hands up by your face as you exclaim. “I can walk on my own dammit!”

“Oh, Miss Independent can walk now. What a fucking miracle!” Chad laughs as you push through the party to get to the front door.

“Fuck you Chad!” You flip him off.

“Look after her...please.” Chad’s shoulders slump. He runs a hand down his face. Hands at his hips as he watches you shove innocent bystanders aside. “Make sure she doesn’t try and kill anyone while you’re at it.”

“You think she’d kill someone?” Ethan’s eyes widened, perplexed as he watched someone fall at your hands.

“I wouldn’t put it past her...” Chad winces.

“Move dumbass!” You shove a guy to the ground.

“Go, go!” Chad pushes Ethan towards you.

“Yeah, yup!” Ethan’s foot slides, then hurries off after you.

“I still don’t trust him...” Mindy watches Ethan leave.

“You don’t trust anyone sis.”

Ethan was quite impressed by how fast you were moving in your heeled boots. Ten people knocked onto their asses and three shoves later you were nearing the campus. You had a good few feet in front of him as he continued running after you. He tried his best but he had a bad habit of being polite, helping everyone you pushed, only further increasing the distance between you and him. He had to hold you up early since you were off balance and could barely stand. However, now, you were walking perfectly fine in your three inch heeled boots. You were incredibly remarkable. “Y/n wait up!”

You eventually decided to let up and halt in place. Your arms crossed over your chest as you looked over your shoulder towards Ethan, who failed miserably to keep up with your pace. It felt like you were the one walking yourself home rather than Ethan, as opposed to Chad making him promise to look after you. Your relaxed features and bored demeanor made him shake his head as he tried to catch his breath.

“How are you upright?” He gave you an incredulous look.

“I’m just walking...” You shrug.

“You-” He swallowed down his saliva, hands on his knees. You rolled your eyes as he motioned to give him a second. You let your hands flop down to your sides. “You walk fast in those.” He reached down and patted your black boots.

“Yeah and?” You raise an eyebrow. “Ethan, how are you out of breath?” You gesture to his curled over form.

“I don’t know...” He heaves out. He stays this way for a minute till a water bottle is shoved in his face as he’s hunched over. He turns to look at your extended hand with the second water bottle. He shakes his head, denying the drink clearly meant for you.

“Take it!” You push your hand towards him again.

“No, it was for you. I’m okay.” He places his hands over his head to help him breathe easier.

“I always sober up with one Ethan...I’m pretty sure this one was meant for you.” You chuckle as he starts to put two and two together. He closes his eyes.

“He knew?” His chest rises and falls. “How could he have known?” He finds it hard to believe. He graciously takes the water and chugs in down, the remaining sips he splashes over his face.

“Cause it’s routine...” You give a small smile with a shrug. “It was usually Wes who did this sort of thing though. Walk me home and stuff. He couldn’t keep up either.” You chuckle as Ethan dried his face with the collar of his shirt.

“Wes…Is he the one that- Your-“ Ethan paused. The implication of whether he was the one who had died was clear. You nod to lessen his confusion.

“Yeah…” Your breathing gets shaky. “Look Ethan you’re gonna see a variety of versions of myself. Some nice, some stable, some ugly, some messy, and some right out stupid.” You gesture off behind him. “That was messy…This is messy.” You motion up and down at yourself. Your black thin flowy dress swivels with your movement. “I like to drink my problems away and I know it’s not a healthy way to deal with the shit that’s happened to me, but it frees me!” Your eyes begin to water. “It’s a bad escape, I know that because it could lead to so much worse than trying to sober me up. I tend to go overboard, and I know it’s not your responsibility, but I just want to say thank you. For stepping in and cutting me off…” Your voice trembles. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me, or save me from stupidly walking into oncoming traffic on accident. You shouldn’t have to…but you do. So thank you.”

Ethan’s heart clenches as a tear slips down your cheek. He didn’t know the full extent of how bad it really was for you. Surely the group gave brief examples of how you got, but letting yourself be vulnerable in front of him, had him rethinking his family's plans. You were hurting enough as it was, this would only had onto it. Despite losing his brother, now knowing how fucked up almost getting murdered messed you up, he wanted to do everything in his power to see you smile again. To take over Wes’s role in watching and taking care of you. You watched as he patted his pockets and dug into his front left one. White folded squares came into your view. Ethan stepped closer to hand them to you.

“I have tissues. Well, three tissues…” He let out with a nervous laugh. His smile grew as your face lit up. You scoff in disbelief, yet a smile remains plastered on your face.

“Of course you do…” You chide. You bring them up to your eyes to pat at your waterline. You do this a couple times until Ethan reaches forward to wipe a spot you missed. No smears or smudges from your mascara anymore as he caressed your cheek with his thumb gently. Your doe-like eyes soften as he lets his hand fall back down to his side. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He grins.

You hold your right arm with your left as your eyes wander. Catching sight of other students and adults passing by the two of you in the middle of the courtyard. All dressed in various recognizable outfits from some movies you liked. Though the only unrecognizable costume you couldn’t quite put your finger on was that of Ethan’s cardboard get up. Your eyes rake up and down him, then quickly look away when he catches you staring. He grows shy as he looks down at himself.

“What?”

“What?” You look back up at him, trying your best not to laugh at him.

“What was that look?” He nervously chuckles.

“What look? I wasn’t giving you a look.” You deny it.

“Yeah, you were. What is it? Do I have something on me or-”

“No, no, no it’s not that.” You put your hands out, stopping his fussing.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I uh-” You tilt your head, eyes furrowed as you take a step back to observe him. “What the fuck are you even supposed to be?” This time you can’t contain your fits of laughter.

“What?” His eyes widened. He looks down at himself again, then grabs hold of his helmet. “I’m uh- I’m a knight. I thought it was obvious...” He looks over his costume again.

“No kidding...” You tilt your head to the left this time. Hoping the change of angle would make his costume appear more flattering.

“I look stupid huh?” He takes the helmet off. Guilt eats you up as he tries to avoid your eyes. “You think I look stupid don’t you?”

“No, no....” You trail off trying to come up with something to say. Ethan waits patiently, but rolls his eyes, his arms flopping down to his sides at your lack of response.

“Great.” He nods.

“No, I promise. You don’t look, stupid. I just wasn’t sure what you were trying to be is all...” You step forward and touch his arms in reassurance. “It’s cute!” You offer a smile, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

“Wasn’t trying to look cute...” He picks the helmet up and kicks it a few feet away. You stare at him, jaw slacked in shock. You hurry over and pick up the helmet before anyone can crush it. The click of your heels causes him to look up at your approaching figure. You do your best to wipe off collecting dirt off the cardboard. You blow onto it and begin to fully inspect his creation. Apart from being cardboard made. His attention to detail was impressive. Your fingertips follow the outline of the carved out visor. Your smile grows as you take in the effort he put into his costume.

“When’d you make this?” You look up to meet his timid demeanor.

“Two days before the party...Chad didn’t exactly give me a heads up.” He chews on his bottom lip.

“Two days...” Your eyes grow in amazement. You look back down at the helmet in your hands. Your caress over the visor then turn to place his helmet back over his face. An impressed smirk over your features, as you turn it a slight bit so it was aligned properly. “There...The costume is complete again.” Ethan thinks you're gonna pull away but when you stay in place, your hands slide down to his chest. He hopes then and there you don’t hear the increase in his heartbeats.

“So you don’t-” He swallows down his saliva. “You don’t think my costume’s stupid?”

“I think that...if anyone fails to see the effort you put into it, then they won’t appreciate it as much as they should.”

“You appreciate it?” He mutters out softly.

“More so than pizza guy coming this way.” You beam at him, then turn your heads, watching a group of friends in full body slip on costumes. The hotdog man got to you. You and Ethan turn away to stifle your laughs.

“Thanks. Really, helps my confidence.” He nods in appreciation.

“Hey, you should be proud of this costume. You made it yourself.” You pat his cardboard chest armor. “There’s an actual thought process behind it...It’s sweet.”

“Yeah?” He narrows his brows at you with a faint smile.

“Yeah!”

“Well, then you’d be the first to think so...Harry Potter girl didn’t think so.” He emits a half hearted laugh. Your heart sinks for a second.

“A girl dressed as Harry Potter rejected you. In this get up?” You gawk at him in shock.

“Yeah, we don’t need to talk about it-” Ethan closes his eyes.

“Where is she?” You start looking around as a joke. Your stomach flutters hearing him chuckle at your antics. “I wanna have a word with her about her lack of taste in men. Dressed as Harry Potter...We do not claim her.” Ethan shakes his head, and nudges your arms to bring your focus back to him. You grow quiet from the close proximity of you two. You can’t help but mutter. “She should be ashamed...” Your eyes flicker to his lips then his eyes. Ethan seems to get your hint and starts to lean in slowly. You gather his hesitation and lean in the rest of the way to press your lips against his. For never having a girlfriend he wasn’t as bad a kisser as you thought he’d be. Ethan curls over a bit to deepen the kiss. His hands slowly sliding from holding your waist, to holding your neck, to cupping one side of your face. You let out a small gasp as he pulls away. You chase after his lips not wanting to break away just yet, even if your lungs burned. Ethan only continues to push you away slightly. The shake of his head causing you to open your eyes, a frown painting on your lips.

“You’ve been drinking, we shouldn’t. You’re not thinking straight...” He pressed his head against yours. The helmet creates a barrier between you, but it hardly bothers you. Your both breathless, chests rising and falling.

“M-My intentions are sober, Landry.” You try to lean in again, but Ethan is quite adamant on not further continuing the kiss you’ve shared. “Ethan?” Your shoulders slump.

“I want to!” He exclaims, he steps back and takes his helmet off. “Trust me I do...” He reassures you as you cross your arms over your chest. Feeling silly and embarrassed, but he stops your doubts. “Just not like this, okay? Not when you had a lot to drink.”

“I’m fine!” You laugh out in disbelief.

“You’re drunk.” He gestures to you. You uncross your arms, your mood shifting. “Let’s just get you home okay. Let me walk you to your dorm...” He extends his arm out to you. Palm opened and waiting. “Please...” He tilts his head a bit. He felt shitty enough that he stopped the kiss, but he didn’t want to do it this way. You were hesitant to take his hand, but Ethan sighs in relief when you place yours in his palm. He curls his hand around yours tightly, and walks you home in silence.

When you had opened the door to your room. You flipped on the lights and started removing your shoes. You looked around, your roommate wasn’t here, which felt odd to you, considering she herself wasn’t as much as a party person. You catch sight of a blue sticky note stuck to your desk lamp. It read. “Y/n gone out with a few friends 2nite, don’t wait up. P.s. I can’t find my room key...Great.” You read out loud. Throwing the note in the trash. “Guess, I’ll have to leave it open.” You say to yourself, but Ethan hears you.

Ethan stands by the door. His eyes shifted to the furthest end of the hallway nervously. Not that you had picked up on it. You remove your jewelry next, then turn to Ethan, who had refused to pass the threshold.

“You can come in. You don’t need to just stand there ya know.” You emit a faint laugh, eyes furrowed at his closed off body language. His hands stuffed in his pockets as he looks back into the hallway. You take notice of the rapid taps of his foot. “Ethan, you okay?”

“Mmm...Oh yeah, yeah!” He turns back to you. Nodding in reassurance. “I should head back anyway.” He gestures over his shoulder. You nod in solemn defeat. The walk was excruciatingly painful, but you figured that he did have a point not to kiss him while intoxicated. You disappear to the left of the room. The corner hiding you as you change. Ethan catches your witch costume flung onto your bed. He readjusts his stance, shaking his head to not let his inner thoughts take over. Yet he’s a guy, and guys are curious. He leans into the room, head tilted in hopes to catch a peek, but he’s startled back into place once you round the corner again, clad in pajamas. Well, it was really just a Blackmore University shirt, and short bottoms. Ethan’s eyes widened, growing flustered by your bare legs. He looks down as you approach him with a timid smile. It was quite a refreshing sight, to see all your armor come off. Like he finally had a glimpse at the real you. You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. He grows red, as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. He gives a faint laugh then stands tall. He taps the top of your doorway and begins to bid you a goodbye.

“Get some sleep okay, and definitely drink more water.” He informs you. You nod nonchalantly.

“I still need to take my makeup off...” You look into the hallway now. Remembering the bathroom was down the hallway. Essentially where Ethan was trying to avoid looking towards. “God I don’t want to but I need to.” You rub your eyes tiredly. “Anyway, thank you again.” You laugh. “You have truly been my knight in shining armor tonight...” You pat his chest again. “I had fun tonight and I’m sorry for the-'' You get cut off by his lips that leaned in and pressed against yours. He pulls back slowly, the kiss still lingering, and your mind barely processing. You scoff out in disbelief. “I thought you said-”

“I couldn’t leave without doing that.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” You promised. You lean in this time pressing a sweet kiss on him. He gets lost in the kiss and before he knows it you shove him further into the hall to the adjacent wall. His back hits it, his chest rising and falling. You hold off on wanting to pull him back inside your room, but you knew you shouldn’t. Ethan’s words echoing in your mind. “Get home safe, dork.” You smile at him, then slowly close the door. Your back pressed up against it as you raised your fingertips up to your lips. A giddy grin decorating your face now. Ethan composes himself and walks up to your door. He hesitates to knock, but does it anyway. You grow confused and go to open it, but yelp as it’s pulled shut. “What the fuck!” You exclaim, wide eyed. “E-Ethan?”

“Lock it!” He says through the door.

“What?”

“The door, lock it!”

“Wha-”

“Don’t leave it open tonight, lock it.”

“Ethan, you’re scaring me.” You go to pull it open again, but the grip on it has you growing nervous. He won’t let up on his grip.

“Just do it!” Once it hears the click of the lock, he lets go. “I gotta go!” He gulps nervously. “I’ll explain later okay, just keep it locked okay. I gotta go.” He gives a tap to the door and you see his shadow walk away underneath the door. You’re left standing there confused as fuck and scared. What the hell was that?

Ethan walked off in haste down the hallway. He kept looking behind him and when he finally rounded the corner where he saw a glimpse of black earlier, he gripped the robe and slammed the person against the wall. The person let out a groan, and slid down the carpeted floor. Ethan glared down at them as he waited for the ghostface mask to come off. It wasn’t long till he was met with Quinn’s annoyed face.

“What the fuck?” She stands up and shoves him.

“Plans off tonight...” Ethan shook his head.

“What the fuck do you mean its off? You said you were gonna get her alone tonight. That’s why we plotted this whole shit in the first place...” She looks over at him and sees the shift in his demeanor. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Holy shit! You didn’t?” Quinn brings her knife up to point accusatory at him. “You fucking dumbass. You got attached. What the fuck did we say about getting close to the oth-”

“We kissed!” Ethan exclaimed. “I kissed her!”

“You’re fucking pathetic…” Quinn rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna find her room unlocked am I?” She sneers at him. “You stupid fuck!”

“I’m not gonna let you kill her.” Ethan stands his ground. “Not her.” Ethan frowns.

“You fucking like her. That’s why you keep going out with them.” Quinn shakes her head.

“Tell dad she’s off the list. Not her. Quinn, I’m begging you, don’t fucking hurt her. If you do I’m gonna fucking kill you.” He glares down at her. “Not her.”

“You completely screwed up tonight's plans, you know that right? It would’ve been nice to have a heads up. Like you need to tell us when you just suddenly decide to ditch the plans we made...” Quinn pouts. Stomping her foot as she lets her arms fall to her sides. “Like what the fuck am I gonna do with her now?” Quinn and Ethan then look over to your very dead and brutally stabbed roommate next to her on the ground. The blue carpet staining red very fast.

“Shit…” Ethan runs a hand down his face as he looks around the halls.

“You need to say shit within reason, dumbass.” She slaps him upside the head. “This is why you don’t make the plans!”

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry fanfiction #my gif #writings by juls

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bloodmoonmuses · 6 months ago

Text

mediocre party crashers | mark lee

genre: mark x reader, fluff, strangers to... more! yk. the usual. lol

a/n: unedited, just trying to get out of my writer's block with some summer vibesssss hehe

wc: 2.1k

warnings: crude language, extensive mentions of alcohol and being intoxicated, making fun of the upper class mwahahaha...

summary: with your best friend, ningning, you crash a birthday party... that also happens to be on yacht. when you lose her in the crowd of upper class partygoers, you cross paths with a guy named mark.

In your youth, you would’ve never imagined yourself crashing a party, but being friends with Ningning has brought its own adventures over the years. You think back to the more mundane variations of such; late night grocery store runs, impromptu road trips, scratching your toxic ex’s car with your car keys… Okay, maybe mundane wasn’t the right word. However, the scale of Ning Ning’s spontaneity seemed to grow in scope- the smaller adventures of the past no longer satiating her wanderlust and adrenaline seeking tendencies.

So here you were, standing on the deck at the edge of the water, staring at a literal yacht.

Some friend of a friend of a cousin of the second wife of Ningning’s brother had told her about the “little'' get together that was currently underway. Apparently, as suggested by the gaudy banner shoddily attached to the side of the boat, it’s a birthday party.

The scene before you is almost a tableau; unable to be registered as real to your working-class eyes. Everyone in your line of vision is richer than rich- dripping in the kind of luxury that one can only experience when backed by multiple bloodlines of generational wealth. Some say wealth whispers, but the money these people have is shrieking at you.

To be honest, you were surprised when Ningning said she wanted to crash this party in particular. She’s a socialite, sure, but preppies weren’t really her crowd. Apparently, this was purely a social experiment from her point of view. Ningning had even gone as far as insisting the two of you dress the part. You were clad in a pleated skirt and striped tank top, whereas Ningning was in a collared Polo dress. It kinda felt like you were at a costume party- and when you think of it that way, the whole ordeal becomes way more fun. That is, until the anxiety kicks in.

“Ning, my love,” you begin, “How are we supposed to get into this party?”

Ningning pouts slightly, in that cute way she does, and shrugs.

“Just walk in?” she says as if it’s the most obvious answer ever. “There’s no bouncer, silly. It’s a yacht party.”

With that, she swings her hips and begins strutting towards the boat. Effortlessly, she walks into the party, not even batting an eye. You waddle behind her (albeit less gracefully) and instantly lose her in a crowd of gyrating bodies. Music floods your ears, and you call out for your friend- much to no avail. When you finally accept that it’ll be impossible to pin down Ningning for the night, you decide to explore the party by yourself.

As the night progresses, the party becomes livelier. Actually, it’s like a bunch of little parties happening in various sections of the boat. At some point, you find yourself below deck, where it’s darker, grimier.. The flashing party lights make you feel alive. People start throwing back shots, and the music gets sluttier- recession-pop EDM that’s so shrill it’s painful. However, the feeling of the bass permeating your chest gets your heart pumping and your body moving. Also, considering Ningning is still nowhere to be found, your options for socializing are limited. A part of you loves it; being surrounded by warm bodies covered in a layer of sheen- shimmering as they move in sync and the waves jostle you about. You melt away from your form, feeling entirely free. There’s a reason you like crashing parties: you get to be someone else for the night.

When you’ve danced enough, you take a seat on a sofa to catch your breath, closing your eyes as you take winded breaths. While your eyes are still closed, you feel the sofa dip beneath you. Finally, Ningning’s back, you think.

“Ning, can we go? I’m kinda over this ‘Members Of The 1%’ circle jerk…” you joke in an exasperated sigh.

“I think the circle jerk is happening downstairs, if that’s what you’re looking for…” The deepness of the voice that responds startles you, making you sit up and open your eyes. Then, the body attached to the voice silences you.

You’re enraptured by this man’s beauty- that sweet face of his boring into you with an air of amusement that makes your stomach flip. You vaguely remember seeing him on the makeshift dance floor earlier in the night, but the memory is fuzzy around the edges. You’ve been tipsy (bordering on drunk) for a while now.

Your face immediately warms up. “Shit… I meant-”

“Here for the birthday party, and not the circle jerk then?” the stranger says, cutting off your stammering. There’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his already massive eyes are dilated, indicating that he’s had a drink or two himself.

“Uh. Yeah,” you lie (not very convincingly).

The man nods, and you mirror him. “Johnny’s the best, isn’t he?” he says.

“Mhm. So happy we’re able to celebrate him today…”

“Yeah…” he trails, looking at you inquisitively. “-but Johnny’s birthday is in February.”

It’s currently June. Fuck.

You begin to stammer again, wishing you’d sink into the couch beneath you. “Right! I just meant-”

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“To be honest with you… I don’t know,” you concede.

“Well, for future reference, it’s Taeil’s birthday. Isn’t it, like, Party Crasher 101 to know who the birthday boy is?”

“I’m not really crashing. At least, not in the traditional sense. I’ve been on my best behavior, all things considered.” You’re tipsy, sure, but haven’t caused much harm. Ningning, on the other hand… Lord knows what she’s been up to. She probably has a whole list of new friends at this point. (And has probably swiped a few goodies to sell on Ebay.)

“Well, I am,” the man says.

Oh? you think.

The stranger stretches his hand towards you, gesturing for you to shake it. As you do so, he introduces himself. “Mark. Habitual party crasher.”

“_______. Mediocre, but also habitual, party crasher.”

“Nice to meet you, ______.” You drop your hand from his. After an awkward pause, you stand to leave. “Uh, Where are you going?” Mark asks, panic flooding his features. What’s his deal?

“Off to tell my handler that the jig is up,” you say. When you start to leave again, Mark says, “Wait!” He grasps your hand tightly, shockwaves shooting up your arm from the contact. For a brief moment, you’re enamored. The remnants of the sunset give the room an orange glow and Mark looks golden. His eyes are twinkling.

However, you snap out of your reverie quickly. When you give Mark a look, one that says “Who the fuck do you think you are?”, he quickly drops your hand from his hold. You snatch your hand away. Now, it’s Mark’s turn to stammer through a blunder.

“So I was wondering…do you want a tour of the boat?” he asks lamely.

You give him the up-down. He’s in bright orange pants and rugby stripes. A bit dorky, but cute. His brown hair falls into his eyes delicately, making his entire demeanor more… boyish. Even the redness across his cheeks (that’s also spreading to his neck) just makes him seem so inviting. You’re drawn to him like fire- warm, bright and hypnotizing.

You’re overtaken with the urge to see just how profusely you can make him blush- to see him in his skittish glory at the hands of your teasing. Before you get a chance to act on this, however, Ningning bounds into the room. She’s been swimming, as suggested by her wet hair and swimsuit cover. You notice a new bracelet as well.

“Babe, they’re about to sing Happy Birthday. Free cake!” Ningning squeals. As she pulls you out of the room, you flash Mark an apologetic look.

The partygoers gather on the deck, the setting sun shining indigo against deep water. It’s breathtaking. You could absolutely get used to this. A crowd forms around a table with a birthday cake at the center, and you attempt to scan the area for Mark.

As people begin to sing (to Taeil, not Johnny), you feel someone sidle up next to you. When you turn to see that it’s Mark, you smile.

“Hey,” he says.

You lock eyes with him, heart thumping similarly to when the dance music was coursing through your veins. “Hi.”

Mark rubs his neck with his hand, sheepishly trying to pick up where the two of you left off. “So I was gonna ask-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU…” the crowd breaks out into song enthusiastically, drowning out Mark’s voice.

“What?!” you yell, leaning in to listen.

Mark tries to project over the (horrible) singing. “I was saying we should-”

“Huh!?”

Before you realize it, the birthday song has come to a close.

“Do you still want a tour of the boat!?” Mark practically screams. His voice cuts through the sudden silence like a knife. It’s incredibly embarrassing and Mark’s entire face turns bright red.

Taeil looks at the two of you, quirking a brow confusedly. “Um… who are you?” he asks, looking back and forth between you and Mark.

“Uh… Ningning’s friend.”

“Mark. Just… Mark.” He’s beet red.

“Oh. Nice to meet you both,” Taeil says. Everyone resumes the party, firing off confetti and popping some (very expensive) champagne. The music resumes as well, starting back up the party, and you look around to see that Mark has disappeared. Again.

“Gonna try to sneak some cake, then we can head out. Meet back here in 10?” Ningning says. You nod, and make your way to the cabins below deck. You can’t let Mark go.

The first door you open, the room is empty. At the second door you reach, you hear moans, so you immediately run in the opposite direction. The third door you wander to swings open just as you reach for the knob, and out walks the man of the hour, Mark.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you say.

“Do you still wanna-”

“Let’s just chat on the deck. Fuck the tour,” you conclude with a giggle.

“Sounds good to me. I don’t know my way around anyway.”

At this, you chuckle, and the two of you walk to a pair of lounge chairs. The moon is out, little fairy lights strewn on the railing making the air feel magical. The breeze is just a little too cool. Mark must notice this, because he takes off his dress shirt and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

“Do you crash parties often, or is it more of an occasional thing?” Mark asks.

“Relatively often. It’s fun to be someone else for a night sometimes.”

“So the get-up is for fun?”

“Do I look like I wear Polo in my day-to-day life?” you ask.

Mark chuckles. “I don’t know, dude. You could pass as a preppie.”

You deadpan. “That’s the meanest thing you could’ve ever said to me.”

“I’m kidding. Seriously though, you’re, like, way cooler than anyone else here. I saw you dancing and-”

“You saw that?!” you squeal.

Before responding, Mark stands from his lounge chair to sit next to you. He adjusts the shirt that is still draped over your shoulders, his touch warming you up more than the garment has in the last few minutes. You’re a goner.

For a moment, the two of you bask in each other’s energy, the slight rocking of the boat and sound of crashing waves lulling you into effortless serenity.

“You’re so free.” Mark bores into you again and it’s suffocating. You know nothing about him, yet you’re privy to the lifetimes behind his eyes. Perhaps you’ve been a part of one of them- a message in a bottle finally surfacing on a beach’s shore. You believe in the existence of fate, but only for the night.

“That’s all I’m saying,” Mark continues.

You shake off the feeling of being so seen, breaking his hypnotizing eye contact. Untangling yourself from his quiet multitudes.

“What about you? Do you crash parties often?”

“Weddings, usually. Mostly for the cake. Bought a tux for it and everything.”

“A professional. I’m impressed,” you say.

You look out to the water, feeling its breeze envelope you, and a shiver runs through your body.

Mark is bashful again, head dipping slightly as he suggests, “We should crash a party together sometime.”

Your eyes return to him as you say, “For sure.”

“Does that mean I can get your number?” You take Mark’s phone wordlessly, and enter your number, after which Mark says, “Apparently that Johnny guy is having a rodeo themed party next week… Wanna go?”

“And be mediocre party crashers together? Definitely.”

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #mark lee fic #nct 127 fluff #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct mark #nct fanfic #my fic #WE'RE SO BACK LMAO

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