#yet my biggest problem most of the time is not saying anything at all in most situations. because of. the masking

[seaofreverie]

We should normalize bringing these sort of "small talk ideas" cards to meetings with other people so that it's possible to avoid the awkwardness of not knowing what to talk about to kick things off or if it's considered normal to talk about this specific thing and AUGHGHFCG all this stuff.

[godslino]

MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[pucksandpower]

Ruin the Friendship

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you and Max refuse to confess your feelings for each other in fear of ruining your friendship. Naturally, Max chooses to ruin every date with another man you go on instead

You can’t remember a time when Max Verstappen wasn’t your best friend.

The two of you grew up together, playing in the streets of Hasselt since before you could walk. Your parents joke that you learned to crawl just so you could keep up with him.

As you got older, your friendship only grew stronger. You were inseparable, there for each other through all the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. When Max’s karting career took off, you were his biggest supporter, traveling all over Europe on weekends whenever you could to cheer him on at races.

After he moved to Monaco when he joined Red Bull, Max begged you to come with him. “I can’t do this without my best friend by my side,” he said. You didn’t hesitate — there was nowhere you would rather be than with Max.

Now you live together in his apartment in Monte Carlo. Mornings are spent on his balcony overlooking the glistening Mediterranean, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Evenings are filled with video games, movies, and dreams of the future.

You know everything about each other, from favorite foods to secret fears. You trust Max more than anyone else in the world. He’s your person, the other half of your soul. Sometimes you think you love him as more than a friend, but you’d never risk what you have. If you lost Max, you’d lose yourself.

Today is like any other day. Max is sitting next to you on the couch, focused intently on crushing you in Mario Kart. You’re trying your best, but he’s just too good.

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist in the air as he wins yet again. “Too easy!”

You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Whatever, I let you win.”

He laughs. “Sure you did.” His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to suggest another round when Max’s phone rings. He grabs it off the coffee table. “It’s Christian,” he says. “Probably wants to go over strategy for the race this weekend. I better take this.”

“No problem.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll make us some lunch while you talk to him.”

Max answers the call as he makes his way out to the balcony. Through the glass door you see him pacing, one hand waving animatedly as he talks. You smile and head to the kitchen.

As you rummage through the fridge, you think about the race this weekend. You couldn’t be more proud of Max and everything he’s accomplished. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he got into that car. Still, you know racing makes him happier than anything else in the world. And his happiness is what matters most to you.

You find the ingredients for Max’s favorite sandwich — nutella and banana. As you start spreading nutella on slices of bread, you hear Max call your name from the next room.

“Y/N! Come here, I need your opinion on something!”

You poke your head out of the kitchen. “Can it wait? I’m making lunch!”

“No, it’s urgent! Just come here!” He’s smiling like he has a secret.

You laugh, wiping your nutella-covered hands on a towel. “Alright, I’m coming!”

You make your way out to the balcony, wondering what Max wants your opinion on. With him, it could be anything.

“Ok, what’s up?” You ask.

Max grins and takes your hand, his eyes twinkling. “How would you feel about being my date to the FIA Gala this year?”

You stare at Max, stunned. “Your … your date? To the FIA Gala?”

He nods, still grinning. “Yeah! It’s next month in Baku. I could really use my best friend by my side for moral support on the big Red Carpet.”

Your mind is reeling. The FIA Gala is the biggest formal event of the Formula 1 season. All the top drivers and teams come dressed to the nines to celebrate the end of the championship. Rumors always swirl about who will bring the hottest date.

And Max wants you to be his.

“Are … are you sure?” You stammer. “Wouldn’t you rather bring a model or something?”

Max scoffs. “Please. You know I hate those stuffy events. But with you there cracking jokes and making fun of everybody with me, it might actually be fun for once!”

You can’t help but smile at the thought of being on Max’s arm. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist. “This is going to be epic. I’ll have my team sort all the details. All you have to do is show up looking gorgeous.” He winks.

You blush slightly. “I think I can manage that.”

Over the next few weeks, Max’s stylist comes by the apartment for dress fittings. You settle on a couture emerald gown with a daring slit up the leg. The perfect blend of classy and sexy.

Max lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your suite the night of the gala. “You look incredible,” he says, staring at you in awe.

You smooth down the front of your dress self-consciously. “So do you.” Max cuts a sharp figure in his black tuxedo.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

Your stomach flutters as you take it. You still can’t believe you’re Max’s date tonight. Part of you wishes it were real instead of just for show.

As predicted, jaws drop when you walk the red carpet on Max’s arm. Cameras flash furiously around you.

“They’re gonna think you’re my new girlfriend,” Max murmurs in your ear.

You laugh. “Let them think what they want.” But secretly, you wish the rumors were true.

The night flies by in a blur of champagne, dancing, and laughter. You and Max stay by each other’s side the whole time, laughing and judging everyone’s outfits. It’s the most fun you’ve had in ages.

On the ride back to the hotel, Max rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “That’s what best friends are for.”

But as you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but wonder if Max will ever see you as more than just his best friend.

***

Not long after coming back home, you’re getting ready for your first date since the FIA Gala. After seeing you all dressed up with Max, your friend Julian finally got the nerve to ask you out. You said yes, partly to stop constantly pining for Max.

You’re meeting Julian for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, Max lounges on your bed.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Julian,” Max says, scowling. “That guy is so boring.”

You toss a pillow at him. “Stop it, he’s cute! I think it’ll be fun.”

Max catches the pillow and frowns. “What if I took you somewhere way better tonight instead?”

You pause your makeup application. “Wait, like a date?”

“What? No!” Max avoids your eyes. “Just as friends.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Well, I already made plans with Julian.”

“Fine, go on your lame date,” Max grumbles. “But when Julian puts you to sleep talking about accounting, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You finish getting ready then head out to meet Julian. He greets you with a bouquet of flowers. “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thanks!” You reply. The date starts off nicely. Julian is a perfect gentleman over dinner. But as the conversation wears on, you find yourself growing bored. Max was right, Julian is really dull.

Suddenly, you get a text from Max.

SOS come quick! Emergency at the apartment!

You frown, instantly worried. “Sorry Julian, I have to go. My roommate needs me.”

Julian looks disappointed but nods in understanding. “No problem. I’ll walk you out.”

You hurry home, anxious to make sure Max is okay. You burst through the apartment door. “Max! What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Max looks up casually from the couch. “Oh hey Y/N. What’s up?”

“What’s up? You texted me that there was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah, we ran out of gummy bears,” he says, waving an empty bag. “I was hungry.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious, Max? I was on my date!”

Max grins. “Oops, my bad! But I saved you from dying of boredom with that guy. How about we order a pizza instead?”

You want to be mad at him for ruining your date. But looking at his smiling face, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible,” you say, plopping down next to him.

Max just winks and hands you a controller. “Now come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me in Mario Kart this time.”

And just like that, you forget all about Julian and your ruined date. Nothing is nearly as fun as spending time with your best friend.

***

A few days later, you’re getting ready for another date, this time with a guy named Levi who you met online. He’s gorgeous with tattoos and an edgy style, totally your type.

When you tell Max about the date over breakfast, he nearly chokes on his eggs. “You can’t be serious. That dude looks like a complete tool.”

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse. “Don’t pretend you know anything about him. I think he’s hot and he seems cool.”

Max crosses his arms. “Well I don’t like it. How do you know this guy isn’t a total creep?”

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, “But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself on a date.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a hand. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it! I’m running late as it is.” You give Max a quick hug. “Don’t wait up!”

You meet Levi at a trendy speakeasy bar downtown. He looks even hotter than his Tinder pics, with arm tattoos peeking out from under his leather jacket.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a crooked smile. He leans in for a lingering kiss on your cheek.

You blush. “Hi yourself.” Maybe Max was wrong about this guy.

You have a great time with Levi. The drinks are strong and the conversation is easy. After a few hours, Levi asks if you want to get out of there.

“I’d love to see your apartment,” you say with a flirtatious glance.

Levi grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He pays the tab and you start walking to his place. As you turn a corner, you run straight into someone, nearly falling over.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorr-Max? What are you doing here?”

Max steadies you with his hands. “Y/N! Fancy running into you!”

You stare at Max in disbelief. “Did you follow me?”

Max avoids your gaze. “What? No, of course not. I was just in the neighborhood.”

You cross your arms. “I find that hard to believe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Levi pipes up from behind you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you reply tightly, not taking your eyes off Max.

Max finally meets your stare, his jaw clenched. “I was worried about you, okay? This guy looks like bad news.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not your call to make. I’m allowed to go on dates without you ruining them.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I know, I’m sorry. I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He glances at Levi again uncertainly.

You soften a bit, seeing the genuine concern in Max’s eyes. You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ll be okay. See you at home later.”

You turn to Levi, who looks understandably confused. You loop your arm through his. “Shall we keep going?”

But as you walk away, the playful mood from earlier is gone. Levi tries to make conversation, but you’re preoccupied thinking about Max and the sad look on his face.

Levi invites you up to his apartment still, but your heart’s not in it anymore. You make an excuse and head home, feelings conflicted.

Max is on the couch when you storm in. “Hey! How was the date?”

You don’t answer, just grab a pillow and start smacking him with it.

“Ow!” Max holds up his hands, laughing. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what it was for, you sneaky jerk! Sabotaging my date again.”

Max grins up at you impishly. “Maybe I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You keep hitting him with the pillow, but end up collapsing on the couch next to him, both of you breathless with laughter.

“You’re the worst,” you say between giggles.

Max drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah but admit it, you love me anyway.”

You sigh and nestle against him. “Unfortunately yes, I do.”

And you know that no matter how many dates Max sabotages, he’ll always be your number one.

***

After the last two disastrous dates, you decide to take a break from dating for a while. But your coworker Jess convinces you to give it one more shot with a guy named Liam she met at her gym. Reluctantly, you agree to meet up with him.

The day of the date arrives and you get ready halfheartedly, already anticipating Max’s attempts to sabotage it. Speaking of Max, you realize you haven’t seen him all day, which is odd.

You find a note on the kitchen counter:

Had to fly to Milton Keynes last minute for work. Will be gone all weekend. Have fun on your date.

<3 Max

You’re surprised but also a bit disappointed. While his meddling is annoying, you’re so used to Max being a constant presence in your dating life. It will feel weird doing this without him.

You push that thought aside as you head out to meet Liam at a burger place. When you arrive, you’re pleasantly surprised. Liam is handsome, charming, and easy to talk to.

After lunch, you go on a walk through a nearby park. You’re having such a nice time, you don’t even think about Max. At the end of the date, Liam asks to see you again.

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile. Liam leans in for a sweet goodbye kiss.

As you turn to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling your name. “Y/N! There you are!”

You whirl around to see Max jogging towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you had that work thing.”

Max shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, it got canceled last minute.”

Liam looks between you two, confused. “Wait, is this the dude you live with?”

Before you can respond, Max strides up and vigorously shakes Liam’s hand. “Max Verstappen, nice to meet you! I’m Y/N’s … boyfriend.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “My WHAT?”

“Yeah babe, your boyfriend,” Max says, draping an arm around you. “Sorry I couldn’t make our date today, got held up at work. But who’s this guy you’re with?”

Liam stares wide-eyed at Max’s arm around you. “Uh, I should get going. See you around, Y/N.” He scurries off.

You shove Max away from you, fuming. “What the hell was that? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you dating that dude.”

“So you LIED? You scared him off forever!” You poke Max’s chest angrily.

He grabs your hand. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I was jealous and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You search his face and see real remorse in his eyes. Your anger starts to fade.

“Jealous? Why would you be jealous, Max?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

He takes a shaky breath. “Because the truth is, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend. I have been for a long time. Seeing you with those other guys made me realize I couldn’t stand not being with you myself.”

You stand frozen, stunned into silence. Max rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Please say something.”

You finally find your voice again. “Took you long enough, idiot.”

And you grab his shirt and kiss him deeply. Max grins against your lips, wrapping you in his arms.

“No more sabotaging my dates,” you murmur.

“Deal,” Max whispers. “As long as I can be your one and only from now on.”

You answer by kissing him again under the setting sun. At long last, you finally have your dream guy.

***

The next morning, you wake up in Max’s arms, still unable to believe the incredible turn your relationship has taken. Last night after the park, you came home and talked for hours, admitting your true feelings while cuddled up on the couch. You kissed and kissed until you both finally fell asleep tangled together.

Now in the light of day, your worries start to creep in. What if this ruins your friendship? What if you’re not meant to be more than best friends?

You untangle yourself from Max’s embrace and go to make coffee. He finds you a few minutes later on the balcony overlooking the sea.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Max says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kisses your shoulder.

You turn in his arms to face him. “Can we talk about this?”

He frowns slightly. “Talk about what?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This new aspect of our relationship. I’m just worried it will mess things up. Maybe we should take a step back and think things through?”

Max’s face falls. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“No, not second thoughts exactly. I care about you so much Max, as my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Max caresses your cheek. “You could never ruin our friendship. It means everything to me too. But we both deserve to be happy, and I know we can make each other happy in this new way as well. I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”

You search his earnest eyes. He’s right — your connection runs so much deeper than just friendship. And you trust Max. If anyone is worth taking this risk for, it’s him.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re right. I want to make this work.”

Relief washes over Max’s face. He leans in and kisses you softly. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!”

You laugh. “Well in that case, take me on our first official date tonight!”

“It would be my pleasure.” Max strokes your hair. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. On us. I know we’re meant to be, schatje. I’ve loved you all my life.”

“I’ve loved you all my life too,” you whisper. And you know that no matter what happens, your bond with Max will never break.

The future has yet to be written, but you’re ready to face it hand-in-hand with the man who has always had your heart.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

James Wilson dating someone who gets cuteness aggression

Warnings: cuteness aggression (duh) so there's mention of playful biting and such from the reader

A/N: this idea popped into my head randomly and I thought it'd be a big hit with my fellow Wilson lovers because honestly who doesn't get cuteness aggression when looking at him

I don't think Wilson would know what cuteness aggression is but I'm pretty sure he's used to people displaying their affection in less than conventional ways given that House is his best friend

He wouldn't have a problem with it, per say, but he'd certainly be confused to first time you do it

Picture it: he's sitting in his office as he fills out paperwork while you're waiting for him to finish. You're so bored and want his attention so badly that when he stops writing for even a second you take that as an opportunity to bite his hand

You don't bite hard enough to draw blood or anything, just hard enough to get his attention

He stops what he was doing and looks over at you with a befuddled expression on his face, his big brown puppy dog eyes full of confusion

"Did you just- did you just bite me?" It's clear from the disbelief in his voice that he doesn't know what to think. He'd never been bitten before, certainly not in such a casual manner

"Yeah, so?" You gave him a slight shrug as if it were no big deal. "Sometimes I bite people I like. Is that a problem?"

Being the little people pleaser he is, he of course says no. "Uh, not at all. I just- I wasn't expecting that"

He goes back to work, thinking that'll be the end of it. It's not, as you decide to take his indifference as an invitation to bite him whenever you get the chance to

It doesn't take that long for him to get used to your strange habits of biting him when he's not paying attention to you or squeezing him a little too hard when giving him hugs

If House finds out about your cuteness aggression (which, let's be honest, of course he does because he has no respect for other people's privacy) he uses that information as a way to get on Wilson's nerves all the time

"Nice bite marks on your hand. Did you get a dog recently, or is it just another act of affection from your doting partner?"

"Shut up, House"

"What? I'm not the one willingly giving myself up to be somebody else's chew toy"

In all honesty, Wilson actually doesn't mind your cuteness aggression, even if he knows he probably should

He always lets you playfully bite his hand or give him really tight hugs when you ask with no complaint, finding the acts to be oddly endearing for some reason

Even when you coddle and baby talk him the same way someone might speak to a pet the most he might do is roll his eyes or let out a loud exasperated sigh

"You're so cute, Jimmy, did you know that? It makes me want to wrap you up and never let you go"

"Well, it's nice to know you care about me, even if you are talking to me like I'm a dog"

"Hey, it's not my fault you have the biggest, most adorable set of puppy dog eyes around that make you look like such a little cutie patootie"

"You're as bad as House, did you know that?"

"I take that as a compliment"

"Of course you do"

All in all, Wilson loves you and knows that you love him, even if you show it in an odd way

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[coichii]

SNOWMAN ✭

—(🎧)—> you visit your best friend in Incheon again after 4 years, leaving with a burning feeling of loneliness and guilt. It doesn’t help that you’ve been in love with him since you were little, and the those feelings haven’t melted away at all.

pairing - childhoodbsf!han x fem!reader

genre - friends to ??, more angsty than fluff BY FAR

word count - 2.2k

warnings - accidental le sserafim reference (iykyk), starts with like no dialogue whoops, cursing, probably too much angst.

series note : hello !! welcome to part five of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “snowman” by Sia. enjoy <3

1570 days.

It has been 1570 days since you last stepped foot in Incheon, the city you had grown up in and spent all of your childhood.

It wasn’t easy to leave; saying goodbye to the one and only place you could call home. The smells of fresh bread sold by local vendors were instead replaced by the muck of New York City, having to go there for your abroad program.

However, it wasn’t the local taste that you would end up missing the most. No, instead it was him.

You can’t even remember when you became Han’s friend, probably some time in early pre-k. You two were inseparable, doing anything and everything together. From the sandbox to the 9-5.

He was so happy for you when you mentioned you had got accepted into your dream college, but his heart dropped and tears fell when you said it was in the states.

He was excited for you of course. You’re his best friend, how could he not be? But he’s not going to lie about the queasy feeling he got in his stomach when he thought of never seeing you again.

He couldn’t help the tears that sprung in his eyes when he thought about the possibility of you forgetting him. Couldn’t help migraine when thinking about you falling in love with someone but him. But he couldn’t stop you.

All he could do was drive you to the airport that one, rainy and cloudy day you left him, giving you one last tight hug before you left him. He felt like him letting you out of his grasp that day was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

You guys never stopped talking, of course. It was hard to talk with the time differences, but you always made time for each other. To be honest, you were up at 3am doing homework anyway, so what’s the harm in letting an energetic quokka ramble to you at 5pm.

Seeing Jisung grow in his career, as an idol, as a person, and not being able to be there are at you in a way you had never experienced. You couldn’t help the tears that sprung in your eyes when you thought about the possibility of him forgetting you. Couldn’t help migraine when thinking about him falling in love with someone but you.

You knew something he didn’t though. He was working away dance practice with the boys, thinking you were sleeping away the early hours of the morning. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

You were currently piling off a plane heading from JFK to Incheon, a long, grueling 15hr flight. It would all be worth it though, getting to see the love of you li— best friend after so long could heal everything in you.

You actually organized some of this with one of your other friends before you moved, Chris. He helped arrange you a place to stay after you landed, which after this flight and dark, winter sky, you couldn’t be more grateful for.

—

new message from : chan 🐺

chan 🐺 : did you land yet?

you : just did, I’m heading to baggage claim !!

chan 🐺 : okay, that’s good

chan 🐺 : I have everything prepared for you when you get to the hotel

chan 🐺 : just tell them I booked it

you : thank you so much, chris 🥲

chan 🐺 : no problem, y/n ☺️

—

You go through baggage claim, heart racing in the crowds of people. It wasn’t the anxiety of crowded places in this case. No, it was the excitement of seeing him for the first time in years.

The taxi ride is long and tiring, your eyes fluttering closed spontaneously as the driver brought you to the hotel.

You didn’t forget to tip them generous tip as you made it to the hotel chan had booked for you. It’s nice, obviously popular and rather big.

It’s no trouble booking in, making it to your room and plopping down on the bed almost immediately, not bothering to change your clothes.

In your dreams, you find yourself with him. The feeling of floating on a cloud as you hold him in your warm grasp is euphoric, making you miss the days where he would hold you in the same comforting embrace.

It’s only a couple of hours before you can see him again.

◂—♥︎—▸

It’s now 7pm the next day. You’ve spent the day preparing yourself to see him again, waiting impatiently in the lobby.

It’s around the time he would be getting out of dance rehearsals, the building emptying out rather quickly. You even saw one of your old friends there too, Yuna, an idol you had met a little before moving when visiting with Han. The nostalgia hits hard, vision quickly turning blurry as you get word from Chris that he’s heading down now.

There, you see him.

He turns the corner, beautiful silky hair floating on his face like a halo. His eyes are like boba as he makes his way down the lobby’s hallways.

He turns his head, scanning the various faces on the sides, stopping and staring at a particular section.

There, he sees you.

“Uh. Hey, hannie.” You stammer, suddenly shy at his dropped jaw and shocked eyes. “It’s been a whi-“

You can finish your sentence as your suddenly tackled on the bench, Han stuffing his head deep into the crook of your neck. People are staring and whispering, but you couldn’t care less. All you care about is seeing him again.

“H-holy fuck. Y-yn, is it r-really you?” He whimpers, and you can feel his tears wetting your shoulders as he holds you.

He holds you as if you could slip through his fingers at any time, like you’re a delicate snowflake that can just melt away in a flash.

“Yes, yes, Hanji. It’s me.” You chuckle, but hot tears are filling your eyes as you do so. You stroke his soft hair as he starts to calm down, melting into your warm touch.

“W-why didn’t you tell me you were coming.” You coo as he continues to cry, him finally looking up at your face as if he has to convince himself that you’re really there, that you’re really you.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You giggle as Han wipes a stray tear from your cheek, leaning in to his touch as he pouts.

“Did anyone else know?” He asks, eye contact not ceasing.

“Only channie. He helped me plan this.” And Han groans at plants his face back into your neck.

“I’m going to kick his ass for not letting me know.” He mutters, voice blurred by your warm skin. You giggle, moving on of your hands from his head to his back.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbles, and you can feel your heart shattering into tiny, fragile shards.

“Oh, Hannie. But I’m here now aren’t I.” He whimpers in response, burying his face deeper into your chest.

The lobby is empty now, only stragglers walking through the hallways of the building. You can hear the sounds of the coffee machine whirring, its sounds blending in with the ambiance of the vacant room.

His breathing evens out and you sigh.

Wow, you really missed him.

◂—♥︎—▸

“What do you mean you’re only staying for the month?” Han asks, eyes sparkling

You were seated together in his studio. He had just shown you around the new JYPE building, it had been forever since you’ve been there.

You had to tell him; the guilt was burning at you. He looked so excited, so happy. You wanted to keep that same feeling, but you knew you had to go home— go back to the states within a month.

What were you thinking. That place wasn’t home, here is. Here in Korea with him was always home.

“I’m sorry hannie, but I have to.” You feel pathetic that that’s all you can say, all you can offer him. You can’t conceal the tears that fall down your own face, their pace quickening as a strangled whimper leaves his throat.

“I thought you were going to stay for longer.” He sounds so defeated, like a squeak toy that’s been used too much. It pains you. You wish you could stay for longer—no. You wish you could stay forever.

You can’t look in his eyes, choosing to look out the window at the frozen crystals that dance across the sky, the wind blowing them in all directions. You feel as helpless as them; just being blown in the wind of emotions and feelings.

“I wish I could stay forever, Han. But I can’t, I’m so so sorry.” You sob, breathe quickening and becoming uneven.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. I’m sorry. I’m just happy you can be here for the time you are.” He pulls you into his grasp, running comforting fingers over your skin.

You know he’s sorry for making you cry, but you feel the guilt again.

The guilt of leaving him by himself for more years to come.

“Wanna go out? Make the best of it while we can?” He asks, your head peering up at his, causing his own heart to break. The parallel makes you chuckle dryly; just the other day you were doing this to him as he cried about missing you, now you’re crying about missing him.

“Yeah. Just give me a second to calm down.” And he smiles, pushing your hair out of your starry eyes.

“Of course, I wasn’t going to let you go out like this anyways.” You can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, so you let him.

“Oh? So I don’t look good right now?” You snicker, pushing off him playfully. He shakes his head no, stifling in a laugh.

“Ok then. Guess you’re not taking me anywhere.” You threaten playfully, and his boba eyes expand.

“No, no I’m playing. You look beautiful always y/n.” Your cheeks flush up and the sudden compliment.

It’s been a while since you’ve been that close, so hearing him compliment you like that erupted butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you hanji.” You blush, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m ready.”

“Cmon then. Let’s go.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“So, this is really it, huh?”

You’ve spent practically every day with him this month, whether that be waiting back stage for him to finish performances or going out to go eat lunch, yukgaejang warming your belly from the harsh, winter weather.

Soft touches littered throughout your conversations, intense eye contact that you hadn’t experienced in forever. The chemistry was unmatched.

But there you stood, wind blowing and raising goose bumps on your skin as you stared emptily at the airport. It’s the same one in Incheon that you had arrived in, but it’s not the same feelings.

Instead of the feeling of excitement and happiness, all you could feel was sadness and regret.

You weren’t sure where the regret was coming from. You could never regret visiting him, even though it was for a small time.

Maybe it’s the feeling of knowing he’ll be alone again, after all, this is the same airport he dropped you off at those four years ago.

The memory haunts you like a poltergeist, the look of tears that were on his face stuck in your mind permanently.

And look where you are now, standing infront of the same terminal, looking at the same sight again on his face.

“I guess so.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it.

The sound of the speakers distracts you. It’s a lady on it, sounding hapy as she announces that the plane is now boarding. You don’t know how she can sound so happy, after all, you’re not sure you will be feeling that way for the next couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry, Hanji. I wish I could stay longer.” You choke up, moving to hug him, hurrying your face into his chest as tears wet his shirt.

“Shhh, it’s okay y/n. We’ll never be apart, yeah?” He comforts, running his hands on your hair.

“Yah, y/n. You’re supposed to be the one comforting me, not the other way around.” He jokes, tilting your head up towards him to flash you a silly smile.

“We’ll always be together. Even if you’re in New york, or Chicago, or wherever the fuck you could be.” He wipes away a tear from your cheek as one falls down his.

“I’ll always l-love you. And we’ll always be us.” He’s kissing you then, and all the sounds of crowds melt away as he does so.

You wrap your arm around his neck, allowing him to pull you in deeper. It all feels so… so right. Tears melting together sweetly, as you lose yourselves in eachother.

It’s a long while before you pull away, distracted by the sound of the final boarding call announcement being made.

“I love you too, hannie.” You turn around, pushing your small tote bag further up your shoulder from where it had slipped. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

“No. See you later.” He grabs your hand one last time, bringing it up to his lips to leave one, lingering kiss. Pulling away was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do before.

“See you later, Hanji.”

[trainsinanime]

Is there a specific scientific term for what I'll call "harm construction", meaning "thinking of ways that something harms someone in order to condemn it"? There must be, right? I see it all the time and it's not new. Let me give some examples in random order.

One of the first cases where I really remember it was at least a decade ago, an online article by a British newspaper, about how an online store had put a pole dancing pole in their toys section. A bit of an embarrassing mistake but nothing more.

However, that article provided several quotes from a British couple who said they were very worried, because their kid could have seen that. It seems pretty clear that their kid did not, in fact, actually see it, but the newspaper treated their concern as if it was a genuine thing to worry about. It was utterly ridiculous.

A more recent example is a call-out ask I received a few months ago and, of course, immediately deleted, but it's still been living rent-free in my head since then, because it was so horribly bad. I'll not repeat the exact wording, but they were annoyed that their victim blog (which I don't follow and haven't for years, if ever, and they don't follow me) was annoying and sometimes said mean things. They very ineptly tried to explain that this might have been part of the reasons why someone else, completely unrelated, sent out hate messages to yet another person. That was the harm that was so big that it supposedly justified a targeted harassment campaign. (If you're the person who wrote that call-out ask, please rethink your life. You were only increasing the hate in the world, not making anything better. I suspect the sender wasn't anyone who actually follows me, but just in case).

The biggest and most prominent example of harm construction right now is of course all about trans people, bathrooms and school sports. Conservatives and TERFs alike need a reason to oppose the existence of trans people beyond "I personally find them weird", because saying that out loud gets them correctly branded as bigots. How do you turn "let's be really mean to a marginalised group" into a progressive cause? By saying that the existence of this group causes harm. The problem with that is that trans people existing does not actually cause any harm, it's literally fine.

So in an effort to construct harm after all, they have searched far and wide for something that trans people could even theoretically damage, and the only things they managed to come up with are "there might be someone with unexpected genitals behind that bathroom stall door" and "the sanctity of gender-segregated sports". If it weren't for their cultural and political power then it would almost be funny how little potential harm they managed to find and how much they have to amplify it. They're just another couple in the newspaper worried that their kid might potentially see a website.

If you look for it, harm construction is everywhere, because we all sort of agree on a surface level that dividing people into "normal, acceptable" and "weird, must be punished" isn't nice, but the instinct to punish people for being "weird" is still alive and well and many people refuse to question it.

At a completely different end, anytime someone uses the word "normalisation" about a fanfic on Ao3, that's another example. We all know making blorbos do weird things doesn't actually hurt anybody (assuming proper tagging and so on), but we still want to punish people who do it wrong. So we construct harm, by arguing that seeing something on Ao3 might "normalise" the thing and make it more likely that someone will do it in real life.

These examples are very different, at very different ends of almost all scales of power and cultural influence and meaning, but the core idea is always the same. So, yeah. There must be a better term for this.

[shan-yee]

•𝘿𝙖𝙮 𝙄𝙑 = 𝘛𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘱.1

•𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 = 𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘯 [𝘙𝘌], 𝘚𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘳𝘢 [𝘞𝘉], 𝘌𝘬𝘬𝘰 [𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘦], 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 [𝘛𝘙], 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 [𝘈𝘐𝘉]

•𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 = 𝘛𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘰𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 ?

•𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 = 833

•𝘼/𝙉 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

——— 𝐒 𝗨 𝗠 𝗠 𝗔 𝗥 𝗬 • • •

𝐈 :: 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻

𝐈𝐈 :: 𝗦𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗿𝗮

𝐈𝐈𝐈 :: 𝗘𝗸𝗸𝗼

𝐈𝐕 :: 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻

𝐕 :: 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘆𝗮

╰─► 𝐈 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻

⇰ His job is clearly one of, if not the, most dangerous job in the world. And yet, he will never stop, he will always accept his missions without saying anything.

⇰ Even if he wanted to leave this corrupt and violent world he couldn't, simply because he knows too much now. Ending up in a trash can, with a bullet between both eyes, is not really his goal.

⇰ He knows it's selfish to ask his partner to wait for him for days or even weeks without knowing if he's still alive, but Leon needs the comfort she gives him once he gets home.

⇰ Unfortunately his work is not the only downside, there is also this woman, Ada Wong, whom, even with the years that pass, he cannot forget.

⇰ Every time he thinks he's moved on and plans to move forward with his girlfriend—marriage ?—, she reappears and shakes up everything in his life.

⇰ Sometimes, he will even ask himself who he would choose if the situation forced him to do so.

╰─► 𝐈𝐈 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝗦𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗿𝗮

⇰ Sakura will always have scars from his past, even after finding his « family » and being in a fulfilling relationship. A voice in his head will always whisper to him that this is only temporary and that he should not let his guard down.

⇰ His insecurities will manifest into jealousy and lack of trust in his partner, after all, she wil have no problem finding someone better than him, right ?

⇰ He won't be able to help but always doubt her and wonder why she stays with him, which will create many arguments where he will never admit being wrong.

⇰ Sakura will refuse to talk about his problems and will tend to reject hus partner even if deep down he would like her comfort.

⇰ And if one day the reader decided she had had enough and wanted to take a break he would tell her that he knew she didn't love him and that he was right, making his case worse.

╰─► 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝗘𝗸𝗸𝗼

⇰ Ekko is surely one of the biggest green flags in the world but there is just one downside, he is busy all the time.

⇰ Ekko is the leader of the Firelights, so he's always going around making sure everything is okay in the community.

⇰ And when he's not caring for others, he fights against Silco's men and risks his life without thinking twice.

⇰ There will be times when he disappears for days, or even several weeks, and poof, he will reappear as if nothing had happened with his arms wide open.

⇰ If his partner tells him that it bothers her, he will say that he will try but it’ll never last very long. His role as leader is far too important for him and even for the one he loves, he will never be ready to abandon it.

╰─► 𝐈𝐕 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻

⇰ There Is a saying that says that you never really forget your first love, and Draken is one of those people.

⇰ He never wanted to talk to anyone about it and for years he acted as if nothing had happened, as if Emma's death hadn't affected him that much, which is totally false .

⇰ Upon meeting his partner he really thought he could get past the memory of his first love but no.

⇰ Unconsciously he will always compare the reader and Emma. He will look for something that reminds him of the blonde, a smile, a laugh, an expression, but nothing will make him feel what he felt for her.

⇰ Draken will truly love his partner but not in the same way he loved Emma. He’ll never admit it and honestly I don't think the reader will realize it since he will never talk about the blonde and will always be the perfect husband.

⇰ Draken will never say that he still thinks of Emma and will continue to live his life as if nothing had happened, to fill his guilt he will be extremely gentle and loving with his girlfriend, protecting her from what he feels deep down.

╰─► 𝐕 ･ ｡ﾟ☆ 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘆𝗮

⇰ As we have observed several times in both seasons, Chishiya is the master of manipulation and unfortunately, even in a relationship, that will not change.

⇰ He won’t hesitate to use the most twisted ⇰ techniques to get what he wants from his partner, even tugging at her heartstrings.

⇰ If she makes the remark to him, he will agree with her and make sure to be forgiven with sweet words and acts of tenderness.

⇰ Unfortunately he will never change, manipulation is part of him and yet he knows that what he does is not considered something good.

⇰ Also, if the situation forces him to, he will not think twice about sacrificing his partner to get out of the games and live.

⇰ His love for his girlfriend is real but it is not healthy and is not as strong as his will to save his ass . He might blame himself a little and will surely end up regretting it but ultimately he will make peace with it.

[mncxbe]

bsd men and what they do for christmas

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: sfw/nsfw/ severe brainrot♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

can I just start by saying that this man has never celebrated Christmas properly so he's so excited to spend time with you

Dazai prefers to keep things simple: homemade dinner and then watching a movie

you're supposed to open the presents in the morning but he isn't patient enough. the moment he sees them under the tree you so kindly decorated a few days ago he has the biggest smile on his face

"come on bella you don't seriously want to wait until morning. how could you do this to me? you know how curious I am"

you end up opening the gifts that night. he's gonna loves whatever you get him really but his heart literally melts if you knit him a scarf or write him a letter. dazai's a sucker for self-made gifts

the only appropriate way to show his gratitude is to bend you over and fuck you nice and slow, your face mushed in the cushy pillows on your shared bed as he takes you from behind

"there you go pretty girl. my, my I'm starting to think this pretty pussy of yours is my favourite gift so far"

you can bet he wears a santa hat

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

he'd take you out to the most expensive restaurant in town for a proper meal

after that, if you find a rink that's open on Christmas eve he takes you ice skating (totally not an excuse for him to hold your hand)

once you get home you cuddle on the couch while watching a generic movie like Home Alone. it's always the classics I'm telling you

he has a fireplace!!! and insists on opening the gifts next to it

among other stuff, he gets you Christmas themed lingerie and makes you wear it in bed. cuz after all, you're the best gift he could ask for

forget about baking him sweets, the only dessert he wants is your pretty cunt. he's gonna eat you out for what seems like hours, making you cum on his tongue at least two or three times before he even thinks about fucking you

"shiit baby you look so pretty like this. you like it when I spoil you rotten don't ya? I bet you do- oh fuck yea cum f'me doll"

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

hubby's busy even on holidays

he probably has to attend some obnoxious event and ofc you go as his plus one

he's gonna spend all evening sulking and complaining about how idiotic the whole party is

by the time you two get home he's too exhaused to do anything but you may be able to bribe him to stay awake for an hour or two with some gingerbread

can I just say he'd probably get you the nicest gifts? i'm 100% sure he has a good salary so he can afford whatever you want. expensive jewelery or skincare? sure, no problem. a stack of books with those pretty decorative covers? fine again

he probably gets a bit tipsy on mulled wine so be prepared to hear a silly yet lengthy love confession before bed

falls asleep before midnight but he's gonna make up for it in the morning if you catch my drift

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

sweet baby's so anxious at first

he's never celebrated christmas before so he doesn't really know what to do. this whole idea is so new to him but he can't deny he loves spending time with you decorating the house

Sigma wants to try any tradition you may have; baking winter themed cookies, making crackers, watching a movie marathon

when it comes to gifts he doesn't really know what to get you so he ends up buying multiple things he thinks you'd like and he's so happy when you tell him you like them

cuddles cuddles cuddles all evening under a cushy blanket with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands

he'd look so cute wearing one of those reindeer headbands

if it's snowing, take him slow dancing in the snow or on a walk around town. he's gonna love the pretty christmas lights

[iloveslllycatss]

RUNAWAY

— pairing : post naruto vs sasuke fight!sasuke uchiha x fem!reader  — genre : angst , fluff — summary : sasukes always seen the worst in everything, even you. and when he realizes all the hurt he’s caused for you, his word crashes (again) — a/n : i love my man and i love kanye west. LISTEN TO RUNAWAY BY KANYE WEST! (lyrics not in order, i picked the ones that go most with what’s happening) bold + italics is lyrics NOT PROOFREAD.

SASUKES ALWAYS despised everything. but never you. 

at the beginning, he mistook his love for hate, always complaining about you to himself, yet always willing to protect you. he always pointed out your faults, always thinking about himself. but you? you always prioritized him. he was the reason of your existence, the reason you kept living. 

now that sasuke was back, he had apologized to you for his past, to everyone. his past was something he wanted to forget. he wanted to be better. for himself, for you. but after the two of you got together, it seemed like he only saw the worst in everything. it felt like he wasn’t even interested in you. but you dealt with it, your biggest fear being the possibility of him leaving. you had grown attached to him.

he knew this, of course. he knew you couldn’t leave, and that you wouldn’t even if you had the chance. he knew he was hurting you. sasuke always noticed that look on your face when he said something wrong. he noticed the way you’d look at him with those eyes, the look on your face filled with hurt and disappointment, but you’d quickly conceal your feelings when you saw him. he noticed how you’d always hide how you felt, just so you wouldn’t burden him.

he felt guilty. guilty for the fact he’d hurt you without even trying. for him, it was like a reflex. he unconsciously pushed you away all the time, always keeping that cold, emotionless look on his face, as if he didn’t even care. but he did. and he knew it was getting to you.

and i always find, yeah i always find something wrong, you’ve been putting up with my shit just way too long

he tried to hold back his cruel words, he did. but he’d always end up pushing you away. saying things like ‘you’re annoying’ or ‘shut up’, he never wanted to say those things, they just kinda came out, he’d mutter a small ‘sorry’ after he’d say it, but it still hurt. and he didn’t know how to fix it.

im so gifted at finding what i don’t like the most

you couldn’t remember the last time sasuke told you he loved you, or the last time he’s initiated affection with you. you’d always initiate affection, hugging him and kissing his cheek, he liked it. but sometimes it was a little too much, so he’d lash out, his tone would be cold, and he’d tell u to stop smothering him, or that you were being clingy. he didn’t mean it, of course. he just didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you. he saw himself as a monster, especially when you’d give him that look again. he had hurt you, and he didn’t know how to stop.

you’d grow a little distant after that happened, cutting down on how much affection you’d give him, even if you craved it. you had stopped talking to him as much too.

you always tried to be perfect for him, always willing to change yourself for him. it was always about him. you put his opinion before yours, his feelings before yours, his wants before yours. you couldn’t help it. you loved him with every cell in your body, and you didn’t want him to get bored of you one day and leave.

when sasuke would get angry and he’d come home, he didn’t bother hiding it. his eyes low and cold. his glare piercing into the back of your head, and you felt it. you could feel how pissed he was from just standing by him, the only problem? he’d take it out on you. 

he wouldn’t raise his hand at you or anything, he wouldn’t dream of it. he wouldn’t yell, either. he’d just give you that look of hatred and disgust. not because he felt that way towards you, but because his mind was going crazy at the thought of whatever had pissed him off. when he’d speak to you, he’d blame you for whatever he was mad at, but he’d do it subtly. he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t help it. sasuke didn’t know how to control his anger without taking it out on someone or pushing them away and keeping it to himself.

and i just blame everything on you, atleast you know that’s what i’m good at

after he’d calm down, he would apologize, first thing when he saw you. his voice would be low and he’d avoid your eyes, keeping an even tone with you. his breathing would be calm, and steady. and you’d forgive him right away, like you always do.

and i always find , yeah i always find , yeah i always find something wrong.

you’ve been putting up with my shit just way too long.

i’m so gifted at finding what i don’t like the most.

so i think it’s time for us, to have a toast.

what really got to him, was when he saw you curled up on the bed at night one day when he got back from a mission. he saw you hugging yourself, under the covers in the dark bedroom. you looked peaceful yet bothered. your sleep wasn’t a good one, and it showed. he felt so guilty for how he’s been treating you. he wanted to be better. he wanted to show you he could be a good boyfriend.

he showered and got dressed, laying next to you on the bed after, he hesitated. only for a little bit, before he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. it startled you a little, you woke up, your vision blurred and your voice drowsy

“sasuke..?” you asked, your voice was low, almost a whisper. you were confused by the sudden affection. but not complaining though, you had wanted this the whole time. and the first words that came out of his mouth surprised you.

“…… im sorry, y/n.” he mutters, quietly. he needed this. just as much as you did.

baby i got a plan, runaway as fast as you can.

his apology made your heart melt. you shifted a little, turning around to face him as he held you. “it’s okay, sasuke. it’ll always be okay” you say, quietly but sweetly. your voice like honey to him. he couldn’t get enough of it.

“.. i don’t understand….. , why you stayed with me for so long , even though i’m always hurting you.” he mutters again, his voice faint. his tone even, and his grip on you tightens.

runaway from me, baby …… run away,

runaway from me, baby …… run away.

when it starts to get crazy,  why can't she just, run away?

baby, I got a plan, runaway as fast as you can..

you stayed quiet, his words hit close to home for you. you didn’t know why you stayed. for you, it was like you just couldnt leave. you didn’t know if you could handle living without him. especially considering all the times you thought you had lost him. you loved him. more than anything. 

you understood why he treated you like that, he’s never been with anyone else, he didn’t know how to act in a relationship. but he was gonna try to be better, for your sake. he’s never been much of a romantic, he didn’t know how or what to do to make you feel good (not sexually u dirty mf 🤓). he was scared you’d leave him. he didn’t know how he’d manage without you. you were the calm to his storm. he couldn’t imagine it. he didn’t want to be with anyone else. just you.

never was much of a romantic, i could never take the intimacy ;

and I know it did damage, cause the look in your eyes is killin me

i guess then you at an advantage, cause you could blame me for everything ;

and I don't know how I'ma manage, if one day you just up and leave.

…

“i love you, sasuke. i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” you murmur, engulfed in his warmth. your voice was quiet, and only truth was told. “i’m not going anywhere, ever.” you say, reassuring him. 

but when you said those words, 3 words, 8 letters. his eyes widened. he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe that you loved him. even after everything he’s put you through. his grip on you only tightens. he’s scared to let you go, scared to lose you if he does. he hesitates a little,

“…….. i love you too. i’m sorry.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, and you just turn your head up at him and press your lips to his jawline softly, a small  show of affection to reassure him some more.

he was gonna try for you. whatever it took, he would do it.

he just wanted to be perfect. for you.

© spiderruna 2023 , no swiping guys

[howtodrawyourdragon]

I'm gonna say it; Hiccup did nothing wrong. We're treating him as the biggest problem of THW when literally his worst crime in is somehow losing his freckles and that's not even something he has control over. Oh and that kind of incredibly stupid plan of literally moving an entire people by going "let's just fly straight until we hit something :) even though I, Hiccup Haddock, somehow don't believe the world is round."

The entire rest of the movie is everyone else around him being horrible and out of character.

Berk is a mess in the beginning of the movie, yes. But it was also just a year ago that his father was horribly murdered in front of him because Draco Bloodyfist-Or-Whatever decided to sent his mind controled best friend after him. Everybody expects Hiccup to be put together and solve all problems immediately and remain a Dragon Rider when he should be buying a therapist a mansion and a yacht with all those billed sessions.

Then there is being told more than once that he's putting Astrid second when he literally isn't. And told he should meet her standard.s

There is all that stuff about how he's been a horrible pet owner to Toothless when he had legitimate and real fears about Toothless not making it out in wild and about the Light Fury turning on him and about him not coming back. (Like... he's a disabled dragon, for Gods' sake??? Toothless will literally NOT make it without human intervention)

He's called out for not embracing change when his name was literally synonymous with change before THW and every bit of change he proposes in the movie is met with backlash unless Astrid, their not-chief, says it's okay.

His mother, who abandoned him for 20 and came home with him after the traumatic loss of his father spends most of the movie not being the mother she promised him to be in the second movie and even advocated for the Riders to be less dependent on dragons when she was with dragons for the entirety of those 20 years.

And then there is all the bullying. Making fun of his voice, telling him- a disabled person- to LOSE THE LIMP, telling him he's not worthy of Astrid the warrior goddess (completely forgetting how Hiccup is both parts warrior and diplomat in at least the previous two movies, let alone the movies and the shows) and these three things are all said by Tuffnut! "Forgets he has a sister in THW" Tuffnut!

And let's not forget Snotlout's "who died and made you chief?!" when Snotlout was literally crying at Stoick's funeral. And then proceeds to hit on the dead man's wife and his best friend's mother while also putting said best friend down!

Like... none of the things said to him in the first movie were as bad as some of the things said in THW.

The entire movie is also basically Hiccup being pulled from one direction to the other.

It's "You're a bad chief because you're not changing anything" yet it's also "how dare you make this change!"

It's "you should step up as chief" yet it's also "we will only listen if Astrid says it's good."

It's "you were literally keeping Toothless captive for 6 years :/" yet it's also "Uuuhhh, time to cut the umbilical cord, don't you think? 🙄"

It's "you let Toothless go free, what did you expect?" yet also "uh, you let him go???"

It's "you are literally nothing without Toothless, sorry :/" yet it's also "Toothless only showed you what was already inside."

It's "you should put Astrid first for once" yet it's also "I, Hiccup, will literally listen to every single word you, Astrid, says even if it's hurtful."

It's "I, Astrid, will suggest to you, Hiccup, that we go find Toothless in the hidden world" yet it's also "I, Astrid, will blame you, Hiccup, for deciding to go to the Hidden World, making the Light Fury, who you have no control over, to follow us back home"

It's "hey man, can you help me with this dragon tail? :(" yet it's also "I will literally not listen to you when I'm about to break this branch that I and the dragon tail are on."

I mean, my God! I'd sent the dragons away if I had to listen to that for the past year after I watched my father die a gruesome death.

And that's not even the worst part. The worst part is Toothless abandoning Hiccup for the most shallow reason there is; chasing dragon tail that doesn't even want anything to do with him unless he does something that impresses her when he's the king of the dragons.

So yeah, probably an unpopular opinion, but besides one bad plan, Hiccup did nothing wrong besides listen to what all the people around him were saying, no matter how much they contradict themselves.

Really, what he needs is a hug. A Real one. :(

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.2. PLANTS.

“there’s a blue light, in my best friend’s room. there’s a blue light in his eyes.” “he sits in the waiting room. each chair has its own arms. they’re nimble and plastic, and the material of the cushions is a scratchy green. they’re the type you would find in a conference room, and he can’t decide if he likes them or not. he feels too big for the small room, but he likes the song he can hear playing from a small speaker. it took him a little bit to find it, and he constantly turned his head, trying to find where he could hear it the loudest. “there’s a ship that sails by my window.” there. he sees it on the little oak ladder shelf to his right. it’s a small white circle, and he wouldn’t have thought it to be a speaker if not for the grated cover on the front and the soft music it was playing: “i think it’s sailing. miles crashing me by. crashing me by.”

content warnings: mention of a scar (nothing about where it came from, i was thinking a bicycle accident before i decided to leave it up to interpretation), mention of "promising to stay alive", it's a therapy session so it's a free for all. lmk if i missed anything

he’s not sure he’s in the right place. maybe he missed a sign on his way in that'd tell him where to go or who he was seeing, but he'd wandered down a hall and ended up in a waiting room that had felt right initially. but now he’s wondering; he’s the only one in this tiny room, and he hasn’t seen anyone pass by. it’s silent, besides the small hum of music.

then he hears two muffled voices of laughter come from the wall behind him, and the shuffle of footsteps nearing the door to his left. he’ll find out where he is soon enough, he supposes.

the door knob clicks and creaks, automatically grabbing his attention as he looks toward the source of the noise. a girl who appears to be in her late teens or early adulthood walks out first, whom he’s never seen in his life, but he recognizes the second girl that walks out.

of course he does, how could he not?

he saw her nearly if not everyday of his life when they were kids, all the way up until their first year in high school, where gradually he started to see her less and less until he never saw her. she disappeared from the school halls and the streets they used to walk down together. he knew she was still there, somewhere, but he could never find her. they’re both frozen now, staring at each other. whoever walked out before her seems to get the message and bows slightly before taking her leave.

he’s not even sure what to say. the first words that come to mind are ‘i’m sorry.’

for what? leaving her? watching her leave and not stopping her? the next thing that comes to mind is ‘what even happened between us? i missed you.’ 

of course he fucking missed her, although it feels like he's just now fully realizing it. she had been nearly as important to him as volleyball, and it had been nice to have something in his life not connected to the sport. he loved the sport, he truly did, and it was his biggest priority when he was younger, but now he was starting to feel that passion wane, as much as he hated to admit it. if he hoped to get anything out of talking about this problem with someone, it was that he’d be able to enjoy the sport again. and maybe it’d be like old times. maybe she would be the center of gravity he revolved around again, being the anchor that keeps him upright even when times got rough. 

she felt sick, seeing him again. she had been wishing to see him again for so long, and yet apparently, in reality, she wasn’t ready to see him again. her thoughts immediately went to her appearance, and how she had looked and acted, seeing off her last client. and, most importantly, why was he here? why was she seeing him here of all places?

then it clicks. atsumu's "friend."

of course.

of course he would pull something like this.

her brain immediately goes on autopilot, because she can’t stand there all day gawking at the man who hasn’t ever left her mind. not since she first met him. not since they stopped talking to each other. not even nine years later, after the night she cried alone in her bed when she finally accepted the truth that he didn't care about her, and she’d never see him again. “om– sakusa. hi. good to see you. why don’t you come in?”

she retreats back into her office, quickly setting a pillow back up on the nearby couch in a futile attempt to tidy up the room before she retreats to her own seat.

he follow her in without a word, eyes taking in the interior of her room. he likes it more than the waiting room. there’s a wide window taking up most of the wall in front of him, displaying the sight of a more rural side of osaka. it took a train ride and a bit of a walk to get here, but seeing this view, he decides maybe it was worth it. maybe more walks in open spaces was actually all he needed to feel better.

or maybe all he needed was her presence.

she sits in a chair across from the one he’s in. there’s a small glass coffee table between them with a group of small succulents centered atop it and the decoration surprises him. for as long as he's known her, she always somehow managed to kill every bunch of flowers he gave her within a few days. his grandma would buy him a small bouquet after some of his volleyball games when he was younger and he never wanted them. he'd give them to her instead because she loved plants, despite never being able to keep them alive.

but it’s obvious from the number of pots lining her windowsill that she’s changed. he wants to bring it up, but he’s not sure what she would think. he doesn’t even know what she’s thinking about now.

it’s silent between them. the tension is suffocating. he’s not looking at her, but she can’t tear her eyes away from him. she’s never thought about how she’s grown, but looking at him now, it feels strange; like there’s a younger version of herself inside of her that can still see right through the man across from her, into the kid in him. but they’ve both matured, both locked that childish wonder behind many walls in their hearts now.

she hasn’t seen him since their first year in high school. of course, she's seen his face in print and on screens, but it was much different in person. compared to the image her eyes would always remember, of a boy with brighter eyes, filled with aspiration, always looking towards the future, the edges of his lips curved ever so slightly into a confident smile whenever he had his mask off–now he just looked tired. he had the same hooded eyes as always, yet they looked duller, and perhaps there were darker bags under them. his lips were permanently pressed into a thin line, with no traces of a smile anywhere. his frame was larger from years of hard work, yet he was downplaying it with his posture, shoulders curved and head held grim and low. his hands were long, but worn and calloused, and his legs were restless, nothing like the calm and still body that she used to stand side by side with.

“so,” she breaks the silence, knowing they’ll have to talk eventually. she’s playing with her own fingers nervously, feeling like the break of silence is a crime. she's not ready to talk to him, but maybe if she remains passive and neutral towards him, he’ll act the same way back, and they won’t have to think about how much they really know about each other–that she could still tell him exactly how many moles line his arms, and he could tell her about the scar on her upper thigh. “you made an appointment with me?”

“did you know it was me? you agreed to see me even though you knew it was me?” they’re the first words he’s said to her in years and they come out words brashfully, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth before he can even process what he’s just said.

her eyes are soft, while his are sharper and bolder. the way they droop gives her a safe, welcoming appearance as if promising that she can keep a secret, that she will listen without judging, and that he'll feel better after he talks to her. but her brows furrow in hurt, and he sees the glassy look in her eyes after his words. “i didn’t know it was you. i see atsumu all the time and he asked if i’d be willing to see one of his friends and i said of course. he said 'his friend' was on the fence about therapy so we just agreed that if he–you–wanted to see me more, we could figure that out later. i had no idea who you were–and even if i knew i did, is there something wrong with that? did i do something wrong?–” she clamps her lips shut, realizing she's said too much. she lets out a quiet sigh to restart before smoothing the fabric of her pants, “i’m sorry. that’s unprofessional of me. forget i said that last part. but i mean– did he not tell you who you were seeing? he just told you to show up here?”

he doesn’t like her being professional. he misses her smile. not the one she gave to the client she saw out before she told him to follow her in; the one that she would give him when they were together and he said something she found amusing. he doesn’t like what he said to her, and he digs his nails into his palms, regretting how this meeting has turned so sour, all because of him. “no. he didn’t,” he says, and he realizes his voice is still cold. he should add something else: “but there’s nothing wrong with that. it’s good to see you.”

he means what he says, but her frown remains, and she looks at him like she doesn’t believe him. she doesn't say anything in response, instead pulling her laptop from a nearby table onto her lap. “okay. well, you came here for a reason. what’s been going on? you can start from as far back as you want. this first meeting will serve as an introduction to both of us, so that you can get a feel for how i do things and so that i can understand what you’re going through, and how i can best help you.”

she’s cutting off any chance they have to look at each other as friends anymore, and he hates that, but there’s no way out of this spot she’s cornered him into, so he does what she asks. he tells her of the day he was benched, and how it's affected him ever since, leading to thought spirals and feelings that have been building up every day, which he's been choosing to shove down instead of getting out. 

“would you consider writing down your thoughts, then? either in a notes app or with actual pen and paper, either one works. but the action serves as a way to clear your mind. you can do it whenever you’d like, whether that be when you first wake up, at the end of the day, or even in the middle of the day. the point is to write down any thoughts you have that are stressing you out, like all the things you feel that you need to get done. you write them down so that you're able to take those thoughts out of your mind and put them somewhere instead of letting them stay stuck in there forever, bothering you and weighing you down even long after you’ve forgotten what it is you’re stressing about.”

she suggests things and reiterates some of the points he makes ever so often. the way she takes a backseat in the conversation, letting him do most of the thinking and talking, makes it easy for him to pretend he hasn’t known her for years, but he doesn’t want to think of her that way. he finds himself looking around her room as she talks, taking in all the small details. maybe on the train ride home, he'll take into consideration what she's just suggested and write down what he thinks of her office. 

her place is warm and inviting, and the more he looks at it, the more he thinks that it’s so her. from the mute, natural colors of the furniture that she’s meticulously picked out, the way she’s neatly organized a stack of papers on a desk nearby, along the same wall as the window to his side looking out to a verdant landscape– he even thinks about the books he saw on the shelf outside in her waiting room. he had recognized some of those books, and yet he hadn’t pieced together why he had such a nostalgic, longing, feeling in his chest. 

it was because it was her. 

perhaps the plants are what threw him off. the plants. again with the plants. he thinks about the daisies planted outside her house, that he passed every time he visited. he remembers seeing her mother out there, using a hose to water their flowers while she sat on the porch, waiting for him. she would complain to him about the fact that her mother wouldn’t let her help with the garden work, because of her “cursed black thumb” and the way her mother scolded her, hearing her daughter complain about her while she could still hear her.

she’s giving him the chance to pretend that they’re nothing more than a therapist and a client meeting for the first time, but he wants to decline the offer. he wants to ask her about what’s going on in her life, and he thinks maybe that would help with his own struggles, too; if he could hear about what she’s been doing with her life. he thinks it would help to go out for late dinners with her again, spend nights over at each other’s places again, and to just talk to her normally again. seeing her face once more after so long, he can’t look away. being in her presence now, sitting in a room filled with her heart, he feels a weight lift from the back of his head that he hasn’t been able to get rid of for so long. maybe she’s what he’s been missing this whole time.

his roommates know him well, atsumu knows him best, but none of them compare to her. nothing compares to the memories flowing through his head, of the late nights they spent out by the fire pit in her backyard, of nights spent in each other’s rooms, laughing and sharing stories, of the time her mother pulled out a foldable, stiff, scratchy bed stand for him to sleep on at their first sleepover when her mother wasn’t yet sure of him. he had tossed and turned around restlessly on that bedstand. when she asked him what was wrong, he told her he was homesick, and she let him sleep with her in her bed. nothing compared to the conversations they had late on his bedroom floor, where she slept beside him when it had become too weird for them to sleep in the same bed. nothing compared to the promises to stay together or to stay alive. and yet he’d broken that first promise.

he was telling her now about everything that was going on in his life, every thought he was having, but he wanted to just stop and say, “you already know this, don’t you?” because they were the same thoughts that had plagued him for years. the obsessions and compulsions that bothered him at all times, the strangling feeling in his chest–she’d heard all of this before.

but that silver laptop on her lap seems to be a wall between them, preventing them from being close like they were before. she keeps typing away, nodding, flicking her eyes up to meet his ever so often, but never too long for him to be able to read anything about them.

the time goes by faster than he thinks, and an hour has passed before he knows it. he wouldn’t have noticed if they had gone on for even longer than an hour, but she cuts them short when she puts that cursed computer to the side and straightens out her legs, “well, i would be open to meeting with you more, sakusa. everything you've told me today sounds like a lot, and i think it would be beneficial for you to have some extra support while balancing such a taxing career, but it’s your decision. the way i work, the first meeting is always free since it's just a warmup. if you want to see me again, your insurance should cover the majority of the cost. i’ll write down my email for you so that you contact me if you’d like to make another appointment and then i’ll walk you out.” she gets straight to the point, standing up and finding a stray sticky note to scribble something down on before walking towards the door like she’s eager to have him out of her space.

there’s so much he wants to say:

“call me omi, like you used to.”

“i still have your number saved, can i text you instead?”

“of course i want to see you again. and not just in this setting. but as friends.”

but he knows it’s too early to say any of that. he’s stuck in his head again, pulling at the fabric at his pants before he realizes she’s waiting on him. the door is open, and she wants him to leave. “okay,” he says quietly. “thank you for listening to me. i’ll think about it and email you if i decide i want to see you again.”

inside his head, something in him feels more triumphant, like he’s won control of the situation again. it’s his decision if he wants to see her again; he decides if she sees him again.

but in his chest, something twists. he wants her to say it back, that she wants to see him again. that it was good to see him again. but of course she won’t say that. he’s the client.

he wishes she would say something. anything. just one thing that’s not “professional,” or whatever she calls it.

“sounds good. if you send an email, just include what your availability is and i’ll tell you mine,” she says, holding out the note for him to grab as he passes by her. he feels lightheaded, and he has to force himself to keep walking, ignoring the way his body automatically pulls himself towards her.

“and sakusa,” she calls out, making him lose any sense of control he had left. he never could resist her, could he? whenever she asked him to sneak out of the house or buy her something to eat. 

he freezes in his steps and looks back at her. he’s not sure what his face looks like; if his eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape, and it’s obvious that he’s hoping she’ll say what he wants her to. or maybe his face is stern and apathetic, and he’ll shun her away like he did before.

“it sounds like you’ve made it really far. you’ve made a name for yourself, and you’re working towards your dreams. that’s good. you’re doing good,” she has a small smile on her face as she stands facing him, half hiding behind her wooden door. it’s nothing like the wide smiles she would give as his ears rang with her laughter, but maybe this one was even better. it’s a smile that says “maybe we can be more. maybe be can try again."

he’s at a loss for words, still looking at her. maybe it’s stupid and embarrassing, but he really hopes his face is expressive instead of something emotionless and unreadable. 

because he takes too long to respond, and suddenly the door is shut in his face, leaving him in her tiny square waiting room, painfully aware of how alone he is.

again.

.

.

.

" the mind forgets, but the heart always remembers. "

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

sorry for any repetition!! i tried to do it three times since that's a grammar thing i think <3

slightly more light hearted next chapter! thank u for reading <3

gonna put little notes at the end of the chapter from omi, just detailing his thoughts like y/n suggested him to do <3

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[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: Escapades

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: everyone’s favorite grid family takes on their biggest challenge yet … an escape room

Series Masterlist

“Alright, who thought it would be a good idea to lock a bunch of F1 drivers in a room and expect them to work together to get out?” Charles grumbles, eyeing the cryptic clues scattered around the dimly lit space.

George smirks, picking up a coded message. “Well you’ve had plenty of practice trying to decipher Ferrari’s strategy lately, so maybe you’ve got an advantage here?”

The room erupts in laughter as Charles feigns a wounded expression. “Low blow, George! Do I not suffer enough already?”

Lando, fidgeting with what looks like an ancient artifact, suddenly blurts out, “Do you think this is like a button or something?” Before anyone can respond, there’s an audible snap and the artifact falls apart in his hands.

“Seriously, Lando?” Max exclaims, shaking his head in amusement. “First my trophy, now this? Hands off everything, please!”

You chuckle, patting Lando’s back consolingly. “It’s alright. Maybe breaking things is part of the puzzle?”

Lance, busy trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, adds, “At this rate, we’re never getting out of here.”

Mick, focusing on a puzzle piece, comments, “We’ve only got an hour, guys. Let’s get serious.”

Sebastian begins delegating. “Alright, George and Max, you handle the codes. Mick, Charles, focus on the physical puzzles. Lance, Lando — just ... try not to break anything else.”

As the room buzzes with activity, you can’t help but think that this is one of the best ideas you’ve had in a while. It’s hilarious watching these fiercely competitive drivers work together in a situation that doesn’t involve cars and tracks.

After a series of (mostly) successful problem-solving attempts, a loud buzzer sounds, indicating you’re out of time. The doors swing open, revealing a grinning staff member.

“You were only one clue away!” she exclaims, clapping. “Not bad for a first attempt!”

Max looks around the room, a smirk forming. “Well, if Lando didn’t break that artifact, maybe we would’ve made it.”

Lando throws his hands up defensively. “Hey! I added character to the room.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, making their way out. Another day, another adventure — this one off the track.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastian mutters, amusement evident in his eyes, as he steps into the living room. There are strings hanging from the ceiling, makeshift locks on the furniture, and “cryptic” clues pinned everywhere, like Look UNDER the couch, accompanied by a not-so-subtle arrow pointing downwards.

You, equally surprised and amused, chuckle. “What in the world happened here?”

Charles steps forward, barely containing his laughter. “Welcome to the Grand Prix Escape Room! Guaranteed to be at least 90% more escape-able than the one we failed at.”

George adds, pointing to a padlocked fridge, “I did the food clues. Trust me, they’re the most challenging.”

Max chimes in, “And Lando ... well, we didn’t let him touch anything breakable this time.”

Lando mock-pouts, “One little accident and suddenly I’m the family menace.”

Lance hands you a paper that reads The KEY to success is WHERE you eat BREAKFAST. He grins, “That’s my contribution. Top tier clue, right?”

Mick has a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I suggest you look in very obvious places. We wouldn’t want this to be too hard.”

As you and Sebastian navigate through the hilariously straightforward challenges — like the “hidden” key taped directly next to the padlocked fridge or the note on the oven saying THIS IS NOT A CLUE, just wanted to remind you we have pie — it becomes clear that this isn’t about the challenge at all.

It’s about laughter, family, and the simple joy of being together.

After an entertaining fifteen minutes, which involves Sebastian dramatically pretending to struggle with a code that's simply “1234,” you successfully escape.

Mick raises a toast with room temperature champagne (they forgot to place it in the fridge before it was padlocked), “To the greatest escape artists in the world!”

You laugh, “And to the best, most creative grid kids in the universe!”

***

You wake up to the soft chimes of your alarm, stretching lazily before noticing an envelope on your bedside table. Scrawled on it in mismatched rainbow crayons is Mission: Breakfast Heist.

Opening the note, you read:

Dear Y/N and Seb,

Your breakfast has been stolen! To get it back, follow the clues and embark on a thrilling adventure. Also, no cheating by ordering takeout!

The Breakfast Bandits (aka your grid kids)

Amused, you head downstairs, following a trail of strategically placed toast crumbs. In the kitchen, you find another note taped to the coffee machine: To get your morning brew, tell us a joke that’s new!

Sebastian, rubbing sleep from his eyes, joins you and declares, “Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged!” Mick appears from behind you, making both of you jump, and hands you two cups of coffee before backing away silently.

Chuckling, you move on to find that on the fridge, instead of a padlock, there’s a touchpad with a question on its digital display: What’s hot yet cool at the same time?

You ponder it for a moment, thinking of all the possible answers. Sebastian, catching on to the playful challenge set by the grid kids, smirks and says, “It’s the Iceman, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, with you playfully nudging Sebastian, “I always knew you thought Kimi was hot.”

Entering K-I-M-I on the touchpad, the fridge beeps in agreement and swings open, revealing a lavish breakfast spread and a note that reads: Breakfast is served! We might have kept it under lock and key but only to make it special. Enjoy!

From the doorway, the “Breakfast Bandits” applaud, their faces beaming with mischief.

Lance grins, “Took you long enough! And Seb, never knew you had a thing for Kimi.”

Charles joins in the teasing, “Seems like there are still some secrets in the paddock!”

Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes, “At least my secret doesn’t involve singing into a hairbrush every night before bed.”

Charles blushes as the room bursts into laughter. “Who told you about that?” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Lando, who’s trying hard (and failing miserably) to stifle his giggles.

Lando attempts to defend himself through his laughter, “It wasn’t me! But if we’re confessing, who knew that Seb’s haircare routine involved more products than all of ours combined?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Gotta keep the locks looking good, don’t I?”

Max interjects, “Well, if we’re on the topic of secrets, who wants to bet on how many stuffed animals Lando has on his bed?”

Lando gasps dramatically, “Betrayed by my own brothers! Next time, I’m hiding them all in George’s room!”

[lanawinterscigarettes]

How do you think James (Wilson) would react to reader wanting to wait until marriage to have sex? Like he's pretty understanding and respectful but let's face it he's also kind of a man whore

saying he's "kind of" a man whore is a bit of an understatement but I absolutely agree

How James Wilson would react to the reader wanting to wait until marriage to have sex

Warnings: nothing explicitly nsfw but obviously sex is discussed/mentioned a lot given the subject matter

He'd be a little taken back at first to be honest, probably asking you some questions on why you want to wait (is it because of religion, etc.) but not pushing the subject if you don't want to talk about it

I think it would all depend on how long you planned on dating or being engaged first. Six to twelve months? No problem. Longer than a year, though, and his resolve would begin to crack some

Obviously he's very respectful and considerate of your boundaries and things like that, but he's also no doubt a manwhore, so he has a lot of internal battles on what he should do

Something else to consider is what exactly you'd meant when you said you wanted to wait to have sex. Are you abstaining from it altogether, or are there certain loopholes or exceptions to the rule?

Wilson would feel a little weird asking you a question like that, even if you're dating. He doesn't want to say or do any inappropriate or that might make you uncomfortable

If you were to bring it up first, however, then he'd certainly be relieved to be able to talk about it without having to start the conversation himself

He gives you the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes ever when he asks whether or not you'd be okay with touching and things like that as long as they don't end in sex

If you say no then he won't bring it up again, but if you say yes then he'll want to know more about your boundaries on it and just how much you'd be comfortable with/how far you'd be willing to go

The two of you probably do end up getting married because Wilson really does love you a lot and wants to be with you (and yeah maybe it's partially because he wants to have sex with you, but he'd never say that out loud)

If anything, not having "proper" sex before your wedding night only made him even more excited to finally get to go all the way with you once the time came

When he wakes up the next morning to find you sleeping next to him in the bed of your honeymoon suite, he realizes that despite the wait you definitely made it worthwhile

End notes: I'd planned on not posting this until Monday but I just couldn't wait any longer so y'all get it a little early

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[yngtort]

—Playboy aesthetic

chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

NSFW ★

──────────

XFem!reader : in which you just can’t stay out of that damn playboys bed. Mdni - emotional manipulation - drunk sex - breading

song rec : playboy - exo

“There’s no need to tell me, let’s just leave it as is. Why are you worried?” One of exos greatest hits, play boy, played through the party. crowds of people swaying together to the beat of the song, hips bumping and hands exploring.

You watch from the sidelines, held back by vines like the flower you’re pretending to be. usually, you’d be dancing along with everyone else. but today, you don’t have the energy. Just wanna stay back and observe with a half empty, half full red cup in your hands.

It's fun watching people tumble over each other. Just to get back up and start busting an off beat move again. You snicker in your spot before bringing the cup to your lips.

Said cup blocks your vision for a second as you down the nectar it holds. When it comes down, your eyes widen as a familiar smile greets you.

“Having fun, are we?” his voice initiates the biggest eyeroll you can muster.

Clad in all black and leather stood the most sleazy man you have ever encountered at these parties. a man with pillow skills that could qualify him as a professional gigolo. He’s also the man you tend to wake up next to in the morning. “What do you want, christopher?”

One of his brows shoots up at the attitude. But it quickly falls as his lips stretch into a grin and his arms open defensively.

“cmon, baby. Don’t be like that.” He says, taking a step forward. His hands finds its usual place at your hips, thumbs playing with the loops of your low rise pants. “you know you love my company.”

You scoff, “as if.” Fully annoyed that he’s standing here with his national anthem playing in the background. He’s a fucking playboy, one that takes pride in it too.

you knew this when you started messing around with him. You told yourself that this was all just for shits, giggles, and some good head. But no— you’re so naive, believing every I love you he muttered from above. now you’re wrapped around his finger. Stupidly in love with this dumb, lying, conniving, asshole-

“go and play around with someone else. I’m not in the mood for this.” you say, pushing at his chest but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to play with anyone else,” Chris told, taking your hand that’s wedged between you and placing a kiss against your palm, “I told you that when you tried to break things off last time. I want you only.”

Lies. His words makes your heart flutter, but you know it’s all lies. “But I don’t want you, Chris.” You pull your hand back.

“And yet you’re at one of my parties?” Chris tuts his head to the side cockily and you roll your eyes again.

“Jisung wanted me to come, so I came.”

“since when did you cum on command?”his lips curled, “Learned some new tricks while i away, huh?”

you slapped his shoulder, “fuck you.”

“that’s what I’m trying to get you to do, but you’re being so stubborn.” He said before leaning in close, nose brushing against yours.

“C’mon babygirl, I miss you.” You turn your head away from him not saying a word and Chris chuckled.

he places a kiss on your cheek, “y’know if you continue to reject me like this, it’ll only make me want you more.”

“Sounds like a personal problem then.” You respond, still not meeting his gaze which is starting to piss Chris off more than he thought it would.

“I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong,”

A small sigh leaves your lips before you face him again, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what’s the issue?” “I’m bored.”

“Bored?” Chris mimicked with a scoff, “screaming my name into your pillow is boring?”

“That’s not-“ he cuts you off by pulling you close, empty cup dropping out your hand and rolling out into the crowd.

“It’s not what?” he bites, eyes burning into yours. “Don’t act like you didn’t love every second. Like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

“Chris. I told you, im done with all this.” you said, turning your head again.

“and I told you,” Chris immediately grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “it’s not over until I say so.”

Before you can even respond his lips are on yours, tongue swiftly breaking past your teeth without any problem. you squeak at the sudden invasion, hands balled into fist as they beat at his chest in protest.

Chris eats up each weak punch, until your hands finally give up and clutch onto his jacket, pulling him closer because— fuck he’s such a good kisser.

making out against the wall, your biggest weakness. Pressed up together, one of his thighs between your legs while a free hand is on your neck— the other one kneading your waist.

your mind is absolutely screaming at you to push him away. You’re supposed to be standing on business. He can’t keep toying with you like this, fucking you like he loves you just to end up in the bed of another woman the next day.

“Don’t allow him to play you, y/n. Stand up girl!” Your friends would preach to you over and over.

But right now, their voices are silenced— muffled out by the damning desire and need that coats your body as Chris picks you up. Lips still locked on yours, he walked you away from the party, and deeper into the hallways of the frat.

You know exactly where you’re going, a swift left turn and a straight walk to his room. You’ve been taken here a lot, in this position too. Fingers laced in his curly locks as he opens up the door and walks you to his bed.

When he places you down, chris breaks the kiss. “Are you done being a brat yet? or do you need more convincing?” He asks, voice at the lowest octave you’ve ever heard from him.

“Just shut up ‘n fuck me already,” your demand is everything Chris expected. such dirty words leaving a pretty mouth like yours was enough to get his length straining against his pants.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” He says before ridding himself of his clothes. you of course do the same. Shirt comes off with ease but there’s a bit of a struggle with those tight jeans you decided to stuff yourself into.

Chris helps, “lift.” He says and your hips are off the mattress. He pulls them off with a few tugs, your underwear sliding down as bonus.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” the older sucks in a breath, seemingly in awe as he spreads your legs. Your cunt glistened, visibly dripping by how turned on you are. “All this for me?”

“t-that’s just because it’s been a while,” you defended, hands going down to cover it shyly.

“Hasn’t it?” he chuckled before placing his palm on top of yours. Chris guides your fingers to your hole, instructing them inside. “you haven’t even played with it like this?”

You look away embarrassed as you pump yourself in front of him, “no, I couldn’t—“

“reach where I could?” Chris teased, smile wide with pride because he knows how helpless you are without him. those nights after you cut him off were absolute hell. you crying in the darkness of your room after failed attempts at fucking yourself— the way he did.

You needed him so bad.

Chris watches in amusement as your fingers speed up, loud squelching sounds below fill both of your ears. “Chris, p-please.” You beg, eyes pooling with frustrated tears.

“you’re doing perfectly on your own though,”

“not enough,” you cried . “I want you, please, please..”

Chris hummed, listening to your pleas. Before trialing soft kisses down your body until he comes face to your fingers that were still stuffed into your hole. He pulls them out, taking them into his mouth after. your taste coats the buds on his tongue, making him grunt.

With the sample not being enough, he opts for eating you out. he’s so skilled, tongue circling your clit with precision. Your body becomes one with the bed below you as you sink into nothing but undeniable misery and pleasure.

“Like that, yes, fuck” moans tumbled off your lips as your hands sought comfort at your breast, holding and kneading them for that extra stimulation.

Chris wishes you could see how slutty you looked from his angle below. Using his tongue to whore yourself out on his face— right after you were just going on about how bored you were of him? tch, yeah sure.

He pulls back causing you to whine, “shh, babe, you can’t cum so soon. we’re just getting started.”

you watch in a daze as he pulls off his boxers, exposing his hard and big member to your hungry eyes. your involuntarily clench, cunt so needy and ready to be filled up by every inch.

Chris is just as desperate, eagerly placing your legs over his shoulder as he lines up his throbbing dick at your pucker. “you missed me too, didn’t you?” He asked as he pushed in, your walls welcoming him with a tight hug.

“s’much…missed havin you here.” You say, hand pressing against the bulge in your tummy. Chris twitches harshly inside you and could feel it.

just from your words, he could’ve came right then and there.

“I’m gonna fuck you all night,” is the last thing he said before absolutely destroying you. His hips snapped wildly into yours, head board banging against the wall with every thrust. There’s sure to be some cracks in the paint, but that’s tomorrows problem.

Right now, all he’s focused on is the way your breast bounced on impact while you babble out pleas for more.

Chris lets one of your legs fall off his shoulder and leans down to your ear, “now tell me, we’re you really bored of me? Or is there something else you have to say?”

“n-no, wasn’t bored just got too— fuck—“

“Attached? Baby, can’t you see I’m the same way? no one will ever do it for me like you do. You’re mine, yea?” He said, thrust only getting stronger as you fall weak at every word.

he felt the same way you did? is that even possible? You don’t have time to doubt it because he’s ruthlessly pounding into you. “Chris’s, ‘m chris’s” is all you can say.

“that’s right, pretty. All mine.” He whispered delicately, movements becoming more erratic as his dick throbs inside of you, eager to fill you up. “wanna knock you up s’bad.”

Chris pushes himself deeper than before, making sure if he’s gonna come, it’s gonna stick and stay. “you’ll let me do it? Wont you, baby?”

“Please,” and that’s all he needed to hear.

Chris’s cum is thick and there’s a lot of it too. Maybe from going so long without having you underneath had finally caught up to him— he doesn’t know. but the way his body tenses, muscles flexing as he slowly empties his heavy load into you, shows you how much he wanted you.

He pulls you into one more final kiss, lips sloppily slotting with yours as he pins your hips to the mattress. body heavy on top of yours, dick softening inside you as the last traces of pleasure leave him.

“I love you, y/n” he mumbled against your lips, “I’ve always have.”

You believe him for the night because you know in the morning, you'll wake up alone and there will be sticky note that read : “quiet on the way out” left on the nightstand like always.

“that fucking, playboy..”

:)

Tinaytag (comment to be added) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @panjakes @foxinnie8 @inniescandy-01 @luvyev

[myjjongie]

CHAPTER SEVEN.ᐟ ── my biggest fans ever chat !

SYNOPSIS: you and jay have been at each others throats for the whole time you've been enrolled at decelis university. the reason for the rivalry in question? the #1 rank on the academic leaderboard in the university. you went through your whole high school life being #1 on the academic leaderboard. you meet jay, who also had the same upbringing in high school. things then start to turn into a constant battle. leaving you constantly in second place and jay in first place every rank update.

prev | m.list | next

word count; 4241

looking up from my phone after placing it face down on the table. i look over to jake and glare at him. he quickly notices my eyes and flashes a apologetic smile. it’ll take lots of designated driver and paying off food to make me get over this fiasco of a scenario. if someone had told me i was gonna be sitting at a table with jay’s group of friends… i would have laughed in their face and walked away. but here i am, in a scenario i didn’t want any part of…

“okay jake. what the fuck is going on..” irritation heavy in my voice.

“what? i can’t introduce you to my friends?”

i could see the small hesitation on his face as he "introduced" me to his friends.

“i already know about sohee, seunghan, and sunghoon. what need is there for introductions…. and i know they’re friends with jay…”

“hey at least she knows our names. that’s a start.” sunghoon chimed in.

my eyes rolled at his witty remark. i couldn’t help but look over to see sohee have a small pout on his lips. i would be a liar if i didn’t admit sohee was a tiny bit cute, in an endearing way of course. but i had to stand my ground and put my distance between myself and the “enemy”�� jake unfortunately was an exception due to how fond i’ve grown of him but that was besides the point.

“yn. i get that you don’t like jay cause of the academic rankings. but i promise we’re not as bad as him.” seunghan was the one to speak this time. making sure to add air quotations around bad.

my attention turned to seunghan as he had this slight pleading look in his eyes. my brows furrowed as i turned back to sohee to now see him give me puppy eyes. choosing to say no and be mean was harder than it should’ve been in this very moment.

“come on yn. just hang out with us once and see how it goes. obviously with no jay.”

jake was the one to speak now taking my attention away from sohee. the thought was there… but the need to be petty and stand my ground was a bit more. besides if i truly thought about it. sohee and seunghan were just first years so they’re not that big of a liability. the one person here who is truly a problem was sunghoon…

“okay… but what about sunghoon. he’s also jay’s closest friend no?”

i turned to sunghoon who honestly looked indifferent to it all. he looked back at me and just shrugged his shoulders. my eyebrow raised in confusion my face clearly questioning the attitude at the moment.

“honestly. i don’t really care. as long as i get to make fun of jake i’m whatever.”

“what the hell?!”

i softly laughed at the immediate retaliation from jake. i thought about it for a second longer and made up my mind.

“okay… we can have one hang out.”

sohee smiled happily at at response. it seemed as if he heard the best news of his life. before i could say anything more, a familiar yet annoying voice made me ears perk up.

“what is going on here?”

i turned around to be met with someone standing behind me. my smile immediately dropped as i realized who it was.

“hey jay!” there was a slight hesitation in jake’s voice as he took in the scene and how this could look to jay.

“why are you all sitting at a table with yn?”

jay still standing behind me began to ask some real questions.

“uhhhhhhh.” sohee blurted out as he tried to find an excuse to come up with.

“we saw jake sitting with yn and decided to bother them.” sunghoon had spoken up, in the most nonchalant tone i had ever heard.

i looked at sunghoon confused on why he blatantly lied. deciding to not wanna be apart of this any longer, i began to gather my things and stand up.

“well. as much as this was… fun. i’m gonna get going now.”

getting up from the seat i slightly lost my footing. before i could even manage to stumble, a hand had quickly grabbed onto my upper arm.

“hey be careful. you’re always too clumsy you know that.”

softly yanking my arm out of jay’s grasp. i mutter a thank you.

“well i’ll see you guys later.”

before i could practically bolt from the scene. i felt my phone buzz in my pocket. looking at it quickly i see my lockscreen flash a message from heeseung. my face brightened instantly causing a huge smile to appear on my face.

“jake. group chat later look at it!” i said before running away from the table.

“what has her smiling like that?” jay asked.

all jake could do was shrug his shoulders in confusion.

a.note; first written chapter for the smau. the first time i read this and didn’t proof read was not good AT ALL. but i locked in and fixed it up imo. also has been a HUGE minute since i’ve wrutten something story wise so TT. but i hope yall enjoy as well as a earlier update (im being subjected to a 9 hour shift. please save me….)

fighting for first taglist (open) ...

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @right-person-wrong-time @jakeyverse @minthoons @punchbug9-blog @starfallia @heartheejake @ikeulove @rairaiblog @kazemiya @yourssincerely-mimi @wondipity @en-heedeungie @justalittle-hee @chandmyseven @letwiiparkjay @dylanobr1ens @bbsantc

©myjjongie 2024

[summermp3]

"𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇" (𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇!𝖾𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

→ in which you and Eddie become rivals after an illegal street race led to you breaking an arm and being locked up for a few months, what happens when he see's you again at one of the biggest races of his life?

Chapter one: DAY ONE

→ wordcount: 1.5k (chapters will get longer!)

→ warnings: Strong language, past childhood trauma, parental abuse, reader goes to prison for a little, reader crashes on her motorcycle, eventual smut, minors dni

→ Pairings: modern!streetracer!eddie x streetracer!fem!reader

not proof-read, sowwy i tired (take pity)

← Previous — Next →

DAY ONE:

It wasn’t like you had been in jail for years, only a few months…ever since you’d been caught at a street race, you’d dreamt of going back to do it all over again.

Well.

Maybe without the jail part.

The first thing you wanted to do, was get a drink. With very limited money to your name and an expired license, there weren’t many places you could afford or get to…A bar downtown called ‘Poor Richard’s’ was where you ended up, walking in the bar was full of biker men, couples, and soloists.

It would do.

“Can I have a vodka tonic please” your voice came out shrill, having not said anything all day? “Seven bucks” the bartender responded, sliding the glass over to you.

Giving him ten, simply telling him to keep the change. You downed the whole thing in a short gulp!

“Tough day?” Spoke a voice from next to you, a young man probably the same age is not younger. He dressed in jeans and a button-up and seemed to be buying a drink, but the thing he must’ve spent the most time on…was his hair.

“Something like that.” You turned to face him.

“Nice hair.” Your eyebrows move up in surprise. "Don’t diss the hair; some would even say it’s my best feature.” He tilts towards a group of young women and men as he says.

“It certainly is” You smiled, he smirked in reply.

“Want to come have a drink with us? Could use the new company.” After the bartender got him a drink, he turned to walk over.

“Promise you won’t kidnap me?” Stupid joke.

“I can promise, but I can’t speak for them.” It’s okay, he thought it was funny.

God, you need to learn how to socialize again.

As you and…whatever his name was, headed towards the group, they seemed to notice the new addition you made.

“Guys this is…uh.”

“Y/N..”

The next few minutes were spent with you greeting everyone, and then your eyes landed. Him.

“That’s Eddie” he reached his hand out, littered with rings and even smaller tattoos. Why had he looked so familiar? “Uh-yeah, Y/N” you greeted shaking his hand…rough upon your soft one.

“So mystery girl, where were you before this?” Eddie sighed, patting the seat next to him which you took happily. “Well, I’ve been…” all eyes on you.

“I’ve been out of town, I actually don’t live here.” What an absolute lie. But what else were you supposed to say? That you just got out of prison? Yeah, no.

“What town are you from?” Nancy asks a nice woman you’d immediately like upon meeting. “I’m actually from Seattle.” As if.

Chatter went by for hours, and laughing for hours, maybe getting friends wouldn’t be too awful. Eventually, people started leaving, but not before exchanging numbers to “hang out again soon” as Steve had put it.

That just left one problem, you don’t have an apartment anymore.

And eventually, it was just you and Eddie.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” You asked, sipping another vodka and tonic Robin had bought for you. “Why haven’t you?” He said back, turning to you with a rattle of his necklace. “I…I will.” You awkwardly smile.

His eyes squinted. “You don’t have a place.”

You do, you just really don’t wanna go back.

“Whattttt—ha of course I do-“ you tried arguing.

“No, you don’t.

“I do”

“I thought you just moved here.” Eddie tilted his head, “I still have a place.”

If you had to guess, you’d say Eddie Munson isn’t a fan of you. Although you couldn’t say why he might’ve felt this way.

“If you say so, I might see you soon yeah?” Eddie stood up. Walking away with not another glance at you, yeah, he definitely didn’t like you.

Taking a quick glance at the clock, 2am. Maybe it was time to go home.

Walking outside the bar, you found Eddie hadn’t gone anywhere yet and seemed to actually be waiting for you.

“If you have a place, let me drive you there.” He was calling your bluff. “That’s not necessary.” You try, “it’s the middle of the night, you’re a woman. I'm sure you can see where I’m going with this.” He wasn’t wrong, unfortunately.

“Okay fine, I will let you drive me to the street—“

“No, exact house.”

“What why?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Do you have a house?” He asks for what feels like the one-hundredth time.

“I already told you, yes.” Technically not a lie..?

“Okay, let me take you there.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “What if I don’t want you to know my address?”

He shrugs. “I don’t care if you don’t want me to know.”

“Aren’t you a charmer?”

“My mother used to say so.” He smirks, bringing the lighter to his lips.

“Oh yeah? She’s a liar.” You smile back.

Eddie’s smile quickly fell, “sensitive topic?” You say apologetically, “Just a little” he muttered.

“I know the feeling.” You attempt to cheer him up, not wishing to explain anything else.

“You can crash at my place.” He offers, going to turn around once again. “Eddie that’s really not necessary.”

“Just take the offer and be grateful I didn’t kill you and dump your body in a river.” Eddie watches as your face falters, and you take a step back.

“I wouldn’t actually do that, but you had to think if I would didn’t you? This proves my point on how dangerous it is to be out this late"

What a dick.

“I hate you.” No, you don’t.

“Aw, how awful. I’ll be sure to cry about it later.” He rolls his eyes, sighing sarcastically.

“Fine, one night.” You groan. “Good, that’s all you were getting anyway.” He smirks again. Walking towards the car park, you quickly catch up.

“So, where is your car?” The air begins to get colder and you cannot wait to get into a warm vehicle. “At home.”

“What?”

“I took my bike.” He gestures towards the helmet in his hand, how hadn’t you noticed? Maybe too busy staring into his eyes perhaps?

Yeah right.

He picks up on your nervousness, “Never been on the back of a motorcycle?” Eddie holds the helmet out towards you. “You’re driving, you need the helmet.” You decline the helmet.

“I’ve ridden many times without a helmet” so have you.

Deciding to just give up for the night, you accept the helmet. “Please don’t hit any bumps.” You ask, “That’s always the goal.” Eddie put his hair up in a ponytail, sitting on his motorcycle waiting for you to get behind him.

“Want some help?” His head turns in your direction, where you had just been staring at him for a few minutes. “Uh no, I just.”

“You promise you won’t kill me?” He laughs, a genuine cackle from the man. It made you feel proud.

“Yeah, I promise…for now, get on” he lets out a hand, helping you mount the bike. However, you don’t accept his helping hand instead you mount the bike yourself, arms latching around him.

“Done this before?” His tongue reaches to lick his lips. “Not exactly..”

“That’s okay, I’ll go slow” he stays reaching to slide in the key. “It’s more dangerous if you go slow.” You groan. “Obviously I know that.” Eddie shakes his head.

The rumble of the engine is nostalgic, a sound you hadn’t heard in so many months the rattle of the bike was a feeling that made you shiver in excitement.

Even though the ride was short, it was enough to fill you with glee.

Eddie pulled into an apartment building and parked his bike in the street. He thinks about offering you a handoff but doesn’t.

“Okay, rules.” You groan, “What am I twelve?” You ask.

“Don’t touch my stuff, don’t snoop through my stuff, and don’t break the first two rules.” Eddie slides the helmet off your head, holding it in his left hand.

“So many rules about your stuff, why? Are they cursed?” You walk towards the complex entrance, “you won’t wanna find out.”

You and Eddie enter the building, going up a few flights of stairs to floor five and immediately opening the door. “You didn’t lock the door?” You smile.

He ignores you anyway.

His house is cleaner than expected, with posters and bookshelves full of figurines and books. You sit on the plush couch, immediately sighing in pleasure.

So much better than prison mattresses.

“If you need me, come get me.” He points down the hall and you're grateful he offered and didn’t just walk away leaving you alone.

“Hey Eddie” he stops walking, not daring to turn around, but you know he’s listening.

“Yeah?”

“This means a lot to me.” No way you were about to cry in front of this man…

“Goodnight sweetheart.” Then he’s gone, you can't help but almost miss his company.

TAGLIST: @mykuup