#just want a break from it and get on to other stuff!

[imfinereallyy]

Steve and Eddie don’t get together for awhile—in fact it takes them longer than most people expect. It’s not filled with miscommunication and longing though. Instead it’s a slow build to falling in love.

Steve and Eddie do grow close after the spring break from hell. In fact, they would come to consider each other best friends (second only to Robin, as under the friendship agreement she made Eddie sign). But they fall into an easy sort of friendship, finding more things in common than just the kids eventually. They share a love of weird, eclectic movies, cars, weird food recipes, and even books. They teach each other about the stuff neither one would ever dream to be interested in.

Eddie learns about sports intensely. To the point, he joins a softball league with Steve and Robin (she is only team manager, there to look at the pretty girls who signed up).

Steve learns all about music. To the point he wants to learn an instrument. He wants to learn guitar at first, wanting to share Eddie’s love for it but finds it’s not for him. Instead, he takes up the drums, much to Robins's reluctance.

It’s simple between them, despite their history (both upside down and non-upside down alike). It’s not something Steve has with anyone else, seeing as most of his friendships involve a complexity that he can’t even understand himself.

It goes on for years, supporting each other through nightmares, heartbreak, grief (Eddie), and a sexuality crisis (Steve). They get tattoos together, take odd classes at the rec center together, and eventually share an apartment together with Robin in Chicago.

Robin tries to convince Steve for years there is something between him and Eddie. But Steve denies it, and he really means it.

Eventually life changes, their friendship stays strong but things are bound to take new shape.

Steve moves out to live with his boyfriend of a year. Eddie helps him, even cooks dinner for the two of them in their new apartment. They’re all friends, they hangout all the time.

Months pass, things seem okay, fine. Then, a year and change passea. Things are a little sour. Steve and Eddie’s friendship stays strong, but Steve seems to have problems with his boyfriend. Eddie listens because he cares; he loves Steve, and Steve loves him. They’re best friends; they would do anything for each other.

Including telling your best friend that maybe this guy isn’t good for him.

Steve doesn’t react poorly, just small. He shrinks in on himself. Like he knows Eddie’s right but doesn’t want to agree. Instead, Steve smiles sadly and moves on.

But Eddie doesn’t hear from Steve for a month.

It drives him insane; they haven’t gone that long without talking since Eddie was in a temporary coma. He’s worried he might have cost himself a best friend. Robin had moved in with her girlfriend a month before his talk with Steve, so Eddie was left to his own devices in his new one-bedroom apartment. Spiraling about Steve.

Robin said he was fine, and Eddie should believe her but he can’t help but worry.

He almost cracked and went to Steve’s apartment, keys in his hands ready to storm the castle.

Except….

When Eddie throws his apartment door open, there’s Steve, hand raised, ready to knock.

He looks exhausted, with two bags under his eyes and one bag in his hand.

“Hi.” Is all he managed to croak out before falling into Eddie’s arms, which had been open and ready for the sweet boy.

After the crying had calmed down and they had moved to the couch, Steve explained everything.

How Eddie had been right, Steve and his boyfriend weren’t good for each other. How he had been isolated from everyone except Eddie and Robin. How the last month, the fighting had only escalated. How things had slipped from just arguments to unforgivable words and actions.

How Steve was worried that everyone would choose his boyfriend instead of him.

Eddie rushed to ease his worries and offered to beat the guy up. It made Steve laugh.

Steve tells him he doesn’t have anywhere to go, but he’ll get out of his hair. Maybe go to Robin’s.

Eddie insisted Steve stayed and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

That’s when things start to slowly change.

Steve promises to look for a new place right away, Eddie says it’s no rush.

The first night, Steve tries to sleep on the couch, but Eddie pushes him to the bedroom, insisting they can share. It’s not like they haven’t before; it’s nothing new.

Except it is.

Suddenly, the days pass, and Eddie can’t fall asleep unless Steve is beside him. And Steve can’t stay asleep if Eddie isn’t there.

It starts off on respectful sides, but pushes into tangled limbs in the middle of the night, to finally just snuggling into each other's arms even before they fall asleep.

Everything else is the same….yet somehow different.

It’s like every little thing they do together brings a new kind of joy. Even boring things like doing the dishes or laundry seem so much better with Steve around.

They start to know each other’s habits, even more so than before, with how little space there is now in the apartment. Steve knows the exact place where Eddie always forgets his keys and the way he stretches his spine when he’s tired versus the way he does when he’s bored.

They fall into a lovely pattern of warmth and a type of love they can’t quite place.

They both don’t talk about it, but Steve ponders on it often. Why it feels so different now? After all these years? It hits him one day that it isn’t because he loves Eddie any less or more than he did a few years ago. No, it’s because they both have grown, and changed from who they used to be.

And so has the love between them.

Steve and Eddie, at 19 and 20, could never have the love they have now for each other, for the type of people they were then. Their love was platonic, wholesome, and what they needed then. Steve could not love the kind of man Eddie was then, and vice versa.

Now though, grown and changed but somehow still the same, their love was something new and bright.

Steve only smiled at the realization, not in any rush to move forward. Just enjoying his time with his Eddie.

Eventually, though, Steve stops looking for a new place, and Eddie never asks him to leave. Everyone refers to the apartment as theirs and not just Eddie’s. Robin stops making sly comments and instead smiles happily, almost fondly, at them when they gravitate toward each other. Eddie asks for Steve’s advice on how to deal with the landlord. Steve opens the mail regardless of whose name is on the front. Months pass, and suddenly, Steve is turning 28, and Eddie has a cupcake with a singular candle on it.

“Make a wish, sweetheart.” Eddie says, the soft glow of the flame lighting up his face.

Steve smiles softly at him and leans in. It’s not a risk, in the end, to kiss Eddie. It should be nerve-wracking and scary to change their friendship. But it’s not—it’s easy.

Their lips are soft as they lightly kiss. Steve whispers against Eddie’s mouth, “Don’t want a wish. I have everything I need.”

Eddie huffs a laugh across Steve’s lips. He says nothing—he doesn’t need to. Instead, Eddie leans in again, capturing Steve’s mouth once more.

#uuuhhh I was feeling soft #this is more of a Drabble?Rant? than a ficlet #but idk I’m in my feels #I like the idea of geniune friends to lovers #instead of just they were never really friends just jump to lovers #although I like that too #just wanted to shake it up #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #ao3 #ficlet #friends to lovers #sorry for the tense changes #again it's more of a rant

[artsy-waffle19]

They literally put Edwin through every possible gay-romance trope but made it realistic and that's so special to me like

we got the "probably former friend can't handle feelings and turns into bully instead" but it doesn't end with them, making up and being happy, they break apart, things escalate and they both suffer from that situation for a major part of their existence. With a bit of luck and a LOT of growing they manage to talk it out and the victim finds it in himself to forgive his bully but it's never going to be truly fine. But even though they both suffer tremendously, they are faced to deal with themselves in the process and find a kind of peace they wouldn't have gotten otherwise. Because maybe it's better to hurt for a long time only to realise that it really doesn't have to be torture to be the way you are and finally freeing yourself entirely than quietly live without the conflict but also without the realisation and resenting yourself for its entirety.

then there's the situation with the cat king. Older, emotionally unstable guy obsesses over younger inexperienced guy who actually understands him and causes some sort of gay awakening. But instead of some "I can fix him" bullshit with them, ending up happily ever after because "they're the only ones who understand each other"TM we get to see Edwin set boundaries and standing up for himself which benefits the both of them. For Edwin this ends in going "Hey thank you for opening that door to discovering that part of myself but I'm actually gonna have to leave you at the doorstep now" and for the cat king it ends up with him actually feeling seen because for once somebody didn't fall for his probably usual game of "I'm bored so I'm going to make a game of getting that guy to do what i want by seducing him". The fact that they don't end up together is the reason they were good for each other.

Also the situation with Monty which is basically the experience of a lot of queer peoples first relationship. They meet and they're both somehow new to all of this. Being queer, relationships, all that stuff. And they get along and share some interests, they like soending time with each other and technically it's like in a romance book because they meet and one of them is immediately interested and then they talk and they sit on a swingset and they kiss. And there's the excitement about "apparently I'm making my first experience with romance right now" and the worry of "I'm queer...I have it harder with relationships...what if this is the best option i have? what if it's the only one?" so they go through all the romance book tropes but the spark simply isn't there and it ends in one of them getting way more invested tha the other and they eventually end up breaking up in blood. But in a way both of them got an idea about what they actually want in life out of it so even if that sone didn't end well, it did give them something.

And last but not least the "in love with best friend who likes someone else/someone of the opposite gender specifically" but instead of having that best friend be secretly in love with the character all along or suddenly turn homophobic and the friendship being ruined they talk about it and they move on and the friendship isn't damaged and in a way it might even be better because sometimes our feelings are unrequited and sometimes that's okay.

I just really really love how the show took all of those options for cheesy and in a way sometimes even forced romance tropes and went "hey, life is not a romance novel but actually that kind of makes it better because look where it got you now"

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #edwin paine #dbd #monty dbd #monty the crow #charles rowland #cat king

[scudevils]

vienna — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: smut, some sad stuff, a prequel to “when it rains it pours”, swearing, just finished this after starting it a whileeeeee ago, google translated french (soz), this is old (as in mid 2023 old), not a good representation of a relationship, not proofread!

synopsis: what really happened the night you bumped into charles at the monaco grand prix [6.0k]

a/n: im backkkk bitches!! jk i don’t wanna jinx myself but who woulda thought it would a charles fic that got me out of my slump. anyway, please be nice, i haven’t wrote in like 3 months properly 😭😭

you stayed true to your words, keeping your distance from charles.

you hadn't seen him in months, not since you'd left him in the kitchen that night. you hadn't been temped enough to check how he was doing in his races or where he was in the standings, not once.

and your friends knew better than to tell you, so whilst you could see they were obviously celebrating something, wether it was a win or a podium, you kept yourself away from anything relating to him.

the way he looked at you when you were in the kitchen was still burned into your memory, the smug and almost mocking expression on his face, as if he didn't believe the words that you told him, as if he knew you'd come straight back to him.

you told yourself after that, that you'd be stronger the next time, that you wouldn't give into his glances or taunting looks he gave you. that you were stronger than him and whatever gave me was playing.

although all it took was a win at one of the most iconic circuits on the calendar to break down the walls you'd so carefully built up.

you'd inevitably learned through a mutual friend that charles was a contender in the championship, that ferrari had been having a 'wonder season' with their monegasque golden boy, a miracle was what the media was calling it. a potential to win the championship since they last did in 2007.

monaco was the next race around the corner, the exclusive circuit de monaco one of the hardest to get tickets to, even for the countries natives, although it did help living basically around the corner from it.

whilst you were with charles it had became some what of a tradition to attend monaco with him, every year of his career, you were with him for your home race. despite the rumours of the curse, wether you being with him was the cause, it never stopped you from going.

you'd ruled out attending this year without a second thought, letting your friends know that too, pierre being the one to offer your entire friend group paddock passes for the three days.

it took days of your friends grovelling, your many no's and them constantly assuring you that the thousands of people attending would be the ones taking over much of charles' attention, before you finally gave in and agreed.

after all he was the home boy, everyone loved him, men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him, and he revelled in knowing that.

monaco had a special way of bringing out the other side of you, the partying side that never seemed to be able to sit down or the side of you that made the bad decisions, that wouldn't listen to anyone unless they were putting a drink in your hand.

it was a 50/50 coin toss on which one people would get.

the first two days had gone by in a blink of an eye, everything running just as smoothly as your friends had promised and you were actually having fun, the most shocking thing of all.

you had somehow managed to avoid him the entire weekend, and you were about to go three for three when charles had found you watching over the alpine mechanics as they worked on the final preparations of the race day car.

it was obvious to anyone he had came around looking for pierre, although he couldn't say that he was disappointed to see you instead. "was wondering where my number one supporter was," his voice was like nails on a chalkboard for you, a graining sound that wouldn't leave your head and you hated how much you missed it. you chose not to acknowledge him as he spoke, continuing to look at the mechanics and even pretending to understand the data on the screen. "shame you're not in the ferrari garage, we used to have so much fun in there."

"fuck you, charles." standing up from the chair, you moved to walk past him the ferrari driver blocking the way as he tilted his head down towards you. he opened his mouth to say something before an engineer from the ferrari garage found him, needing him for something with the car.

charles removed the cap from his head, placing it on yours, and it felt so right that you wanted to shoot yourself for how much you loved it, he laughed lightly at how quick you were to take it off again. "i'll find you after the race."

just as you'd anticipated, the race too wasn't too action filled, but you couldn't lie and say you were paying it all your attention, the rare occurrence of a red bull strategy error allowing the ferrari's a larger gap to a 1-2. a mclaren crashing into the barrier had brought out a safety car with just under 10 laps to go.

with only 5 laps, it was inevitable who the winner was, the winner who was about to win the monaco grand prix, and break his home race curse in one go.

fans and employees alike gather around the podium, the winning car followed by second and third place displayed in front of them. the drivers came out one by one, celebrate with their teams because after all they're on the podium of the most presidential grand prix, each of them standing at their designated step before charles, accompanied by the cheers of his home crowd, took the top step.

soon they were each awarded their trophies before the monegasque anthem rung out to the crowd. charles stood proud as he took everything in, he had beat the curse and won at his home track.

you watched from afar with your friends mixed in with the alpine engineers and other workers, trying to push down the proud feeling you have bubbling inside of you. each celebrated as if their own team won, it seemed that truly everyone had a soft spot for the ferrari man.

with the majority of celebrations over the fans began to leave the track, all of you going back to your apartments to get ready for what inevitably was going to be a long night of celebration.

you couldn't help the memories flashing in your head of the pictures shown to you just over two years ago, charles' hand on the brunette girls hip as his mouth was on hers. a couple others in the background jeering them on as though it was something to celebrate. you hadn't gone out in monaco since, everywhere reminded you of that.

however, you shook the thoughts from your head. tonight, you were going to go out with your friends tonight, get drunk, then end up back in your own bed.

people were spilling out of the clubs onto the street, different songs blaring out of each one. your friends had settled on one you’d been going to since your teens, the purple strobes hitting you as you got in, memories of every bad decision you’d made in there coming back to you, taunting you.

it was just shy of full, people on the dance floor with a drink in their hand as they danced up against someone, spilling whatever filled their glasses. guys sat in booths with girls around them, their company lasting as long as they had money in their wallet.

a drink was quickly placed in your hand, your simple order one that your friends were used to by now. you were in your usual spot, the leather seats still pristine as the day you first sat on them when one of them had spotted pierre in another booths, the frenchman calling you over before making room for all of you.

one drink quickly turned into two, then three before you were both finally tipsy enough to get to the dance floor, this was the side of you that your friends loved to see, fun, carefree, living in the moment. your body pushed up against someone behind you, long gone were the thoughts of the monegasque who’d plagued your life, the feeling of his hands firmly on your hips had you pressing further back.

his grip on you was enough to keep you to close to him, his breath hot on your neck before his lips began to explore your exposed skin, open mouthed kisses littered across your collarbone. leaning into his touch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing the man closer to you, giving into the feeling.

the alcohol flowing through your veins built up the courage for you to turn to look at him, a small gasp falling from your lips as your eyes met the familiar ones of pierre, looking down at you with his arm wrapped around your waist, unapologetically looking over your body. "you know he'd be mad if he saw us."

you hated that you still let him have this control over you, that with another man wrapped up around you, you still thought about how he felt. despite the noise, pierre could hear your words clearly. his lips continued up your neck from your collarbone, reaching just below your ear, teeth lightly grazing your earlobe. "good thing he isn't here," the frenchman placed a small kiss on the soft skin. "charles doesn't know what he's lost."

every inch of your body shouted to give into him, to be the bad guy and fuck his best friend with no remorse, after all where was his remorse when he’d left you in that kitchen, when he’d been in another womens bed?

but even then, something stopped you from letting yourself fall into pierre's arms, something still held you back. nothing could explain what prompted you to step away from him, offering him a quick apology before going back to the booth, the warmth of his lips a long forgotten feeling.

at that point you hadn't even wanted to continue with the night, ordering one last drink before you told your friends you were ready for an early night, an early night for monaco anyway.

the walk from the club was barely 10 minutes to your apartment, the times when you were thankful to live in a small country. you rounded a corner, mimicking the cars that had been on the track hours prior, feeling your body hit into another's as they quickly apologised.

"are you everywhere?" you groaned seeing who you had bumped into, the very person who you wanted to see least in that moment.

charles rolled his eyes at your comment. "monaco is a small place," he looked behind you waiting to see your friends following suit, frowning slightly when he saw you alone. "where's everyone else?"

“dancing and drunk." you gave him a short answer, moving past him to continue home when you heard his footsteps behind you, cursing under your breath, your patience was running thin. "is there something you need, charles?"

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let you walk home yourself drunk?" scoffing at his choice of the word gentleman, you started walking away from him, already aware there was no hope of him giving up, you’d learned over the course of your life to just accept he did things at his own accord.

the rest of the walk to your apartment was in an awkward silence, although you could see charles was desperate to say something, the way he’d take a breath as if he was about to speak before holding off, and you’d been so close to screaming at him to just get it out before you saw your complex entrance.

"why did you want to walk me home?" the question had been eating away at you; lingering in your mind the whole time he was besides you, needing to know the answer.

"i told you, i don't like the idea of you walking home by yourself." charles spoke nonchalantly, as if it was a daily occurrence for him, seeing his ex girlfriend who he’d so delicately fucked up.

at his answer you let out a sarcastic laugh. "we both know that’s bullshit charles, you don't care about anyone who's not you," you eyed up the monegasque, searching his usually poetically handsome features for any reaction. "you never did care."

that struck a nerve in charles, his voice raising slightly as he spoke. "of course i fucking cared about you, i wouldn't have kept you around just so i could fuck you."

it took all your self restraint not to slap him in that moment, instead hoping the glare you were giving him was enough to kill him. swinging the door to your complex open you heard it slam behind you, wishing that it closed before he was able to get inside.

unfortunately though, your wishful thinking was just that and you could hear his footsteps just behind yours, echoing against the tiled walls, ringing in your ears like a sirens song. "go celebrate charles."

"i want to talk to you,"

"too bad." you replied, throwing him a bitter smile over your shoulder as the door to your apartment unlocked.

"just give me five minutes." no part of you wanted to turn to look at him, knowing the second you saw his eyes you would cave in. ultimately though, he didn’t even need to look at you before you conceded.

the door was opened just as quickly as it closed, charles' eyes scanning the apartment, which looked just as it had whilst you were together. in fact, you still had the miniature helmet he wore for his first win in spa, and the smaller replica trophy from his monza triumph, keepsakes of his success that you hadn’t bothered to throw away.

"you kept them?" you could hear in his voice he was surprised, charles had half expected to see them in a burning fire before he ever saw them in the same position on your mantelpiece.

your eyes drifted to where he was looking, a lump threatening to grow in your throat, part of you forgetting they were even there since they’d become a constant in tour apartment. "i haven't had a chance to clean, not been at home much recently." you would be lying if you said you weren't missing monaco, after all it was your home, your families home and your friends home.

charles silently nodded at your answer, the apartment falling into a deafening silence as you mulled over what to say next. "so anything new with you? any boyfriends?" he prepared himself for the inevitable 'yes' that you would answer with.

however that never came, shaking your head no as you questioned him with a confused look, still not entirely sure on why he was still standing in your apartment, or why you were even entertaining him.

"really? I didn't-"

“charles, is there something you actually want?" you cut him off abruptly, with him you never did have the same patience you did with others in your life.

"i told you i wanted to talk to you," you responded by raising your eyebrow as if to say 'about?' "pierre told me you went on a date and i wanted-"

you were beyond mad at this point, not only had he essentially followed you home but also had the audacity to ask about a date you had. "fuck off Charles, and tell Pierre he can fuck off too."

“so, did you?”

you owed him nothing, you knew that, he knew it too and yet something inside of you wanted to let his know, still felt obligated to tell him. "yes charles, i went on a date, and i'm sure you'll be happy to know it was shit."

"why? what happened?" he was pushing his luck and he knew it, one wrong word, a question to far and he was asking for a slap from you.

a part of you did want to slap him for continuing to ask these personal questions, he was nothing to you anymore, he wasn't apart of you life and he didn't deserve to be. But the other part, the half you'd hidden away the last few months, wanted him to know.

and unfortunately for you, that part won. "he couldn't get me off, there, happy? now can you fuck off?" you walked towards the door of your apartment, about to hold it open when you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist.

before you could think your back was against the wall, charles' body flush against yours, his eyes finding yours instantly and you hated the way your stomach erupted in butterflies when they did.

you tried to wriggle away, charles' grip on your hands to strong for you to even budge. "poor guy couldn’t get you to come?” you responded with silence, not wanting to give nto his taunting. “told you i'd ruin other men for you, didn't i?" the monegasque couldn't hide hide smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes at the implication.

scoffing at his words, you tried to break free of his grasp again, ultimately stopping when you made no progress, his hand held you own two above your head, his other lingering somewhere across your stomach. "you flatter yourselves charles, really, more than anyone else does."

he rolled his eyes, testing the waters as he leant in to press a singular kiss against your neck, a self satisfied smile spreading across his face when you tilted it back against the cold wall, allowing him for access. "always knew you could never stay away for too long. how long was it last time, 2, 3 months?”

truly, in that moment you hated yourself for giving into his advances, but it didn’t mean that you were going to go quietly. "last i checked you followed me, seems you’re the desperate one."

"and who's the one letting me fuck her after her date couldn't?"

"who said anything about you fucking me?" instead of answering Charles bit down into the skin on your neck, a small whimper falling from your lips, quickly shutting you up, as he soothed over the redness with his tongue.

each movement of his was controlled, calculated, he knew where he was going to touch you, when he was going to, almost as if he knew it was going to happen. something about the way he was slightly smiling when he brought your lips in for a kiss made you short of breath, knocking the air out of your lungs, with your skin tingling at the long forgotten play of intimacy. you melted into his embrace, every sense on high alert.

red flags went off in your head. he cheated on you, and you took him back. it was a viscous cycle where neither seemed strong enough to let go.

it was almost like you were drowning in the moment, in him, sinking so deep you were sure to meet mariana’s trench.

at this, you pulled away, your face was red hot, watching as his smug exterior faltered slightly, his cheeks fading a small hue of redness. your hands rested on his chest, his eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep he must've gotten. "you can't keep doing this, charles, it's not fair." your voice was weak as you spoke, not having the strength to look him in his eyes.

"if it's not fair, then why do you keep coming back to me?" the question was warranted, yet there was a slight part of you, deep inside that section of your heart reserved for him that thought this could work, that you would get back together and all would be right in the world.

you had no real answer for him, nothing you could offer him that you hadn’t said already, and you knew he wasn’t bound to change his mind about you now. "because i want to believe it'll work, even when we know it doesn't." charles' lips were millimetres away from yours, able to feel his breath fanning them as your eyes glanced down at them.

delicately, charles slid his hands over your hips before squeezing the skin, noticing the quick look to his lips he longed to kiss you again, to stay like this for a moment, it was easy like that, to forget he had to make a relationship work outside of kissing you. it was when you decided to look up, the memory of your kiss making your insides warm were you leaning forward to place another tender smooch on his lips, savoring it, may it be your last.

you knew you were making a mistake, but if you truly wanted to let him go, it was one you had to let yourself make. this was on your accords, not his.

charles' touch softened at your quick action, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. "I always knew you were the obsessed one" with the sudden whisper you voiced, he smiled sheep it at you. you held off from smiling back at him, allowing him to take you, holding your hand in his when you walked towards your once shared bedroom, nostalgia feeding the delusions that this wouldn’t be the last time.

the nights in monaco were never quiet, the weekends increasing tenfold and for the first time in years you welcomed the buzzing night life of your home country. his hands on your body were a sensation that brought back memories, good and bad, and you didn't even realize how much you had missed him on you.

for the past few months you’d tried to convince yourself and everyone around you that you didn't want him, that you were fine on your own but charles, as always, saw right through it. "i know you missed me, chérie, it's okay to admit it," he punctuated his words with a kiss on your cheek. "tu m'as manqué." i missed you

he had broken you a long ago and the only person who can pick up your pieces and make you whole again, was him.

"shut up and fuck me, charles." your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head with no protest from him, in an attempt to get him to speed up.

"thought we didn't say anything about fucking you?" you hated the way the cocky smile on his face made a warmth pool in your stomach, turned you on like no one had before or after him.

you ignored his comment, turning round to let charles unzip the dress you had been wearing. his hands danced across the back of your shoulders, goosebumps rising on your warm skin as he slowly unzipped your dress. he leant in, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades, undoing it fully and watching as the material fell, black against the stark white sheets.

maybe it was symbolic, yin and yang, sinner and saint, darkness and light, charles and you.

underneath you had a matching red set on, the red lace complimenting your skin tone more than any other colour. "even when i'm not around your still wearing my colour." you rolled your eyes at his goading when he cupped your breasts, squeezing the soft skin slightly.

"red was always arthur’s favourite colour on me." your voice was shallow as you spoke, sighing contently as squeezed your soft skin, thumbs grazing over your nipples. your words were a call back to when you and charles had started dating, the last year of high school, arthur only 15 and you and charles 18.

it was a running joke in the family of his crush on you, the younger leclerc taking after the rest of his family in that he was never shy to let someone know how he felt, especially the girls.

you saw charles' eyes darken at the mention of his name, quick to bring your mouth in for another, much shorter, kiss as his hands ran up and down your body. with each passing minute you melted into him, his lips peppering your neck with wet kisses while travelling further down your body, nibbling on your tender skin downwards. the room was dimly lid, yet you could clearly view his eyes on you, locked on you like a predator with his prey, pupils blown out in a crazed look.

quickly, charles cleared the soaked lace that was in his way, leaving no barrier between himself and your bare cunt. "don't get shy on me now, chérie, open your legs."

you couldn’t you resist him much longer, or maybe you didn’t want to, spreading your legs as he placed himself right in between you, hiking your leg over his shoulder. his lips drifted down from your calf, closer and closer to the inside of your thigh before you could feel his breath on you, hyperaware of everything.

"fuck, you're so wet." your skin erupted with goosebumps with his first of many kisses on your clit, the tingling nerves anticipating further care from him. charles prodded his tongue out, flicking it over your sensitivity, pitiful sounding whines falling from your lips.

"don’t tease me.” you pleaded with him, watching as his eyes flashed up at you, a mischievous smile on his face before turning away again.

charles flattened his tongue against you, licking a stripe up the middle, working his mouth against you whilst also placing his middle finger against your clit. he circled your clit with his tongue, whimpers falling from your lips from the pleasure. your eyes were screwed shut, hands clutching at the bedsheets when you felt him push two of his fingers inside of you.

"look at how good you take my fingers, mon amour, just as you always did."  Your thighs shook slightly when he pressed his tongue against your clit again alongside pumping his fingers in and out of you. your significant wetness was coating him, fingers easily moving as you clenched around them.

his mouth explored your every inch, his nose messily bumping against your clit when his tongue wasn't on it, your hand digging into his hair, keeping him there, pulling on the dark strands as groans sounded from him.

in between his taunts were words of praise, every second getting you closer and closer to the release you so desperately needed. your lips slumped into mindless pleading, with charles obliging, knowing full on well what you needed, he always did.

"forgot how good you taste." he made no attempt to tone down his crude language, making your cheeks rise up with heat, to have you writhe underneath him, not to mention with you succumbing to all of his attention on your neglected cunt.

you let out a louder moan, whining as he added a third finger, stretching you out more; more than you had been for at least a few months now. "charles, i'm so close." your pleading was futile, knowing charles was always the type of man to make you wait until he wanted you to come undone.

the clenching around his fingers made it even clearer that you were close, so close you were practically dancing around your release. "cmon, let go for me, chérie.” charles spoke in a low voice, his warm breath tickling your skin.

he help you ride through your first orgasm, his name the only thing on your tongue as your thighs shook around his head, your hands grasping at the grown out strands of his hair, charles letting his eyes glance up at you when you came. your back arched off the mattresses of the bed, the heels of your feet digging into charles' shoulders.

just when you thought he’d stop he didn’t relent, his fingers still moving inside of you, tongue pressed against your clit as he slowly circled it, you could hear the sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you, any other time and you’d be embarrassed by it. “s’too much, charles.”

“too much? one orgasm and it’s too much?” you nodded your head pitifully, hands reaching down to wrap around his wrist but it didn’t stop the movement of charle’s fingers. “what happened to my good girl? used to be able to at least give my fingers two.”

you knew where he was going with this, he wasn’t going to stop till you came again, wether it was on his tongue or with his fingers, and you whined when you felt them curl inside of you, feeling fuller than before somehow. already hypersensitive, it wasn’t long till the familiar rush came back to you, building in your stomach, the coil tightening till it once again snapped.

"never gonna be able to forget how good you sound moaning my name." his voice was tainted with, drawing out sloppy kisses on your belly, then breasts, wherever you let him he left marks in his wake. you let him explore and spoil you, shameless as he tenderly wrapped his lips around the erected nipple while rolling the other one between his fingers.

he puts out his hand for you, bringing you to match his height, moving to kiss you again now that your breathing was less erratic. "i want you to fuck me," you say almost breathlessly against his lips.

he hums against your lips, helping you up so you both can move atop your bed. he lays you back against what once was your neatly set up pillows, still hungrily kissing you, hands running down your thighs, but you move to grasp them. "fuck, i want you so badly right now." you knew it was wrong but you revelled in his confession, that after everything he was still yearning for you.

charles pauses looking at your eyes, still despite everything looking for any shade of regret in them. when he sees nothing he takes the opportunity to make one of his snide remarks. "remember when you told me this wasn't going to happen again? always knew you were a good liar."

you craved the stretch of him, the stretch that no many years together could prepare you for and the burn much like before that lingers in your throat and was so good that it made you forget how to think.

charles pushes inside of you, moving as slow as possible but you encourage him to fill you up completely. your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his cock stretching you, your hands coming to grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging in to his lightly tanned skin. charles' breathing staggers as he groans, moving forwards to place kisses along your jaw.

he stills once he's in you fully, but you shake your head slightly. "don't fucking stop charles,” his face stays tucked in your neck, his hips rolling against yours forcing a moan from your lips.

“even wore my favourite perfume, were you planning on fucking me when you got ready, chérie?" he’d just picked up on it there, the same signature scent you had wore throughout your entire relationship being the first one you reach for, a sweet smell that he thought reflected on you perfectly.

"shut up." he swallows a laugh when he hears you cry out, featherlight touches against your skin, gently, enjoying the sounds that rose from you with the way slammed into you.

he held your gaze, your eyes overcome with desire, lust, sensing nothing but your hammering heartbeat on his chest.

his lips slightly parted after every thrust, he knew he needed this as much as you did, taking advantage of the momentary peace to try to catch his breath with your nails holding onto his back, branding his skin with crescent shaped indents.

his little words of praise worked contradictory with his continuous taunts, teasing you as he nipped at your exposed skin.

your hands raked over his taut muscles, earning a grown from the man above you as your nails scratched against his back. charles pulled your hands in his own, placing them above your head before increasing the rhythm on his hips, steadier, deeper, not to mention pushing you closer to your release.

charles bought his face closer to yours, his lips just lightly brushing over your ear. "i want you to ride me, put on a show."

you couldn't help but moan at his words, nodding your head before switching positions, charles staying inside as you straddled his lap, knees locked in on either side of his thighs, his eyes meeting yours and you could see how desperate he was in that moment.

he was sat further up on the bed, your nails raking down his chest, leaving more, deeper, marks sure to last. lips pressed against the side of his neck, biting down on the skin before soothing over it and moving onto another place.

his adams apple bobbed as you took more of the control, setting your own pace despite his hands on your hips trying to make you go faster. charles brought his thumb down to your clit, circling it which had your thighs shaking around him.

charles' name fell from your mouth more than anything else, him and your pleasure your two sole focuses.

he could see the tiredness start to come through in your movements, choosing to take more control wether you complained or not. he began thrusting up into you with his hands on your hips, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit determine to make you come at least once more.

your thighs tried closing around charles' midriff from the overwhelming sensitivity, although he was there to keep them open, a hand on the top of both of your thighs forcing them open.

clenching around him one last time you felt him release inside of you, the warm feeling of him so deep inside of you making you whine. charles let out a string of curse words, your name at the forefront when he let out one last groan, slumping back against your pillows altogether his hands didn’t stop the movement of your hips.

within the whirlwind of emotions, you desperately clenched around him, with this position your heart was racing, dipping into the mattress with soft gusts of breath departing from your lips. the raw drag of him was somehow more extreme, pursing your mouth when you felt a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

his own orgasm brought on yours, your bodies in-tune with each other as if he’d never left. you were completely ruined, mind going blank as you felt yourself losing full control of your body to charles, vision a blinding white as your body felt hot all over.

the monegasque brought you in for a short kiss, leaving for the bathroom when you rolled off of him and coming back with a dampened towel, helping you clean up.

you both knew it was the last time you had together, the last time you would ever share a bed together, the last kiss.

and the thought of that had you clutching onto each other in your sleep just a bit tighter.

although before you did eventually fall asleep, you heard charles whisper one last thing in your ear, his confession bringing the smallest of smiles to your face.

"je serai toujours à toi."

tag list:

@irmpyrz @tempo-rary-fix @formulas-bitch @yunnie-f1 @julesandro @itsjustkhaos @janeh22 (a year later and i finally have something to tag yous in!!)

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader

[gremlingottoosilly]

I have a small request because you're my favourite writer 🥺 can you write König defending reader from Roze and Calisto? (These operators always bully me in the game 😞) I want König to save me from them and have sexy time 🥰 pretty please ❤️

You were the runt of KorTac. Little comms expert, always the one with her pretty ass seated in some cushy room while the others are risking their lives. This is what everybody say to you, anyway - not like anyone cared that you were the one responsible for making orders heard and prompting others to action. Fucking bullies, that's who they were - but you can't even say anything about it. Too scared of retaliation, not wanting to be accused of getting into a catfight with two other female members, and also not wanting to draw the attention of the colonel. Konig always gave you creeps - especially with his long, leering gazes. Made you feel like a mouse under the gaze of a lion. It finally got to the point of those two pushing you around in the locker room. High school stuff, you both knew it - but they were smart, beating where the uniform would hide. Knowing you'd ditch the training anyway, not wanting to show off the bruises in the locker room after. You tried your best not to yelp from pain, taking the beating like a champ - up until you were dragged away. Your colonel looking like he is ready to kill a few dozens of his own people. Konig yells at you, at first - until you're finally crying, breaking down and mumbling. This is when he smirks, pushes a finger under your chin, and forces you to look at him. He said you don't have to worry about them anymore - but you also need to think about your future here. With him. There is an open position for the reports dealer at the base, and he needs someone to work with him. Under him. Tugged on your shirt, made you squeal as he easily unwrapped your uniform and squished your tits for a good measure. Made you squeak while he used your body as a stress toy - maybe bullying you just as much as girls did, just in a slightly different way. Pushed his face in the crook of your neck and sink his teeth in - you could probably see his face under that mask if you tried. You didn't. Just shut your eyes and spread your legs, letting your colonel fuck you on his table - payment for his protection.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod

[kinokoshoujoart]

Marrying Carter in Harvest Moon DS Cute! (North American version)

oh… sorry no not the archaeologist, i mean Pastor Carter from Mineral Town!

(or is it Pastor Curdy….?)

teeechnically his descendant, and it causes a game over… but this is the only time we’ve been able to marry him right?

so in the girl version of HMDS, there’s two “secret” Mineral Town bachelors that you can marry by talking to them enough times on the phone. one is Mason, the guy who runs May’s Tailoring… but the second, Pastor Carter, is a bit more obscure…

i couldn’t find them uploaded anywhere so here are his 2nd* thru 10th conversations+his proposal+proposal rejection in english! if you want to see it on youtube instead here you go

*i failed to record the first conversation when it happened, and there’s no way in hell i’m resetting my whole game again (…yet), so…just know the first one was like “oh you want to talk? what should we talk about…….. …… ….. …. i can’t think of anything. well see ya………” extremely riveting stuff

he’s so obscure that i didn’t even realize that he was a bachelor until i found out about the mechanic from this japanese wiki!! (here’s an archive link to the page on him in case the page doesn’t work) all i did was test whether it worked in english since i couldn’t find any english info at all mentioning it. i’m sure others have found him… right……..

in case the links above don’t work, a small guide to holy matrimony below the cut since i can’t find one in english

it works essentially the same as the Mason marriage (so it’s just a game over, sadly…), and the steps are pretty tedious and counterintuitive, so you’re unlikely to just stumble across it… but you too can get a priest to break his vow of celibacy for you or whatever!

you will need:

at least 2,050,000 G

20 cursed tools/accessories

if you really don’t want to dig up 20 cursed things you can substitute 100x “remove a cursed tool/accessory” for blessing a cursed tool…

but, including all the cursed tools and accessories, there’s only 16… which means you will need to go dig up 4 duplicate cursed accessories using this method! yay!!! extremely pointless since you can’t sell blessed accessories until after marriage in DS for girl (at which point you can’t trigger pastor carter’s proposal)

you unlock a conversation with cardi when you spend at least 205,000 G. which means the quickest thing to do is to order removal of a cursed item five times, then bless 2 cursed items.

**be careful when blessing accessories to only equip one at a time!!! if you equip a stack of duplicate accessories, blessing that stack destroys the duplicates!!!! :( so just take 1 out of the stack and equip it!!!**

you also can’t unlock more conversations until you’ve seen the one you unlocked, so like even if you spend a million G you’ll just unlock one conversation, and you’ll need to finish that conversation and then spend 205,000 G to unlock the next one…yeah….

on the tenth conversation he abruptly reveals that he’s fallen in love with you and asks you to marry him! it ends your game, but….! on the bright side, it ends your game!!! you’re finally free from Hell Simulator!!!!

#my art #why is his name localized as CURDY….. #i was making fun of it being cardi in the japanese version but……. CURDY #bokumono #harvest moon #story of seasons #harvest moon ds #harvest moon ds:cute #harvest moon ds cute #hmds #hmds cute #pastor carter #now everyone knows i always name my farm ram ranch. shameful #ladies……. he’s broke and possibly an alcoholic….(can we save him?) #the proposal really comes out of nowhere lmao #i’m sorry i’m still not over this his name is CURDY…… aaaaaaaagh #pastor carter is such a funky little guy to me. i have him in my acnh town he has a basement full of flame machines and a single wheelchair #why did the video crop like that when i appended the recordings together. i’m getting so old #sorry for the excessive babygirlism my tablet works again and i went a little ham #of course marrying a man of god causes the game to end. since the programming language for hmds is ancient evil curses #heh….. hex code

[zchnlswrld]

LOVING YOU

MASTERLIST | WC: 8.1K (EXACTLY) | RELEASE DATE: 7TH MAY 2024

NON-IDOL!WOOYOUNG X FEM!READER (X NON-IDOL!SAN)

Synopsis: Loving Jung Wooyoung wasn’t worth it. Loving him wasn’t worth a god damn bone in your body. Yet here you are. Loving Jung Wooyoung made you hurt. It was a pain you were willing to endure for so long.

Warning/s: Angst. Hurt to comfort. Some fluff. Mentions of food and alcohol.

Rina’s notes: This is probably my favourite thing I’ve written kind of gagged! For texts white is someone else and blue is you! Sumin and Ningning what are you doing here?? There may be some spelling and grammar mistakes, I just haven’t had time to clean it up! Not too proud of the ending as I don’t really know how to end stuff sorry!!!!!

Tags: @newworldnet

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching your heart getting ripped out and doing nothing to stop it. It’ll happen again so why bother. Your heart aches as he smiles as Sumin knowing full well she’d never love him as much as you do. But what you do know is that she makes him happy and that’s all you can ask for at this point.

The sounds in the cafe had gradually faded out as you watched the pair lovingly gaze into each other’s eyes. They were both so content with being in each other’s presence you’re sure they’d forgotten you were even there with them. Neither of them had spoke to you nor looked in your direction for a while, leaving you to trace your finger in the grooves of your mug.

Your eyes drifted from the couple to the chalkboard above the counter, after reading it you look around the room. You do everything but look at the couple.

“So what about you?” Sumin smiles at you, breaking you out of your daze.

You return the smile, slightly lost, and reply. “What about me?”

“What’s your favourite thing to do? It’d be nice to know you more, seeing as you’re his best friend and all.” It’s always that last line that gets you but she says it so politely you aren’t sure if it was supposed to come off as condescending.

“Oh.” You think for a moment. “I don’t do much. I stay inside.” You give her an awkward smile, looking over at Wooyoung to say something.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and nods. “That’s something though, kiddo.”

Before you can get another word in he lets go of you and continues talking to Sumin about whatever they were before. Slowly you reach into the bag on your lap and pull out your phone. You see San’s name on the screen along with a text message and open it discreetly.

Is everything going alright?

just call pls

i wanna go

Read 13:17

You make an effort to turn your phone off of silent and after a few moments it rings loudly, cutting off the conversation happening next to you. “It’s San.” You place the phone on ear closest to Wooyoung and San says something about needing your help but you don’t really register it. You simply pick up your bag, pull out your wallet, place some money next to your cold drink, wave to the pair and leave. You can hear them both say goodbye but you shut the door just as quickly as you open it.

After leaving you turn the corner and see the pair through the window, they go back to talking as usual. Wooyoung laughing at something Sumin says and you can almost hear his hearty laugh as if you were still in there.

San hears your irregular breaths and his heart breaks for you. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“He’s so happy.” You let out a shaky sigh.

“I’ll come and get you.” Keys jingle on the other end of the line and you can hear Byeol meow at San for leaving.

“They’re so happy, together.” You study the smile on Wooyoung’s face. He doesn’t cover his mouth with his hand and instead reaches for hers. His smile reaches his eyes, as does hers.

“Wait at Aurora, it’s Hongjoong’s shift.” You nod, although he can’t see it he knows.

Your phone slowly slips back into your bag, you’re not sure if you put the phone down or if San has but you register that it’s no longer in your hand. You finally tear your eyes away from the pair and drag your feet two blocks to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s store.

It’s a silent walk.

There are no cars on the road. There are no people in the street. There are no birds chirping.

You’re left with your thoughts. Dangerous, really.

This is the first time he’s been so enthusiastic about having you meet someone, he pushed so hard for it and how could you say no to that face. The face you’ve loved so dearly since 8th grade.

She is the first girlfriend of his that had smiled at you and spoke to you and asked about you, something that gains Wooyoung’s stamp of approval. She offered to pay for your drink and even gave you a book you’d been meaning to read that she had on hand. She didn’t judge you for being a homebody nor did she pass comment on it.

Sumin was lovely. That’s what you hated more than anything.

Hongjoong had clearly been warned about your arrival because by the time you arrive there’s a hot chocolate on your usual booth and a small post it note next to it. Your heart clenches at Hongjoong’s gesture, not because it hurts you but because you’d missed being there.

The place was empty, his lunch rush had ended as all the sweet treats on display were gone and Yeosang was wiping tables.

You go straight to the booth quietly, getting a small smile from the man behind the counter as you walk past him. Placing your bag next to you, you pick up the note.

‘It’s on me.’

Simple and short but enough to remind you that’s exactly what Sumin said that made Wooyoung kiss her on the cheek while wrapping his arm around her while you were in line together. Of course Wooyoung was affectionate, he always has been but not like that in a long time. He’d hug and hold hands and give San or Yeosang the occasional kiss on the cheek but that’s where it ended.

You keep staring at the note before wordlessly folding it and putting it at the edge of the table.

“Do you think he doesn’t know?” You’re not sure who you’re speaking to, yourself, Hongjoong or Yeosang.

“Honestly?” Yeosang responds, his voice telling you he’s close. You nod and he sighs. “I don’t think he does.” Looking over at Yeosang he comes and sits opposite you. “I think he’s so wrapped up in his own world he’s not looking right in front of him.”

He watches as you take a sip of the warm drink. It provides no comfort to you as it usually would. You feel empty. Just as you place the drink down you hear San enter.

There’s nothing but pity in his eyes.

The cycle continues and he’s not sure how much longer he can let it go on.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like being at the beach on a sunny day. It’s warm for a moment before it gets too hot and you get burnt. You’d endured it for so many visits so what’s one more, after all you’ll be out of it soon. It’s hot in the house, there are too many bodies and not one window open. Wooyoung had told you it was a nice gathering between friends and not a full blown party, hence the long sleeve shirt and jeans. He lied to you but at least the rest of the group is here.

“I was hoping to see you again! Our meeting was cut short last time!” Sumin rests her elbow on your shoulder and shouts over the music. She offers you some of her drink but you have your hand to decline it. “You don’t drink?” You shake your head, causing her to laugh. “That’s a shame! We could have been drunk buddies! Wooyoung said you were once!”

Ah. Those times. The reason you stopped drinking. “Not anymore! But thank you for the offer!” She smiles and leaves you alone, going somewhere to the sofa’s to mingle some more.

The music feels like it’s getting louder and you begin playing with your sleeves, scratching up your hand as you do. It begins to hurt but you ignore it the best you can and focus on finding someone you know. Your best bet is Seonghwa being in the kitchen, making sure people drink safely and responsibly so you go there.

It takes some pushing and small excuse me’s that go ignored to get there but in the end you do. He’s keeping it as clean as he can while staying out of everyone’s way, it’s in his nature after all. He silently gives you a comforting smile as you walk his way.

“I didn’t think you come.” He speaks into your ear.

He leans down to your heightso you can reply in the same manner. “I thought it was just us. That’s what he told me.” Seonghwa pulls back, just as confused as you were when you arrived. You pull him back in to defend Wooyoung but he doesn’t give you the chance, instead he speaks to you.

“Friends don’t do that, you know that.” He shakes his head and cleans some cups on the side.

You reply. “It’s just how he is!” But you’re not sure he hears you.

As he busy’s himself you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. With the amount of times it goes off you could mistake it for a call, but it’s not. It’s Wooyoung.

hey

heyyyyyyy

hey hey hey

are you here

sumin asked if you’re here

you’re bffs now she says

WEREH SO BFFS NWU

that was sumin

d'you make it or not

can it woo

you lied

now where are you?

He leaves you on read and you sigh. Just as you go to put your phone back he pipes up again.

you know i didn’t mean to

welllllll

bathroom

su thinks she’ll be sick

ok

Read 22:13

This time you successfully put your phone away and bid Seonghwa goodbye, although you aren't sure he can hear you considering the volume of the music and the constant chatter. You push through the group of people in the doorway as politely as you can and make a beeline for the stairs.

The crowding on the stairs didn't slow you down, you came to see Wooyoung but now that Sumin is (supposedly) being sick you want to make sure she's alright.

The bathroom door is wide open, a couple in there all over each other, so you knock on his bedroom door just a couple meters away, assuming she's in the suite. You continuously knock without receiving a response. It takes you a couple minutes to decide what to do. You could go downstairs and see someone you know or you could go home or you could go and see Wooyoung like you said you would. How could you ever knowingly let him down?

You shout that you're coming in before opening the door and the sight you're met with makes you freeze. Much like the couple in the bathroom they're all over each other. Lips and hands constantly moving to cover more area. Each movement more desperate than the last as they pull each other closer. You can't watch any longer and slam the door shut behind you as you leave. You don't know if either of them spot you and you don't want to stay long enough to find out.

You shoot down the stairs just as quick as you went up them. Seonghwa watches you from the kitchen doorway and tries stop you however his efforts are in vain when you rip your wrist out of his grip without slowing your pace. He sees you go through the front door and sighs as he catches a glimpse of Wooyoung coming down the stairs.

"Is she here?!" He shouts over the music as best he can, San, Seonghwa and Yunho are all in his line of sight but they all look at him before going back to what they were doing. He does some extra searching around the first level of his house but his efforts come up short. You aren't with any of their mutual friends or your usual spots.

Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe you left after you realised it wasn't a meet up. Maybe you left when he wasn't there when you got here. Maybe you never came at all. Maybe you came upstairs and opened the door and saw him and Sumin before promptly leaving because who would want to walk in on their best friend and their partner making out? He surely wouldn't want to walk in on you doing that.

Wooyoung opens the front door in order to let some air in as he tries to figure out what's going on. After all that over thinking he's quite confused when he sees you sitting on the curb at the end of his house with Yeosang at your side.

He considers walking over to the two of you but you lean your head against Yeosang’s shoulder and he decides to stay back. He watched from afar as you speak to each other, he can’t make any of it out and he assumes by the closeness that he should leave it alone.

“I just went in. I knocked by no one answered. I upset myself in theory.” You laugh quietly.

He shakes his head. “Not really. You thought she was being sick. Wooyoung doesn’t like sick so you did what you thought was right.”

“It’s his room and I just walked.” You look down and shuffle your feet uncomfortably, thinking back to the scene.

“You usually do, it’s nothing new.” He peers over his shoulder as best as he can and he’s sure he sees Wooyoung watching you from the corner of his eye. Wooyoung notices and pushes the door shut slightly to cover himself.

“I just want to go home now.” You stand up and Yeosang follows suit.

He reaches out for you but you start walking away. “Let’s get something to eat. You’ll just sit and wallow in self pity at home.”

“It’s better than seeing them.” You wipe your eyes, a movement both boys watching you catch up on. Before Wooyoung can even consider comforting you his friend jogs slightly to catch up to you.

He goes back inside and shuts the door behind him. Both you and Yeosang hear the door shut and you look at him as he sighs. He reaches out to wipe your tears and pulls your eyes away from the door.

“What do you want to eat, hm?”

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching snow fall and land on wet pavement. The snow won’t settle, so why try. It's so pretty but at what cost? Wooyoung looks at Sumin with so much love, it's the same way you look at him San says. But if it was why can everybody but him see it?

"Did you end up coming over last week?" Sumin diverts the conversation towards you, getting too shy to talk as Wooyoung stares at her.

You wave your hand dismissively and swallow your drink. Her question makes Wooyoung look at you and you softly punch his shoulder as he sits next to you. “Only for a couple minutes because someone said it was a gathering between friends, not a party with everyone he knows.” He laughs and so do you to hide how annoyed you really are, this makes San stare at you from across the table but you slightly shake your head at him.

“Oh!” Sumin exclaims. “Wooyoung said you guys used to party all the time. Are they not your scene?”

“They never really have been, I only went because I was 18 and he wanted me out my dorm room.” You sigh.

“Books were your life back then, one of us had to do it.” San pipes up, sipping his coffee, amused. The other three laugh as you jokingly frown at San.

Silence falls over the table as all of you dig into the cakes in front of you and drink your lukewarm beverages. You can see San’s eyes flick from you to the couple as they feed each other, you try to pay no mind to it but he watches your shoulders slump the tiniest bit more and he can’t help but feel pity for you.

It’s past the lunch rush for Aurora hence the group gathering but you can’t help but feel like an outsider to the other three. Wooyoung and Sumin being in love and San not having to battle the same feelings as you makes it easy for him to speak. But every movement you make has you second guessing yourself. For comfort you end up watching Wooyoung, something you’ve done for a long time that you aren’t quite sure you can give up.

He’s so pretty and lovely and caring and kind and the thought of all that makes you want to fall for him all over again. He’s so happy to watch Sumin talk to San even though he’s the biggest chatterbox at the table, he’s so content that they’re getting along. His eyes tell you everything you need to know about how he feels and as comforting as they are how easily you can read them hurts. Because it’s not for you.

Sumin smiles at you and you shoot her one back. She doesn’t seem hurt or jealous or angry that you’re staring at her boyfriend, there’s an unreadable emotion in her eye that you can’t pinpoint but you know it’s not negative. San spots your interaction and sees you ever so slightly cringe and curl into yourself.

He takes this as a sign to go, as much as he knows you want to stay for Wooyoung (just for it to be like old times once more) he can’t bare the sight of you working yourself up and feeling like you make people uncomfortable. He’s seen it all before but this time it seems to be worse. Maybe it’s because he can see how in love Wooyoung is, how both of you know Sumin is the one for him and this is it, how you wished to be loved the way you love him. San stands up with a smile “I’ll pay for this one, Wooyoung you’re paying for the next.”

“You’re going?” Wooyoung goes to take his wallet to pay his and Simon’s portion but his friend dismisses just as fast.

“Mhm, we have to take Byeol to the vet. You know my sister doesn’t like doing it and I don’t like going alone.” He gestures for you to get up, which you do.

Wooyoung reaches out for your hand as you step out the booth and you feel him just graze your wrist, his movements causing you to move back. His touch burns, it hurts and you’re not sure why. All you know is that you can’t see him right now because everything is starting to hurt.

You can see Sumin from the corner of your eye as the gears begin turning in her head and she connects dots you wished she couldn’t. She’d caught you.

Quickly, you wave bye to the couple and Seonghwa behind the counter as he finishes up his shift and leave San to pay. Wooyoung considers going after you but Sumin shakes her head and he doesn’t. “Girl to girl, don’t worry.” Is enough for him to leave it alone. You’d never spoke to him about ‘girl problems’ before so if she knew, that was already more than him.

San comes outside and sees you sat on the curb with your hand on your chest. He can’t tell if you’re trying to slow your heartbeat or steady your breathing but he leaves you to it until you’re ready to talk.

“I’m a terrible person, San.” You look over your shoulder at him. “I like a guy with a girlfriend and she knows but that’s barely changed anything.”

“You don’t just like him, you’ve loved him since we were kids. No partner has ever changed that for you. You aren’t a terrible person, not when you liked him first.” He tries to reason. He reaches out to you and helps you stand up.

The pair of you walk to his car in complete silence. There’s nothing else that can be said because he’s right.

The car isn’t too far, just down the road, but it gives you time to think about your next steps. You could either come clean and move on, never mention it again or apologise to Sumin. Coming clean could ruin everything though and suffering in silence for too long can ruin a person but you have nothing to apologise for. You’re stuck in an endless loop of hurt.

As you slip into the passenger seat you can feel the dreaded vibration of your phone in your pocket. You don’t open the message, instead watch it come in on your lock screen.

I don’t blame you. You’ve known him for much longer and he cares about you. You haven’t done anything to come in between us so I can’t fault you. I won’t say anything if you don’t feel comfortable with it.

“Sumin knows.” You read the message out to San before turning your phone off in your lap.

“And how does that make you feel?” He tries to be empathetic as he starts the car.

“Pathetic.” Your phone lights up one more time but you flip it over after reading the next message.

Just don’t hurt yourself more than you have. A boy isn’t worth that much.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching the cherry blossoms flower and then counting the petals as they fall. The petals, although beautiful, are eventually forgotten about. You sit at the kitchen island, staring at the clock above the oven. 10:23pm.

Sighing you open your text thread with Wooyoung once again and check if he’s read any.

Today 11:14

what’s the plan then dude

it’s the 17th

Today 14:22

you missed the last one

you said we’d watch two movies to make up for it

doctor strange isn’t gonna watch itself??

Today 17:36

what are we doing????

wooooooyuuuuuuu

is it off??

Today 19:12

san came instead

thanks for letting me know you weren’t coming

Delivered

Just as you go to turn it off and head to bed you watch the ‘Delivered’ switch to ‘Read 10:24’ and your heart drops but you’re not sure why.

When it comes to Wooyoung you’re not sure about a lot of things but there’s not much you can do about it. You’re so used to feeling that way that, to you, at the end of the day it is what it is. It’s how you feel and you can’t help that, you just have to learn how to navigate it.

Your phone rings and you see his caller ID. Hesitantly you pick up, Lord knows what he’s going to say but you hope it’s along the lines of sorry.

“What’s with you and San recently?” He exhales.

You laugh quietly, he’s the pathetic one now. “Not even a hello?”

“I don’t show up so you replace me with San yet again?” You can hear shuffles on the other end of the line.

“Was I supposed to stay by myself on the day we have reserved for each ot- wait, you didn’t show up you’re right!” After turning the lights out and shutting off any electrics you need to, you go to your bedroom and put your phone on charge. “Hold on, you’re on speaker.”

“We were supposed to watch Doctor Strange together!” He argues.

You laugh at him, amused once again. “Wooyoung you didn’t show up and didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know you wanted to watch it with me when you didn’t have the decency to text me?”

“I forgot! I went out with Sumin and my time was taken up!”

“So why are you mad at me!”

The line goes quiet and you’re sure he’s put the phone down. After hearing some more shuffling from him that theory doesn’t stand. Either way he still doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know actually.”

“Meeting on the 17th is our thing and you forgot, we’ve done it every month since we were 15 Woo. You forgot, it was something you wanted to do and now you’re mad at me because I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

He falls quiet again and this time you put the phone down. You’re already hurting after being ditched but being ditched for Sumin (even though they’re together) on your day made it still just that tiny bit more.

You watch his caller ID show up on your phone again but you turn it off and flip it over on your nightstand. Before you lay in bed you flip down the picture of you and Wooyoung at your graduation that sat next to it.

He’d never forgotten before, he used to make a point that it was your thing not only to his partners but your own friendship group and yet he’s the one forgetting. He’s the one who’d got your hopes up only to leave you hanging.

You lay awake that night, overthinking. Staring at the ceiling of glow in the dark stars you and Wooyoung put up one night after watching The Blair Witch. Regardless of how you feel about him a friend doesn’t do this to a friend. He didn’t forget to go bowling with Mingi and Yunho. He didn’t forget to go to the lakes with Jongho. He had meetings with Sumin those days too. Were you just that forgettable?

Quickly you text your best friend, feelingly conflicted after putting the phone down and being shouted at for something that was entirely his fault.

it’s our thing

you left me and that’s on you

Delivered

You keep your phone open on the message screen expecting Wooyoung to be awake considering you know he has the next (or current, depending on how you see it) day off however nothing comes.

Instead you watch the ‘Delivered’ switch to ‘Read 04:25’ with no response.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like flipping through an old photobook as you fantasise about what could have been. It had been a while since the whole group were together (in a calm setting) but it had been a long time coming seeing how busy you had all been.

You can’t stay mad at Wooyoung for long, it’s been a week and you’re currently sat next to him on Ningning’s couch as she pulls out your yearbook. “Here he is,” she covers Wooyoung’s picture and shows it to Sumin who’s also sat next to him “we did let him walk around like this. I can only apologise.” She takes her hand off the picture and she immediately laughs.

“This is you?!” She points at her boyfriend only for him to look down and laugh. The rest of you laugh as well and she scoffs in amusement. Her eyes scan over the rest of the page. “You were all in the same class, that sounds like trouble.” She mutters jokingly.

“If you were looking for trouble it was these two.” Seonghwa point to you and Wooyoung. “Team Rocket over there.” He rolls his eyes, thinking of the many times he or Hongjoong had to free you from detention.

You lean back and pout. “It wasn’t even me, it was all him and I was taken in by association!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have associated with me then!” He fires back just as fast.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t!” Both of you roll your eyes at the same time causing the others to laugh once again.

It was nice to be in a friendly setting with everyone rather than stuck in a small space with the couple. You’d been seeing them at random times of the week, Wooyoung being the one inviting you out never Sumin. She text you from time to time however it was mainly to ask how San was and if you would both be seeing them soon as a group.

“How did everyone become friends then? I’ve never been with you all at the same time to know.” Sumin hand’s back the yearbook to Ningning and looks around expectantly.

“Ning and I are childhood friends.” You start.

“Then hell-spawn moved in next door.” Ningning glares at Wooyoung who does the same back.

Yunho smiles at the pair. “Mingi and I met them in middle school after Wooyoung tripped Ning into Mingi.”

“Jongho and I were always in the same classes and clubs.” You add.

“Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yeosang were in the high school student committee so they were running into these two all the time.” Mingi points to you and Wooyoung who frown at him.

Wooyoung mumbles quietly “No need to add that.” making Sumin laugh.

“And San joined my home room and just never left.” You smile at him which he returns pretty quickly. “Made me show him around the whole school only to find out he didn’t even go there.”

Sumin’s jaw drops in disbelief as she looks at San who nods with a cheeky smile. “Wow so you really have been friends for years!” She looks over the room. “It’s really nice to have you all be so welcoming no matter how long we’ve known each other.”

“Don’t worry about it, anyway come with me. I have so many good pictures of Wooyoung, you have to see them.” Ningning stands up and offers a hand to Sumin which she quickly takes, standing up too.

As they leave to the hallway people begin to funnel out of the front room and you follow Yeosang to the kitchen. You both silently make yourself drinks as well as pour some extras for everyone else. There’s a quiet sound of chatting coming from behind but you and Yeosang continue in silence.

He watches over you with a look that asks how you are and all you can do is shrug, there’s not much you can do about how you feel but live with it, you have for years anyway.

A call of your name from the hallway takes your attention away from the silent conversation so you put your drink down and instead you go and join the other girls as they look at photos. Sumin points to a picture on the wall of you and Wooyoung, both of you in relatively formal outfits that match to a certain level. “When was this?” She seems so innocently intrigued that you take it off the wall and let her hold it. She brings it closer to her face and comments about how small you both were.

You’re both stood next to each other timidly, his hand holding yours as you both smile. His purple tie matching your purple dress. The picture was taken by your mom but Ningning had begged for a copy.

“The night after graduation, right?” Ningning leans it towards herself slightly.

The night after graduation. The night where Wooyoung pulled you away from the makeshift gathering you and everyone else in your year were having to tell you that he decided not to go to his dream college even though he was accepted. He told you he couldn’t go because he didn’t want to be far away from you because best friends don’t just up and leave each other.

The night where you almost had your first kiss, with Wooyoung at that. The only reason it didn’t happen was because Seonghwa thought something bad had happened (you guys were away for 30 minutes to be fair) but instead walked in on your lips just barely grazing each others. He left but that didn’t matter because the moment was gone. So you both settled on holding each other close and slow dancing until you were too tired to do it anymore.

The night your crush on Wooyoung came into full effect and you fully believed that the moment between you at the gathering would lead to something more but instead it went unaddressed and ignored. Your heart clenches at the memory and you have to physically stop yourself from clutching your heart.

Ningning breaks you out of your daze by asking the same question as Sumin. She watches your heartbreak for your younger self as you think of the night, after all besides Seonghwa who saw you she the only other person who knows fully what happened that night. “Yeah, we had to make our own prom because our senior pranks went too far.” Both you and Ningning laugh at the memories while Sumin continues to look at the picture.

“Wooyoung come look at this!” She exclaims. He pops around the corner and she passes the framed picture to him. He falls silent just as you did and looks up at you. “You two were so little.”

“We were indeed.”

“You were matching too.”

“She had no other friends, someone had to go with her.” He laughs to himself before leaving quickly, Sumin follows after him while asking about the senior pranks he had commit.

Ningning turns to you and places her hand on your shoulder, she strokes the are with her thumb. She’s given you the same look so many times you don’t have to speak to her to know what she’s going to say, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway.

“Let it go, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not.” She tries to reason but you’ve already pushed her hand away from you and joined everyone else as they gather around the front room once more.

Loving Jung Wooyoung was like watching flowers die. Originally you cared for them but as time passes you realise can’t keep holding onto them. You realised this when Sumin text you last night asking if you and San would want to meet her and her boyfriend in a couple days to hang out. (She didn’t explicitly say ‘her boyfriend’ but saying ‘my Wooyoung’ was enough to make it sting a little.)

You responded to her a few hours later reminding her you and Wooyoung have plans, a text she leaves on delivered but you know she’s read it. So you’re confused when she walks in before your friend, she thanks him for holding the door for you and waves at you.

Wooyoung pulls out a chair for her across from you and then sits next to her. “I couldn’t leave Su behind, not if we’re coming here.” He holds her hand on the table. “It feels like it’s our place now.” You’re taken aback but you feel so much different from last time. You feel hollow, like an empty can that’s being kicked as someone walks down the street. It doesn’t hurt as much as you think it would, as much as it usually does.

“So what did you wanna see me for?” He keeps his body facing Sumin but looks your way.

“Just a catch up is all, we haven’t seen each other in a while.” Your statement makes the atmosphere awkward. You all know why you haven’t seen each other but it goes unsaid and instead makes Sumin put her head down awkwardly.

You lean back in your chair and cross your leg over the other. “How have you guys been then?”

“Well, we’ve been alright.” Wooyoung starts. “Su met my parents recently, that happened too.”

She nods. “They’re really nice.”

“How are you?” He follows up, looking away from Sumin.

“I’ve been good. San, Yunho and I have been hanging out loads, we’re going bowling with Ningning and Yeosang next Saturday so, yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Wooyoung leans back too, confused. “Where was the invite?” He tries to joke but it doesn’t come off as one.

“We sorted it in the group chat, you never replied so we thought you were busy.”

“Well I’m sure we can come right?” He looks over to Sumin who agrees, stating that their calendars are empty.

You shake your head and look down at the table. “We already booked it for five. We planned it like two weeks ago so.”

The table falls silent. None of you are too sure what to talk about. It’s true, you did call Wooyoung to catch up and hang out but with or without Sumin there wasn’t much to talk about. How do you catchup with your best friend who’s supposed to know everything about you? He spent all him time with his girlfriend, which is understandable, but it felt like he was leaving you behind. Not only you but the rest of the group.

There was nothing you could talk about, leaving the three of you sitting quietly looking around the cafe. It wasn’t the same as last time, this time you weren’t doing it because you were hurt or upset and didn’t want to look at the couple. This time you were doing it because it was awkward and there was nothing else you could say. You wanted to reconnect to Wooyoung but you didn’t know where to start.

You wanted to be his friend again.

That small realisation hits you hard. You weren’t stuck on him. You wanted to go back to the way it was before. You’d have to relearn everything about him but you were willing to do it if it all felt normal again.

There’s nothing you can say to fill the silence at the moment. All of you shift uncomfortably. Wooyoung wants to see you, Sumin doesn’t want to do anything that could upset you considering she knows (well, knew) about your feelings towards her boyfriend and you’re fighting yourself on what to do.

“I think I should go.” You announce, you aren’t sure to who but they both seem to take it on board. “I’ll see you around.”

You and Sumin give Wooyoung no time to argue as she assumes your seat and you leave, she smiles at you softly on your way out which you reciprocate quietly.

The scene mirrors the one when you first met her, only this time she knows you’re watching through the window but she pays no mind to them. You watch as she talks his ear off while he nods and agrees every now and then. He stares at her with an emotion you can’t quite read, perhaps you weren’t in love enough to know if it’s a stage of that or not.

Before you can think about your next steps your phone rings and you’re quick to pick up. “Hello, San.”

He makes a small sound of shock. “You sound much more joyful than I would have expected.”

Taking your eyes away from them you look up at the clear sky. “Yeah, well, it’s a good day.”

“That’s good.” San sounds just as content as you. “That’s what acceptance is like.”

“How would you know?” As if your brain is working on autopilot you begin walking toward Aurora.

You can hear some sort of movement on the other end of the line. “We’ve all been through it at least once.” Hearing Byeol meow at San as he walks past her makes you both laugh, her volume will never daily to make you smile.

Both of you stay quiet, the silence isn’t awakened like earlier or sad like last time, it’s nice. Neither of you had to fill the space or force anything, you see each other so often now that there’s nothing to update on.

His car door slams and his keys jingle. “Aurora?”

“Yeah.” Smiling, you cut the call off with the small cafe in sight.

Loving yourself after so long is like having a picnic in Summer. It’s bright. It’s warm. It’s enjoyable. San sits across from you on your blanket, empty food boxes around you and bottles of fizzy leaning against your leg, staring you down while he paints. He pouts as the 30 minute timer goes off, cutting off his playlist when it does.

“Hey drop the pout! At least you’re not doing this with Hongjoong or Yeosang, they would have wiped the floor with both of us.” San pulls his painting closer to himself as you reach out for his. “Come on, I worked hard on this!” You plead but he shakes his head.

“Five more minutes?”

“No, we can flip them at the same time-“

“But you’re so much better than me at drawing!”

“I’m literally not!”

He finishes up some details before hesitantly handing you the small canvas, you do the same with a smile and at the same time you both flip them over to see the paintings.

San had (poorly) painted a portrait of you in the park you were sat in with the exact same setting behind you, a stream and flowers behind you. There were a few ducks painted on there too, all sat in a line. You smile at the painting, making San smile too.

He checks over your picture and immediately spots Byeol in the corner. It makes him smile, how much you love that cat.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect, I’ll put it up in my home office.” He puts the picture down and admires you staring down at his portrait.

You turn the paintings face up and leave them on the blanket to dry in the sun while you begin to eat any remaining snacks and fruit.

The whole experience is calming and comforting. “Next time we’ll have to bring Ningning and Jongho. There’s something there, I’m telling you.“ San laughs and shakes his head before offering you to feed you a strawberry which you gladly bite. “There is something there! There always has been! I’m telling you San!”

“Or we could bring Byeol on a harness and leash.”

“Why didn’t you say before we left?! She’s home alone on a nice day and we could have brought her with us!” Your phone begins to vibrate, presumably with texts, which you ignore to continue talking. “Next time it’s nice out we will.”

“Alright, promise?” He reaches his pinky over to you and you lock them. “Promised. Now are you going to get that?”

You push your thumb against his with a small smile. “We had to make it official first.”

Once you let go you pick up your phone, opening it quickly to see where the notifications were from only to see _ on your messages. Opening the app you realise they’re all from Wooyoung.

Today 13:16

r u busy rn

can I come over

I’m freaking out rn

I think su is done with me

what do I do

what do women do

how do I apologise

nvm she doesn’t want me to apologise

she wants time

what does that mean

i’m out with san right now

i told you two days ago

but it’s our first fight

you should probably message hongjoong

he’s good with stuff like this

pleas dude

wooyoung i can’t help

sorry

You put your phone back down without awaiting his response. “He fought with Sumin and he wants to know what to do.”

“Are you going to see him then?” San seems slightly nervous about your answer which thankfully goes unnoticed by you. Once you shake your head you can see him visibly relax.

Lying back you laugh at him. “Why would I?”

“You usually do.” He reasons, moving to sit down next to you.

“Fair.” You turn your head towards him and squint to see him. “Well, I’m here with you so there's no need to go anywhere. do you want me to go?"

San lifts up his hand to block the sun out of your eyes, letting you look at him properly. "No." He shakes his head while biting his lip.

"Then I won't." You move your own hand away from your eyes and rest it on your stomach as you close your eyes. "It's been really nice today, thank you. I think we should do this more often, with Byeol next time."

"That would be nice." He's thankful that you can't see him because he's sure that the face he's pulling right now isn't the best, he's trying to find the right words for what he's about to ask. "Do you think we could, possibly, may- Never mind actually.” He shakes his head and looks around the park awkwardly.

“Maybe next time we could make it a date. I don’t want to jump into anything now after everything but I think, if you’re willing to wait, we could try.” You turn your head away from San and sigh.

He smiles to himself. “I’ve waited for a while, what’s a couple more months.” Both of you quietly laugh at his comment. “Don’t fall asleep now, we’re yet to go on the swings.”

“Oh, leave me alone! I’m just resting my eyes!”

Loving you is like dreaming. It’s so incredible, it’s everything you want. Except when you when up you have to face reality and it’s difficult. That’s how Wooyoung feels as he watches you laugh at a joke Yunho says he doesn’t find all that funny, maybe it’s because he leaned in and told you personally and Mingi and Yeosang laughed because they just caught him saying it. You laugh so hard a hand rests on your stomach while the other hits Yunho’s shoulder.

“You’re staring holes into him.” Jongho comments beside him. Wooyoung continues to watch you from the other end of the table as you place some meat from the small barbecue onto Mingi and Yeosang’s rice while telling Yunho to get his own. “Wooyoung eat your food or go.” Jongho repeats your gesture but gives himself and his sulking friend meat instead, Seonghwa scolding him as he does.

Ningning sits across from Wooyoung and shakes her head. She glances over at San who watches you attentively, a smile slowly forming on her face. He stares at you with that same look you used to have when staring at Wooyoung and it’s enough to let her know you’ll be alright. She’s glad it’s him. Anyone else and she would have had her doubts but San stuck with you throughout all your hardships and struggles, even if he hurt himself along the way. Again, much like you did with Wooyoung but you’re past him now.

Wooyoung looks across at Ningning and follows her eyes to San. He’s brought straight back to reality. A cold feeling washes over him. He’s confused but when everything clicks his heart burns. His face mimics yours when you first met Sumin as he begins to notice all those small things he didn’t before.

How you left soon after meeting Sumin. When you lied about seeing them together that night (something neither of you have ever addressed, he’s not sure why). Why you were upset about being left on your day. All the uncomfortable moments and shifting when they spoke to you about you.

“It’s not… fair.” He whispers, Jongho is the only person that catches it and watches him leave. The group turns to him as his seat screeches when he leaves. He meets your eyes and for a second he spots understanding which is then followed by guilt. Jongho goes after him as he makes his exit, leaving everyone else to continue their conversations and eating.

Ningning follows suit too, leaving the two hotheads alone would result in an outburst you don’t deserve and as your longest friend all she ever wanted was your happiness. Wooyoung’s ruined it once she she’ll be damned if she lets it happen again.

Both Jongho and Ningning stare at him with pity as he watches you, San and Yunho laugh together. “It’s as if I hadn’t just left. I feel so-“

“Invisible?” Ningning leans towards him slightly. He nods and looks between you and San. “You can’t expect her to pay attention to you all the time.”

Wooyoung doesn’t come back inside even after Ningning and Jongho do instead the pair of them watch him through the window as he leaves. Both you and San see him from the corner of your eyes but by the time you’re properly looking he’s gone.

Instead he walks all the way back home, leaving his stuff behind in the process. It’s late and the street lights barely work but he’d rather be alone. It’s probably not the best to be alone with his own thoughts and feelings but it’s better than seeing you and San.

In the restaurant Jongho and Ningning watch their friend’s phone vibrate, it’s the third time ‘Sumin 💕🎀’ has shown up on the screen. Both of them leave it alone as they continue eating.

There’s nothing they could do but watch the cycle repeat. You’d both put each other through it unknowingly, only a little too late.

#RINA’S FICS #ateez #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez scenario #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #kpop imagine #wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x y/n #ateez wooyoung #ateez wooyoung x reader #san #ateez san imagine #ateez san x reader #ateez san #san imagines #san imagine #san x reader #ateez oneshot #wooyoung angst #san fluff

[gffa]

There is truly something to stepping away from the arguments on-line in fandom over stupid stuff (important matters still discussed, but the non-essential stuff can go) that has brought back my passion for Star Wars. I was so burned out on all the stupid fucking discourse, all the snippy vagueblogs aimed in the direction of fans like me, all the racing to the least compassionate take one could find, all the leaping to treat real people like crap over fictional characters. But I stepped back for a few months. I spent a couple more months in other fandoms. I took my time on-line down to a fraction to focus on IRL projects and recovery from family stuff. And when I wandered back into the thick of it again, I was going back with the idea that my time was more important than wasting it on stupid arguments or people who cared more about fictional characters than they do about real people. I have my friends that I vibe with, I don't need to care about what new Star Wars says or does, my only job with Star Wars anymore is to find the things I enjoy. If I don't like something, boom, it's gone from my mental landscape, it's garbage and I don't care if other people love that garbage, I don't want it in my house, it's outside now. As cliche as it is, taking time to step back, not even fully leaving, just distancing myself for awhile, then coming back with the mindset of "enjoy it or don't, I don't have to take any of this into my mental landscape of what Star Wars is to me", has allowed me to find that love again. Tell fandom to fuck off, but then you actually have to take that garbage out of your mind, too. It's garbage, you don't need to argue with it, you don't need to adapt it into your house decor, you don't need to acknowledge it beyond bagging it up and taking it outside, whether it's fandom nonsense or something stupid Star Wars itself did. Take a break, find something else to do for a month or two, and it might help you realize, oh, you can hit the bricks if something sucks. Even if you stay with the rest of Star Wars, you don't have to get into that nonsense over there, just like the movies you like, the shows you like, the books you like, and genuinely ignore the rest, it no longer exists. You can just stick with your five friends to discuss things with, you can just make your own content about the parts you do like, that's all fandom needs to be. And doing that has made me love Star Wars all over again.

#lumi.txt #star wars #fandom

[ingravinoveritas]

Just saw a post as well as a thread on Twitter about an incident that occurred at the stage door of Nye tonight and I am so sad and sickened to hear about this "fan's" behavior, both toward Michael and toward other fans. I've done many stage doors in the past (the most recent was going to see Ink on Broadway just before the pandemic) and seen a lot of entitled/unruly behavior from fans, but this woman and her mother barging into the bar, demanding a meet and greet, and then coming out and being horrific to other fans really takes the cake.

Michael works his ass off for endless hours to put on an amazing show every day/night. He gives 110% to every line, every step, every note in that musical number. Nye is a physically demanding play/role, and to get a show of that caliber from someone who is a master of his craft is more than anyone could ask for. Stage door--as lovely as it is, as fun as it can be--is not something he is required to do, especially when he's already feeling exhausted or under the weather. One thing the last several months have made clear is that Michael loves meeting fans--taking pictures, giving hugs, signing stuff, and just connecting with people. But the fact that this is not even the first time we've heard about fans going into the bar to bug him should be more than enough to give us all pause.

No one is entitled to Michael's time or attention. This particularly reminds me of an incident on Twitter a few years ago where one fan and their friends would not stop tagging Michael and demanding that he say something they wanted him to say. He'd been so incredibly giving and generous of his time with fans up until that point...and yet the second he drew a boundary, that fan and some others turned on him. Amazingly, that alone didn't put him off of engaging with the fandom entirely, but I have been in enough fandoms in my life to know that it is exactly behavior like this that will ruin things for everyone.

It also seems that Michael did come out following this incident tonight but had to leave, and he actually apologized to the nice fans who were still waiting (while apparently looking visibly upset himself). I know he apologized once before as well after a different fan went into the bar to get him, but we're beyond absurdity at this point. That Michael feels compelled to apologize for something that was not even his fault and especially after what that fan did absolutely breaks my heart, and is something that just should not be happening.

The run of Nye at the NT is nearly over, and I hope this won't put him off of doing stage door in the future (either for the remainder of this run or when it transfers to Cardiff), but I honestly would not blame him one bit if it did. What a loss it would be, though, both for the fans and for Michael...

#michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #nye the play #national theatre #why do people do this #also if anyone wonders why I'm almost hoping David doesn't do a stage door for Macbeth #this is why #i can't even with this nonsense #for this woman to then try and ruin it for other fans is especially disgusting #but i saw behavior like this in my old fandom #and it is a truly ugly thing #and Michael does not deserve this one bit #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 4]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi take the next step in their fake relationship

a/n: this one’s pretty long, hopefully it’ll tide y’all over for a bit 💋

word count: 2.6k

masterlist w/ all parts

“I don’t know, I guess we just kinda grew on each other.”

Paige and Azzi stood weakly under the scrunity of their entire team, hands interlocked. Paige hoped the younger girl couldn’t feel the sweat in the palm of her hand. Lying to Geno was no issue, but to her best friends that knew her almost as well as she knew herself? Damn near impossible.

After aggressively interrogating the new “couple” with question after question, the team finally seem somewhat satisfied by their answers and stopped the barrage, leaving Paige and Azzi alone in the kitchen of the locker room.

“Holy hell,” Azzi breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as the last of their teammates left the room. “Good thing we went over our story like a hundred times. That was rough.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t hurt you to practice lying a bit,” she remarked, wiping the sweat off her brow with a Gatorade towel.

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek. She hated when Paige made infuriating offhand comments like that, making her feel so inferior without even trying. “I’m sorry I’m just not naturally good at deceiving others,” she snapped.

The other girl stared at her before turning around to rummage through her locker. “I’m carrying most of the weight of this whole act, and you know it.”

The tension between the two of them returned, and they both changed in silence. Azzi mentally kicked herself. They were supposed to be on the same team now. No one on the team would keep on believing their act if her and Paige were always picking fights with each other. She might as well attempt to become friends with Paige, or as close to friends as she could get, so that their plan wouldn’t get ruined.

“Look,” Azzi sighed, breaking the silence, “we should probably like go somewhere and do something together.” Seeing the confused look on Paige’s face, she rushed to forge towards. “Not like a date, you know, but no one’s gonna believe we’re dating if we’re being nasty to each other. We should probably get to know each other and stuff.”

Paige nodded. It seemed like she was understanding Azzi’s idea until she said, “so you wanna get all up on me?”

“Oh my god, Paige-”

Paige’s eyes twinkled in amusement, having gotten the reaction that she wanted. “I’m messing with you. Yeah, that sounds fine.” She checked her watch. “Actually, you free right now?”

Azzi looked at her in surprise. “Why? You wanna go now?”

Paige threw her shoes in her backpack and zipped it up. “The sooner the better, am I right? Your car or mine?”

“I’ll drive,” Azzi offered. She figured she might as well take as much control over the situation as she could. It would be a lot easier for her nerves to quiet down if she had the wheel in her hands, literally and figuratively.

————————

Azzi rolled down her window, trying not to steal too many glances at Paige. They were painfully silent - the only sound in the car was some terrible country music filtering in from the radio. Azzi had initially connected her AUX, but decided that she didn’t want Paige to judge her music taste.

After a few minutes, Paige had had enough. “Bro, can we turn this shit off or play something else?” she begged, her tone dripping with annoyance.

“A please would be nice,” Azzi griped, resisting the urge to turn the volume up louder just to irritate Paige even further.

Paige folded her arms, hitting her head against her seat with an exaggerated thump. “Who even listens to the radio anymore?” she muttered under her breath. “It’s like I’m in a car with my grandma.”

“I’m not putting my playlists on just so you can shit on that too,” Azzi responded dryly.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Paige muttered. Then in a louder voice, “Can I play my music then?”

“We’re almost there. You can’t sit for another two minutes?”

Paige huffed. “Where are you even taking me?” She made a show of looking around their surroundings at the streets.

“Relax, it’s a good spot. They have good tacos.” Azzi smiled at the thought of biting into one of those mouth watering, juicy, shrimp tacos with the lime salsa she loved so much. Even if Paige was being an ass, at least she’d get to eat well.

When they reached the location, Paige was pleasantly surprised. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been this. They were at an outlook on a hill, a little green park with some old town restaurants and stores nestled in the corner. The hill overlooked the city below, the entire atmosphere bathed in a soft pink light from the setting sun.

“Damn,” Paige whistled, taking it all in. “You did good for our first date.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed a light pink and she look away, tucking in one of her braids behind her ear. “This isn’t a date.”

Paige bit her lip. She loved when she got Azzi all flustered. Not because she thought it was cute, Paige reminded herself. She just liked to annoy her. “Oh really? I was gonna pay for your food, but I guess not,” Paige joked, dodging when Azzi tried to hit her.

Paige didn’t really know how the two of them so easily switched between frosty exchanges like the one on the car and then light-hearted moments like these. You guys were fickle.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Both of you had gotten your tacos, and were sitting at one of the picnic tables scattered next to the Mexican joint.

“I mean, we already got our story done.” Azzi carefully drizzled her tacos with salsa. “I think it’s the chemistry part of all it. We have to really sell that we’re dating through our behavior.”

Paige nodded in agreement. “Yeah. But we should probably set up some boundaries first.”

Azzi’s heartbeat quickened at that. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of the extent your fake relationship would go to. She’d already accepted hugging and hand holding and other basic forms of PDA - they wouldn’t be able to sell their act without it. But she shivered at the idea of there ever being a situation where you guys would have to kiss.

“I’m a pretty touchy person,” Paige admitted. “The whole team knows that. So you’re gonna have to deal with a lot of contact, or else they’ll know something’s up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Azzi muttered. Paige looked up at her, studying her with a small smile on her face.

When she kept on smiling, the dark haired girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Paige was full on grinning now, as if Azzi had just the funniest joke ever. “Come here,” she motioned her head to the spot next to her on the bench.

“Go there?” Azzi rumpled her eyebrow quizzically. “My seat right now is perfectly fine, thanks.”

“Don’t be annoying.” Paige said. “Just come here.” Knowing how stubborn she was and that she likely wouldn’t stop bothering her until Azzi agreed, she gave up, pushing her food to the other side of the table and walking around to join Paige.

Easeinf her way onto the seat, she made sure to leave a gap between them. “Now what?”

Paige’s eyes flicked to the gap inbetween them and she rolled her eyes. “Why are you so far? Come here.” She reached out and wrapped her arm around Azzi’s waist, easily moving her so that the entire sides of their bodies were now flush against each other.

Azzi felt slightly lightheaded, but she blamed the feeling on the fact that she wasn’t a very touchy person in general and wasn’t used to this much contact with anyone in general. “Are you gonna tell me why I’m basically on you?”

“If you wanna sit on my lap, just say so,” Paige teased. When she was met with nothing but raised eyebrows, she said, “We gotta practice the public displays of affection and stuff. It needs to be able to come out of us naturally. We can’t be just be awkwardly holding hands, you know?”

Paige was smarter than Azzi gave her credit for, but she still didn’t like this feeling she was getting, all riled up with her heartbeat quickening from touching Paige. They were so close that Azzi could smell the perfume that the blonde must have sprayed on her neck, all sweet and fragrant.

They ate like that, without a single inch of space between them. It wasn’t as awkward as Azzi had thought it would be. It almost seemed natural, the way their bodies were so intimately pressed together. It was nice, Azzi thought, the warmth of someone next to you. She could understand why some people’s love languages were physical touch.

“Hey, are you Azzi Fudd?” Two giggly girls had approached their table. The one who had spoken had wide eyes and a breathy laugh.

“I am,” Azzi gave them a small smile. She agreed happily when they asked for photos and a signature; she loved UConn fans, and it was nice being recognized out in public every once a while. It made the sweat and tears that she’d dedicated to her sport worth something.

The girls were excitable though, and every time Azzi tried to end the conversation, they brought up another thing. Azzi could feel Paige fidgeting behind her, itching to get away from the curious but increasingly nosy questions of the girls. She tapped her foot against the pavement and sighed loudly. But Azzi ignored her, enjoying Paige’s growing exasperation.

But finally the girls seemed to take a hint, thanking Azzi profusely as they left. She looked over at Paige, who had already started throwing away her food and heading back to the car.

Furrowing her brow, she started to jog after the blonde. “Thanks for waiting,” she joked sarcastically once she caught up. Paige pursed her lips and continued walking, this time at a faster pace. “Are you trying to run away from me? Have you forgotten we’re heading to the same place?” Azzi puffed out, trying to keep up.

“You know, people don’t usually spend half of a date talking to someone who isn’t their date,” Paige responded, the harshness in her tone catching Azzi off guard.

Then realization dawned on her. Paige Bueckers was jealous. It surprised her somewhat - everyone knew Paige enjoyed being the center of attention. She just didn’t know that Paige could be jealous when it came to her attention. And she didn’t necessarily hate it.

“Hold up, Bueckers.” Azzi’s lips quirked up. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Paige snorted. “You wish. It’s just that the whole point of coming here was to work out any holes in our plan, yet we didn’t discuss it at all.” She sped up even faster, and Azzi grabbed her elbow, forcing her to spin around to face her.

“Are you mad?” Azzi asked, amusement still lingering in her eyes. When Paige didn’t respond, she stepped closer, brushing a blonde strand behind her ear. “Did you wanna practice, Paige?” She said, voice a whisper now. Deciding to have a little fun, Azzi let her gaze drop down to Paige’s lips before looking up at her through her lashes.

Paige visibly swallowed, and Azzi relished in the effect she was having on the girl. She was used to making Paige mad, making her voice rise and cheeks flush in frustration, but she could get used to this - making Paige nervous, making her heart race.

“Practice what?” Paige rasped out. Her eyes were focused on Azzi’s lips, so Azzi wet her bottom lip, letting her tongue slowly run over.

“You know,” Azzi purred, now bringing her hand up to run her fingers up Paige’s bicep. She danced her fingertips Paige’s skin, not letting it stay in one place for too long.

Paige exhaled, moving to bring Azzi closer to her before Azzi burst out with a laugh. “Oh my god,” she cackled. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Paige stepped back, her jaw clenched. If Azzi didn’t know better, she would think that Paige looked hurt, with her eyebrows dipped down and expression rigid, but she brushed it off. There was no way Paige cared enough about kissing her to actually be disappointed.

“I guess my flirting skills are getting pretty good, eh?” Azzi teased, but the other girl didn’t even look at her. This continued the entire way home, Paige staying silent while staring out the window, their dynamic now back to its fluctuating state.

“Are you mad or something?” Azzi asked once she had parked outside of Paige’s apartment. Paige ignored her, trying to open the door. Azzi smirked as she saw Paige struggle with the handle before realizing that she’d turned child lock on.

Giving up, the taller girl crossed her arms. “No.”

“Then why are you being all moody? Is this cuz I was flirting with you?”

Paige sucked in a breath, her cheeks hollowed. “What do you want me to say?” It was a genuine question, because even Paige wasn’t sure of why she was feeling like this. Her entire body had thrummed when Azzi had looked at her lips, and for some unknown reason she’d wanted to bring Azzi closer, to see what she tasted like. It was completely and wholly alien. Up until now the only thing she’d wanted to do to Azzi was bounce a basketball off the side of her head. And now Azzi’s pretty pink mouth was stuck in her head, had been burning in her mind the entire ride back.

Azzi shrugged, and that’s when Paige decided to take back the wheel. “You were right, actually. We should practice kissing,” she announced, feeling satisfied once Azzi’s eyes widened.

“Why?” Azzi stuttered.

Paige leaned over the console, a fiery look in her eyes. “You were all confident back at the park. What happened?” She challenged.

Azzi swallowed her nervousness. Cocking her chin, she said “I’m just scared you might pass out. You were a little bit too disappointed back there when I pushed you away.”

The girls’ eyes locked in a staring contest, both of them refusing to back down.

Until Paige opened her mouth, and blurted out, “I’m going to kiss you.” Azzi stared at the older girl, shocked by the abrupt bluntness of her statement. They both continued to look at each other, and when Azzi didn’t say anything, Paige leaned in, pressing her lips to hers.

Instinctively, Azzi brought her hand up to Paige’s cheek, and Paige tilted her head slightly, leaning into her warm touch. Paige’s lips parted, and Azzi took that opportunity to brush her tongue against hers.

It was like everything was moving in slow motion. Paige couldn’t even believe that she was kissing Azzi, the girl she’d gotten into more arguments with than she’d ever had with all of her teammates combined. Azzi, who always made her head spin and blood pressure rise. Azzi, who was annoyingly good at basketball, who knew how to get under her skin and press her sensitive spots. Except now she wanted Azzi to press different sensitive spots.

Paige was gentle and her lips so much softer than Azzi had expected. As they kissed, she let her fingers slip into Paige’s hair, feeling its soft silkiness. Her nails scraped Paige’s scalp, eliciting a soft groan from the blonde’s lips.

After what seemed like forever, they broke apart, panting and staring at each other in disbelief. Azzi licked her lips, now swollen, studying Paige, whose pupils were dilated and hair slightly mussed up from Azzi’s hands. Paige’s eyes, so pretty and blue, fluttered closed for a second before she reached for the handle of the car. “It’s getting late,” she swallowed. “I should probably go.”

Without a word, Azzi unlocked the car, watching as Paige hurriedly gathered her things and left. She walked briskly away with her head down, not looking back once. Once she’d disappears into the building of her apertment, Azzi groaned, letting her forehead rest against the wheel. What the fuck had they just done?

#paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconnwbb #wcbb #wbb #enemiestolovers #pazzi

[mixelation]

i got yet another comment confused about mutagenicity's itatori so i guess i will write. what are these called. a shipping manifesto???

so first i will disclaim that this ship started as a joke and then proceeded to have me waffle around what i thought the dynamic would be, so some posts probably contradict each other. i was also on the fence about producing shippy content of tori with ANYONE for a while (i have very obviously changed my stance on this lmao)

so first, context. tori and itachi have a long, complicated history with each other. in plasticity, tori makes it clear she has no interest in fucking with itachi's goals, but she's also fully and demonstrably capable of doing just that, even by accident. she is also, by the events of mutagenicity, the only person in the entire world who knows his full backstory. he actively recruits her to konoha both because tori Knowing Things means he needs to keep an eye on her (because who the fuck knows what she will do) but also because he sees her as a valuable ally.

tori spends plasticity both with anxiety that itachi might do something horrible to her, resenting him for the power he holds over her, and then also low key enjoying his company. eventually she will realize he'd probably make her best possible ally.

in mutagenicity, they end up close friends. this is both because they're on the same team and also because they are fucked up adults in tweenaged bodies. who else are they supposed to hang out with? actual children? i don't think either would rank the other as their BEST friend, but they are pretty close. itachi respects tori's skills from day 1 and will defer to her on certain topics, which is not something he will do for most people. tori agrees to high treason to kill danzo for itachi with zero questions, conditions, or asking for anything in return, which does absolute wonders for itachi's affection for her. they end up with a deep, mutual trust for each other, and they enjoy each other's company

the part that started as a joke (and i'm leaving in because i think it's 1) funny, and 2) a great way to spotlight itachi's insane personality) is that itachi decides they should date without telling tori.

the reason for this is basically that his clan duty is to marry and have kids, so around age 16 mikoto starts shoving girls at him. the idea here is: the uchiha are progressive enough that his parents would prefer a love marriage for their son, but the marriage does have to happen, and itachi has yet to show romantic interest in literally everyone. itachi's issue with this is that he..... kind of hates other people. he doesn't want to date random teenage girls, but mikoto is a seasoned social manipulator and he keeps ending up in situations like "alone in the park with some girl and they're both eating ice cream HOW DID THIS HAPPEN." also now suddenly women are interested in him because he's a well-known celebrated genius important clan heir. his life? is hell?

and then he realizes all his problems would be solved if he simply got his own girlfriend. so he sits back and reflects on "women my age that i wouldn't hate spending time with" and the only answer is tori. so he starts inviting her places and obviously she says yes because they are friends and she enjoys spending time with him.

eventually tori figures out he's.... dating her? and she gets mad and breaks up with him because THAT'S AN INSANE THING TO DO, ITACHI. but then after she cools off she decides, actually, this is a great arrangement. she DOES like hanging out with itachi, but he does this annoying thing where he'll disappear for months because he's bad at socializing, and if they're dating she can strong arm him into not doing that. a lot of typical date activities are fun and she likes having an excuse to dress up. she likes making him pay for stuff (tori is also horrible). she likes the trickery/deception angle. she likes the social advantage of having someone she can make go with her to events, the fact that having a boyfriend means sexual harassment goes down, the bragging rights, etc.

so tori goes back to him and proposes they "fake date" for mutual benefit. dw, itachi, tori is also a seasoned manipulator, and this will go SO MUCH BETTER for you if you let her be in charge of it. and itachi is like "she is SO right, what was i thinking, tori loves fucking with people's heads--" and they start dating again!

except they aren't like..... romantic. like, both of them, as people, are not super into romance. they don't give off Dating Vibes to most people, unless you're part of their inner circle, in which case you're just witnessing itachi and tori discovering they have a mutually compatible approach to dating and romance. they're both treating it like some sort of long-term mission because they're both morons in the same direction, but if you're like deidara or shisui or someone, you've just had the horrible realization that they're probably going to marry each other.

itachi and tori think they are in cahoots. it is only a bonus that the cahoots are fun. however yes at some point when you've committed hard enough and are having enough fun, the cahoots are simply a committed relationship

tori: hey, are you ever going to go find a wife? wasn't that the plan?

itachi: (imagines dating literally anyone else) (imagines being less close to tori)

itachi: (don'tlikethat.jpeg)

itachi: .......do you want to marry me

tori: hm

tori: (imagines not being with itachi any more) (doubt.jpeg)

tori: yeah that sounds good

#reborn au

[stormsplurge]

i can do it with a broken heart

warnings: smut stuff, handjobs, etc.

pairing(s): seth jarvis x fem! reader

okay this is kind of rough cause i actually lowk suck at writing smut but i cant get better without practice so! this is also like not proofread at all sorry, title is because of the taylor song except it kind of has nothing to do with the plot i was just listening to it when i got the idea and then it kind of just devolved into just smut instead of an actual plot

1071 words

two losses in a row.

two games full of stupid penalties, and dangerous hits.

it was frustrating, watching your boyfriend work his ass off only to have all the effort he put in fall flat once the final whistle gets blown, and part of your chest ached thinking about how he was handling it. 

everytime you watched seth get knocked into the boards you tensed up, immediately worrying about if he was okay or not. mentally and physically.

he had been hard on himself all season, trying to prove that last years sophomore slump was just that: a sophomore slump, and make his presence on the team known. but no matter how well he played the devil on his shoulder still told him he wasnt supposed to be there. 

there was also, of course, the added pressure of being in the playoffs. wanting to give it your all every night to get the veterans on the team to the final round, and feeling like youd let them down whenever you lose.

seth had been taking that part of playoffs especially hard, feeling like he owed it to burnzie to finally get him a cup. a thank you for taking him under his wing when he first got to carolina. 

he had been working on breaking his habit of getting in his head, and having a terrific series against the islanders certainly helped, but watching him on the bench you could see the gears turning in his brain and reverting back to his pessimistic tendencies. 

as much as you wanted to be with him in new york, you were forced to wait at home in raleigh for seth to come home. 

——

it was late when he got back from new york.

you were waiting in the living room, fighting back the fatigue that so desperately wanted to wash over you, willing yourself to stay awake until you boyfriend came home. 

the clock had just barely hit 12:30 when you heard the front door slowly creak open and all of seths bags hit the floor. 

jumping up from your spot on the couch you hurried over to the foyer where he stood, wrapping your arms around him and melting into his touch. 

“im so sorry” you whispered into his chest, rubbing circles into his back as you let him rest his head on yours.

seth didnt respond, instead opting for a single grunt like noise and tightening his grip around you. 

“are you okay?” you asked as you finally pulled your head from the hole it was digging in his sternum “i saw you taking advil on the bench”

“ill be fine.” he replied “i just want to stay like this”

“i know.” you mused, “but i have a better idea, lets take a shower. i can wash your hair and you can get that plane smell off of you before you get into bed.”

you got another grunt response, which you took as a yes, so you laced your fingers with his and led him towards the bathroom. 

you and seth helped each other out of your clothes, slowly peeling back layers upon layers of fabric. 

in a sense, it felt like you were tearing down the walls he’d put up in the couple of days hed been away. sanding down the mental dirt and grime that had slowly built up when seth was in new york. 

maybe it was the time apart, or the melting pot of emotions in the bathroom, but the second the two of you were under the spray of the showerhead seth pulled you into a deep kiss. 

his hands snaked around your waist as his teeth lightly bit down onto your lower lip, coaxing a whimper from your lips and turning your legs into jelly.

“i missed you so much” he mumbled into your mouth

“oh yeah?” you grinned, dragging your nails down his thighs and letting your fingers linger near the base of his cock. “prove it”

his dick twitched at the challenge, practically jumping into your hands as you began languidly moving your hands up and down his shaft. the mixture of shower water and precum coating your palms.

as you continued your sloppy handjob, seths hands made their way from your lower back to in between your legs. he’d pushed the two of you up against the shower wall and slightly hitched one of your legs up, allowing him access to your core.

his calloused fingers made their way atop your clit, smoother than usual due to the pruning the water was doing to them, but there was only so much water could do. and his free hand made its way to your nipples. gently pulling and twisting as the ball of nerves grows in your stomach. 

“im so close” you moan as you speed up your hands, trying to get seth to come at the same time as you. 

“so am i baby” he grunts out as he begins rutting his hips up into your hands. 

everything about this is sloppy. from the way his wet hair haphazardly falls onto his forehead when he looks up at you to the way your head digs into the tile behind you as you continue climbing towards an orgasm. 

the various moans, whimpers, and grunts filled the bathroom as the two of you finally reach your climax. 

ropes of cum splatter onto your hips before quickly being washed away by the stream of water from the showerhead, and you reach towards the loofah hanging on the door. adding a dollop of body wash before spinning seth around so you can clean the hard to reach places on his back. 

“i love you so much” he says. “thank you for doing this.”

“you dont need to thank me seth, we have sex all the time this is nothing new.”

“i know, but like- you know. thanks for doing all this. like knowing exactly what i needed after that shitshow game today.”

“oh seth,” you reply, spinning him around and taking his head in your hands. 

“i’m serious, i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” you say as you pull him into another kiss. 

as the water drips over you two you cant help but smile, satisfied with the fact that even though the canes had sustained two losses in a row, you were able to cheer your boyfriend up with a simple shower. 

#nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #seth jarvis x reader #nhl fic #seth jarvis #seth jarvis imagine #carolina hurricanes #nhl

[hecateslore]

💋☆

masterlist

You sat in bed waiting for Simon to bring you a glass of water like you requested, his phone was on the nightstand ringing making the table shake.

You bit the side of your cheek, eyeing the screen that was going off. ring after ring after ring, a small voice in your head told you to take the phone, check who it is, the other- louder voice told you to mind your business. So you sat on the bed with your legs crossed waiting for that glass of water.

Simon walked back in, taking a drink of your water. "Someone was calling you." You said, taking the glass from his hands. Simon scrolled through the notifications, then let out a frustrated sigh, rushing out of the room to take the call. You were still on the bed, waiting for him to come back in.

"What happened?" You watched him as he walked around the room searching for his clothes that had been thrown around the room. "Stuff." He mumbled, pulling a shirt over his head. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." he dismissed you, finally dressed, Simon kissed your cheek and went out in a hurry.

-

At work, you finished the evening rush, your feet aching and your head pounding from the lack of sleep you got over the weekend. It was your break, so you went outside and called Simon only for him to go to voicemail. The worry was starting to set in, he hadn't talked to you since Sunday.

"Can you let me know if you're okay." You finished the voicemail, biting your lip you tried to hold back the tears that were pooling on your waterline.

Once you got off work, You noticed Simon's car was still in the open parking of your apartment complex. His keys stayed on your counter, all his belongings were still at your house. You wanted to cave in and call one of the guys, just to check in- but you didn't.

You sat on the couch with a feeling of dread sitting in your stomach. Your phone rang, and you jumped to get it. An unknown number on your screen, you hung up (obviously not answering an unknown number.). a notification popped on your screen.

"it's me, answer."

"You alright" He chuckled, You almost sighing at the sound of his voice on the other end, "Where are you?" You asked, ready to scold him. "I'm on my way home." He says casually, "Are you okay?" You bite your lip, "I'm okay." He says casually, "You sound, not too great." You roll your eyes at him, "What happened to your phone?"

"Broken." He sighed, "I'm in the parking lot, unlock the door." Simon hangs up, you want to pull your hair out, break a vase, crack a bottle over his head- all of the things. But it all goes away the minute he walks through the door. A fresh bruise on his chin, already broken nose, cut for the thirtieth time (it feels like).

"Don't start." he holds a finger up silencing you, You keep your thoughts to yourself letting the giant man hold your for a moment.

"Where were you?" You said, your voice muffled from Simons chest, "Work." He says, smelling the top of your head. "your face doesn't look like work." You comment, Simon pulls away to look at you, "You look like you've been crying." He inspects your face, his touch soft.

"I'm always crying." You chuckled running your hands up and down his sides. Simon just stared at you, his brown eyes looked tired, sad even. "You okay?" You asked softly, Simon nodded, "tired," he said.

"Let's go lay down."

#biker!simon #baddie!reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon riley headcanons #lunden’s open mic ૮ ˆﻌˆ ა #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic

[11rosebunny]

Bofurin x shishitoren guys with a forward reader? Like, a girl that makes the first move and stuff, likes to gift them with food and bouquets (men deserve flowers too!!!!), loves spoiling them… the works!

Character with a direct!reader (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

Haruka Sakura

He really wants to beat the shit out of you. Normally speaking, you two are still generally friends that get along very nicely with each other and when you two decided to make it official, sometimes he regrets dating his best friend.

The overdoing of flowers, new white shirts (even though he has 5 of the same pair), hair products, anything like that, it makes him forget how much of a sweetheart he knew you as when he first started talking to you. He's not saying he's forgotten about your bubbly personality, but when you greeted him out in public with a loving kiss on his cheek, he stared back at his friends as if they just shot him.

Nirei and Tsugeura were the first ones to break the silence and yell out loud in utter shock when they saw Sakura's girlfriend for the first time. The white and black-haired boy didn't bother to tell anyone about your existence—let alone his love life. What made is worse was that many assumed he's never experienced any love due to how anxious and shy he gets whenever romance is brought up. All of their assumptions immediately disappeared when they watched you start talking to Sakura and asking if he ate.

"Maybe she's the reason why he's so shy?" Suo blinked at you from afar when Sakura had dragged you away and began to yell at you to not do that again.

"Y-you think?" Nirei watched you reply back in a lucky-go manner not understanding what you did wrong. All you did was greet your boyfriend.

Hajime Umemiya

Meeting you years ago and making it official, he didn't expect any less from you.

He's grown accustomed to they way your personality is like. The first time he met you, he was shocked to see a girl come around him at an easygoing pace and soon learned about the different qualities of your person.

Bubbly, buoyant, lively, and cheeky. It wasn't until you two started dating, then he noticed how much farther your personality runs. Toma has witnessed it all, you've come to school with gardening seeds for him, bought random t-shirts with idiotic designs which he happily took, wanting to hold hands all the time even in public, and even trying to pay for your own meal while being on a date with him. He was surprised you were still able to keep up your animated behaviour and it may have even worsened when you became his girlfriend.

It's now a running competition to him. When he realized you were the first one to make a move and nearly one upped him on every single gift he's ever given you, he's not going to lie—he started to get annoyed. So in return, he now sees it at how much better you can treat one another.

Toma Hiragi

It's like having another Umemiya to look after but instead it's a girl that's not afraid to show affection and that likes him.

Some have a hard time trying to process how you even managed to get ahold of the scary guard dog looking boy on a leash. Based on how all over the place you are, forward with compliments and romance, some wonder how he's still alive.

At first, you were just another person he treasured right next to his guy best friend. He's known you since middle school and you two ended up growing beside each other. But during in his High school era, that's when he grew feelings for you and is also when he thought it was the biggest mistake in his life to fall for someone like you.

Right off the bat, the way you'd wrap your arms around him, hold him close, and steal his very first kiss, he wants to shrink you into a ball of cheese and squeeze you to death. Luckily, he's very good at hiding his shyness whenever you make him blush. It's even worse if you kiss him out in public otherwise he might grab your head and shove you into the closest tree.

As much as it may seem like he despises you and acts like he doesn't like it, there would be nothing in this world he'd replace you with.

Taiga Tsugeura

It's really not bad. He doesn't get as shy or nervous, instead he actually much enjoys it because of how you're able to match himself.

He didn't think he was able to find someone that is equally as chaotic as him. He ended up confessing first by saying how much he loved the way you were disarranged (you don't know if that was a compliment or not?) and the way you made him feel. Doing so, the two of decided to date.

He wasn't even concerned with the way you kept showering him with affection, kisses, gifts like protein powder, new elastic headbands, and sandals until Kiryu had pointed it out how it seems like he's the girl in the relationship (he was joking).

He questioned what he meant and the boy explained that normally it's supposed to be the guy doing that. He blinked and thought about it for a few hours. Eventually, the next day he showed up to your house with a basket full of your favourite snacks, figurines, plushies, and gift cards.

You gave him his first kiss that day.

Mitsuki Kiryu

Weirdly, he doesn't really like those eccentric girls.

The way you two met was an accident. At first he found you very annoying but he never had the heart to tell you that, so instead he just lets you swarm around him hoping you'd go away one day.

Turns out you didn't and now he found himself dating the girl he didn't even want to like in the first place.

He's okay with you now, instead of getting annoyed he finds it funny with the way you conjure up gifts right out of you ass in the middle of no where. You two could be out walking in public and you could somehow pull out a keychain from one of his favourite mobile games and he's wondering what else can fit in that tiny pocket of yours.

He really enjoys it when you hold his hand in public, kiss him even, and shower him with love. It's very rare he gets shy and so normally, it looks like he appreciates it with the way you act.

Hayato Suo

He's the type of person to love these types of girls.

He really finds the way how kind you are and buoyant to be extremely adorable. He has a soft spot for things he finds cute, (he even said he finds it cute when children throw tantrums!) so it wasn't a surprise that he's thought about dating you more than once.

Eventually, he does.

He underestimated you a bit too much when he started to take note of how often you weren't afraid to show affection.

The scale: way too many times than he can count.

He loves to see how you will pull up your next move on him either it being compliments, gifts, or acts of service. He calculates this habit of yours purely because he wants to give back the same amount of affection at the same time.

It always freaks you out whenever you thought you did him better only for him to pull out something similar like already pre-paying for your lunch together.

Jo Togame

He finds it funny. Upon meeting each other for the first time, he genuinely thought you were stupid for trying to help a person like him. That was until he realized you weren't joking and you weren't afraid of his persona.

It made him eat his words and never wants to think that lowly of you again. But, he never tells you that.

He kept you around purely for his entertainment, until he accidentally found himself growing feelings that were a little too real. Even when you two got together for the first time, it sounded like you didn't have a choice to begin with regardless.

"Who said you could hangout with them?"

"What is this? Are we in a relationship now?"

"Yes. Now answer my question woman."

That was the first time he took you aback and the first time he's ever seen you act differently from your usual personality. Afterwards, you two continued like how you usually were plus more intimate activities.

It took him by surprise in a way that he's shocked that you're not shy around him. He digs the way you hold his hand, give him massages, play with his hair, and kiss him on his cheeks on a daily basis. He finds it cute with the way you're not afraid to do those things with him, even makes him feel more manlier.

Tomiyama Choji

He was surprised when he first came to acknowledge your weird behaviour. Normally speaking, he's the most eccentric person anyone has ever met. So when he finds someone that one ups him in those aspects, he's confused.

At first, he's almost a whole different person when he hangs out with you for the first few days. He's trying to understand how you can be so care free while remaining happy even when you have everything you need.

He thinks he hates you for the first few days till he starts to warm up around you.

Once you started dating, even with your loudness, you still managed to stop him from possibly burning down a car.

He knew that you were bubbly and cheeky as soon as he met you, so the kisses and constant hugs didn't really catch him off guard. However, when he realized it was becoming a daily thing, a tiny part of him began to panic because now you made it seem like he wasn't putting in any effort.

In return, he'll show you as much physical contact as he can.

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreakerxreader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura #haruka sakura x reader #jo togame #mitsuki kiryu #taiga tsugeura #toma hiragi x reader #toma hiragi #taiga tsugeura x reader #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo #mitsuki kiryu x reader #tomiyama choji x reader #jo togame x reader #tomiyama choji

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mrs. Norris (nee. Piastri) - LN4

After everything that's happened, Olivia expects life with Lando to be easy. Stress and overthinking get to her, when all Lando wants to do is take the next step.

lando norris x piastri!oc //(marketing ploy continuation one shot)

warnings/notes: overthinking/misunderstandings, Lando being a huge fucking softie, i like this better than the ENTIRE original mp storyline. oops.

Lando’s been weirdly avoidant and Olivia’s not sure why. The seasons not currently going on, winter break giving her and Lando a few weeks to decompress and be together. Except for when Olivia had to stay with Red Bull late most nights, crunching numbers, testing adjustments. She'd asked Oscar multiple times about how Lando felt with her being so late all the time or why Lando was being so secretive, but between doing stuff with Lily and training with McLaren, Oscar had never gotten back to her.

Which, she thought was stupid because Oscar was working with Lando. But she didn't press. She just threw herself into stress over it.

The shared Monaco apartment is breezy, a few of the windows cracked open to let out the nauseating level of cleaning supplies smell emanating from almost every surface. Olivia was a stress cleaner today, usually that role fell to Oscar, and yet here she was scrubbing down the fucking base boards. It had been almost a year into this relationship and if this was the first time he'd stressed her out this much (other than the whole... almost stopping the fake dating thing, which really was her fault) she'd be able to live with Lando forever.

As she stands up from finishing cleaning the last speck of dirt from the last corner of the house, a big breeze rolls through. With it, the scent of the Monaco air swells in and sways the curtains along the room. Olivia sighs and grabs her mess of cleaning supplies and tosses it away in the trash, washing her hands after before retreating to the bathroom for a much needed 'everything shower.'

And when she's clean, the house is clean, and dinner had been cooling on the counter, Lando finally comes home an hour later that expected while still on the phone.

"I understand--" He groans when the person on the phone keeps talking as he takes in the cleanliness of their apartment and his heart strains. Oscar had warned him he had to do it before she got to the point of stress cleaning the entire house and it seems he had been too late to notice.

"I gotta go." He says into the phone and hangs up, kicking his shoes off and shoving his phone in his pocket. Once hanging up his jacket, bag, and shoes in the right spots, he slowly makes his way into the small balcony where his girlfriend sits curled up in the sun. She looks like the epitome of peace with a book on her lap and headphones over her ears. Though, the longer Lando admires her from the doorway, the more stress lines he can see.

"Ollie, baby," He croons, making his way over to where she sits. Olivia perks up and smiles, taking one headphone off as she holds out her arms for a hug. Lando does one better and plops down on the couch next to her and lays in her lap, letting her hands naturally fall to combing through his hair.

"Long day?" She asks and he just nods, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach.

"Sorry for being so... bleh." He says softly, the weight of the apology and Oscar's short scolding the other day boring down on him, "I just have been so exhausted from work.."

"It's alright." Olivia says, a bit too quickly for his liking.

"No," Lando pops up, leaning to press a soft kiss to his girlfriends lips, "it's not alright, I've been avoidant and ignorant and it's not right of me. Oscar's told me off twice for it."

"I told him about it because I was scared you were mad at me." Olivia hums softly, closing her book and setting it aside, Lando shakes his head practically crushing Olivia under his weight as he leans on her to press a kiss to her jaw.

"I could never be mad at you..." Lando sighs, "It's just... McLaren were looking at bringing in a new driver as our third to work with Pato and so I've been so been busy trying to get to know her--but shes gonna go with Ferrari anyways so--"

"Dhanishka, right?" Olivia hums, watching Lando's jaw flex as she cuts him off--and then he sharply nods.

"Charles was asking me about her, apparently she used to be dating Logan." Olivia looks down at her book as she marks it and then sets it on the table next to her, "Oscar knows her pretty well, they raced together for a few years."

"Yeah, but, I..." Lando huffs, sitting up now so he can cup his girlfriends head in his hands as he swallows, "I should've told you but there was just... never a good moment. But I should've made a moment, because I love you and it's stupid for me to neglect you and I'm sorry but--"

Olivia leans forwards, connecting her lips with her boyfriends softly. It's like every thought leaves his head, and he blinks at her as she laughs at his empty eyed look.

"I love you too, Lando. I also should've asked if you were okay instead of just ignoring you." She murmurs against his lips before pressing another soft kiss to his skin. Lando blinks and then gets up, dragging Olivia into the kitchen with him. She laughs softly at his spontaneous movements before he hoists her up to sit on the counter.

"Wait here." He pokes her collarbone and then disappears down the hall before Olivia can ask a question. She shrugs, kicking her feet idly as she hears him rooting through his work bag, eventually she hears a soft 'aha!' and Lando nearly slips in his socks as he runs back into the room fumbling with something in his hands.

"Okay, I had like this whole dinner and beach walk and little romantic thing planned!" Lando starts explaining quickly, waving his hands in exclamation, "but, but, but! I--here!"

And he slides a small princess cut diamond ring on Olivia's finger. She blinks at it, then up at Lando's nervous smile, then back down at the ring and the gasp that leaves her is so sharp she starts to cough.

"Lando Norris!" She shouts once she's recovered from her fit, nearly whacking her boyfriend in the side of the head, "are you--what the fuck?!"

"You are not as calm as your brother is."

"I got all his emotions," she deadpans, then stammers, "now explain?!"

He grins, blinking at her, "I was so worried you'd say no, or I'd say it at the wrong time, and I realized-- there's no time to wait for the right time if its just gonna make you stressed. So. Marry me?"

All Olivia can do is stare at Lando. His big eyes are full of childlike wonder, sparkling like the diamond that weighs down her left ring finger. His smile is infectious, once her shock subsides, and she finds herself laughing.

Because nothing with her and Lando was elegant or planned. It had always been messy, mushed together, rushed like this. And that was what felt right for them.

But she's still so shocked she can't form words, so hopefully a kiss to her boyfriends already parted lips will do. And if his hand firmly creeping up her thigh isn't proof, maybe his soft giggle is as the pull back and smile against each others lips.

"I wish you had a middle name so I could shout at you to properly express my emotions right now." Olivia whispers.

"No shouting," Lando murmurs, pulling her closer to him by her knees so rtheir chests are flush as he plants his hands on the counter besides her, "only kissing."

"Fine, fine." Olivia obliges, letting her hands tangle in his curls, feeling the still drying sweat on his hairline under her palms as he dips his head down to place a firm kiss to her collarbones.

"You know I have to Facetime half the population to show them this, right?" Olivia gasps, breathless, then she feels something sharp and whacks his shoulder, "Lando! Teeth?!"

"Just in case the ring didn't make everyone know you're mine." He smiles with his stupid amount of boyish confidence Olivia fell for last season and she huffs at him, but can't stop the smile on her lips.

"I hope Oscar yells at you for it when I call him." She teases and pushes Lando aside so she can go grab her phone and he whines behind her as he trails like a puppy.

"No..! All he's been doing is yelling at me for being a pussy and not asking you!"

But Olivia's mischievous laugh makes him grin double in size before he reaches out to grab her waist, pulling her back to his chest as he purposefully sloppily kisses at her neck to make her squeak, trying to squirm away.

"You can wait to call him, I wanna be with my pretty wife." He complains, "and if he's gonna yell at me, I'll give him something to yell about."

and after another playful nip, Olivia shouts with a loud giggle escaping her chest, "I have work tomorrow, you fucking vampire!"

And all is warm once again in the Piastri-Norris household, just as it should be. Hodge-poged together.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x oc #lando norris fic

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Epilogue)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Awkwardly translated smut ahead. Nsfw, mdni

Roger: Geez… I’ll need to discipline you on not feeling something whenever someone touches you.

Kate: Huh? Kyaa.

Roger turned me away from him and placed a hand on my butt.

Roger: This is your punishment, Kate. No matter what I do, you’re not allowed to take pleasure from it.

(This position…)

Kate: Please don’t, this is humiliating…

Roger: Not gonna listen to some weak protests.

He had a firm grip around my waist and even if I flailed my legs, I wouldn’t be able to break out of his hold.

It was like being locked in a cage.

Roger pulled down my underwear and smacked by exposed butt with the palm of his hand.

Kate: Ahh.

(He’s slapping it gently…)

I’m overcome with embarrassment and my face heats up.

Roger: …Again

*smack* *smack* The more his large hand smacked against my skin, the more embarrassed I became.

(This is so embarrassing. And yet…)

I felt myself growing hot between my legs at this naughty situation.

Roger: Why’re you rubbing your legs together?

Kate: N-no reason…

Roger: Oh of course. There’s no way getting spanked feels good, does it? But if that’s the case, why are these getting harder?

Kate: Ah…

Roger’s nails teased at my exposed nipples.

Roger: Since I’m disciplining you, I won’t be as nice.

Sweet stimulation attacked my body as fingers pinched the sensitive tips.

Kate: Hyaaa…

As Roger played with my nipples with one hand, the other went between my legs.

Roger: Ah~ Look. You’re so wet down here.

I looked away when he showed his fingers coated with my arousal.

Roger: Will you get like this with anyone?

Kate: No! I get like this…because of you, Roger. You’re an egoist who always does stuff like this. Despite that…

Roger: …?

Kate: Despite that, you’re…special…Mmnn…

He grabbed my chin and kissed me roughly over and over again, leaving no chance to breathe.

When our lips parted, Roger brushed my bangs.

Roger: Why are you so cute?

Kate: Huh? Ah…

Roger raised my butt up so that it stuck out and plunged his thick fingers inside my core.

Kate: Ahn…

Roger: It’s not over yet. You’re gonna say something naive like you really like me again, aren’t you?.

Kate: Aahh…ahhh

You could hear the wet sounds as his fingers pumped in and out.

He continued pinching my nipples and the shuddering stimulation took over my body.

Kate: Roger…

Roger: Cum, Kate.

Roger patted my head as my body trembled.

Roger: I’m the only one you can rely on, and the only one who can do stuff like this to you. Don’t wag your tail for anyone else but me, Kate.

--

—The next day, my body was complaining.

Roger: What’s up with that posture?

Kate: I’m sore…

Roger: Hahaha. Well isn’t that just sad? Hmm, what to do, what to do…

Kate: Please don’t touch me!

Even a mere touch would make me want to pass out from pain.

Roger: So, why are you dragging yourself around like that?

Kate: Um, I heard something from WIlliam. About how you’re the one who negotiated for Emilia Winslow to be appointed as a secretary for parliament?

Roger: We’re still a long way from women having the right to vote, but it’s at least a stepping stone.

Kate: Thank you Roger!

Roger: Don’t wag your tail so happily, Kate.

Kate: Huh…By chance…

Roger: Probably.

Kate: You’re going to do stuff to me again!?

Roger: Yeah, it’s great isn’t it? You got another excuse for me to take care of you.

(This man…)

It’s annoying, but I couldn’t help but smile in the end.

I’m sure I’ll continue to wish I was strong.

Even so, with someone supporting me, I’ll probably be stronger than I was yesterday. 

Roger: Ah, that’s right. Meet me at 19:00 tonight at the entrance. 

Kate: For a mission? I thought Harrison and Liam were going out today.

Roger: We’re splitting a special reward. Let’s go for a drink.

Kate: But that’s yours…

Roger: We resolved it together, didn’t we? If you don’t wanna, then I guess I’ll have to ask Jude or Al.

Kate: I’ll go! Ah, because…I want to drink beer.

Roger: Hmm?

Roger poked my side with a smirk.

Kate: O-ow!

Roger: Hahaha. Dummy.

Roger laughed with a carefree expression as he watched me writhe in pain.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger

[putting-it-into-parc]

snickerdoodles, chapter 1: best friend butterflies, and a daunting assignment turns into quite the baking adventure (3.6k words)

warnings: bit of pining, the slowest burn, ✨friend tension✨

chapter 1: tim tams and meringues

The kitchen is chaos. Bowls and spatulas are strewn all over the messy counter, a timer shaped like a cow chirps angrily for your attention, and you’re pretty sure there’s flour on your chin. You open the oven door, grimacing at the heat—once upon a time, you never had to be the one to do that—precariously move a tray of cookies from a sheet pan to a wire rack, and top them off with a dusting of cinnamon and sugar. Another tray beside it boasts row after row of perfectly piped meringues.

Three slight taps on the door, and your heart leaps. Your taste tester has arrived, just in time.

Abandoning the still-hot cookies on the counter, you saunter your way to the door. Not too quickly—too eagerly—but not too slowly, keeping your guest waiting. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You turn the handle.

As soon as you see each other, Oscar’s stoic face breaks out into a cheeky grin. You meet his outstretched arms halfway, bury your face in his soft hoodie.

“Long time, no see,” you murmur into his chest.

“I could say the same for you.” He rests his chin on top of your head. Then he sniffs your hair. “Let me guess,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “Snickerdoodles?”

You break apart, and finally you can take all of Oscar in, his normally cropped hair starting to curl over his ears, the Lando Norris hoodie he has on—supportive teammate, huh—the little mole under his left ear, a constant presence for as long as you can remember.

“That’s cheating,” you say. “I always make snickerdoodles.”

Snickerdoodles are Oscar’s favorite.

Oscar steps into the living room, takes his shoes off without you having to ask. “Hmmm...can’t you give me a hint?”

“Fine.” You get up on your tippy toes and cup his eyes with your hands. “I’ll let you smell them. And no cheating!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, taking your wrists gently and lowering them to your sides. He closes his eyes obediently.

You take the opportunity to run into the kitchen, scoop a small pile of meringues into your hands, and return to the living room. You hold your cupped hands up to Oscar’s nose.

He inhales deeply. Thoughtful twin dimples appear above his eyebrows. “Are you even giving me anything to smell?”

You stifle a giggle, because in fact, you were just the tiniest bit cruel with your hint. As far as cookies go, meringues don’t smell like much at all, given that they’re mostly egg whites and sugar.

“Maybe you need a taste test,” you tease.

Oscar opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, just far enough for it to look comical. You don’t try to fight the laughter anymore as you place a single meringue on his tongue.

“What the?” Oscar says as the cookie starts to dissolve in his mouth. His eyes fly open. “Are these—are these?—these taste like the world’s most boring pavlova.”

“Hey!” you say indignantly. “The meringue is the best part of the pavlova.”

“Hard disagree. Hard. It’s the whipped cream and the fruit that carry it.” The comment earns him an eye roll.

“Well,” you huff, feigning irritation, “then you won’t mind helping me finish it up.”

Oscar’s eyes light up. “You’re not done yet?”

“No, dummy. If I’d put the fruit and the cream on top it'd just melt the cookie underneath. And I wasn’t sure exactly when you were gonna get here.” You turn and head back into the kitchen, Oscar trailing close behind.

Neat rows of small meringues are arranged on one baking sheet, a larger one piped in a sort of flat nest on the other. “I already sliced up the fruit, if you want to get it out of the fridge,” you nudge, and Oscar retrieves the cold metal bowl, draped loosely in plastic wrap. When he thinks you’re not looking, he swipes a snickerdoodle from the wire cooling rack and stuffs it in his mouth whole.

“I saw that,” you say, loading a dollop of freshly whipped cream into a piping bag.

“Saw what?” Oscar asks innocently, mouth full of crumbs.

You drag your pointer finger through what’s left of the whipped cream in the bowl. You turn to him slowly, and in a flash, dot a tiny bit of it on the tip of Oscar’s nose.

Oscar lunges for the bowl, arms his own finger, and drags a streak of fluffy white cream down your cheek.

“Hey!”

He giggles, pointing at your face. “You look like a kid wearing face paint.”

You attempt to retaliate, but then Oscar grabs your wrist. You become acutely aware of a little lurch your stomach does as he looks you directly in the eye. He raises his other hand, slowly wipes the whipped cream off your face with his thumb. He’s still holding your wrist. Your cheeks burn.

“No playing with your food,” he lilts, and then his hands are gone, as quickly as they came.

You roll your eyes, if only to disguise the fact that your face is probably the color of the raspberries in the fruit bowl. “You’ve lost whipped cream privileges.” You pipe a layer down onto the bed of meringue, and step aside for Oscar to crown the whole affair with the fruit.

He furrows his eyebrows in concentration as he carefully arranges the slices of kiwi, spears of strawberry, raspberries, and blueberries one by one within the crevices of the whipped cream.

Watching him, you feel a rush of nostalgia. It’s just like old times.

Almost.

~

You and Oscar met in Year 9, when you were assigned to sit next to each other in Home Ec. You wouldn’t have been caught dead in the Textiles section of the class—needles, even the sewing kind, made your head start to spin—but you reasoned that you did like food. Even though your scatterbrained self probably shouldn’t have been trusted around stoves or ovens either.

Oscar looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. After exchanging a perfunctory hello at the beginning of each class, he seemed to mentally launch himself into outer space. You had no idea a pair of eyes could go that blank.

One day, the teacher tells you to pair up for a group project. The assignment? Make a homemade version of a common processed snack.

You glance over at your seatmate, and for better or worse, he looks just as much at a loss as you feel.

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, clears his throat. “Um,” he says quietly. “Any ideas?”

You just shake your head.

He sighs. “I’ll think about it some when I go home.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “If you give me your number we can text about ideas.”

You oblige, tapping your name and cell phone number into his contacts.

But judging by the radio silence that night, neither of you experience any bursts of creative inspiration.

The next class period, Oscar’s eyelids droop halfway closed and you’re absentmindedly filling in every other square on your gridded paper like a checkerboard, when the teacher’s voice jerks you both awake.

“Ryan,” she admonishes your classmate. “Put those Tim Tams away. No eating during class.”

Almost telepathically, your heads whip around to face each other, and your eyes lock in agreement. Tim Tams it is.

You invite Oscar to your house for your endeavor to replicate the Tim Tams from the comfort of your own kitchen. Your younger brother had grinned evilly at you when you’d warned him to stay out of the way.

“Oooooooh,” he singsonged. “You’re having a boy over?”

“No, shut up,” you snapped. “It’s for a group project. And besides,” you said wryly, conjuring up in your mind Oscar’s skinny legs, unkempt hair, eternally languid expression and distinct lack of willingness to talk during class, “he’s not even cute.”

And really, he wasn’t.

Oscar knocks timidly on the door, and when you open it, you’re greeted by the sight of him cradling an enormous bag of sugar. It must have weighed at least ten kilos.

“Oscar—” you gasp. “Why on earth, do we need that much sugar?”

Clearly, Oscar hadn’t thought too much about portion sizes when you’d asked him to pick up a bag of sugar on his way to your place. Poor kid. These were the people who needed Home Ec, you supposed.

He turns beet red. “Um,” he stumbles.

You will yourself not to laugh at him; you have a feeling that if you did, he might just never speak to you—or anyone else—ever again.

“Never mind,” you say, waving him through the door. “It’s a lot better to have extra than not enough.”

To your relief, some of the tension leaves Oscar’s shoulders, and he lets the heavy sack of sugar drop to the floor next to your counter.

“So...you know how to bake?” Oscar asks, his eyes roaming curiously over the sheet trays and measuring cups lined up on the counter, the large bag of baking chocolate you’d bought for the project, the gleaming white KitchenAid you’d sweet-talked your mom into letting you use.

“No,” you admit. “My mom’s fantastic, though. I dunno what I’m gonna do when I go to uni and I won’t have a constant supply of her banana bread anymore...”

“We should just have her do the project, then.”

Surprised at his brazen comment, you turn to face Oscar, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. Huh. Oscar Piastri has a sense of humor, you think. “I wish,” you chuckle.

You pull up an online recipe for homemade Tim Tams on your laptop. “It doesn’t look too bad. Tim Tams are basically two biscuits with icing between them.”

“Dipped in chocolate,” Oscar finishes.

“Yep, dipped in chocolate. Should be simple,” you say, and Oscar nods in assent.

Alas, it was not simple at all.

The first batch of biscuits comes out looking, well, a lot like charcoal. Your eyes sting with the veritable cloud of smoke that billows out of the oven. You and Oscar fan at it frantically, trying to disperse it before it sets off the fire alarm.

On the second attempt, the biscuits look edible enough, but something goes horribly wrong with the chocolate coating. Instead of a smooth, homogenous mixture of chocolate and oil, great dark lumps settle below a thick layer of clear liquid.

“Shit,” you say, staring at the bowl. Oscar peers over your shoulder.

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Yeah, oh no. What did we do this time?”

Oscar pulls out his phone. “Troubleshooting...polar...emulsion,” he mutters as he taps away on the keyboard.

“Emulsion?” you say. “That’s the nerdiest thing someone could possibly say.”

Silence.

When you look up from the sad bowl of chocolate, Oscar’s face is flushed. “Oh—Oscar,” you say, embarrassed. “You know—I was just joking, right?”

Oscar’s lips disappear, leaving only a thin line where his mouth was. “Yeah,” he says, tightly.

“No, seriously,” you fumble, a little desperately. “I wouldn’t have made fun of you if I didn’t think it was actually cool. I swear.” Your words sound hollow to you, and you feel like a top tier ass.

He just shrugs. “I’m used to it. I’ve always been the nerd.”

“Please. Until about two seconds ago I thought you were the literal opposite.” You pause, then press forward recklessly. What’s there to lose? “Don’t think I haven’t seen you go practically unconscious every day in Home Ec.”

Oscar stares at you mutely, and you’re sure you’ve now permanently fucked up any chance of you getting along for the foreseeable future, but then—Oscar laughs. His face changes entirely when he does—tiny lines appear at the corners of his eyes, as does a dimple by the crease of his right lip. Like the Australian sun peeking out from behind a passing cloud. It makes you think...something. You’re unsure how to put it into words. But it makes you feel buoyant.

You work much more companionably than before from that point on, and finally, emerge with a batch of chocolate-covered biscuits that to be honest, you’re pretty proud of. Dusk has started to fall outside.

“Will you do the honors?” You hold the plate of cookies out to Oscar.

He grins, and again you’re struck by how sunny his face is, and how reluctant he seemed to hand that smile out. He pinches a Tim Tam between his thumb and index finger and brings it up to his mouth in an exaggerated fashion. You watch his face as he chews thoughtfully.

“Honestly,” he says, “not bad.”

“Not bad?” you pout, slightly miffed. “We worked for hours on this! And all you give me is not bad?”

He chuckles at your annoyance. “Well, look at it this way. We worked on it for a day. The makers of this bad boy—” he fingers the plastic packaging of the original fondly—“have been optimizing the recipe for years.”

“Touché.”

“But really,” he says, suddenly serious, “I think we did great. You did great. I would’ve been totally sunk without you.”

You feel a little bashful at his words. “You too. Thanks for...well, doing this with me.” As if he hadn’t been assigned to.

“I had fun,” Oscar replies simply. And you believe him.

In Home Ec the next morning, as your classmates crowd around your homemade Tim Tams, Oscar meets your eyes, and you both smile.

~

You sit on the couch, ensconced in an unnecessarily fluffy blanket with Oscar beside you, but you’re freezing. Anyone But You plays on the TV—Oscar, of course, missed it while it was in theaters.

Every so often when he leans forward to grab another handful of crisps, his sleeve brushes your bare forearm, and you shiver. The air feels so tense, you feel like it could snap like a rubber band at any time. But Oscar seems blissfully unaware of your rigidness the entire movie, chuckling at the comical moments between Bea and Ben, poking you excitedly in the side at the dramatic shot of the Opera House.

“Can I stay over?” he asks when the end credits play, even though his duffel, complete with a change of clothes, sits ready in the hall. Even though he knows as well as you do that there’s only one answer.

You pretend to consider his question, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmmm…”

Oscar rolls his eyes and gives you a playful shove. Tingles spread through your body; you grit your teeth against them.

“Okay, fine,” you pretend to relent. “But I’m making you sleep on the couch. I’ve gotten zero sleep this week, and you snore like a lawnmower.”

“What?!” Oscar yelps.

“Kidding,” you smirk, and Oscar shoves you again, sending you toppling into the cushions.

In the bathroom, you’re fully preoccupied brushing your teeth while you replay over and over the scene from earlier in the afternoon, when Oscar grabbed your wrist as you decorated the pavlova. The way he said,��No playing with your food, in a way you would have sworn was nothing but filthy—if you didn’t know any better.

“Boo,” someone says in your ear.

You almost jump onto the counter.

“Oscar!” you say, the name coming out muffled through a mouthful of toothpaste. You spit into the sink, turn to face him indignantly. “Jesus, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Oscar nonchalantly squeezes toothpaste onto his own toothbrush, and the two of you continue the evening ministrations side by side, the silence having long since become familiar. He watches you wash your face twice, pat all manner of potions and lotions on your skin. He’s one of the few people who’s ever seen you go through your entire skincare routine, and probably the only one who didn’t immediately get bored, or make some kind of snide comment about it being extra.

“I tried the sunscreen you sent me,” he informs you, and the tinge of pride in his voice warms your heart.

“Oh? It’s about time,” you tease. “Skin’s never looked better.”

“Wait, are you being serious?”

You were mostly joking. But how could you say no to those eyes, suddenly filled with genuine hope? “Yep,” you quickly nod.

“Hey, guess what,” Oscar says suddenly.

“What?”

“Last one to the bed sleeps on the floor!” he says as he sprints out of the bathroom.

You fall for this every time.

“HEY!” You race after him, but Oscar’s already dive-bombed into your duvet. “Ahhhhhh,” he says, stretching out all four limbs luxuriously. “I’ve definitely told you this before, but you have great taste in mattresses.”

You just stand at the foot of the bed, arms crossed in mock anger, doing your best to affix a glare onto your face.

“Okay, okay,” Oscar holds his palms up, but makes no move to arise. Then he extends an arm across the other—empty—side of the bed.

It takes you a full thirty seconds to realize what he’s suggesting. Your jaw drops.

“What—we can’t just sleep in the same bed!” you sputter, feeling what has to be misplaced panic rise in your chest.

“Why not?” Oscar asks.

Then his eyes narrow.

“Oh.”

You tilt your head quizzically.

“Is…is there someone who might be upset that you did?” Oscar asks flatly, his voice no longer blithe.

“No!” you blurt out, even more flustered at the misunderstanding. “No. I’m not seeing anyone or anything. It’s just—”

If you weren’t so frazzled by the entire situation, maybe you would’ve noticed the twinkle return to his eyes at the rather emphatic denial. “Just what?”

“Just—I mean, isn’t it a little bit weird?”

Oscar shrugs. “Not like we’re going to do anything.”

The thought of doing things with Oscar—nope, nope, bad. Begone, thoughts.

“Um.” You chew on your lower lip. “So you’re serious?”

“If you’re not gonna be weird about it, yeah. What’s the point of sleeping on the floor when there’s literally room for both of us here?”

The point is, Oscar, that even you brushing up against me makes me feel weird. So how do you think my brain’s gonna take sleeping in the same bed together? And how are you so freaking calm about it?

But now you know that if you say no, it’s as good as admitting that you are, in fact, being weird about it. You shake your head. “Using my words against me, huh? Fine. You’re right, there’s plenty of room for both of us.”

And to prove it to Oscar, but actually mostly to yourself, that you see him as nothing more than your best friend, you climb into the empty half of the bed, silently willing your heart to stop pounding in your chest.

~

The day of the glorious Tim Tam show-and-tell, you come home only to realize that Oscar had left his massive bag of sugar in your kitchen.

“That’s some pretty nice sugar, too,” your mom had observed. “Might want to ask him if he wants that back.”

Too bad you gave him your number instead of the other way around. You figure you’ll tell him in Home Ec tomorrow. Hopefully he’ll be awake.

But your phone buzzes with a text as you’re doing the dishes after dinner.

Unknown  Hey, it’s Oscar I think I left my sugar at your house, lol

You remember him staggering under the weight of the bag, and grin as you add him to your contacts.

Me  Haha yeah you did, I can bring it to Home Ec tomorrow?

Oscar  Well actually Wait are you busy rn?

Me  I’m doing the dishes lol but should be done in 5

Oscar  Okay sounds good

Just as you stick the last of the silverware into the drying rack, your phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Oscar says. He sounds a little hesitant. “Uh yeah, so, basically I let my sisters try the Tim Tams, and they’re obsessed.”

“Really?” you can’t help but squeal.

“Yeah. So uh, if you didn’t hate baking too much, they would like us to make another batch of them.”

You giggle. “Damn, we could start a business.”

Oscar chuckles on the other end, and you picture his shoulders relaxing, just like they did that first day. “I can come get the sugar,” he says. “We don’t have to use your house this time, I feel bad.”

Your mom’s sitting on the couch in the living room, watching TV next to your dad. She raises an eyebrow at you as you stroll out of the kitchen with your phone pressed to your ear.

“Wait just a sec,” you tell Oscar, and cover the mic with a palm. “Mom. Do you mind us using the kitchen to bake?”

“I heard that!” Oscar’s voice sounds faintly through the speakers.

“Not at all,” your mom says. “Honestly, that KitchenAid hasn’t seen enough of the light for a while now.”

“We’ve got her blessing,” you announce to Oscar triumphantly. “That stand mixer is our oyster.”

When Oscar comes over the next week, you do indeed replicate the Tim Tams, but you also decide to make chocolate chip cookies since you’ve already got everything you need for them. You get into a spirited argument over your preferred consistency—you’ll die on the hill of crispy edges, Oscar refusing to budge an inch on his stance that cookies so underbaked they’re practically liquid are superior.

The perfume emanating from the oven is almost intoxicating. Oscar prematurely yanks the sheet tray out of the oven despite your protests, and proceeds to immediately scald the roof of his mouth on the flaming hot cookies.

“Gooey!” he manages to say in delight, despite the tears forming in his eyes.

You laugh until your sides hurt.

Thus began the odyssey that you two eventually dubbed Piastry of the Week.

~

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