#maybe i'll return to normal next week

[nabi-unveiled]

A Few Interesting Breadcrumbs On This Finale Eve

An interesting discussion with @ginnymoonbeam led me to rewatching the flashback scene of Hagiwara and Kaori.

I'll be honest, it's one of the scenes that I don't pay a lot of attention to in my rewatches. I'll have to think about what that says about me.

However, this rewatch led to a few interesting discoveries.

Hagiwara seems to have been in a meeting about the eyelash curler when Kaori/him first met.

This is the product he references when he's talking to Sei at the party. There's not a lot to dig into there, but it's an interesting parallel.

Hagiwara and Kaori BOTH stare at each other when they meet. So they never had the phase of Hagiwara being interested but Kaori not.

She leads/controls this relationship (because he lets her). However, Hagiwara actually DOES initiate physical contact/intimacy with Kaori. She grabs his hand to talk about his nails, but HE is the one that grasps her hand turning it into a handhold.

There's an interesting parallel in the phone call between Kaori/Hagiwara and Hagiwara/Sei. Kaori calls confessing her feelings saying she is restless and wants to see him. Hagiwara says he'll go to her, and they end up having sex.

In the call between Sei/Hagiwara, Hagiwara calls and confesses his feelings (different feelings but still feelings). Like Kaori said about herself in the flashback, he's restless. He doesn't say that he wants to see Sei like Kaori did. (It's actually Sei who in a later scene said he wanted to see Hagiwara.) But Sei says very similar words to what Hagiwara said in the flashback, and they end up having sex.

The difference is that Hagiwara doesn't let Sei come to him. They meet in the middle. They BOTH want to go the other. There's not a one way flow of energy here.

I don't know if I've said it in a post before, but Hagiwara is a mirror.

He's great at reading people, and he's good at matching what people want/expect. It's what makes him so good at his job. It's a great trait for a salesman. Hagiwara tries to keep everyone comfortable. If they joke, he jokes. If they're serious, he's serious. Kaori gives shallow conversation, so he has shallow conversations with her. Sei is more straightforward and personal in conversation which allows him to be more straightforward and personal. He can explore the depths of Tokyo with Sei. He couldn't do that with Kaori.

In e-mail, Hagiwara allowed himself more freedom. But in person? He will suppress his thoughts and deprioritize himself to give the other person what makes them happy and comfortable. It's why him giving Sei sweet coffee and refusing to let Sei out of the room is a BIG deal. (For those watching Perfect 10 Liners, there's some interesting parallels to Faifa here. It's not the EXACT same dynamic, but there are similarities.)

Which leads us to our last fun discovery (and really what started this whole flashback rewatch).

I was overexplaining a head canon I have about why Hagiwara kept asking Sei (in e-mail and in-person) if he had always been attracted to men. Indulging my need to talk about this show, @ginnymoonbeam posed an excellent question about why Hagiwara had become so avoidant with Kaori.

After all, he may not have realized he was attracted to Sei, but he was already initiating with Sei. He WAS attracted to Kaori too. Wouldn't he have shown similar behaviors then? Well, we know they never had the one sided attraction phase. That's part of it. Gender could be a part of it. (I don't think that's it, but going into those reasons would make this post way too long.)

However, Kaori has been subtly rejecting Hagiwara physically all along. When he turns the hand grab into a handhold, she hesitates. And then there's this...

Hagiwara initiates a back hug.

Kaori doesn't REJECT it, but she doesn't ACCEPT it either. And this is when they're "madly in love" and in the honeymoon stage.

As Hagiwara says, she's always indirect. BUT Hagiwara is a mirror, it would only take a few soft rejections like this before he begins toning it down. It says something that he was still trying to initiate sex at all.

Contrast that to Sei who always encourages Hagiwara to open up more and who think its strange that Hagiwara is polite with him. Hagiwara apologizes to Sei any time he thinks he may have been too open, crossed a line, or made Sei uncomfortable. It's a lot.

Hagiwara isn't USED to being this open/direct with people. He's a super genuine and thoughtful person, but he is USED to masking. (Makeup in public analogy - I see you.).

Sei always affirms him though and tells him it's okay to be open. He doesn't accept the apologies. Sei encourages him to let his own thoughts take priority over the mask.

Because of this, Hagiwara learns to directly express what he wants with Sei. This happens at least five times with Sei. "There's so much I wanna talk to you about", "I just want an answer", "I want to have sex with you", "I don't want you to go", and "I want you".

Hagiwara mirrors that accepting energy back to Sei as well. He tells Sei it's ok to be him.

He doesn't judge him for being rude, not having LINE or not liking transportation. He accepts him, rough edges and all. In fact, he doesn't even see it AS rough edges.

Just like they met in the middle, they both allow each other to be comfortable in their own skin. They allow each other to have a personal identity. As @respectthepetty has said in several posts at this point, they BALANCE each other.

Which is why I need them TOGETHER AND HAPPY!

Please, please, pretty please. I don't even care if I don't get the things on my symbols & parallels wish list. Just let them be happy.

[hyakunana]

"I will do it my own way. The power to crush Kamen Riders will be mine."

[meiru-sama]

Yandere!loser x fem!reader

This story contains: Masochistic yandere, submissive yandere, mean/bully reader, masturbation, bullying, psychological abuse, toxic relationship, sexual themes, NSFW

He always noticed how you would always look at him--- though it wasn't filled with admiration and love. It was filled with disgust and judgement. You would lean on your locker, surrounded by your friends while you all stare at him as he pass. His breath hitched, his palms sweaty while you laughed at him.

Any normal person would consider this as an act of psychological abuse but to him it was psychological pleasure. He loves it, everything about you.

The way your lips would lift into a grin everytime you would make fun of him.

The way you would wrap your fingers around his messy hair, pulling it everytime you sit behind him.

The way you would look down at him everytime you would 'accidently' spill  water all over his work.

The way you would constantly push him out of your way while you glare at him.

The way you would force him to kneel infront of you behind the school with your friends. Slapping him, hitting him and sometimes giving him a 'sorry' peck on the cheeks.

It was making him go crazy, he could feel his pants tightening everytime you speak to him with your low and taunting voice.

He loves having your attention, he loves kneeling infront of you, he loves being humiliated by you.

Though he would hide it behind a facade, he would beg for you to stop, he would fight back and act like he doesn't like it. But all he wants is for you to push him on the ground. Break him until he can't take it anymore.

One day, you invited him to a party in your house. Words cannot express how glad he was, he can't stop thinking about the thought of you wearing a tight dress.

"Wear something nice, kay?"

"If i don't see you tonight, i'll go rough with you for the following weeks."

He almost screamed, he was contemplating if he should go or not. He wanted you rough but he also wanted to see you in your party dress in a freaky setting.

He sighed, as he stared up at your house. It was huge and he could hearoud music inside.

Upon entering the door, he was almost blinded by the colorful lights. He was nervous but luckily you greeted him the moment he entered. He was right, you were wearing a tight dress.

You led him to an empty room, far from the heated crowd and oh-- he loved how it  reeked of your expensive perfume.

You forced him to sit in your bed before rummaging through your drawer to grab a three page of crippled paper.

You told him that you had some plans next week so you wouldn't be able to do your essay project. You sat on the ground, laying your head on his lap. Looking up at him, playfully.

He have always thought about how smart you were---effortlessly always top of the class, reciting without struggles, high scores. It shocked him that you were asking him for help, someone who is second to you.

He nodded, painfully and you noticed it. You smiled when you thought of an idea.

"Maybe you should have something in return."

You stood up, towering over him who looked at you, eyes wide in shock.

"Tell me, what do you want? I'll give it to you."

He couldn't belive what he was hearing. YOU giving him the chance to choose? Wow. He paused for a minute before he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Kiss me." Those words slipped out of his mouth like a crime, though it felt good. It held commitment and desire.

You frowned before chuckling. You pushed him in the bed, sliding a knee between his thighs. You could feel his boner.

"You're a freaky one, aren't ya?"

You muttered before kissing him, your hand roaming around his belt thought you had no intention to remove it. You liked teasing him.

The whole makeout session lasted for a good 30 minutes. He was practically moaning between the kiss, panting and grinding on your knee.

"You'll get more when you give me a good essay."

You said before standing up, you then gave him one last smile before leaving him on the bed--- hard and needy.

When you finally left, he quickly stood up and went to the bathroom where he finished your job. He wished it was your hand stroking it right now. He imagined you kneeling infront of him, sucking his soul out like a good girl you are.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

text message. l Joel Miller

a/n : a while ago i got a message from anon asking me to write something for joel. i managed to do it today. sorry you had to wait so long. i hope you like it.

warnings : pre-outbreak Joel, some angst, misunderstanding, age difference (about 10 years), suspected pregnancy, argument, Sarah and Tommy mentioned, lots of uncertainty and fear

[Joel Miller masterlist] [my masterlist]

He shouldn't have done that. It was crossing all boundaries, violating your privacy and trust, but he couldn't help himself. When your phone made a series of strange noises that indicated a message had been received and you were in the bathroom at a gas station, Joel reached for it and looked at the screen. A cold chill ran down his spine a second later.

"Two weeks late? Did you take a test? You should see a doctor. What did Joel say?"

A heavy stone landed squarely in his stomach, and he felt his head spin. “Fuck!” he groaned almost silently, shaking his hand as he placed the phone back where you’d left it.

He immediately guessed what you and your friend could have been talking about, he had no doubts. If you were pregnant, that complicated everything.

Joel Miller wasn't entirely sure if he should do it, but when he met you on one of his bar crawls with his younger brother Tommy, he felt like fate had finally favored him. He was almost thirty-six, had a teenage daughter, worked hard, and couldn't remember the last time he'd met a woman. You, on the other hand, were simply beautiful, talkative, with a charming smile on your lips. You were also almost ten years younger than him.

It didn't bother him as much on your first date, or your second, or when you kissed on the couch, or after the first time you had sex. Joel felt younger and happier with you, and everyone around him noticed the change in him.

He fell in love like a stupid teenager, and you didn't make it any easier for him. It was only after a few months that he started to wonder. Maybe dating you wasn't so wise? Maybe you were really too young for him?

When you would visit him at work, bringing him lunch or something, guys would often make fun of him. Joel wasn't as immune to this as he thought. His insecurities grew, and worries about whether he was doing the right thing also grew in his mind too.

And now this. Pregnancy. When Sarah was born, he was too young, and now he felt too old to be playing in diapers. What if you, too, disappeared, like Sarah's mother? Would he be able to cope? What if no woman saw the possibility of a permanent relationship with him, and when the baby came, she simply ran away?

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

He didn't even notice that you had returned and were already sitting next to him. He nodded uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Tommy called, something at the construction site." he lied, quickly starting the engine.

"Do you want to go there?"

"What? No, I don't have to." Joel replied, "Sarah has a game today."

He didn't say anything else the entire ride home, and then to the game you went to with them. He seemed strangely distant, but you were certain he was constantly thinking about work. Even when you suggested ice cream afterward, Joel showed almost no interest.

You dropped Sarah off at a friend's for a sleepover and you were sure that you and Joel would go to his place, but when he suddenly said, "I'll drop you home." You already knew something was wrong.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled the truck up in front of your apartment. Once again, you spent the entire ride in silence, which wasn’t normal.

He shook his head. "No, everything's fine."

“Joel? Look at me, please.” He did it reluctantly, but eventually your eyes met. “You’ve been out of sorts all day. What’s wrong?”

"I've had a lot on my mind lately and..."

"Please, don't lie to me." You interrupted him. You weren't mad, he saw concern on your face. "Did something happen?"

“I…” he began, but the words were hard to get out of his throat. He felt your warm hand on his forearm and it broke him. “Are you pregnant?”

"W-What?" you blurted out, completely surprised.

"I saw, quite by accident, a message from your friend. You're two weeks late. Something about a test and a doctor. I need to know."

You looked at him with slightly parted lips, a small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows. You couldn't gather your thoughts in your head, but Joel clearly couldn't stop himself from talking.

“I think about it all the time. You’re still young, you have plans,” he said, and you felt every word hit you harder. “I know we should be more careful. This whole thing between us is still new and uncertain. You’re so young, I shouldn’t have… Fuck. I fucked it up.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Miller?" you gasped, completely stunned by his words "What do you mean - too young? I..."

"Look at us. I have a teenage daughter, and you're at the beginning of your career. You can leave this town anytime you want, because there's nothing keeping you here. But what if you're pregnant? That complicates things like hell and..."

"Stop it!" you raised your hand in warning "You're talking nonsense! I knew how old you were from the beginning, I knew about Sarah and it didn't bother me."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Now you say that."

“Oh! And you’re a know-it-all!” you snorted angrily. “So I think it’s safe to say you took advantage of a young and fresh pussy.”

Joel gave you a stern look, but you didn't even blink. You were ready to fight him if he wanted to. You were aware of his fears and insecurities, but you thought that by this point you had already shown him how much you cared about him. Age was just a number to you, and ten years didn't make much difference when you weren't a teenager anymore.

"I never thought of you that way." he replied, clenching his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"I feel different now." you replied, shrugging. "Because you're acting like you're just looking for an excuse to break up with me. Because you read some message on my phone? Please! That's pathetic!"

“Pathetic?!” Joel raised his voice. How could you be so indifferent to how your life might change? No one in their right mind would decide to have a child so soon. But of course, you were still young, the romantic vision of a family still lingered in your mind, and you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

Joel wanted to say something else, but you suddenly grabbed your things and got out of the car slamming the door. He quickly got out after you.

"Did you take the test? When are you seeing the doctor?" he asked, catching you before the door.

"Leave me alone." you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

You looked at him in a way Joel had never experienced before. Your warm gaze turned hard and angry, your mouth a thin line, and your entire body took on a defensive stance. You had never argued like this before.

"Fine." you finally said. "I'll tell you. I have an appointment on Monday. Are you happy?"

"I'll go with you."

“Don’t be ridiculous, this doesn’t concern you at all,” you laughed nervously. “And it definitely doesn’t concern you now.”

Joel looked at you in surprise. So he's already screwed everything up? He's already erased those few really good months?

“I’m not pregnant,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “My last checkup showed I had ovarian cysts. They caused my periods to be irregular, and now my period is a few weeks late. The doctor said I should see him if that happens.”

"Cysts?" Joel repeated.

"Yes! I didn't tell you anything because I didn't see the need." you replied "I'm not pregnant, Joel. And you... You, fucked up."

You turned around and disappeared through the door before he had a chance to say anything.

Joel had all night to think about what had happened. All night without sleep, when he kept seeing your angry face in his mind, when he kept repeating your words and feeling worse by the moment. He picked up the phone several times to call you, but he kept giving up, terrified you wouldn't pick up.

What would he have done if you hadn't picked up? Would that have meant the end for both of you? He couldn't believe that his own fears and insecurities had led him to attack you so suddenly. He could have done it differently, he could have waited for you to say something. Instead, he had cornered you and forced you to admit to something that was clearly your own personal issue, one that you wanted to resolve on your own.

He knew nothing about women's health issues. When Sarah got her first period, he managed with the help of a nice store employee, and then his daughter took over. For Joel, a missed period meant pregnancy, and that meant panic and everything he had experienced before.

No, he didn't want to make excuses for his behavior. He had screwed up. He felt like you were disappointed in him and he had no idea what to do about it.

It was still early when he showed up at your place. You opened the door, sleepy, with ruffled hair, in one of those oversized t-shirts you slept in.

"Joel?" you mumbled hoarsely, rubbing your face, "Did something happen? Something with Sarah?"

He shook his head. "No. I had to see you. I had to... Fuck." He scratched the back of his neck, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Can we talk? I, I need to know that I didn't completely fuck this up."

You looked at him for a moment in silence, as if you were considering his words in your head. It was a really long few seconds, but you finally pulled away, allowing Joel to step inside. The apartment was bathed in morning sunlight, and Joel's eyes immediately went to the few framed photos of him and Sarah that you had at your place. Another needle stabbed him in the heart.

"So?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."

"I don't know where to start." he mumbled completely sincerely.

"I suggest you start from the beginning."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm a fucking idiot."

You tilted your head. "Good start."

Joel took a deep breath. He wanted to do it right, he wanted to take advantage of the chance he was given. Maybe it was the last one he had.

"I know now that I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I still can't believe you chose me. I kept thinking we weren't right for each other, that we were too different."

“Are you still thinking about age?”

He nodded. "Yeah. See, you're young, and I..."

You rolled your eyes and cursed loudly. “If you’re going to give me this age difference bullshit, maybe just leave. Jesus! That’s not twenty or fifty. Joel, I’m an adult, I work, I pay taxes. I get to decide who I’m with?”

“You think so now.”

“I thought so from the beginning! When I met you, the first thing I thought was that you have gorgeous eyes and really broad shoulders. I felt good with you, I liked you, and I think you’re really sexy. It has nothing to do with your age.” You took a deep breath and put your hands on your hips, like you were trying to explain something really obvious. “Sarah is amazing, I love spending time with her. I love you, even though sometimes you drive me crazy, and yesterday you really pissed me off. I didn’t tell you about the doctor because there was nothing to talk about. But if you had any suspicions, you should have come to me instead of getting even more upset. I felt like you were just looking for a reason to break up with me.”

“It’s not like that.” Joel took a step toward you. “When Sarah’s mother left us, I was left to fend for myself. Yes, there was Tommy and my mother to help us, but single parenting is no easy feat. I was certain you would disappear, too. Not only would you leave me with a child, but you would simply conclude that I was somehow flawed, that I wasn’t cut out to be with you. I guess I preferred sabotaging us rather than simply facing my fears.”

You looked at him, trying to understand his words. His face, eyes, and body language told you he wasn't lying. Joel was full of uncertainty and doubt, but you thought you were past that stage. You told him many times that you loved him, you didn't belittle his needs, and you always helped him with Sarah or around the house. And yet he felt all of this?

“I’m trying to understand you, Joel, I really am.” You finally said, sighing softly. “But I can’t be the only one in this relationship fighting for us. I feel like no matter what I say or do, you’ll find a reason why we can’t be together. Do you even love me?”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, moving closer and taking your face in his hands. “You have no idea how much I love you. And that scares me. I’m always afraid you’ll find all my flaws.”

"You have a lot of them. I do too. But does it matter when we're happy together?"

No, it didn't matter. The fear of losing you showed Joel what really mattered to him. He cared about you more than he could admit. He saw how perfectly you fit into his family, always trying to help everyone and make everyone happy. He didn't think he'd ever feel the same way about anyone again. 

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what I could do to fix this." He whispered, you felt tears welling up in your eyes at how much he was going through. "But I don't want to end what we have. I love you, I'm sure of that."

"You think so now." You replied, parroting his words.

He smiled slightly. “I’ve known this for a long time, and I think the knowledge scared me. The fear that you’d disappear and I’d be left alone with this feeling. I don’t want you to disappear. I want to stay, permanently.”

"I want to stay too, Joel. Don't push me away ever again."

"Never again, baby."

He kissed you, softly and tenderly, as if he was afraid he still might. But when you kissed him back, Joel felt an unimaginable sense of relief. He had you in his arms again, all the dark thoughts swirling in his head dissipated and he felt happiness fill him. Your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you, letting him kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

You could get through this, together. By being more honest, by giving each other a chance at happiness and love, by supporting each other. Joel knew he would do anything to deserve you, and you couldn't imagine not giving him another chance.

“I’ll go to the doctor with you on Monday if you want,” he said as you poured him a fresh cup of coffee and sat down next to him at the table.

“If you want. I could use some support,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and smiled. He would give you anything, and you never asked for much. You just wanted him to love you, and Joel wanted that too.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[spikesbunny]

what about fem!reader face sitting w law 👀👀

☆ MIDNIGHT SNACK

+ warnings: porn with plot, husband law, male mⱥsturbⱥtion, cunnɨlɨngus, face sitting

+ ft: trafalgar law

+ wc: 1.7k

+ an: nonnie when i tell you this painted a heavy visual in my mind!!! grrr i just know law loves pussy and eats it like a starved mannnnn.

minors DNI!

the heart pirates had finally settled down for the night. the bustling and noise from the crew - mainly penguin and shachi - had finally quieted down.

the only two awake were you and law. your husband was hunched over his desk, ignoring his health (as usual) and focusing on the stacks of paper he had collected over the past week.

"law... come to bed. 's late." you call out, lounging out in the sheets. you settle your book down on the night stand, watching your husband make eye contact with you.

"let me finish this... then i'll be there." a lie. but whatever, you'd drag him to bed if you really had to... which you usually did. you sigh, picking up your book and return to reading, a futile attempt to distract yourself from your husband's stubbornness.

your fingers brush through the pages, before looking up again, a discreet method of checking up on him without him really knowing. he looked stressed. poor man you think to yourself, standing up and walking over to his desk.

as you stand behind him, he looks up at you. "need somethin?"

"yes. you. in the bed."

law grumbles. dick.

"come on, honey, you're gonna overwork yourself. your crew needs a captain, not deadweight." you exclaim, massaging his shoulders. "also, it's kinda lonely in the bed without you... if not for your crew, do it for me?"

you knew your pleading with him would work. he couldn't deny his wife. "fine."

you exhale in relief, patting his shoulder. "see, not so hard." you smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, earning another grumble from him.

you make your way back to your shared bed, collapsing into the sheets with a sigh. you look over, watching law shut his books and turn off the lamp, before trudging to the bed. "don't look so disappointed."

"i'm getting that done tomorrow, no more of your whining." he huffs, removing his shirt and tossing it somewhere in the room. the muscles on his back shift as he stretches, heat coiling within you at the sight.

you'd been married to the man, yet your body reacted like it was the first time all over again anytime you saw him remotely exposed.

law finally crawls into the bed next to you, his drowsy eyes meeting yours. "better?"

"much" you smile, planting a chaste kiss to his lips. "now, sleep up."

he groans, pulling your body close to him. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, his big hands rubbing at your hips. he settles his face into your neck, whispering 'night' and placing a kiss along your pulse point.

damn him.

you lay there, letting him embrace you as he tries to sleep. you always tried to make it seem like you fell asleep before him, but in reality, you waited. waited until you could here his breath slowing down, ensuring he was knocked out and wouldn't try to sneak away to do work.

it normally didn't take so long, his body always exhausted after all he tries to do in a day. tonight wasn't the same. minutes passed, then a hour, and his breathing was the same.

you turn your head to look at him. "law? everythin good?" you ask, meeting your husband's eyes with concern.

"shit, did i wake ya?" he murmurs, thumb coming up to brush your cheek.

"no, just wonderin why ya aren't asleep yet."

"mhm" he groans into your neck, his hands moving down to grip your hips. "don't know... i'm not tired... good enough?" he grunts out, kissing your neck, lips moving down towards your covered shoulders.

"need somethin?" you ask, watching him move the t-shirt you were wearing - one of his spares - to the side a bit, exposing your shoulder more to him.

"yea... wanna try somethin new. maybe it'll help me sleep."

law never made the request to experiment in bed, that was always you. it was a nice surprise though. "uhm sure. whatcha thinking?"

"want you to sit on my face." damn, he was blunt.

you look over your shoulder, watching your husband kiss down your back, his thumbs brushing against your pelvic bone.

"are you sure? that isn't gonna, like, hurt you?"

law deadpans, meeting your eyes. "if you think you sitting on my face is gonna hurt me, you must not have faith in me. i have survived wounds and a life threatening illness. i really don't think this is that much of a challenge."

you blush, he had a point. your husband was stronger than that. it wasn't like you'd crush him.

"so, that a yes?" he ask, sucking a dark spot into your neck. law knew how to give you hickies that would last days, marks sucked into your skin so his crew - and anyone else who saw you when they docked - knew who you belonged to. it was all thanks to his doctor expertise, after all. he could make you tick faster than a bomb.

you nod, watching your husband law on his back, his hands grabbing at your hips, bringing you to settle down on his chest. his fingers trace shapes into your thighs, massaging at the skin as he coos praise at you.

"see? you look perfect from down here. told ya, there's nothing to worry about."

law's hands continuing trailing your body, dragging you closer to his neck now. he beckons you to lift your hips up, removing the shorts and undergarment you adorned. "shit, she's pretty" he whispers, his thumb going to trace soft shapes onto your clit.

you shudder, softly sighing as his thumb continues grazing. "ya know, you got the anatomy f' a piercin down here..." he smirks. "but that's up for you to decide, and that's off topic. where was i?" law smiles at you, before dragging you over to his face, his nose bumping your clit.

you hover, not wanting to put too much pressure on him. he whacks your ass gently in response. "i said sit, not that hoverin shit. you won't hurt me, and if you did, i don't think i could care." he murmurs, breathing in the scent of you.

"fuck, sweetheart, just me talking about this got you riled up?" he teases, using his fingers tattooed with E and A to spread your folds open for him. his free hand spread out across your thigh, grounding you as he drags his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste.

law falls silent as he licks away at you, only noise coming from him being soft pants and groans as he suckles away on your clit.

it was different, than when he usually ate you out. his eyes were closed in bliss, his hands on your thighs spreading you out on top of him, holding you close to his mouth. he seemed relaxed, at peace.

one of his hands moves from your thigh, pressing you even closer using the small of your back. he leans up, lips fully pressed against you as he dips his tongue in, using his nose to stimulate your clit.

you whine his name, hips bucking against his face, searching for your approaching orgasm. law took the sign - he knew your body well enough - moving his lips to suck at your clit as he plunges a finger in.

he mumbles something about you being good for him, his eyes hazed over as he looks up from between your thighs. your heart stutters, the sight almost ethereal. the trafalgar law, surgeon of death, part of the worst generation, a blissed out mess under his wife's thighs. it was a sight to behold.

law twist his finger, massaging your g-spot as he traces his name onto your clit, earning a mewl from you as you cum, soaking his face.

he continues licking, happily swallowing everything you had to give, even trying to press his face closer. the texture of his beard added to the sensation, providing stimulation to your thighs as he brings you down again onto his lips, not a second wasted.

he was starving. you had awakened some beast in him, something that wouldn't stop. he craved you.

his tongue and fingers worked in tandem once again, attempting to bring you to yet another orgasm. he needed it, needed you to fall apart on top of him. you looked so pretty every time, he wanted this image of you burned in the back of his brain.

"law" you whimper, the man practically making out with your cunt. his once calculated ministrations turned sloppy, fueled by the lust circling his mind.

he groans, a free hand reaching down to palm at himself through his pants, getting off to your whines and the feeling of you.

"mm, baby, s' f' me." he slurs out, his unoccupied hand grinding you down onto his tongue, your legs having gave out after your first orgasm was ripped from you.

he moves his lips away from your pussy for a minute, sucking a dark hickey into the plush of your thigh, his fingers moving to curl up in you.

"fuck, we're doin this more often." he pants out, diving back in between your slick folds, a moan falling from his lips as he squeezes himself through his pants. he was a mess, but it was sexy. your husband, all pussy drunk, meerly from just having you sit on his face?

you'd trade anything in the world for this moment.

you legs shake as another climax approaches, a soft "law-" coming from your lips as he makes you cum on his tongue once again, drinking up every last drop. he lets you ride it out on his fingers, before settling back, head slumping against the pillows.

you don't make an effort to move, just looking down at your husband as he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking off the remaining essence. your cum drenched his jaw and beard, his eyes hazy as they meet yours.

"you good?" he coos out, scooting you down to sit on his lap and he leans up, kissing you.

"mhm" you mumble into the kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips as he lazily melts his lips to yours.

"good. next time, we're going longer."

"huh?"

law smirks, before pulling you down to cuddle him him. "goodnight, doll."

at least he fell asleep this time.

©2025 spikesbunny- please do not repost/translate my works on other media sites ♡

[tokoyamisstuff]

Delicate

Sinister! Mark x GN!Regenerator! Reader

A/N: After -> this <- post by @kikiiguess, thanks for matching my freak on a catastrophic level!

⚠️Contains Comic Spoilers⚠️

18+ disturbing content

Synopsis: After escaping from the wasteland dimension, Mark has developed a concerning appetite... Warnings: angst, blood, injury, hurt/comfort, masochism, literal cannibalism, this is oddly sexual charged

It was way past midnight when you woke up finding the bedplace next to yours empty once again, starting to wander the barely illuminated hallways in search for your lover.

A few days prior he had finally returned to your dimension after weeks of absence - yet what exactly happened or how he was even able to find his way back remained a mystery.

All you were sure of is that he had returned a shell of his former self, completely driven by inferior instincts.

From what you could understand of the scraps of information he provided in between demented nonsense, Mark and several of his alters got stranded in a dead universe, with no access to food or water...

...so naturally, as time passed and their hopes of rescue were dwindling, their last option was to start eliminating each other in their desparation for survival.

Truth be told, you were almost 100% sure it was your Mark that made them all turn on each other in the first place.

You've had it all with this man, so you were confident to say it was definelty in his range of possibilities - though this was a new low, even for him.

Damn it, how many times did you tell him to not trust Angstom of all people?! He had been a pain in the ass in your dimension, and now you found out the hard way that goes for this one as well.

But sadly your boyfriend was a fatal combination of both greedy and bored - so being able to expand his empire across the multiverse seemed like just the kind of diversion he needed.

Maybe you if you had been more assertive, then none of this would've happened...

Not much later you finally run into him, hunched over the corpse of your comrade and holding a severed limb as his teeth scraped off the flesh. Witnessing carnage of this extent wasn't really new for either of you, but the context made it just so much more gruesome.

Ever since he came back he's nothing short of instable, however not in the way you were used to. It had always been subtle, well hidden behind a charming facade and skilled manipulation tactics.

There had been method to his madness up until now, but the isolation and sheer hopelessnes of his situation made the last remnant of his sanity slip away like sand between his fingers.

At times his mind conjures voices and other hallucinations, making him even more paranoid than usually. And more often than not he thinks that he's still trapped in that very same wasteland dimension. Well, back then his only solace was imagining himself back home by your side, and now it had become impossible for him to differentiate...

...not to mention, he seems to be plaqued by an aching hunger that can never be quenched.

The doctors claimed it was psychosomatic, caused by the trauma, and that he will most likely adjust to normal food again...

...and yet he hasn't gotten any better, no matter what you tried.

"Want some?" Mark's voice cut through the silence like shards of glass, and you shot him a both disappointed and sympathetic look before shaking your head. "Thanks, I'll pass..."

"I was just so hungry, you know?" You hear a bone creaking as he munches on it, and you feel like throwing up. "Always hungry...it never goes away..."

As much as it pained you to see him this way, in the end you prefer to have him like this than not at all.

Finding him here was no coincidence, surely. He always deliberately fled from your side, whenever this vile urge became too overwhelming. Harming you - the one and only person he evidently cared for - was out of the question.

The old Mark was still hidden somewhere in this delirious menace, you were sure of it...

...you just needed to find a way to lure him out.

"Come" you whisper softly, understandingly, yet also cautious - like you were trying to appease an unpredictable beast that could lash out without warning shall you make one wrong movement. "Let's go to bed."

For a split second a panicked aggression flared up in his eyes, although he didn't act upon the impulse he developed to ensure his survival. He mustered your outstreched hand suspiciously, as if not quite knowing what to do with it, but after a while of whatever his disturbed mind was contemplating, he accepted your offer.

You mutely led him the way back to your shared chambers, with him leaving a trail of blood from the carnage left behind. That's a problem for tomorrow you - or preferably someone else - to clean up.

Right now all that counts is being there for the man that would- no, has conquered entire civilizations in your name.

You owe this to him!

There was no use trying to reason with him about getting cleaned up, so you gently guided him onto the mattress and climbed in right after. Blood from his clothes, hair and skin was soaked into the sheets, drying into a deep shade of crimson. He was entirely covered in it, mixed with his own saliva as it dripped down his chin.

You cradled his face into your hands, pecking a kiss on the bridge of his nose before smearing the proof of his earlier slaughter into nothing but a fading red.

"I didn't plan to be last, I swear..." your boyfriend uttered as he wrapped his arms around your middle, his scruffy beard tickling the crook of your neck. "It just continued not to be me. Maybe I don't look tasty? I don't want to not look tasty..."

You let out a shuddered breath, continuing to let your fingers comb through his messy hair but getting tangled in the dried blood. "I'm just glad to have you back."

Mark had always cursed himself for being so pathetically attached to you. He never intended to fall in love, downright refused this foreign feeling long before he even understood them.

After having spent his whole life in solitude, indifferent to anything 'normal' people seemed to value, he convinced himself that it was actually a sign of superiority.

...and then he met you.

A plaything, a pastime at first.

Back then the GDA had messed with the pain center of your brain, so you'd be more effective in battle. After all, regeneration isn't helpful if you feel every single hit, especially after getting severely injured.

However those experiments came at a price - it caused the side-effect of mistaking pain for pleasure instead.

That's what makes the two of you such a great match: You can basically never break under the weight of what it means to be a sadistic sociopath's spouse. With you he can go all out, implement his dominating power without any consequences.

Who would've thought that the first battle he would ever lose was the one with his own heart?

In a certain way, that other dimension was better. Easier. Absent of any irrational social rules or confusing emotions he couldn't get behind. It was survival of the fittest - a concept he as one of the strongest beings in the universe was very fond of.

Back there, his lack of empathy wasn't consiered monstrous there - it was an advantage. Finally a reassurance that he wasn't broken or wrong.

He was the one that made it out alive, after all.

"How-" Mark's voice is raspy, wild eyes boring into your skull as his fingers tentatively wrapped around your neck. "How do I know this is real? Have you ever been real?!"

You were oddly calm despite being at a madman's mercy, but frankly you were used to it. He increases the pressure on your windpipe just enough to be uncomfortable, but you can feel the barely contained violence behind his grip.

Why didn't you think of this earlier? The solution is so obvious!

"...take from me and find out."

"...no." Mark's voice is firm in a brief moment of clarity. "No" he repeats, "I can't-"

"Why not?" You ask, tone almost offended that he'd reject your generous offer. If he wasn't currently slightly out of mind himself, he would've definetly called you out on this ridiculous behavior.

But his answer stands. There's lines even he does not cross, at least when it came to you. Hypocrite.

"Your folk has less than 50 pure-blooded Viltrumites left, and you just eviscerated one of them...but me? I can take it, I swear."

Your boyfriend had always shared the Viltrumite mindset that humans - except for certain individuals like you were one - are inferior creatures, not much different from cattle or vermin even. Many times he had hunted them for the sheer fun of it...

...but now he didn't even stop at his own people. If he continues, the Viltrumites will eventually turn against him no matter his royal heritage.

Things can't go on like this.

Maybe it's time for more drastic measurements.

"Stop being stubborn" you coo, invitingly batting your lashes but he shuts you up with a glare.

"No, you stop!" He rubs his face frantically, attempting to become at least somewhat clear-headed again. "Even your regeneration has limits. What if I-"

"You won't." Without hesitation, you dig your nails into your forearm, deeply enough to break the skin.

The sheer sight of it leaves him utterly conflicted, exasperated as he's sure once he gives in, he might not be able to stop himself. You see it in the way his hands tremble, barely hovering over your body, and his jaw clenching so hard that you hear his teeth crack.

You dare to cup his cheek, pouring all of your affection into the smile you gift him alongsdes with the essence of your very self. "I love you, Mark. And...I trust you with my life."

"Shit...why are you doing this to me...?" Mark carefully takes ahold of your wrist and brings it to his mouth, lips slightly parted as the intoxicating scent of your blood drings to his nostrils.

It's not the first time, and by far not the last.

Initially he's only licking across the wound, incredibly mellow as if he only wanted to clean it...

...but when the liquid finally graces his dry throat, he lets out a low growl and immediately straddles your waist, pouncing on you like a starved animal. He rips apart your sleeping shirt and lets his canines sink deeply into your exposed shoulder, tearing off the first layer of tissue.

You fail to suppress almost inaudible moans escaping your throat, having the love of your life causing you such delightful pain being almost too much to handle. And when his keen senses make him aware of your reaction, it only spurs him to go further.

"Ohhh..." he almost groans in pure ecstasy, ferociously covering your body in bites and craters of missing flesh. "You like that, huh? Nasty thing."

Mark's hands explore every inch of your body alongsides his mouth, the uncertainty of whether his next move will be mending or hurtful only adding to your excitement. He observes you intently, pupils blown wide by this sheer addicting deed.

His tongue forces your mouth open, the metallic taste of your own blood invading your senses. He can feel your pulse spiking up, as if that feeble little heart of yours wanted to remind him it knows exactly who it belongs to.

Good.

The others tasted so fucking disgusting. But you...

"Fuck" he panted against your skin, drunk on the feeling of having your mind and body submit to him so easily. "So fucking perfect...taking it all so good...it's like you were made just for me..."

Finally he could be as close to you as he deep inside always dreamt to be, and you were enjoying this twisted kind of love.

Part of you is now incorporated in him forever. Poetic.

After what felt like both an eternity and a flash of time, your boyfriend kissed a spot that had just healed for the last time, licking his lips in satisfaction and pulling away.

At long last, he was satiated.

Sitting up, Mark was practically beaming at you, with a look like you had hung the moon just for him. "Damn, babe" he cackles, the metaphorical fog around his soul finally lifting. "You're a freak, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one." You roll your eyes with a wide grin on your face, and the endearing sight makes him crash his lips over yours once again, sighing contently into your mouth.

Before you knew it, your boyfriend began trailing more sensual kisses across your body - from your neck down to your collarbone, chest and finally down your navel, making you shiver the further he descended.

A wolfish smile is playing on his lips as he settles between your legs, his teeth softly nipping into your thigh, mischievous eyes never leaving yours.

"Hope you're ready for dessert..."

[killishin]

— ♡ right person at the right time.

PART 04.

pairing: jason todd x reader

category: lots of fluff, angst, he fell first she fell harder kinda trope, sfw, thinking of making this a slow burn but we'll see.

content warning: afab, mention of death (reader's mother), violence here and there, mention of blood, inaccurate medical talk, not proofread

summary: reader's just a normal citizen of Gotham, scrambling to making ends meet. after a fateful encounter, when he saw the reader kick ass and save a life- he can't get them off his mind. and fate just keeps pulling them together forcing him to do something about it.

a/n: im having a shit week but at least i have time to write. enjoy :)

wc: 3.8k

fic masterlist. previous. next

dividers by @cafekitsune

easing back into normalcy wasn't easy, not after that very weird, very out of the blue— very pretty— gift. you had wrapt it back in its box and kept it safely on your vanity as if your clumsy hands would somehow shatter the rubies. you had decided to give it back to red. you knew well in first glance that it would have hurt his pockets hard enough— and you just can't accept something that expensive as just an apology.

but he didn't turn up. that sly idiot did not come, it has been a whole week now. and you tried to rationalise that he has far more responsibilities on his shoulders than to play buddy buddy with you but you just wanted to return something that you possibly don't deserve.

you kept your grubby hands off of it without any problem initially, then your heart began tugging you along, wanting you to just wear it. its pretty, you love pretty things who doesn't?

your eyes stared at it, lips puckered in a deep frown, struggling with the polite part of you. the rubies stared back, like sirens calling.

that's when there was a knock, no not on the balcony but from the main entrance. you almost released a disappointed sigh as your heart had momentarily awakened in anticipation of that vigilante.

you opened the door and Kira barged in with bags— shopping bags held on both her forearms. you closed the door with an amused smile and folded your arms, "looks like you finally emptied your bank account huh?"

she rolled her eyes but her giddy smile stayed etched, "of course not! i didn't pay for it. at least not mine." your brows furrowed and she continued, "we're going to the gala!"

in contrast to her excited yelling, your brows just further furrowed, lips scrunching up as you walked towards her, poking at the bags in confusion and suspicion. dresses, two in total. "who's we, kira?" you questioned before giving her a pointed look, "tell me you don't mean me."

kira is a reporter, a good one at that, just reaching her prime and she has been to a good number of galas.

her lips turned downturned, brows furrowing and you immediately scoffed, "i can't believe you—"

"but its a gala."

"filled with those snobby, rich, insensitive—"

"it has great wine. and food."

"i can get great food at the diner down the road. and its made by a sweet old lady-"

"its a Wayne gala."

your lips seized for a moment, stopping as you registered the words. in your eyes all those charity galas are nothing but places for the rich to practice their laughs and stew in gossip. but you've heard of the most talked gala, the ones the Wayne's throw. and while you still have your reservations about it, you know its one of the genuinly best parties. it has the best cuisine selected, the wines are somehow always something new and better than last, the arrangement actually shows refined taste.

maybe for a day you can set aside your differences, at least you can have an experience of a gala, the best one at that. even if it'll suck at least you'll have a story to tell.

so you consider, much to your chagrin, you do.

"its still gonna be filled with those pricks." you grumbled, though it sounded more petulant than firm and she bit back a smile, "yeah but who says you gotta talk with anyone of them? I'll quickly scope any scoop i can get then we can dance, and drink and eat- all while looking the most gorgeous in the room."

and she's got you.

"alright when?"

"dress up, pretty. we're leaving in an hour." she winked before happily taking the bags to your room and you followed behind with a sigh.

"its been soo long since we went out together-"

"didn't we just eat dinner together yesterday?"

"that wasn't going out, that was just stewing in each other's depression." she scowled before stopping dead on her tracks, her eyes trained right on the earrings.

"oh. my. god."

"oh shit—" you cursed under your breath before rushing to hastily close the box. she clicked her tongue in annoyance before swatting you away, opening it back up and gasping yet again.

"who gave you these?!"

you reeled back a bit with an offended frown, "why did you assume someone gave it to me? i could have bought it too."

"with that salary? yeah right." she scoffed before back to cooing at the earrings as if its literally her baby.

"out with it. who gifted you these hm??" she teasingly asked and your groaned, pulling the box gently out of her grasp and putting it back down.

"no one. i mean— a friend."

"right a friend." she scoffed, "at least he's a loaded one for sure."

"its nothing kira. im gonna return it."

"why?!" she stares at you like you just committed a heinous crime, making you scoff. "because its too expensive?"

"so??" she scoffed back as she rested a hand on her hips, "come on if this didn't hurt the pockets of the one who gifted you, you should just thank the daylights outta them and wear it."

"but—"

"not wearing it will be a disrespect to the gift. to the person."

"....you know this is called manipulation?"

"not if its for your best interests." she shrugged as a cheshire smile adorned her lips, "also they're just too pretty to return because you're an emotional idiot."

and so she finally convinced you to go, wearing those rubies. you felt a bit bad for wearing them without even thanking him prior to it. the guilt was there, like a persistent ache, but it lightened at the sight of them on you. they really were beautiful, you didn't linger on why he specifically bought rubies, chalking it up to him just really being obsessed with red.

and as you left, lost in the shine of the red on you, you failed to notice the red reflecting off the glass of your balcony.

"kira what the fuck?"

"i know."

it was beautiful, down from the drapes to the architecture, the carefully selected wine that tasted just the right amount of sweet and fizzy, the chandelier— the chandelier. it was straight out of some fantasy, some fairytale and all its missing is the fluffy gowns. of course its ethereal, it would be since its held in the Wayne manor itself— something kira failed to mention.

"you didn't tell me it was hosted right in the manor!" you whispered to her, nervously yet awkwardly looking around. it wasn't that you were a mess at interactions, its just you don't want to be caught fawning over the art and architecture all for a rich snob to sneer at you. you really do not want to out yourself in a sea of sharks.

"it was supposed to be a surprise!" she grinned, this time it really was innocent and you sighed, shaking you head as you smoothened your dress for the umpteenth time.

"you gotta relax, pretty." she reassured, gently steering your shoulders towards herself, "do what you like. flirt with whoever you want or simply geek out about the art. the people here are way too self absorbed to notice us, trust me." times like this you really do feel grateful for a friend like hers.

"and if someone bothers you, i'll take care of them. just holler." she grinned wickedly, winking at you as she pulled back.

"holler? in the middle of the gala?"

"yep." she chuckled as she started walking away, "they won't remember us anyway."

you shook your head as you stifled a laugh, something told you she has brought the wild side of her to a lot of galas.

but then you realise you're alone. while she makes her round for any potential scoops, you need to keep yourself company. so you snatch a wine before looking around, actively avoiding everyone's eye. you pick a relatively empty corner by the huge window stool, leaning against the wall as your eyes admire the particular painting up on the wall.

"not fond of socialising i presume?"

your skin jumped a bit, the wine sloshing around in the glass a bit as you looked beside you. you really didn't hear him— him, oh he's a gorgeous him alright.

"didn't mean to startle. dick grayson." he smiled, a certain playfullness to it before he extended his hand towards you.

your eyes flickered to his hand and then his eyes, skeptical but also a bit confused. not only have you seen him somewhere that name sounds awfully familiar—

"oh!" your brows jumped up as you shook his hand, quite a reflex action since you realised this damn manor was technically his home. "hello— hi. sorry i didn't recognize-"

"its no problem." he chuckled, amusement rolling off of him and you're already starting to see the proof of his charm that the gotham talks about, "i tend to gravitate towards the more interesting people in these boring galas, so i should be the one apologising if i... intruded."

he did not sound apologetic at all, instead his eyes simply flared with delight as he looked down at you. it unsettled you, not exactly in a creepy way, but you do want to be a part of whatever he is concocting in that pretty head of his.

"interesting? how is me standing in a corner interesting?" you mused as your raised a brow at him, willing your nerves down. he stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets before looking around, his brows furrowing in fake annoyance.

"you're not among them, gossping and bragging. or feeling me up." he makes an exaggerated shudder of his body before sighing and you stifle a laugh, "the gotham elite has some drama every other tuesday, so i get them needing to gossip." you shrugged and he caught the way you subtly grouped him with them.

"also i thought you liked the attention. i don't mean to assume, but it certainly looked that way in the tabloids." you said and he immediately grinned teasingly , "really didn't take you to be interested in tabloids."

"im not." you come to your defense, quite quickly so, "but i see them here and there. in passing." you're definitely not going to accept that in front of anyone, much less the source.

out of the corner of your eye you noticed the center being cleared, lights dimming down. as if that was exactly what he was waiting for he extended a hand and did a little bow, and you wondered just how many people has he charmed to be this confident.

"great to know you're interested." he said and before you could deny that he tilted his head towards the center, where few had gathered. "a dance? something to break your assumptions." his smile wasn't inviting, it was challenging. everything about him seemed mischievous, as if he was upto no good.

still you accepted, and he was a good dancer. he swayed you right, the dip was perfect— though his hold did get tight suddenly.

dick on the other hand, he wasn't looking at the pretty lady in his arms, no, he was looking at his brother right across the room shooting daggers at him. he smiled back, wide and smug, before mouthing, "she's really gorgeous."

Jason's fist tightened as his jaw clenched in unmasked ire at his brother's antics. he would have regretted coming here, as he always does, but he really can't stand you in his arms.

so what happened was he had... eavesdropped on your conversation with your friend. he only wanted to check up on you but the mention of gala really caught his attention. more when the name Wayne reached his ears, he should have left at that. he never attends Bruce's galas, hates them with a passion— not to mention any interaction with bruce that puts him in the spotlight really throws him off. but then you wore the earrings— his earrings. and just like that his heart swayed.

it swayed so hard to the point he doned on the suit, full black and formal. and while the stares and whispers made his eyes twitch, he was far too enamored by the sight of you, beautiful and stunning. he can't help the pride that swells in his chest as the earrings glint in the warm light, he does have impeccable taste.

he would have approached first, he really wanted to but he wasn't red hood right now, he wasn't the red you knew, he was just.. jason. the man who promised to text back for the settlement of the coffee but left you on unread. yeah he really forgot about that.

and he was content with simply watching, but apparently his brother wasn't. dick was already flabbergasted when jason called him to let him know he's coming, reluctantly requesting him to handle bruce in case he swarms jason. and ever the curious cat that dick is, he needed to know why the sudden change of heart.

and his eyes followed Jason's line of direction and settled on you, immediately remembering you from the cafe.

now being the good brother he is, it is his... duty, you can say, to push his brother on the right path. and so that is why he is swaying with you, your innocent yet awkward smile in sharp contrast to Jason's glare at a distance.

his dimples simply deepened as he watched jason literally march to where you are, so confidently and smoothly evening out his frown before plastering the same charming smile dick has.

"really sorry to cut in." he wasn't. before you even knew what was happening, who it was and why the hell did dick wink at him—

oh.

Jason's hand engulfed yours, intertwining, while his hand slipped around your waist yet it felt as if it was hovering. he didn't even pull you close, the gap almost felt awkward yet his eyes didn't show that discomfort. he was giving you a choice, asking while respecting your space.

"you." you whispered out, and your brows raised slowly, "the guy who helped. jason was it?" you remembered his name, you weren't one to forget so easily. but it did hurt your ego a tad bit to not get a text back, its not like you were hitting on him, you simply wanted to return back the money.

his lips pulled into a sheepish smile as he looked away for a moment, cursing his past self for his stupid decisions. it made sense at that moment, to keep you at an arms length. "one and only."

you stepped closer to him, letting your hand rest on his chest, a silent permission and in an instant his hovering hand rested on your waist. it was just a simple touch, you shouldn't make a big deal out of it yet his touch burnt you— it seared through the very fabrics and found its way to your heart. neck warmed, heart thudded— your breath stuttered for a good second, but it wasn't noticeable enough, you hope.

it was to him.

he looked different, maybe its the lights or the suit, but he looked different, dashing. beautifully so. you couldn't help the subtle way your eyes lingered on him, not stagnant on a particular point but all of him. eyes, cheeks, scars, neck, lips—

"i really want to apologise. for not texting." he said, making your eyes snap up and you hoped he didn't notice how sweaty your hands got, or felt the heat searing your body.

he did.

of course he noticed, he noticed everything— he sees everything. but you don't, and for that he's thankful. he's entirely thankful that you didn't feel the twitch of his hand on your waist, simply to bury the need to pull you closer. you didn't notice the way his eyes softened when you let him be close, the way his lips parted. he could finally let his eyes be, admire you in your beauty while being jason and not red.

"can i know why?" he twirled you and gently tugged you back in his arms, they didn't feel cagey. for some odd reason something about him felt... familiar. the proximity was less than it was with dick, yet it didn't raise any flags in your head.

"i mean i wasn't hitting on you. just wanted to return your money." you shrugged and that tone was enough to drag him out of his happy reverie, plunge him in ice cold water because you do not sound very pleased right now.

"i forgot about it— im so sorry." he winced out a smile as he swayed you a bit more, more snug and your eyes narrowed amusingly, " i forgot about it and since i don't bother with unknown numbers—"

"i mentioned my name. and i think i even added that im the person from the cafe." you cut through, faking an innocent tone but your eyes conveyed all the skepticism you felt , "the very same day too. so unless you've got amnesia— which you clearly don't— i don't see how you forgot about it." your smirk was challenging, taunting and his heart roared. it fucking roared in his chest. he should feel even a tiniest bit guilty but he doesn't. his mistake did lead to seeing you being mean and scathing— he loved that.

and as if some higher power (dick) was helping him, the tempo changed. it was faster than before, it had more tension.

it got his blood rushing, putting his rational side on the bench and letting his heart dictate every move. it was dangerous, it was stupid.

but did it matter?

one look at you, the slight pull of a smile on your lips and he doesn't even have to answer.

nope.

legs worked faster, his hands gripped yours harder, twirled you faster— till your back collided with his chest. you felt the slight brush of his jaw on your cheek, the smell of aftershave. the man you met in the cafe was gentle, reserved but nice. the man you're in the arms of is far more than that.

"anyway i can make it up to you?" he twirled you back around and pulled you close, his hand flat on your back. he tilted his head, and suddenly the gap lessened even more. you could see his eyes— the deep blue, the green. his pupils were dilated, depths that seemed to snatch you in them.

"by taking back the money i guess— you're good at this." you huffed out in slight surprise, your brows furrowing and he chuckled, deep and low enough to reverberate through you. "glad i could impress you."

"you were impressing me?"

"thought that was obvious?"

"no i thought you wanted to forget about me—"

you let out an inaudible gasp as he dipped you suddenly. you didn't know whether to be shocked or mad at him. but your heart didn't care for either, thudding so hard you wouldn't be surprised if the whole fucking room heard it.

"let me take buy you a coffee as an apology?" he whispered, smiling so smugly you scoffed at his audacity as he pulled you up.

"are you asking me out after ignoring me for weeks— no, months?" you questioned cheekily and he laughed, "im never gonna hear the end of it won't i?"

"you sound like you're already sure i agreed. i didn't yet."

"you didn't say no either."

"but i can."

"you won't though."

you glared at him but the smile on your lips gave away your amusement. your eyes caught kira in a distance, wiggling her brows at you.

you stopped before taking a step back, your body didn't appreciate being robbed of his warmth though. "it was nice meeting you again, jason."

suddenly grabbed your hand as you were about to walk past him, "the earrings look beautiful on you by the way." he smiled before walking away, the tip of his ears suddenly red despite the confidence he presented. your hand instinctively touched your earring and you smiled, yeah they are.

Jason's world was crashing down, hands twitching, curling and uncurling as it lamented the loss of you. he got a taste, and now he wants more. he already thought he had enough as red, meeting you in those little stolen moments were enough. but now he saw how you'd look in his arms.

his heart craves that.

its a storm in him, he should keep his distance. sever all ties all together, both as red hood and as jason. that would be the smart thing to do, the right thing. he shouldn't entangle his personal and vigilante life together, not that they weren't already. but at least to you, red and jason were different. and he thought both were undeserving of the warmth of life, all until you.

so why won't his heart want you? selfish, greedy— whatever his heart was it didn't matter, he didn't care. there was more than just a pull towards you, you had already made a snug little home in his heart and he couldn't find it in himself to evict you out. his mind and heart were yet again in a clash.

his phone vibrated. his brows furrowed as he looked down at it. immediately he scoffed out a laugh, you wired back the money. and texted him a lil something.

i don't like owing people. also i'm only free on weekends.

he shook his head. what storm, what clash? it didn't matter. it never did. you were already carving a you shaped hole through the walls around his heart.

"why the hell you didn't tell me you danced like that?!"

jason rolled his eyes at dick. he forgot how both him and bruce must have seen it all.

"i didn't know i could either." he muttered under his breath but dick didn't care, he wiggled his brows again.

"you guys looked snug and cosy."

"that you did." where the hell did Alfred come from?

"we were just dancing!"

"why didn't you tell me you were coming jason? and who was that lady?" great now bruce spawned out of nowhere.

"is this an interrogation?" he grumbled under his breath but dick only grinned.

"did she say yes?"

"to what?" jason frowned in frustration.

"you asked her out. did she say yes?" now he frowned for a whole different reason.

"i didn't—"

"you're dating?"

"excellent choice, master jason."

"im not—"

"oh he is. oh i wish everyone could see it." dick sighed exaggeratedly.

"you will tell no one—"

"already did."

jason rubbed his face as he looked up at the ceiling.

"i will shove your face in that horrible cake."

"....it wasn't horrible :("

taglist: @itzmeme @bmyva1entine @sept3mberchild @lightthatgoout @satan-s-ass @deadbeatphobos @starshinegrl @ttdamian

reblogs are appreciated :D

[bluem1lls]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a se-mi fic where the reader is really sweet/kind and is apart of Gi-hun's group in the games. So when se-mi starts flirting with her the boys go all big brother/dad mode and start getting protective. I just think it would be funny to see Dae-ho and Jung-bae doing their goofy marines bit, while se-mi is absolutely unimpressed and sassy and the reader is just watching from afar happy that they're all 'getting along'. Thank you and I love your writing <3

✧₊⁺ i'd do it all again

✦ synopsis: she's very willing to flirt with you, even if there's two are always there to try to stop her from doing it!

tw: pure fluff!

authors note: hiiii, its short but its a week update and im DEAD so dhhdhdfh i hope u like it!!! tysm for the request💓💓

-> "fuck" my head hurts from the impact as i open my eyes to see a girl.. on top of me. her eyes widen as she tries to stay still. her arms keep my body trapped underneath her.

"shit- i'm so sorry" she whispers slowly, trying to not get caught by the doll from the game.

as i can hear it say 'green light' once again. she stands up quickly, lending me her hand as we start running. i can see my brother's eyes moving across the entire room trying to find me because he lost me out of his sight. when he does, he lets out a big sigh as he runs to my side, staying still as we hear the 'red light'.

-> once we're get to the finish line, i lay on the floor, exhausted. my eyes try to find the short haired girl. i stare as i see her bent over, trying to catch her breath.

"you're not allowed to leave my side, ever" dae-ho, my brother, grabs my shoulders as i rolled my eyes. "i'm serious."

"i know, i'm sorry. a girl tripped over me."

as we turned around to head to the main room, i see the girl's eyes follow me until we arrive.

-> as we're done voting, my brother, being the social butterfly he is, already got us a group.

i sit besides gi-hun as i stare the surroundings. i can feel my brother's arms around me as i groan. the girl who fell on top of me stares, quickly removing her eyes of me as i find her sight.

-> and i try multiple times to talk with her, but everytime i seem to get somewhat close, she's moving around as i frown. maybe she's awkward after the way we met but, i'm still curious.

-> as the second game begins, we get together until they announce 'group of 5'. their eyes widen as in-ho tries to move aside, i grab him as i shook my head no. i turn to leave as dae-ho grabs my arm, serious.

"there's no way-"

"listen, i'll be fine. i have an idea. i promise i'll be fine."

"no you liste-"

it's too late, because i'm already running to the pierced girl as she stares up and down at me with a smirk. great, finally an excuse to talk to her and i know she can't run away this time.

"you owe me. and i need a group" i said to her as she scoffed in amusement.

"oh? i owe you?"

"you fell on top of me!" i reply as she hums, playing with her lip piercing.

"what's wrong with your boyfriend's team?" she lifts an eyebrow as i stare wide eye. boyfriend???

"that dumbass?!" i point at dae-ho."he's my brother, ew."

her expression turns into a surprised one, quickly returning to her normal one. was that why she was avoiding me this whole time? i chuckled softly as she did too.

"oh- right. sorry. so um, let's go get three more people" she says, turning around as we see the purple hair guy coming in our direction. we both stare at eachother at the same time, smiling.

great.

-> as we pass the second same, i sit with them, waiting nervously for my brother and the group's return. i see them arrive with a smile as i get up to throw myself into his arms as he hugs me tight. i hug every one of them, happy to see them again.

-> as the night comes, i eat my food while chatting with the group until i see a someone in front of me. i lift my gaze to meet her brown eyes.

i lift my eyebrow as i slowly smile. "hi"

"hey.. thought you could use the company" she said with amusement, sitting next to me. "and, you never told me your name.."

as i tell her, she replies with hers. se-mi.

"pretty name for a pretty girl" i chuckle at her poor attempt to flirt as she laughs with me.

i feel arms wrap around me as i turn my head. of course. i roll my eyes as i sigh.

"hello ladies. i'm dae-ho" he says (to se-mi, mostly) with a serious expression as she stares unfazed and gives him a head nod. "her brother, but you probably guessed since we have the same 'pretty face', like you said." he tells her, trying to put his most 'older brother' face as i elbow him on the ribs.

"get out, oh my god you're so annoying" i said removing myself from his grip as he stares, offended.

"i'm trying to look after my little sister! you can't date someone from this game"

"we're not dating! leave!" i whisper/shout at him as he stares like a puppy while i push him out.

"i was in the marine, by the way!" he tells to her, turning around one last time as she smirks.

i sit again besides her as i huffed. she smiles, amused.

"so that was.. interesting" she plays with her lip piercing, the smirk never leaving her lips. i nod as i stare away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "does that mean every time i'll try to talk to you, you'll have a bodyguard?" she chuckles as i nod, embarrassed.

"i mean.. probably"

she hums as her gaze meets my eyes.

"i can do that."

and she means it.

-> and as the days go by, we become closer and closer. hugging eachother everytime we see the other one survived the game, teaming together and staying all night talking.

and she's so pretty, that it doesn't feel surprising when she's making me blush from staring too much, or when i get butterflies everytime she whispers sweet things to me because she knows i love it.

-> and after one specific hard game, i realize i wanna spend every little minute with her. too scared to loose her, i'm asking her to bring her mattress besides mine. as i'm helping her to move it, i can see two people standing in front of us, staring to see what we're doing.

"are you two sleeping together? i don't think thats a good idea." jung-bae says as my eyes widen. "you look like a good young girl, but we can't trust too much" he says to se-mi as this one stares and gives him a soft chuckle.

"that's true. sleeping together is a step too far. are you two dating?" my brother nods at jung-bae's words as i cover my face in embarrassment.

"not yet" she smirks at my brother as his eyes widen.

"can you two just... shush away?" i murmur to them, staring at both.

they look at each other as i move them softly aside.

"i can't believe the disrespect we face. from two young girls" jung-bae says as dae-ho nods.

-> and as the night comes, we lay side to side while talking.

"i really like this.. spending time with you" she says, making me smile. i feel her cold hands with the rings cup my face as i stare at her. "do you think your brother's awake?"

my expression turns into confusion. "um.. no? i don't think so?"

"good" she mumbles against my lips as she kisses me. i let out a soft moan in surprise as i melt into the kiss.

"i knew you weren't a good girl!" my brother jumps from the bed, his finger pointing to se-mi, making us break from the kiss to stare him.

"oh my god where you spying this whole time? you're a fucking-"

"hey careful!" he says, his finger now pointing at me. "now. if you want my sister, i will make your life a living hell" he warns se-mi as she lifts her arms, smiling.

"she's worth it" she says as we both stare at her.

-> and he means it. because even when we leave the game after voting 'x', she warns me many times i'm not allowed to disappear now that she's attached. not like i was going to. but wherever i go, he's also always there too.

and all the guys are also there. even gi-hun, jung-bae and in-ho, warning her every step of the way, as me and jun-hee chuckle. and se-mi starts loving them too, because she's sure she won't be able to get rid of them (she tried!)

with our poor relationship with our father, jung-bae ends up turning into more of a father figure to us, being the one supporting my brother through everything, but also being there for me everyday.

and with time (a lot of family dinners we have together) they start to soften up for her.

-> so it's not a surprise when a few years later, at our wedding, she takes a video of how our life together has been and a video of my brother and jung-bae shows up.

"are you- are you asking us for our blessing?" dae-ho sobs as jung-bae seems to be suppressing his tears. i can hear her laugh, although i can't see her because she was the one recording the video.

"i don't think i would be able to go through it if i didn't" she says, softly.

they're both crying now as they hug her.

"i knew you were the one!" jung-bae says, sobbing like a baby while she laughs.

"we knew it! that's why we went easy on you!" dae-ho says, wiping away his tears.

"yeah, i figured" se-mi says, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

i turn to the side to hug her while i kiss her, laughing as dae-ho and jung-bae stare at the video, blushing red.

"we agreed that was a secret!" jung-bae says, embarrassed as gi-hun hugs him with a chuckle.

"that's-that an edition. se-mi! you said you wouldn't play that" dae-ho says to her as she shrugs.

i cup her face on my hands as she laughs. her gaze meets mine. "i love you so much." my stare filled with love like the first day i met her.

"mh, i love you so much too. happy family, happy wife and happy life right?"

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

(Would love to hear you rant about ateez sub/doms please 👀❤️)

➯a/n: i could hug you rn omg you have no idea how bad i wanted to do something like thiiiiis ! im doing a post for each member and will link them here because i genuinely could not shut the fuck up once i started LMAO. i'll do as many as i can tonight and the rest tmmr kkkkk enjoy my depravity <33

ATEEZ in bed

In Which: Star has many, many thoughts about how the members act in the sheets.

❥ATEEZ x fem reader

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut, ranting / headcanon style

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: listed on each memeber, not grammatically correct, pretty much every kink you could think of so buckle tf up lmao (including but not limited to: ddlg, cnc, piss kink, anal (members and reader), praise and / or degradation, the list goes on and on... and on)

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

18+.MINORS GET BACK. BACK I SAY🤺.

❝PARK SEONGHWA❞ is a nasty soft dom.

❝KIM HONGJOONG❞ is a dom leaning switch.

❝JEONG YUNHO❞ is a rough teasing dom.

❝KANG YEOSANG❞ is the most dominant and mean.

❝CHOI SAN❞ is a vanilla dom.

❝SONG MINGI❞ is a sweet sub with moments of dominance.

❝JUNG WOOYOUNG❞ is the king of filthy switch dynamics.

❝CHOI JONGHO❞ is rough and passionate.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃

in order of freakatude: wooyoung, yeosang, yunho, seonghwa /hongjoong (interchangeably because it's a fine line), mingi, jongho, san

in order of dominance: yeosang, yunho, seonghwa, san, hongjoong, jongho / wooyoung (again fine line but also wayyyy different ?), mingi

yeosang. i am a FIRM believer that he's fucking filthy and mean, i feel it in my gawls (return of the girl bawls !!). it's always the quiet ones !! this man is absolutely too calm, he's fucking his emotions out. he doesn't fight back in day to day life cause he's fighting you in the bedroom (and winning, everytime). would absolutely let him man handle me and would have zeroooo complaints as he takes out his frustration on me. i am indeed his bitch ❤︎

yunho. there's a compilation of him staring at people that i watch AT LEAST once a week, it practically screams "im thinking about ways i could make you squirm". he's almost as filthy as yeosang and wooyoung, and he isn't shy about it as he tells you he wants to bend you over and spank your ass raw before he fucks you. want that, need that, pls and thx <33

seonghwa. he isn't mean but he is noooot a sub. maybe, on rare occasion, he'll let you on top but he enjoys taking care of you and making you all dumb on his cock... i need him in ways that go against my moral compass ♡

san. he isn't rough and he doesn't take charge on purpose, just kind of happens cause that's who he is. guiding you into different positions to try and get further up inside you- get closer. want him to hold my hand while he pouts about wanting to be deeperꨄ︎

hongjoong. OOOOOOHHH IM SO VERY NORMAL ABOUT HIM — he's very diverse in his dynamics, one day he's a teasing jerk while fucking you dumb, the next day he's begging you to fuck his ass, then he's worshiping your body like you're an angel. more often than not, he's dominate. but when he's had a rough day he wants you to please take care of him and jerk him off until he cries all while he's being a brat about it and omg i need to stop- i would do literally anything with him ❣︎

jongho. he isn't dominant and he isn't submissive either, he likes to be even with you. but he also likes it rough and isn't above throwing you into a better position or holding you up against the wall. can he pretty please pull my hips to make me go faster while i ride him ? it's not a want, it's a need♥︎

wooyoung. i once described it as hot potato with dom / sub dynamics and i stand by that !! 50 / 50. he's a brat no matter what, dom or sub. and he's filthier than yeosang (who has almost zero things he won't try), wooyoung will try anything and everything once- both receiving and giving. i want to take turns degrading each other to see how far we can go 🝮

mingi. pretty little princess ugh i want to- let me slow down. the new video of him short-circuiting when yunho flirts with him confirms again and again what i already knew in that he is a subby, subby, sub. he likes to let his brain shut down while you make him feel good and do whatever you want, and he's so sweet about it too. he even actives my dominant side and that's kinda rare. wanna hold his pretty blushy face while i ride him until he passes outᰔᩚ

okay i'm gonna go take a very cold shower !! bye byeee

xoxo, 💫

[c4tluver02]

full machine

wc: 1.3k

summary: Steve is finding it hard to make it up to you, seemingly making things worse. What could he do to make it up to you?

warnings: none! angst , hurt , slow burn ;)

a/n: eee i am so glad u guys liked the first fic !!!! I struggled a bit writing this i didn't love any of the versions that i wrote but sigh hopefully u guys enjoy!!

part 1, part 2, part 3

I'll heal eventually, but faster if you're next to me. ♫

Two weeks have come and gone since Steve had last seen you. Normally you take a week and a half to two weeks to return the film… Not that Steve kept track or anything. But he was waiting for you. He needed to talk to you about your last visit and hopefully explain himself. 

A few days after it all happened Robin was back with Steve at Family Video and he told her everything that had happened. The way you so graciously offered to help him, to the way you left like there was some bomb that Steve didn’t know about. It was just another thing he had to deal with, one more dent in his beat up armor. Which when he really took time to think about it maybe he was saving you. It felt like a waste of a charity case for you to spend all this time to get to know him when there's nothing to stay for. You were worth more than that– you deserve more than having to deal with all the trauma he has or listening to how hard it is putting on a brave face for the kids. 

So a rehearsed speech is what felt safe. A simple way of telling you to run and don't look back but in a way that wouldn't hurt you any further. It was killing two birds with one stone really, you wouldn't be stuck with him and he wouldn't feel devastated when you left. A full proof plan. 

– 

Although Steve would have appreciated a day or two more to think over his plan but here you were the next day. Waiting at the counter in the prettiest sundress Steve thinks he's ever seen. Your hair is curled perfectly and the closer he gets to the counter the more he can smell your perfume– so sweet and warm. 

“Hi, you're back!” It comes out casual but Steve's heart is thumping so loud he worries if you could hear it. 

“Yeah I have a movie to return.” You say sliding it across the counter to him. The barely there smile you gave did nothing to heal him. 

Steve wants to blame the lack of time he had to prepare for how he stands there just looking at you. The day he normally waits for is now here and it isn't going how it's supposed to. Your big smile is nowhere to be found and the laugh that makes his dreaded thoughts go away isn't heard.

“Y’look real pretty.” He's typing the movie into the system, not even looking at you as he says it but you know it's sincere. Everything about Steve is sincere, you've never known him to think too little about someone. 

You’re unable to stop your cheeks flushing at the complement. “Thanks, I’m about to go on a date.” 

Steve thinks he could have gotten whiplash at how fast he just turned his head to look at you. Here you are in his store all dolled up for someone else. He must have done something dreadfully awful in his past life to deserve this. 

“A date huh? With who?” The tape is long forgotten and Steve has his arms holding himself up on the counter in case the answer wipes him out completely. 

“A guy I met at the pool.” You feel like you're in the police station with a bright light on you. The interrogation feeling completely uncalled for after he was the one who turned you down. 

Steves thankful he was holding himself up, the thought of you in a bathing suit and some guy snatching you up was good enough to make him feel sick. He knows how men work. He's a man for crying out loud. He’ll use you for a hook up and you’ll feel even worse and because of Steve's stupid screw up you won't come to him for help. 

“Y’sure that he's not some douche that wants a hookup?” Steve asks, tilting his head to the side. He just wants you to rethink this, maybe stay with him and talk things through. You’ll leave happier and Steve will feel better. 

But if looks could kill he’d be dead on spot. “Thanks for your concern Steve but despite what you may think, guys actually like me and want to go out with me. So if I'm all good I've gotta go.” You grab your bag and head towards the door before he even has time to respond. It's quick and painful like someone shot him, the wound would be felt for weeks. 

–

And Steve was right. He had gotten no sleep, his nightmares were long and horrific. Nothing was helping him and there was no one he could turn to. The dark bags under his eyes were matching evidence of it. Robin came over one day to try to help but nothing came of it. If he could talk to you now he’d explain everything. That the kids come crying to him 6 out of 7 days of the week, Jonathan and Nancy use him as a dating advice counselor more than a friend, Robin needs reassurance that she's not messing Vickie up with her night terrors. It's all too much and Steve doesn't know where you’d fit into it. Why’d you even want to fit into it? He’s been doing it for years and still doesn't have a hang of it, the notion of you leaving from the first sight of wreckage would be the thing that ends Steve.  

An idea Robin had was to take all the kids to get ice cream to ‘get his mind right’ as she put it. So he made it happen, sure it was 11pm on a Saturday night but if anyone knows that no one sleeps it’s Steve. All the kids were down to come out and enjoy a nice free ice cream night. It was getting hotter and even though the sun was long gone the ice cream still melted fast. 

“You look awful.” Mike says licking his ice cream from the cone. Steve asked for them all to get cups in hopes his car isn't ruined but none of them did so they are finishing it outside. 

“I know. I haven't left my place in days.” Normally Steve wouldn't let the kids even see him like this let alone tell them how depressed he's been. 

“You ever think about just going to her place and saying you're sorry?” Now it’s Dustin asking but the ice cream is leaking through the bottom of the cone getting all over his shoes. 

“Where do you think between all this I just got her address?” Steve asks, rolling his eyes. Maybe children wasn't the best to bring this up to. 

“Well you have her address in your system, you have it for anyone who rents movies.” Max adds. 

“That sounds very stalkerish.” Okay yeah this definitely isn't something he should be talking about with the kids. 

“What you need is a big gesture to show her you care. Going out of your way to her is the type of thing that will at the very least get you a conversation with her.” Dustin says. He’s not wrong. Unless you pretend to not hear the doorbell ring or the knock on the door a conversation would definitely be in order. 

The conversion ends there and Steve drops each kid off at their house. Not wanting them to be out too late, there's still hope to save their sleep schedule. 

He wants to call Rob to see if this is just a case of Steve being around kids too much or if she thinks this could actually work. Either way he knows she won't judge him for it but it's too late to ask now. Just something that will have to be held off for tomorrow when she finally sees him at work. Maybe, hopefully, tonight instead of seeing the Creel house in his dreams, he'll see you.

tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams

[idkyetxoxo]

Three | Faultlines | Shadow and Flame

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 3.1k

Warnings - Angst

<- prev || series masterlist || next ->

A week had passed since the Illyrian camp. A whole month of this secret growing inside me, silent and dangerous like a blade pressed to the throat. 

One month of pretending, of lying with every breath in my lungs, to my court, to my family. To myself.

The nausea hadn't eased. If anything, it had taken on new cruelty, ebbing and returning like a tide that threatened to drown me. My body ached in quiet rebellion, as if every part of it was at odds with the baby inside me. 

Still, there were no visible changes yet and for that, I was grateful.

I lay curled on my side, a threadbare book in my hands. I wasn't really reading anymore, just staring at the words and hoping they'd distract me from the relentless hum of dread in my chest.

The door creaked open without warning, and Eris stepped in, his red hair catching the firelight like a match igniting.

I sat up quickly, setting the book on my lap, trying to look composed, alert. Normal.

"Father wants us to return to the Night Court," he said without preamble, flopping down uninvited onto the foot of my bed. "He needs us to confirm Devlon's reports. In person."

I didn't even pretend to care. 

"Go without me," I murmured, turning my back to him. There was a pause brief, but sharp with surprise. I could feel his stare burrowing into my spine.

"Excuse me?" he said, incredulous.

I didn't blame him. Me? Choosing to stay in Autumn when I wasn't being forced? It was laughable. 

We both knew I'd have once burned down the entire estate for a chance to escape it, even for a day.

"I'm tired," I replied flatly. "I don't have the energy for court politics right now."

The bed shifted as he moved, and in one smooth motion, he plucked the book from my hands. "You're tired an awful lot lately," he noted, a quiet edge to his voice.

My entire body went still. I didn't respond fast enough. His eyes scanned my face, too perceptive for my liking.

So I forced a smirk and said, "Yes, well, someone has to do actual work around here while you're off charming half the court."

He let out a snort, the tension in the air thinning just enough. He bought it or at least pretended to. The knot in my chest loosened slightly.

Still, he didn't let it go entirely. 

"He wants both of us there," Eris said after a beat, softer now. "Something's... off. Father's been short-tempered. Even for him. Devlon's last missive had mentions of unrest in Windhaven. Disobedience."

That got my attention. "Unrest?" I asked, sitting up straighter.

"No one knows," he admitted. "But Father's paranoid. He wants confirmation with his own eyes. You know how he gets when power shifts even an inch."

I did. Gods, I did.

And maybe going back would buy me some time. Or information. Criva's herbs were no longer enough. The pregnancy was progressing, and I needed answers. Fast. 

What would happen when an Illyrian and Autumn bloodline mixed? Could it be hidden forever? Was it even safe to carry to term?

Eris took my silence as reluctant agreement and grinned, rising from the bed with theatrical satisfaction. "I'll be waiting."

"I haven't said yes," I muttered.

He leaned down, ruffled my hair like I was still a child. "You never have to. You always follow."

Not this time, I wanted to say. But instead, I stood.

Because as much as I hated the idea of seeing Azriel again, of having to lie to his face while something of him grew inside me—I needed answers.

And there were only so many places left in the world where I could still find them.

The reports were useless.

Whatever our father had hoped to uncover through Devlon's correspondence was either misinformation or a deliberate distraction. Nothing we'd read pointed to unrest, defection, or any threat worth this gods-damned visit. 

Either someone was feeding Beron lies... or they were setting something in motion that hadn't yet revealed itself.

Frankly, I didn't care. I was too tired, too done to play spy on behalf of a court that would sooner burn me alive than listen to a word I said.

But more than anything, I was annoyed. We'd wasted the trip, and now Eris had informed me we'd be spending the night in Velaris before heading back.

Perfect.

"Rita's?" Eris offered, a casual grin tugging at his mouth but I didn't miss the edge in his tone, the too-careful way he posed the question.

I hesitated. Just long enough to answer without answering.

"I'll pass," I said with a tight smile. "The music's too loud and the drinks are too strong."

"Since when has either of those things stopped you?" he countered, not unkindly, but I could feel it—that gnawing suspicion he was dancing around. A month ago, I would've been the one dragging him out the door for a night of mischief.

I shrugged. "I'm going to the townhouse. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"Which leaves me plenty of options," he called after me, but I didn't turn around. I couldn't.

The streets were quiet as I left, a soft breeze carrying the scent of the Sidra and flowering rooftops. I'd nearly made it when fate, in her cruel delight, twisted the knife.

Azriel. Training shirtless in the courtyard. A blade in each hand, wings flared, muscles rippling with every practised strike. Sweat slicked down his chest and back, catching the dying light and casting him in molten gold.

He looked like a fallen god. Or a curse made flesh.

His shadows twitched before he turned—always announcing me before I even stepped within reach.

Of course he knew I was here.

He lowered his blades slowly, his chest still heaving from exertion as he made his way toward me. Not quickly. No, Azriel always moved like a predator at ease, deliberate, measured, lethal even in stillness.

"You're back," he said, his voice hoarse from exertion. There was a faint rasp of amusement in it. "Didn't think you'd show your face again so soon."

I forced myself to nod, dragging my gaze up from his glistening torso to meet his face. Gods, why did he have to look like that?

"I didn't think it was worth a hello," I replied coolly.

A flicker of something passed through his expression. Not anger. Not quite confusion either. Just... disapproval. Disappointment.

And because he knew because he could sense that I was trying to push him away he crossed his arms over that broad chest, letting his wings fan out behind him, his jaw tightening.

"To me?" he asked. "Or in general?"

I stared at him. At the shadows that curled protectively around his calves. At the flex of his forearms and the glint of steel still strapped to his back.

He wasn't being fair. This wasn't fair.

"I'm tired, Azriel," I said softly, hating the way the words came out, dull and empty instead of sharp. I was always sharp with him. Always teasing, always biting. It was easier that way. Safer.

But nothing felt safe anymore.

His brows furrowed. He took a small step forward, not touching me, just breaching the space where warmth still lingered between us, a space that had once been sanctuary.

"You've been tired for a while now," he said, and there it was, the worry buried beneath his words, twisted up with jealousy and hurt. "You barely speak to me. And now you show up here and can't even look me in the eye."

I forced a smirk. "Maybe I'm just over you."

The words were a lie. A cruel, clumsy lie. One I hoped he'd believe, even though I knew he wouldn't.

His jaw clenched, and something flickered in those hazel eyes, something like pain. But he didn't lash out. Didn't snap. Just studied me for a long, quiet moment.

"Is that what you want me to believe?" he asked.

I stared at him. At the faint scar tracing his cheekbone. At the shadows curling at his feet, twitching with restrained tension. 

They didn't understand either—why I was suddenly cold where I'd once burned for him. 

Why the hands that used to reach for him without thought now stayed rigid at my sides. 

Why the mouth that used to whisper his name in the dark hadn't spoken it in weeks.

He was asking me to lie to him. To admit something I didn't mean so he could hate me for it. So he could finally let go. 

So I gave him what he asked for. "Yes," I said flatly. "Believe it."

Something sharp passed through his expression. Still, he didn't step closer. He didn't touch me like he used to. He just looked at me, through me, as if trying to peel back every layer I'd hastily wrapped around myself. 

Maybe he sensed now that he wouldn't like what he'd find.

"I don't get it," he muttered, mostly to himself. "We never made this anything serious—gods know we were never that. So what changed? Why now? Why cut it off completely?"

My heart beat a little too fast, too loud. I crossed my arms, needing something to anchor myself to. I looked away. I couldn't bear the confusion in his eyes. 

The way he was trying to make sense of something I couldn't explain. Wouldn't explain.

"I don't owe you an explanation," I said, biting each word off like it tasted bitter. "We fucked when it was convenient. That's it."

His brow furrowed, and this time his voice held a frustrated edge. "It wasn't just convenient."

I snorted. "Come on, Azriel. Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" he shot back, stepping toward me now. "Don't act like it meant something? Like you mattered to me? Because you did. You do."

My heart clenched. I forced myself to stand my ground.

"You have a funny way of showing it," I said, voice dry and brittle. "I was never anything more than someone you could disappear into when the world got too heavy. I knew that. You don't need to stand here and pretend it was something else."

He stared at me like he didn't recognise the person in front of him. "You're twisting this into something cruel. I never lied to you—I never promised more because you never wanted more. You were the one who drew the line."

"So what?"

I knew I was being unfair. I knew. But if I let myself be soft, if I gave in to the plea in his voice, I'd crumble. 

And then everything would come crashing down. The truth. The pregnancy. The life growing inside me that I was terrified to even name.

Azriel's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. His hands fisted at his sides. 

I saw it then, just how close he was to unravelling. How much he hated not understanding. How much it hurt him not to be able to fix what had broken between us.

"Is there someone else?" he asked suddenly, the words punching out of him like they'd been clawing at his ribs.

I blinked. For a moment, the fury in me dulled to a stunned ache. "No," I said, quieter than I intended.

His jaw ticked. "Then what are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything."

"You're lying," he growled. The shadows surged around him, curling like smoke, his wings flaring slightly behind his back. "And you know I can feel it."

"I'm not yours to interrogate," I shot back. "We were never anything real, Azriel. You want the truth? There's nothing here for you to hold onto anymore."

The words tasted like ash on my tongue. I hated myself for saying them. Hated the way his expression shuttered, like a door slamming shut on a room full of light.

His voice turned cold. "Then why are you still here?"

I faltered.

Because I was carrying his child. Because despite everything, a part of me still wanted him—in a way that terrified me. Because I didn't know how to be brave enough to tell the truth and not have it ruin us both.

But I couldn't say any of that. So instead, I offered him the last weapon I had left—distance.

"I won't be much longer," I said stiffly, already turning away. "You can go back to training. Or fucking whoever you want."

He didn't follow. Didn't call after me.

But his shadows did. They chased after me for a heartbeat, brushing lightly against my back, like they were reluctant to let me go. Like they remembered what I'd been to him, even if he didn't anymore.

And gods help me, I nearly turned around.

But I didn't. I kept walking.

Back in Autumn the next day, I felt like I was going to explode.

Literally.

No one had told me pregnancy would feel like this, like my body was a battlefield, and I was losing ground by the hour. 

My back ached, nausea simmered in the pit of my stomach, and the scent of roasted meat wafting from the dining hall only made it worse. 

Every muscle in my body screamed for rest, but Beron's monthly command dinner was not optional. Not for any of us.

Once a month, our father summoned all of us, every available son, his silenced wife, and me to sit down for a formal meal that felt more like a performance than a family gathering. 

No guards, no servants, no advisors. Just the High Lord of Autumn holding court over his fractured house.

The chairs around the long, polished table were occupied by his sons. Lucien, of course, remained absent. A sore spot Beron liked to twist whenever he was feeling particularly cruel. 

I sometimes wondered if Lucien had survived purely because he was smart enough to leave.

I sat between Eris, ever watchful, and Zag, who was currently picking at his nails with a dinner knife. Lovely.

My brothers had once been a coalition of tormentors, shadowy nightmares that made childhood a lesson in survival. 

Frogs in my bedsheets, dye in my bathwater, the heads of my favourite dolls stolen and paraded on pikes made from twigs. 

Lucien had defended me on occasion, Eris more often, but more times than not, I'd been left to pick up the pieces alone.

Now that we were older, the open cruelty had mellowed. The torment had become more subtle, more dangerous. Daggers dressed as questions. Smirks laced with suggestion. 

The only thing that had truly changed was that our father had become my worst bully of them all.

Conversation at the table was scarce, just a few murmured comments passed between brothers, and the occasional snide remark from one of them. 

The air was heavy with expectation, Beron's gaze flicking from one face to the next, always calculating, always measuring.

"How are affairs with the Night Court?" Beron asked suddenly, voice smooth as aged wine but sharp enough to cut. 

Though he looked at both Eris and me, I knew who the question was truly aimed at.

Eris straightened slightly beside me, always careful, always composed. "Steady," he said, his voice neutral.

My heartbeat quickened. Please don't look at me. 

My hands clenched in my lap, hidden beneath the table. I didn't think I could stomach any questions about the Night Court, especially not with Azriel's scent still burned into my skin, after the fight I'd barely walked away from intact.

Beron's gaze lingered a moment longer, then turned toward Zag, asking something inconsequential about trade routes, but I didn't relax. 

I couldn't—not when the entire dinner was just another stage for him to exert control.

This dinner was a tradition not out of love, not out of familial duty, but out of dominance. It was about reminding us all that we belonged to him. That no matter our power, our titles, our influence, he still ruled the table.

And we let him. Because the alternative was worse.

As the meal dragged on, Beron needled each of us with subtle jabs, probing questions, veiled threats wrapped in polite tones. 

He asked Zag about the inefficiency of his unit in border patrols. Chastised one of the others for the rumours he'd heard from Spring. And when his eyes fell on me again, my stomach turned.

"You look tired," he observed, voice a shade too curious.

I lifted my chin. "Long day."

His lip curled slightly. "Perhaps too long. I expect my daughter to uphold the strength of this court—not wilt at a little travel."

Before I could speak, Eris cut in. "She's been working closely with me on diplomatic efforts. It's taken a toll. She's earned rest."

I didn't look at him, but I felt the quiet protection in his words. It was not unfamiliar. Our bond, for all its rough edges, was the only stable thing I had left.

Beron's expression didn't shift, but his eyes cooled. "Let's hope the toll is worth it."

He returned to his wine, swirling it once with deliberate disinterest, but the threat had already landed. 

My spine remained straight, even as my stomach turned. He knew something or thought he did and that was worse. 

Beron didn't need certainty to become dangerous. Suspicion alone was enough to set him ablaze.

The rest of the meal crawled by in taut silence, save for the occasional clink of silverware or a muttered comment between brothers. 

But I could feel my father watching me like a predator waiting for the weakest step.

Later, after the meal ended and we were dismissed from the table like obedient little children, I turned the corner toward my room and nearly collided with him.

Beron. He stood in the shadowed hallway just outside the dining chamber, arms folded behind his back, posture eerily still.

"I trust you aren't hiding any weakness from me, girl," he said quietly, his voice so soft it scraped like ice over stone.

I froze. "No," I lied.

His gaze dragged over my face, too perceptive. "I've built this court on discipline, not excuses. Not indulgences. I won't have the only daughter I ever allowed to breathe air under my name falling apart because she's suddenly too delicate."

My lungs locked. "I haven't—"

The back of his hand struck the wall beside my face—not touching me, but close enough that the stone cracked beneath his knuckles.

He stepped closer, the heat of his presence suffocating. "You're my child, not some courtly ornament to be coddled and tucked away when the real work begins. Remember that."

"I do," I murmured.

Beron's eyes narrowed. "Then prove it."

He left me with that, the sharp click of his boots retreating down the corridor echoing in my ears like a death knell.

I leaned against the cold stone wall, heart hammering beneath my ribs. I couldn't afford to let anything slip, not the fatigue, not the hunger, not the nausea that had begun rising again like bile in my throat. 

The bruises might've faded, but the pressure hadn't. It never did.

Beron's temper was like dry timber in the wind, one spark, just one and the entire house would burn.

And this child inside me... this secret about the Illyrian blood it carried—it wouldn't matter that I was his daughter. He'd burn me to the ground just to extinguish the shame.

It was a death sentence if I wasn't careful.

A/n - We finally get the big confrontation—reader saying that it's officially over and while Azriel knows something's off, he still doesn't understand why she's really pulling away :(

On top of that, Beron's starting to get suspicious and that just makes everything feel even more dangerous!!

Unfortunately, it's only going to get messier, but I still hoped you enjoyed it and please let me know your thoughts <33

Shadow and Flame tag list - @coffeebooksrain18 @jaybbygrl @slut4acotar @justtryingtosurvive02 @mortqlprojections @sheblogs @moonlitlavenders @windblownwinston @queenoffeysand @tothestarsandwhateverend @saamanthaag3 @metaphysicaldoom @natalijassav @bookishbishhh @yourenothingbutnottome @holb32 @etsukomoonbeam @fxckmiup @i-am-infinite @megwan

[quantum1mmortality]

Im so glad you're writing for Curly bc I'm so obsessed with him rn!! May I suggest (if you haven't done them already) some soft/fluffy post burn hcs? Like finally seing him again after a long drive to the hospital, mentally preparing yourself for what he might look like. Curly being so afraid about how you'd react, and just breaking down when you let out an "oh, Curly :(" and softly place a hand on his cheek, so worried that you might hurt him by accident that it's hardly even a touch at all. Curly leaning his cheek into your palm, having been so scared to see you and now so desperate for your touch.

Life returning to a new normal after a while, prosthetics and PT, skin grafts, so on. Lying in bed with him and being so relived and happy when he gets a spark of mischief like he used to and tries to tickle or play wrestle with you. Him quietly asking questions when the laughter dies down. if you missed his lips, or the blond hair you loved so much that now hardly grew at all. Reassuring him that it didn't matter what he looked like, or what he could and could not do anymore. He's still your curly.

Sorry this turned out so long 😭 I can't get him out of my head!

I LOVE what you wrote 🙏🙏 I'll be going off of these, taking bits and pieces of your hcs and then putting them in here. Overall just gonna be fluffy post crash Curly hcs :)

Of topic, but the way some people in this fandom treat post crash curly makes me nauseous. Finding out that some of you wouldn't treat him like I would makes me wanna cry. Maybe I'm too empathetic or maybe I'm a baby back bitch, either way, I'd care for this man so much. Y'all don't understand how much I love him.

Tw/cw; none!! One curse word but that's literally it (I think)

Not proofread

Extremely sensitive to touch for the first few weeks. I feel as though curly would be in incredible pain, but would try his best to keep your hands touching his cheeks, face, body in general. He'd even go as far as to whimper at how bad it hurt, yet still enduring it because he needed to know you still loved him.

He'd be so happy to see you anytime you were around. Just like pre crash, but it was more special. It got to the point where you would take off work for weeks at a time just to be with him, just so you could see him happy.

After the first two months of agonizing pain, you'd start touching him more. Not sexual, obviously, but just getting more physically affectionate. You'd be able to hug and kiss him goodbye, and hold on to his arm as you talked with him.

Speaking of talking, he wouldn't be able to, so you would talk for him. Basically telling him something, then answering any questions he may or may not have. You've known him long enough, you know how he'd react and question things, so it was practically a no brainer for you.

Now that he doesn't feel as much pain as he used to from your touches, you'd begin sleeping with him. NOT SEXUAL!!! Just cuddling up next to him in the hospital bed, laying your head on his shoulders and kissing him goodnight. Just like how you used to.

Eventually he'd start getting prosthetics, and aside from the physical therapy he's usually getting, you'd bring board games and playing cards so he could learn to use his new hands while still spending time with you.

Curly used to kick your ass in uno and honestly he still does. The trembling in his hands would slowly go away over time, and you were helping him with that much more than his physical therapist was; because at least he wanted to actually be around you.

After months and months, he'd finally be ready to take home. New prosthetics and a bunch of skin graft surgeries later, he's in good condition again. Not perfect in his eyes, but it is in yours.

He wouldn't be able to work, but Pony Express sends him checks as if he was. He gets enough from them, you could quit your job, but you don't want to be dependent on them. So you keep working.

Getting home from work is your favorite part of the day, having Curly be so happy to see you makes everything so worth it.

Your home life goes back to normal with a few exceptions, but nothing too drastic. Curly being in a wheelchair and still not being able to speak, but it's nothing you can't handle. You love him, you're willing to make sacrifices. He'd do the same for you, and you know that.

Bonus content; if you guys were married before the crash, once he got his prosthetic hands, he'd have you help him make a little beaded necklace for his ring to go on; that way he could still wear it :) he'd never take the necklace off once it's done

A/N; I've been pretty busy recently so sorry for the delay on requests; I have a lot of ideas for them though so hopefully they'll be out soon

[vainvenus]

proofread possession | op81 | pt. 1

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It's been a few weeks since the best day of Oscar's life and now it's the weekend of the Australian GP aka the weekend that replaces the best day of his life.

Includings: Journalist/photographer!oscar, mclaren driver!reader, oscar fanboys to the max in this, he's kinda of normal in this too, light stalking, reader is an absolute sweetheart we love you!!, this is short and surprisingly tame!

An: Triple header? Nah triple post!!! Sorry to my Oscar lovers I've been neglecting this fic 🫶🏿

@vanteel

It had been weeks since the best day of Oscar’s life.

Weeks since you had noticed him like really, truly noticed him.

Weeks since you’d walked onto that carpet at the F-175 event in that stunning black dress of yours and made eye contact with him of all people.

Weeks since you stopped, looked him right in the eye, and smiled like you knew exactly what you were doing to his brain.

And then you’d talked to him. Laughed at how eager he was on the red carpet. Got personal as if the two of you had known each other for years. Said you hoped you’d see him again at the next Grand Prix.

Oscar had been living on that memory like oxygen. Replaying your words in his head. Writing a half-baked piece about your mental toughness that never saw the light of day because every paragraph turned into a love letter disguised as sports journalism.

Now it was race week.

Media day loomed close and this time, Oscar had the flight back home booked, his camera gear cleaned, the badge request submitted through his publication.

But he didn’t have a paddock pass, the network he was with was supposed to get him one but now it was too late.

He was still going, yes but as a regular accredited photographer, buried under fifty other journos with lenses pointed at you. He’d get a glimpse. A quote if he was lucky. Maybe a photo from twenty feet away.

That should’ve been enough.

But it wasn’t. Not after you said you’d hoped to see him again. Not after the way you looked at him like he was worth noticing.

Oscar didn’t want just a glimpse anymore.

★

The brunette nearly missed the package.

It was sitting at his door when he got back from a morning shoot, slim and nondescript, the kind of thing he almost left untouched. No return address. Just his name, written in blocky, clean handwriting.

He crouched down and picked it up before entering his house. He felt the weight, oddly light, but something rigid inside.

His fingers fumbled the edge.

Inside: a sleek, velvet-lined envelope with the McLaren logo embossed in orange. And tucked just underneath it—

Two passes.

One was a paddock pass with his name printed in bold, and the other was a McLaren garage guest credential.

Not media access. Not a press group badge.

A personal pass.

A you’ve been invited by the team pass.

A you’ve been invited by her pass.

Oscar’s mouth dropped open.

And then he saw the note.

"Didn’t think you’d want to watch from the sidelines! I'll see you Thursday, bring your camera. – Y/N"

He let out a noise somewhere between a choked laugh and a whimper. He dropped into a crouch on the floor, holding the note in one hand and the passes in the other like they might vanish.

Oscar whispered, “No. No way.”

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, like if he blinked too hard the passes might vanish, like the entire thing was some elaborate hallucination born out of too much admiration and not enough sleep.

But the credentials were real. The lanyard had weight. His name was printed in official McLaren font. And that handwriting? He’d stared at it long enough on hats, jackets, papers, and photo backings to know—it was yours.

That did it.

Oscar screamed.

A full, unfiltered, disbelieving scream that bounced off the walls of his house.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!!”

He paced, hands in his hair, shaking the note like it was some kind of sacred artifact.

“She remembered me! Actually remembered me!”

He dropped onto the couch, then immediately jumped off it again. “Im gonna be in the McLaren garage as her guest. What the actual fuck! This is mental!”

He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, breathing like he’d just finished a race. “Bring my camera? I will. I will bring twelve.”

Another scream burst out of him, one pure joy.

“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die and I’m gonna haunt that garage forever. She’s gonna think I’m gonna be chill and normal about this and I am absolutely not. Oh my god.”

He clutched the note to his chest like it was oxygen.

He was already planning on having it framed above his bed.

★

Oscar barely slept on the flight over.

Between refreshing his email, triple-checking the guest pass, and trying not to combust thinking about you, the three-hour flight felt like thirty minutes.

Conveniently or maybe fatefully his publication had booked him at the same hotel as most of the drivers, teams, and press. He hadn’t seen you in the lobby, but he swore he caught a glimpse of your race boots peeking out of a gym bag yesterday when he passed the elevators.

He didn’t linger.

He wasn’t a creep.

Now it was Thursday morning. Media Day.

And Oscar was inside the paddock again, only this time not as just another photographer. This time, his McLaren guest badge caught the sunlight like a VIP pass to a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

Every step closer to the McLaren garage made his stomach twist tighter. He couldn't help but let the nerves get to him, be had been personally invited by someone he idolized for decades. He was nervously biting on his lip as he looked around like a lost child.

And then he saw you.

And all thoughts stopped.

You were walking through the paddock like you owned it, chatting beside someone in McLaren gear holding a clipboard. Your outfit was simple yet so you.

You wore a vintage papaya graphic tee, which he found cheeky and your jeans were that perfect mid-wash, straight-leg kind that fell just right over your burnt orange Gazelles.

Hair done. Nails done. Sunglasses sitting on your nose and your jewelry shining against your skin each time the Australian sun decided to shine on you.

Oscar already started to move his hands around his camera in attempts to get a candid shot of you speaking with whoever that was.

And then—

You spotted him.

He barely lifted his camera to his chest before you stopped dead in your tracks.

Your entire face lit up.

“OSCAR?!”

You were already jogging over, a grin stretched wide across your face like you were the one starstruck.

“Oh my god! You’re here!” You gasped, wide-eyed and glowing. “I didn’t think the passes would get to you in time!”

Oscar opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Because this felt unreal.

Because you remembered.

Because you cared.

“I...yeah...I got them.” He said breathlessly, laughing a little. “Tuesday afternoon. I practically screamed.”

You reached for his hand like it was instinct, tugging him a little closer into the shade of the McLaren hospitality unit. “I seriously was about to text someone like ‘if Oscar Piastri doesn’t show up today I’m throwing a fit.’ I’ve been checking every time someone came in—”

“You were…looking for me?” He asked, still stunned.

You looked at him like he was being ridiculous. “Obviously. I invited you.”

And God, you were close.

Oscar could smell your perfume—soft and clean. He could see the tiny smudge of eyeliner beneath your sunglasses. The flash of a smile that said I’m glad you’re here. The way you kept holding onto his sleeve like if you let go, he’d vanish.

“C’mon,” you said. “You’re not staying out here all day, are you? You’re coming with me.”

He blinked. “With you? Like...now?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You do have a camera, don’t you?”

He nodded, stunned.

“Then yeah." You grinned. “Come on, you're not my special guest for no reason. I’ve got press rounds to do and so many mini challenges with Lan and I need someone to make me look good.”

Oscar followed, limbs weak and heart doing laps in his chest.

Your special guest.

He was your special guest.

He didn’t know what he expected from Media Day but it wasn’t this.

He did not expect you to react as if he were an old friend you hadn't seen in years.

He did not expect you to tug him into your space, dragging him through the paddock with his head spinning and your laugh dancing in his ears.

And still, somehow, it felt exactly right.

[tttabii]

BY YOUR SIDE

heeseung x reader

warnings : none, fluff

THE FIRST TIME LEE HEESEUNG saw you, he was peering out from behind the fence and munching on a melon popsicle, and a feeling of curiosity swelled in his chest. He was ten. You were eight, small and scrappy, talking back to your mom in fast, animated Mandarin while pointed at boxes and commanding the movers.

Your Korean was pretty minimal and broken at that time, but your eyes were so bright, and when his parents bowed and nudged him to step forward and say hi, Heeseung managed to mumble something like, "Wanna play?"

You tilted your head and paused, confused for a moment, but you smiled and nodded. That was enough. He had quietly made it his job from then on, to allow himself to stay close.

You grew up together. You were practically joined at the hip. Heeseung helped you through Korean schools, corrected your pronunciation with gentle care, and promptly offered to sit next to you during lunch the few times you didn't make friends.

You, in return, introduced him to Chinese snacks that were too spicy for him, got him to pass English, and promised that you would make it big in acting one day. When he said he wanted to be an idol, you didn't laugh.

"Then I'll see you on stage while you see me on screen," you stated, running your hair through his hair and he smiled like it was the most normal future in the world. Even as he trained late into the nights and you started taking acting workshops, you stayed close together—texts, calls, study groups, coffee runs.

Heeseung was your person.

You were his.

So when Enhypen finally made its debut, it wasn't if he wanted you with him, it was when. "Be my assistant," he told you, not even 2 hours after his first stage ended. "I trust you. I need someone who gets me, and you get me better than anyone."

Initially you hesitated, not wanting to hold him back, but he was persistent. Heeseung was always persuasive when it came to you. So you said yes.

Now, years down the road, you were all but tied to his schedule. As his personal assistant, your phone was ringing and buzzing with calls, itinerary and updates almost all day long. You knew the exact brand of water he liked, the best snacks to keep his energy up, and how to fold his hoodies just right in the van.

You reminded him to stretch before rehearsals, dragged him to bed when he passed out on the couch, and made sure his mic wasn't crooked during comeback shows. The fans saw the photos of you sometimes, but no one ever connected the dots. You were always just "the assistant."

Still, there were moments—those close ones. Like when he'd call you late after a shoot just to hear your voice.

Or when his hand would linger just a second too long when exchanging his phone with yours.

Or when he would lean in during dinner with his voice barely above a whisper asking things like, "if you weren't my assistant, would you still stick by me?" and you would laugh.

What else would you do?

You had to. You couldn't fall, especially not for him.

But Heeseung was long gone.

Two months later.

Heeseung was sitting across from the interview camera, dressed in a nice black jacket and playing with the edge of the mic attached to his collar. The interviewer grinned. "So Heeseung-ssi, what's your ideal type?" he said casually.

He blinked before smiling softly as if he already knew the answer. "Hmm... younger than me, pretty obviously. I don't know, someone with a little bite. Someone with guts. Long hair. Pretty eyes. Maybe a little bossy," he chuckled. "Someone who speaks three languages and doesn't take shit from anyone. Yeah, that's my type."

Somewhere backstage, probably fixing his next outfit or yelling at his manager to let him nap for five minutes, you had no idea. No idea he was talking about you.

You didn't realize how much Heeseung spoke about your childhood until the other members began teasing him about it at least every other week.

They would say that he talked about you "a little too much" every time he talked about some random moment when you were trying to learn how to speak Korean, or how you would sneak him Chinese candies under the desk at school, or even the time he tried to dye his own hair in high school only to end up looking like a tomato—until you came to the rescue.

In the present, it was no different.

You were now standing behind Heeseung with gloves on, carefully brushing his hair as it absorbed the fresh dye—red this time, at his discretion. The others were lounging in the dorm, flinging snacks at each other and teasing both you and Heeseung once in a while.

You had somehow already become a member of the friend group, it came so naturally. They all liked you too. You were cool, reliable, and Jay even declared once upon a time that you made Heeseung "way less annoying." Pretty good praise.

"So what the hell is taking so long?" Sunghoon hollered from across the room, "Hyung, just shave your head next time."

"You're just jealous of the attention I get from her," Heeseung shot back, a lazy grin spreading across his face while you rolled your eyes at him from behind. Your fingers massaged the dye in carefully, still gentle even when you lightly smacked the back of his head for being annoying.

Then Jungwon gasped. "Oh my god—guys! The interview's up."

Your ears perked. You'd almost forgotten.

That interview. The one where Heeseung supposedly had given his ideal type. Everyone scrambled around to pull it up on their phone. You, however, were the only one left to wrap up his hair until Jungwon shoved his phone in your face.

"Here," he said with a smirk, "let's see if you can pick up on it."

You blinked and leaned in. "...someone younger than me, definitely," the voice from the video echoed. "Bold, long hair, kinda bossy—she keeps me on my toes. Knows three languages. I don't know, someone who gets me."

You stared at the screen, your lower lip already protruding. Ouch. Your heart twisted in your chest, something warm and sad washing behind your ribcage. He had never told you those words. You didn't even know he liked anybody at all.

Your eyes flicked down the comments - most were shipping him with a popular female idol—a beautiful one. One with long legs, a famous laugh, and someone who is definitely not you.

"OMG it must be ____ from that team, they're always at the same awards shows!"

"But she only speaks Korean and basic English??"

"He said THREE languages, guys."

"Can't be her, she doesn't even give off a bossy type like lol."

You frowned again, and handed the phone back. "It must be nice to have someone he likes" you said softly, like you weren't sure if you were joking or not.

The members went dead quiet for a moment. Jake and Sunghoon shared a glance. Jay blinked. Jungwon lifted himself off the couch with a groan. "You're joking," Sunoo said, laughing in disbelief. "You're actually serious? You really don't know?"

Heeseung turned his head slightly. "Wait-what are you talking about?" You stared at the ground. Heeseung stood up, his towel around his neck and the dye still setting. He tilted his head to look at Jungwon's phone. He didn't just look at the phone, though. He looked at the comments. He looked at the shipping. He looked at the name. His jaw tightened. You weren't looking at him anymore.

You were pretending to pack up the dye kit, stuffing gloves into plastic bags as if your heart wasn't on the brink of falling out of your chest. He took two steps forward. "Hey," he forgot to whisper, the tone was low, careful. "That... it wasn't about her."

You froze. You looked up. Heeseung exhaled. "I was talking about you. You idiot."

Your eyes went wide. Jake whopped. Sunghoon started clapping. Sunoo literally threw a pillow in the air. The others were screaming. And somewhere in the madness of your own surprise and his soft, stupid grin.

"What?" you mumbled, your voice only barely audible, eyes flicking between Heeseung and his members as if they were going to jump out and say this was all fake, that you were being pranked. But Heeseung didn't laugh.

His jaw popped slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck as if it might ease the pressure of everyone staring at him, and finally said, "I like you," again, a bit stronger this time, with his eyes dropping to the floor before they found you again. "I've liked you for a while. I know this is messy, with me... being who I am, and you being my assistant, and us knowing each other for like forever. But I meant what I said in that interview. It wasn't off the whim or random."

You didn't say anything. "And—" he was fast now, stumbling with words, like he was scared he would lose courage if he stopped talking, "I found you the acting job. Not a small one. A lead—you're the lead. And I don't want to spill, but your co-actor... may or may not be me." His ears turned red. "I pulled some strings. I just... wanted to keep my promise." 

The dorm exploded.

"OH MY GOD???"

"MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY??"

"Wait wait wait—how are y'all not dating already? This is some enemies to lovers stuff—except they're not enemies, just both dumb."

Sunoo was literally waving his phone around. "WE NEED TO MAKE A FAN ACCOUNT. You guys don't know this, but I have been saving videos since like last year. Do you know how many soft moments I have saved of you two???"

"Remember that time she fixed his tie for that shoot and he smiled for the first time that morning?" Jungwon chimed in, already on Photoshop preparing a layout.

"Post it anonymously," Jake laughed as he already started thinking of usernames. "'@heeandhisgirlmoments'? '@bossyandbunny'? No one will even guess it's her right? I mean, she's lowkey."

You were stuck in place, still processing the fact that not only did Heeseung confess, but Heeseung gave you the lead role in a huge drama... with him. Your chest had way too many emotions at once and it felt overwhelming so you did the only thing you could do at that moment which was step forward and hug him.

It wasn't just a hug. It was soft, slow, as if everything that was unspoken for years just came out in that moment. Heeseung froze for a second then exhaled and wrapped his arms around you tight—burying his face in your neck.

"About time," Jay exclaimed in a low voice.

"Come on. Just go kiss her," Sunghoon foolishly whispered to Jungwon, who immediately began recording like a psychopath.  

And, yeah. Maybe Heeseung did kiss you after that. A little shyly, but still his. His hand brushed your jaw like you were glass, and your fingers curled into the sleeves of his hoodie, heart beating louder than the others' giggles.

A camera click went off.

"OH YEAH THAT ONE'S GOING ON THE FANPAGE."

You didn't even care.

When you finally pulled away from Heeseung, your cheeks flushed and your heart doing backflips, you turned around to the chaos committee a.k.a. the rest of Enhypen, and saw them all huddled together on the couch cackling over their phones.

"Guys, what are you doing-" you started, but it was too late. Jungwon was giggling like a maniac as he replayed a video of you at the waterpark, arms around Heeseung's neck as he carried you on his back, with Ni-ki splashing water at both of you in the background yelling "Hyung! She's not even that light!!"

Another clip was of you feeding Heeseung a bite of rice with you yelling at him for not moving off the couch, where he smirked lazily with his head in your lap. All at once, your heart sank and soared.

These weren't just random videos—these were yours, soft and unfiltered. "Wait—how do you have all of this??" you asked with wide eyes.

Sunoo just winked. "We're always watching."

And then, you saw it.The fanpage. Already created. Already posting. Already viral. 

Comments coming in thick and fast underneath the account @enhyhub_loveline (definitely Jungwon, you saw the watermark and his editing style).

Fans had already started musing.

"Wait, is that Sunghoon's laugh I hear in the background?"

"Ni-ki splashing them?? The person has to be someone close."

"No one is denying it so it's practically legitimate members consent?"

"Does that mean Heeseung only needs to say it and they're official?"

Your fingers swiped across the screen as you had an epiphany: the public connecting the dots, but they didn't know it was you yet. Heeseung leaned over your shoulder, scanning the comment section.

At first, he didn't say anything. He just repossessed with a humoured laugh. "Well, I guess there's some confirming I need to do."

And just like that, the fandom is going to lose their shit.

note: part 2?

[two-white-butterflies]

i am only a woman, he is only a man

Description: In a world of suits and betrayal, Harvey Specter keeps his personal life personal. What happens when a new associate arrives and she's dancing on the line of personal and business?

Pairing: harvey specter/reader

Warnings: implied sex (i have lost the ability to write smut)

"Read all of this." Harvey dumps another stack of files on your desk before disappearing into the abyss called 'Pearson Hardman'. You have been working in this damn lawfirm for a week now, and not once has Harvey looked in your direction and made small talk.

He only comes here to drop files - to make you finalize agreements- and then tells Donna to collect everything. How is that man supposed to train you when all you have is minimal contact? You slowly adjust your glasses, pulling your sleeves back and preparing for another marathon of typing.

A sigh escapes your mouth. 'One day I'll be in that damn office and I'll treat the associates a whole lot better.'

"Hey," Donna stops by and leans on the slight window of your cubicle. Your eyes trail upwards, and you force a smile. "Hello,"

"Rachel and I are going out for some drinks later. D'ya wanna come?" Donna offers, and having a few drinks doesn't sound so bad. It's a Friday night and according to your contract you are not legally obligated to work on weekends. You just have to remember to put your phone on silent and make up a reason for Harvey when he calls.

You stare at the stack of files on your desk.

But at the same time, Harvey doesn't expect you to leave unless all the paperwork is done - and you don't want to finish this next week, when you are sure that there will be more work to do. "Unless you have a boyfriend and he'd be very mad to see you out." Donna shakes her eyebrows - and you know that it is a ploy to find out about your personal life. She tried to add you on Facebook yesterday.

You chuckle.

"Oh, no boyfriend. I wish." You groaned. Maybe then it'll be easier to get home with a boyfriend driving you around. "Wait, what?" Donna raised an eyebrow, her voice filled with disbelief. "You're so pretty and chic and exactly everything that a trust fund bro is looking for." Donna laughs. Pretty and chic are not the words that you would use to describe yourself - you prefer the term effortless.

Not like there is time to put in some effort because, again, work.

"Well, if Law doesn't work out, it comforts me that I might be a trust-fund baby's type." You joked in return while continuing to type furiously. 'I can't make any mistakes,'

"Men can be so blind, I swear. Have fun with your paperwork, and I'll tell Harvey to clear up your schedule next Friday. We deserve a girl's night out." Donna whispered so that none of the associates would hear. You suppose that the legal secretary has a soft spot for all females in this workplace - as it is male-dominated.

Harvard is male-dominated. Erase that; the world is male-dominated. Girls have to stick with each other, none of that bad blood shit.

"Thank you, Donna." You gave her a genuine smile.

"Okay, bye bye." She waved elegantly while returning to her cubicle parallel to Harvey's office.

Saturday afternoon. Pearson Hardman.

You had no desire to work on a Saturday, but your apartment is lonely, and your date just stood you up. You'd rather be doing something productive than mindlessly watching Netflix with Cheeto dust on your longue wear. It has been your fifth revision of this particular contract - you try to keep it neutral and fair on both sides, lest the other side's lawyers demand a revision or add clauses that would be unfavorable to your client.

But, Harvey!

Harvey wants to keep on adding clauses that fuck the other side in the ass. In your opinion, they are bound to notice. The other side has lawyers, too and from a business standpoint - your client shouldn't be in the position to be making demands. They're bankrupt!

Normally, you'd be ranting to your best friend about Harvey at this point, but his stupid revisions are distracting you away from the failed date. It's not like your ugly or stupid but these men are only looking for the same damn thing. When they find out that you're a lawyer, they run with their tails between their legs. Emasculated.

You sighed, reaching for the sweater inside a cabinet and putting it on (you keep a stack of sweaters in one of your office drawers. It has proven to be useful during overtime). You probably look really stupid right now, way to dressed up for a Saturday work.

You are wearing this beautiful Oscar de la Renta dress that you bought from a charity thrift store down in Beverly Hills. It was red - the color of passion and French lipstick. You had a mirror at home and a perfectly good set of eyes. The dress was beautiful, it clung to your features elegantly - which is part of the reason you wore it.

You are wearing a pair of beautiful stud earrings that were once worn by the Sultana of Sarawak. You are wearing the perfect outfit, for Christ's sake. When's it gonna be your turn? When are you going to finally find a man who's able to match your intellect?

Well, surely if a man like that exists - they wouldn't be with you.

"You are aware that your salary is fixed, right? We don't have overtime pay." Harvey opens his mouth, and your eyebrows merge together. This is the first time that this man is talking to you and not at you. "Yes, I don't have anything better to do." You answered in a tone that was harsher than you wanted it to come out.

Harvey didn't seem to mind.

"Alright," he walked past and entered his office without another word.

The sun shone against the glass windows of Pearson Hardman, and suddenly, the room became piping hot. Another sigh escaped your mouth as you pried your fingers away from the keyboard. You place your glasses down on the table, lifting your sweater away.

You drape on the cabinet beside you.

'Finally done with this stupid contract,'

You grab the printed copies from the machine before walking in the direction of Harvey's office. "Harvey?" You called out to him - unsure of how to knock on glass doors. "Come in," he answered.

His attention turns in your direction.

Holy shit, the only words that echoed in Harvey's mind.

You are beautiful.

The light of the sun enters Harvey's office, and it casts a golden glow on your skin. Your beauty is not like anything he has seen before, raw and real - standing before him. Harvey almost flinches from the burn.

"I'm done with drafting the contract," you informed while placing the files on his desk. This had to be the final draft. "Sit down," he breathes while reaching for the file, flicking it open.

Have you ever had that feeling? When you stare at someone's face, you know deep inside your heart that you can trust them, that you prefer them over all the other people that rotate around your orbit. Harvey is aware that this is the first time he's ever looked at you, because he doesn't care about the associates.

Louis gives them enough of a hard time - they don't last that long. Harvey tries not to get attached. Harvey doesn't bother to know their names, but right now, he's trying to recall yours.

Truthfully, this is the first time he's reading the damn contract. Louis sent a memo to all junior partners, it's contract week which means they give the associates a hard time when it comes to contracts. Harvey tries to abstain from the power-tripping but he doesn't want to have another conversation with Louis about how knowledge is power - he honestly didn't care if you minded.

Oh right, he remembers your name!

You studied Economics at Oxford and then Law at Harvard. You had that issue with that news thing where they accused you of being a communist, and you laughed at them on live television, mentioning something along the lines of how can an economist be a communist?

Hmm, that is why your face looks familiar. He's seen you on the screen before. "It looks like you're done with the contract." Harvey places the stack of files in one of his drawers. The contract was due for another week - he can't believe that you had it finished this fast.

Your glare softens, expecting a fight but receiving none. "Oh," you say at lost with words. "You may leave if you want, or you can finish our argument with Singh v. Cohmer." Harvey leans on his chair.

"I'll stay for a while. Goodbye, Harvey." You stood up.

He wants to say goodbye in return, but he doesn't.

He shakes the thought of you away from his head. Harvey Specter does not have time for falling in love - only casual things.

Casual things.

Harvey says in the back of his mind as he traces imaginary lines on your back. That was the best sex of his entire life.

You gently stir awake. "You can sleep in," Harvey whispers.

The scene unfolding in front of you looks painfully domestic. You turned around to look at his face. The sunlight cast a glow on his face that made him look ethereal, tangible, and almost yours. He reaches for your glasses on his nightstand and places them on your face, and suddenly his own face is much clearer.

Suddenly, he's only a man and you're only a woman.

"I should probably leave," you deny his offer before it becomes real. You've heard stories about the women in his life - he's not the type of man who gets in a committed relationship. Loyalty is a two-way street, and if he has to ask it from you - you won't get it from him.

"Breakfast? I can't let you leave on an empty stomach," Harvey says smoothly, his hands still on your body. "Don't worry about me," you smiled while rising from the sheets and fastening your bra on.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you winked while reaching for your discarded heels on the floor.

"Goodbye," Harvey says, watching as you elegantly lift your dress on.

Monday morning. You know how everyone says that having sex with someone feels like a soul bond? You feel like that now.

You spent the entire Sunday evening convincing yourself that the tryst with Harvey was nothing but a caprice, a sudden emotion felt, and that it was never going to happen again - because truthfully, you aren't very close with Harvey.

He's just another one-night stand. Your first one night stand. But, just one boy from the dozens you'll meet in the future.

There is nothing special about him.

There is nothing special with the best closer of New York City. There is nothing special with the smartest man in this office.

There is nothing special with Harvey Specter.

No, fuck it. He is special.

He's one in a million.

"You look different." Rachel was the first to notice the shift in your demeanor. "You look different!" You snapped in surprise.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Did that date of yours finally become a success?" She inquired with an amused look. "Please, he stood me up." You scoffed while entering the printing room. People always say that other people post-sex have this special glow about them...'Do I have that annoying glow?'

"Then, why do you look so bright?" Rachel struggles to find the right words. "Oh, Harvey finally approved the contracts." You breathed a sigh of relief, and she nodded, though not quite satisfied with the answer. "That's amazing, but I wouldn't do a good job if I were you - instead of raising our salaries, they're just gonna raise our tasks." Rachel winks, and you answer with a slight giggle.

Harvey marches over to your cubicle, oblivious to the stares of the associates. It is seldom that Harvey is seen in the lower officers. "You're coming with me." He commands, as he continues walking. You hurriedly reach for your bags and keys before walking after him.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

He presses a button on the elevator. "We're going to be dealing with a high-profile client today. Jessica says that the stakes aren't that big legally, but our reputation relies on whether or not we deliver our client's wants. I figured that it'd be easy enough for you," he glances.

Harvey Specter doesn't like losing.

"What is the case even about?" Your eyebrows merged together as you both walked inside the elevator.

Harvey glares at the associates who try to enter. The door closes, with them staring at the both of you.

"A client is trying to sue Cathay Pacific. They booked business class tickets with their friends, but due to an overload in passengers, they got upgraded to first class." Harvey explains, and your eyebrows merge together. "But, why would they want to sue for being in first class?" You ask.

"Because their friends, the exiled Greek royals, were left in business."

The elevator opens again as it settles on the ground floor. You are left with a confused expression as he exits.

"Tell me everything you know that we can use against them," Harvey says while opening the door for you. "Well, we have to consider the fact that the court may not see the involuntary upgrade of a passenger to a superior class worthy of suing for damages." Your mind traces back to the millions of cases you read in law school.

He reaches for a stack of files in one of the compartments as the car slowly moves. He hands you those said stacked files.

You skimmed through them, looking for anything that might be worthy enough to raise articles upon. "Well, our clients did say that they didn't want to get upgraded, the flight attendant, Mrs. Trevino, spoke in a loud, discourteous voice. We can sue for nominal, moral, exemplary damages as well as the attorney's fees. Cathay is a big airline; we'd want to set a precedence." You continued talking.

Unware of his stare on your face.

"We can't sue them for upgrading our clients to a superior class, but we can sue them for pushing through even after our clients denied their offer." Harvey answers in a simpler term and you nod. "The upgrading was tainted with bad faith." You added, staring deep into his eyes - god he looks so beautiful you might just die.

He's exactly your type - strong, assertive, smart.

You can almost see yourself wrapped in his embrace once more, sitting on his lap and pressing kisses on his neck. But you are not the woman that he wants - there is no woman that he wants. To a man like Harvey Specter, the entire world is an arm's length away, and you are nothing new.

"I feel like I need to warn you. Our clients are infamous for being a couple who loves each other very much. Henry and Teresa Lee." Harvey gave a quick preface. The last time he remembers spending time with those clients and Teresa proceeding to 'offer' her daughter's hand in marriage because life without love is horrible, and Harvey, to her, seems like a good and proper man.

Of course, he denied that offer. He's not a big fan of marriage.

"Oh, the performance artists!" You remember them from the hours you spent back in the English Museum of Arts. "Yep, and you are in luck because they have a son, and they might betroth you to him." Harvey finds himself joking around in your presence.

"Oh, please, how positively medieval." You rolled your eyes.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Lee." You greeted with a cordial smile. To your pleasant surprise, there are thousands of pastries on the coffee table, waiting on the veranda. "Good morning," Harvey says, putting on his poker face. It always surprises you to see Harvey locked in the game. He always wins.

"It's such a pleasure to have the both of you here. I am sure that Atty. Jessica has already briefed you about the case that we are building against Cathay." Henry Lee says while taking a sip of his coffee.

"We were scandalized! The Greek Royal family is known for their simple life. I had to beg them for us to sit in business class, they usually fly economy, and then to my surprise this awfully dressed stewardess just goes ahead and tells me that my Henry and I are supposed to sit in business class. What do they expect! We can't just leave the Greek Royals in nasty business class!" Teresa Lee complains, and she looks severely stressed out.

You can see how they felt offended by the sudden upgrade, but that doesn't take the outrageousness out of the situation.

"Cathay made it seem as if we were better than the Greek Royals! Oh, I had to apologize to them and send them Uncle Alfred's balaklava that his chef made from a kitchen in Surrey. It's a good thing that the Greeks were quite nice, but now I feel as if they won't allow our Daisy May to marry their Alexandros." Teresa continues speaking and you nod along.

"Oh, Daisy May is marrying Prince Alexandros?" Harvey raises an eyebrow as if it's an inside joke that he has with himself. "Mr. Specter, you made it very clear that you didn't want to marry our Daisy May." Teresa replies in a teasing manner, no bad blood between them.

"I'm afraid Daisy May deserved someone better," Harvey replies quickly, still keeping up the charming facade. "You were with their daughter?" You turned to look at him, surprised by your sudden question. 'Fuck, I shouldn't have asked that.'

Teresa Lee was the first to giggle. "Oh no, sweet girl. I wanted Harvey to pursue Daisy May. She was going through her awkward twenties, but worry not because Harvey only loves one woman, and that is you." She giggles and suddenly you turn bright red.

"Oh, I'm not with Harvey. I'm an associate for Pearson Hardman." You were quick to correct with practiced poise. Teresa Lee frowns. "Apologies darling, I was sensing a connection between you two." She apologizes and a smile returns to your face.

Grace under pressure.

"Please forgive my wife; she loves to play matchmaker." Henry antagonized, earning a playful slap from his wife. "But I don't think that we need to discuss more of Cathay Pacific. Teresa is already very traumatized, and I trust you, Harvey." He says with absolute certainty that he has already won the case.

"I don't like losing. I'll make it clear to the Greek royals that it was Cathay's fault and not yours." Harvey said all the words that they wanted to hear. "Thank you, Harvey," Teresa says sweetly. "Now, shall we speak of that match in Wimbledon?" Henry says to Harvey.

"It was horrible, Henry. What has become of the sport?"

Once again, Harvey says what the client wants to hear.

WHEREFORE, the instant petition is hereby GRANTED. The Decision of the Court of Appeals of 8 March 2018 in _____ is hereby MODIFIED, and as modified, the awards for moral damages, attorney's fees, and nominal damages are set to $100,000, $1,000,000, and $20,000, respectively.

SO ORDERED.

Harvey leans on the window-like hole of your cubicle. He looks down on your sleeping form, the light of the computer casting a familiar glow on your face. "You aren't supposed to sleep during company hours." Harvey teases - although all the associates are already gone. Fucking pussies, he thinks to himself.

During his time as an associate, he'd take a bath in Pearson Hardman!

You suddenly snap awake, a panicked look on your face, but it goes away once you see that it is only Harvey. "I'm sorry. It's just been a long day." You reached for your coat on the desk. "Congratulations on your first win. I didn't think you had it inside of you," he jokes.

"It is one esoteric case." You gave him an indulgent smile.

He reaches for a check inside of his pockets, handing it to you.

"Your first bonus, courtesy of Mr. and Mrs. Lee." He informs. "Do you want to celebrate your first victory?" He offers with a hopeful stare. He doesn't know where this thing is going to lead to, but when he is around your presence - suddenly, everything is certain.

"As long as the bill is on you, Mr. Specter." You smile.

"It always is," he rolls his eyes.

Harvey settles on the empty seat in front of you. It almost feels like a date - if it weren't for your corporate attire. "Do I have to deal with cases like that daily? Or are the Lees just one peculiar bunch?" You ask, and he chuckles, reaching for the menu.

"I'd say that I prefer those instead of the normal ones we get. The Lees have a personal reason - they had something to lose. The most annoying types of clients are the ones who have everything but would still kill someone for anything." Harvey continues speaking.

A man who speaks of honor should work for the D.A. Corporate lawyers are not exactly known for their honor.

"- but they all pay us the same." You take a sip of the wine.

"Congratulations, by the way. You treated the case with seriousness, and you bonded well with our clients." Harvey compliments. "- What is it that you want to eat, by the way?" He gently deviates from the topic. "Just some grilled salmon. It's been a while since I've had fish." You say and he mentally notes it.

"Thank you for telling Jessica that I helped you with the case," you thanked him profusely. Delighted to finally be on Jessica's radar, even though your presence in Pearson Hardman will be short-lived.

"You did, so you only have yourself to thank." Harvey remains humble. "- hopefully you'll do your next cases on your own." He adds.

You couldn't find it in yourself to tell him the truth.

That you are leaving Pearson Hardman.

You take a deep breath, pushing that thought away from your head. Allowing the night to push you deeper into conversations with Harvey. It started with conversations about work, to your interests, to you explaining the Illiad, and to him explaining the Roman Empire. Slowly, you were learning each other's wants and likes.

It feels like staring at a mirror.

"My professor made us watch Helen of Troy 2003, and I had to audibly gasp when that scene with Agammemnon came on!" Your eyes widen, surprised at his defense of the movie. "It was climactic. It feels like the final straw from Clytemnestra." He defended.

"- but I never did quite get that movie. I feel like they should have leaned more towards Aphrodite's interference, because the entire time my classmates were screaming, Helen you're married!" You giggled and he laughs in return. He slightly tenses up at the mention of infidelity, but he relaxes before you can notice.

"What I couldn't understand was how Meneleus forgave her." Harvey finds the wine, talking. He can't understand how his mother cheated on his father multiple times - he cannot understand how his father doesn't hate his mother with all of his heart. Humans can be such dynamic figures. "We can't look at their lives through our measures. It was a different time," you shrugged.

A silence befalls the both of you.

"You're the second person who knows, but I'm moving to LA." You tell him, unable to keep it in. This is your last dinner together, and you feel like you must tell him before he hears it from Donna.

"That's great," he pretends not to care, but his eyes betray him. Harvey Specter does not make personal connections. He doesn't care about what other people feel. He sure as hell won't miss you. "Are you sure that you want to leave Pearson Hardman?" He inquires, telling himself that he is only asking as your superior and nothing else.

"Yep, the pay is good, and my dad is giving me the apartment that he owns there. He just needs someone to handle our business while he undergoes surgeries. It's temporary, but at the same time, I don't expect to have anything to return to here." You explained.

Half of your heart hoping that he'd fight for this. But there is no 'this'.

"Have fun in LA." Harvey smiles, masking his sadness with a sip of wine.

Donna sighs, staring at Harvey's slumped figure on the couch.

"She's leaving, Donna. There is nothing that I can do about that." He rolls his eyes. Donna was the first person to find out about Harvey's fancy for you, and she encouraged him to pursue those feelings. Now, as if a god is pulling the both of you apart - you are needed in LA, which isn't good for Harvey.

"You can still visit her, just because she's 40 hours away doesn't mean that she's suddenly unattainable. You still love her, right?" Donna raises an eyebrow.

Harvey wasn't the type of person who'd pursue a woman. He almost immediately gets them after the first night, and then they're desperate to have him as their boyfriend. Harvey has a silver tongue, and somehow, you are strong enough to resist his defenses; at least, that is what Harvey believes.

Donna knows better, though.

Every time she catches you staring at Harvey's figure, she sees love flood your features. The type of love that isn't lustful or needy, but the type of love that cooks for breakfast and makes morning tea. Donna knows that her best friend deserves that kind of love.

He doesn't know it though.

"Love is nothing but a concept," Harvey breathes.

"One day you're going to regret letting her go!" Donna warns while walking out of his office.

He's already beginning to regret it now.

DONNA PAULSEN Do you really have to leave? :( I'm sad to see you go. Harvey too.

YOU That's bs Stop making be believe things!

DONNA PAULSEN I remember you telling me that he was your crush 😂

YOU I was drunk On my #2 margarita :))

DONNA PAULSEN Don't tell him I said this but pretty sure he likes you too

YOU fuck u 😭

DONNA PAULSEN Can you please just tell him that you like him? then watch all the magic unfold

YOU As much as I'd want to date him He's not the kind of guy who'd settle At least not at this point of his life I love him dude 😭

DONNA PAULSEN See!!! You love him CONFESS CONFESS CONFESS

YOU But we both know him If I tell him that I like him now, he's gonna get scared We'll stay friends or whatever 😭 his brother lives in LA I already spoke to his brother btw #GOALS

YOU Also his wife said that I get to be godmother of their baby She's pregnant btw if u didn't know!!

DONNA PAULSEN You are so insufferable Creepy You'd rather be his niece/nephew's godmother than his girlfriend 🤣

YOU Well! If I tell him that I like him now I'll probably stop being his niece's godmother (it's a niece) AND OKAY BEFORE I GET ON THE PLANE I will tell you something I have never told anyone before

DONNA PAULSEN Okay okay I'm hooked TELL ME

YOU We had sex like a year ago? I have only been an associate for a week back then

DONNA PAULSEN OMG!!!! OH MY GOD ACTUALLY LIKE ?? WHAT

YOU It's only a casual thing to him Donna I'm alright with where I'm at right now And even if we do get together he'll get scared trust me It's just not the right time

YOU Bye bye tho I have to board the plane now. 🥰 I will miss you so much

DONNA PAULSEN Byeee! I love you

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

New Member of the Household

Summary: Bucky adopts a cat that rather despises you

After a week long mission, you want nothing more than to cuddle up to your husband and bask in his warm embrace. That singular thought drives you to put one foot in front of the other despite the heavy protest from your muscles, and after what feels like forever, you finally arrive at the front door of your apartment.

Pushing open the door, you quietly set your things down on the nearby table, leaving the unpacking to tomorrow. You have more important things to attend to right now, such as finding your husband so that you can dramatically flop into his arms. Provided he's awake. You've returned later than you said you would, and you wouldn't blame him if he fell asleep while waiting for you.

It's a habit now, for each of you to stay up waiting for the other to come back from a mission. It all started when Bucky quietly confessed that he found it hard to sleep without you with the most sheepish look on his face, so you placed a bunch of blankets on the couch where he would normally sit and wait for you to come back along with a pitcher of water just in case he got thirsty. To ensure he didn't feel embarrassed about needing to wait for you to come back home before he could sleep, you decided to return the favour and now you too wait on the couch for your husband to come home before going to bed.

The house is mostly dark, minusing the low light coming from the lamp next to the couch and you make your way over, smiling when you see your beloved husband fast asleep on said couch, lips slightly parted and soft brown locks messily sprawled all over his makeshift pillow.

There is, however, a new addition to the usual sight — a fluffy white ball atop his chest. The white ball uncurls into a kitten who stares at you with intense light blue eyes, then fangs and claws pop out, accompanied by a hiss that wakes your husband up. Bucky curls around the kitten, muscles tensed until he sees you and then he relaxes, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Welcome back, doll." He smiles, setting the kitten down and stretches out his arms towards you.

"It's good to be back." You hug him tightly, all weariness forgotten the moment you feel his warmth around you. "Who's the new addition?"

The white kitten hisses at you, attempting to swipe at your forearm but you pull away faster, raising an eyebrow. Bucky quickly gives the kitten a bop on its nose, scolding it as if the kitten was a naughty child before turning back to you.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know Alpine would be so hostile towards you, I thought since she was alright with me she'd be alright with you too but it seems like I was wrong." He laughs nervously. "I'm sorry I should have asked you about it first."

His head hangs, pulling away from you and picks the kitten up. It nestles in his arms comfortably, but keeps hissing at you anyways. "I'll…see if I can rehome her or —"

"James." You cut him off. "Her name is Alpine?"

"Yeah, I named her." He cautiously looks up at you, ice blue eyes filled with anxiety and sorrow.

"Where'd you get her?" Said white ball of fluff wriggles in Bucky's strong grip, desperately trying to get to you, presumably so that she can claw your eyes out.

"The animal shelter a couple streets down. The therapist said I should get a pet so I paid the shelter a visit, and she immediately latched onto me. The shelter volunteers all agreed that I should adopt her, since I was the only one she actually liked." He hugs Alpine tighter, poking the kitten on her head but she continues to angrily spit in your direction.

"I see. Maybe she just needs time to get used to me, I do have the blood of a wolf god after all, and cats don't get along with dogs for the most part." You chuckle. "I don't mind keeping her around, the therapist did recommend you to get a pet."

"You…don't? Alpine will —"

"Yeah, I don't mind having a fluffy white ball attempt to maul me at every given opportunity. I'll just maul it right ba — I'm just kidding, I'm just kidding!" You yelp, panic waving your hands upon seeing his expression fall. "I'm sure it'll just take time for Alpine and I to get to know each other. We'll be fine, right Alpine?"

Alpine hisses in response, glowering at you and you sigh. "Come on now, we both want Bucky to be happy, don't we? Cooperate with me please?"

You receive a meow and you take that as a win. It's not a hiss or a spit, so that's progress, and that is all the progress that's needed to reassure Bucky. Your husband loosens his grip on the new house cat and she leaps out out his arms, sending you one last glare before heading out of the room. You growl at the vanishing figure, throwing up a middle finger before being pulled to the couch by a pair of strong arms.

"Really now? Flipping off a kitten?" He pecks you on the cheek, giving you a soft smile.

"She better not steal you from me, I'm already letting her angsty self stay for free in this house despite our 'disagreements'." You huff into his chest, basking in his scent.

"Now I have two fluff balls vying for my attention, what ever am I supposed to do." He ruffles your hair, lips tugging upwards. "I mean it, doll. If Alpine is too much trouble I —"

"I mean it too, handsome. Alpine can stay." You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. "Means I don't have to worry so much about you whenever I go on a mission, considering how protective of you she is. However, she can't steal all your attention away from me, got it?"

"Understood." He presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. "Should we turn in for the night?"

"There's not much night left." You yawn, adrenaline finally wearing off. Your eyes keep trying to close but you fight it, wanting to spend as much time as possible with the one you love. You've missed his handsome face, and you want to tell him about your mission, especially the part where Sam face planted into the dirt because he tripped over a tree root. Sam didn't make you promise not to tell anyone, he only threatened to take all your snacks but you could always buy more with Tony's black card. Or go a week without snacks. A fair trade, in your opinion.

"All the more we should get some rest. I'll take tomorrow off, we can shop for Alpine's stuff together." He scoops you up, carrying you to your shared bedroom. "Oh, you should take a bath first."

"Too tired," you mumble.

"I'll help, don't worry doll. After the bath we can cuddle and sleep for as long as we want, alright?" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You'll have all my attention tomorrow, promise."

"I better have it all tomorrow, no cutting corners." You can't muster the energy to actually sound threatening, and the empty threat only makes Bucky more amused.

"No cutting corners," he reassures you with a smile.

"Mmm…love you."

"Love you too."