#i also remember not loving that the lyrics are different and while i do still prefer the musical's songs (<- bit katherine fan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandomhopped · 28 days

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first love/late spring

pairing: fwb!logan howlett x fem!reader; 2nd person pov

summary: logan and reader have been sleeping together for a while with an unspoken rule to keep it casual, but that goes to hell when logan catches feelings. however, reader is an independent boss bitch and hates men<3

warnings: heavy swearing, hella mentions of sexual situations, substance abuse, brief sexual content(nothing serious fr), creepy guy in a bar, blood, bar fight, mentions of sex trafficking and resulting trauma, daddy issues, fluff, angst asf, lowkey scott slander (i dont mean it i love him)

word count: 9.1k

a/n: reader has light manipulation abilities but theyre not mentioned that often lol, also reader takes a lotta shots at jean just cuz she pisses me off. side note: idk the true meaning of the song i used as the title, there are many different interpretations. i found the song after i had alr written the story and the lyrics resonated pls don’t jump down my throat if it doesn’t align <3

there’s not a millimeter of space between you and logan as he holds you against his body. you’re sleeping soundly, and he watches you breathe all night, not bothering to even think about sleep for himself. the sun came up three hours ago, he felt it on his back.

when you drink, you always wake up early the next morning. you two drank a lot together last night. and like every time you drink with logan, you ended up in his bed.

he tries to block the sun from your face with his body so it won’t wake you up. he knows when you finally do, this little illusion that you're his will all be over. everything you said last night won’t matter. you’ll go back to your room. he’ll stay in bed. you’ll both go back to acting like it never happened.

you always leave him swiftly. you always go downstairs and drink coffee from the same mug and act like nothing happened. without a stutter, it’s a routine.

since he moved into the mansion, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that the female teachers were attractive. and, of course, he was first drawn to jean. he won’t deny that he still harbored some feelings for her when you came to his room all those months ago, but she made it abundantly clear that she loves scott.

then one night, you slipped a bottle of whiskey into the mansion and invited him to join you in drinking it. you said some things that made him sit closer to you. that was just the beginning. he woke up the next morning to an empty bed but distinctly remembers you falling asleep next to him, so he assumed you woke up and left.

logan is a pro at acting like some things never happen, but he wasn’t expecting you to act the same. he dismissed it as a one-off, drunken night.

then it happened again… and again and again, and you continued to act like it never happened.

which, he was fine with. this wouldn’t be the first time he’s had a with-benefits situation, but there’s something different about you. you’re badass. you’re beautiful. he really respects you. you fit him perfectly.

and you’re mean. you don’t smile all that much, really only when you’re drinking is what logan soon found out. you’re not always outright mean to people, it’s usually deserved. you don’t take anybody’s shit. you’ll let people know when they’re in the wrong or they’re pissing you off. you’re sarcastic and rudely witty.

that was just another thing that attracted him to you. but, God, were you the meanest in the mornings, especially when you’re hungover.

unfortunately for logan, he has developed a small, tiny, itty bitty, barely-there crush on you. just catching a scent of your perfume has him rolling his eyes in the back of his head and white-knuckling whatever is directly in front of him.

the thoughts of you under him, on top of him, in front of him, on your knees for him plague his mind all. day. long. then last night, you had him rock solid from just a few drunken words.

“you’ve ruined all men for me,” you said as he kissed down your neck.

“hmm?” he hummed as his hands roamed your body under your shirt.

“nobody could ever fuck me like you do,” you told him, pulling at his hair roughly. he lets out a deep groan at the feeling.

he’s never picked up his pace of getting someone’s clothes off so quickly. he ripped your favorite pair of pj shorts in the process, mumbling that he’ll buy you a new pair.

with him deeply inside you, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other sending you over the edge with his mouth leaving marks all over your chest, you say breathily, “fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

the moment hasn’t left his mind since.

“i’m hot,” you mutter, pushing the sheets from your legs. “you’re hot.”

“oh, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his lips turned up.

“i’m about to have a heat stroke,” you return, squirming around and shoving his arms from around you.

he lets go of you and gives you some space, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. a deep sigh leaves him.

“i’m gonna throw up,” you tell him, groaning and curling up into the fetal position.

“are you serious? don’t puke in my bed,” he says, leaning up to look at you.

you roll your eyes. “no, i’m not serious,” you snap at him.

“‘you wanna take a shower?” he asks, his lip curling up at the thought of you ruining his sheets (and not in the way he usually prefers).

“i feel like shit right now, logan. i don’t want to fuck you in the shower,” you tell him roughly, sitting up and glaring over at him.

he watches you stand up out of his bed and put yout shirt on. “‘s not what i meant,” he grumbles, looking away from her. he throws the sheets off his body and grabs his jeans from the night before.

he runs his hands down his face and then looks up only to see the door closing behind you as you leave him. again.

“whew, late night?” ororo asks you as soon as you walk into the kitchen, changed into some presentable clothes rather than the ripped shorts and oversized tshirt you walked back to your room in.

you ignore the woman as you open the cabinet to grab your mug. the same one you use every morning.

but it’s not there.

“where’s my mug?” you ask, glancing around the kitchen to see it’s not just ororo but also jean and scott there.

“is this yours?” scott asks, holding up the mug in his hand.

your gaze darkens. “yes,” she grits out, tightening her jaw.

“that’s my bad. i didn’t know this was yours,” he says, standing up and walking over to the sink. “i’ll wash it and you can use it.”

you feel your skin crawl as he turns on the hot water. “stop,” you say lowly, walking to him and turning off the water. “you can’t—.” you stop yourself as you breathe heavily. you rip the cup from his hands.

“hey, it’s just a mug,” ororo says to you, “what’s up?”

“it’s not—,” you cut yourself off again and take a deep breath, shaking your head. you turn on the cold water from the sink and carefully wash the mug.

“seriously, what’s going on with you?” jean asks as scott rejoins her side.

you roll your neck. “i’ve been here for years, and you don’t know which one is my mug?” you ask scott, not looking anywhere but your mug until you’re sure it’s clean.

“i never noticed before, ‘sorry,” he says then turns to jean with a shrug.

the light beaming in through the window shines a little brighter as you continue to shake your head, muttering things under your breath that the others can’t make out.

“it really is just a mug,” ororo says carefully, looking over your figure in concern.

“except it’s not,” you retort, attentively drying off the ceramic with a towel. you then pour some coffee into the mug and hold it close to your chest, turning back to the other mutants.

“what—,” jean begins but logan walks into the kitchen just as she starts and she stops herself.

her surveys everyone’s demeanor then looks at you. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks, walking to the cabinet and grabbing whichever cup is closest to his hand when he reaches in. he pours himself some coffee and turns back to them expectantly.

“scott was using my mug,” you tell him, leaning against the counter.

“why?” he asks scott, eyeing the man.

“to drink coffee. why does it matter?” he asks in return, scoffing.

“it’s hers,” logan returns, his stare hardens and he looks at scott like he’s an idiot.

ororo laughs humorlessly. “what does that mean? it’s just a mug,” she asks, looking between you.

you glare at her. “it was my father’s and now it’s mine.”

“the same father that sold you?” jean asks, her face contorting. you shift your weight uncomfortably. “why would you want that?”

“why don’t you just back the fuck off, bitch?” you snap at her, stepping toward her.

“woah, girl, calm down,” ororo intervenes, holding her hand toward you like you’re a wild animal. you scoff. “we get it. it’s special to you. that’s all you had to say.”

you roll your eyes at them. you leave the group and return to your room. logan watches you go then turns back to the others with his eyebrows raised. “did you say sold her?” he asks jean.

“when he found out she was a mutant—,” she begins.

“jean,” ororo interrupts her, shaking her head at the girl.

jean continues, “—her father sold her into a mutant sex trafficking ring,” she reveals, looking only at logan, “that’s where we found her and then brought her here.”

his face contorts, and he looks down into his coffee. “shit,” he comments.

“she doesn’t talk about it to anybody, and, out of respect, we don’t talk about it either,” ororo says pointedly at the telepath.

logan is seething all day over the new information. he hates to think you went through that for God knows how long.

after the incident, logan doesn’t see you for a while. he doesn’t know how. you’re a teacher and you live down the hall from him, yet he still doesn’t even catch a whiff of your perfume.

“logan, meet me in my office,” he hears charles’ voice in his head. he obeys and within a minute, he’s standing before the professor. “you should leave her alone for a bit.”

her brow furrows. “come again?”

charles says your name and logan clenches his jaw. “she’s destructive right now. you should let her be.”

“is she okay?” the wolverine asks, concern growing in his stomach, and it makes him feel sick.

“she’ll be just fine. this happens from time to time,” he tells him, pressing his lips into a thin line. “you know of her circumstances.”

“her circumstances?” logan growls, scowling down at the old man, “you knew what she went through and didn’t think to tell me? you know what’s going on between us and didn’t think maybe i needed to know that? what if she had a breakdown when we were together? i wouldn’t have known what was happening.”

charles’ lips turn down into a small frown. “that’s not my information to tell.”

logan storms off in a huff, muttering under his breath.

that friday, he’s smoking a cigar in his bed, looking out the window at the moon, which is shining rather bright tonight. he hears a few quiet knocks on his door. he opens the door, expecting it to be a student.

“hey,” you say, waving a bottle of jack in his face before pushing past him into the room. “'hope you don’t mind, i got started without you.”

“you always do,” he comments, closing the door, putting out the cigar, and following you to sit on his bed. “listen —.”

“i think i like that vodka more than this. this one makes my mouth taste weird,” you tell him, taking another sip out of the bottle before handing it to him.

he holds it and sighs. “look, we should—.”

“—take our clothes off?” you finish his sentence, smiling darkly at him. “i mean, it’s a little early, but i agree.”

“that’s not what i—.”

“—was going to say?” you guess his words, cutting him off again. “look at us finishing each other’s…” you trail off, looking at him expectantly. he sends you a deadpanned glance. “this is the part where you say ‘sentences.’ i think i’m better at this game than you are.”

he takes a long sip from the bottle before he looks at you. “can you be serious for a second?” he asks.

you scoff and take the bottle from his hands. “i don’t come to you like this to be serious, logan,” you say, putting the whiskey to your lips again.

“why do you come to me at all?” he asks quietly and gruffly.

you take another sip and place the bottle on the floor, scooting closer to him. “because you’re hot,” you say in a sultry voice, putting a hand on his thigh and slowly dragging it up, “and you call me ‘princess’ and ‘darling’,” you continue, reaching for his belt buckle. he doesn’t do anything to stop you, “and your hands.” you push the buckle out the way and unbutton his pants, dragging down the zipper slowly. “and your tongue.” you reach your hand into his pants. “and this.”

he breathes heavily, completely lost in the euphoria that is you.

he forces himself to snap out of him and shakes his head. he pushes your hand away and stands up, taking a few steps away.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him, grabbing the bottle and standing also. “do you need some more?” you ask, holding the drink out for him, confusion written all over your face.

he holds his hands out in front of him as if to deny the offer. “it’s…,” he trails off, pushing a deep breath through his nose.

your shoulders drop along your face. you tilt your head in disbelief. “oh, my fuck. they told you,” you conclude. you turn around and sit back down on the bed. he stays silent, just looking at you. “okay, so what now? you don’t want me anymore ‘cause i’m used up?” you ask, slurring your words a little.

“no,” he denies without hesitation.

your sober personality is back even though you’re still drinking the whiskey like you’ve been in the dry desert for weeks without water.

“then what is it, logan? you don’t wanna do this ‘cause my hair isn’t blood red?” you ask next, raising your brow and looking at him expectantly.

his face contorts. “what’re you talking about?” he asks gruffly.

you chuckle at him. “i’m not a fucking idiot, old man. i know you want jean so bad, but she doesn’t want you so i'm second choice” you say, then you shrug with one shoulder. “i’d’a gone with ororo, to be honest. have you seen her? i’d show her a good time,” you add.

“that’s not what this is,” he tells you, taking a step forward but not within arm's length of you.

“then what is it? just fucking tell me,” you say loudly, the room lights up as the moon shines brighter. “d’you want me to tell you ‘bout how i was a good, little daddy’s girl until i almost blinded my brother when i first got my powers? how about how my dad gave me away like he didn’t love me? d’you want me to cry in your arms about how i was passed around by mean men like a blunt when i was 14? why do you think i can only let you fuck me when i’m drunk?” you ask him sarcastically, but your voice breaks on your last words. you let out an unsteady breath. logan watches you cautiously, unsure of what to do. “is that what you want, logan?! you wanna be the big, strong man here?!” you ask him, crying now as you yell at the man in front of you.

your body slumps forward as you let the tears drop from your eyes, and you grip the bottle in your hands like a lifeline. you feel the bed dip beside you and the bottle pulled from your hands. you move your hands to your face, trying to pull yourself together.

you feel his big arms envelope you and pull you into his chest. that’s when the waterworks really break out.

logan’s never been to best with tears. he hasn’t had to deal with them too much, but his first instinct was to hold you as close as you would let him. he hates to see you like this. in all honesty, he wants to hunt down every man that ever put a finger on you and rip them to shreds. but, for now, he’ll hold you. as long as you would let him.

you wake up with araging headache. you’re hot, burning up, actually. you kick the blankets from your legs and turn over in the arms of the incredibly attractive man in bed next to you. you look at his sleeping face and sigh.

this is the part where you leave, but this time, you just snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep.

logan wakes up later than he usually does after nights like the last one. it’s normally the sound of the door closing wakes him up. but, this time, he sees your cute face smushed against his pec. he doesn’t fight the smile on his face.

you stir quickly after he wakes up. you rub your eyes and look around the room, then to logan. “i’m gonna puke,” you tell him, the remnants of the smile fall from his face. you pull away from him as your face blanches. “seriously,” you add and sit up quickly.

he reaches for the trash can beside his bed and holds it in front of you just in time. he holds your hair back with a look of absolute disgust while you clutch the bin close to your face and your body jerks with each gag.

once you're done, you wipe your mouth with the bottom of your shirt. you groan loudly and stand up from the bed. “i’m gonna take this with me,” you tell him, holding the can in your arms and moving toward the door.

“keep it,” he remarks, his lip curled up.

monday morning rolls around quicker than anybody wants. you walk into the kitchen and grab your mug, pouring coffee and looking around at others in the kitchen.

they’re talking amongst themselves, mentions of grading papers and some stupid answer a kid put as their answer on an assignment.

you just listen and sip your coffee peacefully. that is, until logan walks in. you move from in front of the coffee pot for him to get some. he nods in thanks as he joins your side.

“this coffee is awful,” you comment, pouring it out in the sink next to you. he chuckles at your comment but doesn’t say anything. “scott, did you make the coffee this morning?” you ask him. the three look over to you, almost as if they didn’t see you come in.

“yeah,” he answers.

“don’t do it again,” you tell him, filling the mug with water and leaving the kitchen.

as you watch a group of students take a test, you see logan walk back in his jacket he usually only wears when leaving campus.

“hey,” you call out. all the students look up at you. “keep taking your tests. i’m going to the hallway for a second,” you tell them and move into the hallway. “logan,” you call and he turns around, walking back toward you. “where are you going?”

“to pick up some more cigars,” he answers, gesturing over his shoulder.

“will you pick me up a pack of cigarettes?” you ask him, reaching into your pocket for some money.

his brow furrows. “you smoke?” he asks.

“sometimes, yeah,” you reply, handing him $20.

he shakes his head. “i’ll cover it,” he answers.

“thanks,” you reply, placing a hand on his forearm before returning to your classroom.

he looks down to his arm and blinks. that’s new.

“brad, i know you’re not talking during a test. are you begging for a failing grade?” he hears you say before he turns back toward the front door of the mansion.

logan returns a while later, after the school day is over and the students are training. he finds you in your classroom, grading papers.

“hey,” he greets. you look up at him.

“hey,” you return, eyes dancing all over his body.

“these are for you,” he says, holding out the page of cigarettes.

“right, thanks,” you say and reach for them, your fingers brushing his as you grab them.

“‘you need any help?” he asks, looking at the papers before you.

“do you know anything about math?” you ask him, pursing your lips.

“uh, no,” he answers, shaking his head. “don’t you have an answer key or something?”

“i have to check their work to make sure they didn’t just get the answer from the person beside them,” you reply, looking back down to the papers. “some of these kids are dumbasses.”

he chuckles. “no kid wants to do math,” he comments.

“how would you know? weren’t you born before there were schools?” you ask him without looking up. there’s a beat of silence before you eventually glance up at him. “was that insensitive?” you ask instead.

he just shrugs. “i’m not that old,” he says, sitting in the desk in front of yours.

“sure,” you respond and go back to grading.

the two of you sit in without a word as you grade, and he watches you in complete admiration. after a while, he stands up and walks toward the door.

“you’re leaving?” you question.

“‘didn’t think you wanted your room smelling like cigars,” he replies.

“i’ll join you,” you say, grabbing the pack he bought you and putting the tests in a drawer. he doesn’t object and you two walk outside, to a bench in the gardens, away from the students.

the two of you sit in silence as you inhale smoke and slowly release it from your lungs.

“i’ve never seen you smoke before,” he comments after a while.

“i only smoke when i give up drinking, i only drink when i give up smoking,” you answer, tossing the burnt cigarette onto the ground and stepping on it, then picking another one from the pack.

you pick up your lighter and flick it a few times but it won’t light. you put your head and lighter inside your shirt to block the wind, trying again and failing again.

“motherfucker,” you mutter as you try to cover the lighter.

“here,” he offers his lighter with the fire shining brightly above it. with the cigarette between your lips, lean toward the lighter, looking up into his eyes as you do. he meets your eyes and clears his throat, closing the flame into the top of the lighter and shifting his eyes to the cigar between his fingers. you let a small smile rest on your face afterward.

“so you’re not drinking anymore?” he asks you.

“figured i should go on a sobriety cleanse for a bit,” you reply, “‘t’s probably for the best.”

“probably,” he adds and silence takes over again.

he glances over at her for a second and he sees you bite at the skin of your bottom lip the way you always do when you’re thinking, contemplating. he’s tempted to ask what’s on your mind but before he can break the silence, you let out a hard sigh.

“i don’t apologize for things,” you begin and pause, biting at your lip again.

“okay…?”

“i don’t apologize for my actions or words because i stand by every decision i make,” you continue and pause again. he’s looking at you and you’re looking directly ahead of you. “i’m not good at apologizing,” you sigh again, “but i’m…sorry for some of the things i said the other night. there’s no excuse. i apologize. take that how you will.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he replies.

you huff. “so i just said all that for nothing? you could at least accept the damn apology,” she snaps at him then rubs the crease between her eyebrows out.

“you called me an old man. i don’t know if i want to accept your apology,” he teases with a crooked smile. you send him a look that turns into a hint of a smile before turning your head away.

“i need to get back to grading those tests. i’ll see you later, logan.” you stomp out another cigarette and stand up from the bench.

“see ya, sweetheart,” he says lowly but you still hear it.

as you look over tests, ororo enters your classroom. “ooh, what’s got you all smiley?” she asks as she strolls in.

the previous smile you didn’t even realize you were wearing falls when you look up at the mutant. “huh?”

“don’t try to deny it. i saw that smile,” she says teasingly. you just roll your eyes lightheartedly. ororo’s brow furrows as she sniffs the air. “are you smoking again?”

“yeah, i quit drinking,” you answer, “what’s up?”

“i was coming in here to ask you if you wanted to go out with the rest of us friday night. we’re planning on going that bar we always go to,” she says, “but if you’re not drinking, i don’t wanna make you go.”

“yeah, no. that’s okay,” you decline the offer.

“alright, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us. sober or not,” she adds before leaving out.

the week drags on painfully slow. it’s a week of tests and starting new units in all your classes and you really just want to bang your head against a wall and tell the kids class is canceled.

by the end of it, you actually do want to join your colleagues in going out to that bar in town that they love so much. you offer to be the designated driver, not trusting anyone but yourself to drive you anywhere.

“are you going with us to the bar?” you ask logan as he rummages around the cabinets for something to eat.

“no,” he answers, opening the fridge, “are you?”

“yeah, i’m driving,” you tell him. there’s a beat of silence before you add, “you should come.”

he turns toward you at your words with a crooked smile. “oh yeah?” he questions, “why? ‘you want me there?”

you scoff with no heat behind it. “i was just trying to be nice,” you say.

“you? nice?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“what? you don’t think i’m nice?” you ask him defensively, crossing your arms.

“no,” he replies, not skipping a beat.

“i’m very nice,” you counter.

“no, you’re not,” he denies again, also crossing his arms.

in his white beater, crossing his arms makes his arms flex and you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the veins of his biceps.

“you have nice hair. there, nice,” you compliment, then add right after, “you’re not balding or anything, which is quite common for men your age.”

“you’re not good at this,” he tells you, looking at your plate to see what you're eating.

“do you want some?” you ask him. you hold your plate across the counter for him to pick off of. he grabs one of your chips and eats it.

“thanks,” he mutters.

“look at me being nice,” you comment and he chuckles deeply.

“shut up,” he returns playfully.

the five of you go to the bar that night, logan joining at your request. he sits at the bar, ordering drink after drink and scanning the bar every so often to make sure you’re alright.

you spend most of your time at ororo’s side. before long, you’re accompanied by a couple of men. you and ororo share side-eyes as they continue to tell stupid jokes. ororo excuses the both of you to go to the bathroom only to move next to logan at the bar.

“having fun?” he asks sarcastically, looking at you then glancing to ororo.

“they could’ve at least been funny, but they weren’t. there terribly unfunny,” you tell him, sitting next to him on a barstool and ororo laughs.

“yeah, that was awful,” she comments and sips her drink. “oh, i see jean and scott. i’ll be back later.” she leaves the two of you. you order a club soda and turn to logan, who is hunched over his drink.

“you have really bad posture,” you tell him as the bartender hands you your drink. he just shrugs and refills his glass with the bottle the bartender left in front of him. you dig your finger into his spine and he straightens up, looking at you wildly.

“why?” is all he asks.

“it’ll help you look more presentable. you’re not looking for anybody tonight?” you ask and glance around the bar for women.

“no, i’m not,” he answers and slumps back down. you dig your finger into his back again and he looks down at you. “stop,” he says seriously.

“oh, what’re you gonna do? stab me?” she asks him challengingly. he looks back down to his drink and shakes his head dismissively. “oh, come on. you’re good-looking, you’re good in bed, you’ve got this hot, animalistic thing going on. why not look for somebody?”

“‘cause i don’t want anybody,” he answers. “did you say i’m good in bed?”

“well, yeah,” you confirm with a one-shouldered shrug.

he stares at you for a beat. this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned it before. you don’t talk about the things you two have done. ever.

“i would know,” you add after he stays quiet.

“you would know what?” ororo asks as she rejoins you, along with scott and jean. they all stand directly behind the man, looking at you expectantly. logan’s waiting for you to make up a lie.

“that logan’s good in bed,” you answer, gesturing to the man next to you. his eyebrows raise and he looks directly in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips as he drinks down all of what’s left in his glass and refills it again. you surprise him more and more every day.

“he’s what?” ororo questions, shock written all over her.

you roll your eyes. “you don’t have to do the clueless bit. jean reads minds and i know she’s told you two,” you state, pointing between ororo and scott.

“what? i haven’t—i didn’t—,” jean stutters over her words, laughing through them.

“liar,” you clock it in a high-pitched tone, sipping your drink. “i’ve heard you talk about it before. i’m just surprised you haven’t mentioned it yet.”

the three of them exchange glances. “okay, yeah, we knew. we thought you would deny it anyway so we didn’t bring it up,” ororo admits.

logan stays silent, drinking like he’s been thirsting for days. why are you doing this? “so…you two are…,” scott trails off. you shrug as your answer. “hmm.”

“hey, sweetheart, you never came back,” the guy from early comes up behind you and wraps an around your shoulders. you tense up at the feeling.

you remove his hand from you. “don’t touch me, and don’t call me sweetheart,” you tell him. he laughs and looks at your colleagues.

“why not? looks like everybody’s got a matchup here but you. let me help you fix that,” he says and runs the knuckles of his finger across your collarbone. he points at scott and jean, then logan and ororo. “i can make you feel good,” he whispers in your ear.

“seriously, don’t touch me,” you tell him firmly, pushing his hand off your shoulder and shifting your seat away from him.

logan doesn’t watch the encounter but he’s squeezing the glass in his hand so hard it’s about to shatter. he feels the red-hot rage crawl up his neck as he does every time he encounters some asshole in a bar.

“don’t be like that, sweetheart,” the man continues and reaches for the strap over your shoulder. chills cover your arms and legs and a shiver runs down your spine. you grab his hand roughly and shove it away from you.

“touch me again and i’m gonna break your fucking nose,” you tell him.

“ooh, i got a feisty one,” he comments to the rest of your group, laughing. “i like that.”

scott takes a step forward. “you need to lay off, man,” he tells him, trying to keep this civil and contained.

the man only laughs harder. “what are you gonna do, glasses?” he asks him and slings his arm over your shoulders. “come on, baby, let’s get out of here. i got a real nice spot for you in my bed.”

“she already told you not to touch her, bub,” logan chimes in, still looking straight ahead and not sparing the boy a glance. there’s a tightness in his shoulders as he uses all his self control to stay in his seat.

“woah, tell your bodyguards to stand down,” he says to you but your only response is to rear back and deck him directly in the nose.

he stumbles back, holding his nose as blood drips into his hand. “you dumb bitch—,” he lunges toward you but logan whips around and grabs him by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against a wall.

“what’d you say?” the mutant asks him lowly, a growl deep in his throat.

“hey, take it outside!” the bartender yells at the man.

“why don’t we do that? you wanna take it outside?” logan asks the scared man in his grasp, shoving him harder into the wall.

“logan, let’s go,” ororo tells him as she walks with you toward the door. he doesn’t move. “logan!”

he drops his hold on the man and turns his back to him. he doesn’t even take a step before the dumbass says, “yeah, listen to your bitch.”

logan turns back around and absolutely socks him in the jaw. the man falls to the ground. logan walks after his friends, rolling his shoulders.

when logan gets out to the car, he sees you in the driver's seat, holding your hand closely to his body. he sits in the passenger seat and looks at you.

“are you okay?” he asks you carefully.

“did you kill him?” you ask him flatly without meeting his gaze, and he shakes his head. “you should’ve,” you say coldly and start the engine, driving out of the parking lot and back to the mansion as quickly as possible.

when you arrive, logan accompanies you to the lab for jean to look at your hand. he wasn’t going to say anything but watching you cradle your hand makes him change his mind. “are you alright?” he asks you.

“fine,” you reply sharply, clenching your jaw tightly. he watches you bite at your lip.

“speak your mind,” he tells you, just outside the hidden elevator. you just shake your head at him. “if you don’t, you’ll take it out on jean.”

“why can’t i just do that?” you ask lowly.

“‘cause she doesn’t deserve it,” he reasons.

you take a deep, frustrated breath. “what happened tonight was stupid,” you say, “dumb fucking men thinking they can get whatever they want whenever they want. now my hand might be broken because i couldn’t—,” you cut yourself off and take another deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m done talking about this,” you say and open the door to the hidden elevator.

he blocks your path. “no, you’re not,” he says and waits for you to continue. that’s when the dam really breaks and you last out at him.

“it’s stupid. all of this is fucking stupid. i could’ve handled myself back there. i didn’t need you to step up and be my big, strong savior,” you tell him angrily, voice rising.

“i know,” he returns.

you’re shouting now, “then why couldn’t you just let me do it? i could’ve stopped him. i’m stronger now. i know how to fight now. i don’t need anybody to save me. i can save myself. i don’t need you. i don’t need any of you.” your voice cracks as the anger starts to shift into the feelings you hate to feel. “i’m not gonna let anyone take advantage of me ever again. and i’ll break every bone in my body before i let some drunk narcissistic man ever put his hands on me again,” you say your peace and breathe heavily and unsteadily.

there’s a long pause, the weight of your words hanging between you. logan doesn’t interrupt, giving you the floor to get it all out.

“i know,” he repeats himself deeply, “but you shouldn't have to.”

you feel that familiar ache in the back of your throat as tears threaten to spill out. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, pushing all the emotions back down. “my hand really hurts,” you tell him quietly, not trusting your voice. he puts his hand gently on your back and leads you into the elevator then into the lab.

by the time you’re in front of jean, you’ve pulled yourself together and let her examine your hand. you did break your hand. she wraps it up for you and sends you to your room with some pain meds.

logan doesn’t leave your side until you’re at your bedroom door. “i don’t want you to come inside,” you tell him quietly. he stays silent. “it’s just that you’ve never seen my room before and this is mostly where i use my abilities and it’s messy right now and—.”

“‘t’s fine,” he interrupts your rambling. “i don’t have to come inside.”

“right,” you mumble, hand gripping the doorknob. “good night.”

“‘night.” he doesn’t make his way to his room until you slip into yours, locking the door behind you.

the next mid-morning, logan walks into the kitchen to see jean scolding you like a child. he’s surprised you’re just sitting there and taking it without a word.

“i’m serious,” jean says, finishing her tongue lashing.

“i know,” you mumble before jean offers logan a soft ‘good morning’ as she leaves.

“what was that about?” he asks you, moving over to the table where you sit with paper spread in front of you.

“i need to grade these papers but my hand is broken and dr grey told me it would only cause more damage,” you explain, sighing heavily and holding the pen in your healthy hand.

“let me help,” he says, snatching the pen from your fingers and the paper from in front of you. the numbers on the sheet are all greek to him. he doesn’t know what the hell he’s looking at.

“you can’t,” you tell him, pulling the paper from his hands. “you don’t know how to do it.”

“then tell me,” he offers, moving his chair next to yours. “tell me what’s wrong and i’ll write it down.”

you shake your head a few times before giving in. “fine,” you cave and look over the student’s work. you place the page in front of the man and point a certain part of a problem. “okay, so he should’ve foil’d here but he didn’t so the rest of the work is wrong. put a line through it and write ‘foil’,” you instruct him and he follows your orders.

“like that?” he asks, showing you. you nod in approval.

“your handwriting actually isn’t that bad. i was expecting a lot worse,” you comment, leaning into him as you look over the next problem. “that one’s right, so put a check,” you tell him and he follows.

the process continues on. every time there’s a gap of silence as you examine the math that he would never even try to understand, he watches you in complete admiration. there are practically hearts in his eyes while the gears turn in your brain.

as the next few days progress, you and logan spend more time together than you ever have. whether he’s in your classroom during your free period or you watch whatever movie’s on tv together on the couch, if someone’s looking for logan, you’re right beside him and vice versa.

of course, the others have taken notice of it. it’s new and after you confirmed you had been sleeping together, they draw their own conclusions about the two of you.

“‘y’know what i would like to see?” you prompt logan as you watch a show with a lumberjack in it.

“what’s that, darlin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“you chop wood,” you tell him, looking up at him from your spot under his arm.

“chop wood?” he questions.

“yeah, like, axe, wood, outside, shirtless, sweaty, and muscly, chopping wood,” you tell him, “lumberjack style.”

“lumberj—.”

“with the cigar,” you add excitedly, cutting him off. “maybe add in a little dehydration too.”

“i think you’re drooling a little bit,” he tells you, pointing at your mouth as a lazy smile rests on his face.

“probably, that’s hot,” you tell him, looking back at the screen.

as the credits roll, logan looks down to see you sound asleep with your head resting on his chest. he carefully picks you up in his arms and carries you to your room.

he opens the door and pauses his movements, eyes dancing across your room. there are no personal touches on the walls or shelves. it looks exactly like his did when he first got to the mansion. well, except for one obvious difference.

your room looks completely dilapidated, like an abandoned home that the sun and time have destroyed. the dark color of the wooden floors and furniture has faded, every surface dry and brittle. in some parts, mostly near the window, the wood is completely bleached of its color.

he lays you in your bed and covers you up, taking in the room once more before he leaves.

“why don’t you have another name like everyone else?” he asks as you sit next to him on the bench where you now regularly take your smoke breaks on.

“like a last name? i do have one,” you answer, flicking the butt of your cigarette onto the pavement.

“scott has cyclops, marie’s got rogue,” he elaborates, glancing over at you. you’re sitting right beside him, his arm thrown over the back of the bench in a way that your head rests on it.

“i don’t know. i guess i never understood why i have to change my name just because i’m a mutant. i am who i am, human or mutant,” you answer, messing with a loose thread on your pants. “plus, seeing the way you made fun of the others when you first got here for their names—i’d never even try to think of one now,” you tell him, making him chuckle. you smile proudly at making him laugh. “you looked so cute when you first got here.”

“are you saying i’m not cute anymore?” he asks in mock offense, looking at you sideways.

“i mean, when i first saw you, you had that big jacket on and you were so clueless. a little less muscle too,” you recount, poking his toned stomach to which he curls to the side. your jaw drops. “are you ticklish?” you ask him, a smile growing on your face.

“no,” he replies sharply and gruffly, straightening his posture.

“oh, my fuck. you so are ticklish,” you accuse and dig your fingers into his ribs, attempting to tickle him.

a deep laugh leaves him, and he grabs your hand in his, his facial expression dropping quickly. “stop,” he tells you in warning. you just laugh in his face, reaching toward him with your other hand, cigarette still between your fingers. he grabs your other hand before you touch him, cigar between his fingers. “no,” he denies you.

you look toward the mansion and see the sun reflecting off a window. you bend the light so it’s shining directly in his eyes, almost burning them. he shuts his eyes tightly and brings one of his hands up to his face. as quickly as you can, you reach back into his side.

he quickly stands up and looks down at you. “enough,” he says and points a finger in your face.

you stand up also, but you’re shorter than him so he’s still looking down at you. you decide to stand on the bench, now a little taller than he is. you don’t say anything, just look down on him with a straight face.

logan can’t help the smile that breaks his scowl. “you’re an idiot,” he tells you, raising his eyebrows at you.

you mimic his gesture then flick the cigarette butt onto the ground. “you are cute, wolvie,” you say and ruffle his hair. “i get the whole towering over people know. this is a power trip for sure,” you comment.

“oh, really?” he questions and puts the cigar between his lips. he grabs you around your waist and throws you over his shoulder like you’re as light as a feather.

you let out a surprised squeal as he walks away from your bench with you in his hold. “put me down. bad boy, bad dog,” you chastise him hitting his lower back. he doesn’t listen so you just hang over his shoulder as he drags you into the mansion.

you grab his ass abruptly and he stops in his tracks. he places you on the floor and tilts his head as he looks into your eyes, taking the cigar from his mouth. “‘bad dog’?”

“yeah, wolverine,” you say, gesturing to him.

“a wolverine’s not a dog,” he tells you, smiling down at you.

your brow furrows. “yeah, it’s like a small wolf, right?” you wonder and feel like an idiot when he laughs at you.

“no,” he answers, shaking his head.

“liar,” you accuse.

he tells you, “go to the zoo. there’s some there.”

you look up at him in disbelief. “you’re fucking with me,” she states and he shakes his head in complete amusement. “if you’re lying to me, i’ll—.”

“what? try to blind me again?” he asks, cutting you off.

“maybe i will,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

he pauses for a moment, considering. “maybe i want you to,” he says and his tone drops, like, two octaves when he says it.

you’re suddenly aware of how close the two of you are, how his hands gripped your waist just a moment before, how effortlessly he carried you. the playful atmosphere shifts and you feel heat creep up your neck and across your cheeks. you don’t blush, especially not around him.

“logan,” is all you say softly. he notices the change in tone. he notices everything about you, every detail, every flaw, every perfection.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the air between you is charged. your eyes travel all over his face. he really is such an attractive guy. and when you peel back the tough guy layer, he’s a sweetheart.

“thanks for the ride,” you say lightly, trying to break the tension.

he nods, gaze still locked on you. “anytime,” he remarks, his voice rougher than it was a moment before.

you both stand there for a few more seconds, not really sure where to go from here. his eyes shift from yours to your lip as you chew on it. his jaw tightens and he looks away from you, taking a step back to give you some space.

your heart pounds against your chest unfamiliarly. everything about this feels so new to you.

“see you around, pup,” you say, your voice back to its teasing tone.

“yeah,” he adds, watching as you turn away and walk back toward the mansion.

more days pass and you spend more time with logan. he notices that you make fun of him more, teasing him for small stuff.

it’s only when he’s in the laundry room that ororo catches him alone. “hey, logan,” she greets. he mumbles something of the same. “so…you look pretty cozy with a certain mutant.”

“huh?”

“you know what i’m talking about,” she says, leaning against a washing machine.

“it’s nothing,” he tells her, starting the machine he threw his clothes into haphazardly.

“‘doesn’t look like nothing,” she returns.

“leave it alone,” he grumbles, turning to leave the room.

ororo steps in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. “please, don’t hurt her, logan,” she requests.

“she doesn’t want me the way you think,” he tells her.

“you can’t seriously believe that,” she says, looking back and forth between his eyes.

at that very moment, you turn the corner and your eyes widen. you ignore the sting in your chest as you let out a loud “woah.” ororo quickly turns around and takes a step away from logan. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you tell them with your hands up in surrender, but that was exactly your intention when you spoke up.

“you weren’t interrupting anything,” logan tells you, watching you move past him to grab a laundry basket.

“i’m not judging,” you reply, walking back to the door. you turn back last second and look at ororo. “hey, if he asks you to wear a red wig, say no,” you tell her with a wink before leaving.

“i never—,” logan cuts himself off, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “i never did that,” he says to her.

“God, i hope not. what the hell,” she remarks, shoving his arm. “she was jealous. you need to go tell her nothing happened.” he sighs deeply and takes a step forward. “‘you really still think she doesn’t want you?”

he doesn’t reply and follows after you. you’re walking as quickly as you can up the stairs when he catches up to you. “hey,” he calls after you.

“don’t worry, buddy. secret’s safe with me,” you tell him, picking up your pace as you reach the top of the stairs but he keeps in step with you.

“there’s not a secret. we were just talking,” he says.

you place a hand on your bedroom doorknob. “really, you don’t have to defend yourself to me,” you say and open your door, slipping inside. before you can shut it, logan stops the door with his hand. you look at him through the crack in the door, pushing your lips into a thin line. “uhm…”

“there’s nothing going on between me and storm,” he tells you.

“i’m not gonna tell anybody,” you return, frustration rising in your tone. you push against the door but your strength is in no way comparable to his.

“i’m serious,” he tries again, almost pleading. “i don’t want her, i want—.”

“jean? look at that, finishing each other’s sentences again,” you cut him off with a false laugh.

“come on, darlin‘,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

you groan. “i just thought—,” you stop yourself, sighing. “it doesn’t matter what i thought.”

“it does matter,” he tells you, pushing the door a little wider. you move into the space between the doorway and the door, trying to block his view into the room. “tell me,” he encourages, getting closer to you.

“i thought you weren’t a whore,” you retort, giving him a hardened look.

“that’s not what you were gonna say,” he states lowly, looking deeply into your eyes. “what was it?” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the skin. he reaches his hand to your jaw, his thumb pulling the lip from between your teeth. “don’t do that. you know it drives me crazy.”

“i thought maybe you wanted me for more than sex,” you admit, feeling embarrassed as the words slip out. you clench your jaw, preparing for the rejection. a smirk slide onto his face and you drop your head. “okay, bye.”

you move back and push against the door again, but this time he pushes the door all the way open. your eyes widen as he takes a long stride toward you and pulls you back to him by the back of your neck. he presses his lips against yours feverishly to which you obviously reciprocate.

he pulls away and rests his forehead against yourself, breathing heavily. “i want you in every way possible, sweetheart,” he says.

you swallow thickly, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “you don’t want me,” you tell him. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into him, your chest pushing against his.

“i do,” he counters.

“you don’t,” you respond.

there’s a beat of silence. “i do,” he says again. you just look up into his eyes. “i want you. i’m not the best person for you, i know that. i’m older and unhappy and i probably can’t be there for you emotionally,” he lists then shakes his head at you, looking at you like you make the world go round. “but i want you, i want every part of you—the good, the bad, the hot and sexy, and the rude and snappy. everything.”

you’re quiet. you don’t know what to say, what is there to even say? in your head, he’s always wanted jean and you were just a place filler. you’ve been under the impression that you caught feelings and he didn’t reciprocate them at all. maybe you’re wrong just this once.

“i want you too,” you tell him in a whisper. he watches your brow furrow as you look away from his eyes. his face falls. “but—.”

“no ‘but.’ don’t say ‘but’,” he begs, loosening his grip on your waist.

“logan, i can live with you not being there for me emotionally, but i don’t know if you can live with me not being for you sexually,” you tell him. dread takes over your body. this beautiful, morally grey, perfect-for-you man is in the palm of your hand and you’re letting him slip through your fingers.

her visible confusion deepens. “you’ve been perfect for the past few months,” he tells you, misinterpreting your words as insecurity.

you shake your head. “i meant it when i said i can’t fuck you sober,” you tell him slowly, avoiding his gaze completely. you feel his hands move from his loosened grip to a hover over your hips. you can’t read his mind like you usually can. logan wears his thoughts on his face, perfectly readable when he’s mad or happy or just his normal grumpy. but now, it’s like trying to read a book in a language you didn’t know existed. “i’m sorry,” you add when his silence becomes too much.

“i don’t care,” he tells you as soon as you finish the last syllable.

“you know i don’t apologize for shit and you don’t care that i’m sorry?” you ask him. you go to push him off again but he pulls you back in, this time wrapping his around your neck, smothering your face in his burly chest.

“i don’t care about sex,” he tells you as he rests his head atop yours. you return the embrace and hold him around his ribs. “i don’t care if you never touch me again. i love you.” your eyes widen and he feels your body tense up. he chuckles, pulling away and smiling at you. “too soon?”

“a little,” you tell him, nodding. you then smile back at him.

———

a/n: i haven’t written in a long time . pls don’t rip me up if u hate this🙏

450 notes · View notes

layuhsblog · 5 months

Note

Hi, I'm not sure if ur still open to requests (I'm so sorry if ur not >_<) but could u do some princess treatment with nct dream bcz I've genuinely just thought of them spoiling their gfs🫶🏻

NCT DREAM GIVING THEIR S/O PRINCESS TREATMENT

its not too princessy and more domestic and 'nct dream as boyfriends'

reqs are still open, ask away babies

idk how to write diff stuff for diff members but i tried and i hope you like it. definitely very fluffy tho. and YEP THEY'RE DEF THE SPOILING THEIR GFS TYPE

warnings: very fluffy, suggestive at some places, very crack, a bit imagine based as well, i think i swore once? i dont remember, some members are too short I'm sorry i was having writers block also ITS LONG.

also cus its so long its unedited.

members drabbles under the cut

Mark:

• I feel like if you're dating Mark, your house will never be quiet, whether its with his chaotic unhinged questions, his jokes, him singing or producing songs or just his playlists playing in the background. especially if you're the type to always need some kind of background noise while doing chores- he'll make you like a thousand playlists for every mood, every chore etc.

He'll even make you a personal playlist with secret songs only meant for you to listen, even if the lyrics are highly unhinged like;

"Yoyo my girls cookin, and she's hella goodlookin yoyo" just for you to laugh at his silly antics even when hes away for too long.

• I dont see him as someone who'll get you flowers cus I feel like he will get sad when they die. He'll stay up at night when youre asleep finding origami videos to make you paper flower bouquets. Each date a different type of flower. Even goes out of his way and googles what flower signifies what feeling, literally befriends a flower shop owner.

• He once called them at 4am to ask what flower means "I'm sorry, I messed up. Please don't break up with me." The phone hung up on his face ofc. Your argument was about mint chocolate and pineapples on pizza. You obviously wouldn't break up with him for that. (He hopes)

•You definitely have a specific closet filled w those paper flowers. He has never given you a handmade bouquet of your favourite flowers cus he plans on doing so when he proposes to you, hiding the ring at the bottom of the bouquet. AHH IM SOFT

•Personal Spotify, he'll sing you to sleep whenever you tell him to, whatever you tell him to.

•You once had an argument with him in public and he asked you how he can make you forgive him so you made him sing 'Welcome to Miami' infront on random strangers

•OH I FEEL LIKE. If you're on a picnic. He would take help from his members (the 127 hyungs. Dreamies are hopeless I'm sorry) and make you both a bento. Imagine your surprise when you opened the picnic basket and saw two lunchboxes one was spiderman and the other was hello kitty.

"Mark, this is so cute. But yknow I like spiderman too right?"

"WAIT WHAT DUDE, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME. YOUR FAVOURITE MOVIE? YOUR FAVOURITE SPIDERMAN? OPINION ON NO WAY HOME."

I've said this before and I'll say it again, Mark's the type of boyfriend to snatch a jar from you, tell you he got it and fail miserably. Most of the time when you DO have a problem opening a jar and you go to him..he gulps nervously.

"I, have to go to the bathroom. Be right back."

"Mark- ...you took the jar with you.."

You know where this is going.

"JOHNNY HYUNG, QUICK LOOSEN THIS JAR SO I CAN IMPRESS ____"

"LOOK BABE, I'M SO STRONG."

"Baby, I know you asked Johnny to help. But thankyou! Yes you're very strong."

To sum it up, being with Mark is dorky and comforting and you love that man with all your heart.

Renjun:

•I see Renjun as the type to do princess treatment stuff with you together.

•Like Idk how to explain it- you both spoil eachother. Your nighttime skincare takes you both HOURS because instead of doing like sane people, you do it on EACHOTHER, explaining every step of your routine to the camera (the mirror) in a fake accent.

•If he sees you painting your nails, he gets offended because he's your personal nail tech.

I definitely see him as the type to tell you,

"Gurl, that watermarble is a disaster. Let me do it for you." and he does a better job than you.

"Silly girl, this is why you should always let me do your nails. Don't even bother."

•He's adorable, if its your birthday or you achieved smtn big at a job or at uni he would celebrate it with you. Decorate your room with pink balloons and stuff, get you a tiara and a sash- like a true princess, get you a pretty dress to wear. Click your pics and share it on his close friends story.

You love it. You saved that same tiara for his birthdays and achievements and crowned him your princess. CUTIES

•Allows you to do his makeup while you're sitting on his lap on one condition, you don't click pics.

Once he grows into it though-

"Hey! Blend that foundation properly, my neck and my face are two different shades."

You show your puppy eyes to him he's cracking. Lets you take as many pics as you want, doesn't say shit when you post it. He's soft for you.

•I dont see him as a very verbally expressive partner, he'll show you through his actions, like the one time a family member of yours was very sick and admitted in the hospital while he was on tour.

•You were continuously crying on call and it was late where he was. He knew you had trouble sleeping for a few days as you were staying at the hospital with them. He flew in to surprise you and had a mini date in the hospital cafeteria. He made sure you ate and you both took a walk around the building after dinner as he comforted you and gave you advice on how to deal with everything going on.

He stayed in the room, looking after your family member as you showered and slept soundly after forever. You felt bad as he was jetlagged and tired but he scolded you and forced you to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of the door opening and the nurse greeting your relative the next morning. There was a note propped up on the couch you had slept in,

'Had to fly back baby :( Call me anytime and I'll be there. My girl comes first always, I love you<3'

•Oh your family loves him btw, he had also got a get well soon card and a bouquet for your relative.

You were gonna marry this man, you were sure of it.

•Overall he scolds you when you don't take care of yourself and always puts your needs first before his and trusts you fully to do the same when he needs it, and you will<3

Jeno:

•This is so random, but I really see Jeno as the type of boyfriend who bakes for you?

•its just a you and him thing. When you started dating, you were at his dorm and got hungry and night. So he decided to make you a mugcake? It tasted like rubber but you ate it anyway ans reassured him that it was really good. (It wasn't)

HE WAS DETERMINED TO ACTUALLY LEARN HOW TO BAKE FOR YOU.

•Y'all know that guy on tiktok who bakes for his gf?? THAT'S HIS INSPIRATION RIGHT THERE.

•Experiments each recipe on Jaemin before making you try it. Why do you think Jaemin hates strawberries? Its HIS fault.

•Yknow how...Jeno is so buff and sexy?? His favourite part of going to the gym is sending you post workout bathroom mirror selfies. (YES THAT IS SPOILING. SHUSH)

•He also definitely seems like the type to call you princess. If you hate that nickname? He doesn't care he'll call you anyway cus you ARE his princess. You eventually grow into it.

•Definitely the type to wake up no matter how late it is if you need anything. You're hungry? He's up and running ready to cook, go to the convience store or order food for you. Anything his princess wants. You got your periods? You think he already doesn't have your necessities stacked in the dorm bathroom already? Pads, tampons, everything- even if you're on cups, he'll always keep them ready for emergency purposes and incase the other dreamies have their girls over and they need it. Your bf is a gentleman yes. You love it.

•PASSENGER PRINCESS PRIVILEGE. You'll always be connected to the Bluetooth. You never have to drive ever in your life again. His favourite part of driving is you screaming out the lyrics of ur new favourite songs.

He will never tell you how tired he is of listening to the same song over and over and over again. Even if his ears feel like bleeding from listening to the same song again, he'll hold back his tears and just smile. He loves you but he's not a big fan of your music.

"CUS TONIGHT WILL BE THE NIGHT THAT I WILL FALL FOR YO-"

"For the love of GOD- Y/N IF I HEAR YOU SING THAT EMO ASS SONG ONE MORE TIME I'M ACTUALLY GONNA RIP MY HAIR OFF."

"You're so quiet babe, what's up?"

"Huh, nothing... just focusing on the road.. You keep singing, I love your voice hehe."

•Yknow how much it annoys him, youre testing his patience to see when he'll tell you to stop. He wont tho babe, he's getting tortured, stop please. (I unironically love that song)

Haechan:

•I think he's the most princess to ever princess which is why he's perfect at giving princess treatment.

•Also hes very clingy, wont leave you alone for even a minute.

•One time you were cutting fruit with a new knife you had just bought and cut your finger on it. He was so annoying with it;

"NOOO MY BABY GOT AN OUCHIE! NO DON'T TOUCH IT. I'LL GET A BAND-AID. DON'T MOVE."

"Hyuck, its just a small c-" He pecks your lips to shut you up and runs to his room. He runs back and to your surprise shows you a hello kitty band-aid. You laugh at that to which he pouts and claims that "it hurts less with this specific one"

Doesn't even let you wash the cut yourself. He washes it for you, puts antiseptic and lastly puts the bandaid on your finger.

He proudly admires his work and when you thank him he "kisses your ouchie" to which you cringed out for a solid five minutes.

•He's the type to say, "I GOT IT" to everything you're about to do.

Opening a jar? He's got it. Opening your apartment door after a date? GASP YOU JUST GOT A MANICURE, HE'LL DO IT. Reaching for the shelf to grab a mug? He's got his Johnny hyung to get it for you cus he can't reach it either.

•He absolutely thinks it's his job to make you laugh. You literally cannot laugh at another guy's jokes now. Mark is an exception tho, he'll fite you for Mark. How dare you not laugh at a stupid joke Mark made.

•Speaking of fite, He'll let you win all playfights. This is how you know shit is srs between y'all. Haechan is competitive. But he'll let you win. I know its an unpopular opinion.

•Especially if you don't have much in common with Haechan and start showing interest in gaming and ask him to teach you, he'll go very easy on you. Yknow, set his pride aside, let you win a lot of games before actually becoming competitive with you as well. Still he won't ever admit it even years after being together- if you have a particularly bad day, he would let you and not make it very obvious, even if you call him names and make fun of him for being a loser, he'll just have a lovesick smile on his face and stars in his eyes as you're doing a dorky winner dance for beating him.

The 127 boys are very proud of their maknae, he's surely grown a lot. You're both still incredibly immature but they love you together.

•Oh the only down side is you're always competing with Renjun.

"Blink twice if you love Renjun and Mark more than me"

*blinks twice*

"We're done."

"NO. I LOVE THEM BUT I ALSO LOVE YOU. DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE PLEASE."

•You love him too much to get mad at the fact that he still didnt choose you

Jaemin:

here we go..

my bias wrecker.

•YOU CANNOT DENY He's going to be the best boyfriend ever.

•You want to put ribbons on him? he bought you those himself. the pinkest of pink ribbon for you to tie his hair, biceps, _anything_ with.

•He loves making you flustered.

•Will check up in you every second of the day.

"Did you eat yet? Slept properly? Drink enough water?"

•Nags at you like a mother.

•If you're studying for exam or just working from home in general he'll pop up to check in on you every five minutes with coffee, freshly cut up fruits, chocolates etc.

•If you're too busy to eat, he will pull a chair and sit beside you, stare at you while you work and feed you occassionally.

•When you're tired he'll give you a massage and draw you a pretty bath with rose petals and scented candles and stuff.

•He cannot say no to your puppy eyes. He loves cats but you're the reason he has three.

•Also the type to get jealous of the cats, AND you if you're not giving him attention. He doesnt know whether he wants to be at your place or the cats'.

•HE COOS AT YOU. A LOT. ANYTHING YOU DO. "AIGOOO MY BABY IS SO ADORABLE *insert incoherent wooing noises as he pulls your cheeks* and you're just there like- '🧍😀'

•If you're on a date, you don't even have to ask. He'll already have his camera ready, suggest you cute poses and click pictures for your Instagram. He'd stay up late to edit them himself.

When you're with Na Jaemin you cannot have a blank looking Instagram.

•Overall hes the sweetest and absolutely adorable but he also has a babygirl to take care of. (He himself is a babygirl)

Chenle:

•Oh hes SPOILING and hes SPOILING BADDDD

•Another one to call you princess.

•I saw a reel of him asking his nephew for a kiss before handing him money. THAT'S SO ADORABLE OH MY GOD MY HEART HE'LL DO THAT WITH YOU TOO.

•Even if you're not the type to accept gifts or ask for money he'll MAKE SURE you get used to it because he JUST LOVES SPOILING HIS PRINCESS

•If you're going for a spa or to get your nails done or any type of self care activity and you DONT ask him to pay, he gets mad. he'll sulk, wont talk to you.

"What's the point of being born in a rich family and working hard to earn a living if my girlfriend doesnt want to spend my money?😔"

"CHENLE, I CAN BUY MY OWN GUM FOR GOD'S SAKE. HOW BROKE DO YOU THINK I AM?"

•He loves you so much. Every night when he does his skincare, you're sitting on the bathroom sink and hes doing your skincare as well.

•Another nagger who will ensure you're hydrated and wellfed, keeps track of your period.

"Hello?"

"Open the door, I know you're on your period, I got you heatpacks, pads and chocolates. Let's watch Hamilton and cuddle."

"Lele, marry me."

"Pick your diamond, baby."

AAAAHHH I AM GOING FERAL.

•But, we all know chenle is so much more than just a rich guy, he'll sing you to sleep and stroke your hair whenever you're stressed

•He may be mean and nagging and annoying sometimes but hes such a huge huge softie for you its crazy. Everytime you walk into the room, its all music and wind blowing and time slowing for him. Cliche lover boy and I'm here for it.

•He loves you so much, if you pout at him he'll be on his knees at your service doing anything and everything you tell him to...even aegyo.

"HEY YOU TOLD ME TO DO AEGYO, YOU CANNOT CRINGE OUT NOW. I'M CUTE!!"

Jisung:

•MY BOY PAINTS YOUR NAILS FOR YOU, MESSILY

•He also tries to learn how to cook for you. The first time he cooked, the food tasted like dish soap cus he thought vegetables had to be cleaned with soap.

•Eventually gets better and cooks very comforting meals. They taste like home, you love it. Yknow the type of food that's not too fancy but its warm and make your heart feel full.

•Thats also what loving him would feel like. He wouldn't go OUT and extreme but whatever he does is warm and fills your heart with love for him more everyday.

•Occasional flowers, gets you chocolates/cookies/ice cream everytime you hang out.

•Lot of movie dates, he'll always let you pick the movie. You'll always be the small spoon

•Oh he always pulls your chair at a restaurant. Also has a habit of putting his hand under your shirt and just holding your stomach when cuddling, makes him feel closer to you. Same with hugging, when you hug his hand peeks under your shirt so hes touching your bare back. It's nothing sexual, it's just intimate.

•He would always purposefully leave his hoodies at your place so you dont have to steal them. He's too shy to admit he left them on purpose. Also does it cus if you stole his hoodie, his poor heart wouldn't be able to handle it. It would probably combust into flames.

"You forgot your hoodie at my place."

"Oh shit, well its okay, you can take it. I don't wear it much anyways." and you're just there thinking,

'That's your favourite hoodie man, you'd rot in it if you could.' You don't tease him about it though. Its cute to you that he trusts you with his favourite hoodie.

•He's the type to be jealous of your plushies but then would also go out of his way to buy more for you. He gets sad if you buy new ones.

In his logic, if he buys them for you, he's the father and the kids will be loyal and know their place. But if you buy them, they'll be too greedy to share you with him. Oh please, he talks to trees don't tell me things like these wouldn't cross his mind.

•He loves it when you ask him to pay for dinner cus you usually split the bill. He realised he loves it a BIT TOO MUCH, makes him feel all alpha-protecter, big boy and would start demanding that he pays for dates more often.

Unlike Chenle he's cool with it if you don't like it, he'll turn it down a notch.

•He just wants you to be comfy and he'll always stick to his boundaries while also keeping an eye on you, making sure you're okay, comfortable and happy with him.

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bettymylove · 8 months

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hello! I really love your work and I was thinking if you could write a one-shot of theo inspired by the song " Open Arms by SZA ". but somehow make it a good ending? idk 😓 ( like a slow burn or something ) reader had to let theo go but theo is kind of begging..? for reader to stay in his life and so on! idk if I explained it good enough but you can search up the song and take a look at the lyrics, you'll see what topic I'm going for!

thank you if your write this! you're an amazingg writer ‼️

never leaving

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: your insecurities push you to break your friendship with Theo, only to realize you were wrong all along.

a/n: hope this matches your expectations, I'm sorry if it didn't<33 (also I feel like I'm apologizing in every a/n)

You could say that Theo took you in, he was the only person in your life that ever made you feel too comfortable. When you were on the train, he had befriended you and he never let his friendship falter.

Theo was everything, he was all you could ever need and it scared you how much you were dependent on him. You had never needed anyone, always doing everything by yourself but you could see that changing.

Friends weren't a usual sight in your life and Theo had changed that, but you still had your doubts and maybe that's why you had decided to tell him.

You always had a lingering feeling, that he was taking pity on you because who would willingly spend so much time with you, call themselves your best friend, he had no reason to do it.

You spotted Theo in the hallway along with Mattheo and Enzo. The former two were smoking, and Theo's eyes met yours, and he immediately threw down his cigarette, crushing it using the sole of his shoe.

His eyes stayed on you while yours diverted here and there, ashamed to even meet his gaze. You wanted to be with him, but he was ruining his life for you, he was way too enamored and you wanted to help him.

You reached the group and scrunched your nose at the nicotine smell, Theo noticed this and dragged you away. Why does he have to be sweet and make this harder? you thought.

"Theo, I-" You questioned yourself, he was the only person who knew you but it would be too selfish to make him stay, so you continued, "I don't think we should be friends anymore"

Maybe friends wasn't the right word to describe you two, you weren't dating but he never dated anyone else and it's not like you could. You always hoped it was because he harbored some feelings for you but that had been a foolish fantasy.

"Y/n, I'm sorry sweetheart, I won't ever smoke again, I mean this was the first time in weeks, I really am trying" what? he thought this was about him smoking?

"No, Theo it's not about that." you simply stated trying to make him understand about you suddenly pulling away. He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but really could find the words.

"You can't do this, you cannot wake up on a random day and decide to remove me from your life as if I'm a pawn in your chess board" he was almost yelling, Theo had never yelled at you nor had he ever gotten angry at you, it was always you being mad and him picking up on it.

You remembered a scenario from second year and how different times had gotten now, you had changed and him not so much but you guess it was for his better.

"Where's y/n?" The twelve year old Theodore Nott asked his friend and said friend just shrugged in response before saying, "She hasn't been talking to anyone."

You're mad, he knew you were you always shut everyone out when you were, falling silent and Theo knew just how to better your mood and so he headed in your direction.

Your flashback stopped when you saw a tear fall from his eyes, you had never seen Theo cry either, only once and that too not intentionally. He was showing every emotion of his and you stood there unable to think, mumbling a sorry before leaving him stranded in that hallway.

Theo was shocked, hurt, angry and was feeling all these emotions at once. He had known you for six years and you had left him in six minutes. He loved you and you couldn't see it.

He knocked on your door for the fifteenth time, and you finally opened it. Your eyes were red and puffed up, you were crying.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked in a small voice unlike the one he used in the hallway, he was scared to lose you.

"You don't need to take anymore pity on me, Theo, go live your life" you said with a sniffle in the end and your statement had only made him more confused.

Pity? he had never taken pity on you, and it hurt himself that you believed that nonsense. "You can't replace me y/n, I'm forever, no matter what."

You so wanted to believe him, you so wanted to be in his arms right now, you so wanted him to stop as he was doing right now but you just couldn't.

"I'm sorry Theo, but I have to" Those were last words to him before you shut the door and Theo couldn't sleep that night.

It had been 2 months, 18 days of you ignoring him and he thought he might go mad, you were driving him crazy, you not being there was so much worse than he had anticipated.

It was late in the night when he spotted you leaning against a railing, breathing hard, and when he got a bit closer he noticed you were crying.

He went to stand beside you, you flinched but then sort of relaxed when you noticed who it was. You laid your head in your hands and started crying even harder and without missing a beat or saying something spiteful, Theo took you in his arms.

It was much later that you realized that you could not live without him, he was your Theo. Your tears wet his shirt but he didn't seem to mind, he never seemed to mind.

"You won't leave again, would you?" He asked as if he knew you were coming back and he was right. "You could try, but this time I won't let you."

You smiled at him, god he was the only person in the world who would never make you feel bad about what you did, and you realise it was only your insecurities holding you back from him.

He kissed your forehead lovingly and hugged you even tighter, "I love you" he whispered, half hoping you didn't hear him, but you did.

#harry potter #slytherin #draco malfoy #theo nott #enzo berkshire #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott one shot

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months

Text

I Know it Won’t Work || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

Summary: You and Tom break up after three years of dating and you perform a song about the truth of the breakup for the first time live.

Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 23 and Tom is 30

Wc: 658

A/n: these r addicting to make lol. Also, changed up some lyrics for the sake of the storyline making sense. 2/4? Fics I’m posting today!

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

You let out a shaky breath, "I left you here, heard you keep the extra closet empty," You sing the first words of your unreleased song to the crowd. "In case this year, I come back and stay throughout my twenties, what if I won't? How am I supposed to put that gently?" You had just freshly turned 23 and broken up with Tom.

You honestly don't know how you ended up here, in-front of a crowd of hundreds in London. Performing in front of people was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment but you had to keep a strong front for your supporters, this show was highly anticipated.

"I've had the thought, tried to work it out through anxious pacin'" Your biggest coping mechanism was writing songs. You never knew how to really express your emotions in sentences to someone, so instead, you write them into songs. Your real feelings and emotions laced into words that in the end, formed a song.

"But it's a lot, all the shine of three happy years fadin'" The crowd watched in silence, partly because it was a new song and they did not know the lyrics to sing along, but also because they were mesmerised. Your voice held so much emotion.

Your fans weren't aware that the two of you have broken up, but a few had already pieced it up. "The whole facade, seemed to fall apart, it's complicated." Everyone viewed you and Tom as the power couple, deeply in love with one another with no flaw or doubt in the relationship

While half of it was true, the other half wasn't. The seven year age gap different had been brought up so many times throughout your relationship. You remember the first time the two of you got together, you were 20 and he was 27.

You both received heavy backlash from the internet but the two of you ignored them all. They weren't the ones in the relationship, they weren't the ones to make the call about whether or not you should be together.

"And part of me wants to walk away 'till you really listen, I hate to look at your face and know that we're feelin' different," As the three years went by, uou hoped you weren't the only one in the relationship that doubted a few things. You didn’t want to admit that other people's comments were getting to you. As the three years progressed with Tom, you felt as if you were just both in such different phases of life.

You were still so young in your early twenties and fresh in your career while it seemed that Tom was ready to settle down, marry, and start a family. He would always mention starting a family and you would listen, not really knowing what to say to him.

But recently, you came into terms with the truth that both you and Tom don't share the same feelings or goals at the moment. "Cause part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" You loved Tom, parts of you still do. He never did anything wrong, he was everything you could have ever wished for. You like to think of him as the right person, wrong time.

But nothing was going to change the fact that you two were just in different stages of life. Nothing will change the seven year age gap between the two of you. "I know we cut all the ties, but you're never really leavin'"

Tom hasn't left your mind. It would've been easier if he did. But he just couldn't. "And part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" Your voice slightly cracks, a single tear drop runs down your face. Eyes closed, you let it. The dewy stream your tear left—accentuated with the bright lights focused on you—did not go unnoticed.

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eufezco · 9 months

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HEART TO HEART — FINNICK ODAIR x FEM!READER

Synopsis — It's hard to get your life back on track when the Capitol has gotten inside your head but Finnick is there to help you. You were enjoying a party in District 13 when you discovered something that triggered you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And I break down, then he's pulling me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Finnick looked at Katniss and considered himself a lucky man.

Although both of them had managed to get back the loves of their lives, their situations now were quite different from what they were used to. Finnick now looked at Peeta and realized how the Capitol had completely destroyed the friend he made in the games, making him incapable of telling the difference between what was real and what the Capitol put in his head. Finnick saw the sadness grow in Katniss' eyes as she and Peeta couldn't spend more than five minutes together without him wanting to jump on her neck.

You, on the other hand, had your moments of lucidity.

Finnick considered himself lucky for being able to enjoy the person you were before the Capitol took you, but the longer those moments lasted, the worse your breakdowns were.

Even though he considered himself luckier than Katniss, it wasn't being easy for him either. He hated to see you fighting the medical team from District 13 while they were trying to inject you with a sedative and the way he had to hold you so they could do it. He hated to see you with your hands and legs tied to the bed as you tried to free yourself from the straps that held you to the mattress. He hated to see your eyes red with rage, the way you flinched when someone made an unexpected move next to you, and how you could not help but be alert to everything that was going on around you.

But Finnick also appreciated when he saw you smile, or talking to someone who wasn't him, or seeing that you had changed your clothes that day or enjoying your meal in the dining room. The way your eyelashes fluttered when he spoke to you like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, how you were always looking to have some sort of physical contact with him whether it was sitting too close at the table or something more subtle like seeking for his hand in the crowd as you listened to the words that Alma Coin pronounced.

The Capitol caused irreparable damage but they had not been able to take everything from you.

―Let's give a huge round of applause to Sarah and Mike from District 11!

The two siblings had been singing since dinner was over along with their band. The lights in the dining room were dimmer, not the cold white ones that gave you a headache every time you went inside. They had set up a small stage and some decorations on the ceiling. Alma Coin knew that Christmas was close and wanted to do something special to raise people's spirits, and it seemed to be working because after dinner, people had stayed to listen to the siblings sing, and some had even encouraged to go out and dance.

―We still have time for a couple more songs, any requests? ―The boy spoke into the microphone, looking at the audience.

It was your hand that rose.

Finnick and Katniss who were sitting at the table with you looked at each other. You got up from the table and walked to the stage, well, you didn't feel your feet moving on the floor, it was more like you were floating. You were enjoying the little concert so much that you had managed to remember all the lyrics of the songs that they had performed when just a few days ago you couldn't even remember your name, your feet moved under the table following the rhythm of the instruments and you even hummed some of the words.

Both siblings approached the edge of the stage and bent down to listen to the title of the song you were asking for. They looked at each other, satisfied, and more than approving your request. You went back to your seat at the table, happy, and before Katniss and Finnick could ask about the song, the little girl called your name through the microphone.

―Why don't you come and sing with us? ―She asked you in her sweet voice. All the people in the dining room were waiting for your answer, some you knew were encouraging you to come up like Haymitch and Effie, and others you knew were judging you just by the way their eyes were on you like Gale, but you didn't care because since your return you had never wanted anything so much as to get on that stage with those two kids.

Finnick held your hand, his eyebrows drawn together. ―Are you sure?

You nodded and showed him a little smile, reassuring him.

They welcomed you with smiles and sweet gestures to show you where to stand. They had placed a microphone in the middle of the two siblings for you.

―May I? ―You asked for the guitar the young girl was holding. She showed you a smile and gave it to you. The guitar felt out of place in your hands, as if it was a stranger and it was the first time you were meeting each other. That was not the truth, the truth was that you had been playing the guitar for as long as you could remember. You liked to play it for the children at District 4 while they sat around the campfire in the sand accompanied by Finnick and they sang with you. But now it all seemed so far away and the instrument felt odd in between your fingers.

You coughed to clear your throat without realizing that you did it right into the microphone. Finnick smiled at how innocent that had been and you smiled embarrassed. ―Sorry.

The two siblings from District 11 were looking at you with their big eyes and with smiles of comfort on their faces, waiting for you to start singing but all those people staring at you was all you could think about. You couldn't remember how the lyrics started.

Finnick nodded at you from the audience.

Can't take my past Can't take my history

The little girl sang for you. There was a friendly expression on her face. Her eyebrows were raised as she was singing the beginning of the song and she nodded as she looked at you, trusting that you knew the words and helping you with her kind gesture to find them.

You could take my pa But his name's a mystery

Her brother continued singing. A similar expression was on his face. Apart from your friends and Finnick, you had trouble finding people who trusted you in District 13. You didn't blame them because even you found it hard to trust yourself.

Nothing you can take from me Was ever worth keeping Nothing you can take Was ever worth keeping

Your voice didn't sound as you expected, it was still the same sweet voice as always. You expected to have completely destroyed it after all the screaming you did at the Capitol, but no, your voice was still there, just as Finnick remembered it. He was trying very hard not to burst into tears because he knew you were watching him.

The band played the song perfectly on their instruments while you tried to follow them on the guitar and more people listening to the lively rhythm of the song came out and danced in the center of the dining room.

Can't take my charm Can't take my humor You can't take my wealth 'Cause it's just a rumor Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Those lines you were singing meant so much, it was like pulling the middle finger to the Capitol. He had never seen you so happy since before the Quarter Quell. There was a smile on your lips while you sang, your body moved to the rhythm of the son, your hands moved skilfully on the guitar, and the boy and the girl from District 11 danced on the stage around you.

―Come on. ―Katniss stood and Finnick looked up at her with his green eyes glassy thanks to the tears.

―Come on where? ―Finnick asked.

―We're gonna dance.

Katniss took his hands and dragged him to the dance floor.

Thinking you're so fine, thinking you can have mine Thinking you're in control Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me Think again, if that's your goal

You laughed into the microphone watching them and you handed the little girl her guitar back. You came down from the stage to join them. Katniss stepped back when she saw you coming and you followed Finnick's movements. He had always been a very good dancer so you let him lead you. You twirled around, laughing, until you were so dizzy that you had to wrap your arms around Finnick's neck, your fingers digging into his hair while his arms went around your waist.

―You were amazing. ―He told you, speaking a little louder so that you could hear him over the music. You hugged him again.

―I love you so much.

Finnick cupped both of your cheeks and kissed you. ―I love you too. ―He said before the group of little girls pulled you by the arm so you'd dance with them.

He kept dancing or something like that with Katniss but with his eyes fixed on you. The girls were being so nice; two of them held your hands while the other two were dancing on their own. Their hairs were tied up in braids and they even asked you if they could braid yours later.

But all of a sudden, you let go of their hands and took a few steps backward, bumping into the people dancing. The girls looked at you worried, had they done something wrong? ―No, no, no. ―You mumbled to yourself.

Finnick stopped and approached you quickly, pushing people out of his way when he saw the change in your mood. He took your face in between his hands, looking for your eyes but they were focused on something that wasn't him. You pushed him once his hands cupped your cheeks, only making eye contact with him for a few seconds and then going back to focus on something else.

When Finnick decided to follow your gaze, he felt a wave of heat form in his lower body and rise to his head. Cressida was behind Castor, directing how the shots of you dancing with the girls should look like. By that time you already left the room.

You tried to record a propo a few days after your arrival in District 13. Heavensbee, but especially Coin, were very insistent that you should do it. They said that your rescue and your dedication to the revolution would bring hope to the people resisting in the districts. You weren't too sure about it, much less Finnick and Katniss, who could see how bad was your state to be exposed to something like that.

You were still in a daze, confused with everything that was going on, and very weak physically when you stood in front of the camera in the ruins of District 13 covered with white roses. The smell of the flowers made you fall to your knees in the debris before Finnick could catch you and throw up everything you had eaten since you were taken out of the Capitol.

―I'm okay, I can do this. ―You said, wiping your mouth with the cuff of your uniform, but it was not true and you found out that when you got in front of the camera. Castor pointed the lens at you while Cressida repeated behind him what you were supposed to say. The spotlights were on you and also were the eyes of the president herself, who had come to the surface to see you film the propo, and suddenly you were back at the Capitol, sitting in front of Caesar Flickerman, drugged to the point where you could not remember your name just the words they'd been repeating for you to say during the interview. Your outfit was tight, your face was covered with powder and make-up so that the bruises would not be visible.

―Don't make me regret rescuing you. ―Alma Coin said to you with a smile on her face before the propo. Something similar to what he told you when the Capitol took you out of the arena.

―Don't make me regret not killing you.

After that day, only one type of images of you was broadcast for the rest of the districts to see and they were of you living your life in District 13, recording you when you didn't notice and taking advantage of the moments when you were doing well to show it to the rest of the nation and obviously, without your consent.

Finnick was not happy with that decision and he made sure to make it clear at the meeting at which it was discussed, shouting, running his hands over his face, offering himself to do all the propos they wanted. He was desperate to get them to let you recover in peace.

Katniss agreed with Finnick. She did not like the idea of turning you into a product to fool people into thinking that everything was fine, much less without having your approval. Haymitch and Effie were silent but neither did they agree with what Alma Coin wanted to do with you and Beetee suggested other options but nothing was as valuable to Alma as your image.

The only ones who openly agreed with Heavensbee and Coin were Cressida and Gale. She said that it would be good for the spirit of rebellion and that they would do it so discreetly that you would never know. On the other hand, it seemed like Gale had a lot to say even though he didn't know you at all, and because of that, he ended up in the infirmary that afternoon after he replied to Finnick's complaints by saying:

―There are times when we have to do things we don't want to do, you should know that better than anyone else.

And Finnick couldn't help himself and get up from his seat and before Gale could finish speaking Finnick's fist was already against his cheekbone. That same hand with which Finnick hit Katniss' friend was now smacking Castor's camera into the floor, a gasp could be heard from the people who had stopped dancing to see what was happening. Finnick pointed at Cressida with his index finger, threateningly.

―I warned you to keep that shit away from her.

Katniss was fast to intervene, stepping in between Finnick and the woman. She looked at Cressida with pure rage but knew she couldn't do anything with all those people watching ―Go find her.

Finnick approached the girls you had been dancing with. He knelt by their side. ―Did you see where she went? ―He asked kindly to them, perfectly hiding his nervousness. One of them pointed at one of the doors and he immediately knew where you were. He flashed a smiled to her as a thank you.

―Have we done something wrong? ―She played with her hands.

―No, she was having lots of fun with you. ―Finnick caressed the hair at the top of the little girl's head and stood on his feet.

―When you find her, please tell her we still want to braid her hair.

You were sitting on the floor, holding your legs close to your chest. You had already hidden in that place several times before. It was Katniss who found the first time because it was the same place where she would hide right after she was rescued.

You moved back and forth, mumbling words that Finnick could not decipher, and with your head down, your forehead resting on your arms. When you heard Finnick's footsteps getting closer, you tried to escape him, crawling backward and watching as he quickly approached so that you couldn't get too far away. He fell to his knees in front of you, grabbing your cheeks again to make you look at him.

―It's me. It's Finnick.

You analysed his face, your eyes moving fast across his face looking for any friendly features on that face but all you could see was the face of a traitor. Your lips trembled as they continued to mumble I don't think I can forgive him for what he's doing, Caesar. I didn't know Finnick Odair was like that, I didn't know he would join the rebellion. What you do in the games is one thing but what you do outside the arena is what defines you.

―You're safe. We're in District 13, you're not there anymore.

You're right, Caesar. He has tricked me into thinking he was someone he is not. I thank president Snow everyday for helping me realize.

―You're from District 4. We live together. Our house is near to the beach. You won the 72th Hunger Games. We went back to the arena for the Quarter Quell. The Capitol took you. I'm Finnick Odair. I was your mentor along with Max.

If he were watching this I would tell him to think for himself. It's not too late to start doing things right and stop this war, and if he is unrepentant and this has always been his true self, Caesar, I think I may have never lov...

―You're here with us and we will protect you. Katniss is here at District 13 and so are Johanna and Peeta.

...I think I may have never lo...

―You're okay, baby.

...I may have never...

You hugged Finnick tightly against you, your eyes wide open and your hands shaking from the strength you were putting into holding him to be able to feel he was real. ―I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm losing my mind. ―You cried.

Finnick shook his head while he held you almost as strongly as you held him. He kept whispering sweet words until he felt how your body began to relax. Finnick carefully pulled you away from him so he could use his thumbs to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. ―It's fine, I'm here with you. It's not your fault, they've done horrible things to you but you're with me now, you're safe. They will have to go over my dead body to get their hands on you again.

He helped you to move so that you were sitting on his lap, with your head resting on his chest and his arms around your body. When some time passed and you calmed down, he could see it in the way your body had stopped shaking and also because you had stopped sobbing a while ago but you didn't want to separate from him, Finnick decided to try to cheer you up.

―Do you know who told me where you went?

You shook your head, really curious.

―Those new friends you made on the dance floor.

You pressed your lips into a smile, you were having so much fun with those little girls...―They were so cute, I must have scared them.

Finnick shook his head and kissed your temple. ―Not at all. They told me they'll wait for you. They said they wanted to braid your hair.

Now you really smiled, snuggling into his chest.

―Do you want me to take you to our room?

You shook your head, making yourself comfortable in Finnick's lap. It was not the most comfortable or welcoming place to be but he didn't want to rush you to leave. He was aware that they would be looking for you two, they would take you away from him and lock you in a room next to Peeta's, thinking that you were a menace and putting you in a place where the screams of the boy next door would drive you crazy.

―We can stay here for as long as you want then.

You hummed in response, closing your eyes and focusing on Finnick holding you in between his arms. Thanks to your head on his chest and the silence, you could hear Finnick's heart and you were relieved because it was the realest thing you had ever experienced. Its beats were peaceful but still managed to quiet all the noise in your head.

You were so immersed in Finnick's heartbeat you would swear yours was beating so hard against your chest because it wanted to escape your body so it could be closer to his.

#finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #thg #thg finnick #thg imagine #tbosas #thg angst #thg fluff #finnick #sam claflin

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 5 months

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You Already Know, Babe

Request: Heyy would I be able to pretty please ask for a Roy one-shot based of So High School? Mainly the lyric: "Truth, Dare, Spin Bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" (bc I have TTPD brainrot) Like I'd love to picture Roy with a total academic girl who loves classic literature and ancient greece and philosophy pls ???

Roy Kent x Reader

3.3k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being insecure, the guys making Roy feel bad (not on purpose)

A/N: Ahhh I also have TTPD brainrot so I loooooove this! I made the reader a uni professor. Also been wanting to do a Bantr fic for Roy for a while, so I incorporated that in too!

Roy scowled and sipped his beer. “Fuck no.”

Leaning forward in the booth they sat in, Keeley gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, the ones that stopped working the moment he got over her. “Come on, Roy. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it’d be good for you.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Jamie chimed in.

“‘Fuck no’ used to be a complete sentence,” Roy growled.

Before he could stop the striker, Jamie grabbed Roy’s mobile off the table, holding it just out of the gaffer’s reach. “Just… one… moment…” he huffed as Keeley did her best to hold Roy back. “Alright, we need a username.”

Roy rolled his eyes but stopped fighting against Keeley’s grip. “How about ‘This is fucking stupid’?”

“I think that’s against their policy,” Jamie hummed, eyes still on the phone.

Keeley thought for a moment. “RoyallySarcastic? Y’know, ROYally?”

Jamie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I got it!” He typed away before proudly showing the screen to Roy and Keeley. “RoyalPain,” he announced.

With a giggle, Keeley took the phone from Jamie and handed to Roy, who looked ready to kill his friends. “There we are Roy-o,” she said. “Welcome to Bantr.”

Roy sat at the small table, fidgeting with the shiny fork on the table and staring intently at the condensation on the glass of water in front of him. Why the fuck was he so nervous? He was Roy fucking Kent, he reminded himself sternly. He’d been on plenty of dates. Sure, this was his first Bantr date, but that shouldn’t really matter. He’d been on a couple of blind dates in the past; this shouldn’t be much different.

But it sure felt different when you walked in, all wide eyes and nervous smiles. You approached him hesitantly, cocking your head as you got closer. Your gaze flickered to the tattered copy of A Wrinkle in Time on the table next to him before settling on his face.

“RoyalPain?” you squeaked out, raising your eyebrows expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, he grinned and blurted out, “I Kant believe it’s you.” Immediately, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope, fuck, that was stupid. I’m sor-”

Your laughter eased his embarrassment as you sat across from him. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you countered. “That was cute.” You offered your name with a small smile.

“Roy,” he said simply, searching your face for any sign that you recognized him.

Instead, you nodded and leaned forward. “And what do you do, Roy?”

What did he do? He tried to remember the last time someone asked him that. “I work for a football team,” he said slowly. “A.F.C. Richmond.”

You nodded, interest all over your pretty face. “And what do you do at Richmond?”

He blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Do you… you don’t know who I am?” Fuck, he felt like an absolute asshole saying the words out loud.

“Sure I do,” you chuckled. “I just figured that Roy Kent doesn’t often get the chance to introduce himself. Thought I’d give you the opportunity.”

Roy couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, it was kind of dorky, but fuck, he liked it. Just like he liked hearing about your job as a uni professor, or the article you recently wrote about Arthurian legend, or the book you’d read recently. And he really liked the way you looked at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world, more interesting than the well-renowned experts and authors you got to spend time with, asking him about his work and his life and his opinions. He smiled all through dinner, laughing at jokes even when they went over his head and making a mental list of books he now wanted to read.

He was still grinning as he walked you to your car after dinner, wondering when he’d last enjoyed himself so much on a date. As you fished your keys out of your purse, he found himself desperately hoping for another date with you. And another. And another.

“Could we do this again sometime?” he asked gently once your keys were in your hand.

Fuck, he loved the way your eyes lit up at his question. “Absolutely,” you breathed.

With a dizzy little nod, Roy cupped your face and tugged you close, ghosting his lips over yours. You gently laid your hands on his hips to press against him, deepening the kiss. You swore you could feel him smiling against your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. Some little part of you wanted to pull this man into your car, into your apartment, into your bed. But from the happy little hum that vibrated from his chest to yours, you knew you had plenty of dates ahead of you, plenty of time for all that, plenty of Roy Kent ahead of you.

After three weeks of dates and laughter and late-night phone calls and kisses that escalated to other things, Roy invited you to a match. He seemed weirdly nervous for a retired football legend whose dating history could fill any of the giant books that filled the shelves in your office, but you found his nerves nothing short of charming. So, you threw on some comfy jeans and a sweatshirt and climbed into Roy’s giant black car to go with him to Nelson Road, where he showed you his office before giving you your ticket and sending you off to your seat with a chaste kiss.

Roy was fighting the stupidest smile as he prepared for the match, the same stupid smile he’d been fighting since your first date. He was excited for you to see him and the Greyhounds in action, to be able to show off for you a little and, he didn’t fucking know, make you proud or some shit.

“Was that your girlfriend, Roy?” Sam raised his eyebrows as he and Jan stood in the doorway.

He cleared his throat. “No,” he said slowly. “But we’ve been dating for a few weeks.” He paused for a moment, hoping he didn’t look too dopey as he spoke. “She’s a professor. Fucking brilliant. Like, she teaches, and she’s been published and speaks at conferences.”

Jan spoke up. “Most men would not be able to handle dating a woman so much more educated than they are. Good for you, Coach. It’s nice that you are not intimidated by her clearly superior intellect.”

A knot appeared in Roy’s stomach, but he simply cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well.” He blinked, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to that. “Best finish getting ready, hmm?”

Jan’s words continued to flutter around Roy’s mind like an annoying butterfly as he made his way out to the pitch. He liked that you were smart. Hell, he liked that you were smarter than him. He could listen to you talk for hours about literature and history and philosophy, especially when your eyes lit up and your voice got faster, the way he noticed it did when you were especially passionate about something. It was impressive, not to mention sexy as all hell. But there had definitely been moments over the last few weeks where he had to Google what you were talking about while you weren’t looking, or where he laughed at a joke he didn’t really understand. It came with the territory, he told himself. It was to be expected, dating someone like you.

And there you were, sitting in the seat Roy had selected for you, the one that gave you the perfect view of the dugout- per your request. You waved excitedly when you caught Roy’s eye, wearing that giant smile that made his heart skip a beat. He offered back a small wave, knowing full well that all the guys could see his furious blush.

“That your girl?” Colin asked, following Roy’s dreamy gaze.

Roy shrugged, turning his attention back to his team. “Uh, I guess?” he mumbled, taking the clipboard Nate handed him.

Sam spoke up. “Roy said she’s a uni professor.”

Respect covered the faces of the men that were clearly more interested in Roy’s love life than their impending match. They all started chattering over each other, ignoring Roy’s eyerolls and Beard and Nate’s amused expressions.

Richard waggled his eyebrows. “Does she offer special office hours for you, Coach?”

Roy wrinkled his nose at the Frenchman. “What the fuck is that supposed to-”

“Did you have to buy a new dictionary to keep up with her?” Zoreaux teased.

Isaac spoke up, clapping a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Most guys would probably run for the hills if they had to keep up with a woman’s brainpower,” he started. “But Roy’s not intimidated. I mean, sure, we all know he’s no Einstein, but he’s got other great qualities. Like…”

Roy raised a cool eyebrow at the captain, more curious than offended at this point.

“Coaching,” Colin finally finished for Isaac. “He’s a great manager.”

Jamie pipped up now. “And she seems to really like looking at you, Grandad.” He nodded to the stands where, sure enough, you were still gazing at Roy, affection all over your face. “She’s cute,” he mused.

Roy cleared his throat, trying to focus attention to the match at hand and not your pretty smiles. Or the words of his players that had etched a deep frown onto his bearded face. “Alright, Greyhounds!” he hollered. “Let’s fucking focus, lads! We’ve got a fucking match to win!”

And they did win, much to Roy’s pleasure. Winning always felt good, but he had to admit that winning in front of a pretty girl felt fucking great. And it was even better when he found you waiting in his office, gazing at him as if you had hearts in your eyes.

“That was brilliant!” you gushed, wrapping your arms around his middle while his rested on your shoulders and tugged you close. You pressed a tiny kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Roy.”

He smiled down at you and pecked your nose. “Think you’ll come again sometime?” he teased.

Your eager nodding melted his heart. “Absolutely,” you promised. “Maybe next time I’ll even wear a kit. Since I think I’m officially a Richmond fan now.”

“That kit better have a six on it,” Roy growled, smacking another kiss to your cheek. He gave you a small squeeze before releasing you. He reached down to grab your hand. “I’ve got to go talk to the press for a bit, he explained, leading you over to his desk. “D’you mind waiting here? We can grab dinner once I’m done,” he promised. “Here, you can even watch the presser on my computer.”

“Sounds perfect.” You touched his cheek and pulled him close for one more kiss. “Now get going, I want to see you be brilliant in front of all those reporters.”

Roy was still blushing when he got in front of the cameras. The press conference was a blur of questions and comments. He’d probably have to apologize to Keeley later, because he was sure he was dreamy and distracted the entire time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so lovesick over a woman, and he especially couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed it so much.

When he returned to his office, he was surprised to see Jamie sitting on the edge of his desk, chatting pleasantly with you. You both lit up at the sight of him, with Jamie choosing to speak first as Roy offered a small grin to you.

“Your girl was just telling me about this seminar she’s speaking at next weekend,” he announced. “Some talk on the Lord of the Rings books and their impact on modern cinema.” He nodded to you. “It actually sounds really cool.” He slid off the desk with ease, offering you a wink. “Not sure what someone as smart as you is doing with Grandad here,” he joked.

He was kidding around. Roy knew that. Jamie loved to tease everyone, especially him. He was well-aware of the way Jamie admired him, as his childhood hero, as his coach, and, fuck it, fine, as his friend. Maybe it was all the joking from earlier, but Roy felt his face fall at Jamie’s teasing. He couldn’t help it; it was one thing for the guys to joke to his face, another to make a comment in front of you. He wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but some part of him was terrified you’d realize how brilliant you were, and how dull he was, and call the whole thing off.

Roy was so busy stewing in his childish embarrassment, he missed the way your eyebrows scrunched at Jamie, your mouth in a straight line. When you spoke, your voice was flat, maybe even a little angry, as you responded to the striker.

“I think,” you said slowly, “I’m going to dinner with him.” With that, you took Roy’s hand, hoping the adoration in your eyes would be enough to wipe that frown off his handsome features. “Ready, Roy?”

Roy nodded, but barely said a word as the two of you walked through the Dog Track, got into his car, and drove to the restaurant he’d been excitedly telling you about the day before. However, that excitement was nowhere to be seen as the two of you settled in and ordered some dinner. You cocked your head at him, wondering how someone who’d just coached such a great game could look so sullen- especially while on a date with someone he was supposed to really like.

“That match was incredible,” you offered, leaning forward with a smile. “Seriously, Roy. How do you do that? Being able to see the game unfold and know what plays to call, what players to have on the pitch. And all the preparation you have to do in advance. It’s like a really intense game of chess, with all those moving pieces, not knowing what the other side is going to do next.” You reached out and laid your hand on top of his. “Your team is so lucky to have you.”

His gaze avoided yours as he cleared his throat. “Dunno how much of it is me,” he chuckled hollowly. “I inherited a great team and have a really talented coaching staff.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like I just… stand there and take up space.”

Now it was your turn to frown. This wasn’t the Roy Kent you met, the Roy Kent that teased you and smirked and made cocky comments just to make you laugh. Something had happened, something between the beginning of the match and the end, to make him so morose. Maybe something had happened in the match that you’d missed; you weren’t much of a sports fan before meeting Roy, you really only knew the basics, so it was possible what you thought was an incredible match was really something of a failure for him.

Maybe distracting him would help.

“I was telling Jamie Tartt about the conference I’m speaking at,” you tried again. “It’s this fantasy and pop culture thing. Kind of dorky,” you admitted. “But I’m really excited about my talk on Tolkien and his influence on modern cinema. My colleague was saying he really liked this one parallel I drew between Frodo and- well, I don’t want to spoil it.” You squeezed his hand. “You should come. I’ve seen you at work, now I want to show you what I do.” You shrugged. “Could even bring Jamie if you want.”

Roy nodded absently, not quite looking you in the eye. “Yeah, just make sure to get me a translator so I can understand what you’re saying.” His voice sounded like he was attempting to make a joke, but it fell flat. “Academics to neanderthal or some shit.”

That was enough of that, you decided. With a sigh, you leaned back, cocking your head at the gaffer and shooting him your sternest glare, the one you saved for students who didn’t know how to act like adults in your classroom. “Alright, Roy. What’s going on? You’re acting like you don’t want to be here, and, frankly, I don’t want to hang out with someone who doesn’t value my time.”

“I…” Roy let out a low growl and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re smart,” he finally blurted out. “Like, really, really fucking smart. You teach, and you’re published, and you speak in front of academic types who hang onto every word you say.” He released his nose and shook his head at you, embarrassment swimming in those brown eyes. “And I… played football. I coach football. That’s fucking it. I can’t stand the idea of you being embarrassed by the fact that I can’t keep up with you. That you’re going to turn around and realize I’m not smart enough for you.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as you took in the sight of him, looking devastated, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was right, he was a neanderthal, and that you didn’t think he was smart enough for you. If it wasn’t so sad, the picture of Roy looking so forlorn would be almost endearing.

“That,” you finally murmured, “might be the stupidest thing you’ve said since we met, Roy.” He nodded, a grimace covering his face as you went on. “Not smart enough for me?” you scoffed. “Roy, I think you’re brilliant.” You sighed and shook your head. “I mean, look at you today. I could never do what you do, managing an entire football team. And I’ve seen clips of you when you played, you were brilliant then too. Not just a skilled player, but a smart one. And from what you’ve said, you have great relationships with your players, with your niece and sister, hell even with your ex-girlfriend. That takes an emotional intelligence most people don’t have.”

“I mean-”

You shushed the gruff man. “’m not finished. And what’s this about you not being able to keep up with me? You read almost as much as I do, Roy. When you don’t know something, you immediately learn everything you can about it. You absolutely tore through ‘Le Morte d'Arthur’ after our first date so you could ask me about my King Arthur article.” A smile finally broke through your face. “So, unless this is some roundabout way of trying to say you don’t want to see me anymore, please stop insulting the man I’m dating and accept that there’s different kinds of intelligence. And I like your intelligence quite a bit.”

For a moment, you thought you may have completely overwhelmed Roy. He blinked at you with an unreadable expression before letting out a breathy chuckle. With raised eyebrows and something that looked close to a smile, he finally opened his mouth.

“I’ve just… never had such an intelligent girlfriend before,” he said slowly. “I’ve dated smart women. Driven women. But no one like you. It’s… a little scary, how brilliant you are.” That something close to a smile became a real grin as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “And really fucking sexy,” he added quickly.

Your heart skipped a beat with every word out of his mouth. “You’ve never had a nerdy girlfriend before, hmm?” you teased.

His expression was bashful, but absolutely pleased. “No,” he chuckled. “I haven’t.”

A smirk crossed your face as you batted your eyes at him. “Do you want a nerdy girlfriend?”

Those brown eyes were so soft, so full of affection as he nodded gently. “Yeah,” he breathed, raising those thick eyebrows at you. “I really fucking do.”

“That,” you hummed with a silly grin, “might be the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Roy.”

#request ❤️#he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

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shaampoo · 5 months

Text

OMG!?!??! I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS SONG (and AU), RIGHT NOW!!!

(By Lydia the bard

TINKERBELL VILLAIN SONG - Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall | Song by Lydia the Bard and Tony | Animatic

The title^)

youtube

First of all the cover art is AMAZING, Tink is SO pretty, the sparkle and lines on the wings, her grin, HER HAIR, HER EARS, HER DRESS,

Also, "Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall" is a great title

Now the video itself and its lyrics, i really REALLY want to just compliment every single frame of this video, its so beautiful, so well done, its like it was blessed by The Muses of greek mythology,

Okay so the lyrics at 0:45

"You dont seem to quite understand what is at stake,

This messed up little family that i had to make"

Not only is this line so beautiful with the way her voice sounds, its pretty much a nod to the fact Tink and her friends kidnapped peter pan and the lost kids to keep her and her friends alive

(0:55) \/

"If i could let them all go home please know that i would

But it'd do more harm than good"

Just Tink expressing her guilt that she and her friends kidnapped the lost boys so that they could keep existing, but like, JWHSEAJKHWED, she ofc doesn't want her or her friends to die, and since people are slowly not believing in fairies anymore, they're slowly going extinct, ALSO, Fawn and Silvermist are DEAD, so yeah, that messes with someones head

AAAALSOOOO, i LOVE their silhouettes, the height and weight differences instead of them all having the same height and weight like in the movies, plus, i LOVE that despite not looking like how they do in the movies, you can probably still tell who is who,

ALSO

Even if it wasnt intentional, i like how in kinda faraway shots, Tink has a more cuter roundish look, while in closer shots shes more edgy and more intimidating(? if that's the right word), kinda showing how others view her (kinda?) as a cute fairy, maybe underestimated, but yknow, close up, shes plotting to kill a child

(1:15)

I love how Tink is gesturing in this scene, cause 1. It conveys to the audience what she wants from the lost boys and 2. Canonically, when fairies talk, people usually just hear jingling of bells, so shes gesturing because shes also conveying what she wants to the lost boys

1:23

"Swear its nothing personal, its a necessary evil"

I just love this line because it is a necessary evil, she needs the lost boys and peter pan in neverland to believe in fairies so that they exist, and Wendy is pretty much a threat, since she makes the lost boys want to grow up with families,

Also, the lost boys look so cute in here, i cant remember their names tho, one is holding a slingshot, aiming at wendy, one is holding rocks , and one has a stick , so Tink just told these children to assassinate Wendy, or at least attack her.

1:35

I love how the kids explain that Tink make them do it, and Peter Pan just glares at Tink, and i love that I'm pretty sure that Peter isn't mad/doesnt blame the lost boys

As seen in this scene where Pete is smiling and stuff at the Lost Boys and/or at Wendy

1:55

I love how Tink refers to Wendy as a "Nasty little spark" because, a spark can turn into a fire, damaging a lot of stuff and people, pretty much saying that Wendy has to be snuffed out before she causes a fire,

"Setting fires inside my house is just not allowed"

Pretty much referring to the fact that Wendy, the spark, is creating a fire, aka, making the lost boys want to grow up and go back to the real world, making them not believe in fairies anymore, thus, making her and her friends die, which is, not allowed.

Also. the fear in Tink's eyes is so fear, her expression is on point, the mix of concern and fear is just, so beautiful, also i love her pointed ears

2:17

First of all, this screenshot does not do justice to the actual design of the mermaid (siren?), cause they are AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, GORGEUS.

Also, the fact that Tink is persuasive enough to convince someone to kill Wendy in such a short amount of time is impressive, and the fact that the mermaids agreed so quickly is also impressive,

When it failed, the absolute horror and shock on Tink's face? Shes horrified that another plan of hers failed, and shes scared that her friends might die, like, wow

The despair on her face is just so...asdjwoaijdoiwajd

3:38

The fact that Peter Pan (i cant even give him a nickname cause Pete sounds different and P.P. is just wrong and Pan is just A Thing), first at the gust of wind that blows away the pixie dust (which keeps the ship afloat) he covered his eyes, maybe cause the dust or his hair in his eyes, then he looks at Tink in anger and shock and probably some confusion, then looks at Wendy, in concern and fear,

Theory: Pan knows that, since Tink doesnt want the lost boys to leave, and he knows that gust of wind was from the fairies, and Tink's dislike and hatred to WEndy, that Wendy was probably the only one not going to be saved, which is why he only looks at her and tries to save her (that or he's a SIMPPPPPPP /j)

3:50

The fact that you can see Wendy screaming??? Chills,

And the black screen right after, signalling Wendy's death is just amazing

Anyways, overall, what im saying is

THIS SONG IS AMAZING GO CHECK IT OUT, GO CHECK OUT THIS PERSONS CHANNEL, THEY HAVE GOOD VILLAIN SONGS, THEY EVEN HAVE ENCANTO!!!!

#Lydia the Bard #Villain Song #Villain Songs #Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall #song analysis #Though i did little analyzing but idk #GREAT SONG #TInkerbell #?#Youtube

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0310s · 10 months

Text

seventeen and their crush making them a playlist 🎵

summary: friends-to-lovers!!! their reactions when you make a playlist for them. the premise is that you're friends with them and they have a crush on you!

word count: 856

jeonghan

౨ৎ when you send jeonghan a spotify link at 3am, he's puzzled at why you're still awake at such an atrocious hour. he sees the message hours later when he wakes up and finds out you've made him a playlist of japanese songs, comprised of mainly gentle indie and acoustic tracks.

"since you're learning japanese, i thought it would help to listen to music in the same language!" you declare through text. he's genuinely awed you remembered he was learning japanese even if he mentioned it only in passing, and even more touched that you thought of curating a playlist based on his own taste in music. it means that you paid attention to him and what he liked.

jeonghan uses your playlist to study the language diligently, translating lyrics and repeating them out loud multiple times as practice. the next time he sees you, he insists on buying you coffee for a week straight, and he's not accepting no for an answer. he also clings to you like a leech, demanding that you accept his help with literally everything, from studies to getting groceries. later in that week, he also vows to help you with your love life by asking you out on a date. and who are you if not helpless to jeonghan's whims to say no?

jihoon

౨ৎ "so what do you listen to while working out?" you ask jihoon. surprisingly, he listens to nothing. "so you just do chest or legs for an hour and a half straight without a soundtrack to keep you going? you monster, that sounds like literal hell!" you gasp in pure, unadulterated horror. jihoon doesn't think it's much of a problem until you send him a playlist titled "playlist to work out to". he sends you a laughing emoji, thinking it was just a joke based on your conversation from days ago, but when you tell him you made it specifically for him, his entire tune changes.

when jihoon checks the playlist, he notices how it's perfectly an hour and a half, enough time for his work out with minutes to spare for his cool down—now he has to listen to music while working out. you chose the perfect songs: heavy-bass, hard-hitting hip-hop at the start of the playlist to pump him up and relatively calmer songs along the end for when he winds down. he doesn't tell you he's listened to it while at the gym for weeks straight, so much that he's memorized the lyrics to all the tracks as well as the transitions from one song to the next. the rest of the guys at the gym wonder why he's suddenly wearing headphones, only to realize why when they see his phone.

when you mention the playlist to him in passing, jihoon pretends to be normal about it, but when you get all excited about how you based it off the playlists he had on his spotify page, he gets flustered and tongue-tied. he knows you're a kind person, but he falls deeper into you, knowing you'd take the time to do something as meaningful as this for him. still, he's busted when his friends pass by and tell you he's been listening your playlist at the gym for weeks on end. in the end, jihoon's embarrassment is worth it when you ask him out on a date yourself.

vernon

౨ৎ you and vernon listen to completely different genres of music. while you enjoy your daily dose of r&b, vernon's headphones are filled with sounds of pop punk and hyperpop. despite this, you and vernon share your current favorite tracks with each other, taking time to listen to each other's recommendations. you possess a mutual respect for both your preferences and don't feel like you necessarily need to have the same music taste to be friends.

however, vernon's in for a surprise when on his birthday, you hand him a mixtape in the form of a cd with a doodle of you and him on it. "vernon and (y/n)'s mixtape :)," it reads on the cd in loopy handwriting, complete with a smiley face. "hi, vernon," you cheerily say from his laptop speakers. he shivers at the sound of your dulcet voice (cute!!!!). "i hope you enjoy this little mixtape i made you. it's a bunch of songs i thought you'd like based on your music taste! enjoy and happy birthday," you end with a giggle.

on his first listen, he can't believe what he's hearing. you've compiled some of his favorite songs in this mixtape, alongside other pop punk and hyperpop tracks he loves but has never shared with you. there are some songs from the same genres he's never heard of, and he becomes immediately obsessed with them. on his third listen, he still can't believe how you knew exactly the type of songs he'd like. in return, he makes you a mixtape of r&b songs he thinks you'd like. at the end of the mixtape, he confesses to you and nervously asks you out on a date. vernon receives a call immediately from you: "i've been waiting this whole time for you to ask!"

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dootznbootz · 1 month

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I don't know about you, but I'm a bit mixed about Calypso in EPC. I mean, her songs are good, her singer's quite talented, so I don't have a problem... musically, at least.

But, story-wise, Calypso seems a bit too victim-like in my taste. "I'm not sorry for loving you" seems like it wants to make us sympathize with her and to consider her as Odysseus' friend.

While making her nuanced is interesting, the Epic fandom could be inclined to forget what she did to him in the Odyssey. And how miserable he was alongside her.

On the plus side, "Love in paradise" affirms she's the powerful one and Odysseus later confirms he doesn't love her romantically (plus Athena's 'he never cheated on his wife' line in "God games")

So it won't be detrimental for OdyPen 🥰.

What do you think ?

Oh, I'm definitely mixed about Calypso in Epic. As just like you said:

"While making her nuanced is interesting, the Epic fandom could be inclined to forget what she did to him in the Odyssey. And how miserable he was alongside her."

The Epic Fandom already DOES forget what happens in the Odyssey or think that they are the same thing. :/ I see stuff talking about Scylla in how Odysseus lights the torches and yet, it's tagged as "Odyssey". I love "light up six torches" as it's very dark but also very painful for Epic!Odysseus and that's really fun!

But I get saddened when people think that happened in the Odyssey ;~; as it's one of my favorite parts where Odysseus, knowing that Circe warned him, still goes to put on his armor to try and fight Scylla himself. He tried so fucking hard to save them. And they all grieved later on together. Eurylochus does mutiny in both but in the Odyssey, it isn't because of Scylla or anything. They were all just...Hungry ;~;

That's not even talking about how the Epic Fandom was when we only got the snippet of "There are other ways" ;~;

I still remember when there were jokes about how Odysseus is just like Hamilton and "Couldn't say No to this." Also Circe never did that to "protect her nymphs" in the Odyssey. She did it for funsies as she's a goddess and can do what she wants. That doesn't mean he was happy though.

I DO trust Jay to do well with Calypso's island. While I really am nervous about "I'm not Sorry for Loving you." like very nervous. I think HE'LL also make it clear that Odysseus isn't well or happy. As he has that cut song with the lyrics of:

"Is this some kind of trick? Pretending I can go Because if so, you're sick My heart's already broken"

So even though he cut that song because the beat and the music did NOT fit the situation, I'm very sure he'll have another like it showing Odysseus' despair and suffering.

I just... sighs I'm in a funky situation where I love Epic. I love it a lot. I think it's a genuinely good and fun retelling. I think while some spots are inaccurate, some are still really neat. I just get sad about this almost...disdain towards the actual Odyssey?

"Oh, Odysseus doesn't mention Penelope and Telemachus as much as he does in Epic-" Yes, he does. It's in so many of the metaphors and there's so many moments where he's clearly thinking about them. I love singing Penelope's name longingly too but an ancient epic poem is gonna be a lil different xD

"Oh Polites isn't really in it-" ...And?? That's okay. You enjoy Jay's character he created who really isn't in the Odyssey as much.

"Odysseus is such a manwhore in the Odyssey-" I am beating you over the head with a fucking rock.

Jay is clearly so fucking passionate and cares about this story so so much (he had a MENELAUS SONG (I grieve it's loss every day ;~; THEY CAN BOTH SIMP FOR THEIR HOT AF WIVES)) He had other characters planned!

But yeah ;~; I get so fucking sad every time someone talks about Epic being better than the Odyssey. Like even JAY wanted to clear that up that "hey, the Odyssey is really cool! I mean I wrote this because I love it so much." and yet... people don't wanna know or even TRY to understand what happens in the actual Epics.

I have hope. I just hope the FANDOM follows through.

#Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #odysseus #ask #superkooku #epic the musical #calypso #ogygia #essay #Calypso WISHES she was detrimental to odypen xD #Immortal or not. Penny is best girl. MWAH

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stylescine · 1 year

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okkkk so remember when harry sang vossi bop with stormzy. so there's a lyric in it which goes "i finish with a FACIAL just to topp ot off' what if reader is innocent and asks harry what that is after his performance backsatage and he has to answer and then she asks him to do it for her?

gosh i am in love with this!!!

Warnings: facial, oral (m receiving), VERY innocent reader lol

It wasn't her first time visiting Harry at one of his concerts. She loved to see him perform and today was even more special. Stormzy would be performing a song with Harry and she was just as excited as everyone else to hear them sing together.

She was standing by the side of the stage, moving to the music as her boyfriend was singing in front of the crowd. Stormzy eventually came on and Harry started singing his song "Vossi Bop" with him. She had heard the song in the radio before, like everyone probably did, but hearing it live was even better.

It was also interesting to see Harry sing a different type of music and her boyfriend seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly. She clapped loudly like everyone else when the song came to an end.

The lyrics stuck with her though. "I finish with a facial just to top it off" was one she couldn't quite understand. What was a facial and why did anyone have to top something off with it?

The show went on for another while and she danced and sang like everyone else. By the time Sign of the Times came around and the show ended, she was whistling and clapping for Harry like the rest of the room. She still felt so proud seeing Harry up there on the stage, doing what he loved. The energy the man could bring to a room was impressive and unmatched.

As soon as Harry disappeared behind the stage again, she did the same and met him in the hallway to the dressing room.

"Darling," he smiled and opened his arms for her as she was quick to jump into them. His arms wrapped tightly around her while he lifted her up, his scent filling her nose. His hair was messy from the dancing and his cheeks red, but he still looked absolutely beautiful. "That was such a great show again. And what a nice surprise for everyone," she told him with a smile as he set her back down onto the ground.

"I always try my best when you're in the crowd. " There was a cheeky grin on his face. She chuckled softly at his comment before she intertwined their fingers again, walking back to the dressing room with him. Harry would probably change back into jeans and a hoodie before they would leave to head home. He usually didn't stay in the suits unless it was show time.

She sat down on the couch in the room as Harry shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. Maybe she could ask him about the line she didn't quite understand earlier.

"What's a facial, love?"

Harry turned around quickly, his eyes wide as he stared at her. Did she just tell him about a ghost? "Did I-"

"No, it's alright," he interrupted her immediately. He had just been taken aback by the sudden question, but he soon realised that it was probably a genuine one. She had revealed to him that her sexual experience was pretty limited, so this was a natural question to ask. And as he had promised, he would help her understand things better wherever he could. She had already shared her first time with him and since then, they had been exploring more and more new things.

"It's basically that when a guy comes, he just comes all over someone else's face," he explained simply, but could feel the heat in his cheeks anyway. He would be lying if he said he had never imagined doing that to his beautiful girlfriend.

"Oh," she replied, looking at him with a curious expression. She liked the idea of it, she really did. There was a tingling between her legs at the thought of giving Harry a blowjob and letting the man come all over her face. It felt like a dirty, secret fantasy, but she wanted to make it reality.

"Can you do that for me?"

Harry stared at her with wide eyes again. He couldn't quite believe what he had heard. Of course, he would love to do that for her, but he also didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't ready for yet. On the other hand, she had asked him directly about it and seemed pretty determined too.

"Are you sure?" He asked slowly, but was already walking towards her. He could see her eyes light up when he was standing next to her.

"Very sure. I wanna know what it's like," she assured him before she patted the spot on the couch next to her. Harry sat down eventually, looking over at his girlfriend. The curious look in her eyes somehow made this situation even more thrilling. She seemed so eager, almost desperate.

Her hand moved over his thigh, getting closer to that spot between his legs, putting slow pressure onto it. She could feel Harry growing slowly, a groan escaping the man's throat. "Y/N," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust as he looked over at her again. He wanted her so badly.

She slowly slid off the couch, kneeling down in front of him between his spread legs. Her fingers found his zipper and slowly pulled it down. Harry lifted himself off the couch for a moment to allow her to pull down his pants and then his underwear.

Seeing him naked in front of her, in all his glory, always send a rush of desire towards her core. As she wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping slowly, she could feel him get harder and bigger with time. Her boyfriend threw his head back, moans leaving his mouth continuously. "Shit," he whispered, his hand grabbing the cushion next to him.

She started to move her hand faster. The sight of his cock was always mouth-watering for her. He was big and the veins so prominent. So she moved forward and ran her tongue over the underside of his shaft, watching Harry shiver at the touch.

She placed a kiss on his tip before parting her lips for him, taking him into her mouth. Her hand was holding onto his thigh as she started to move her head up and down, tongue swirling around him. His moans were urging her on. She increased her pace and she knew it was working when Harry's hands buried in her hair, tugging on it to pull her up and down on his cock. He was fucking her face by now and she could feel herself getting even more wet. She needed him. And she needed to feel him come.

"Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, giving her hair a more firm tug as he pulled her off his length. She was already waiting excitedly for what was about to happen.

Harry pumped his cock again a few times, eyes fluttering shut and back open, until he finally reached the edge. A loud moan left him again as he started to come all over her face.

She closed her eyes for a second, but opened her mouth almost instinctively, licking off the cum that had landed on her lips. She took the time to wipe the cum off her cheek and then lick her fingers clean.

Harry groaned again at the sight, pulling her closer to press his lips against hers.

He knew he would give her a lot more facials from now on. And he was grateful for her curiosity.

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lowkeychenle · 11 months

Text

Empire State of Mind [PJS/LMK] (M)

Description: Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him.

Genre: Angst/SLIGHT fluff (like you REALLY have to squint)/SMUT

Content Warnings: LOTS OF rough, explicit unprotected sex (don't do this LOL), counter sex, car sex, use of pet name 'Princess' (Jisung), use of pet name 'pretty girl' (Mark), INFIDELITY (reader), do not read if infidelity is a trigger for you or if it pisses you off. It pisses me off too, I just like drama. Also, neither man knows the other exists so do with that what you will.

Word Count: 7,158

Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader // Mark Lee x Reader

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Author's Note: Is this what I'm supposed to be working on? no of course not, however, I do think this is pretty good so no one judge, also HELLO FIRST JISUNG FIC??????? AM I OKAY (no)

In a city as busy as this one, it’s normal to wake up to music playing loudly outside. The not-so-gentle melodies flood through the window, the faint lyrics of Empire State of Mind just barely enough to pull you out of your slumber.

Things weren’t like this before. You remember a time, somehow far off, where you were happy. When simple things like this didn’t bother you. When waking up meant you woke up next to him, too.

Now you’re next to another, but it’s not the same. It’s never the same.

Days blend together. Weeks become months. Honestly, you have a good relationship with Jisung. He’s loving. He takes care of you. Loves you in ways you’ve never been loved before. But something is different. You didn’t start out comparing him to your ex—even though you don’t call him that.

Mark is more than an ex. He’s the first person you truly loved, so of course, it’s normal for him to have a place in your heart, right?

Even two years after your break up, however not-painful it was, you find it’s hard to go an entire day without thinking of Mark. You sit on your shared couch with Jisung, playing with his hair while his head rests in your lap, and you’ll be thinking of him. The movie passes by as unwelcomed background noise.

When your eyes flutter open, you groan and blink a couple times, seeing the city skyline on the horizon. You’re far up here, but you’ve never felt more at rock bottom than you have lately. Maybe it’s the gradual descent into perpetual sadness that has you clinging to Mark. Maybe it has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with who you were when you were with him.

Jisung’s arm is slung over your waist, but his soft snores tell you he’s still fast asleep. The extensive noise of the city bustling around on a Saturday morning doesn’t bother him in the slightest. You gently remove his grip on you, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor is cold against your feet, but you welcome the feeling.

It is a feeling, after all. You don’t get very many of those lately.

The full length mirror sits directly across from you. Jisung has insisted you two find a better place for it, but the tiny apartment doesn’t exactly give you many options. You stare at your frazzled hair, at the way the sun gleams off your skin.

You look tired. Sad. Like life is passing you by. And at this point, it really is.

Jisung is good to you. He makes you happy, but the happiness you feel with him always seems…temporary.

Sighing to yourself, you get out of bed, grab a pair of shorts from your clean laundry basket, and tug them up your legs. Jisung’s T-shirt sits too large on your frame, and as you brush your teeth, you take notes of the subtle marks he left on the conjunction of your neck and shoulder from last night.

He’s a good lover. An even better boyfriend, but everything is so monotone. The world has been drained around you, and the only thing you can blame is him.

You run a brush through your hair, and then you put your shoes on. One thing that’ll always make you feel better is sunshine, even though there’s a slight lack of it in the city due to the high-rise buildings lining the street. You pay them little attention. As you leave your apartment, head into the elevator, and eventually make your way to your freedom, you take a deep breath of air.

You don’t know how life became bland. No part of it makes sense to you, but you don’t fight it. How can you fight it? Instead, you let it engulf you, and you know Jisung is hurting because of it. You wonder how long he’ll be able to put up with it.

Walking through crowds of people somehow relaxes you, as you know you’re nobody to all of them. Not a single person around you expects anything of you. In a world full of disappointment, expectations, and emotions, it’s nice to be a small speck of dust on a much wider spectrum.

You find your usual coffee shop, pushing the door open and waiting in the little line that’s accumulated. After you order, you wait off to the side, frowning when you feel your phone vibrating. Looking down at your screen, you recognize your friend, Jiyoon, is calling you.

“Hey,” you answer, putting the phone between your shoulder and your ear. “What’s up?”

“I’m so sorry,” she starts off quickly. “I wasn’t supposed to work today and they just hit me with this giant assignment, I can’t do coffee today.”

She’s already late. Not that it matters.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “(Y/N), seriously. You know I love you, and if I didn’t have to do all of this bullshit, I’d never miss out on one of our coffee dates.”

“It’s fine.” You nod, accepting your drink from the barista with a smile. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright! I’ll make it up to you. I’m buying next time.”

“Ah, yes, thank you for offering to pay for my three dollar coffee, that’s quite an extravagant—” Your smile falls as you turn around to exit. The sight almost has you dropping your cup, too. “I gotta go.”

You scramble to hang up your phone as you make eye contact. It’s been at least a year since you’d seen him last, but he still looks the same. Mark’s eyebrows slightly furrow as he recognizes you, his head tilted to the side. And that’s when a smile breaks out on his face. The smile that still has your heart plummeting into the depths of your stomach. Attached to the man that you spend everyday thinking about.

Your lips part, almost as if you’d be bold enough to say something, but you snap them shut equally as fast. You have no idea what he thinks about you, what he must be feeling at this moment, but your relationship didn’t end horribly.

Things weren’t right. You both wanted different things.

“Wow,” he says, resting the small of his back against one of the booths. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

You’re speechless. How do you say anything to him, when he’s as perfect as he was, and the remnants of the past explode across your mind like fireworks? Your heartbeat is much faster than normal, hands fidgeting. What the hell are you supposed to do?

“Sorry, was that bad?” Mark scrunches up his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, not bad.” You shake your head. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you today.” Or ever.

“Honestly, I usually take a different way to work, but I put the first coffee shop I could find into my GPS.” He shrugs.

“I see you still try to brave the big bad city with a car, huh?” A real, genuine smile tugs at your lips.

He bites back a laugh. “Not as much as I used to.”

“Ah, so some improvement has been made,” you tease him. The tone of your voice surprises you, as you actually sound light-hearted. When’s the last time you spoke to someone this way?

“You know what they say. Time does wonders.” He tugs his fingers through his hair.

“Well,” you begin, dropping your hand against your side. “It was nice seeing you, Mark. Really. I’ve gotta get back.”

“Right, of course.” He nods and gestures toward the door. “I don’t mean to keep you.”

You sip your coffee and make your way past him, and as you reach out for the door, you hear his voice again.

“(Y/N)?” He waits to continue until you look at him. “My number’s still the same, in case you wanted to catch up.”

You shouldn’t want to. Jisung gives you everything you could ever ask for, and even strives to be better every day. He brings you home flowers, he cooks for you. Even after all that, you’re thinking about how nice it would be to be in contact with the man in front of you again. Mark was everything to you at one point, and now you’re meant to feel that way for Jisung.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you give him a warm grin, turn, and leave the coffee shop behind. As embarrassing as it is, you do have his contact saved. And you know he wants to hear from you, so it’s only going to make this nagging feeling worse.

As you walk back down the sidewalk, a new sort of happiness is awoken. For the first time in a long time, you finally feel like yourself again. You’re practically skipping down the street. When you get home, Jisung’s in the kitchen, leaning on the island while he finishes his buttered toast and takes a drink of his water.

He regards you warmly as soon as he sees you. “You left early this morning.”

“Sorry, Ji,” you say, approaching him and kissing his cheek. “I woke up pretty late and wanted to make sure you’re getting rest.”

His arm wraps around your waist and tugs you flush against him. He delicately chews on his bottom lip as he scans over you. There’s so much love contained in his pretty brown eyes, you find yourself wishing you could get lost in them.

“Have I ever told you how good you look in my clothes?” he hums, tugging the bottom hem of the T-shirt.

“Maybe once or twice.” You beam and tilt your head to the side. “I think I look better when it’s off, though.”

The shock is clear on his face—between the way his eyebrows jump upward and the slight parting of his lips. You never say things like that to him. Typically, you wait for Jisung to initiate, and he’s most likely always written it off as you being shy.

You’ve never had a problem being attracted to Jisung, so sex isn’t your issue. He reaches spots inside you you never thought possible, and he seems to know what you want before even you do. And as you hoist yourself up on the counter, you wonder if your sudden craving for Jisung has anything to do with him at all. Guilt pangs briefly, but the second he’s between your legs with his gray sweats sitting low on his hips, you fend off any sort of bad feelings.

Jisung chuckles, cupping your cheek and stroking it with his thumb. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“Is it so wrong to want my boyfriend?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, tracing your finger down his chest. “I’m just wondering what it’s gonna take to get you to fuck me on the counter.”

“If this is how you’re gonna come home to me, I’m sending you out with Jiyoon more often.” He wastes no more time, leaning in to kiss you. You sigh against his lips, rolling your hips toward him.

You feel him starting to harden through his sweatpants. His hands move down to your thighs, his long fingers gripping you roughly as he pulls you to the edge. You secure your legs around him, grinding the growing heat between your thighs against his length. He lets out a quiet groan and thrusts toward you.

“Fuck me like this, Ji,” you whisper, kissing down his neck. “Just like this.”

“I gotta take these off.” He tugs at the bottom hem of your shorts, leaning his head back.

“Takes too long.” You shake your head and nip on his skin. “Please.”

His breath shudders, and before you know it, his hand pushes the fabric aside, touching along your entrance through your panties.

“Shit, princess, you’re so wet,” he groans and presses against you, fingers grazing your clit.

You rub along his clothed length, squeezing him and shuffling closer to him. At the end of the day, you know Jisung deserves better than this, but the second he moves the sticky fabric covering you to the side, any regret or guilt fades quickly. You can’t see him taking his cock out of his pants, but you note the way a sharp breath passes through his lips and his gaze darkens when he jerks himself slowly.

He lines up with you, tip already applying pressure, and kisses you roughly before pushing inside. You tighten your legs around him, head falling back against the cupboards at the sensation. He’s already throbbing, the thickness of his length stretching you to your limits. Reaching up, you grip his hair and roll your hips.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, gently rocking back and forth. “Hear that, princess? So fucking wet, I’m sliding right in.”

As soon as he deems you adjusted to him, he thrusts. His cock rubbing against your walls at this pace has you trying to find something to hold onto to ground you. Your mind is completely blank other than your pleasure.

And when your eyes roll back and you close them, the last thing you expect is to see Mark through the darkness. Oh, God, if you weren’t in such heaven right now, you’d feel horrible. Between the slick sounds of your wetness, his thickness stretching you to your limits, and the soft grunts falling from his lips, you allow your brain to put the other man in Jisung’s place. As long as you’re staring at the back of your eyelids, it’s Mark fucking you on the counter.

And for some reason, that thought has you skyrocketing toward your high. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and like he knows what that means, his hand reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit with ease. Your hips jolt, the feeling borderline too much for you.

With Mark on your mind, you finish so much faster than you usually do.

You even have to bite your lip to stop his name from escaping you. Instead, you force Jisung’s out, whining as your vision blurs. He fucks you through your orgasm before his own pace becomes erratic. He lets out a long moan, and one more thrust has him spilling deep inside you.

Finally meeting his gaze, you give him a fucked-out smile, wishing away how bad you feel about imagining your ex fucking you instead of your boyfriend.

He kisses you sweetly, humming. “What spurred this on?”

“You just…look really good today,” you mumble and press your lips to the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He grins and gently pulls out of you.

After he adjusts himself in his pants, he scoops you up off the counter, bringing you to your shared bedroom. He cleans you up with a towel, but not without admiring the way his load leaks out of you.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jisung says, grabbing you a new pair of panties and shorts.

“What’s that?” you ask, accepting the new items and changing into them.

“What do you think about getting married?” he whispers, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I mean, in general. Nothing definitive with us, but I just want to see where your head is at before I get ahead of myself, you know?”

You should’ve expected it, honestly. With the couple years you two have been together and the way you’re not getting any younger, you’re more than sure his parents have been pressuring him into marrying you. Your heart sinks further in your chest when your mind immediately jumps back to Mark.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it,” you tell him.

It’s not entirely a lie. You’ve just never thought about marrying him.

“Would being married to me be a bad thing?” he continues, gaze scanning over your face for any sign of emotion.

“No, of course not.” You shake your head, rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “Nothing about you is bad, Sung.”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that.”

The pang of hurt flashes across his features so quickly, you almost miss it. He recollects himself, as if he wants to hide the emotions from you in the first place.

You’re sure after that, everything will return to normal. For a while, you hoped the sighting of Mark and its effect on you were a one-time thing, if not for your sake, then for Jisung’s. It’d crush him to learn how much Mark’s presence threw you off course.

Things almost worked out in your favor. Almost.

Until you went back to that coffee shop and saw him again. It was odd that you’d gone so long without seeing Mark, and now he’s suddenly in your favorite place in the city almost every time you’re there.

It has to be on purpose, but the last thing you’ll do is correct him.

The second time you saw him, you stayed to talk to him a bit longer. You somehow convinced yourself you weren’t doing anything wrong, considering he was the one showing up to see you.

After the third time, you caved and began texting him. You weren’t sure if he knew about Jisung, but you never brought it up. All you were doing was talking—there’s nothing wrong with talking to Mark, right?

Maybe that would have been the case if you told Jisung about him. If you’d told him that you were texting someone else daily, almost instantaneous replies. But every day you physically saw Mark, it awakened something in you.

But it’s okay because you never planned to see him…right?

Jisung was still in bed when you got back from getting coffee. He smiled at you as you walked in, and when you tossed your phone aside and straddled his lap, he didn’t even hesitate. Something about seeing Mark had your insides turning, and Jisung was an outlet. It didn’t help that every time you closed your eyes, you pictured Mark filling you instead of Jisung. It got worse and worse as time went on.

You sink down on Jisung’s length, throaty groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your waist. Giving yourself a few moments to adjust, you let yourself loose after that. You ride him desperately, the feeling of him deep within your walls making you delirious. He didn’t even need to guide you, your excitement allowing you to ignore the ache in your thighs as your wetness drips down them.

Jisung has no idea what’s gotten into you lately, but he fucking loves it. He’d gotten used to the way things were, and seeing you take charge and want him was doing things to him, too. You’d had more sex in the past few weeks than you had in the months prior, and Jisung was living for it.

But he doesn’t know.

God, it should make you feel bad, but at this point, all it does is send another burst of wetness down your thighs. He reaches behind you and squeezes your ass, watching you in a form of awe as your tits bounce in his face and your nails leave crescent-shaped imprints on his shoulders.

You close your eyes, imagining it’s Mark’s fingers connecting with your clit. Mark’s cock fucking into you as you sink down. Mark’s face contorted in pleasure. The sight in your brain is enough to have you shattering, your orgasm ripping through you at an impossible intensity. You scream, Jisung—Mark—sitting up just in time to catch your crumbling body.

He thrusts two more times before he’s filling you to the brim, chest heaving as he cradles you to him. Gently scratching up and down your back, he kisses your temple.

You’ve been insatiable lately, but you can’t deny how much better life has been. Mark has made your life better, even with short conversations and texts. Not to mention the guilt has all but disappeared. There’s no harm in talking.

You pull back to kiss Jisung, a quick peck on his lips while you grin widely. “I’m gonna shower. Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He chuckles. “Have fun, my love.”

You grab new clothes and your phone and head toward the bathroom, sending one more smile his way over your shoulder before you lock the door behind you.

The next morning, you’re awoken by the pleasant surprise of Jisung’s head between your thighs. You weave your fingers through his hair. While he’s under the blanket, he’s Mark. And that thought makes everything melt around you.

“Wh—what are you doing?” you breathe out as his tongue flicks your clit.

“You’ve been so good to me lately, princess,” Jisung mumbles against your thigh. He nips your skin. “Figured I’d return the favor.”

You shouldn’t let him, but the way his mouth works expertly against you has any logical thought escaping you at a record speed.

So, instead, you close your eyes and pretend the man between your legs is the one you’re yearning for, and you fade into the pleasure. You grind up against his face, chasing a high that’s never too far off when Mark is on your mind.

This goes on for months. As much as you hate to admit it, you see Mark at least three times a week. You’re not the one going out of your way to see him, and you’re not setting up meetings, so it’s still okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Jisung wouldn’t even be mad at you.

Things start to fall apart for you when your perfect illusion of everything crumbles. When Mark begins asking to see you, and you still oblige. You make excuses to Jisung about why you’re out more, saying Jiyoon invites you over. He never questions you. Jisung trusts you, and you use that to your advantage.

Being around Mark erases the uniformity of life, and the monotonous days are far, far gone. He makes you feel alive again. Like you can do anything, and like happiness isn’t too far out of reach.

You love Jisung. You love the way he treats you and you’re happy with him, but something’s missing. That something is this—the brief time you spend with Mark, as innocent as it may be. He never touches you or tries to kiss you or anything like that, you just sit and talk. Your soul has always vibed with Mark’s. Something about him has every part of you alive and thriving.

Mark lives in the same apartment building. When he invited you over, you were hesitant. You walk in with the resolve that it’ll be like any other time you’ve seen him, that being alone instead of in public won’t change the way you interact with him.

He hugs you, and you nearly melt into the scent of his all-too-familiar cologne. You’re surprised by the way you want to linger. This whole time, you thought your feelings and actions with Mark were innocent, and that they didn’t affect the way you were with Jisung. The slightest warm touch from the tips of Mark’s fingers are almost enough to send shivers up your spine, almost enough to ignite a fire in the pit of your stomach.

Why are you here? Why did you agree to go to his place?

He hands you a glass of wine before sitting on his couch. You join him, sitting on the opposite end. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you’re seconds away from telling him about Jisung.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Mark says, swirling his wine. “Like this, I mean. You’ve always looked good in here.”

You sip the red liquid. “You’re just saying that.”

“Not true. Walking away from you was a mistake, (Y/N). It’s been years and I still think about you and how hard you tried. I’m really sorry I wasn’t enough back then.” He scoots closer to you, dangerously close. His scent infiltrates your last barrier, and his brows pinch as he scans over your face.

“Mark.” You let out a weak chuckle. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Even if I mean them?”

“Especially if you mean them.”

His chest deflates. He purses his lips and gulps. “How else do I tell you I want you? We could be like we were before. Better, even.”

Your heart races in your chest. You scramble for words, knowing you should shut him down immediately, but nothing comes out. You don’t want to.

Jisung. You have to think of Jisung, and you have to get the hell out of Mark’s apartment. Jisung would be hurt if you entertained this. The talking he could handle. He’d brush it off without a worry, but this? You being so close to another man and aching to—

“Don’t you agree?”

“Mark…” Yes. You agree. You’ve never agreed with something more, but you can’t. You can’t.

“What’s holding you back?” He grabs your glass from you and sets both on the coffee table before coming back, cupping your cheek with that warm fucking hand. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you again.”

“M-Mark…” That steel wall suddenly becomes kinetic sand, and it’s crumbling fast.

“You wouldn’t have come here if at least some part of you didn’t want me.” His thumb strokes your skin.

Your chest constricts, and right when you feel the last brick tumble, your phone vibrates in your pocket. Springing away from Mark, you grab the device and look at the screen.

Jisung: hope you’re having fun with jiyoon! i’m going to sleep. love and miss you

Tears well in your eyes and you jolt up off the couch, tugging your fingers through your hair. Mark follows you, reaching out for your wrist. You jerk your arm away and shake your head.

“I need to go.”

As you rush out of his building, everything hits you all at once. Everything you’ve been doing is wrong. Talking to Mark at all should never have happened, especially without Jisung’s knowledge. You’re barely able to breathe by the time you make it to your car. You rest your head against the metal. If you hadn’t left when you did, you would’ve caved. Who knows what would’ve happened? Would you have slept with Mark?

Right before you get in, Mark is behind you, grabbing you and turning you to look at him. You gasp, but as soon as your lips are parted, his mouth is on yours. Instantaneously, you melt, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you’re surprised by how right it feels. It makes the guilt you were feeling disappear once more.

Suddenly, Jisung doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just you and Mark, and the craving for him you’ve always had. You whine into his mouth, and the next thing you know, his jacket falls to the cement with a quiet plop. Pulling away from him, you stare in shock, stunned you would even do something like that.

“Come back upstairs,” he whispers, panting. “I need you so fucking bad.”

“In the car,” you say. “Get in the car.”

His eyes darken, and he steps back to open the backseat for you. He glances around before following, and then you lock the doors. Climbing on top of you, he kisses you gently. Mark has always fit perfectly between your legs, and you were convinced back then that he’d been made just for you, and having him in this position again makes you start to think that again.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, soft gaze trailing over your face.

You reach up and trace along his cheek, humming when the faint blue light of the night around you two shrouds him in a graceful hue. He’s the only thing on your mind. The only thing that matters.

He grips your leg and lifts it over his hip. Pinning it to the seat, his hand trails under your skirt, tapping gently along your thighs. The simple touch sets you on fire, and you know your panties are embarrassingly soaked and only getting worse. You’ve never needed someone like you need Mark Lee.

He rubs you through the lace, sighing. “Fuck, I knew you wanted me, pretty girl. So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Do something.” You seal your fate with those words, but when he slides the fabric aside and slides his fingers inside you, you don’t even have time to think of the consequences. He catches your whine in his mouth. The slow pace drives you crazy.

Slick sounds fill the car, and you’re glad he left your skirt on. It’ll hopefully stop too much from getting onto the upholstery.

“Mark.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “I need you right now.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, and once he retracts his hand away from you, you hear the tell-tale sound of him unbuckling his belt. You hear the zipper and him pushing down the fabric, and the next thing you know, his cock is lining up with your entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your cheek, your forehead, and then the tip of your nose. “We can take things slow.”

“Please,” you say. “Please.”

You moan as he slowly pushes inside, and you relish in the fact that you don’t have to close your eyes to see him. This really is Mark on top of you, really the one between your legs, and the one who’s stretching you to your limits.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, rocking his hips gently.

He stops when he’s completely seated inside you, the feeling already making your thighs shake. His hips push against yours, and you wish more than anything you could be naked and in his bed. He’s so deep in you, your head lolls back and you push up toward him.

You repeatedly whisper his name, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him down to kiss you. Despite the situation, it’s been so long since someone made love to you. Your activities lately had all been rough with quick endings. Mark gives you time to enjoy him inside you while he gets lost in the constant flutter of your walls around his still cock. He doesn’t move. All he does is kiss you, the motion sweet and soft.

When he pulls back, you whine both from the slide of his throbbing length against your walls and the loss of him so deep. He intertwines your fingers, smiling as he truly begins. His pace is slow, but mind blowing nonetheless. You feel every inch of him, every twitch once he’s buried inside.

You’re floating on a cloud, gripping his hand like your life depends on it. It’s rewarding, as if everything you’ve gone through in your life has led you to this moment, to this backseat with Mark.

This is what you’re missing. Life has been off because you don’t have Mark, and now you know you can do anything. All you need is him.

He sits up on his knees, pulling you closer by your hips. With one hand gripping you firmly, the other moves to rub circles on your sensitive clit. His thumb teases you, and then his thrusts pick up speed. He’s proven how he feels, and both of you are ready to finish even if you never truly want this to end.

You hold onto the seat, but every thrust has your head smacking into the door. It has your mind whirling and your high looming scarily close. Your back arches as you shatter around him, and a scream pours from your mouth. He curses, hips stuttering before his hand slams into the window. The glass is fogged, and as his palm slides down, a squeak follows.

He pushes deeper, so, so deep, before spilling his load inside you.

You sit there with Mark a bit longer than you should. Once he pulls out of you, you truly realize what you’ve done. You kiss him, letting him know you have to get home. He tries to clean you up the best he can, but you reassure him you’ll be okay. With one last kiss, he leaves you alone in your backseat after you promise you’ll text him.

You lay there for a moment, tears pricking your eyes as you slap a hand over your mouth. Jisung will take this car to work tomorrow. The back smells of sex, Mark’s hand print is on the window. Your skirt is most likely ruined, not to mention the lace of your panties. Another man’s cum drips from your entrance while your boyfriend is sound asleep at home.

You drive yourself home in discomfort, quickly doing all you can to get rid of any evidence. The windows are down on the way back, the cool air doing little to help you. You fix your hair as much as possible once you’re parked. Straighten out your skirt. Check the mirror to see if your makeup is smudged. You wipe the excess lipstick, tears flooding down your cheeks. How could you let this happen? Everything was innocent. Nothing was supposed to happen with Mark.

When you walk into your apartment, all the lights are off. You have to walk through your bedroom to get to the bathroom, and you desperately need a shower. Quietly, you try to get through your bedroom without waking the peaceful, sleeping Jisung. He’s innocent in all of this. He deserves better, but you won’t tell him. You can’t hurt him like that.

Right as you think you’ll make it to the bathroom, he stirs. Luckily, he can’t see your state through the dark.

“Hi, baby,” he hums, voice thick with sleep.

“Hi, Ji.” You try your best to hide anything other than neutrality. “I’m just getting in the shower before bed.”

“You’re not gonna kiss me first?”

If you don’t, he’ll find it weird. He may even wake up fully and figure you out in an instant.

If you do, the guilt will tear you apart limb from limb. How could you kiss Jisung right after Mark’s tongue was in your mouth?

“Sorry.” You fake a chuckle. “Of course I will.”

You make your way over to his side of the bed and lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips. He closes his eyes and smiles at you, intertwining his fingers with yours, the same ones that latched with Mark’s a mere half an hour earlier.

“I’m so glad you’re going out and having fun,” he mutters. “Love you, babe.”

Your breath hitches. “I love you, too, Ji. Always.”

You get in the shower, furiously scrubbing your skin as if it’ll erase your actions. Silently, you cry until the tears no longer form. You sit on the tile, legs clutched to your chest as you rock back and forth.

This is all your fault. You let it get this far, and now Jisung will be the one to face the consequences for it.

Unless…

Unless he never finds out.

You’ll stop talking to Mark, and it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Jisung will never know, and you can continue your life with him as it has been.

You calm yourself down, get out of the shower, and get in bed with Jisung.

Even then, you wish it was Mark.

The next morning, Jisung goes to work before you wake up. Your resolve to ignore Mark fails as soon as he texts you. Mark is everything you’ve ever wanted or needed, and regardless of anyone’s feelings, you feel an overwhelming connection to him. But you can’t leave Jisung. You just can’t.

Over the course of the next few months, you continue to see Mark when you can, and Jisung stays unaware. There are some nights where you sleep with Mark, and then come home and sleep with Jisung. Oddly enough, your life feels complete this way. Everything is good, and the guilt of sleeping with another didn’t last. Jisung doesn’t know about Mark, and Mark doesn’t know about Jisung.

Or so you thought.

A few months with both isn’t long enough for you, but one night, when you go to Mark’s, you’re not expecting to find Jisung awake when you get home. Not only is he awake, but all the lights are on, and he’s sitting at the kitchen table. You frown, setting your purse down.

“You’re not in bed?”

“No, (Y/N), I’m not.” His face is cold, not a single emotion portrayed. “Where were you?”

“I was with Jiy—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Your heart sinks, and you let out a shuddering breath. You’ve been so careful. How did he find out?

“I…” You gulp, fists clenching at your sides.

“Who’s Mark?” That one question has your world burning down in flames, and the tears well in your eyes before you can stop them.

“Ji…”

“Don’t lie to spare my feelings.” He laughs bitterly. “I’ve seen the texts. Not to mention the fact Jiyoon told me a while ago that she hasn’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, and a tear rolls down your cheek. “I’m so sorry, Ji, I really never wanted it to go this far—”

“What the fuck did you think would happen?” He scoffs, hands slamming against the table. “What did you honestly think talking to a random fucking guy would turn into? Clearly, you had some sort of idea because you never said a damn word about it to me.”

“I’ve just been…I was sad, okay? Everything was so boring, and—”

“Oh, right, so you cheating on me for months is because I’m boring you. Got it.” His jaw quivers, but he quickly sets it. “And what is it, exactly, about him that gets you so fucking excited?”

You’re silent, but more tears pour down your face.

“Now you want to be shy? You want to feel remorse? Answer the fucking question. What could he possibly fucking have that I don’t?”

“It’s not like that, Ji, you’re not lacking.” You approach the table. “I’m so fucking sorry, none of this is your fault.”

He holds his hand up to stop you from getting closer to him. “Something else I noticed. You know, I wondered what had gotten into you before, when you would get home and immediately jump on my dick. It was unlike you, but looking back after reading those texts, the dates are just…oddly similar.”

“That’s not fair—”

“No, (Y/N), what’s not fair is learning how my girlfriend has been f—” His voice breaks, but he shakes his head and continues, quieter this time. “How my girlfriend has been fucking someone else behind my back because she finds me boring.”

“Please, let me fix this. I need you, okay?”

“No.” He wets his lips, taking a deep breath. “I was a little skeptical at first when Mark came up to me, you know. Didn’t want to believe you could do something like that. But then he showed me the texts. All the times you told him you love being with him. In a few months, you were ready to tell him you wanted to marry him, but after two years with me, you’re not ready?”

You open your mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity.

“The texts before you got physical with him were all reminiscing about your past relationship, and how much you miss it. How much you wish you could have it again, your life’s so bland, blah, blah, blah.” He chews on his bottom lip, hurt finally showing in the swirls of his brown eyes. “All my stuff is gone already. I wanted to tell you that I at least had the decency to leave you instead of leading you on while I fucked someone else. When I walk out of that door, I don’t want you to fucking text me or call me or anything. I want nothing to do with you anymore.”

“Jisung, please…”

“Go ask Mark. You’ve apparently asked him for everything else the past few months. Although, I don’t think he’ll be too keen on answering you either.” Jisung stands, palms still flat on the table. “I fucking gave you everything, and you think it’s boring. And I hope you realize everything you’ve just given up.”

He reaches into his pocket and tosses a small, black box on the table.

“I bought that months ago. Months ago. You can keep it. Not like I have any fucking use for it anymore.” He leaves you standing in shock as he walks to the door and puts his hand on the knob. “Fuck you. I hope the rest of your existence is even a fraction of how miserable I feel right now. I deserve better than this.”

As he slams it shut behind him, you fall to your knees. Tears pour down your face. Mark told Jisung? How did Mark even find out about Jisung? Why would he do that to you?

You pull your phone out of your pocket, frantically typing out a message to Mark. It doesn’t even reach delivered status. You call him one, two, three times, and each one immediately sends you to voicemail. Time passes as you sob to yourself against the hardwood, but you’re unsure how long you’re truly there for.

You’re not sure which hurts worse—the sting of Jisung’s words or Mark being the one who told him everything.

You eventually make it to your feet, and you grab the black box. When you open it, more tears fall. Jisung asked you how you felt about marriage because he wanted to marry you. He’d bought a ring before that conversation, and he’d been holding onto it ever since.

You ruined him. You chewed him up and spit him out all in the name of keeping Mark in your life.

And now, they’re both gone.

That night, you crawl into bed—the one that still smells of Jisung and his cologne—and stare at the ceiling while you sob. Despite him telling you not to, you also try texting and calling Jisung, but those don’t go through either. Even Jiyoon doesn’t answer.

You don’t sleep. You can’t.

And as the sun rises and light infiltrates your windows, so do the faint lyrics of Empire State of Mind.

This time, there’s no Jisung. There’s no Mark. No arm around your waist, no plans to go get coffee. Your face hurts from crying so much, and it hits you then: you did this to yourself. Nobody’s at fault except for you, and you must reap what you sow.

Maybe life was boring before, but at least you hadn’t been alone.

As more tears form, you stare at the ceiling and whisper an apology to Jisung, words he’ll never hear.

He’s gone.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #park jisung #mark smut #mark angst #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jisung smut #jisung angst #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct angst

254 notes · View notes

wayfayrr · 4 months

Note

The Menace returns! And you choose Trauma so this is not a Link!Reader but someone who caused a trauma to someone else.

Here we go to the person that SCARRED our Vet to beyond belief. Marin!Reader and now I finally could write it down as I didn't want to make it a second dream section with all of the Chain as they all would be scarred for life and well, Legend would want to die. So and thanks to Gliphy I got the perfect idea with Marin!Reader.

They were the Marin on Koholint, so they are Legend's first love!

They live but just in a different world entirely. (My own theory on that)

They still remember Legend and hope he is doing well.

They still sing to animals and people.

After Legend finds them, he is at first suspicious. It could be a trap from the Shadow.

But his brain couldn't stop him from rushing to their side and holding them in his arms again.

They are a sweetheart and are holding Legends with such care when they sing him a lullaby.

The Vet will not be able to sleep without them in his arms anymore.

Their weapon is the Sea Lily Bell and Awakening Bell like in Hyrule Warriors.

The Chain is stunned and confused how a person with such a soft voice and delicate body fight monsters like a knight and with a bell no less.

I believe that there are two groups in the Yandere Chain.

Group one will be the one's that have practically a suffocating possessiveness and are overprotective. In the group is Legend, Twilight, Wild, Four and surprisingly Sky.

Before you scream, let me explain.

I think, that Sky would be possessive despite the usual Headcanons BECAUSE he lost Zelda during his journey multiple times.

Once she was led away from him by Impa, then she disappeared into a portal into the past, then she sealed herself into a crystal for that seal on Demise and lastly she almost lost her soul because of Ghirahim. Yeah, no way in hell you can tell me, that he wouldn't be overprotective and possessive over his darling after these stunts.

The second group is overbearing and/or cautious of Reader, not because they don't trust them.

No! They are cautious about the people around Reader.

Reader has a bleeding heart and would try to help anyone they found. Nevermind if it's a enemy or an ally.

This group has Wars, Time, Four (again) and Hyrule in it.

I hope everyone of them is self-explanatory.

Legend sees them as his future spouse. He knew them the longest! And has a history with them!

So he even sees the Chain as enemy, especially Wars.

But he would never kidnap them, he knew how they felt about being caged as he met them on Koholint.

But he talks smack about the Chain.

So he is more trustworthy than the others. So he stands in a better light than the others. So they fell rather in love with him than any of the other eight heroes. So they run into his arms if they got scared.

He gave them a ring, of course a magical one. But it's more than that, he wears the second one of them and as long as they both wear this specific ring, Legend is able to find them.

Legend is also clingy, very clingy.

Wars has to adapt plans so the Vet sees Reader. Because if he doesn't, he will go nuts.

He will use every trick he has in his sleeves to find them and if the others die in the process, he doesn't fucking care.

If Reader is tucking Wind into bed like an older sibling would and singing him a lullaby. Legend is so jealous but at the same time, he sees Reader with his and their children. So the jealousy disappears and he just watches them with Wind with fond eyes while daydreaming.

Sky teached them lyrics from his era, so they sing to him as he plays his harp.

Twilight has the time of his life as Wolfie, they sing to him, pet him, forehead kisses.

Bunny!Legend got it even better, he is very smug about it. Reader will carry him, pet him, kiss his nose, take care of his vest, protect him from Wild and if they are in an inn while Legend is a bunny, they will sleep with him in a bed and held him close to their chest.

They even bath together.

He thanked every existing deity, that Reader didn't know he was the bunny or he would die, happy but he dies.

Just because he saw them naked, something nobody of the Chain did only him.

Wars first, tries to find out how Legend was back then as they met but after falling in love he write poetry for them and they write with him song lyrics of ballads.

Time knows them from the War of Eras and is embarrassed to see them. Let's just say, Reader treated him like a child and never left his side through the whole war. But now he only sees the perfect parent in them.

They switch with Wild so he could sleep longer every once in a while and they cook breakfast in the meantime.

Hyrule sees how much the Vet loves their singer. But as a Fae he got drawn in and is always near them when they sing.

Four asks about the Bells as they are a strange weapon choice.

Their song is "Celestial" from Ed Sheeran.

How they met.

Legend's PoV:

We walked around my Hyrule, inside a forest to be more specific. We wandered through it and didn't found any monsters but there were little puddles and footprints inside the mud. So we followed the track until we found a person lying on the ground. All except for me run to the Hylian. Their blue clothes were so familiar like their hair and as they turned the person around. So we could see their face. I could see a red island flower in their hair and I saw a face of someone I thought would never see again. My brain cried out, that it could be a trap from the shadow but my feet just started to sprint to them. I ripped them from the hands of one of the others and held them close to my chest. I knew, that my house was near. So I picked them up and carried them to my home. The others just followed me and were calling out to me not to be reckless and even my brain still screamed that this was a trap but my body moved on it's own. I carried Reader into my house and laid them in my bed before tucking them under the covers. I didn't care if my bed got muddy or anything. I grabbed a chair and sat myself beside them. They had some cuts and bruises but nothing serious, thank The Golden Three for that. I held their hand in mine and even kissed their knuckles as I ignored the group who questioned me and my motives to bring "a stranger" into my house. My Love stirred and I felt a little more force as they squeeze my hand ever so slightly. They laid in my bed for few hours before they woke up and I can remember how relieved I was. They opened their eyes, they looked around and as their beautiful eyes laid upon me. They smiled and giggled their melodic laughter.

„Hehehehe... Seems like our roles are know reversed, did you found me on the beach as well?“

I snorted at their silliness. „Yes, our roles are now reversed but you laid inside a forest in mud and not in sand by a beautiful beach... But how are you here, Reader... You should be...“

„The Wind Fish fulfilled my wish! I had to do something for him but that was no big deal! Now I can finally see the world outside of Koholint, Link! Maybe you can show me around?“ I turned red as they said my name and right now I didn't care if it was a trap or not. They were back and real! I smiled at them and nodded.

„Of course, I can! I promised it on the log by the beach remember?“

„I know... But you also said you are a hero so you must be very busy... I don't want to steal your precious time... And I said you should forget about that!“ It was like an arrow was fired through my heart and my face and ear tips turned bright red. They were way too kind for the cruel world of Hyrule.

„Sorry, to interrupt your reunion? But who are you and how do you fight all these monsters inside the forest?“ asked the Captain and I just glared at him for interrupting our conversation.

Reader began to sat up, were I jumped up and helped them.

„Be careful.“ they still held my hand but I was more concerned about the Captain. If he tries to take Reader away from me, then he will have some things coming for him!

„Oh I remember you! You were the soldier in the war I should help out to get my wish fulfilled! I never asked for your name! I'm Reader and just like back then I dealt with them with my Sea Lily Bell and water magic.“ they smiled but I couldn't concentrate as THEY knew the Captain!

My head snapped to the Captain who seemed to recognise my first love.

„Ohhh the Hylian with that strange bell and has the Wind Fish as companion. How did you land inside the forest?“ I squeezed their hand slightly and they looked at me while squeezing back.

„I wished to be free from the island I lived on and wished to be with Link! I didn't see him for so long! But I wished that I had stayed awake then I could've greet him properly!“ They hugged me which I reciprocated to hide my even redder face in their shoulder and my ears which wiggled slightly.

I felt them pet my head as they said something which shocked not only me but all of us.

„Oh there are also the two kids from back then! Hey long time no see! You grown so much! One of you even outgrow me! Hihihihihi... But I still don't know your names as the war kinda kept me busy.“

I looked with my eyes to the others and saw how the old man scratched his neck and Wind rushed towards us.

„You are that Hylian with the cool water magic!? It's really been long, you didn't change one bit!!“

They laughed and combed through my hair that my head became drowsy and I felt sleepy.

„Our name is Link, Reader so that's why we are called by our title. You may call me "Time", the boy is "Wind", then there is Warrior, Twilight, Four, Hyrule, Wild, Sky and the one in your arms is called "Legend".“ they nodded and kissed my head.

„I don't care, if you call him "Legend" for me, he is Link!“ My hold around them grew stronger and I fell asleep with my beloved in my arms. It felt like I was finally being able to fall asleep after years of being kept awake...

This is how they met the "Singer" and Legend's first love! Of course, they all noticed how the Vet was acting around them. He was more open and expressive and less snarky. He will be going more and more possessive that even Yandere Twilight would be nothing against him. Wolves are protective over their mates and pups but Legend put that to shame. Sky always starts to play his harp as soon he sees Reader is near him, so they begin to play the bell and sing with him. They sometimes even do a duet with Wild. Apropos Wild, they cook together and dance with him just to have fun and to be silly. Time sees them as the perfect parent from his previous encounters with them but also loves to listen to them sing him a lullaby. But he knows that Reader would be never allowed to be on watch duty, especially not alone. And even thought they fought for being at least on watch duty. They are allowed to but only with Legend as they sleep in the same bedroll and they don't want to imagine what will happen to them and anything around them, if a sleeping Veteran noticed that Reader isn't beside him anymore. Wars talks to them a lot because of their magic and the different bells. Four learned specifically for them how to maintain their bells. Wind uses his "Little Brother Privileges" he gets lullabies, cuddles, playtime anything he wants until Time or Legend separate them, mostly Legend. Hyrule just loves to hear them sing. He isn't confident enough too even mention his feelings for them to the others. Twilight gets "Wolfie Privileges" but also as Hylian he gets attention from Reader. But none of them get as much attention as Legend as he is the closest to them after all.

The Menace will return next week with new words! INTO THE MENACE CAVE!!

I love the twist of being a different world rather than simply just the windfish's dream, legend deserves that little bit of healing at least after everything else he's gone through

And also I agree with how you've characterised the yans!!! I haven't put out my full headcanons for each of them yet (I really need to but they're pretty low on my things to finish and post of wips ngl) But I do have sky's out! and I do see him as very possessive but simply not showing it as much as the rest - he's a manipulative yan more than anything. <3

Legend has EVERY reason to be more cautious of wars, like you said of course legend has the upper hand since he has history with reader but so does warriors, he knew reader during the war of ages so of course he's going to be more defensive against him (time is only safe because he was a kid and doesn't see em in a romantic light)

the way they met is also really sweet, being the opposite of how legend and them met for the first time. I bet he simply wishes that it was after he was finished with this quest so that he could have them to himself instead.

#moss✦answers #the menace anon #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #linked universe #lu legend #lu legend x reader

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morganas-pendragons · 2 months

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All That Time We Were Silent | Aemond Targaryen

This idea will not leave me alone. Violet Hill by Coldplay remains one of my favorite songs and I loved writing this concept for my first Aemond fic. Not to mention that every single Paris Paloma song is House of the Dragon coded. I don’t know. It makes me want to write a series for this pair (particularly one where SPOILERS SPOILERS Aemond dies at The God's Eye and it's this reader who kills him instead of Daemon -> put to The Fruits by Paris Paloma, because I have no self control and will use the same song and multiple different lyrics as titles)

The reader in this is female, and she's about two years older than Aemond. Also Rhaenys and Corlys' youngest daughter.

Anyway. This is set pre and post Rooks Rest with Velaryon!Reader, but it is Rhaenys’ daughter with Corlys because I can’t handle moms who lose all their children (ahem I’m looking at you Carol Peletier) 😭

***

"My sweet little dragon," Your mother caught your face in her hands, dark eyes staring down into your own as you stopped pacing in the halls of The Red Keep. It had only been mere hours since Alicent had delivered the news that your betrothal to Aemond was broken off. You were still so confused about why it had happened at all. Just mere days ago, you were gathering the courage to actually confess to Aemond how you felt. "Do not let that fire go uncontained."

"Mother-"

Rhaenys shook her head. Of her three children, you had always had the most spirit: You were far more likely than Laena and Laenor both to get yourself into trouble. You were the fire she believed would never stop burning.

"Listen to me. You are blood of the dragon, salt of the sea. You are a perfect split of myself and your father." Rhaenys hummed as she pulled you into her side, fingers gently winding through your hair as you hid your face in her shoulder. It was easy to forget that you were barely ten and eight. You also fiercely loved your parents. They were all you had left.

"I loved him, and she took him! What was wrong with me? What did I do?"

"I know. You did nothing. It is all the crown who pushes this upon you." Rhaenys knew better. She knew exactly why Alicent had taken it upon herself to split your betrothal to Aemond. You were getting too close. She couldn't have that happen to her precious son. "Above all, remember this. Fire can consume. That's what its purpose is. Please, sweetheart, do not let it take away those precious parts of you that the Hightowers have tried so hard to steal."

You often thought about how hard your mother tried to maintain your innocence after your brother and sister died. How your mother and father had trained you up as both salt and sea, fire and blood, determined that they would not lose another child while being involved with Rhaenyra's ascension.

Your mother had tried so hard to temper that anger down. It had worked, for a while.

Then Rook's Rest happened.

***

You found yourself positioned between Corlys and Rhaenys as Jace continued in his questioning of his mother after her sudden departure. Rhaenyra's explanation is as sound as she can make it - attempting for peace before plunging the realm into war - and you cannot find fault in her for going to see Alicent. The pursuance of peace is far more important then a war between dragons.

You dare not think about the end. How many dragons would be left?

How many people at this table would still be breathing?

"Cole's victories have only emboldened him." Rhaenys remarked. "He marches on Rook's Rest."

"Why Rook's Rest?" Rhaenyra questioned. "After Duskendale? It's but a small coastal keep."

You're not paying much attention to the remarks of old men spread across the table. You're not a strategist, not by any means, but you are itching for the opportunity to meet Aemond in the field. You have the second largest claimed dragon besides your mother, and you have the most experience in flight. You are a dragon rider.

You are capable of this.

More than anything, you want to make him pay for what he did to you. For how he hurt you. You want him to remember the pain you endured and the way he'd abandoned you. Left alone to face the phantoms remaining inside a little cliffside house by the sea. You'd visited it far more times then you cared to admit after your betrothal had been broken off.

You want to turn his silence - which has spread across the years, as the Prince has not attempted to send ravens since just before Viserys died - into begging, into screams that echo across a scorched battlefield as you plunge your sword into his heart.

It's the least of what he deserves.

"Send me." Jacerys interjected. Your heart sank as you watched the Prince's attempts at negotiating with his mother, eager to serve and eager to fight.

Rhaenyra would never let the loss of another son stand.

"No." Rhaenyra snapped.

"I will burn Coles lines and withdraw before King's Landing can raise the alarm-"

"You lack the experience."

You cleared your throat and stepped out of your space between your mother and father. "I will go," You said firmly. "I have the second largest dragon here besides Meleys and have experience. Nightshade was actively in battle prior to me claiming her. I also am able to evade Vhagar and Aemond. It could be a potential opportunity to take Aemond out of the-"

"No." Rhaenys' voice is clear and sharp as she stepped into your space, firm hand resting on your shoulder as your father nodded his confirmation of your mother's statement. "You must send me, Your Grace. Meleys is your largest dragon and no stranger to battle. I will meet Cole."

Both Corlys and yourself watched Rhaenys meet Rhaenyra's eyes before she released you from her grasp and began her pace toward the Dragon Mont. You could tell Rhaenyra did not want her Hand to depart.

You did not wish your mother to go either. Not with such threat of death looming over her.

"Mother!"

Rhaenys turned to gaze at you over her shoulder. Donned in her ceremonial armor and crown, The Queen Who Never Was softened at the sight of her daughter as you stormed into the Dragon Mont. Meleys whined at the sight of you. She could always acutely feel her rider's fierce devotion to her children. "Do not argue with this," Rhaenys said. "I will not let you meet your end in battle when you are the future of our House. Stay here, defend Rhaenyra, attend to your duty as a Targaryen. Do you understand me?"

"But Aemond-" You interjected, pausing as she reached underneath her shoulders and unfastened her cloak, tightening it around you until the dragon clasped just beneath her neck. You shuddered and leaned forward to rest your head on her shoulder. You would've been lying if you said you weren't terrified. "Please, Mother. Please come back."

Rhaenys smiled and tilted your head forward to press a kiss upon the crown, tightening her cloak around your shoulders before turning to Meleys. "We're off to battle again, old girl." She whispered. Identical eyes met your own before she grabbed the side of her saddle. "My littlest dragon..."

It was only then she remembered how young you were. How alone you were.

"Mother?"

"Avy jorrāelan, my Princess."

Tears burned your eyes as Meleys roared and took off through the mouth of the Mont.

You never saw her again.

***

Rhaenys turned her back to gaze upon Vhagar as Sunfyre descended and fell into the woods. It would've been the perfect opportunity to turn back. To retrieve you from Dragonstone, to have two of Rhaenyra's largest dragons take flight against Vhagar would nearly guarantee a victory for the Black Queen.

She did not do either.

The Queen Who Never Was ordered her dragon to attack, tied herself into her saddle, and took off through the smoke that had settled over Rook's Rest.

She dare not dwell upon her own memories of this dragon she was about to face. About Laena claiming Vhagar, about your first ride upon both Vhagar and Meleys, about your own claiming of Nightshade... of Laenor and Laena.

The nights she'd spent upon the window waiting for Corlys to come home, all three of her children with her.

She dare not dream of home.

***

"Do you ever wish it for us?"

"Wish what?" You asked, twirling your fingers through the ends of Aemond's hair where his head rested upon your chest. "All I wish for us is to take our dragons to the ends of the earth and spend the rest of my life indulging in the finest chocolates and wine with the man I love. That is what I wish."

Aemond snorted and curled himself deeper into your side. "To be able to properly express our love. I don't think my mother will ever let it happen. This. Us. She won't let it continue. Not with the threat of Rhaenyra sitting the Iron Throne-"

"I don't want to think about Rhaenyra, Aemond." You murmured. "I want to think about you and me. That's a far happier memory then to dwell upon all the times The Stranger has descended upon my family. I will not let the Gods take what we have from me too."

Aemond tried not to think of you when Vhagar descended upon Meleys, teeth clamped firmly into her neck while the other dragon roared.

He tried not to think of all the times he'd seen you with this dragon himself, with Vhagar, all the times he'd had those precious words on the tip of his tongue when he watched your joy in the face of such terrifying beasts.

If you love me.. won't you let me know?

Aemond could not risk it. Admitting to his growing feelings, his growing adoration, gave his mother another weapon to use against him. You were far too good of a thing in his life for Aemond to be okay with Alicent weaponizing that.

That had been why she'd broken off the betrothal. It wasn't her idea.

It was his.

If you love me, why'd you let me go?

He tried not to think of you as the world was enveloped in fire, and he tried not to think of you as he watched the Red Queen descend into the castle at Rook's Rest. She did not get back up.

He was told The Queen Who Never Was died that very same day.

***

It was Baela who delivered the news to you.

"Auntie?"

You turned your head to acknowledge the Princess and smiled, beckoning her deeper into your chambers. "Enter, sweet girl." The peace that had fallen upon you in your time waiting for your mother to come home dissipated once you recognized the tears brimming in Baela's eyes. "What is it?"

You tightened your fingers in your mother's cloak as Baela broke the news. You expected to be much more upset. Devastated. What you felt instead was that same anger that your mother had spent years tempering in you begin creeping to the surface. You were most certainly not your father and mother's daughter.

Maybe that anger came from deeper in your family line. Maybe it was generational. Maybe all Targaryens harbored anger like this.

"She died a warrior." You murmured. You wanted to believe that. You did believe that. Your mother would have fought valiantly against whatever foe dare face her. "She died a true dragon rider. We can only wish the same for ourselves."

"What is to be done now?" Baela asked.

Your thoughts automatically went to your father. Your father, waiting for a wife who would never come home. Your father residing upon the Driftwood Throne in a castle that would resemble a tomb, for none of its occupants remained. They were all dead. All that remained of them was their memory.

"I need to go home. To see your grandsire," You said quietly. "The loss of my mother will devastate us both-"

"Has it not already?"

You had to consider her question thoroughly before being able to answer it. When your brother and sister had died, it had taken you a significantly longer period of time than your mother and father to adjust. To be able to properly allow yourself to grieve. How was there time for the luxury of grief when the obligation of being the Heir to the Driftwood Throne was being pressed down upon you?

"Not yet. My anger will get the better of me first." You sighed and squeezed the girl's shoulders before releasing her. "And then the grief will surely follow."

***

Rhaenyra called you into the room with the Painted Table some hours later. You were not ready to hear her. Just as you'd said, Baela watched Rhaenyra attempt to offer consolation and comfort in the face of your mother's loss.

This was, in your words, three people that Rhaenyra Targaryen had taken from you. You would not allow your father to be the next.

"Princess-"

"No!" You yelled. All the voices in the room died as Rhaenyra's head snapped upward, blue eyes meeting your own from across the painted table as you stormed forward. "I refuse participate in a war like this one. I don't care if your legitimacy has been contested. My mother was the only reason I allowed for myself and Nightshade to take part. I will not risk the future of my House or my dragon for the sake of the Iron Throne."

You knew you were being irrational. It was easier to be irrational and angry for the loss of your mother and direct it at Rhaenyra then come to your second most devastating realization: Despite how much you still loved Aemond, you were going to have to be the one to kill him. You were going to have to be the one to kill him because he was the one who took your mother from you.

Right now, you had one goal in mind. One that you fully intended to see it through.

"Princess, where are you going?"

"Home. I'm going back to Driftmark to deliver news to my Lord father of the passing of my mother. It needs to be me."

"And if the Queen has need of you?"

You flippantly waved your hand over your shoulder. "Don't! The only time you need to have me involved, Your Grace, is when you need someone who can successfully face Aemond and Vhagar. When that happens, I want to be the one to end it." You turned back around in the hallway to stare at the Black Queen's Council, your nieces and nephews, the Queen Who Had Yet To Be. "He killed my mother. I want retribution for that act."

You'd rather she be the Queen Who Never Was. If anyone deserved the right of being Queen, it was Rhaenys.

"When it's time to kill Aemond, it should be me. Call upon me then. Until that point comes? You are on your own."

[authors note: I'm seriously considering adding a second part just for the fact that I have GOT to write Seasmoke claiming Addam LOL]

#Aemond Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x Reader #Velaryon!Reader #HOTD spoilers #Rhaenys Targaryen #Rhaenyra Targaryen #Corlys Velaryon #I love writing these fics LOL it's such a great way for me to express anger!!! when I don't actually do it IRL!!!

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