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#i just see other people's writing on here
mondaymelon · 3 days
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₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader
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— in which two people notice what two people don't .
— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)
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mualani notices it.
"hehe."
and you hear it.
"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"
and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.
with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.
mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:
"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."
.
.
.
ajaw did more than just "notice" it.
"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"
"noisy."
"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"
"once again, ajaw. be quiet."
"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"
ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.
well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.
well, you did exactly the opposite.
"no thanks."
"...sorry?"
"i don't need it."
"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"
you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???
naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."
as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.
a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground
kinich looking back (his mistake)
a kiss...?
oh, and two extra.
4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.
...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.
then, this...
.
.
.
"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"
"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"
you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.
"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."
.
.
.
"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."
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(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND
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I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!
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[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic
( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )
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A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton
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Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: none
wordcount: +3k
a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.
Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.
The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.
He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.
“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”
Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.
The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”
Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.
His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”
Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”
The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.
There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.
The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”
His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”
As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.
They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.
The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.
Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.
The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.
“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”
Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”
She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”
Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.
“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”
Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.
“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”
Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.
Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”
For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.
“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”
Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.
She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”
Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.
The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.
“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”
Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”
He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”
The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.
“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.
“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”
“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”
She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.
“Have I ever made you jealous?”
Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”
His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”
He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”
Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.
For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”
Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.
“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.
Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”
“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.
Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.
“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”
This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”
Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”
For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.
He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.
She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”
The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.
“What’s something you wish you did more often?”
Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”
She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”
She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”
Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.
“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”
She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”
The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”
“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”
Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”
“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”
Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”
“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.
“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”
She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”
Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“When did you first know that you were in love?”
This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”
She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”
Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.
“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”
Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”
She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”
“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”
“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”
“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”
She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”
“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.
“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”
Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”
“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”
For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.
She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”
Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.
The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.
“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”
Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.
Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”
“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”
The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”
His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”
The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”
“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.
Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”
The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”
Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”
And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.
The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.
Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.
“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”
She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”
He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.
She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”
She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”
Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”
She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”
Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.
Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.
For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.
“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”
“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”
She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”
Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”
She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”
“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”
He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”
“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”
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peanutpinet · 3 days
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BABE!!!! We absolutely need a second part to Little Things, we need to know how their relationship develops and see Sylus fall in lover with reader's soul. PLEASE BABE PLEASE!!!
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Welcome to My World - Sylus x Fem Reader (Sequel to Little Things)
Request: Craving for a sequel to this w/ reader actually going back to her world and sylus just defying all odds shshshshs these kinds of fics are so interesting love em <3
A/N: Just a lil something for those who wanted to see what would Sylus be like if he were to actually come out of the screen and into our world (still having his evol but is not addressed). Also if anyone is a Kpop fan, I just want to say, do have a listen to Aespa’s Welcome to My World. It embodies this fic so much and am putting some of the lyrics into the story! I hope you guys enjoy!!
Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.
Also, if you haven't read Little Things, the "first part" of the story, do have a read. Will be link here. But you don't have to read it and can just read each of these fics seperately
Warnings: Fluff but mainly ANGST, Isekai Theme, Will be Going back and Forth between LADS universe and our universe, slow burn because Sylus is tryna find you :))
Funfact: I remembered the TV Show: Westworld and how the characters of the game gain conciousness when writing this fic
Songs to listen to: NCT Dream - Broken Melodies, Aespa - Welcome to My World, NCT Dream - Like We Just Met
N109 Zone - 01:48 AM
It was in the middle of the night. When all are asleep, people in the N109 zone, those in the shadows have only started to wake up and get on about their day, including Sylus. Slowly awakening from his slumber, Sylus saw the girl that was beside him, fast asleep. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady motion; indicating that she was in a deep sleep.
Smiling to himself, Sylus decided to scootch a bit closer and caressed the girl’s cheek. But as he did, the girl immediately grabbed his wrist tightly and jerked awake. “Who the fuck…w-where am I?!”
Hearing the girl’s words, Sylus knew. “You’re not her…”
Real World - 09:28 AM
You woke up with a pounding headache but slowly regained your consciousness, you noticed how the bed wasn’t as big nor was it as warm as when you were used to. Jerking up, you took in the room you were in. The bright white ceiling was the first thing you see, the smell of alcohol and blood was faint but you could smell it, and then you heard a beeping noise which made you turn and saw that your hand was hooked onto a monitor and an IV drip.
Whipping your head around, you search for your phone until you find it and immediately look at the date when you suddenly get a notification from both Instagram and Twitter mentioning the new update for Love and Deepspace.
“I’m back…” you sobbed yet your fingers glided across the screen of your phone, pressing the game that you swore you were in
As the game loads, you see the cutscenes of all of the characters and can’t help but feel emotionally overwhelmed whenever you see Sylus’ cutscenes.
Once the game loaded and you could hear that cafe jingle along with those familiar red eyes, you tried to see whether or not anything had changed in the game other than the new updates but when you clicked on his tall figure, the lines he said were nothing out of the ordinary. Even in the text message icon, you couldn’t text him like you did when you were in the game.
“Was it all just a dream?”
“Y-you’re awake!!” you heard someone talk and as your eyes looked at the doorframe, it was the nurse
You soon found out that you had been in a coma for a little over 2 weeks yet it felt like you were in the game for 2 months, maybe even more. Your best friends came to visit you every day and now that you’re awake, they were bombarding you with food, life updates, and all.
For once, you actually didn’t feel as lonely as you were when you appeared in the game.
Maybe it truly was all just a dream…
From a distance, a black crow was watching your interaction with your friends from a tree that was just outside of your window. After some time, the crow eventually fled and flew away from the tree.
N109 Zone - 04:18 AM
Sylus was beyond pissed. He took MC to where he took you in the beginning to get your evol and aether core checked but additionally, he wanted to know if you were truly not in the MC’s body. Sylus’ worker questioned as to why he brought MC again to check her evol and aether core, confusing the Onychinus’ leader.
Even when the two came home, the twins didn’t notice any difference from MC. What’s wrong with everyone? You’re not MC and it goes the other way as well. Why were the twins pestering MC who to Sylus, was not you.
“But boss, Miss Hunter and you have known each other for over 2 months now. What do you mean she’s not her?” Luke questioned, genuinely confused at his boss’ attitude
“She’s not. Have you forgotten who taught you both how to cook the simplest meal? The one that bought you those bulletproof vests?” Sylus demanded, something, anything about your sudden disappearance or at the very least, anyone other than him remembering your existence
“It’s Miss Hunter, though?” Kieran replied, making Sylus groan. “Just, leave me alone for the next few days” Sylus left the room and walked past MC who grabbed his wrist, making his brow arch in confusion.
Sighing, Sylus turned to see MC. “What is it that you want?”
“Where are you going? I went through all the trouble to get the N109 zone and I want answers regarding the aether core” MC demanded but Sylus just chuckled and used his evol to remove MC’s hand from his wrist
“You already have the aether core you’re looking for. Why don’t you go back and ask your doctor about that? I have other matters to attend to. Like why are you here instead of her” Sylus mentioned, walking away until MC talked to him
“You’re always mentioning her but you never mentioned her name. Who are you exactly talking about and what does it have to do with me?” MC questioned and this time, Sylus grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the nearest wall
“Don’t tempt my patience. I only have so much left ever since your attitude shows up instead of something else I want. From here on out, I could care less about your little quest. You can even have that brooch you’re wearing to get in and out of the N109 zone without getting harmed. But I want you to leave. Go back to your doctor, that fish man of an artist, or fake hunter for all I care. When I come back to this place, I hope that you’re not here anymore. Or you’ll hurt even more” Sylus warned, releasing MC as he went who knows where.
Sylus went into his car, the car that you love to drive in. Though you were just a soul in MC’s body, he could immediately tell the two of you apart. What scent do you like, the small trinkets that you would buy to keep his things more organized, some small keychain plushies that he would put on his keys which is in contrast to his scary look.
You might just be a soul that just so happens to be in MC’s body, the body of a person he should’ve been interacting with, the one he should’ve been bound to. But why does his heart feel incomplete? Why does his soul long for your own.
Gripping onto the steering wheel, Sylus looked at the plushie you put in this car. It was a koala, one of your favourite plushies, because you told him that you looked like a koala when Sylus carried you around. “I swore to you that if this were to happen, I would find you. Regardless what happens, I will find a way to get back to you. Our stories’ unfinished, sweetie. Wait for me. I’ll do anything to get back to you”
Real World
It’s been several months since you woke up. You still played the game but not as often anymore. You got a job at your friend’s office as a secretary. It pays well, you and your friend are roommates, life has been going fairly well that you barely played the game that provided you comfort.
One day, however, there was a bouquet of red Carnations mixed with pink Camillas on your desk with a note attached to it. “I hope this gets to you. If this ever reaches you, it means that I’m another step closer to seeing you again. There’s this uneasy feeling I’ve been feeling since you were gone. I promise I won’t stop finding you”
Confused, you asked everyone, including the delivery man who delivered the flowers to you but no one knew where it came from. It didn’t even mention your name and only a description of you.
Brushing it off, you thought it must’ve been some kind of prank until several more flowers reached you. One after another, there were notes along with the flowers which all made your heart clench because whoever this person was, it seemed that either you left a very deep impression on them or this was some sort of stalker.
“Did the first one reach you? I’m getting closer”
“I hope that you’re eating well. Wait for me”
“It seems that you’ve forgotten about me once more. No matter, I’ll be sure to jog your memory once we meet again”
Another year has finally passed and the bouquet and notes kept on coming until you saw the flowers and notes that came in. Instead of the usual red Carnation or pink Camillas or even sometimes Forget me nots, this time it was a bouquet of black and red roses with a note of a familiar handwriting and scent.
“I’ve finally found you. You said that you were worried about me finding the real you but to me, you’re just as perfect as your soul. Your face, your body, it matches your soul perfectly. And even though you might’ve forgotten about me, I assure you that my love for you is still the same like we just met. Perhaps in the game, I would allow you to go live your life without me because it’s safer for you. But here, looking at you, I can feel myself coming alive once more. Whether you try to move on, I know that there’s a lingering feeling behind your pretty head thinking of the possibility. And you would be correct, sweetie. I’m fulfilling my promise to you. For there is no love greater than mine.
P.S: we should thank Mephisto for always managing to find you when I couldn’t
-Sylus”
You were in shock. Sure, there was a small voice, hidden behind all your to-dos, your schedules, your wants, likes, needs. A faint voice telling you of the possibility that perhaps Sylus was the one to send you all those flowers and notes but you were in your world, the real world. You would lock that faint voice and never think about it again. You were realistic. There was no way that a fictional 3D man would send you all of that.
And Mephisto? He’s a bird. A mechanical bird that is tied with Sylus. Everything seemed ridiculous. You couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day until your boss called you for a sudden meeting outside of the office and at a restaurant.
The restaurant was filled with high-class people, some were doing business with another while others were simply finding ways to spend their money. Suddenly, it reminded you of the time when you were in MC’s body and Sylus would take the two of you out to dinner.
Remembering Sylus, the flowers, and the note, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom but in reality, you decided to log into the very game you downloaded to seek comfort. The nostalgia was coming back. They made a new update and introduced a new male character. Once your game loads, Sylus is still in the game and when you poke him, thinking that he’ll respond like how he would when a player hasn’t logged in for so long, he surprises you.
“You’re probably wondering why am I not responding to you in a way that you expect. Well, why don’t you check my messages on the message feature, sweetie?” Sylus mentioned and immediately, you went to open the message feature in the game and once again, you were shocked with what you read on the screen that you had to cover your mouth.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, kitten? I’m sad that you’ve forgotten about me but I’m genuinely happy with how you’re living your life so far”
“But if I were to tell you that I want to be apart of your life here, would you accept me?”
You were given the chance to answer him, to reply to this sudden message but your boss had already called you back and unfortunately, you had to go back to the table and sit beside your boss.
As you were about to sit down, you heard that familiar soothing voice that always calms your nerves; especially when you’re in the N109 zone. “Is this your secretary that we’ve been waiting for?”
Immediately, you looked up and met with those soft bright red eyes behind small glasses. The white hair you’ve gone through with your fingers was styled like how you first met him. The figure sitting in front of you was wearing a soft grey sweater and black jeans.
And that smile, that smile that you’re so used to seeing everyday is now showing in front of you again. “Pleased to meet you, sweetheart. Shall we begin the meeting?”
Throughout the meeting, you tried your best to pay attention and jot down all the notes you needed. You struggled for a moment and even towards the end, you stutter your thank you and goodbyes until the white-hair man called you.
“Waiting for someone, sweetie?” you heard that damn voice as you could feel all hairs on your skin stand up
Turning around, you finally got a good look at him. All of his 190cm height was towering over your figure. Your actual real-life self and not the MC you created in the game.
On one side, you wanted to talk, to question him if all of this was just another one of those visions you used to have. On the other, you wanted to jump at the man in front of you. To cry in his arms as he holds you close. But nothing. You were frozen in your spot as this Sylus look-alike smirked at you and held his index out which suddenly a black crow rest on.
“Is, is that…” you managed to utter, making the man in front of you chuckle
“Mephisto. An actual crow this time” he said, extending his hand out so the black crow was within your reach
Extending your own index out, the black crow, Mephisto went onto your index and you instinctively stroke its head. “We never stop looking for you, you know”
You look up to see those eyes that once were filled with rage now filled with sadness. Sighing, you tried to remind yourself that this is the real world, not your game.
“I'm sorry, sir. You must've gotten the wrong person. I don't think we’ve met before this meeting today. Your bird must be very friendly to have gone on another person’s hand” you mentioned, intending to return the black crow, still not believing that the man and bird in front of you are who you think they are
But instead, the man in front of you turned and took something from his pocket. “Is that so? Well then either you don’t want to remember what we’ve been through or Mephisto might’ve gotten the wrong person. Then how about we reintroduce ourselves to one another?”
“I’m Sylus, this is Mephisto. We were from a faraway land called the N109 zone. For the past year, I've been building my multimillion security tech company” Sylus mentioned, extending his hand out, revealing the brooch that you once wore as a promise to Sylus to stay by him
Shocked to see the brooch, you stutter at your words but Sylus noticed this and gently took one of your hands which you didn’t deny. “I meant what I said and I’m keeping my promise. My only regret is I couldn’t come find you sooner”
“H-how? This has got to be a joke. You’re not real. You’re not actually here. I must be dreaming again. I’m going mad” you started to lose your mind but Sylus pulled you into a hug
“Tell me this isn’t real then. Tell me that you don’t see me. Tell me that you don’t feel this warmth we both have wanted for a long time. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll gladly walk away from you so that you can continue to live your life as is but don’t expect me not to want to be a part of your life. Don’t think that even if I walk away today, I won’t try my best to still keep an eye on you” Sylus stated, whispering into your ear, kissing right below your ear
Taking in his calming leather scent, you slowly sob in Sylus’ chest as he strokes your head, calming you. “You’re such a stubborn crow” you finally hug Sylus, indirectly accepting him back into your life
“I know. But it’s worth it. I finally get back to you. Though I can’t offer you as much as I would when we were in the N109 zone, I do promise you that I will be here this time. I’m not letting you go that easily. So, you’re willing to let me back?” Sylus asked, making you chuckle
“Welcome to the real world, my world, Sylus” you said, getting on your tiptoe to give his cheek a kiss but instead, Sylus turned his head, held your neck and leaned for an actual kiss
A/N: Ngl, I was simping over my own writing of this. Where can we find an irl Sylus T^T
275 notes · View notes
svt-luna · 2 days
Note
hi! i really adore each member’s dynamic with luna 🫶 can i request for a chapter where the group’s over protectiveness comes to action when it comes to luna? it can be any member you prefer. thank you!
(pls keep on writing i really love ur blog 🤗)
ᡴꪫ ⋆ All EYES ON HER: SEVENTEEN’S ULTIMATE PROTECTIVE MOMENTS ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…
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synopsis: A compilation on the countless times the members have fiercely protected Luna, proving that anyone who messes with her has an entire team to answer to.
hello!! I apologize for taking so long with this request, it took a long time for me to get to it but finally, it’s here now. you didn’t specify what kind I should do, so I decided on a youtube compilation instead, I hope you don’t mind! happy reading, my loves 🤍💛
╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ youtube compilations
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[added captions are in brackets] ᡣ𐭩
bold dialogues are spoken in english ᡣ𐭩
indented italics are additional voice overs ᡣ𐭩
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Ah yes, folks, welcome to this episode of ‘How SEVENTEEN is Basically Luna’s Private Army at This Point.’
I mean, if you didn’t already know, our girl Luna isn’t just the 14th member of SEVENTEEN— no, no, she’s also the epitome of princess treatment.
Miss thing, is protected by her 13 bodyguards… I mean, bandmates.
I cannot stress this enough… the amount of times these guys circle around her like she’s made of glass is honestly a whole genre of content at this point.
You’d think they signed a secret contract that says, ‘Thou shalt not let Luna so much as trip on a pebble or breathe near a stalker without at least five of us nose-diving in front of her.’
I’m starting to think they all have a group chat where their one goal is: ‘Keep Luna safe. At all costs.’ I mean, the devotion is real, people.
Anyway, buckle up because we’re diving into SEVENTEEN’s ultimate protective moments over the years. From stage accidents to creepy fan encounters— these boys do it all. *swoons*
So grab your popcorn, maybe a tissue, and get ready to witness Luna being treated like the literal K-pop princess that she is.
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LUNA’S AIRPORT SASAENG INCIDENT
I feel like this video itself just shows you how much the members are super protective of Luna.
On a side note, y’all weirdos really need to leave them the fuck alone
The airport was abuzz with the usual energy that seemed to follow SEVENTEEN everywhere they went. Fans had gathered on the other side of the barricades, screaming, phones flashing, as they tried to capture every moment of the members’ journey to the gate.
It was early— too early for most of the members to be anything but a little groggy. They had a long flight ahead to Seattle for their ‘Be the Sun’ tour concert, and it showed in the occasional yawn, tired smiles, and slow movements as they waited in line to enter their gate.
Luna stood in the middle of the line, nestled between Wonwoo, who was in front of her, and Seungcheol, who lingered protectively behind.
[In just a few seconds you guys would see how Choi Seungcheol became my bias]
[on a side note… look how hot he looks 😩 DADDY!]
Luna was chatting quietly with Wonwoo about the new show she was watching late last night, her voice calm as she ran through the reason why she got zero sleep.
Everything felt routine.
The members bowed and waved occasionally to the fans and cameras across the barricades, but it was all in the usual ebb and flow of their lives on tour. There was nothing unusual about the morning, just the soft hum of their conversations and the distant screams of their loyal Carats.
[I love how they still try their best to greet Carats despite being so tired ���]
And then it happened.
In the middle of her sentence, Luna was cut off by the sound of a man’s voice— a deep, rough yell from somewhere beyond the barricade. He was shouting her name, which wasn’t entirely strange. Fans often called out to her, but there was something different in the way this man shouted. It wasn’t the excited, breathless tone of a fan. It was urgent, desperate, and far too aggressive.
[guys I’m being so fr rn, this clip till this day pisses me the fuck off]
Before Luna or anyone else could process what was happening, there was a sudden movement from their side.
Out of nowhere, the man broke past security and somehow made it too close, far closer than any fan should’ve been allowed. He wasn’t behind the barricades anymore— he was there, within arm’s reach of the members.
[LOOK AT THIS FUCKING BUM]
[If I see him istg it’s on sight]
[I didn’t bother blurring his face cause… why should I?!]
The air around them shifted, the fans behind the barricades screaming in shock, but it was too late. Luna didn’t have time to turn and see him before she felt it.
A tight grip suddenly clamped down on her right arm.
It was jarring, a harsh pull that yanked her back, shocking her out of the moment. The man— eyes wild and frantic— was tugging her towards him, shouting about how much he loved her. “Luna, Jiyeon-ah! You don’t understand, I love you! I’m in love with you! I need you to know! I’m obsessed with you!”
[yeah we can tell, loser]
Luna’s breath hitched in her throat. The world around her blurred as the fans screamed louder, their voices tinged with panic. For a split second, her brain froze, and she couldn’t fully process what was happening. The man’s hand was too tight, too rough, and before she could pull away, she felt herself being dragged towards him.
[look at her face, motherfucker! look at how scared she looks]
[TWICE HER SIZE AND HE FUCKING YANKS HER]
But then, in an instant, everything shifted again.
Before Luna could even react, she felt a firm grip around her waist— a strong, grounding force pulling her back from the man’s grasp.
[IT’S THE SPEED!! IT WAS THE WAY HE REACTED!!]
[CHEOLIE’S REFLEXES ARE NEXT LEVEL]
[🫠🫠🫠]
Seungcheol, who had been just behind her, moved like a flash, his expression steely as his arm looped securely around her. His fingers pressed tightly against her waist, holding her in place, but his other hand wasn’t idle. With a swift, practiced motion, Seungcheol reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, yanking it away from Luna with more strength than the man had anticipated.
“Let go.” Seungcheol’s voice was firm, sharp with authority but calm, almost dangerously calm, as he shoved the man’s hand off her with little effort.
[GOODBYE WORLD]
[I– no words… there are no words]
[Honestly, if I were that sasaeng, I’d just tell my heart to stop right then and there]
[Choi Seungcheol is scary wbk]
At the same time, Wonwoo had spun around, his eyes dark with alarm. His hand immediately found Luna’s, grasping her left hand firmly as he pulled her back to safety, away from the chaos. The sudden switch from casual conversation to this whirlwind of confusion sent a surge of adrenaline through him. His usually stoic face was a mixture of concern and anger as he held Luna’s hand tighter, making sure she wasn’t being pulled any further.
[brb I’m gonna cry]
[Wonwoo was holding onto her for dear life]
The sasaeng stumbled backward as Seungcheol released him, but it wasn’t over yet.
The moment Seungcheol tore the man’s hand off Luna’s arm, the rest of the members immediately closed in, surrounding her like a protective shield.
[They look so worried 🥺]
[Jiyeon is so loved]
Security finally rushed in, grabbing the man and pulling him away from the members, the fans still screaming in horror and disbelief at what had just unfolded.
[Also what took y’all so fucking long 😠]
Seungcheol barely had time to check her well-being before he was pushed back into action, taking control of the situation as the leader.
As the fans continued to scream in both shock and confusion, Jeonghan was by Luna’s side in an instant, his face painted with worry. His hand hovered near her shoulder as he looked her over, asking softly, “Are you okay?” before Mingyu stepped up beside him, eyes scanning her for any sign of distress.
“I’m okay,” Luna nodded as she shook caressed the now red flesh of her right arm.
[MY PRONOUNS ARE J.E.O.N.G.N.A RAHHHH]
The members formed a tight circle around her, creating a barrier between Luna and the crowd as they took turns asking her if she was alright. Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Dino, Wonwoo, and Dokyeom stood close, their faces unusually serious, while Minghao, Joshua, and Vernon kept a vigilant eye on the situation, making sure no one else could get close. Even Woozi, Jun, and Hoshi, who had been half-asleep just moments ago, were now alert and focused, standing protectively near her.
[they baracaded her real fast]
[THIS IS HOW THE SECRET SERVICE REACTS WHEN THERE IS A THREAT TO THE FUCKING PRESIDENT]
[WE LOVE TO SEE IT]
Luna, is still in shock. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened. The touch of the man’s rough hand still lingered on her skin, but the warmth and safety of her members anchored her in the present, pulling her out of the chaos and fear.
Meanwhile, off to the side, fans caught a glimpse of Seungcheol in full leader mode, visibly angry as he appeared to scold their security team.
[HE IS SO FUCKING HOT FOR THIS 🥵]
[THIS👏 MAN 👏 DOESN’T 👏 PLAY 👏 WHEN 👏 IT 👏 COMES 👏 TO 👏 HIS 👏 MEMBERS]
Seungcheol’s body language was sharp and commanding, hands gesturing firmly as he instructed them on how to handle the situation. No one could hear exactly what he was saying, but it was clear from his tone and expression that he was furious. His jaw clenched, his eyes steely, he pointed toward the barricades and the area where the man had broken through, making sure there would be no more mistakes.
[blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name…]
[What I’d give to hear what he’s saying rn]
Fans watching from the other side couldn’t help but be struck by how protective and authoritative he was, silently appreciating the way SEVENTEEN took care of their own.
Once all that was taken care of, Seungcheol finally turned back and glanced down at Luna, his voice now softer but still firm. “You okay?” His eyes scanned her for any signs of distress or injury as he gently caressed her arm, his brows furrowed with concern.
[WHERE DO YOU GET A MAN LIKE THIS?!]
[I’m in love with him it’s not funny anymore 😔]
Luna nodded slowly, though her heart was still racing. “I’m okay, Cheolie… thank you,” she managed to whisper, her voice shaky but steadying.
“Thank you, Wonwoo oppa,” Luna turned to the man next to her who gave her a silent not, clearly still disturbed.
But Seungcheol wasn’t fully convinced she was fine… none of the members did. They could tell from how she twisted the rings on her fingers.
Seungcheol placed his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close as they moved forward, ensuring she was safe and that the man was well out of reach. Meanwhile, the rest of the members hovered around her. Jeonghan was beside her, now holding her hand, his grip tight and his presence still solid and reassuring.
[HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE JEONGNA]
[the way Cheol and Han kept holding her till they entered their gate 🥹]
The fans, who had just witnessed the entire event, were still in a state of shock, but now their screams had shifted. Instead of panic, there were chants of Luna’s name, filled with concern and admiration for how the members especially Seungcheol and Wonwoo had handled the situation.
It was only then, as the adrenaline began to fade, that Luna realized just how much she had been relying on them. Without them, without their quick thinking and protective instincts, she didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened.
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‘FEAR’ WARDROBE MALFUNCTION IN JAPAN
The concert in Japan was in full swing, the arena lights flashing to the heavy beat of SEVENTEEN’s ‘Fear’ as they performed for thousands of cheering fans.
[Another one of my favorite clips, ladies and gentlemen]
The energy in the air was electric, the members synchronized perfectly with their intense choreography and sharp vocals. Luna was in the center of the stage, dressed in a sleek black attire that matched the rest of the members— black leather pants that accentuated her legs accompanied by a black sleeveless top with a zipper running down the back.
[MOM LOOKS HOT BTW 🥵]
The moment was flawless— until it wasn’t.
In the midst of a spin, as she did the choreography with the rest of the members, Luna felt the distinct sensation of her zipper giving way.
A chill ran down her spine as the entire back of her top unzipped, fully exposing her skin. Her black top was now hanging loose, barely held together by the fabric at the front.
But Luna, ever the professional, didn’t miss a beat. Her face remained fierce and intense, completely matching the dark, brooding mood of the song. Not a flicker of panic crossed her expression as she continued to sing, her voice steady, her movements sharp. Her body flowed with the choreography as if nothing was wrong, even though her mind was racing.
[her top was literally hanging by a thread]
[I don’t know how she does it. I would have panicked]
[It’s a good thing the zipper was at her back 🫥]
Some of the members noticed almost immediately. Being behind her in the formation, they had a clear view of her exposed back. Hoshi, who was a few steps to the side, caught a glimpse of her loose top during a turn, his eyes widening slightly in realization— however, he was a few steps too far to do anything about it.
Just as they transitioned to another part of the routine, Luna shifted her glance to the side and locked eyes with Dokyeom, who was right behind her. His eyes were filled with concern, his expression subtle but clear— her back was fully exposed, and they needed to fix it.
Luna, ever so composed, gave him a single, almost imperceptible nod. The kind of nod only someone who knew her well could catch. It was all she needed to convey her understanding.
[Again, it amazes me how fast they pulled this off]
[it took me like five times to understand how DK did it]
[Watch Dokyeomie closely]
Dokyeom, without hesitation, stepped into action while maintaining the choreography flawlessly. As they moved through the next steps, their bodies swayed and spun in perfect sync with the music, but every move was calculated.
Luna, still dancing and keeping her facial expression strong, swept her long hair from the back to the front in one fluid motion, letting it cascade over her shoulder. She exposed her bare back fully to Dokyeom, who was quick to react.
[HOT 🥵 HOT 🥵 HOT 🥵]
[maybe that’s why it’s so hard to catch DK zipping her up… Jiyeonie is too distracting]
With the precision and speed that only a professional dancer could pull off, Dokyeom zipped up the back of her top as if it were part of the routine. His fingers worked fast, pulling the zipper up in one smooth, swift motion while simultaneously stepping to the side, his feet moving in perfect time with the beat.
To any fan watching from the crowd, it would have looked like just another part of the choreography, so seamless was their execution. Luna barely flinched, continuing to sing with full power, her movements never faltering as she danced across the stage. The members around them barely blinked; they had seen what happened and knew the situation was under control.
[LIKE— WHAT?!]
[one minute her back was fully exposed and the next no skin at all!!?]
[THAT’S TALENT RIGHT THERE 👏👏👏]
The arena was still filled with flashing lights and screaming fans, but among them, some of the more eagle-eyed fans caught the moment on their phones. Every angle of the stage showed Dokyeom's swift actions and Luna's incredible poise. Twitter was already lighting up with comments about how professional they were.
As the final chorus hit, Luna and Dokyeom made eye contact once more. Luna, still keeping in character, mouthed a soft, “Thank you,” barely visible to the cameras, but enough for Dokyeom to see. He gave her a quick wink and a nod, his lips curling up into a small, reassuring smile before they both turned their attention back to the performance, moving seamlessly into the final formation.
[I want to be so good at something that I am this casual on stage]
From that point forward, no one would have guessed anything had gone wrong. The performance continued flawlessly, but fans watching from the crowd and at home couldn't help but be amazed at how fast and professional they both were. It was a moment of pure teamwork, a quiet display of trust and coordination between members that reminded everyone just how close SEVENTEEN really was—onstage and off.
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THE BLANKET BLOCK ™
Now, let me introduce to you ‘The Infamous Blocks’. There are three in total— ‘The Blanket’, ‘The Body’, and ‘The Bear’. I might sound like I am joking but I’m being so serious…
Lets start with the ‘Blanket Block’
The night was electric with excitement, the air buzzing with anticipation as fans lined the barricades of the red carpet at MAMA 2017 in Japan. The event was one of the most awaited of the year, and the energy surrounding the venue was palpable. Cameras flashed wildly, fans screamed with glee, and a sea of lightsticks waved as the SEVENTEEN van rolled to a slow stop at the edge of the carpet. The sleek black vehicle gleamed under the lights as if announcing the arrival of something grand. One by one, the members began to step out.
First came S.Coups, stepping confidently onto the red carpet, his sharp black suit catching the light just right. The fans erupted in cheers, phones already out and recording as each member made their way down the line. Mingyu followed, waving briefly to the crowd, and then Seungkwan, whose grin brightened as he acknowledged the fans’ excitement. Each member received their share of attention, but it wasn’t just for the boys the crowd was waiting.
[they looked too good to be true this night]
Inside the van, Luna sat, fixing her dress, her hands smoothing over the soft fabric nervously. She knew the moment she stepped out, all eyes would be on her. But more than the eyes, it was the cameras. The predatory gleam of lenses ready to snap her from every angle made her feel vulnerable, and exposed. Tonight, she was wearing an elegant, sleek black dress— classy but form-fitting— and she knew the moment she stepped out, the cameras wouldn’t be kind if they caught anything inappropriate.
Jeonghan, who had just stepped out of the van, paused at the door and leaned back inside. His pink hair gleamed under the overhead lights, but his gaze was focused entirely on Luna, not the crowd.
He noticed her slight hesitation and saw the way her hands twitched with uncertainty as she adjusted her dress. He leaned in closer, his voice soft and comforting, though the words were lost to the flashing lights and the fans’ endless chants. Whatever he said, it calmed her enough for her to take a deep breath and prepare to step out.
[I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE SAID TO HER]
[I’m desperate, please]
But before she could fully exit the van, Jeonghan reached inside and swiftly grabbed a dark blanket that had been folded near the seats. With a smooth, practiced motion, he unfolded it and held it open in front of the door, shielding Luna from the prying eyes and flashing cameras that would’ve otherwise had a clear view of her legs and dress as she maneuvered out of the car.
[GOODBYE WORLD PT. 2]
[YOON JEONGHAN IS THE STANDARD]
He didn’t rush her, didn’t make a big deal of it; his movements were calm, unbothered as if this were second nature to him. The blanket draped in his hands, blocking the lower part of her from view.
[I WANT HIM]
[LORD HE’S PERFECT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE]
Luna, catching the gesture, couldn’t help but feel a wave of warmth and gratitude. Her face softened as she adjusted her dress under the cover of the blanket. She took a moment to gather herself, making sure every inch of fabric was in place, every crease smoothed out.
She met Jeonghan’s eyes for a brief second, and the silent exchange between them said more than words could have. A nod of reassurance. A small, grateful smile.
[she just swooned… don’t at me]
Jeonghan, still holding the blanket like a shield, waited for her signal. Only when Luna gave him the okay— a subtle but confident nod— did he let the blanket drop.
[HE– I– can’t. I need him in my life]
In a smooth motion, he tossed it back inside the van and extended his hand to her. Luna stepped out gracefully, her confidence restored as her feet touched the ground. The cameras immediately went into overdrive, capturing every inch of her, but Jeonghan remained beside her, his hand still on hers, helping her as they moved forward together.
[MOM AND DAD ARE SO FUCKING HOT]
[CAN I BE THE THIRD IN THIS RELATIONSHIP?!]
[please, I’m begging… I can be a pet… I can bark]
The cheers from the crowd doubled as Luna appeared. The fans, who had been screaming the members’ names, now turned their attention to the only female member of SEVENTEEN, and the energy shifted.
But Jeonghan never let go of her hand, guiding her with a quiet but firm presence. He knew how these events worked, how easily one wrong angle could lead to unnecessary scrutiny. And so, even as they posed together on the red carpet, his body was angled ever so slightly in her favor, offering her the subtle kind of protection that no one would notice but her.
[😩😩😩😩]
[look at them]
The fans closest to the barricades noticed it, though. They had seen the entire interaction, from the way Jeonghan covered her with the blanket to the way he never once let her fend for herself. And it didn’t go unnoticed how he tossed the blanket away only once he was certain she was completely comfortable. Luna's smile was as radiant as ever, but beneath it was the comfort of knowing that, even in a sea of flashing lights and camera lenses, someone always had her back.
[ICONIC. SIMPLY ICONIC.]
[one of the most iconic Jeongna moments]
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THE BODY BLOCK ™
Next is my favorite out of the three… the ‘Body Block’
The night sky over Seoul was illuminated by the flashing lights of countless cameras, the red carpet stretching out like a sea of glamour and anticipation. It was the Cartier event of 2022, an evening that promised to bring together the city's most elegant and well-known figures.
Among them were Luna and Mingyu, two of Cartier’s most prominent models and brand ambassadors. Their presence alone was enough to send a ripple of excitement through the crowd, but the fact that they both wore red, in perfectly coordinated outfits, had the press buzzing.
[RED IS THEIR COLOR]
[I’m sorry– they looks so hot and intimidating]
Luna stepped out first, her heels clicking softly against the smooth surface of the red carpet. She was the embodiment of grace, her tall, slender frame draped in a stunning, floor-length red dress.
The dress was an exquisite piece— a bold, deep crimson that shimmered under the camera lights. It was strapless on one side, while the other featured a delicate, thin strap that wrapped over her shoulder, highlighting the gentle curve of her collarbone. The material clung to her figure in all the right ways, its fabric flowing down to her feet like liquid silk, pooling elegantly around her ankles. A daring slit along one side revealed a hint of her leg as she moved, but it was done tastefully, maintaining an air of sophistication and class.
[I WAS DROOLING WHEN I SAW HER]
[she doesn’t look real 😭]
[like– I’m convinced she’s a hologram]
Mingyu followed closely behind her, equally striking in his tailored red suit. The suit jacket was perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders, the crimson fabric complementing the sharp black of his shirt underneath.
[DOUBLE KILL]
[I AM SORRY— sir?!]
[I am loyal to Seungcheol… am I?]
Together, they made a captivating pair, their outfits harmonizing in a way that felt almost intentional, like they were meant to stand side by side on this particular night.
As they posed for the cameras, the flashes were relentless, a barrage of light capturing their every move. Luna stood tall, her chin slightly raised, one hand placed elegantly on her hip while her other arm hung loosely at her side. Beside her, Mingyu struck his own pose, the definition of cool confidence, his dark eyes locking with the cameras as they both stood center stage, an image of luxury and refinement.
[They’d be so hot together… I didn’t say that 😀]
And then it happened— so quickly that it could have been missed by anyone not paying attention. As Luna shifted her weight, turning her body slightly to change her angle, one of the thin straps of her dress slipped from her shoulder. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable at first, but as the strap fell, it revealed the bare skin of her shoulder.
[EVEN HER SHOULDER LOOKS PRETTIER THAN ME]
[DOES THAT MAKE SENSE!??]
Luna’s eyes flickered downward for a moment, a small crease of surprise appearing on her otherwise composed face.
Without missing a beat, she calmly reached up and tugged the strap back into place, her fingers grazing the cool fabric as she pulled it back over her shoulder. Her expression remained neutral, her movements composed— professional, as always. But Mingyu had seen it. The moment the strap fell, his attention snapped to her, eyes narrowing with concern for a fraction of a second.
[I’m convince every single member has spidey senses when it comes to her]
In a split-second decision, Mingyu moved. He stepped directly in front of Luna, his tall frame blocking her from the cameras with an easy, natural movement. His back was now facing the cameras, shielding her from their view as she adjusted the strap. His broad shoulders and the crimson jacket became a makeshift curtain, offering her privacy in an instant.
[🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️]
[LORD IT’S ME AGAIN]
[JEHUENDUWGYWGEJIWUDGUWBWKAIYWGUWB]
Luna looked up at him, her fingers still smoothing over the strap of her dress as she finished fixing it. Their eyes met, and for a moment, no words were needed. A small, appreciative smile touched her lips, her eyes softening as she gave him a simple nod of thanks.
Mingyu, always effortlessly cool, returned the gesture with a brief smile of his own, his eyes flickering with a silent understanding. Then, just as smoothly as he had positioned himself in front of her, he moved back to his original spot, turning to face the cameras once more, as if nothing had happened.
[THEY ALWAYS MAKE SURE SHE’S READY BEFORE THEY FUCKING STOP 🥹]
[they are so obedient too]
The photographers continued their frenzy, completely unaware of the quiet, protective exchange that had just taken place between the two. To them, it had been a seamless transition— nothing out of the ordinary. But to those paying close attention, the subtle moment of protection from Mingyu was not only graceful but instinctual, a sign of the quiet care he had for Luna, his fellow ambassador, and friend.
Together, they resumed their poses, their red outfits glowing under the lights, and once again, they became the perfect image of poise and elegance. But those who knew— who saw the quick flash of concern in Mingyu’s eyes and the gratitude in Luna’s smile— recognized the deeper connection between them, one that went beyond their roles on the red carpet.
The event continued, but that brief moment lingered, caught by the lucky fans who were watching closely enough to see the exchange, a testament to the unspoken bond shared by the two.
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THE BEAR BLOCK ™
And finally, the ‘Bear Block’
The soft glow of the hotel room’s ambient lighting bathed the cozy space in a warm hue as Minghao and Luna sat side by side on the edge of her bed, engaging with fans in their casual Weverse live. Luna’s hotel room was comfortably minimalistic—soft cream-colored walls, sleek furniture, and the faint scent of lavender wafting through the air from a diffuser on the nightstand. Behind them, a plush teddy bear sat tucked into the pillows, a gift Luna had received from a fan earlier that day, its little beady eyes gleaming under the camera's light.
[IT’S THE OTHER SET OF TWINS OF SEVENTEEN]
[the 97 line twins]
It was a typical live stream for the two— comfortable and relaxed. Luna, in her soft oversized hoodie, was leaning back against the bedpost while Minghao, dressed in his usual stylish yet casual attire, lounged next to her. Their conversation flowed naturally as they laughed and answered fans’ questions. Minghao would occasionally break into Chinese, his voice smooth as he spoke in his mother tongue, and Luna, always eager to learn, would repeat his phrases with childlike excitement, though her pronunciation was less polished.
[they are so cute 🥺]
[I love this duo so much]
Minghao chuckled each time she got it wrong, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “No, no, like this,” he’d say, gently correcting her, the fondness in his tone unmistakable. He would then patiently translate the meaning into Korean for her and their fans, smiling as Luna exaggeratedly repeated the words again, determined to get it right.
[I am so soft for them]
The chat was buzzing with messages, and the number of viewers kept rising steadily as more fans joined in, thrilled by the duo’s easy-going dynamic. Luna, always full of energy, glanced at the screen, her sharp eyes catching one of the rapid comments. She leaned forward to get a better look, her long hair cascading down one side of her face as she brought her face closer to her phone.
"Wait, what does this say—" Luna began, her voice trailing off mid-sentence. Just as she was about to read the comment aloud, Minghao, who had been fiddling with the teddy bear on the bed, made a swift movement. In a fraction of a second, without a word, he gently but firmly pressed the soft bear against her chest, covering her entirely from view.
[this cracked me up 😂]
[the fact the Hao just shoved the bear in front of her was just hilarious]
Luna froze for a heartbeat, her eyes widening in surprise as she realized what had just happened. Her body had leaned forward just a little too far, and in her oversized hoodie, there had been a chance she might have inadvertently revealed something on camera that wasn’t meant to be seen. Minghao, with his ever-watchful eye and sharp instincts, had noticed it instantly.
[Hao really said: “not on my watch.” 🧸]
Her breath hitched for a moment as she glanced at him, her face a mix of shock and silent gratitude. Minghao, his expression calm and collected, simply nodded at her in a way that conveyed everything without words. He didn’t make a big deal of it; his actions were smooth and almost invisible to the casual observer. His nod was one of quiet understanding, a signal that she didn’t need to worry— he had her back.
[He’s also so fucking hot, lawd]
Luna’s heart swelled with appreciation, but she played it cool. With a soft exhale, she shot him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you,” she muttered under her breath, barely audible but enough for Minghao to hear.
He gave a subtle smile in return, his eyes crinkling slightly as he continued to idly hold the bear in place, casually moving it as though it were part of their lighthearted banter.
Luna straightened back up, her posture relaxed once more, and resumed the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Luna’s smile returned as she read through more comments, her face as calm and composed as ever, a professional through and through.
[CUTIESSSSSS 💕💕💕]
They continued answering fan questions as the live stretched on, but the silent gesture lingered in the air like an unspoken promise— proof that, no matter what, Minghao was always watching out for her, and Luna was never truly alone.
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LUNA’S TRAINEE STORY IN GAME CATERERS 1-2
“It says here that you are known to cause fights.” PD Na said.
[THIS ENTIRE STORY RIGHT HERE]
The sudden statement caught everyone off guard. The members burst into laughter while Luna sat there, shocked and confused, unsure of how to respond.
“Me?” she asked, pointing to herself, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Fights? Where did you hear that?” She laughed, still trying to process the unexpected accusation.
[She’s just that bitch. She didn’t even know]
PD Na pointed at his paper, a teasing grin on his face. “We did our research. It says here that you caused a lot of fights when you were a trainee.”
A chorus of agreements erupted from the members, with many of them pointing at her and Jeonghan, nodding vigorously.
“That’s right!”
“He’s right!” they echoed, their voices overlapping as they teased her.
"This is amazing," Dokyeom laughed harder.
“What?” Luna turned to look at her members, her confusion deepening as she tried to piece together what they were talking about. "Huh? What are you guys talking about?"
Then her eyes landed on Jeonghan who was already watching her, and it all clicked. The realization dawned on her face, her expression shifting from confusion to understanding, and then to amusement. “Ah,” she laughed, finally catching on.
[SHE TOOK ONE LOOK AT JEONGHAN AND KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT]
Jeonghan, always the instigator, just grinned back at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
[he’s proud too]
As the memory clicked into place, Luna laughed harder, her laughter bubbling over as she covered her mouth with her hands. “This is amazing,” she marveled, still giggling. “How did you guys find out about that? I had completely forgotten about it.”
PD Na watched her with amusement, leaning forward slightly. “Can you tell us about it?” he asked, clearly intrigued.
Luna glanced at Jeonghan, who nodded in agreement, his smile knowing. She turned back to the group, preparing to recount the story. “It was when I was a trainee, and I was new at ‘PLEDIS’. This happened about five months after I joined,” Luna began, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. “This one time, I just had the hardest day. The training was intense, I was sick at that time as well, and I remember stressing over my exams because I was still in school.”
Everyone listened carefully, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. Her members, who knew the story well, giggled quietly, already anticipating where it was headed.
Luna continued, “I hadn’t eaten the entire day. I came to the practice room, and I had an apple. Then, one of the trainees came over, and he was teasing me.”
She paused, mimicking the boy’s actions by raising her hand as if holding something up high. “He took my apple, raised it up, and teased me to take it. He kept doing it and wouldn't give it to me up to the point that I just started crying,” Luna admitted, laughing at the memory of her younger, more vulnerable self.
“Aww,” the members and producers chorused, a mixture of sympathy and amusement in their voices.
[THEY ARE SO SOFT FOR HER WTF 🥺]
Luna pressed on, “Then, all of a sudden, Jeonghannie oppa came in.” She placed her hand on Jeonghan’s leg, and though he made no move, he continued listening to her, his smirk growing as he anticipated the end of the story. “He saw me crying, took one look at the apple, and then he went…”
Luna mimicked Jeonghan’s deep, angry voice and stern expression, saying, “‘Give it back'.”
The room exploded into shrieks. The members erupted in howls and laughter, some leaping out of their seats, while others covered their mouths in teasing disbelief. The laughter was contagious, filling the room. Luna and Jeonghan remained seated next to each other, smiling as the room buzzed with the chaotic energy of their shared memories.
[only same reaction]
As the laughter in the room finally began to die down, Luna continued the story, still smiling. “The trainee still wouldn’t give it back and thought Hannie oppa was joking with him,” she said, recalling the moment. “Then he went, ‘I said give it back,’ but the trainee just laughed at him. Oppa was one of the oldest, so it was a bit disrespectful…”
PD Na, fully invested in the story, leaned in slightly. “Then… what did he do?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Jeonghan, his voice calm and deep, answered this time, his eyes still carrying that signature droopy look as he smirked lazily. “I cursed him out.”
The casual delivery of his words contrasted with the intensity of the moment, making the members erupt into a chorus of teasing.
"Ooh, he cursed!"
"He really cursed him out!"
"He cursed!" they repeated, pointing at Jeonghan and laughing even harder.
Luna nodded, trying to keep a straight face, before wrapping up the story. "Then after that, we left, and he bought me food."
[out of all the things PLEDIS could’ve fucking released in that training room it could have been this!]
Before PD Na could reply, Seungkwan jumped in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There was also this one time. Maybe a year after that incident."
PD Na raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "There's another one?"
Luna, confused, turned to look at Seungkwan, who was seated behind her. "What else is there?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.
[SHE’S LOST]
"It happened a year before we debuted," Seungkwan leaned forward, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone. "Noona is beautiful. She's really beautiful. Even back then when she was younger, she hasn't changed at all. Not once. She looks the exact same. The only thing that changed is her height." He emphasized each word to PD Na, while Luna listened quietly, her members nodding in agreement.
[I AGREE]
"She was an extremely popular trainee," Seungkwan continued. "A lot of boys liked her."
[SAME]
With that, a chorus of agreements spilled from the mouths of the members. "That's true," Mingyu said, nodding along with the others.
[GOOD. SO WE ALL AGREE.]
"There was a time when two trainees were literally arguing about her because they both liked her, and they decided to talk to her about it and make her decide," Seungkwan added, glancing over at Luna with a grin.
"I remember this," S.Coups chuckled, his eyes lighting up with the memory.
Luna’s eyes widened as she finally recalled the story. "Oh, right! Once they saw me, they started arguing in front of me," she nodded, using her hands to illustrate the scene.
[She explained that as if it’s the most normal thing in the world]
"Right. They were literally fighting in front of her," Seungkwan affirmed. "The members present tried to make them stop, but one thing led to another, and they both grabbed Luna by each hand," Seungkwan demonstrated the movement, grabbing Wonwoo’s arm to illustrate the point.
[WHAT I WOULD DO TO SEE THIS]
"Jeonghan… He was the angriest I've ever seen him in my life," Seungkwan said, raising his hand as if swearing to the truth.
[WHAT I WOULD DO TO SEE THIS PT. 2]
Seungkwan then stood up, pulling Wonwoo to his feet to act out the scene. "Jeonghan went up to them and just…" He mimicked Jeonghan’s aggressive stance, facing Wonwoo head-on, his expression fierce.
"Jeonghan had really long hair back then, so it was swaying like this," Seungkwan added, shaking his head from side to side, imitating the way Jeonghan’s hair had moved during the confrontation. "'Let go,'" he said in a deep, angry voice, perfectly mimicking Jeonghan.
[ANGRY JEONGHAN + LONG-HAIRED JEONGHAN = 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️]
Another chorus of amused, teasing "Oohs" erupted from the members, while Luna sat laughing, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
S.Coups, still seated, shook his head with a grin. "I had to get him off. It was the first time I saw Jeonghan angry as well," he confessed, looking at Jeonghan with a mixture of admiration and amusement.
[good lord. PLEDIS RELEASE THE FOOTAGE NOW. I KNOW YOU HAVE IT THERE SOMEWHERE]
PD Na directed his attention to Jeonghan, raising an eyebrow with an amused smile. "It seems like you're involved in a lot of these stories."
[He knows what’s up]
Before Jeonghan could respond, Dokyeom cut in with a knowing grin. "Jeonghan is the most protective of Luna."
[I BEG TO DIFFER BUT ACCURATE]
Luna quickly interjected, shaking her head with a smile. "No, it’s because he was the first person I became friends with when I joined. He was the person I was most comfortable with."
[🥹🥹🥹]
Jeonghan finally spoke up, his tone nonchalant as if the answer was obvious. "How else am I supposed to react during that situation?"
[right. right. right.]
Hoshi chimed in, nodding in agreement. "He’s cool."
"Very cool," Minghao said.
[He’s hot too]
Seungkwan, ever the dramatic one, couldn’t resist adding his flair. "I swear it was like a drama," he said, his voice filled with exaggerated emotion. "It was like you could hear the song play… 'Almost Paradise'…'" He sang the familiar tune, sending the room into another round of laughter.
[YESSSSSSSSSS]
PD Na, still chuckling, looked back at Jeonghan and Luna. "It’s because she’s your best friend. You two are the closest."
Both Luna and Jeonghan nodded, confirming the bond they shared.
"She's like your younger sister," PD Na added thoughtfully.
[sure]
Jeonghan, who had been nodding in agreement, suddenly faltered. "N– y–yes," he stuttered, quickly changing his answer.
[HE AINT SLICK AT ALL]
The subtle exchange of looks between Jeonghan and Luna that followed didn’t go unnoticed. Jeonghan's eyes lingered on her for just a moment, while Luna remained composed, though there was a fleeting glint of something unspoken in her eyes. It was a small, almost imperceptible moment, but the hesitation in Jeonghan’s response added a strange tension to the room that only the members noticed and understood as if there was more to the story than they were letting on.
[CALL ME INSANE BUT THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE]
[THE MEMBERS KNOW TOO]
PD Na, oblivious to the undercurrent, chuckled again. "I never thought you would be the type of person to fight," he remarked to Jeonghan, amused by the contrast between his usual calm demeanor and the stories being told.
The room burst into laughter again, and in perfect sync, both Luna and Jeonghan replied, "You’d think."
[GOD I LOVE THEM]
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LUNA’S ALMOST FACE-PLANTING OFF THE STAGE
It was the encore stage of SEVENTEEN’s ‘Be The Sun’ concert in Los Angeles, the never-ending loop of ‘Very Nice’ ringing through the arena as the crowd screamed and chanted along. The energy was electric, and all fourteen members were spread across the stage, bouncing with uncontainable excitement.
[it’s always this song btw]
[shit always happens during this never-ending song]
They’d already run through what seemed like a dozen rounds of the song, yet the adrenaline kept them going, fueled by the roars of the fans.
Luna, like the rest, was in high spirits, hopping from side to side, her voice blending with the sea of cheers as she waved down to the fans in the pit.
[SPIT ON ME– w-what?!]
She had found herself at the very edge of the stage, close enough that she could see the eager faces reaching up toward her, arms outstretched and phones recording every moment. Luna smiled and waved, her fingers making heart signs as she interacted with the fans who screamed her name in delight.
[She’s adorable and hot at the same time]
[like– how does one achieve that skill]
Her hair was slightly damp from all the jumping, and she pushed it out of her face, not noticing the sheen of water accumulating by her feet. The other members had been throwing water bottles into the crowd moments earlier, and the puddles left behind were nearly invisible under the bright concert lights.
In the heat of the moment, Luna took a step forward, her foot catching the slick surface beneath her. Her sneakers slid out from under her, and for a brief, terrifying second, her body lurched forward, dangerously close to toppling off the stage. Her balance was gone, the crowd gasping in unison as they watched her stumble.
[SHE LITERALLY WAS THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO SEEING JESUS]
But before gravity could pull her down, two pairs of hands shot out— firm and fast. Dino, who had been dancing nearby, immediately grabbed her left arm with a firm grip, his reflexes kicking in as he sensed her falling. At the same moment, Vernon, who had been casually walking past on her right, caught her other arm, his hands locking around her elbow with precision. Together, the two maknaes stabilized her, each holding on tightly as she regained her footing.
[THEY BOTH LOOKED EQUALLY TERRIFIED]
[Someone bubble wrap Jiyeonie I’m so serious]
For a moment, everything seemed to pause. The three of them stood frozen, catching their breaths as the arena’s lights flashed around them.
[the way the three of them just froze]
Luna’s heart raced as she realized how close she had been to a disastrous fall, right in front of thousands of fans. She turned to look at Dino and Vernon, their hands still gripping her arms firmly. Their faces mirrored a mixture of concern and relief, and they exchanged a silent understanding in that brief, weighty second.
Luna, her chest heaving, mouthed the words, “Thank you… I almost died,” her eyes wide with mock dramatization.
Her words, though lost in the chaos of the concert, were picked up by eagle-eyed fans close enough to lip-read the exchange. Dino let out a relieved laugh, his lips quirking into a smile, while Vernon gave a subtle nod, eyes flicking toward her with a smirk, as if to say, “Yup, you almost died.”
In the span of a heartbeat, the moment passed. Dino and Vernon released their hold as she straightened herself, shaking off the near-incident. Luna turned back to the audience with a bright grin, as if nothing had happened, raising her arms and encouraging the crowd to scream even louder.
[SHE’S SO UNSERIOUS 😂]
The fans, unaware of just how close she’d been to falling, cheered even harder, oblivious to the small protective moment that had unfolded before their eyes.
As the three continued dancing, the members spread back out across the stage, the concert’s rhythm never missing a beat.
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THIS LIVE THAT MAKES MY BLOOD BOIL
Hoshi’s live had started like any other, full of laughter, easy conversation, and the familiar warmth of interacting with fans. As he sat in front of the camera, casually talking about everything from the group’s upcoming schedules to his favorite food that day, the comments section filled with excitement, fans from all over the world typing out their love and admiration for SEVENTEEN's energetic tiger.
[AH YES, ANOTHER CLIP THAT PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF]
But then, the live took an unexpected turn as both Joshua and Luna suddenly appeared on screen. Joshua casually strolled into the room, his ever-present smile lighting up his face as he greeted the viewers. “Hey, everyone!” he said, settling down beside Hoshi.
Luna followed quietly, a soft, polite wave to the camera as she sat next to Joshua. Her presence, while usually met with joy from fans, always came with its fair share of negativity as well, something she’d long since come to terms with as the only female member of SEVENTEEN.
At first, the chat exploded with excitement.
“OMG Joshua!!”
“YAY, Jiyeonie is here too!!”
“Look at these visuals!!!”
But quickly, as always, the tide began to shift. Hidden between the floods of hearts and cheers, darker comments started appearing.
They always did.
“Why is she even here?”
“We only wanted Joshua and Hoshi, not her.”
“She ruins it as always.”
“Please leave, no one wants to see you.”
Luna sat quietly, her eyes flickering over the comments, her usual smile frozen on her face. She had grown used to this, a side effect of being the only girl in a thirteen-member male-dominated group.
[YOU MOTHERFUCKERS BETTER ROT IN HELL]
[look at her face!]
No matter how much love she received, there were always those who couldn't accept her presence.
Over the years, she had developed a thick skin.
She knew she didn’t need to prove herself to anyone, that she was just as much a part of SEVENTEEN as any of the others, but that didn’t make it any less uncomfortable to read such words over and over again. It was as though the hate was a dark cloud that hovered just beyond the warmth of the stage lights, waiting to seep in whenever she let her guard down.
Joshua, sitting next to her, immediately sensed the shift in her demeanor. His sharp eyes noticed how her usual bubbly chatter had quieted down, how she glanced at the screen but didn’t engage as much as she normally would.
[I am just happy she has them 🥺]
[she doesn’t deserve the hate]
Without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his touch comforting and protective. His gaze met hers in a brief exchange, asking the question without saying a word: Are you okay?
[🥹🥹🥹]
Luna looked up at him and gave a small nod, her lips curving into a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It wasn’t the hate that bothered her, not anymore— it was how people could hold so much anger and vitriol for someone they didn’t even know. Still, she remained quiet, determined not to let the negative comments ruin the mood of the live.
[BAE JIYEON WE LOVE YOU ALWAYS AND FOREVER 💖💖💖]
But Hoshi, ever the observant one, wasn’t about to let it slide. His bright, playful expression faded as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes scanning the comments section intently.
[ngl his shift in attitude gave me fucking chills]
[Hoshi really went from 🐹 to🐯]
Luna watched out of the corner of her eye as his fingers moved across the screen, quietly and deliberately reporting the hateful messages one by one. Only she and Joshua could see what he was doing, but fans started speculating in the chat as well, noticing the change in his expression and how his focus shifted from conversation to something else entirely.
[HE REALLY SAID “TRY ME BITCH”]
[he was mass reporting the shit out of them hoes]
Then, after a few moments of silence, Hoshi sat back, his face serious, his usually playful tone replaced with something much firmer, more resolute. His voice carried an edge that left no room for argument, yet he wasn’t aggressive— just calm, measured, and unwavering. He addressed the chat directly, his eyes staring straight into the camera.
[HELP— HE IS GENUINELY TERRIFYING ANGRY]
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, then you should just leave,” Hoshi said, his words clear and firm. “This live is for all of us to have fun and spend time together. I won’t tolerate disrespect toward any of my members. If you don’t like it, that’s fine— but I won’t have people being rude. That’s not what SEVENTEEN is about, and that’s not the kind of fans we want. So if you’re here to spread hate, you’re not welcome.”
[SHIT– I… 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️]
[RAWR! THAT’S THE TIGER IN HIM]
He paused, his expression softening just slightly, but his message was unmistakable. “Let’s all just be kind to each other, okay? That’s the kind of energy we need.”
[AMEN TO THAT!]
[YOU LOSERS HEAR HIM?!]
The chat exploded with a mix of reactions. Supportive fans immediately flooded the comments with love for Luna, agreeing with Hoshi’s words and calling out the haters who had been leaving negative comments. But there were still others who continued to protest, claiming they had a right to their opinions, or that they hadn’t said anything wrong.
Through it all, Luna stayed quiet. She occasionally responded to a few positive comments, forcing a smile here and there, but her heart wasn’t in it. Joshua and Hoshi tried their best to lighten the mood, playfully nudging her to join the conversation, but the damage had already been done— not because she was hurt by the hate, but because it confused her.
How could people carry so much anger, so much spite, for someone they didn’t even know? It was a question she couldn’t answer and one that weighed on her more than the comments themselves.
[she looked sad the entire time]
[I’m so sorry, baby 🥺]
As the live continued, the mood eventually lightened again, thanks to Hoshi’s relentless energy and Joshua’s calm, steady presence. But for Luna, the evening felt a little heavier, her mind drifting back to the reality of her position as SEVENTEEN's only female member. She would never let the hate break her, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t exhausting.
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“BAE JIYEON MARRY ME!”
The air was buzzing with excitement inside the venue as fans eagerly waited for the fan sign event to begin. The members of SEVENTEEN sat in a line, comfortably seated behind a long table on the stage, each with their markers in hand, ready to greet their Carats up close. The stage lights cast a soft glow over the group as they casually chatted amongst themselves, waving occasionally to the fans in the audience, who were waiting for their turn.
Luna, seated between Joshua and Minghao, was twirling her marker absentmindedly, her attention drifting between the other members' conversations and the distant murmur of the crowd. The relaxed energy around her was something she always cherished at fan signs— a rare chance to connect with the fans on a more personal level.
[I HAVE SAID IT ONCE AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN… SHE IS BEAUTIFUL… AND SMOKING HOT 😍🥵]
But just as Luna was about to engage in a conversation with Minghao, a loud, booming voice from the audience broke through the steady hum of the crowd.
“BAE JIYEON, MARRY ME!”
[Honestly… valid]
The sudden, bold declaration reverberated across the room, sending ripples of surprise and laughter through the fans. Luna, completely caught off guard, froze mid-spin, her eyes widening as she looked up toward the sea of fans. Her heart jumped in her chest, not from the proposal itself, but from the unexpected shock of it all.
[She’s adorable]
[She’s also concerned]
A chorus of laughter and amused giggles rose from the audience. Luna, still recovering from the jolt of surprise, reached for the mic in front of her, her lips curving into an amused smile.
She was about to reply, maybe tease the fan back, but before she could even bring the mic to her lips, the response came— not from her, but from the thirteen members seated beside her.
[And there they go…]
A resounding, collective, and very loud “NO!” erupted from her bandmates. The word shot across the room in unison, like a protective shield around her, each member adding their own flair to the rejection.
[THEY CRACK ME TF UP 😂]
Seungcheol was the first to react, playfully crossing his arms over his chest and giving a mock glare toward the fan as he leaned back in his seat. “Absolutely not,” he added, shaking his head as if to cement the point.
Dino and Jun, sitting a few seats down, followed suit, their arms shooting up into the air in exaggerated protest. “No, no, no!” They chanted, shaking their fingers dramatically, their expression both comical and stern.
Hoshi, always one to escalate things, leaned forward in his chair, his voice loud and booming as he pointed into the audience. “You’ve got some nerve!” he said playfully, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Jiyeon’s not going anywhere, you hear me?”
The fans roared with laughter, thoroughly entertained by the group’s immediate and united defense. Even Woozi, known for his quieter reactions, shook his head silently, his lips forming a firm, resolute “no” as he glanced down the line at Luna, his protective instincts subtly showing.
Mingyu, seated at the far end, leaned into his mic. “Good try, though,” he deadpanned, earning another round of chuckles from the audience.
[MENACES]
Luna couldn’t help but laugh, her shoulders shaking as the members continued their playful scolding. It was a chaotic chorus of no’s, some loud and exaggerated, others quiet but firm. The overwhelming display of protection from her members warmed her heart, and she could see the amusement spreading among the fans as well.
[JIYEON JUST SAT THERE LIKE: “YUP 😇”]
Even the fan who had shouted the proposal was laughing along, clearly enjoying the playful banter his boldness had sparked.
As the ruckus continued, Luna finally leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with a grin. The mic still rested in her hand, but there wasn’t much for her to say— her bandmates had already spoken loud and clear.
Then, amidst the fading echoes of laughter, Jeonghan, who had remained relatively quiet during the exchange, finally spoke up. His voice was calm and smooth as he brought his mic to his lips, his usual playful smirk replaced with something more composed.
“Sorry, but that question is sensitive for us,” he said nonchalantly, though there was a glint in his eyes that made it clear there was more truth to his words than his tone let on.
[Translation: “Only I get to ask her to marry me.”]
The laughter in the room softened, and for a split second, a quiet fell over the stage as Luna and the rest of the members registered the weight behind Jeonghan’s words. It was a joke, of course, but Luna knew Jeonghan better than most— and she could tell he was serious.
He always was when it came to her.
Luna’s laughter faded into a softer smile, a silent understanding passing between her and Jeonghan as their eyes briefly met across the table. He gave her a small, reassuring nod, and she returned it, appreciating the subtle way he always looked out for her. Even in moments like this, where the line between playfulness and sincerity blurred, Jeonghan’s protectiveness always shone through.
[STOP FLIRTING WITH MOM, DAD!]
The fans, blissfully unaware of the deeper meaning behind his words, erupted into laughter once again, the lighthearted atmosphere quickly returning. Luna, feeling the warmth of her members’ care, picked up the mic at last and shook her head, addressing the original fan who had proposed.
“I think you got your answer,” she said with a teasing smile, the laughter in her voice unmistakable.
[Translation: “Only Yoon Jeonghan gets to marry me.”]
The fans cheered, and the rest of the members continued to playfully banter as the fan sign officially began. But throughout the rest of the event, Luna couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the family she had in SEVENTEEN— their protectiveness, their loyalty, and their unwavering support. It wasn’t always easy being the only female member, but in moments like this, she knew she wasn’t alone.
And there you have it, folks! Just a small glimpse into SEVENTEEN’s ultimate protective instincts when it comes to their one and only Luna. I mean, if you ever had any doubts about how loved this girl is, well… think again.
Thirteen men— yes, thirteen— willing to risk it all, fight the world, and probably even dive into traffic if it meant keeping her safe. So, a quick reminder to all: Never— and I mean NEVER— mess with Bae Jiyeon unless you want these maniacs after you.
But hey, can you really blame them? Luna’s got their backs, and they’ve got hers. It’s a whole family thing at this point.
Thanks for watching! Don’t forget to comment on more wholesome SEVENTEEN content you want to see next! See you next time— unless you’re out there trying to propose to Luna… in which case… good luck with that!”
comments…
@/lunababybae • 10 months ago ╰ Luna’s sasaeng attack pisses me off but angry and protective Cheol makes up for it 🥵
@/mimilyemily • 10 months ago ╰ DID YOU SEE HOW FAST CHOI SEUNGCHEOL AND JEON WONWOO REACTED AT 1:00 GOOD LORD
@/gyusshadow • 10 months ago ╰ OUR LEADER SCOLDING SECURITY FOR LUNA 🥺 MY MAN RIGHT THERE!!!
@/moonlight_1997 • 10 months ago ╰ Jeonghan caressing Luna’s red arm 1:25 idk if I am to feel soft over him touching her like that or pissed off that her arm is red because of that sasaeng 🙃
@/saythename • 8 months ago ╰ Seokminie zipping Jiyeonie up that quick during Fear is a skill and a hot skill at that!
@/jeonwoowonwoo • 7 months ago ╰ They are all so protective of her, it’s super endearing 💖🥺
@/mrsbaebae • 7 months ago ╰ THE THREE BLOCKS ARE ICONIC!!!
@/jeongnanana • 7 months ago ╰ THESE MEN ARE THE STANDARD WTF!? JUST THE WAY THEY TREAT LUNA IS PROOF ENOUGH 💕🤭
@/gyuuuuudaily • 6 months ago
╰ YOON JEONGHAN DEFENDING LUNA DURING THEIR TRAINEE DAYS IS STILL ONE OF THE BEST STORIES I HAVE EVER HEARD TILL THIS DAY!!!
@/bbbiiibbiii • 5 months ago ╰ That exchange of looks from Luna and Hannie at 19:57 😍😍😍
@/missbitchhhh • 3 months ago ╰ note to self: “How to get Svt to notice you = ask Luna to marry you.”
@/shadowmyshadow• 2 months ago ╰ I have completely erased that Hoshi live from my mind. Seeing Luna sad and quiet like that breaks me 🥺
@/kpppopieaddict • 1 week ago ╰ They are all down bad for her wbk (I am too).
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ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!
: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ
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Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav
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tiredsmashbros · 1 day
Text
SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE
oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.
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starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!
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here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!
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jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!
currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.
and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!
CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!
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oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away
now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...
if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]
ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd
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thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...
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deadhands69 · 2 days
Text
A Fantasy with Nice Shoulders
MDNI
Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here
Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader
All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this
Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.
*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut 
**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while
***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]
“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice. 
You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week. 
While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with. 
“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”
Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.
You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.
Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help. 
And you’ll be fine. 
You think. 
Or maybe you won’t be.
The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.
You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them. 
Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes. 
You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different. 
You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”
That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.
Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.
Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.
You didn’t fucking ask for this.
Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it. 
“What happened?”
Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”
Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.
“Are you that fucking stupid?”
“N-no we just thought-” 
Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.
“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”
“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”
“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”
“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”
“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”
“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.
Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked. You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.  
“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.
KNOCK KNOCK.
You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?
“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.
“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.
“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.
“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?” 
“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-
“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”
Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.
“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.
“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”
“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry. 
“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face. 
Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.
Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.” 
It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.
Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders. 
Back to reality.
He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.
Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.
“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.
“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.
“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.
The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall. 
Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.
Here it goes. 
“Bakugo?”
“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”
“I need your help.”
“Whaddya need?”
“You.”
He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.
“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.
He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you. 
But when he’s right here with you. 
When he leans in closer. 
His lips barely brush against yours. 
Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.
He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.
“Oh.” you breathe.
“Did I do somethin wrong?”
“No, I just didn't expect that.”
He rolls his eyes. 
“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.
“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.
Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.
Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.
He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.
But having you now? Like this?
“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?” 
“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”
“No weirder than ever. Why?” 
He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.
“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”
“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”
“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.” 
“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?
Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.
Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.
Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.   
One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.  
“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.
He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”
Perfect.
Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter. 
“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.
You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it. 
Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.
“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”
Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.
“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.
Absolutely, you do.
A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair. 
You’re almost there.
KNOCK KNOCK.
“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”
“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing)  to control your breath.
Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.
“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.
Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.
Shoto inquires next,  “are you sure, we read more and-”
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.
“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles. 
“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.
“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in. 
How many people are out there??
“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.
You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.
Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.
Useful. Thanks Creati.
He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.
“Ready now?” he grins at you.
Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement. 
His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.
“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.” 
“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.
Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.
A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.
As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch. 
“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.
“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.
You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.
He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.
“Again?” you ask.
“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.
“Almost.”
“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck. 
In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you. 
“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."
The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.
Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.
Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.
His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.
“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.
With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.
He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.
“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”
“Definitely”
Definitely better but 
So.
Fucking.
Exhausted. 
A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty.  Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you. 
You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.
Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.
Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx
You check your phone. 
[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls] 
The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki. 
You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?]
Katsuki [see you soon]
Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.
Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways. 
Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!” 
“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.
Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”
Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.
Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact. 
Denki high-fives you. 
Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.
Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.
Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.
Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt. 
Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.
You [just looked in the mirror]
You [why didn’t you warn me???]
Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡]
[you have 8 new messages]
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Text
Book Club
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modern!aemond x fem!reader 
Summary: A man comes into your book store and you both exchange book recommendations. This turns into you both having discussions about your thoughts and theories and feelings begin to blossom. 
Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f), p in v, unprotected 
Authors Note: i literally have to restrain myself from writing for this man bc im actually rabid :)
Word Count: 6.6k oops 
                                  ᓚᘏᗢ
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I groan resting against the counter watching all of the people walk past my shop. This is the slowest time of day so I resort to curling up in the chair near the windows and pulling out my current read. The soft music through the speakers helps set the mood and soon I’m immersed into my book. I look up when the bell on the door rings. 
“Hi, welcome in.” I close my book and rise from the chair. “Is there anything I can help you with?” I offer him a smile as my eyes meet his. 
“No, thank you.” his voice soft as he brushes past me. 
“Let me know if that changes.” I call after him as he delves deeper into the store. I bring my book to the counter and begin to read. I lean over the counter as I get to a particularly tense part and let the store drift away. I gasp at the sentence I just read and shove my bookmark into the pages and shut the book. 
“That’s how you can tell it’s a good book.” I jump at the man’s words. 
“I’m sorry.” I look up to him with flushed cheeks. “You could’ve said something.” I move the book off the side. 
“I knew what part you were at and it’s best left uninterrupted.” he offers me a smile that softens his sharp features. 
“You’ve read this one?” I beam. “This is the first book I’ve read by this author and I’m thoroughly enjoying it.” he places his books on the counter. 
“I can recommend some others too. If you want.” he offers and I nod my head. I get out a pen and paper and slide them over to him. I watch as he scribbles out a couple titles and pushes it back to me. I pull out another sheet and write some of my own recommendations. 
“If you want them. You don’t have to but I thought I’d give you some recommendations as well.” I nibble my lip and he folds the paper and places it in his pocket. 
“Thank you.” he offers me another smile that turns him into every male fantasy I’ve ever had. 
“Did you find everything alright?” I hum as I start to ring up his books trying to avoid staring at him for too long.
“I did. It’s a lovely shop.” he nods to me as his eye scans me over.
“Thank you. I try to keep it warm and welcoming.” I place his books in a bag and offer it to him. 
“Is it yours?” he offers me cash. 
“It is.” I smile typing into the register. 
“Then I will see you here when I need another book.” he hums taking the change from my hand. 
“I can’t wait to hear what you think of the books.” I smile to him before pulling my book back out. 
“Likewise.” he nods before dipping out the door and leaving me to my book once more. 
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I shake my head shutting my book and slamming it on the table. That was simultaneously one of the best and worst endings to a book I’ve ever read. I look through my aisles searching for the next book on the list when I hear the bell on the door jingle. 
“Hi, welcome in how-“ I stop when I see it’s him. “Gods I just finished the first book you recommended. The ending was just..” I trail off shaking my head. 
“I didn’t think you would actually read them.” he squints his eye with a hint of a smile. 
“I was just looking for the second book on the list.” I smile up at him as I start to walk back to the aisles. I turn and see that he’s following behind me with a smile as we stop and look for the title. 
“I can borrow you mine. Although I guess you do own a bookstore..” he trails off pulling the book down from the top shelf. “Here.” he offers it to me. 
“You can bring me the third one on here.” I pull the list out of my pocket. “I can bring you one of mine. If you want.” I flip through the pages of the book I’m holding. 
“I would like that. When do you want me to bring it?” his smile brightens up his whole face. 
“I’ll probably be done with this before the end of the week.” I look at the page numbers and nod my head. 
“Then I’ll come on Friday?” he tilts his head. 
“That’s perfect.” I smile. “If you have time can I make you coffee or tea and we could discuss the book I just finished? I’m dying to talk about it.” I nibble my lip studying him. 
“I would like that.” he hums. “Tea would be nice.” I wave him over to the chairs as I begin to prepare his drink. I steal glances at his perfectly groomed long silver hair and internally sigh at how beautiful he is. 
“I hope I’m not interrupting your day.” I turn back to him and he shakes his head. 
“I had no plans besides coming here.” his words make me feel like less of a burden. I bring him his tea and I sit with my cup and we start talking. We talk for well over an hour and our cups are soon forgotten and turn cold. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it.” he rests his head in his hand watching me talk. 
“I’ll stop and let you get back to your day.” I stretch my legs out from the chair. 
“Point me in the direction of the first book on the list you gave me.” he prompts me and I stand with a smile. 
“Of course, this way.” I nod for him to follow. I stop at a shelf and I pull the book down. I hold it against my chest and turn to look up at him. I see his knowing smile and sigh. 
“And what kind of romance book will this be?” he holds his hand out and I feel my cheeks heat. 
“A good one.” I purse my lips flaring my nostrils. 
“I’ll decide that.” he chuckles grabbing the book from my hands. 
“It’s not just a romance book. Just give it a try.” I pout before brushing past him. “I’ll be up front when you’re ready or if you need any other help.” 
“Can you find me the other two on your list?” I stop in my tracks at his words. 
“But I was gunna bring you them?” I scrunch my eyebrows turning to him. 
“You’ve already read two of mine so I need to catch up. At least let me buy the second one too.” he smiles. “I want to be able to talk about them on Friday.” a smile spreads across my face at his words. I lead him down a couple of aisles and pull a book from the shelf. 
“I really enjoyed reading this one and I can’t wait to hear what you think about it.” I admire the cover and hand it to him. 
“I’ll come with all of my thoughts and theories.” he hums and follows me back to the register. “When and where do you want me to meet you?” he places the books on the counter. 
“Here at like seven?” I ring in his books and look to him. 
“I’ll be here.” he nods his head. “I never got your name.” he hands me cash and I realize I haven’t gotten his name either. 
“Y/n.” I place his change in his hand. 
“Aemond.” he smiles grabbing his books from the counter. 
“I hope you enjoy the books, Aemond.” he looks at me with a soft smile. 
“I’ll see you Friday, Y/n.” he nods his head and slips out the door. 
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I quickly walk around the store cleaning up after close and start to brew some tea. I don’t know if I should’ve brought something more or if this is enough. I sigh shaking my head and sit in the chair to wait for Aemond to arrive. I stand up with a smile spread across my face when he walks through the door. 
“Aemond.” I beam and usher him inside before I shut and lock the door behind him. I can’t help but look over him and admire him as he strides into the store. 
“Locking us in?” he turns and raises an eyebrow at me. 
“Well the stores closed and I don’t want us to be interrupted.” I walk over to the table and begin to make him a cup of tea. I bring it over to him with a smile that he’s already sitting and comfortable with the books in his lap. “It’s like we’re having a little book club.” I coo placing the cup in his hands and see his cheeks redden. 
“How was your week?” he hums before taking a sip. 
“I had another great book to get me through.” I curl up in the chair across from him. 
“You liked it?” his eye lights up as I nod to him. 
“It was perfect. I think I liked this one more than the last.” I settle back into the chair and study him. 
“What was your favorite part?” he watches me talk about the book for the next thirty minutes with a soft smile on his face. He asks me questions, content to listen to me talk about the book. We discuss theories and I decide I could sit in this chair and listen to his soft voice for hours. 
“Do you want more tea before we start with your books?” I start to uncurl from the chair. 
“Let me.” he hums getting up and grabbing my cup from my hands. 
“Thank you.” I smile up at him as I settle back. He brings me my cup filled and steaming with tea. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring more. Like food or other drinks.” I nibble my lip allowing my hands to hug the warmth from the mug. 
“Your company is enough.” my eyes look to his as a blush creeps up my neck. 
“Tell me what you thought of the first one.” I offer him a shy smile. 
“It wasn’t just a romance, you were right.” he talks about the book with a smile and I watch him talk. His features are relaxed as he talks and I can’t help but admire him. I sip on my tea and nod my head at his words. 
“You’re very thoughtful.” he studies me with a curious expression.
“I really did like the second one too.” he picks up the book. “Different than what I expected.” he pats the book on his lap. We go back and forth about the characters and what we think their true motives were. We watch each other in silence for seconds or minutes before he hands me the other book in his lap. 
“Here’s mine.” I stretch across handing him mine. 
“I’ll treat it with care.” he hums adding it to his pile. 
“I really enjoyed my night.” I smile watching him run his fingers down the spine of the book. 
“I did too. When do you want to meet again? If you want to, of course.” his eye looks away from me. 
“I would love that.” I respond quickly nodding my head. “We can meet here again if you want. I can bring us actual food and drinks.” I tilt my head. 
“Or you could come to mine and I could cook for us.” he offers and I chuckle. “Hm?” he smiles at me. 
“Of course you cook.” I look up shaking my head. 
“Is that a bad thing?” he scrunches his brows. 
“No, you’re just perfect.” I sigh and he chuckles. 
“I’m not.” he shakes his head. 
“From what I know, you are.” I hold his book in my lap. “I would enjoy it if you cooked me dinner while we talked about books.” I nibble on my lip. 
“Tell me when.” he leans back looking me over. 
“I could have this finished in three days.” I size up the book. 
“So Monday?” I nod. “What time do you want me to pick you up?” 
“Around seven again? Unless that’s too late?” I start to stretch out my legs. 
“I’ll be here at seven.” he smiles standing up. “Have a good weekend, Y/n.” he starts to walk to the door. 
“Enjoy the book, Aem.” I call after him and he pauses at the door. I get worried about the nickname I gave him until I see his shoulders relax and he turns back to me and offers me a smile before leaving.
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“You’re early.” I look up when I see Aemond enter. My tongue darts across my lips as I take him in and he offers me a smirk as I come to the counter. 
“I can wait.” he hums placing his ring clad fingers on the marble. 
“I’ll be quick.” I drag my eyes up to his. I whisk through the shop making sure the aisles are clean and there’s no stray books. I make my way back to him and drink in his form leaning against the counter. His attention turns to me and my cheeks flush. I go behind the counter to grab my purse and l go to his side. 
“Ready?” he looks down at me. 
“I am.” I hum and he leads me out to his car. He opens the door for me and I slip in and wait for him to get behind the wheel. The drive to his house is quick. As we walk up the sidewalk I stop to take in his manicured yard that seems to have nothing out of place. 
“You can come in. I won’t kill you.” my eyes find him at his words and a giggle bubbles out of me. “Or we can sit in the grass if you want, but the sprinklers might come on.” 
“You’re not getting out of making me dinner that easily.” I smile coming to his side as he opens the front door for me. I look around at his subtle yet ornate decorations. “You have a beautiful home.” I hum turning to him. 
“Thank you.” he smiles slipping off his jacket and I can’t help but look at the way his shirt is spread across his toned chest. 
“Come.” he gestures me to follow him and we end in the kitchen. He pulls out a chair for me to sit at the counter while he goes to the other side. “Tell me about your weekend.” he requests as he starts to pull out ingredients. 
“The store was busier than normal, not that I’m complaining. I’m happy more people are starting to read. Although, it did interrupt my reading time.” I sigh and he chuckles. 
“How long have you owned the store?” he hums turning on the stovetop. 
“A couple years. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” I get lost in thought about everything it took for me to get here. 
“That’s impressive. You should be proud.” he smiles to me and my cheeks tint. 
“Thank you.” I watch him begin to chop something. “What about you? What do you do for work?” I rest my head in my hands watching him. 
“I work with my family.” his response short as he starts on another task. 
“Do you like it?” I try to pry a little more. 
“Yes and no.” he shrugs. “It’s been more tolerable since I’ve gotten my own place.” he drops the ingredients in a pan and I hear it sizzle. 
“Families can be interesting.” I nod and he chuckles. 
“To say the least.” he shakes his head before turning to me. “Do you have a big family?” he tilts his head. 
“No, it’s just me. I just couldn’t- I moved away.” I shake my head meeting his eye. 
“I was going to raise my glass to you but I just realized I’m a terrible host and haven’t offered you anything.” his eye widens and I chuckle. 
“It’s okay, Aemond.” I smile. “I’d be happy to die of thirst in your kitchen.” his eye snaps to mine as a smile spreads across his face. 
“Tea?” he tilts his head. 
“I can make it. You’re cooking.” I slide off the stool and spot his electric kettle. I start to fill the kettle and place it back on waiting for it to boil. 
“I have a lot of options.” he opens the cabinet above me. 
“Are you running a cafe?” I chuckle looking over the different flavors. 
“I could be.” his tone playful. 
“Mm and what are the hours?” I reach for a couple packets. 
“I’ll be open whenever you want me to be.” I turn to him at his words. 
“How generous. Always wanting to satisfy your customers.” we smile at each other before going back to our tasks. I bring him a cup and take mine back to the other side of the counter. He begins to finish this meal and plates it. 
“Go to the dining room.” he nods his head to the softly lit room. 
“I can help bring things out.” I stand there looking up at him. 
“Go take a seat.” he hums gently turning me and scooting me in the direction of the table. I take a seat and watch as he brings in plates and silverware. I offer him thanks every time he sets something in front of me and he hums in response. Once everything is placed he takes a seat across from me and looks at me expectantly. 
“Tell me how it tastes.” he nods. 
“It looks exquisite.” I say softly before cutting into the food. The second the flavors spread across my tongue I sigh and take another bite. “Aemond,” I moan. “This is amazing.” I look up to him and see his red cheeks. 
“Thank you.” his blush deepens and I smile biting my lip. “What’s so funny?” he raises an eyebrow. 
“You look so cute when you blush.” my voice soft as the bold words fall from my mouth. 
“Cute?” he raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone’s called me cute before.” he shakes his head before beginning to eat. 
“I could call you a lot of things.” I scold my tongue for speaking. 
“Is that so?” he sets down his fork and looks to me with an amused expression. 
“Yeah, but cute is enough for today.” I sip on my tea watching him try to hide his smile. 
“What did you think of my last book?” he watches me think. I start to talk about it in between bites and he makes points I didn’t even think about. We continue to talk as we bring our plates to the kitchen and he starts to clean them immediately. Much to his distress I help him with the dishes. “You don’t have to.” 
“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” I hum drying off another dish. Once they’re done he’s leading me deeper into his house and my heart starts to beat faster. My breath catches as he walks us into his library. “This is a dream.” I look around at all of the shelves. 
“You own a bookstore.” he chuckles from behind me. 
“Yeah but these are all yours.” I walk to the closest shelf and look at some of the titles. As I continue about the room I can feel him following me and I stop on an empty shelf that has my three books on it. “I feel like my recommendations are out of place here.” I turn to him and my face almost smashes into his chest. I crane my head up to look at him. 
“No, they belong here.” he hums reaching out to brush some of my hair back. I lean into his hand before turning back around and grabbing the last book he read. 
“What did you think about this one?” I turn looking back up at him. 
“Come.” he leads me to the couch and grabs the book from my hands looking over it. “This was more of a romance. I don’t even know if we could call it that.” he chuckles. 
“What would you call it then?” I pout. 
“Erotica.” I roll my eyes at him. “What was the main plot then?” he bites his lip to hide his smile looking down at me. 
“It was like a fated love story.” my voice soft as I feel my cheeks heat. 
“An excuse for them to fuck for half of the book.” his tone playful. 
“So you didn’t like the book?” I nibble my lip. 
“I did. It was just different from what I normally read.” he hums handing me the book. 
“You don’t want to keep it? Will it sully your shelves?” my eyes alight as I look up at him. 
“I think it’d be more of a bedside table book.” his voice low. 
“Did you read this before bed?” I raise my eyebrow at him. 
“I couldn’t read it at work.” his tongue snakes across his lower lip. 
“I did.” my voice barely audible. 
“That’s because your cheeks will just get red. It’d be a little more obvious for me.” his eye darkens and I groan internally. 
“Here I was thinking that was tame.” I keep my voice soft and he laughs. 
“Tame?” he raises an eyebrow. “Now you have to give me the dirtiest book you have.” he smirks at me. 
“I can bring it to the shop tomorrow.” my tone alluring. “But I want your dirtiest book.” I look around the room positive he has to have at least one. 
“In the books I read it’s more like love making.” he smiles as my cheeks heat and I decide I won’t be the only one tormented. 
“You don’t like to fuck?” I look up at him through my lashes and his nostrils flare. 
“I like a lot of things.” he looks me over and I squirm under his gaze. “Let’s go find your next fantasy.” he teases rising from the couch. 
“Aem,” I whine before dragging myself off the couch. 
“Hm?” he hums as I trail behind him. He stops at a couple books before shaking his head and keeps us moving. He stops at a shelf and pulls a book down and nods. He turns to me with a smirk and hands it to me. “There’s a plot and romance.” he places the book in my hands. “And the fucking that you like.” I gasp at his words and he tosses his head back and laughs. 
“Shall I tell you if it becomes my new nightly fantasy?” it’s his turn for his breath to catch. 
“I’ll do the same for you with the book you give me tomorrow.” he hums. 
“The book I give you will be strictly for bed time. I couldn’t even read it at work.” I bite my lip and his eye catches the movement. 
“Is that so?” he purrs. 
“That book gave me my favorite nightly fantasy since you’re so interested in it.” I notice how close our bodies have gotten and I step back an inch. 
“Now I have to read it.” he chuckles lowly. We tease each other for a couple more minutes before he begins to drive me back to my shop. He parks next to my car and we linger in his car, neither one of us ready to leave. 
“Can I have your number?” his words soft and I turn to him pulling my phone out. 
“Of course.” I hand him my phone and he hands me his. We exchange numbers and continue to talk and stare at each other for a couple minutes before we part ways for the night. 
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Aem: Is it a good time for me to come and get the book?
Y/n: Of course. 😌
Aem: I’ll see you soon. 
Aem: This book is crazy, Y/n. 
Y/n: Why? 🫣 
Aem: You know why.
Aem: Do you want tea? 
Y/n: I’m at work. 
Aem: Yeah, I’ll bring it to you. 
Y/n: I would love that. 🥰
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“You are so so sweet.” I coo grabbing the cup from Aemonds hands. 
“How are you liking the book I recommended.” he nods to it on the counter. 
“I actually adore it.” I nod my head with a smile. “Did you see the author is coming out with a second?” I look up to him. 
“We can read it together.” he smiles sipping on his tea. 
“So what made you want to stop by?” I hum. 
“To see you in a different light after almost finishing the book you gave me.” he chuckles shaking his head. “I can’t even tell what your fantasy is, there’s so much in every chapter.” his eye slowly looks me over as my cheeks heat. 
“We can try it all.” I look up at him through my lashes and he dips down with a dark eye. Right when he opens his mouth to speak the bell on the door rings. “Hi, welcome in.” I lean back and poke my head to the side to greet the customer who trails down the first aisle.
“What did you mean?” his voice low. 
“Hm?” I smile up at him. 
“What did you mean, Y/n?” I pull his book back in front of me. 
“About us trying it?” I tilt my head with a smirk. 
“You said all.” he corrects. 
“It might take us a while.” my body heats at the thought as I lean closer to him. 
“I planned to take my time with you.” a whimper falls from my mouth at his words. “Would you like that?” he caresses my cheek. 
“Please.” I look up at him leaning into his hand. 
“When will you be done with your book?” I don’t even process his words as he trails his fingers down my jaw. He tilts my chin up and looks at me waiting. 
“Aem,” his name falls from my lips breathlessly. I look at his mouth and he chuckles. 
“I asked you a question.” he hums tilting my chin further up so I have to look at his eye. 
“Tonight.” my tongue slides across my bottom lip. 
“Dinner at mine tomorrow?” he tilts his head. 
“I would like that.” I sigh as he removes his hand. 
“Text me when you finish the book and we’ll make plans from there.” he hums and slips out of my shop. 
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Y/n: I finished. 
Y/n: I’m excited for the second one. 
Aem: I’m glad you liked it. 
Y/n: Did you finish mine yet?
Aem: Just under 100 pages. 
Y/n: Do you like it?
Aem: It’s been.. interesting. 
Y/n: Interesting because you like it so much? 🤭
Aem: I didn’t say that. 
Y/n: It seemed like it earlier. When you just had to come see me. 
Aem: I wasn’t the one whimpering on the counter. 
Y/n: Let’s make it your kitchen counter next. 
Aem: I’ll see you tomorrow. 
Y/n: I’m sure I’ll be the star in your dreams tonight. 
Aem: What makes you think you haven’t been?
Y/n: Have I been? 👀 
Aem: I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven again. 
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I’m finishing cleaning up the aisles when the bell to my shop rings. I turn and see Aemond slip in and I continue to clean quicker than before. I dump my cleaning supplies behind the counter and go to his side. 
“Someone’s eager.” he chuckles escorting me out the front door. 
“Your cooking is to die for.” I smile as he opens the car door for me. 
“I can cook for you more often.” he slips into the drivers seat and has us on our way to his house. 
“I would like that.” I smooth my dress looking out the window. He ushers us into his home and pulls out the chair for me at his counter and begins to cook. I watch his back muscles move as I nibble my lip. He turns and offers me a taste on the spoon and I prop myself up and moan when the flavors hit my mouth. 
“Do you like it?” he smiles watching me lean over the counter. 
“I do.” I gasp as his hands come around my waist and pull me across the counter. My legs come under me and I sit on the edge of the counter in front of him. “Aemond.” my voice like a plea as he spreads my legs to stand between them. 
“You asked to whimper on my counter.” he places his hands on either side of my thighs.
“But the food.” I look up to him with red cheeks. 
“Has to cook and I’d like a taste.” my breath catches as his fingers dance up my legs. “Can I?” he searches my eyes. 
“Please.” I nod my head and spread my legs wider for him. He smirks before capturing my lips and I bring my hands to him to pull him closer. His fingers push my dress up and I whine into his mouth as they brush against my panties. He kisses down my jaw before helping me lay back. He pulls my waist to the edge and I giggle until his lips are pressing against my thighs. He slides my panties down my legs and his tongue licks up my slit. 
“Aem,” my voice wrecked. His hands grip onto my hips before his tongue lashes against me. My breathing comes out in pants as he swirls around my bud and I push myself into his face. He chuckles and my legs shake at the feeling but he holds them open. His tongue is relentless and I squeak as I feel his fingers near my core. 
“Is this okay?” he lifts up and looks at me with a dark eye. 
“Yes, Aemond, please,” I whine pushing his head back down. He laps against my bud as he presses two long fingers into me. “Fuck,” I whine clenching around his fingers as he starts a quick pace. I arch off the counter as my fingers tangle in his hair. My hips grind into him and my pleasure washes through me as I pulse around his fingers. He continues to work me through and I become a whimpering mess on his counter until he’s pulling back. 
“Let me know if you have any other requests.” he hums kissing me softly before turning back to the stove. I’m still spread across his counter trying to catch my breath as he finishes dinner. He turns back to me and chuckles before turning off the stove and moving the pan to another burner. He pulls my dress down and helps me off the counter. “Go sit in the dining room.” he kisses the side of my head and I walk into the other room on wobbly legs. 
“Thank you.” my voice soft as he places a plate in front of me. 
“Did you want me to feed you too?” he smirks at my widening eyes. 
“I think I can manage.” I roll my eyes at him as he continues to chuckle. 
“Tell me what you think?” he nods to my plate and I take my first bites. 
“Gods Aemond,” I sigh as the flavors travel across my tongue. “This is divine.” I hum taking another bite. 
“I’m glad it’s to your liking.” he smiles at me across from the table. We eat in silence and share heated glances throughout. Once our plates are emptied we bring them to the kitchen and wash them together. 
“To your library?” I tilt my head looking up to him. 
“Unless you want to get back on the counter and give me dessert.” I tug his hand down the hall not bothering to respond to him. He chuckles going in the lead and bringing us to the couch in the center of the room. “Let’s hear about how you liked your book first.” he turns to me. 
“I think it was perfectly balanced and if that’s your dirtiest book then I must have corrupted you.” I smirk blinking at him. I got into what I liked best while he chuckles and nods his head listening before I turn all of my attention to him. “Well what did you think about my book?” 
“I think we can just call that porn.” he raises an eyebrow to me. 
“There was some plot..” I trail off with a hint of a smile. 
“What was it? How many times she could come?” he laughs. “It was written well. I’ll give the author that but Gods..” he shakes his head. 
“There was some of the love making you like though.” I pout. 
“That’s generous.” he bursts out in a loud laugh. 
“Where is it? I’ll find it in the book.” I huff getting up and walking to his shelf to retrieve it.
“On my bedside table.” he smirks. 
“I figured you would read in here.” I look around. “Sprawled out on your couch, book in one hand, the other down your pants..” he rises at my words and stalks over to me. 
“Is that how you read it?” his voice low as he towers over me. 
“No, I would wait until I was done reading for the night and swap it out with something else in my bedside table that could help me.” I bite my lip. 
“How many times did you come?” he licks his lips. 
“Until I was shaking.” my voice barely audible and he groans. His hands go to my waist and pull me closer. “We still have to talk about what you think.” I tilt my head further up. 
“I thought about us as the main characters.” a soft whine leaves my lips at his words. “All I thought about was fucking you for the past couple of days. Nonstop.” his words low. 
“Yet you still haven’t.” I tease him and he lifts me up and carries me out of the library. He pushes open a door and tosses me into the middle of his bed. My dress rises up and his eye catches my dripping core. 
“I decided I will have dessert.” he hums before kneeling on the ground and pulling me against his face. 
“Aemond,” my voice cracks as he starts to feverishly lick at my bud. He pushes my dress further up as his arms wrap around my hips. I gasp as his tongue travels down to my entrance. My hips try to buck against him but his hold is firm. His nose continuously brushes against my bud while his tongue explores me. My toes curl as quick whimpers fall from my mouth as he coaxes pleasure from me. I cry out as my high washes through me as he holds my hips in place. I try to move out of his grasp but his fingers dig into my flesh. 
“Stop squirming. I’m not done.” he lifts his head up to look at me with a dark eye before diving back down. 
“Aem, right there,” his tongue doesn’t move from its spot but he moves it faster. He pushes his fingers into my core and my moans turn high pitched. “Fuck, I’m gunna-“ my hand flies to his hair as my coil snaps and my legs tremble in his hands. His fingers continue to slam into me and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I feel his mouth leave but his fingers curl inside of me and I clench around them. 
“How’s it feel?” his voice taunting as he speeds up his movements. 
“So good,” my voice slurred with pleasure as my hips slightly rock into his fingers. The second his tongue touches my bud again I burst across his face. “Aem, Aemond,” my voice breaking with every chant of his name. He removes himself from me and I lay there catching my breath. I crack open my eyes as he pulls my dress off of me completely exposing my body. 
“Beautiful.” he slips his tongue around my hardened nipples and I sigh as he peppers my chest with attention. “Scoot up the bed.” he nods his head toward the pillows as he stands to undress. I watch him with low lids once I’m propped against his pillows. I lick my lips as he crawls into bed over me. “I’m going to show you what I read.” I nod my head before reaching up to kiss him. 
He slows the kiss down and slowly grinds against me. I writhe beneath him as I gasp for breath as he continues to explore my mouth. His tongue caresses against mine as he steadily rocks his length through my wetness. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in and I let out soft sighs. He rocks into me while keeping our mouths mashed together. With every hard thrust he’s brushing against my bud and I cling onto his back. 
“Aem,” his name spills from my mouth into the space between us as he slowly pushes into me. Our bodies have no end or beginning as he pushes into me. I feel every inch of him and the second his thumb rubs slow circles around my bud I’m coming undone around him. 
“Did you like that?” he hums stilling inside of me waiting for me to come down. 
“I did.” my words breathy. I whine as he pulls out. He quickly flips me over and my head presses into his pillows. His fingers dig into my hips as he lifts them into the air and slams into me. “Fuck,” I moan into the pillow as he starts pounding into me. His hand travels up my spine before tangling in my hair and pulling my face up. 
“Let me hear how much you like being fucked like this.” he grunts. His pace is relentless and I begin to push my hips back to meet his. He groans as his hips snap into mine. He pulls me up against his chest and hammers up into me. His hand leaves my hair to wrap around my throat. I clench around him and he chuckles before applying light pressure. “Yeah you like that?” he growls in my ear as his pace becomes brutal. 
“Yes,” I whine as my hands cling onto his arms. My pleasure unexpectedly slams through me and I push back into him as he grunts digging his fingers into my hip as he keeps his pace. 
“Such a good girl taking everything I give you.” he pushes me back down onto the bed. His rhythm falters and I arch my back more to help him find his pleasure. His arm snakes around to my bud and my vision blurs as my pleasure tears through me again. I feel him fill me with his warmth and slowly pull out. I lay on his bed with my ass still in the air before he chuckles and pulls me down onto his chest. 
“We have a lot more of that book to get through.” he chuckles holding me against him. 
“I’ll find us more. I don’t want this to ever stop.” I cuddle into his chest more as he brushes my hair back. 
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masterlist 🔌 
there will like 99.99% be a part 2 🙂
taglist ✍️
@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme
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clawsdevour · 2 days
Text
hq charas telling u hbd hcs
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wc: 0.4k content warning: not proofread, all fluff headcanons!!
note: dedicated to my mutual, happy late birthday @laid-backcamp <3
❛ 。˳ ❀˚
-the type to chalantly spoil you rotten. They're walking around trying to seek you with presents occupying their field of vision. The moment they see you, they're running at you full force with gifts overbearing their hands while yelling out happy birthday.
"BABEE!!! HAPPPPPY BIRTHDAY!!!"
charas: hinata shoyo, bokuto kotaro, nishinoya yu, oikawa tooru
-the type to start singing happy birthday to you loudly whenever they see you in an attempt to playfully taunt you while letting other people know it's your birthday because they want you to be treated like royalty on your special day. Of course at some point you just gotta walk up to them and slap your hand over their mouth.
"Hey hey, look it's the birthday girl!!! Happy birth-!"
charas: kuroo tetsuro, osamu miya, atsumu miya, lev haiba
-the type to make you small but memorable handmade items for your birthday. You're constantly at the back of their head, so what else would be perfect but a gift from the heart? They definitely worked on their little project days or maybe even weeks before your special day!
"Happy birthday love! Here's this gift I made you. It might not look like much but remember that I made you it out of love!!"
charas: daichi sawamura, akaashi keiji, kita shinsuke, tadashi yamaguchi
-the type to write you a little letter and give you money or lucky charm/keychain stashed in the envelope because they aren't sure what you'd like. Trust me, they do love you but they just don't know what to get you as a gift! They would believe that it'd be better off if they handed you money to get whatever you'd like or a little lucky charm/keychain.
"Happy birthday..! I didn't know exactly what to get you but I hope this could somehow make up for it."
charas: tsukishima kei, sakusa kiyoomi, kenma kozume, ushijima wakatoshi, kageyama tobio
-the type to make you a basket with a letter, snacks, a plushie, and things you've really wanted. In the letter, they written about why they got you a certain item, could just be because you talked about wanting it or if the item reminded them of you. They put so much thought into your birthday that they would forget about their own priorities.
"Happy birthday dear! This is for you, it's filled to the brim with your favorite sweet treats, and the stuffed animal you've had your eye on!"
charas: iwaizumi hajime, yaku morisuke, sugawara koshi
masterlist here
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Text
Cupid doesn’t gamble
Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?
Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.
Word Count: 6,620
A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.
[II] [III]
“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey
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Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.
But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.
Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.
Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.
He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.
And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.
You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.
"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.
“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.
A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.
He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.
"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.
“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.
Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.
"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.
He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.
"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.
You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.
The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.
Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.
"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.
Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.
Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.
He loved it.
"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."
He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.
You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?
Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”
Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.
He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."
Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*
He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.
“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”
He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.
He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."
You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.
Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.
"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?
You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.
He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.
“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.
"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.
In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.
You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.
As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.
"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."
“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.
“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.
He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.
You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”
Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.
He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.
"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.
“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”
Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.
"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.
“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.
It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.
He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.
“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.
He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.
He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.
"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."
The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.
He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.
The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.
"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.
Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.
Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.
“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.
As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?
"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.
Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.
But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.
“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”
He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.
"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.
"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.
Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”
“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.
“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.
Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.
"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.
As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”
Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”
Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.
"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"
He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”
Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”
Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.
With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.
“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.
"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.
As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.
Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.
“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.
“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.
"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.
"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.
“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”
“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.
You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.
Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.
As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.
You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.
“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.
As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.
You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.
“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?
Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.
"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.
Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.
He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.
Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.
"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.
He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.
“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”
But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.
Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.
His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.
"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."
Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.
“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.
He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"
He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”
“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.
Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."
He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.
As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.
"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.
The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.
A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.
He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.
No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.
You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.
He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.
You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.
“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.
Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.
He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."
Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.
But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.
“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.
His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.
But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.
You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.
His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.
But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.
You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.
Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.
He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.
You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”
“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.
He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.
"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."
Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.
“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”
The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.
Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.
But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”
You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?
You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“
He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.
“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”
“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”
“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”
He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”
You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.
When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.
“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.
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almostfoxglove · 21 hours
Text
THE PRETTIEST
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written for @quinnnfabrgay-writes & @hauntedhowlett-writes' #MONSTERSMASH2024 challenge
RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader CREATURE: GHOST + MAX PHILLIPS WORD COUNT: 4.3k CW: Smut (piv), voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism (he's invisible and reader doesn't know he's watching), Max is a bit of a creep okay he's doing his best here, protective!max, jealous!max, enough manager speak that I got tech startup flashbacks.
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SUMMARY: After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in.
read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist
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Of all the hell holes where one might waste eternity, Max is pretty sure his vacant duplex is the worst of them. Six rooms, two floors spined by a spiral staircase—all boring and hollow and dusty. Disgusting. How difficult would it have been to let him haunt the office? He could’ve leered over all those pathetic little office drones, driven them crazy forever. Fucked with their desk chairs, their hard drives, mixed up all their coffee mugs. Not that Max has mastered the art of affecting the material world yet, but he will.
Petty? Sure. But you can’t blame a guy for feeling a little owed after all management’s little reorganization. His relocation to the goddamn fucking afterlife—and to this prison of an apartment where there’s no one to subjugate or fuck, no less. 
What a waste of his potential. His talents.
Who knows how long he spends stuck alone in this place until someone shows up, but eventually people do. The real estate agent—Doreen and her little beehive hairdo, her eyebrows always penciled on too thin—and, over what Max estimates to be about three weeks, a parade of nobodies she tours around, preaching godless, truthless sermons of the duplex’s good bones and the good life they could have in these dreary fucking rooms. He’d be proud of her sales pitch if he weren’t so goddamn pissed.
He tries, he really does. Yells often, I’m right here, Dor-een, honey, right fucking here! And waves his arms in front of her face, but he can scream as loud as he likes; nobody hears a thing. 
For the first time in his many lives, people walk straight through him. 
There might be, possibly, some karma in that. 
Max doesn’t care for it.
It’s misery until the day Doreen brings him you.
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Come on, Max whines, slouching lazily on your couch. Curled up with your bedsheets cloaked over your head, you rot on the cushions beside him, four hours deep in a Desperate Housewives marathon, oblivious to his company: your usual Sunday routine.
As usual you don’t hear him, don’t see him either. Sitting right beside you, making no dents in the pillows, his glossy dress shoes kicked up on the coffee table. Still he finds himself complaining, one hand gesticulating wildly at the screen, You’re killing me, baby. It’s obviously the fucking neighbor! Guy’s got a box of death under his pool!
Meanwhile you just sit there, enthralled as Eva Longoria struts about in her tiny skirts and tiny shoes. Max tells himself the only reason he stays in the room when you watch this garbage is for her and all the other pretty housewives or to leer at what bits of you peek out from your duvet each time you reach for your tea on the coffee table—a wrist, your elbow, and when you knock over the popcorn bowl and slip the sheets from your head, the lovely hollow of your perfect neck. Truth is, if you were to quiz him, he’d be able to cite the plot of the whole season beat for beat.
Not that he’s enjoying this, this—this garbage. Never.
No fucking way. He’s just perceptive. Has an excellent memory.
Plus this is the one way he gets to be close to you. Such a pretty little thing, taunting him without ever knowing it. That sweet mouth, those clever eyes. Showering with the bathroom door sometimes cracked like you know he’s here and dying to peek through the veil of your jasmine-laced steam. Chewing the ends of your pencils while you sketch out some masterpiece on looseleaf that you never get around to painting.
Sitting on your couch, at your dining table, at the foot of your bed while you brush out your hair after a long day—it’s the closest Max gets to feeling like being stuck here might not be hell, just purgatory: always a breath away from the thing he’d like to touch, but at least he’s not simmering in battery acid or being flogged. He’s had his share of blood-bag roommates—brief fascinations that drained so quickly—but you? You’ve lived in Max’s apartment for three months and he’s no less drunk on you than he was the day Doreen toured you around. Can’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it’s the longing, the forest fire that sears through his ice-box chest every time your eyes skim his face by accident, never lingering. 
What can he say? Max is a man, after all. Under all the blood and monster.
And you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever seen.
When the show cuts to commercial you mute the TV, immune to the serpent-tongued promises of liars like him. Lured by nothing, by nobody. Already slinking from your bedsheet cave, all bare legs and cute little ankles striding out of the room, leaving him with the ghost of you, the smell of your perfume kissed into the duvet.
What he wouldn’t give for the chance to sell himself to you. He’d charm you all the way to your perfect knees.
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In a way, you and Max are the perfect couple. You’re free to do as you wish, and he’s free to watch you every second that you spend at home, miserable the moment you leave for work in those tight fucking pencil skirts. No better than a dog, he spends his vagrant hours of isolation alternating between puppy-eyed pouting and anxious pacing, tortured until your evening return. 
How did he ever live here alone? Alive or otherwise. He can’t remember now. There are too many rooms, too few sounds, too few breaths, too few footsteps. He misses you. Your bedhead and pajamas, your blanket nest in front of the TV, the cute way you answer the phone. 
Today, you don’t come home till eight fifteen—and Max has spent thirteen hours losing what’s left of his mind.
Baby, he sighs, rushing for the front room at the first turn of the lock, a grin stretched to dimples in his cheeks. Seems even if you can’t hear him, Max can’t help talking to you, perhaps childlike in his belief that someday you will. Where the hell have you—
His sentence hacks itself in half, drops to silence, because you’re blushing when you come in, eyes shyly downcast, one hand shaking the rain loose from your hair, tendrils clinging to your cheeks. “Here,” you say, and for a beat Max thinks you’re speaking to him. His mouth drops, stunned. 
Is this it? Can you finally see him?
“Come in, come in,” you say.
Then a man steps in behind you, shuts the door behind his hulking form, and if there were any blood to speak of in his veins, Max is certain it’d boil at the sight of him. Tall and empty-headed, dopey as a dog, stomping his blocky, muddy shoes all over your hallway. Yours and Max’s. Getting goddamn filth on your hall carpet. Given just a few material cells, Max’d have this guy dead before he makes it to the living room, wouldn’t even bother drinking him. This breed of dumbass isn’t worth the mess.
But he’s useless. Less than a gnat. Sentenced to watch you trail this motherfucker who wouldn’t know Tom Ford from his Brioni into your kitchen, jackets shedding and small talk traded—boring, boring, boring, but you laugh when the guy makes a shitty joke about the weather. 
This guy, this nobody, gets to make you laugh while Max never even gets a chance to try.
On second thought, maybe this is hell after all.
“S’a nice place,” the dumbass says, laying his knockoff blazer over the back of a barstool. Cheap stitching. Terrible, too-thin lapels.
You look about the room as if standing in it for the first time and for a moment your eyes pass right over Max, whose long-dead heart winces. Yelps. If you could see him, there’s no way you’d entertain this guy. This nameless little worker bee. Max would make you laugh properly, how you laugh when something funny happens on TV or when you get a letter in the mail from your brother. Sudden and twinkling, often ending in a snort. Adorable.
Shrugging, you turn into your fridge and say, “Yeah, I like it,” and exhume two slim cans of vodka seltzer to set on the kitchen island.
Thank you, Max says, his arms crossed over his chest.
The dumbass’ brows flicker up as he regards your offering. Idiot. What was he expecting from a girl like you, a PBR? These are delicious. Elegant. Calorie wise. Max understands. Max would drink that with a smile and a thank you. 
Or maybe he’d skip right to drinking you.
Sensing his hesitation, you crack your can and take a sip. “They’re not as bad as they look,” you say, a nervous chuckle bittering your lips as you watch your date open his can and bring it to his nose to sniff. “Sorry. I don’t have anything else.”
You can do so much better, baby, Max sighs. You’ve got better right here.
Against his will, the hours pass. The evening goes on. You and the dumbass only drink half a can each—him with a half-snarled lip and you with a self-conscious twinge—but somehow by nightfall he’s got you scooching your barstool closer to him, allowing his slimy hand to rest on your thigh. 
Max bristles. Seethes. Don’t do it, he pleads to you, unheard. He’s not gonna fuck you right, just look at him. Send this idiot home and watch TV with me. Do anything but this guy, baby, anything but him.
You bend in slow motion and it’s agonizing, the tilt of your head as you press your lips to his. The wet slurp of his mouth taking the second you meet. A terrible kiss, though you’re polite enough not to flinch. Breaking from the prod of his pink-slug tongue to offer your neck, his mouth immediately moving, and fuck baby, it’s like you’re trying to kill him all over again. Drive a stake straight through Max’s blackened heart by giving up what he longs to claim.
In an instant, anger births itself from the hollow of his chest. His hand shoots out in useless violence, swinging as if to strike a seltzer can from the countertop and knowing it won’t do a lick of good as ire devours him, igneous and fervid, searing hot as life in his icy hands.
The can jumps from the counter and clunks to the floor, its contents gluggluglug-ing across the tiles.
“The fuck?” Max hears the dumbass gasp as he leaps from his barstool, eyes bugged wide and child-like and weak. You freeze, lips pink and swollen, staring down at the emptying can. 
It’s a shame neither of you can see the way Max smiles. 
Now that’s what I’m talking about, he crows. Finally a little substance around here! 
This is good. No, it’s better than good. This is the rush after a promotion, after the deal that closes out the quarter over target. The look on every sad sack’s face knowing they lost and he won.
This is the bite that finally breaks skin.
Maddening, burgeoning, addictive.
He’s real again. A goddamn Beetlejuice for you, baby. He’s gonna scare this fucknut out of here and have you to himself. First was the can, next is you, and he’s gonna kiss you so much better than that. In celebration, Max kicks one foot to send the can soaring across the kitchen floor and watches his shoe pass right through it, aluminum undisturbed on the floor. No, he mutters, kicking again. No, fucking—come on, you worthless piece of shit—
Your nervous laugh is too far away to comfort him. Distant too is your voice saying, “My room’s this way,” and the shuffling of your footsteps as Max loses his shit on the seltzer can that now refuses to budge no matter the swell of his outrage. By the time he snaps from his incensed trance, your barstools are empty. He blinks, breathless with muscle memory—his lungs wheezing because they remember wheezing, not out of need.
Baby? he calls out.
But you reply. A murmur too lusty to be a giggle—Max’s body coils up at the sound, taut and needy, and carries him toward the sound. He forgets, briefly, who you’re with. Believes he’ll find you in your bedroom alone beneath the covers, hands fluttering as you bring yourself to the edge of release. How beautiful you’d be, gasping in pleasure. He might close his eyes and pretend it’s him drawing out your every breathy, needy sound.
You’ve left the bedroom door cracked, and though in death he’s no longer bound by silly things like permission, Max has since you moved in found himself in the habit of respecting closed doors. Walls are chalk outlines over which he’s free to step, but he doesn’t, not if you’ve closed the gate. He’s not a monster. Or not a total monster—whatever, semantics. Point is that he only spies on your showers if you’ve cracked the door. Indulges in the soft moments of you sleeping only when you’ve left him that sliver of room.
Like the room you’ve left him now: slender and tempting, this stripe of your bedroom wall. A Degas print in a copper frame, the wooden post at the foot of your bed. 
Your sweet voice cooing here, like this, and the creak of your mattress.
Something black and silty sinks in Max’s stomach when he steps inside. Not the rage from moments ago. Something darker, heavier. Jealousy. Half-sheeted by your duvet, the dumbass you’ve brought home rocks above you, his shirt gone, his beefcake arm blocking the view of your chest, and though you’re making all the right sounds it’s obvious this isn’t any good.
He’s not fucking you right.
Your hands clawing at his back are too stiff. Your yeses a beat too slow. As the idiot pants—thrusts choppy and graceless—Max watches your hand tap his shoulder blade as you breathe, “Flip over.”
“What?” bumbles the guy, his hips stalling. “Oh shit—fuck yeah. Okay.”
Another grunt, then he rolls off and Max gets a glimpse of you—your red bra lacy and see through, your nipples so pretty underneath. It just isn’t right, the awkwardness of this colossal douchebag as he settles on his back and you ruck back the covers to straddle him, not at all breathless, hardly even flushed, your hair all messy at the back from disappointing friction.
“Shit,” the guy gasps as you sink down on him, clamping those boorish hands onto your waist.
You don’t even whine, not even as you start to rock, though his breathing gallops beneath you. Guy looks two seconds from nutting while you look years away from anything even loosely resembling an orgasm—your rhythm changing often as you try and fail to find a pace that suits you. “Christ—oh my god, ” the guy groans.
Max sucks his front teeth, tongue soiled with venom.
“Touch me,” you sigh, bouncing now. The curtain of your hair shivering down your back. 
This guy fucks like he’s never touched a woman before. At your request his knuckles only pale, fingers pinching you tighter. That’s not what she means, Max growls. Touch her fucking clit, you pin-dicked imbecile. Can’t fucking please a woman, should be fucking ashamed—
His pointless ranting is cut short by a sudden moan as the guy lifts you off him in time to come all over his stomach, chest rapid in its heaving, upper lip snarled in pleasure he doesn’t have the goddamn decency to return to you. For a long moment you hover above him, waiting, but his head just slumps back against the pillow, satisfied. 
Done.
He’s actually done. Motherfucker.
When you crawl off him to sit back against your headboard—arms crossing over your stomach self-consciously—Max sees red. Sees fire. Sees the roiling magma at the center of the earth where someone oughta make this fucker take a nice hot bath. 
He’d do this right. He’d fuck you properly, have you coming apart at the seams, go down on you until you beg for his cock and edge himself for as long as it takes to have you screaming his name. Can’t you see that? Can’t you feel him here, right now? Can’t you feel how bad he wants you? Can’t you imagine how much better he’d be? How good he’d make you feel?
Letting out an airy chuckle, the brute wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty brow and pushes himself to his feet. Redresses with a goddamn smirk on his face—not one of cruelty, but it might as well be. He thinks this is a job well done. Time to go home. 
A peck to your lips, then he’s rattling on about calling you, seeing you again, maybe Thursday? Friday? While you just sit there, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Sure,” you say, dazed and not quite thinking. “I’ll call you.”
Yeah, she’s not calling you, Max snarls, following the guy out of the room. Watching as the jackass plucks his jacket from the back of your barstool, steps over the mess of seltzer without a thought to clean it up for you, and waltzes right out the door. Not a care in the goddamn world. 
Though he hears you get up shortly after to use the bathroom, you don’t emerge from your bedroom and Max doesn’t disturb you. He spends that time in the kitchen, grabbing and grabbing and grabbing at the dish towel hung over the handle on the oven door, trying to pull it off. 
For at least an hour, his hand glides through the towel as if it’s water, not a flutter or sway in the fabric. Not even a brush, a compromise. It just hangs there, indignant. Mocking him. Deaddeaddeaddeaddead. Maybe it’s the Senior Sales Manager in him, the apex predator at the top of the food chain—but Max can do this all night. He’s not backing down, not letting a stupid fucking towel get the better of him. That lazy curtain of terrycloth will disintegrate before he waves the white flag. 
Beyond the picture frame windows that stare out into the barren, colorless street, the sun has shied to navy blue, letting out the round-mouthed moon, and you have not emerged from your bedroom for hours. He wants to check on you, ask if you’re okay. Frankly, baby, he’s getting a little worried. On the next sweep of his hand, the towel gives up the ghost; Max pulls it from the oven handle, marveling at the toothy fabric. He’s holding it, really holding it, all on his own. 
Thank fuck he’s not haunting the office. If any of those bull-brained fucks saw him now, as he kneels on your kitchen floor, he’d have to die all over again. Somehow. The technicals aren’t important—what’s important is that no one’s here to see him on his fucking knees, mopping up the spilled drink. Something like joy burbles in his chest when he reaches for the can and seizes it, placing it safely on your counter. The floor dry and shining again, clean. 
Max folds the towel carefully and returns it to the rack. 
As if on cue, the bedroom door croaks down the hall and you emerge. A huge t-shirt slumps from your frame; you’ve tied your hair up, put your glasses back on. Dressed down for the last dregs of night, rubbing the back of your hand in one eye, tired. 
You look so, so tired.
I’d rub your shoulders, baby, Max sighs quietly and though you won’t hear him, it still—after three whole months—doesn’t feel any less right to hope.
He steps out of your way as you round the corner into the kitchen with a yawn, hands clasped behind his back, cheek dimpled and eyes alight. Just like he wanted, just like he hoped, your eyes fall immediately to the floor where the can is missing, the spill wiped. Lashes flickering—the towel dark at the hem on its handle, the empty can on the counter. Your brows pinch low over your nose, curious. 
Pretty good for a dead guy, Max grins.
How sweet, that lifting flinch at your mouth’s sharp, pink corner. The soft hm you make in reply. It’s not much, but this strange, fluttery feeling in the dark cavity one might wrongly call his heart? It doesn’t feel half bad. 
Not bad at all.
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He’s getting better at it. Not great, but the projections look good. Give him a little time, he’ll have this whole place dancing. Put on a big show, announce himself properly. 
In the meantime he practices when you’re not looking. Small stuff—he opens cupboards. Shuts them. Hits start on the dryer when you forget to press it yourself. Some days he wastes reaching for things and coming up empty, but now again his luck sparkles. Things move. Bend to his will. Isn’t long until he can hold it for a while—gathering the matter to run the vacuum around, or reorganize your pantry. A tidy house makes a tidy mind, baby. No good living in a dump. You’re so busy, always cracking around like a ping pong ball, and hell, it’s not like Max can leave this place, get a little air in his idle lungs.
He likes being useful to you. Likes that tiny smirk on your lips when you find something fixed or organized for you, even though you likely chalk it up to having forgotten that you did it yourself. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need the credit. Isn’t that strange? How often he smiles at you? How perfect he finds the taste of your name.
Winter has arrived like a secret—whispered about for weeks and then suddenly let loose on the world. You come home from work in the evenings with icing sugar hair. Usually unbothered, far as Max can tell, but today you stagger in flushed from the cold and dark in the eyes.
Shit, baby, Max says when he sees you. Bad day?
Sniffling, you drop your coat right there in the hall, let it puddle over your shoes, and stalk off on a mission, barreling into the kitchen. The fridge door rips open, casting blue-white light over your face, and you must feel a hell of a lot worse than you feel because you don’t even blink at the contents inside. All the shelves wiped clean, the bottles arranged with the labels facing out, those wilted, bad greens deposited in the compost. You just reach in for the half-drunk bottle of Riesling that to Max smelled mostly like juice and swipe off the lid.
You chug on your way to the couch, leaving the fridge door open behind you.
Max closes it when you’ve gone, the TV already switched on in the living room, the lilting strings of the Desperate Housewives theme song swimming through the air. When he turns the corner he finds you wrapped in the throw blanket he now knows the texture of—supple and velvet, weighted and warm—with the wine bottle nestled in your lap. 
A silver tear hangs on your cheek. 
Really bad day, whatever it was. 
He wants to ask. Wants to pull you into his arms and pet back your hair. Wants to lick that sadness from your skin. 
Maybe this isn’t the show he’s imagined. Not much of a reveal—but you look so small right now, alone on your couch. Wine splashing in its bottle as you bring it to your lips, not bothering to wipe that tear away. If Max had a heart that beat, it’d stutter as he watches you. Helpless isn’t something he cares to feel.
No time like the present. Max sighs, scrubs a hand down his face as he ticks his jaw to one side, and nods. Alright, baby, he relents. Hang on.
On his way to the bathroom he cracks all the knuckles on his left hand, rolls his neck, swings his shoulders. Stretches himself long and limber like he’s about to run—but this is it. Curtain’s coming up. Time to find out if one glimpse of him sends you sprinting for the hills. Though he casts no reflection, Max stands before the mirror hanging over the sink and straightens his tie, corrects his lapels. Old habits, but it never hurts to look good.
Hand waggling, then, over the tissue box on the counter. He slaps himself hard, sending a delicious ripple of pain across his cheeks. Come on, he begs. Don’t play hard to get.
The box lifts.
Here he comes: tissue box in hand, stalking tall and proud down your hallway with his chin up, shoulders back. Gets the momentum rolling, doesn’t hesitate, just waltzes in.
Your head snaps in his direction, eyes round and brows rising. To you it must look like the tissues float through the air to your side. Max steps back with butterflies jittering in his bones. 
Don’t be scared, he pleads. It’s just me.
With your head cocked to one side you consider this, though you’ve not heard his voice. Probably for the best. Came out a little softer than he meant it to, a little needy, and that’s just not becoming of a man like him. He has a reputation to uphold, even now. 
After a long, bludgeoning pause you click your tongue, swiping one white tissue from the box to turn over in your hand. Deliberating. Then your face cracks, possessed by a slithering smirk. Your gaze flickering so close to him it’s almost as if you’ve looked him in the eye. 
Deep in his chest, Max feels a strange throb—his stirring heart—as you say out loud, 
“I knew someone was there.”
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dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals!
@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed 
@burntheedges @jolapeno @la-eterna-enamorada29 @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave
@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @tonysopranosrobe @evolnoomym @sweetpascal 
@spacelatinos4life @sweetpascal @biggetywitch @wannab-urs @helenanell
@pedgito @pastelpinkflowerlife @jessthebaker @rav3n-pascal22 @sixhours 
@noisynightmarepoetry @kyberblade @beezusvreeland @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack 
@pedrospatch @yopossum @toomanytookas @sawymredfox @galway-girlatwork
@ppascalrain @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @milla-frenchy @schnarfer
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moodymisty · 2 days
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ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔯𝔲𝔪 𝔒𝔣 𝔄 𝔙𝔦𝔠𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔵
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Author's note: I have a few requests left to do but I really wanted to kind of do this sort of thing after a few asks brought it up. And the Victrix Guard designs fucking slap so, here. Part 1 of something maybe? I don't know guess I'll see how people respond.
Summary: Marcellus of the Victrix Guard has a crisis of faith.
Relationships: Marcellus(oc)/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Very vague references to lewd things, Digging into an astartes brain figuratively
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"8th Company has requisitioned seven more landraiders, 2nd company needs another thunderhawk,"
Marcellus' ears picked up on your voice quickly this time, as you entered the massive room. Your Ultramarine branded robes are frayed at the bottom but in good shape overall- ornate and fitting of your stature. Unlike other chapters that allow their Administratum members to retain their original clothes, Ultramarines prefer they wear the deep blue that is symbolic of Macragge.
He watched with a bored interest, but as time goes on, the feeling yet again began to rise in him like water boiling in a geyser.
Why does his chest feel like this all of the sudden? He cleared his throat in the direction of the tiled floor.
No change.
He however still continued to watch you from his post as you flutter around, reading and writing papers. Commissars and Ultramarines give you orders, requests for more materials or arms. You shuffle around response times for fleets, combat data; Administraum taxes and tithes.
He watched you do it all with deftness- a grace and dedication- from his post at the entrance, silently.
He's spoken to you a handful of times; Thanking him for allowing you to enter and exit the room. A few times you've dropped things- and once he helped you pick them up, a gesture that made you smile and thank him profusely for the assistance. Your words stumbled off your tongue like they were just falling out, before your scurried away and leaving him with a feeling of, unfulfillment.
That moment is where he's traced this feeling back to. Where it all started. Ever since he crunched your parchments in his gauntlet to hand them to you, which you took with fingers so much smaller than his own and thanked him like he’d saved your very life- there was something in his gut that swirled like nausea.
First, he had tried the apothecary.
'All vitals come back normal, brother. You are in peak shape, as one would expect as a Victrix Guard. But if you are still feeling unsure, perhaps your ailment might be spiritual in nature. A visit to the chaplain would perhaps be your next option."
He had gone to the chaplain next, as suggested, walking through the nave as he approached the brother chaplain at the altar standing in contemplation.
'Brother chaplain. I might be in need of your guidance."
He turned to him, a peculiar and almost amused look on his face.
'Might? An interesting one.'
Marcellus adjusted his jaw and hesitated speaking for a moment; This feeling of unknown, of unsure nature, eats at him like a parasite.
'I feel, wrong. I have already gone to the apothecary and he said nothing is abnormal. He suggested that I, might need your guidance.'
He had listened to the chaplain's words with the utmost vehemence, prayed with him, remembered his vows as an Ultramarine- a Victrix Guard. He spent hours in that chapel the incense burning at his nose, the taste of its smoke coating his mouth- The Emperor’s glow casting over him through the stained glass mural.
He felt better afterwards. He rose from his knees and thanked his brother chaplain before returning to his duties. Perhaps a bit of righting was all he had needed. Doubt had planted its first seed in him and the chaplain was able to pluck it, righting his path back into the brightest of holy lights.
Three days later however, upon seeing you again, the feeling returned.
You nearly stumbled to your knees, a servoskull flying over your head. You quickly scurried to pick up your things and nervously laughed.
I am so sorry my lord, I seem to make a fool of myself in front of you quite a bit.'
Marcellus hummed, it coming out of his helmet with a distorted crackle.
'I suppose we cannot all be as deft and agile as those in Corvus Armor.'
You gave a soft laugh, smiling. When you stop why does he feel, disappointed?
'No I suppose not.'
You seemed like you were going to move on, but he impulsively speaks before he has a chance to catch himself.
'What is your name?'
You had hesitated, before uttering your name with a tilt of nervousness. He gave you his own, for no other reason that it fell off his lips without his control. Whatever his ailment is now coming for his ability to speak next, what in the name of The Emperor is next? His very ability to see?
Throne, what is wrong with him?
As soon as he could, he returned to the apothecary.
Once again, nothing was physically wrong with him. He'd begun to think maybe the apothecary was missing something. But he was the only apothecary aboard, one who’d served for over one hundred years- he throws the doubt of his brother away. That’s what this illness would want of him; To sow doubt.
He considered going to the chaplain again, standing outside of the chapel, but hesitated before making himself know .
If he keeps this up, what if the chaplain begins to suspect corruption? In a Victrix Guard? Even the mere suspicion would bring a stain upon him and his brothers.
He ended up entering despite the hesitation, and prayed in silence and solitude. For whatever was wrong with him to rear its ugly head so he could cut it off.
He returned to his post four hours later, the ash of incense on his armor.
He stood vigilant, though he feels the unconscious squaring of his shoulders as he noticed your approach.
'Greetings, Lord Marcellus.'
He found his eyes drawn to the shape of your lips. The soft skin, the peak of them under your nose, like the double head of his Aquila.
'Greetings.'
You passed by him, and he turned his head to continue following.
The way your hips gently curved was, interesting. You don't have the sharp lines and angles of armor, every part of you is this smooth, soft shape that confuses him. It’s so different, it felt almost unknown.
Marcellus abruptly bit the inside of his cheek, and pushed a sharp exhale through his nose. He doesn't understand why his eyes wander so. Yet again. He is lax in his fortitude- his faith. He is allowing trifling distractions possess his mind-
You're speaking to someone.
He watched you smile at the man. He can hear talk about the frigid air of the ship over other voices and the sounds of rattling pipes, and you laughed when he jokes about them turning to icicles. It's not until after the man leaves, that Marcellus realized how tight his gauntlets had gripped his shield until he loosens them with considerable noise complaint.
Staying stalwart at his post eats at him like a pack of rats, he can see his hearts rising and lowering in beats from the HUD of his helmet. When it is time for him to rotate out, he leaves with no parting words or even glanse.
He rushed to a corner of a random hall, tearing off his ornate helmet and allowing it to tumble across the floor.
His hearts raced in his chest, his throat is tight; His body is hot and his lower stomach is twisted in a knot.
Throne, it's getting worse. But he knows now.
It's you. You're doing something to him.
Anytime you are in his sight or in his mind is when this sickness overtakes him, when his body gets hotter and his hands almost feel like they're- Throne- like they're going to shake. His stomach tightens in knots, his skin feels like his blood is burning; He wants to tear off his armor and cure this indiscernible, throne-forsaken ache that overtakes his lower body.
He's never felt anything like this before. Bloodlust in the heat of battle sometimes felt similar, like fire was running through his veins, his hearts pumping hot blood. But this feeling is so much heavier, and isn't sated by the slaughter.
"Lord Marcellus?"
You let his name slip off your lips so gently, so innocently. He knows better.
You approached cautiously with your arms pulled close to your chest, tentatively looking at him.
"Are... Are you alright? I saw you leave quite quickly and forgive my prying I just, wanted to make sure you were-"
With a speed only an Astartes could muster he grasped your arm with a strength that has you yelping in pain, pulling you closer to him.
"Woman, what is this foul trickery you've placed on me?"
You looked up at him with eyes stricken full of fear, facing the full brunt of an astartes' booming voice. He could hear the fabric of your clothes scratch as you shook like a prey animal.
"Trickery? I, I have no idea what you're talking about!" He leaned inward.
“You know well! I feel this curse take over whenever you are close!”
He could already see the welling of tears in your eyes, shoulders rolled forward meekly.
Throne- damn that- he needs answers!
"I, I am so sorry for what I've done my lord, but I don't know what that is..."
Your arm shook in his grip, crippled by pain that surely radiates throughout your body. You've crumbled under his stare like a wounded animal laying down prepared to die- an expression he finds unfamiliar.
He let go of you. Your hand curled limply as you held it against your chest, unable to flex it without pain in your arm.
"Retrieve my helm."
Your eyes dart around his face for a moment before looking around, scurrying to pick up his golden helm off the ground and tentatively giving it over, while looking at the ground. He could see a few tears had fallen and stained your cheeks.
He took it with one hand, before leaving.
His quarters were the first place he thinks to retreat to. They're close, and he'll have a moment without the risk of prying eyes.
The walk there however is absent of such a mercy. Astartes look at him and the petulant expression on his face- he decided to put his helmet back on halfway there. Only when he reached the confines of his quarters did he remove it once more, hooking it onto his belt before sitting on the bunk as the metal let out a resounding groan of complaint.
His armoring suit felt like a gentle, teasing touch on his chest and back under his heavy armor. With each movement it sends jolts of something through his body as it brushed against his skin. He's never been able to actually feel it against him like this; Normally it feels like nothing. A second skin.
The sensation isn't... bad.
Marcellus shifted his jaw, feeling the muscles in his neck strain. He tries to ignore it, all of this, but time doesn't weather it in the slightest.
He wonders if you’re still crying.
"Lord Marcellus," A voice spoke over vox and interrupted a moment that had haken hold of his senses to a concerning degree. "You're needed on the deck."
Why must everything test him? What did he do, who did he scorn to have his mind fogged and in it for everyone to test his patience? Nothing works- it's only getting worse- his failure for letting the Emperor leave his mind and allowing it to darken.
"…I am on my way."
Marcellus rises to his feet- the mechanics of his armor let out a soft hiss.
He walked there with an overblown show of confidence, hiding his fear of the unknown underneath it.
What eats at him? He intends to find out.
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local-limebug · 2 days
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DBDA characters + formal desi attire: Charles and Edwin (Pt. 1)
This is not fanart, because I cannot draw, but if any fanartists want to use this as inspo, go ahead. And, before we begin, my fashion sense is not the best, so if any fellow desi people see this and have anything to add, go ahead. These aren't very detailed either tbh, because I am much more well versed in women's desi fashion than men's. Ok, now, let's go.
Charles Rowland
You know I had to start with my favourite desi boy of all time. I'm putting my man in a sherwani because he deserves it. Red's his colour, and it's also the colour associated with weddings in south asian culture, so yes, these pictures are technically bridegroom inspo.
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So, I absolutely adore embroidered sherwanis, and I do think Charles would slay one of these beyond imagination. For full outfit references, see below.
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Golden and red go together amazingly in desi wear, although they do usually denote wedding wear. But sherwanis fit so wonderfully on the shoulders + Charles' dangly gold earring would go so so well with the outfit !!
Edwin Payne
Yes, I'm imagining the British Raj era white boy in desi attire. Sue me. We all know blue's his colour, so of course I went for the blue sherwanis.
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Now, blue and golden are an amazing colour combination and my original choice, because I wanted there to be a common colour between Charles and Edwin, but blue and silver/white was easier to find on Pinterest. You can see golden highlights on a few of these, though, and this next one.
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This one is a bit plain but to be quite honest, it has a simple elegance to it that reminded me of Edwin. Its golden highlights mean that it would work best with golden trousers, like Charles' outfits up top.
BUT I also saw this amazing formal shalwar kameez in blue that I do think Edwin would look so so good in, so I have to add it here as a bonus idea.
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+ Bonus Payneland
So, desi men's attire also has this thing where the sherwani itself is a muted colour and the man wears a cloth draped around himself in the highlighted colour (IDK what the cloth is called 😭). But I found these similar ones in blue/white and red/golden combo, and yes, it reminded me of Payneland.
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LIKE. You can't tell me they wouldn't absolutely slay it. Like these are their wedding outfits to me, like for when they get married to each other.
Anyway, that's the limit for the pictures I can put on this post. Next one up is Crystal and Niko! I am so excited for Niko.
taglist because people seemed to want this and i don't want anyone to miss it. just say the word and i'll tag you for the next part: @queen-of-hobgobblers @mirabel-on-a-bicycle @shipspainfulships @read-write-thrive @justalunaticfangirl @guardianspirits13
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buddie911abc · 2 days
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Here I go again.
Buck asks Eddie if his son is the real reason he doesn't date. Eddie responds with, "That and, they weren't my type."
This has been a flag for everyone who reads the subtext, but let's take a moment to look at the last GIF.
Eddie says they weren't his type. Buck turns around to look at them and probably assesses what makes them, 'not' Eddie's type because the girls were all subjectively pretty. There were also a variety of types of women there.
But look closely at the GIF. Eddie said they weren't his type. While Buck is glancing back, Eddie gives Buck a quick look that really screams, "You are it. You are the type." When I noticed this from the GIF edit, I thought it might be the creator slowing it down, but nope. If I look at the episode, it is the same or nearly the same. This is early season two, and I have always thought, in the early episodes, there was no intent to pair Eddie with Buck as anything but a friend. However, this scene makes me wonder at what point Tim M or whoever was writing changed their minds about adding in a subtextual narrative.
I find it very difficult to see this scene as a heteronormative exchange. In fact, it even feels like Eddie is pushing back a little to test where Buck stands. Buck as a character who lacks self-awareness gives a mixed signal answer. (which tracks with his character at this point and matches his coming-out arc.) **edited to clarify** Buck's mixed signal response to Eddie saying they aren't my type is, "Not mine either, at least not anymore."**
A few seconds later, Buck says Eddie has a weak excuse. My lovely and wonderfully sassy Eddie says, "You live in your invisible girlfriend's house, and you're telling me about weak excuses." He essentially points at Buck's closet door, but of course, this is something that Buck couldn't see or pick up on at the time. These moments are small in the grand scheme of the show as a whole so I'm afraid it will be forgotten. It would be nice to have some sort of throwback acknowledgment that this scene hasn't been retconned.
To backtrack a little bit here, I would also like to point out something else about the early timing or the writing of these characters as potentially queer. They are outside. (True I don't understand the ins and outs of filmmaking so there may very well be a reason for this.) But the shot itself is making them walk close together. Not just close, their shoulders are literally bumping against each other, hitting and knocking at each other in a way that might appear "unintentionally" intimate--until you remember they are outside. It seems to me like there are dozens of ways to shoot this thing that don't require them to be so casually physical with each other. For the scene to be shot like this and then consider the canon conversation that took place, it feels quite intentional that the writers wanted viewers to look closely for something else.
Whenever certain people call Buddie shippers delusional, I think about this. Subtextual language aside, the scenes are shot in such a way as to plant the idea of "More." There is attraction here. There is flirting.
Someone, somewhere wanted to tell this story from the start; and I'm not mad about it. I'm 100% here for it, and I'm ready for it to go down as the most epic love story I've ever watched or read about, but I also admit that I want it to be canon, not so I can throw it in anyone's face that their ship is wrong, but so I can prove I'm not some weirdo putting two hot guys together. I'm seeing a real romance being built. I want that validation as much as I want everyone under the LGBTQ umbrella to see representation for themselves on screen.
If you want to see the scene, go to about 3:05.
youtube
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afterglowsainz · 4 hours
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snap out of it | pepe marti
pairing: reader x pepe marti, reader x bf!franco colapinto
summary: pepe has the biggest crush on you, but you’re too into franco to notice
fc: blanca soler
request: here
a/n: for the franco girlies, i’ll write a solo franco fic soon i promise, for the pepe girlies, i’m sorry <3
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liked by pepemartiofficial, francolapinto and others
yourusername somewhere in northern italy… 🧚🏼‍♀️
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username they’re the cutest couple 💍
username best f2 wag frrr
username what does it feel to live my dream 😭
username she’s serving so much face is insane
username back to the franco boyfriend material pics let’s gooo
username bestie wake up! y/n posted franco in a photo dump again!
username my favorites 💗
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f1 BREAKING: Franco Colapinto to race the remainder of the 2024 season replacing Logan Sargeant for Williams Racing
tagged francolapinto and williamsracing
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username omg what
username this is insaneeee
username so happy for him! 💙
username ohhh i don’t know much about him but hopefully he’ll do good this season
yourusername OMG LETS FUCKING GOOOOO🔥🔥
username someone needs to pr train y/n ASAP 😭
username so happy to see more young drivers getting into f1
francolapinto 💙💙💙
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yourusername not much going on, just my boyfriends last race in formula 2 before jumping to f1 and pepe’s masterclass of a driving
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username y/n back at the paddock omg i manifested this
username omg she’s hanging out with pepe again we’re sooo back
username i missed their friendship 😩
username same!
babickovaela prettiest girl 💗
yourusername that’s you 🫵🏽
username posted pepe in a photo dump AND praised him in the caption? ohhhh were so back
username no fr since she started dating franco they haven’t been together as much 😔
username maybe cause she has a boyfriend now??? idk priorities change when you start dating someone🤷🏽‍♀️
francolapinto ❤️ (liked by yourusername)
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francolapinto first formula 1 weekend: check ✅
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username such a great drive!
username not bad for a rookie 😎
landonorris great drive mate! keep it up👊🏽 (liked by francolapinto)
username congratulations franco 🇦🇷
username can’t wait to see more of him!
yourusername YOU DID SO GOOD
yourusername i’m so proud of you❤️
francolapinto love you💙
username when i go to a franco’s number 1 supporter competition and my opponents are lando and y/n
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yourusername dinner nights🍷 (featuring saucy🌭)
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username ohhh i didn’t know franco was dating a baddie
username a face people would go to war for
username SAUCY <3
username i fear i’m no longer in love with franco but with y/n
username so so gorgeous it’s unreal
francolapinto demasiado hermosa❤️‍🩹 (too beautiful)
yourusername ❤️
username 👆🏽this is too cute but i miss her interactions with pepe
username no cause are they even still friends? they don’t interact with each other anymore 😔
usernameno fr bring back the pepey/n friendship!
pepemartiofficial’s instagram stories
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[caption 1: 🥳] [caption 2: 🍾🍾🍾]
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francolapinto always a lovely time in baku 🇦🇿 the place for lovebombing and space❤️‍🩹
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culturalsillystine · 2 days
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This ended up longer than I intended.
Here's a long rant about Zero Day, denial, and finding comfort in your sickness.
.
One of the things that's stuck with us since our first time watching Zero Day is when Cal says something about not being able to cure someone who has nothing wrong with them.
Some people get so deep into their illness that they start to tell themselves, "There is nothing wrong with me." It's self-soothing, in a way. You have nothing to fix if there's nothing wrong, right? And you get sucked further and further into it until it's all you know, so it becomes normal. There's truly nothing wrong with you, because it's your norm, and how could that be wrong?
And then you get worse and worse until something happens. It could be something bad, such as Cal and Andre's case. Something people would usually never consider. But when you're sick, you're sick, and things don't make sense, and it doesn't matter what people would or wouldn't consider. Because you would, and you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.
That, or you get help. And Andre briefly mentions something, I think it may be before what Cal says? I'm not sure, correct me if I'm wrong. But he mentions something, says that even if they did get caught and got put in counseling or something, they'd get out, and they'd still do it.
And that leads you to wonder, is that true? Is that truly what would happen? Or are they feeling so untouchable and so powerful that they think NOTHING can stop them. Not even professional help.
And we'll never know. That's what I enjoy about Zero Day, there's so much we never know. We just have to trust these two boys who will present you with their truth, not the truth.
We see very little of Cal's family, and what we do see isn't bad. What we see of Andre's is.. conflicting. His family means well, but he's an 18 year old boy who likes guns and doesn't seem to get enough appreciation from his father. It writes itself, really.
We see none of Andre interacting with his peers, we only see Cal during the prom scenes. And the prom scenes are loud and irritating and awkward. He doesn't really try to be social, he takes the next possible chance to go to the only person he really bothers socializing with; Andre.
They're both very sick. Whether it's the same thing, something similar, or something entirely different, who's to say, but they find comfort in each other. They're both rotting away, and it's okay, because it's together. Whether or not it's based in love (platonic or romantic) or a hatred for the world so deep that your vision is blurred by your tears of rage, who knows. You never get to know.
Because the last thing those boys would want is to be vulnerable. Because that means something is wrong. But nothing can be wrong, because you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.
I hope this makes sense and isn't incoherent.
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souldagger · 1 day
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What would you like to see more of [in speculative fiction] in the next 10 years?
Amal El-Mohtar: That’s such a good question, the next 10 years. You know, I’m aware that when I find myself wanting to answer this, I don’t want it to come from a place of nostalgia. And I’m aware of the fact that I’m at an age where some of the things that are delighting me, the most are things that revisit stuff from my childhood in, like, weird, interesting new ways. And I know that I’m at the age where I’m being marketed to by that specifically. So seeing Interview With the Vampire delights me. Seeing X-Men ’97 delights me. But I don’t want to be pandered to in that specific way in the next 10 years. I don’t know if this is too froofy an answer but I really want to be dazzled and surprised, you know? To me, wanting to see more queerness means not just box ticking categories of, like, how many chocolate box kinds of queer can we see in a book representation-wise. I’m really interested to see books that queer shit, like queer as a verb. Maybe that’s what I’d say, I want to see queer as a verb more in books. I wanna see genre boundaries blurred at the same time that I wanna see really unapologetic deep dives into genre furniture to be like, give me the most melodramatic shit. Give me, like, the most maximalist iteration of the genre that you want and stuff. I think I just wanna see a lot more unabashed… something that is activating and lovely. It also feels very selfish and inchoate to say I just wanna be dazzled. I wanna be charmed. I think she also wanna see just, like, more I would love to see more SF digestion of other modes of writing. How can I put this? I just I wish I want people to read outside of genre so that they can bring into genre things that are exciting in other places. I wanna see cross-pollination. I just wanna see people being dazzled and excited by other stuff and then, like, bringing it in and exchanging. That’s where I thrive, I find. That’s why people get mad at my column a lot because it’s like, ‘where’s the science fiction and where is the fantasy?’ And I’m like, it’s here, it just looks different. It just looks different than what you have read.
from Eighteen Authors, Two Big Questions: What Is the Best Thing Happening in SFF Right Now, and What Do We Need More Of?
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