#if you have just kindly message me and i will take my post down

[justmymoonagedaydream]

i haven’t seen anyone make this one, so i made it🥰

[tainsan]

misfits (college!ateez x reader)

When your world comes crashing down, the only people who are able to comfort you are the notorious group, Ateez. You’ve heard rumour after rumour about the eight males who are ice cold, yet for some reason, they are the warmest people you know.

Please read me: {hello! so finally i have wrote enough for me to release the first chapter and i really hope it is good enough for the lovely people who have been patiently waiting. there will be more chapters to come in the future so please do look forward to them! just so you all know there is a few trigger warnings i have to go through so just in case you are uncomfortable with certain subjects to read with caution and with your own comfort in mind. at the start of every chapter i will put the warnings that correlate with the said chapter. in this story there are topics of swearing, depression, anxiety, ptsd, suicide, negelection and mental abuse. so if you are not comfortable reading these please either avoid this story or read with extreme caution. your wellbeing is more important than anything. 

Now like i said in my previous post, this is going to be a poly!ateez story so hence there will be future smut and suggestive themes (which i will also put in the warnings before the chapter starts) but the message in the story is very much about past trauma and finding people who can help, heal and love you despite your imperfections.

With that all said! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of ‘Misfits’ and thank you kindly for waiting. 

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr. 

with thanks to @musicdork and @moraxology for the help and ideas shared with me. thank you <3

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

Misfits, Chapter 1

⇢ masterlist ⇠ 

⇢ next chapter

warnings: anxiety attack, swearing, mentions of a house fire.

word count: 8.8k

Heart dropping to your stomach, you attempt to make sense of the words that are displayed on the small illuminating screen sat in front of you. Devastation hits you like a ton of bricks as you realise once again, it feels like the world is trying to punish you. Reading over the email once again, you let out an exasperated groan and let your head fall down onto your arms relaxing on the table.

“You’re homeless?” Your best friend almost screeches, scanning over the email present on your small laptop screen. 

“Okay a little louder Jisung and the aliens on the Saturn will fucking hear you,” You react, your voice muffled by your clothes.

“What happened? I thought your place was in one of the nicer areas?” 

Looking up from the desk, you see Jisung peering at you with a concerned expression.

“Do you remember those new tenants that moved in below me?” you ask, causing Jisung to nod his head, "Well they accidentally started a fire, and it burnt down half of the place because the owners weren’t smart enough to install fire hydrants around the residence.

“Isn’t it illegal to not have designated fire hydrants in a building?” 

“Probably, I mean that’s what I get for going for the cheapest available housing I could find, they say it's going to take at least a year to repair the damage.”

"Are all of your belongings okay?" 

"Not really, I managed to save most things like my books and some clothes but everything else is burnt. They say they are going to give me some money back for the damage, but I doubt it’ll be much."

"Then where are you staying now?"

"Yeji said I could stay with her for a few days, but she has a roommate moving in soon, so I have to get out before the end of this week."

"You have to start looking for a place to live __, I wish I could help you," 

Jisung lives with his boyfriend and friends in great student accommodation, there are only four rooms, yet they manage to fit eight grown men in there. Sadly, there's simply not enough space for another person.

“I’m aware of that, but all the school properties are full, and I’ve seen no flyers from people searching for roommates. There’s no way I'm looking for housing outside of the area, I would have to sell both my kidneys to afford a month's worth of rent. This apartment was the only place that was in my budget if I didn't want a roommate. At this point, I should probably start looking for a nice cosy bridge to live under.” 

Jisung lets out a stifled laugh before quickly covering his mouth realising the two of you are residing in a library. Being in a secluded area, noise isn’t really a problem, yet three other people are sitting near you, resting on the opposite side of the large wooden table. Two huddled next to each other, sharing a laptop, likely watching YouTube and one with striking blonde hair resting his head on his arms, undoubtedly sleeping.

“How many days until you have to move out?” Jisung inquires, laying his head on his hand and gazing at you. 

“Uh, I think like a week,” 

“Oh, so it’s not like you have to move out right now,” your best friend replies, a calm smile covering his features.

“Yeah, but I doubt that somebody is abruptly going to need a roommate out of nowhere,” 

Then, you hear rustling, then suddenly the guy who was sleeping on your table abruptly stands up, grabs his things, and rushes out of the library. 

“Probably had a nightmare or something,” Jisung chuckles, lighting up your mood.

“When’s your next lesson?” You ask, hoping he doesn't have to leave too soon. 

Observing as Jisung whips out his phone and looks at the time, he lets out a sigh.

“Starts in seven minutes, it takes like five minutes to walk there. I better get going,” Jisung replies, grabbing his books and laptop.

“Must you leave so soon? You can’t leave me here to tutor for three hours straight.” You let out a fake cry and hang onto his arm, pleading for him to stay. 

“You're the one who wanted the extra credit, don't blame me!” 

Bickering for a minute more, you eventually let Jisung get to his class, the two others across the table departing as well, leaving you alone.

Grumbling to yourself, you wonder why you even offered to tutor people, the extra credit is little to nothing. Alas, it’s too late to back out now as you have two people arriving soon. Typically, you only take people who you know personally, but Jisung’s boyfriend, Minho, said two of his classmates requested him to ask you to tutor, telling him they really needed assistance in maths. You hope they are pleasant because you are not about to be spending the next three hours with two arseholes.

You also typically only take one person at a time but due to your current tight schedule, you decided to just do two at once. You need the time later to look for new places to live anyway. The unknown two needed teaching in the same subject at least, works out fine.

Returning to your laptop you start typing, trying to finish as much of your lab report as you can before they show up.

“No Yeosang said she was around this corner.” 

A hushed voice breaks you out of your concentration, yet you pay no interest and hurriedly get back to typing.

“You’re __ right?” A monotone voice speaks out from your left.

You turn upon hearing your name and see a guy standing next to where you are sitting. Quickly you scan over his face, noticing the way his cheeks display small dimples as his face shifts and the slit in one of his eyebrows.

“I’m San, Minho told you about us, right?” 

Noting the way he said ‘us’, you turn fully backwards and see a noticeably built man standing by San, his face holding little to no emotion as he stares blankly towards you. In your mind, you hope these aren’t the two you are tutoring, noticing how intimidating their presence is.

“We are here for tutoring lessons,” the unnamed person speaks, and you curse upon your luck.

“Oh right, you can take a seat where you’d like.”

You mentally cuss out Minho for not informing you about how intense and handsome his classmates were, you let out a scoff under your breath as you start to pull out your maths textbooks.

“So, what were your guy's names, I’m not too good with names so if I forget, please don't take it personally,” you shyly confess, hoping they are not going to take it the wrong way. You detect the way some sort of stunned expression goes across their faces, but it disappears as soon as it had appeared.

“I’m Choi San, good to meet you.” San nods in your direction, his emotions still unreadable, a subtle glare still present along his features.

“San, I see. You too,” You mumble, slightly scared by his strong character. You attempt a small smile and shake his hand, trying to ignore the way you feel his eyes boring into your skull. Moving your attention to the man sitting next to him, you smile gently, noticing the way his cheeks are dusted with a light pink colour.

“Choi Jongho,” He reaches out his hand and you gladly take it, feeling slightly less intimidated by the seemingly kinder man.

Replying with your own name, you realise they already knew it, making you curse yourself for the sheer awkwardness emitting from your body as you notice Jongho and San are neither looking at you.

Slightly glancing up at you, San notices your flustered state and a faint smile ghosts his face.

Shaking off your clumsiness rapidly, you start to focus on the task at hand.

“So, what are you two looking to go over today?” you ask, opening your notebook that was conveniently placed in front of you. What you don’t expect is Jongho and San immediately look at each other with wide eyes, almost as if they are taken aback by the question.

“You guys don’t know what you want to go over?” 

“No, sorry, we have been having problems with our two recent algebra assignments.” Jongho replies, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly as he ruffles his black hair. 

“Okay then,” you answer, a little puzzled at the two's sudden and strange gestures, yet you pay no mind to it as you reach into your backpack to grab your mathematics textbook. You’ve seen much stranger things in this college anyway.

When you proceed with the session you are surprised by the two men sitting in front of you. Although being very intimidating, the two are very good listeners and attentive to everything you say or do. Writing notes and nodding at almost every word you say. After an extensive explanation, you let Jongho and San try to solve a practice question. During this time, you take the time to admire the two in front of you. You can see they are extremely close by the way their bodies face each other naturally, and the way they look at each other. Meanwhile, you can’t help but wonder why you haven't seen them on campus before. Certainly, you would've heard or seen something about these two very good-looking men, knowing how much the people here like to gossip. Well after all, you have never been one for gossip and fangirling over the popular campus heartthrobs. Brushing your thoughts to the side, you start to read over the same page for the fifth time.

After the second hour, it intrigues you how smart they are, only needing you to once go over something and they already have the answer or even occasionally you swear you see one of them write an answer without you describing how to find it. Perhaps they are fast learners? Due to the fact, they are so quick, it only takes two of the three hours for you to cover everything they wished to go over, and their assignments are almost finished, just needing the final touches.

"There we go,” you exclaim, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a content groan as you let your back straighten up, "if you need future help, you can always call me." Even though it’s perhaps pretentious to offer this to such tough guys, you’re happy to be able to have such good students who actually listen. Unlike your last session which you spent way too many hours on.

Jongho looks up from his laptop with a wide eye look, "that’d be helpful," 

"Can you take my number?" San holds his hand open, expecting your phone and you are shocked at his utter forwardness. Even though you know it’s not intended in a flirtatious way, your heart quickens at the gesture, never having been asked for your number before. 

Passing your phone to the male in front of you, you notice San observing the Sanrio stickers stuck to the back of it. The male lets out a short burst of air through his nose, and you don’t know whether he’s mocking you or scoffing. As you look at him to analyse his reaction, you see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t seem in a taunting way. You continue staring at him as he puts his number into your phone.

Unexpectedly he looks up and straight into your investigating eyes, catching you by surprise, immediately looking away from him and at the open book in front of you pretending to read it, even though you know he knows you have already read over the page multiple times in the past ten minutes.

“Wait, what time is it?" Jongho asks San. Watching San pull out his phone, you see a glimpse of his phone case, it looks something like a character, but you can’t see it as he places his phone face up on the table.

"Quarter to twelve," San responds, his phone screen lighting up for a split second, you manage to catch a quick sight of his lock screen. It appears to be a group photo, with numerous faces smiling brightly at the camera. So, they have more friends.

"We have about thirty minutes till ecology, do you want to go to the canteen?" Jongho questions as he begins to put his belongings into his bag. 

"I could use a snack,” San answers, stretching back into the chair, his arms above his head just as you did earlier.

"Coming with us?" Jongho asks as he stands up from his chair and pushes it back beneath the table.

Bewildered by the question, you wonder as to why they want you to come when they have been nothing but distant this entire time. Glancing back at your unfinished lab report displayed on your laptop, you feel conflicted. Yet a break from the tedious work would be rather nice. There's no harm in pulling another all-nighter.

"I could also do with something to eat," Your smile is bright as you stuff your laptop into your bag, happy to have a reason to escape the tedious work on the small screen of your laptop. 

It is a rather fast walk to the canteen; it is conveniently on the same wing as the library. Expecting the canteen to be full to the brim of students getting lunch, you’re surprised to see the canteen completely empty. You are rather pleased with the serenity of the canteen, feeling at ease that there are no judging eyes watching your every move. Pacing over to the cooled section of food, your footsteps echo in the large room, then you notice San and Jongho trailing after you, looking quite lost. 

"Have you guys never been to the canteen before or something?" You inquire, chuckling at their antics before grabbing a carton of banana milk and an apple.

"It's not particularly our scene, we eat our meals at our place." San answers, staring down at the banana milk in your hand. So, they live together, it makes sense seeing how close they are.

“You guys don't live in student buildings?” You question, that does explain why you've never seen them around, knowing most people who reside in the student dorms. You resume walking towards a table to sit, you grab two more banana milk before sitting down and popping a straw into your drink.

"No, we live near the new park, Eastwood Drive," Jongho replies.

This information almost makes you spit out your drink. Eastwood is not only part of a huge real estate area but one of the richest areas near our school. Absolutely no students would be able to afford that. It's an area full of houses like mansions or condos bigger than a regular house.

"Are you okay?" Jongho asks, hurriedly rushing to your side and patting your back, San chuckles at the scene and passes you a bottle of water from his seat. 

"Yes, I'm fine," You say between coughs, "thank you," you take a gulp of water from the bottle before handing it back to him.

"Sorry it's just, how on earth do you afford that house there's no way you guys just have it. Did you have to sell your soul to the devil or something?" 

Both males let out soft laughs and for the first time you see something other than scowls on their faces, instead replaced by gentle amusement.

"No, we didn't, one of our roommates' mothers is the owner of the real estate and she lets us live there," San answers your question.

"We do still have to pay rent, which is above average, but it's not anything like the rent we would have to pay if we were actually living there," Jongho adds, "plus we have quite a few roommates, so it's spread out pretty evenly." So, they have multiple roommates.

"I see," you hum as you let the information in. Of course, they have several roommates, the house is big enough for ten people, most likely. 

"And you?" Jongho questions looking at you. His expression is back to his resting face, until he realises his question, eyes going wide he continues, “not in a creepy, I'm sorry please don't take it the wrong way!" he rambles on. 

Laughing out, you wave your hands in a friendly way to dismiss his thoughts.

"No no, it's okay," you chuckle, not really sure how to explain to them that your house was recently made into a fresh stock of charcoal.

“It's kind of complicated I'll be honest," you start, San and Jongho’s expressions twitch in curiosity, "Well I was living at Coast Lane," 

"Oh, the one near the shopping centre?" Jongho inquires. You nod your head back in confirmation.

"Wait but wasn't that place burnt down a few days ago?" San asks, looking at Jongho and then back at you with a worried look. Their hearts fill with worry for you.

"Yep," you say, popping the p at the end, "that's why I said I was living," you say looking down, chucking dryly.

"Where are you living now then?" San asks, his voice laced with something similar to worry. 

"I'm staying at a friend's house, but they are getting a new roommate at the end of this week, so I need to move out by then." 

"Have you found anywhere to live yet?" Jongho questions, looking sorrowful. You are surprised by the amount of worry you suddenly feel from San and Jongho. However, you shake your head as 'no' and proceed to take another sip of your drink. 

"I have an idea." San abruptly says standing up from his chair, catching your and Jongho's attention, "Excuse me I have to talk to someone, Jongho. Joong." 

Jongho's eyes light up with some sort of awareness and he also rapidly stands from his chair, leaving you even more confused, unsure where the sudden energy comes from, you also wonder who the fuck 'Joong' is and why do they need to see him so suddenly. 

"See you soon, __.” Jongho’s smile is warm and contagious, he then turns to leave with the taller man.

"Wait, guys!” You exclaim, "here," you hand them both a cartoon of banana milk that you grabbed earlier. "Drink these, you can't focus if you're dehydrated, " you say, heat rising up from your chest. 

Both of the men look at you shocked at the kind gesture, surprised someone actually cares about their well-being. Giving you a thank you, the two men leave with red subtly covering their cheeks, both trying to immediately force it away before someone sees them with a giddy expression.

 ----

"Then they just stood up and left," You replay the events from earlier today to Jisung, who is sipping on a mojito. After the busy day you both shared, Jisung and you decided to go to a bar that recently opened not too far from campus. It is small and cosy, not too full of people, mostly students from your school rewinding from the day, just like you.

"Psycho behaviour," Jisung jokes whilst you take a sip of your drink. Laughing, you push Jisung's arm gently.

"I don't know, they were certainly intimidating but I could tell they were okay people," you exclaim truthfully. If you said that the three hours you spent with the two weren't pleasant you’d be lying.

"Do you have a crush on them or something?" Jisung inquires, rather loudly, getting far too excited. Hoping that no one heard him through the low jazz music resounding in the small bar, you quieten down your best friend quickly by covering his mouth with your free hand.

"Ji the entire bar does not need to know about my personal endeavours, and no I do not have a crush on them, they are just simply cute," you say exasperated.

“So, you do find them cute! The last time you had a crush as back in high school, this is big news,”

“There is no news dumbass, they are just cute. I find kittens cute, and I don’t want to date them.”

Jisung’s face contorts into a mixture of disgust and humour.

"Wait, what are their names?" Jisung questions his voice back to a reasonable volume.

"Choi San and Choi Jongho, I've never even heard of them, to be honest. You'd think I would've seen these handsome men bef, what is with that look on your face?" you stop your ramble as you see the very obviously shocked look on Jisung's face. 

"Are you fucking serious?" Jisung says slowly.

Confused, you simply answer, "yeah they needed help with maths. it was your boyfriend who set the tutor session up."

"Yeah, because they probably threatened him?" Jisung says tensing up.

"What do you mean threatened, they were huge sweethearts," you say amused at Jisung. Your laughing momentarily halts when you see the serious look on Jisung's small face.

"What is it?" 

"___, Choi San and Choi Jongho are part of that group." 

Your baffled expression remains on your features, clearly unfazed by this information.

"What is that like a cult or something?" you joke.

"Girl, are you living under a fucking rock? Ateez, the group called Ateez. The super scary ones practically haunt this school. I'm surprised they talked to Minho. I'm pretty sure he's going to be scarred now."

Slowly but surely, your brain starts to put things into place.

"Wait, that group Sola told us about?”

As Jisung confirms your question, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. A few months ago, you had been told by some classmates about them briefly, they were talking rather loudly about them. Apparently, they had done some terrible things when they were in high school then just disappeared for a few years. Most people thought they dropped out or moved abroad. The year they returned, they started this university out of nowhere together and have been a notorious group ever since, being known for staying foul and bitter towards everyone except themselves. Yet, nobody seems to know the reason for their ice-cold hearts. You never really bothered to keep up with the rumours or gossip, it wasn’t necessary for you to know, however you start to think maybe you should pay more attention due to your recent interaction with two of the people in the group.

"But they were nice?" your question, more to yourself than to Jisung.

"I don't know about you, but you probably got the wrong people." 

You don't believe Jisung is lying but at the same time… The two men you had tutored earlier today were definitely not members of the notorious group. 

Surely not. 

Yes, they were intimidating, but nowhere near as bad as anything people say about them. From what you've heard about the group, they are cold, heartless, selfish, and miserable. Staying only in the group of eight, others not even daring to look them in the eyes as they pass them.

"If they were the people that you were tutoring yesterday, you may have gotten yourself into something you can't get out of. They have hundreds of fangirls, who are very possessive over them and people who want them dead. I don’t know of a single person who is fond of them. It’s best if you stay far away from them." Jisung says with a nervous expression. 

Unexpectedly, his phone lights up and you see Minho's caller ID appear. Jisung glances back up at you with a questioning look, requesting if he can take it.

"Go ahead," you push your smile and watch as he leaves to find a quiet place.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest and you feel your throat tighten. ‘Come on’ you think, this isn't the best place for you to have an anxiety attack. Possibly, it's that the new information is far too overwhelming. You are barely keeping up with your classes, your apartment just burnt down, and now you’re somewhat engaged with an apparently dangerous group that has no good stories. Feeling your breathing getting jagged and your heart getting heavier by the second, you attempt to focus on your breathing. Trying to remember the breathing exercises your mother taught you when you were younger, you attempt breathing in deeply, but it doesn't work, leaving you to breathe in and out in a fast manner. It's okay, it's okay. You repeat yourself, in an attempt to comfort yourself, but your brain is yelling 'it's not okay, look how stupid you've been and got yourself into a senseless situation again. Fucking idiot'. You put your head in your hands and start gently rocking on the barstool, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. Unexpectedly, a presence appears next to you and before you know it, their warm hand is rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner. 

"Shh it's okay, it's all going to be okay." a deep voice speaks from your right. You don't care to look up, only basking in the way the figure's hand caresses your back in a comforting way. To your surprise, it works miracles. Your breathing is back to a reasonable state within the next minute. Only then do you look up from your hands, your eyes lock with a beautiful man. He wears a comforting smile, his eyes full of sympathy and something else you can't quite put your finger on, his hand not slowing on your back. Trying to smile back at him, you wipe the tears you didn't even know had fallen, with the sleeves of your sweatshirt before regaining the words to speak.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you say, abruptly embarrassed that a very handsome man just had to see a small breakdown of yours. 

"It's perfectly okay. I've had enough anxiety attacks to know you can't control where you have them." the man admits, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile on his face. The voice of the man is deep, yet soft, making you feel awfully relaxed.

"You have anxiety?" you ask, sniffling your nose.

The man chuckles and looks down at his hands, "longer than I can remember, yeah," he looks back up at you, "rubbing my back is how my friends comfort me, so I hope it somewhat worked for you too." 

"It worked amazingly, it's actually how my mother used to comfort me," you express, still slightly ashamed to be sharing this information with a stranger, let alone such a good-looking one. Yet knowing he goes through the same things as you, comforts you more than you realise. The male looks around him, almost as if he’s worried someone will see him, he then looks back down to your smaller figure which is closer to him than he remembered. Clearing his throat, he steps away a little bit, concerned you would feel uncomfortable with the closeness of your bodies. 

“I do need to go now, but it was nice to meet you," The man says whilst leaving the barstool to your right. Not sure why, but you feel sad that he has to leave so soon. Feeling so relaxed around a stranger has you shocked, wishing you could stay with this unknown feeling.

"Thank you," you say, grateful to have him there for you.

"Anytime.”

"I’ll see you around." You return his smile.

Nodding his head, he gives one last smile before departing the bar's exit, a growing smile adorning his features as he exits the bar.

“Hey I’m back.”

Whipping your head to the left, you see Jisung sitting back in his stool. Opening your mouth to tell him about what just happened, you attempt to get the words out but for some reason, you are unable to find the words. Not wanting to worry your best friend with your sudden onset anxiety attack, you decide to stay quiet.

What are these unexplainable encounters you've been having with handsome men recently?

----

Climbing over bags and coats, you find a seat in a calmer area of the stadium you just arrived at. Spotting Minho in the field doing some warm-ups with his team, you feel relaxed to see someone you know. When he sees you, he waves happily. Smiling, you reach for your phone to quickly text Jisung asking where he is. All of a sudden, a rush of cold air gets swept in by the wind, causing you to freeze up. Never liking the cold, you debate heavily at this moment whether you should just leave. However, you travelled all the way from Yeji’s to here in the cold. It seems like a waste to just go back, even if it freezes you to death to stay. After all, you need to support Minho, him being one of your only friends, for the football game. Jisung is supposed to be joining you but you’re sure he's busy picking out a cute outfit to swoon Minho. 

Over the past few days Jisung has been trying to teach you the names of Ateez so you know to run if they approach you. Seemingly stupid, but you do need fewer distractions in the hope to graduate with honours. From what Jisung has told you, there are eight members, and they are all of similar age, the youngest being in the same classes as he managed to skip a year due to him exceeding the level of people his age. However, Jisung teaching you their names doesn’t really stick to you, never being good at names it doesn’t help that you don’t know what they look like. It would be much easier learning their names if you actually had photos so you can put a name to a face, but of course they don’t have Instagram accounts, and if they saw people taking photos of them, they’d likely murder you on the spot. Or that’s what Jisung says.

You are suddenly brought out of your thoughts when a voice sounds in your ears.

“Could I sit here?” a soft, yet deep captivating voice speaks out. 

Curiously, you look to your left to see who the owner of the voice is. Surprisingly, you see a blonde male with a mask covering his face. He is standing next to the seat where you have placed your bag, and you realise he is asking for the seat.

“Oh yes, of course, sorry,” you hurriedly grab your bag and place it between your legs, allowing the male to take a place next to you.

“Thank you,” he says, a very small smile on his lips. When he sits down, he takes off his mask, and you glance at him one more time, taking in his visuals. With his fluffy hair and red tinted cheeks and a small mark of pink next to one of his eyes, he is truly a work of art. Yet, for some reason, you can't help but feel like you've seen him before.

“I'm sorry have I met you before, you seem really familiar?” you ask inquisitively, not being able to match a name to a face.

“We may have run into each other once or twice,” the blonde male puts his hand out for a handshake.

Gladly taking his hand in yours, you shake with a small smile on your face.

“It is a small world, I'm __.” 

The male takes his hand away and back into his coat pocket, shivering in the icy air.

“Are you Jisung's girlfriend?” he questions.

Rolling your eyes, slightly annoyed at the question, you go to answer. It has been thousands of times that people have asked about your and Jisung's relationship, mistaking you for a couple and not just a couple of friends. After a while it gets rather irritating, the question being asked countless amounts of times.

"No, we aren't, we are just best friends, I'm pretty sure Jisung came out as gay like two years ago. Plus, he's literally dating the quarterback, Lee Minho." you chuckle slightly.

"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in any way." 

"No! It's really okay, it's just I get asked a lot, so it becomes annoying after a while. I mean look at Jisung, he has baby girl written all over him." 

“Cold?” he questions.

The blondie next to you lets out a small chuckle acknowledging the man you are always with isn’t your boyfriend.

Sensing a gaze on you, you turn back to the blonde male whose eyes are looking at the goosebumps on your exposed arms.

“I probably should’ve brought at least a jumper. I've been so wrapped up with exams and tutoring I’ve been forgetting everything,” you say, laughing slightly, embarrassed that you went outside wearing just a t-shirt in the middle of November.

The male lets out a laugh before speaking, “it’s okay, I understand. If I’m being honest, I've also been having so much struggle with studying, my stress is all over the place.” He wonders for a second why he even shared this with you, concerned for a second you will see him in a bad light.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” you contemplate for a moment, “Look I have these if you want,” reaching into your pocket, you grab some rescue drops. “These help me a lot,”

You place the small bottle in his hand, and a giant smile covers his face. “What? I’ve actually been looking for these everywhere and I can never find them! They’ve been sold out in every shop.” Blondie looks back up at you, “but you have anxiety you need these more than me,” 

Pausing for a second, you wonder how he knows you have anxiety, nonetheless, you continue “It’s perfectly fine, Jisung’s parents work at a pharmacy back in my hometown and they send me a few of these whenever they are in stock, you can keep them.” you inform him, his smile brightening your cold mood shockingly fast. You’re not even sure why you gave him them, it was your last bottle. You guess that’s what happens when you are a people pleaser. The smile on the male’s face only grows wider, his heart jumping at your kind action.

“Thank you so much __,”

“It’s no worries, if you ever need some more, look for the loud group of small guys acting like four-year-olds.” you laugh, and he chuckles along with you, making a mental note, even though he knows he will likely never approach the group.

Before you can focus back on the starting game, you feel a soft material cover your shivering body. It is a large zip-up that smells of rich, sweet perfume. Turning quickly to the blonde guy with confusion covering your features, you hurriedly dismiss the action, seeing his arms exposed to the winter air.

“I can’t take this; you’ll get too cold.” you stop your words as he pulls out another sweater from his bag. 

“I've got my friend’s sweater, you keep mine until you’re warm.” he turns to face the game, "or until Jisung sees and freaks out and tells everyone you have a secret boyfriend." he jokes.

“You seem to know Jisung?” you ask, wondering how he knows Jisung’s personality quite well.

“Well, we know each other, but we aren’t particularly friends,” blondie turns fully towards you, “are you sure you don’t know me at all?”

“I'm sorry but I really only have like two friends, I don't really go out.” 

“But Jisung is super popular, aren't you in his huge partying friend group?”

“Not really, his friends are lovely but I’m only close with him and his boyfriend, I'm not too good at making friends.” you quietly mumble the last part. You look over at the blondie and see he has slight confusion on his face.

“You are so kind, I’m sure anyone would want to be your friend." 

"You’d be the first to think that" you dryly admit, which causes the male to feel a twinge of pain and guilt in his heart, "I would rather stay inside all-day binge-watching television whilst eating away my stress,"

"Well, that’s one thing we have in common." 

Sharing a warm smile with him, you start to get lost in your thoughts again, but then you realise a question you never returned.

“I’m so sorry I never got your name.”

“No worries, I’m Yeosang.” he has the same smile on his face, making you feel warm despite the bitter winter air. Then his familiarity dawns on you.

“Kang?” you inquire, your voice rising ever so slightly.

“That’s me,” he smiles at me, and you don't know if your heart rises because of how beautiful his smile is or because you recognise the name from Jisung’s teaching session with the members of Ateez.

“Like from Ateez,” you question, watching your words, if Ateez is as bad as Jisung is saying then you definitely need to watch your words.

Yeosang turns to you, almost looking baffled.

“I thought you didn't know about Ateez?” he questions, shocked.

“What made you think that?”

“Just a guess I suppose, being that you don't really go out I assumed you weren’t really interested in the groups and stuff.” 

“Ah well not particularly, but recently I suppose I’ve gotten to know about it better.”

“You're not scared, are you?” you see Yeosang tense up a little, his eyebrows furrowed. He hopes for the best, not knowing how you will react. Surprisingly, your heart softens at this question, he seems upset for some reason, as if he doesn't want to be seen this way. You feel bad for ever acting stressed towards him.

“Don't worry, the only person that scares me is Jisung when he's hungry.” you joke out, relaxing the tension and calming him. From what you can see, Yeosang is just kind and calm. The only thing that's menacing about him is the fact he’s drop-dead gorgeous.

Yeosang lets out a small chuckle, “well I guess now I know I need to avoid Jisung if he’s hungry,”

You agree with the blonde man, whilst lightly laughing.

“Wait, but why are you watching? Aren’t you supposed to be on the pitch?” You ask him, confused, remembering Jisung informing you that Yeosang is a part of one of the school's football teams, along with someone else whose name you can’t remember at the moment. For a moment Yeosang’s chest fills with pride, knowing you know something about him.

“Someone is taking my spot today, I was told to analyse the opposing team to find out their habits and stuff, hence the notepad.”

Looking down, you notice the small notepad with doodles all over the cover, making your heart swell. Yeosang continues to talk,

“Don’t tell my tactics to Minho,” he jokes with a grin on his face, knowing Minho is on the other team.

“I would never betray you like that,” you place your hand over your chest acting offended. 

Both cracking up, you speak up again, “don't worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Sang!” You hear a voice call from the left, and your eyes lay on another attractive man, “Coach told us to sit with him,” this male also has a notepad in his grip. 

You know this guy. He works in a small café not too far from campus, it is down a narrow alleyway, covered by vines and moss. It was a very hidden spot and only locals really knew the place. Only knowing it because you walked past it every day for a year as the alleyway was a shortcut to your housing from the campus. Barely anyone goes there, the regulars being either old women or businesspeople quickly rushing in to get a coffee before work starts. Back at the beginning of the semester, you used to go to the café a lot because of the raspberry muffins, yet they stopped selling them thus forth you stopped going as much. It was also due to the fact you had barely any time to sleep, so you cut it out of your morning schedule to be able to sleep in a little. You think the guy’s name was Wooyoung if you can remember his name tag correctly. You notice he sees you sitting next to Yeosang, with his friend’s hoodie over your shoulders and a smile consumes his entire face. 

“Muffin?” he looks confused, yet somewhat glad to see you once again. The nickname extremely takes you aback. “Why did you stop coming to the café?”

As far as you can recall, back when you visited the café, this server was rather distant and limited to saying little to no words whilst waiting. Seeing him like this confuses you severely. Alas, you let out a giggle and both of the boys' grins widen visibly.

“You two better get going, I'm not sure your coach wants to wait any longer.” 

Yeosang stands up and straightens out his pants before turning to you,

“Hopefully I’ll see you around.” he smiles warmly. Smiling back at him, you nod. Yeosang starts to leave with Wooyoung before he turns around.

“I better see you at the café tomorrow! Plus, that sweater looks good on you, Muffin.” he winks and Yeosang slaps the back of his head.  You can’t help but giggle yet feel flustered. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung walk towards the coach’s section, Yeosang slightly more affected than the male next to him. Hopefully he will get his hoodie back, and hopefully it will smell like you. After this interaction, your mind was even more confused. If you remember correctly, Yeosang and Wooyoung have a very big reputation for being some of the rudest and coldest towards people. Yet they were so friendly when you were with them. Is everything all these people are saying about them true or maybe the group of eight is just deeply misunderstood?

Whatever it is, you need to talk to Jisung about this, but you will wait until the game is over.

----

The night of the interaction between Yeosang and Wooyoung, Jisung, Minho and you reside at their apartment, eating chicken and watching a shitty romcom for background noise. The rest of his roommates are out celebrating the start of the football season. You have no idea why it started mid-way through November but okay.

“I said I would come; they were too sweet to say no to!” You exclaim, throwing your head back against the couch, regretting saying yes. 

“It was definitely Yeosang and Wooyoung?” Minho questions, not believing any part of my story.

“Yes! Yeosang has the birthmark next to his eye like Ji described and Wooyoung was the guy who works at that one café I used to go to all the time,”

“Well, I never knew Wooyoung worked at a café, that doesn't really match the hardcore scary image they are going for, are you sure you’re not going delusional?” Jisung admits, chuckling.

“What are you going to do?” Minho questions, passing you a drumstick. 

You take a big bite, before speaking, “I should just go, if I don't show up, they might murder me as you two say. Which is very unbelievable seeing how fucking cheerful they’ve all been.”

“Well, you’ve only met four, the rest are probably a nightmare,” Jisung says, his mouth full of chicken, Minho humming in agreement next to him.

“You two are supposed to be comforting me.” you groan, throwing your head into your hands. 

“Okay, don't worry __, if they have been as nice as you’ve been saying then just show up and if they aren't nice then call Chan and Changbin and I’m sure they will gladly sort them out for you.” Minho laughs.

 ----

Keeping your promise, you showed up at the café the next day. 

Opening the painted door, the bell rings notifying your entrance. Immediately you spot Wooyoung relaxing against the counter, scrolling through his phone, visibly bored. There are only a few people in the café, mostly reading books or typing on laptops. You see a flash of pink hair in the corner, yet you lose focus as quickly as you had it as you continue to walk further in.

“Welcome to Veranda Café,” Wooyoung says unbothered, still staring at his phone as you walk closer to where all the cakes were on display. Much to your dismay, you fail to see a raspberry muffin on display.

“I see you still don’t have any raspberry muffins.” You speak out in front of where Wooyoung is standing, making his head immediately snap up.

“__! I was starting to worry you weren't going to show up.” He exclaims, a contagious smile wide on his face. Immediately putting his phone in his pocket, giving his attention to you. He leans on the counter. Extremely happy you showed up.

“I never break my promises,” you grin at the black-haired man.

“Oh, one moment.” He speaks out excitedly, like a puppy, and turns to where he was sitting. Opening up a small fridge, he brings out the biggest, most beautiful raspberry muffin you have ever seen.

“Yeosang and I made this morning for you.” he gestures over to the corner, and you see the blonde male from yesterday, he is sitting next to someone, yet you can’t see them from where you’re standing. Yeosang shyly waves and you smile and wave back. Heart beating faster and cheeks warming up, you take the muffin happily. Wooyoung smiles brightly at you, feeling prideful at the way your eyes light up from the muffin.

“We stopped making these muffins because the owner didn’t think anyone was buying them, it made me upset because I knew you liked them,” Wooyoung says, making direct eye contact with you, making you weak at the knees. Wondering how he even remembered you, you still feel thankful he thought of you, even if it was a long time ago.

“It’s a shame but I'm sure there are lots of other tasty things here too. Anyways, thank you so much, you guys are the best.” you say, sincerity dripping in your words. Wooyoung just shrugs like he doesn't care, but the big smile on his face and the redness dusting his ears tells a different story.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, getting out your purse.

Swiftly, Wooyoung grabs your hand halting its actions, “it’s on us, for being so kind, Yeosang and one of our friends really needed those rescue drops.” He lowers his voice, “between us, their anxiety has been really bad recently, and the stuff works wonders. Plus, you were always my favourite customer anyways.” Wooyoung admits, smiling, his cheeks get a deeper colour of red. Your heart warms up once again, which is strange to you. You haven't felt this happiness in a very long time. Maybe things are starting to get better. Happily taking the muffin, you make your way to Yeosang who is reading a book.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you inquire, repeating his words from yesterday, yet when your eyes meet the figure sitting next to him, they light up as you recognise him.

“I know you!” You exclaim, a little too loudly, causing people around you to glare in your direction. Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden attention, you quickly sit down in a shielded area, away from all the glares. 

“You two know each other?” Yeosang asks, intrigued by your sudden remark.

“It is you, right?” you ask just in case you’re mistaking him for another pink-haired male.

The tall male smiles widely, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m Mingi,” he turns to Yeosang, who is visibly confused, “we met briefly in a bar the other day,” 

Yeosang lets out an ‘ah’ in realisation, yet you fail to see the jealous look he points at the pink haired man as he turns back to his book. Reaching for a dessert fork placed in the middle of the table, Mingi quickly grabs it and hands it to you. Quietly thanking him, you start to cut your muffin into four pieces. You acknowledge a gaze on you, so you halt your movements and look up, noticing Yeosang and Mingi’s eyes on you. Suddenly feeling awfully small, you start to feel your heartbeat rise and your breath deepen, never really liking people watching you eat, the stares from the two make you anxious. Luckily, they seem to immediately notice your change in behaviour and start apologising.

“I’m sorry, we will look away. We were just wondering whether you were going to like the muffin,” Mingi explains, his voice stumbling over words.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I’ve always been kind of awkward when people watch me eat.” you confess, your cheeks heating up. The two males nod trying to remember this information for the future. Instantly, the two men completely look away and focus on their own things, not paying any attention to you. Their antics make you giggle slightly, and you look back down at your muffin. Slowly, you pick up a quarter and place it on Mingi’s empty plate in front of him. You then do the same for Yeosang. They both look up at you with wide eyes.

“This is your favourite, we can't take it,” Yeosang says hurriedly, trying to put the cake back on your plate. 

“Stop, stop! I want to. I want to share it with my friends!” You blurt out before you can control your mouth. The wide eyes on both Yeosang and Mingi, make you realise what you said. You have to remember that even though they seem normal they are very clearly part of a group who apparently can kill people with their stare. What the hell are you doing? Of course, they aren’t your friends, you met them both once for less than ten minutes.

“Wait, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that I didn't intend to push your boundaries, we have only met like twice I didn't just assume we are friends!” You start to ramble, scared they will take it the wrong way, trying to fix your words as quickly as possible so you don’t get on their bad sides.

Before you can say anything more, Yeosang cuts you off by taking a bite of the muffin, “it tastes amazing! Thank you,”

“Woo!” Mingi’s voice calls out, ignoring the angry glares of people around him, “come get some cake!” Watching Wooyoung jump over the counter towards the three of you, you smile to yourself, glad you haven't done something that would cause future problems. Yeosang feeds Wooyoung the cake and makes an over-exaggerated reaction, “the flavours are melting on my tongue!” he exclaims in a funny voice, making Yeosang and Mingi cringe but you just laugh at his amusing antics. You can’t help but imagine how the whole group is when they are together. 

For the remainder of the hour, you are just conversing with Wooyoung and Mingi, sometimes Yeosang if he wants to add to the conversation, but more focusing on his book, yet looking up intently whenever you speak. You are broken out of your conversation as you hear the bell of the entrance ring, notifying the entrance of new customers. Wooyoung groans and stands up from his chair next to you. It seems to be three girls from our school. You recognise one of them from your calculus class.

Then the next thing that happens confuses you more than any other thing that has happened. As Wooyoung reaches the counter to take their order, his demeanour changes almost immediately, you would've missed it if you had blinked. 

Mingi and Yeosang seem to notice your confusion but blatantly ignore it, their smiles quickly disappearing from their faces. The atmosphere turns from warm and friendly to cold and foreign.

“What do you want?” Wooyoung asks bluntly. You furrow your eyebrows, confused out of your mind as to where the sweet friendly Wooyoung disappeared to.

“You know you should be nicer to your customers, it would help with business,” one of the girls speaks out, looking smug as if she has immensely hurt the man’s feelings.

“You should probably focus on your studies rather than going to cafes, sitting with a random document open and pretending to study when we all know you are miserably failing all your classes.” Wooyoung says monotone, whilst scrolling through his phone, not even looking at the three girls who now have shocked and offended looks on their faces. Some curses are thrown before the girls end up storming out of the café without even beginning to look at the menu. As soon as the girls leave, Wooyoung returns to the table nonchalantly, acting as if nothing had happened. Opening your mouth to say something, it gets caught in your throat before you get the words out.

Are you going insane?

{feedback is always appreciated and i love hearing from all of you. remember you are loved.} 

part two is out now!!!

[httpsserene]

ꜱɪɴɢɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀ w/ ʟɴ4

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: lando’s usually well spent sunday off with his girlfriend is different this time around. you put off your everything shower and wash-day causing some edits to the usual routine. how the night ends, however, is 100% lando’s fault. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: fluff/borderline?crack(if u think im funny). one or two mentions of sex, not explicit at all. not edited to beta-read. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: lando norris x black!fem!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: singing in the shower ~ becky g

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: preface: hello! it’s late night or early morning for me, i guess, when i’m posting this. i was going to say this is my first rpf ever, but that’s a bold-faced lie ☠️but! it is my first f1 work! i hope you enjoy it! i’d love to have some f1 mutuals out here, if anyone wants <3. also requests are open, just come talk to me and ramble about anything, or any idea you have the f1 boys, i’d love to have some great anons and asks to fulfill. hope you enjoy it :)

it’s a rare sunday where you and lando are both home together. usually you two would take advantage of this and make the most out of it. you’d lay in bed late into the morning with an excessively cuddly boyfriend, cook a nice and healthy brunch together you cook, lando handles the soundtrack and vibes because he loses all coordination in the kitchen, play a co-op video game that you guys have been working your way through for a month, go out on a nice little dinner date, and have great sex before knocking out.

HOWEVER, this week you have kinda forgotten that you need to do your hair. originally you had an appointment that tuesday to get a silk press done with your usual hairstylist, but she canceled on you. once you got that “hey girly...” text you’d known there was no hope of rescheduling, for that week at least. so, you decided to do your own hair sometime later in the week, but your boyfriend was home for the first time after a triple-header, and was a terrible lovely distraction. you also had to work, unfortunately, you had to clean the flat, you had to eat, and you had to breathe—so understandably, you’ve ended up pushing your wash-day/hair-day and everything-shower to the last minute.

you apologized several times to lando during breakfast for your forgetfulness and wasting valuable “boyfriend-girlfriend time” as lando coined. but lando is lando—a sweetheart at his core—so he refused to accept your apologies with an “don’t apologize for something so minor, love,” and even offered to help you tackle the fight you end up almost losing every time…. vs. your hair. 

you kindly denied his assistance knowing damn well that if he was in the shower with you, your hair wouldn’t be done until late that night due to a different type of lando-distraction. you suggested that lando streamed while you were doing your shower and hair, and that you could still go out for dinner that evening. lando was pretty receptive to the idea, especially after he made sure that you were 100% okay with him not helping you do your hair (he usually does, you’ve got him trained pretty good; all he needs is the license at this point), and the fact that it’s been like 3 months since he last streamed.

lando posts that he’s streaming starting at noon, and after a brief make out against the sink post-dishwashing that leaves your lips swollen and head foggy, he goes to take a shower and start setting up his stream equipment. cursing lando’s smug-ass face as he walks away, you let him know that you're stepping out to the beauty supply store to get a few items before you start your little routine and that you might not see him before his stream starts. he does a 180, and rushes back to you from down the hallway to give you one more mind boggling kiss and with a smile says, “text me when you get there and when you’re back. i’ll have my phone on dnd but your messages are set to pass through it, so if you don’t want to be seen on stream today you don’t have to worry about it.” internally, you’re pretty sure your heart just imploded at the mindfulness this boy has—that your boyfriend has. somehow, it still surprises you how mature lando is for how silly he acts most of the time.

“you’re too sweet to me, lan.” you respond with a shy smile, “i probably won’t interrupt you today—i’ll let your delulu fans have custody, and deal with you!” lando throws his head back and does his usual demonic laugh, “hey! my fans are not that delusional, but i am afraid that you’re losing the custody battle!” he kisses you on the cheek, and with that you separate until later that day.

or so you thought. you knew lando’s super sweet behavior was too sus without him being his usual gremlin-self at least once.

when you get back from the beauty supply store (which should’ve been a fifteen-minute trip at most, turned into a near hour after the usual shenanigans you find yourself involved in buying things you don’t need), lando’s already started his stream. you text him letting him know you’re about to hop into the shower, and start heading to en-suite bathroom.

when you open the door, the mirror is slightly covered with remaining steam from lando’s shower, and you can see his clothes hanging half-inside the hamper. which is an improvement from being left on the floor—choose your battles, ladies. but as you move further into the bathroom, setting down your everything-shower supplies, changing into your silk robe and bonnet—you pick up on a lingering scent that should not be present.

your ninety-four fucking dollar scalp revival shampoo.

you’ve had that shampoo since you were seventeen, using it only when extremely necessary. you didn’t even pay for it, it was something your mom bought you as a pretty thoughtful and useful gift after you complained about your scalp suddenly getting super sensitive. it lasted through your senior year of grade school, all of university, and goddamn-it, two boyfriends!!! you let out a bit of an hysterical giggle (seek mental help, babe) and walk to the shower to grab the jar. the problem is: you know there was only probably one more usage left.

turning the cap off, your worst fears are confirmed...it’s…empty. with an anguished cry, you fall to your knees on the tiled floor—it’s like your childhood pet died. you gently set the jar down on the floor, and stare dazedly at the ceiling. what makes it worse is: you know that lando probably didn’t even use it properly. he most likely didn’t even let it sit for the mandatory 15 minutes that all girls do as an excuse to waste more time in the shower, he prob- he probably rinsed it out right after he massaged it in; that thought right there almost had you crying. oh, and what makes it even worse-r , what was a one-use sized amount for you was like, three for lando, so if he used it sparingly, you would’ve at least gotten to cherish it for the last time.

and with that, you rise from the floor, like some sort of re-animated monster—and with a twitching eye, start stomping to lando’s stream room. before you barge in, you remember what you're wearing: a black silk robe, matching bonnet, glasses, and your cute orange shark slides (lando bought them for you, he has a matching pair). you do the mental math of caring about this being on the internet for the rest of your life, but eventually the opportunity of terrorizing lando wins out over whatever a digital footprint is.

the door swings open, and with your shout of, “lando norris!” the pinging of his chat becomes rapid. lando looks wide-eyed at the camera and whispers, “oh fuck.” he half spins in his chair to look at you in the doorway, and is met with a flying shark slide to the neck. “oW! what did i do??” he cries out.

“you used the last of my ONE-HUNDRED DOLLAR shampoo, YOU THIEVING GREMLIN!!!” the chat notifications start cutting each other off with how fast they’re being sent.

“i didn’t use your shampoo??” he says with a bewildered look, clutching the shark slide to his chest. you seethe, “the fucking WOODEN JAR, that you didn’t even have the AUDACITY throw away, and left in the shower?!”

lando pauses, and makes an ‘a-ha’ sort of face goes, “oh, i thought that was conditioner.” you scream again and this time you don’t miss your mark. the remaining shark slide bonks him right on the forehead. “oW, again?!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE GOOD REACTION TIME??!”

“yEAH?! WELL, i didn’t expect  MY GIRLFRIEND to ASSAULT ME with the shark slides that I bought HER!!”

“yEAH?! WELL, i didn’t expect MY BOYFRIEND to waste MY hair products!!”

lando cackles but surrenders, he reaches for you in the doorway and pulls you in between his legs with his hands gripping your hips. 

he pouts, “i’m sorry. i can buy you another batch, if you’d like. if you need it for your shower right now, i can pause the stream and run and go get for you, or get it delivered?” you sigh, looking at his wide blue eyes. you let him stew for a minute, trying to find it in you to remain mad. his thumbs start petting you gently while you think, and he leans his head forward to rest on your tummy.

you sigh again, hand coming up to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and cave, “nah..don’t even worry about it. i don’t even need to use it today, i just wanted to remind you to keep your nosy-ass away from my hair products.” he nods against your abdomen, you start to pull away, and he does the same. you lean down and give him a brief peck on the cheek, and turn to exit the room. 

“oh!” you exclaim now in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, “i love you, even though you steal all my shit.”

lando giggles, cheeks turning a light pink, “i love you, princess,” the simp dripping out of every pore in his body. you point at him, “this is actually a mutually beneficial situation! now, for date night you can take me to the store to buy hair products,” lando’s smile drops, “don’t worry we can get some for you too, curly boy!” lando doesn’t even try to fight it once he sees the borderline manic grin on your face, just begging him to test you one more time. he accepts his face, “yes, love. i can’t wait for tonight, princess.”

he turns back to his stream when the door closes all the way and shakes his head. he claps his hands once, ready to get back into it, but you burst in again,

“and when i get out of that damn shower in an hour—you’re sure as hell gonna help blow dry and flat iron this shit! it’s silk press season, lando norris, we cannot be caught slacking!” you slam the door shut, and leave.

lando just blinks at the camera, mouth slightly open like that one pikachu meme. he briefly reads the chat, trying to recover, and looks at all of the chatters pick on him like he just got called to the dean’s office. some messages start to roll in about him having to end the stream.

he waits to hear the bedroom door shut, and a few more seconds for the shower to start running before he pseudo-whispers into the mic, “don’t worry, chat! she may have said an hour, but we actually have more like three. it’s her ‘everything-shower’, no-way she’ll finish that quickly. she needs an hour just to sing and dance in there before she starts actually doing anything.”

he starts to open a lobby in cod, sending invites to a few of the boys online and his phone starts vibrating on the desk. the chat starts to go wild again, recognizing its the ringtone he set for your messages. his face drops again when he opens your text thread, “oh my god, chat. she heard me, i forgot she pulls up the stream for background noise. i’m screwed.”

yninstagram • 2hrs ago

liked by landonorris, ybfsinstagram, and 123,978 others

yninstagram hairstylist did his thing for silk press season 👅

tagged landonorris

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landonorris can’t even see our faces but you can’t tell we’re both pretty

➥yninstagram pretty gyal takeover

➥user bro 😭 i can’t even call this sassy

➥user he’s just keeping it real with y’all

landonorris i’ll always take care of you like a princess

➥landonorris and one day very soon, forever treat you like a queen

➥ynistagram lan ☹️🥺

➥user proposal hint?!!!

➥user it’s a 4ever thing y’all wouldn’t understand 🥱

➥user i do 🙄 y/n comes home one day every two years and takes care of our eight children

➥user bitch—LMFAOOO

user not her gatekeeping the stylist 😤 not very girl’s girl of her

➥yninstagram he’s booked out for the foreseeable future sorry babe

➥user oh uh. that’s completely understandable. he doesn’t take walk in’s ? 😃

landonorris • 3hrs ago

liked by yninstagram, maxfewtrell, and 2,321,768 others

landonorris you attract what you fear? word, oh no a pretty gyal who lets me do her hair😱 oohhhhh how scaryyy

tagged yninstagram

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yninstagram damn 🥵 she’s pretty fit

yninstagram heard her boyfriend’s finer

➥landonorris shouldn’t listen to gossip, her bf can’t match her beauty by far

➥user now THATS SOME RIZZ i didn’t know he had it in him

carlossainzjr y/nnita keep brainwashing him i’m getting good teasing material

➥ynistagram sí señor, el gusto es mio

➥carlossainzjr aye,lando her spanish is better than yours🤣

➥landonorris my tractor is better than yours, mmm yeah that’s what i thought

➥user DAMN LANDO CHILL

➥yninstagram he will be issuing a formal apology at the paddock next sunday señor sainz

➥user i just KNOW she got him at shark slide-point

© httpsserene 2023

[hey-kae]

request for max, if possible: you live together and your male best friend stays for like 2 days and max gets real jealous, becuase you have inside jokes and so if you‘re up to it, maybe ending in smut, but you ofc don‘t have to 😚

Got it through

Pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), PDA, probably has lots of mistakes.

a/n: i hope you enjoy this and i’m sorry for how long it took for me to write it. PS: my laptop deleted the proofread version but i wanted to post it still so i will proofread it again tomorrow…

When you first broke the news to Max that an old friend of yours was gonna visit the two of you over the weekend, he was excited as he always was whenever he got to meet any of the people close to you. He went grocery shopping with you and was quite helpful in helping you prepare the guest bedroom for your visitor.

One detail that you had spared him was the fact that the person visiting was your best friend, your guy best friend, so when he offered to pick him up at the airport while you finished up cooking the food you two had started preparing, you bit back a smile and agreed, giving Max a nod and a quick kiss before rushing back to the stove when a burning smell had started originating.

With that, Max disappeared out the door, keys jiggling in his hand as he got going. Meanwhile, the smile on your face was quite prominent as you envisioned Max's reaction when he would come face to face with Marc.

There was two possible outcomes to this: hell would break loose or you would get a good laugh out of it.

A while later, your phone pinged, notifying you of a message that came through. You rushed to it, wiping your hands against the apron tied around your waist before picking up the device and reading the notification.

Max: It's a he?!

You could've told me

And just like that, the most interesting days you've had in a while began.

An hour passed before they arrived home, Max trailing behind Marc with a frown on his face, watching very closely as your friend wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug that, much to your boyfriend's distaste, you returned with just as much affection. Then, as Marc followed you to the kitchen, kindly offering to lend you a hand as you sliced a loaf of bread, Max followed in his footsteps, eyeing him up and down with his fisted hands tucked in his pockets, a funny scowl never leaving his face.

"I think you should shower, mate." He said out of the blue, taking you by utter surprise while tapping Marc's shoulders with a tight-lipped smile, "Don't misunderstand me. I don't think you're dirty or smelly." He gave him a once over, "It's just what we do after being at the airport, kind of a law around our house."

Your brows furrowed as you watched Max come up with a rule on the spot, all while Marc looked immensely taken back, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, looking intimidated by your boyfriend. You could swear you saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes.

Max followed his gaze to you and you could practically see him trying not to roll his eyes.

"Come on. I will show you to the guest room and bathroom." He practically guiding Marc away from the kitchen and you had to bite back a laugh that was begging to push past your lips.

You could hear the commotion of what seemed to be Marc being clueless to how the shower works and Max explaining that to him and it went on for several minutes before you felt Max's hands plant themselves on your hips as he turned your around to face him.

"Marc, huh?" He asked, half seriously. However, despite his apparent question, he didn't give you time to answer. His lips met yours possessively in a messy kiss. It barely took seconds until his tongue was meeting yours halfway, his teeth occasionally pulling and nibbling on your lips as he trailed his hands down to your ass, squeezing it in a surprising manner that made you let out a small moan.

He took the opportunity and used the small moment of uncertainty on your part to push you up onto the counter, his body pushing your legs apart until he was stood between them, his hands kneading the inside of your thighs and holding them apart while he continued claiming your lips aggressively.

A straggled breath got stuck in your throat when his hand cupped your pussy, one finger pushing harder than the rest, applying perfect pressure onto your clothed clit.

"Max..." You gasped, you hand latching onto his hair as you head fell back and his kisses traveled down onto your neck.

"Fucking love hearing you like this, you know?" He breathlessly said.

"I know, but you have to stop. Marc might..." He didn't care for what you were saying. His slipped his hand into your pants and panties and applied teasing pressure onto your pulsating entrance, leaving you to subconsciously grind against his fingers, your body now with a mind of its own, asking him for more.

He responded with just what you needed, his thumb played and rubbed your clit as he pushed to fingers into your warm and wet pussy, your walls immediately clenching around his digits and your body arching towards him.

"Fuck." You whined and moved your hips in accordance to his fingers' thrusts, already chasing a high, a thought in the very back of your mind convincing you that you would get to come before Marc came back.

Max was desperate to prove you wrong and leave you flustered in front of your friend, therefore he kept his movements slow until the sound of the guest bathroom's lock echoed from a distance. He pulled away from you and sucked your wetness off his fingers, as you watched him breathlessly, somewhat pissed.

"Marc, my man!" He welcomed your friend back in the room, "I already can feel it, these two days are gonna be so fun!" Max's fake cheer filled the room, his cheesy smile looking very obviously fake to you as he took a seat on a chair, one leg crossed over the other with pure confidence.

The rest of the day went on fine until dinner came around and the three of you took seats around the dining table.

"So..." Max started as he ate, "How long have you known my girlfriend?" He looked at Marc, directing the question to him.

"We were like... 14 when we met. We've been friends for a while." Marc smiled at you and you smiled back before taking a much needed sip of your drink.

"Ah, 14. Right at the beginning of teenage years and shit, right?"

"Yeah!" Marc excitedly agreed, "We had so many teen adventures together. The first time we got drunk, we were together!"

Max's brow's rose in fake pleasantry as he gave you a weird smile, "You were quite naughty kids, you two!"

"Max, what?" You masked your annoyance with a giggle and started a mental countdown until this dinner was over, but it went on for way longer that it should've as Max dragged out the conversation with a fake cheer you'd never seen him have but when Marc excused himself and retreated to him room, and after cleaning everything quickly, Max practically carried you to your room, pushing you onto the bed and immediately climbing on top of you, kissing you as he slipped his hand into your shirt, yanked down the cups of your bra and pinched a nipple, making you moan into his mouth, your mind still not comprehending the quick pace Max was setting.

Within a few minutes, your clothes were scattered on the floor and he was lodged between your thighs, his tongue working its way between your folds, toying with your clit like he wanted to do that for a while. Your back was almost always arched off the bed, your eyes screwed shut as you turned into a moaning mess, the only sounds leaving your mouth besides that being begs for more.

"Max, please. Please, more." You whined, pulling on his hair as you firmly held you down on the mattress.

"Be specific, baby." He teased, swiping his tongue slowly up and down, teasing your entrance then sucking on your clit again, leaving you breathless.

"Your fingers, please."

"What about them?" He acted clueless.

"Max, i want you to fuck me with your fingers, i want them inside me." You sternly said, having had enough of his shit.

He smirked at your demanding tone, held your legs apart and pushed in two fingers that were quick to disappear into your soaking wet pussy.

A loud moan left your mouth and you immediately got lost in the pleasure he was giving you, the feeling bubbling inside you almost euphoric that the moans just kept coming, some of them riskily high in volume.

Your eyes screwed tight-shut and your head dug back into the mattress as your hands clamped over your mouth to muffle the sounds that you had practically lost control over. Just in time, Max glanced up at you and instantly disliked what you were doing.

"Let me hear you, babe." He sternly instructed.

"Max, Marc could hear." You pushed the words past your heavy breaths and locked eyes with him in warning.

"I swear to fucking God, I'll stop all this and leave you whining and begging." He spoke with determination and you could almost see his anger bubbling, "Take your hands off your mouth."

Just like that, your hands were back clutching onto the sheets as Max's fingers continued being thrusted into your contracting pussy, giving you an orgasm that left you writhing on the bed, breathing heavily as you struggled to regain your composure since your boyfriend's tongue was immediately lapping at your clit after that first release, eager to bring you to another, more powerful one, the only thought on his mind being making this night as uncomfortable as possible for Marc.

He moved his tongue up and down your slit, then teased your entrance with it, pushing it into your pussy a little more every time until your hands dug through his hair and you forced him into a consistent movement. Max also didn't hesitate to put his fingers to use, toying and playing slowly with your clit as if he was doing it for his own enjoyment.

"Fuck, i'm gonna cum again." You whimpered and Max had to resist the urge to smirk immediately. Instead, he guided you through your orgasm, taking ultimate pleasure in the pornographic moans leaving your mouth as your body trashed beneath him.

"That's it, let go." He reassured and he moved a hand up to pinch your erect nipple. The pleasure exploded in the pit of your stomach and your back arched off the bed as you released once again.

Max shifted his gaze toward you with a hidden smirk on his face and judging only by his expression and the glimmer in his eyes, you knew this would be a long night, one that would only go up from here, and as the hours rolled, you figured out you were right.

Several other orgasms later and after various different positions Max had you in, you found yourself exhausted, face down on the bed, your hands desperately gripping onto the pillows in front of you while your moans turned to whimpers as Max pushed into you repeatedly and at a perfect pace, feeling you clench onto his cock every time he hit your sensitive spot with a steady pace until you came again and he released inside you with a loud, straggled moan before he collapsed beside you on the mattress.

"Fuck." You exhaled as you relaxed your body and turned to face your panting boyfriend, the look on your face lazy and worn out. You just laid there in your post orgasm calm, blinking slowly and catching your breath until Max pulled you closer and wrapped his arm around you, giving your forehead a kiss and combing his fingers through your tangled hair.

"What was all that about?" You chuckled and held tighter onto him.

His eyes closed as he let out a small laugh, replacing an actual answer with three simple words, "I love you."

"I love you too, Max." You pushed yourself up and kissed his lips then proceeded to sit up, "I need a shower, i'll be back in a little." You explained to him and left the bed in search of your towels and bath essentials then rushed to the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

Just as you were closing the door, Max's head poked through, a silly smile on his face.

"I'm joining, babe."

The next morning, as you woke up in Max's arm, the fact that your friend was visiting seemed to be completely off your mind but as you fiddled around the room, grabbing something to wear, it washed over you that Marc could've heard at least part of last night's shenanigans. How could he not when the aftermath, even hours later, was shaky legs?

You pulled some comfortable clothes on and jumped back into the bed, shaking Max awake.

"Max, wake up." You patted his bare back in urgency, "Max! C'mon."

"Good morning to you too." He groaned into his pillow, burying himself further under the sheets.

"Max, what if Marc heard us?" You gave in and laid on his back, asking the question right into his ear.

With his eyes still shut, he laughed at that. The fucker laughed and suddenly you understood why he insisted you don't muffle the sounds yesterday.

"Oh my fucking god, you did not!" You swatted his shoulder, "How am i supposed to look him in the eye now?" Just like that, you were back on your feet.

"I don't care. For all i know, i would have gotten it through, that he has no chance with you."  He boasted and he turned onto his back, "Plus, i was enjoying your sounds too much for you to hold them back for that guy's comfort. This is our place after all."

Your thoughts started racing and for a minute, deep down, you had to admit that the situation was amusing in some twisted way, even more to you than it was to Max but you let that go for now. It was gonna be embarrassing nonetheless to spend the day with Marc now. Deep down you still had hope you would get away with this, that he didn't hear a single thing. Maybe he was the kind of people that slept with earbuds in or something of that sort.

Clinging onto that hope, you emerged out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, needing a cup of coffee. Thankfully, the kitchen was still empty and quiet, warm with soft sunshine peaking through the window.

As soon as the coffee machine was on, you peaked your head into the hallway, checking for any traces that Marc might've woken up, but his bedroom door was still shut and no sounds were heard from him.

Taking a seat by the kitchen table, you pulled out your phone to keep yourself occupied, scrolling through your social media pages and the various posts on there until Max, now dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, joined you in the kitchen with a stupid grin on his face.

The minutes passed and before you knew it, you heard Marc's door unlock, the sound quickly being followed by the one of his footsteps in the hallway.

"Max, don't make him uncomfortable, okay?" You warned your boyfriend in a rushed whisper and received a smirk from him just as Marc walked in.

"Uhh," he stared weirdly at the difference between your expression and Max's, "hello- Good morning, i mean." Marc scratched the back of his head in discomfort.

"Good morning, mate!" Max cheerily said, leaving his chair and walking toward your friend, "You slept well?" He patted his shoulder in a bit of a too rough greeting.

You flashed him a glare immediately but it went unnoticed.

"Yeah, i slept okay." Marc took a few steps away from Max's towering figure. It really wasn't helping, the fact that Max was quite taller than him.

"Marc, do you still take your coffee black?" You left your mug on the table and got up to serve your guest.

"Black is fine." He replied shortly with a tight lipped smile so you poured him a cup and the three of you sat in the kitchen for a while.

It was safe to say that breakfast was the most uncomfortable of your life. Max's hand was firm on your thigh every time you sat and every time you got up, he found an excuse to then allowed his hands to wander either to your waist or shoulders. He was being touchier than he has ever been and Marc was obviously noticing the clinginess, his body language portraying easily how uncomfortable he felt, especially since Max wasn't sparing him of the quick smirks and challenging eyes he repeatedly shot his way.

Luckily, Marc had a few things to do around the city throughout the day so he left the apartment shortly after breakfast, leaving you and Max alone to lounge around, the laziness only interrupted for an hour when Max decided to work out and you decided yo watch him, what mildly turned you on, leading to a bit of making out on the living room couch, only to be startled by the doorbell just as it started getting heated.

"Fucking hell..." Max groaned into your mouth and sat up, reaching for a cushion to hide his boner as you fixed your shirt and got up to open the door.

Obviously, Marc was stood there, smiling with takeout containers in his hands, his smile turning awkward when he took notice of your messy hair, plump lips and Max's weird sitting position.

"I brought lunch, i guess." He treaded in carefully.

"Thank you, Marc! You really didn't have to." You thanked as you walked behind him, attempting to fix your hair with your hands.

"Oh, it's nothing!" He reassured.

Minutes later, the three of you were gathered around the dining table, eating and chatting, the latter only being done occasionally to break the silence.

"Thanks for the food, mate." Max, the first to finish eating thanked and got up, "I think I'm gonna take a nap. I slept awful last night." He excused himself and left the room.

You quickly took notice of Marc’s blushing face.

Silence reigned until it could be heard that Max was in the room with the door closed. That’s when Marc started talking again.

“Girl, i though you were getting murdered last night! He can’t be that good, right?”

“Shit, i’m so so sorry. We just got a bit carried away. I think he sees you as a competition and wants to prove a point.” You rubbed at your forehead in embarrassment.

“Wait…” Marc dragged the word on, “You didn’t tell him?”

“No! I didn’t know if you wanted me to! You’re not out to many people yet and i didn’t want to cross any boundaries.” You explained yourself and watched Marc burst out laughing.

“Oh my god.” He wheezed, “This is fucking hilarious! And i was out here thinking why the fuck he was almost groping you.” He leaned back in his chair, holding his stomach as he laughed.

“Oh, shut up!” You pouted away a smile, “You want me to tell him? That’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay! But this is funny, honestly. Wait until i leave and tell him.”

And just like that you had a deal.

Over the next two days that Marc was staying for, Max got more and more possessive but that was only because your friend was also going out of his way to act extra affectionate towards you, for example ruffling your hair as he passed by you, or putting on your favorite songs while he helped you cook.

Then, Marc would be struggling to contain his laughter when after those acts, Max would pull you onto his lap while watching movies in the evening and kiss you for a bit too long when he left for the bathroom.

The day Marc left, as he was saying his goodbyes and thank yous, he whispered quickly in your ear to let him know how Max reacts and right them and there, you almost lost it and burst out in laughter but you bit your tongue and pushed the urge away, watched the firm handshake Max was giving Marc with a glare and a smirk on his face.

When he shut the door and turned towards you, he was quick to complain again.

“Even his name is fucking similar to mine.” He huffed and started walking back to the living room.

Smiling, you trailed after him slowly.

“Max…” you started, dragging his name on.

“What’s with the tone?” He sat on the couch and gestured for you to join him.

Taking a seat by him, you spoke: “I need to tell you something.”

With an anxious look now on his face, he told you to continue.

“Marc is gay.” You giggled and watched his expression change into disbelief.

“No.” He said in surprise.

“Yes, babe.” You burst out laughing.

“That’s not funny. You should’ve told me.” He pouted.

You moved onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s kinda funny.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is.” You kissed his pouting lips, laughing a bit into the kiss.

“It kinda is. And i like it when you’re jealous.” You reassured between pecks.

“You do?” He smiled slightly.

“I do.”

“I can still be jealous, you know?”

You tried arguing that there was no excuse for him to be now but as he carried you to the bedroom, he insisted that he could still act as if he was, a suggestion you agreed on quickly, feeling him start to kiss your neck.

“It’s kinda funny though, right?” You tried again as he pushed the bedroom door open then laid you down on the bed.

“It’s not.” He kissed you deeply, biting on your lip, “and i suggest you stop saying it is so you don’t make our next activities” he smirked, “harder for yourself.”

Laughing, you nodded and relaxed into the kiss, knowing that the past few days were something you’d remember forever and that Max would start to find the humor in their happenings soon enough.

[moonjxsung]

First off, I want to say thank you for all the lovely messages I’ve gotten since my last post. I have a lot of people supporting me and I don’t take that for granted in the slightest. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

The truth is, I do not feel safe on this blog right now. From people demanding requests about people I don’t bias/I refuse to write about, to people sharing my socials without my consent when I’ve trusted just a handful of you with them, to people sending requests that are completely against my guidelines or even straight up admitting they’re not of age to be following this blog in the first place. This is a lot I have to deal with right now and I don’t feel comfortable proceeding the way I am right now. I want to detail a few reminders and set a few boundaries moving forward:

1. Please don’t send me anything flirty/suggestive in my inbox if it pertains to me. It was cute and funny at first, but some of my asks right now are really graphic and it sounds like you’re just using me as a device for sexual gratification instead of being flirty in a silly way. It’s disappointing that some of you had to ruin it for the adults on here who did it as a joke.

2. Please don’t send me asks about anyone who’s not a member of skz. Your ask will be deleted. I’m not giving you the attention you so desperately seek.

3. I will be carefully combing through and blocking blogs without an age indicator later today. I haven’t had the time to properly do so in a little while, so if you haven’t already done so, please have your age in your bio or you will be blocked.

4. Queued requests will be slowing down as we head into the new year. I need to take some time for myself to find what’s going to work for this blog moving forward. Requests aside from that are closed and will be until further notice.

5. I will no longer be giving out my socials to anybody moving forward. It’s so unnerving to get a random message saying “x showed me your pics and you’re so pretty!” From somebody I didn’t deliberately share my socials with. Please do not circulate any of my social handles. If we were mutuals elsewhere previously, I’ve already blocked you, and I’m sorry I had to do so.

6. Lastly- my inbox is closed, sending messages on anon is no longer available to you all and the anon list will be updated whenever I decide to return.

I want to stay on this blog and I want to continue fulfilling requests, but some of you are making it really hard for this to feel like a safe space for me. I’m not a robot who spits out work every week, I’m a human being with a job and feelings and a life outside of this. This is just a hobby and you guys make it hard for me to even just consume stray kids content when I associate it with this level of discomfort.

That being said, this blog is on a small hiatus until I feel okay to start posting again. I’m sorry to all my regular anons who these people ruined it for, I’m grateful for all of you and I promise I’ll be here to lend a kindly ear when I’m in a better place. Rest assured I have a lot to fulfill me outside of this blog and I’ll be taking care of myself so we can reunite in good spirits when the new year comes around.

I love you all of you who did curate this to be a safe space for the rest of us and I’m thinking of you very dearly. Take care

- ⭐️

[yasu--blog]

How Enhypen Ni-Ki would react when you are having a bad day

pairing: bf!Ni-Ki x fem!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Word count: ~approx. 0.3k [360]

Disclaimer: No images used in this post belong to me. All credits go to their respective creators. If you are the creator and wish for proper credit or removal, please contact me. Your work is valued and acknowledged.

Author's Note: hey, everyone! (ᵔ.ᵔ) hope you're doing well. thank you for reading! feel free to let me know your thoughts and suggestions; your feedback is highly appreciated! if there's anything you'd like to see in future stories, requests are open here! (^w^)

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Ni-ki's playful and energetic nature suddenly shifts when he notices you're having a bad day. 

He becomes surprisingly perceptive, picking up on your mood almost instantly. His mischief is replaced by a genuine concern for your well-being.

Firstly, he'll likely bombard you with texts and calls in an attempt to get your attention. The usual playful and teasing messages are replaced by a more caring and soothing tone.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

"Please answer, babe. I'm here for you."

He might even send a barrage of random and funny TikToks, not with the intention of annoying you but to bring a smile to your face.

"Look at this! It made me laugh; maybe it'll make you feel better?"

Once he's convinced you need some cheering up, he'll abandon any plans of annoying you and opt for a more comforting approach. 

Instead of playfully poking your cheeks, he'll opt for gentle caresses and hugs. 

His attention becomes solely focused on you, and he'll do whatever it takes to lift your spirits.

"Hey, come here. Let's just chill and forget about everything else for a while."

If he senses that you need space, he'll respect it but assure you he's just a call or text away. 

Ni-ki might also surprise you by showing up with your favorite comfort food or snack, understanding that sometimes actions speak louder than words.

"Remember, I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm all ears."

In the evening, he'll suggest doing something low-key and relaxing, like watching a movie or series you enjoy. 

He might even pull out his phone and show you some of those funny pictures he has saved of you, hoping to bring a smile to your face.

And as the day winds down, he'll snuggle with you in your bed, not for his usual comfort but to provide you with the warmth and support you need. 

Ni-ki will hold you close, offering silent comfort, and perhaps, he'll even reveal a more vulnerable side of himself, admitting that seeing you upset is something he can't stand.

"Hey, I hate seeing you like this. Let me know if there's anything I can do, okay? I'm here for you, always."

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Copyright © yasu--blog - All Rights Reserved

Note: Please refrain from reposting my work. If you appreciate it and would like to share, kindly link directly to the original post. Thank you for respecting the effort and creativity put into this content.

@heelvsted @okwonyo @heesbaby @srjlvr @ensite @rikislady @rkvriki @hehehehehehehes-world @indigoez @ensite @alaezasmystery235 @princesswonyiee @tobiosbbyghorl @keiipopped @hayoonbyn @navy-wavy17

[live-laugh-lenney]

What about George when his girl is insecure?

oh, he'd be the sweetest. you cannot tell me otherwise. he's a big old softy when it comes to her feeling insecure...

"oi, you. why are you hiding in here?"

yn tears her attention away from her phone and she directs her eyes over to the bedroom door, the quietness of the room being broken by her boyfriend's hushed voice. his head being all she could see as he peered into his bedroom, with the door being kept ajar so she could still hear the commotion of arthur's housewarming party from down the hallway, loud music and heavy chatter bouncing off the walls.

with a spare room going at george's, with arthur hill and chris taking the other two, they had offered it out to 'mister television' and it was an offer he took kindly. immediately making the flat his own from the moment he had started moving in.

"i just needed a bit of peace," yn replies softly, "everything okay?"

george nods softly and steps into the room, a bottle of peroni in his hand and, as he sat down beside her, she could smell the booze on his breath; intoxicating to her because there was something about drunk george that she couldn't get enough of. the way his eyes would darken after each beer, the way his lips got wetter and wetter, the way his hands would wander her body... it was something special and she longed for a night out where the two of them could let loose.

except, this night, she just wasn't feeling it.

she just wasn't feeling herself.

her relationship with george had been common knowledge for over a year now, his followers welcoming her in with open arms and the sweetest of messages, and she thought she'd gotten lucky in barely coming across any hate and messages that were simply posted out of pure jealousy and rage... until that morning, when she was sat at the kitchen island in george's flat, scrolling through her twitter and her instagram on her laptop and spooning porridge into her mouth, taking advantage of the quiet flat before any of the boys had woken up.

and, for some reason, the majority of her 'recommended' tweets were about her. the top comments showing on her most recent instagram post were hateful towards the way she looked. the most retweeted and the most liked comments were about how george should be with someone else because she was boring and holding him back from his career.

'anyone else feeling bored of her now? george needs someone better'

'george isn't so active on here anymore... we haven't had a video from him for months. single him was so much better'

'him and gkbarry were my endgame. i hate how yn came into his life and ruined the dream'

'she's so ugly... why her?'

she knew that reading one bad tweet would drown out the majority of the nicer comments but those comments were hard to ignore. if they were said out of spite, and if they were said to hurt her, then they were achieving exactly that... and it was silly because they were from online outlets.

"is that really the reason?"

"what?"

"that you needed some peace. baby, you've been off with me all day," george states, his bottle of beer being placed on the bedside table next to his side of the bed, freeing both hands so he could hold hers tightly, "if something is bothering you, you can tell me."

"i know," she smiles softly and he leaves the space beside her and kneels down in front of her, resting his arms on her thighs and her hands being kept in his tight hold, "i know i can."

"then talk to me."

she lifts her head from her lap and she can feel her chin wobbling as soon as she made eye contact with his eyes, concern and confusion flooding his orbs as he sees her demeanour drop from her usual self. the bubbly personality having gone missing that day. no jokes being shared, she didn't tease arthur for something he'd said, chris couldn't even make her laugh and she didn't break into song with arthur hill when she saw him.

"what's happened?"

"i just," she huffs out a heavy and shaky breath, her head rolling back and she looks up to the ceiling, "people are so mean online, george."

"i thought we spoke about not going looking for those kinds of tweets and messages," he reminds her, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles in a soothing manner, "there's no point getting sucked in to the hate and the negative tones on social media. blacklist the words."

"but i didn't go looking," she states, "they were just there. right when i opened twitter this morning. on my instagram. people were saying you could do better than me. that i'm ugly. that i'm stopping you from doing your job. it just made me feel bad. insecure, almost. like, i know you can have anyone you like. just look at you."

he tuts and shakes his head, a displeasing look on his features and he squeezes her hands in hopes she would look at him in the eye. which she did. in a manner that was slow and cautious because she knew she was being silly, dealing dramatically with the situation, yet she just couldn't help it. she had feelings and when they got too much, she just needed a relief in letting them out before she felt better.

"george-"

"you have nothing to be insecure about, alright? i love you," he says with the cheesiest grin on his lips, "i love you. always. everything that i do, it's done so that i can spoil you and take you away with me and treat you so well. not them."

"but-"

"no," he interrupts her and stops her from continuing, bringing up a finger to hold against her lips, "you're gorgeous. you're beautiful. you are my favourite person in the entire world, okay? yeah, they may have gotten me into this whole crazy dream of mine but, i get to live that dream with you."

her heart triples in size, thumping hard in her chest, and her lips curve into a smile against his finger.

"i'm so lucky to have you, baby. my number one fan, my number one tiktok commenter, my number one."

"that was cheesy," she murmurs and he rolls his eyes, standing to his feet and holding his hands out, "you know i'm going to tell them you just said that."

"don't," he warns her, pulling her to her feet and bringing her to his chest, her cheek resting against the t-shirt on his upper body and his lips pressing against her forehead, "you ready to come back out? the others have been asking for you."

she nods and looks up at him, standing on her tiptoes and placing a kiss to his lips.

"i love you too, by the way."

short and sweet for our georgey boy there. thank you for sending this in! i do love a bit of fluffy and boyfriend-y george fics - he just screams simp for his girlfriend, you can't tell me otherwise. xx

[babbygirlblues]

Eavesdropping

Natasha Romanoff x reader 😏

Summary: Natasha overhears the team teasing you about a crush. She’s heartbroken. 

Warnings: Mention of injury, guns, a bit of a make out sesh. Reader is assumed to have male crush. This writing = not my finest prose.

Note: bit of angst, fluff. 3K

Tony’s laugh is loud, it bellows over the top of everyone else's voice. It’s only quieter than his own voice which rings out clearly down the hall. Natasha is half-asleep making her way to Fury with some reports when your name catches her ear.

“Ooooh you don’t just have a crush, Y/L/N’s fully in love!” He roars out.

Love? Natasha pauses in the hallway out of sight. Her heart is suddenly pumping fast and the pulsing blood booms in her ears as she tries to listen. 

“I’m sure he’ll come around Y/N.” Wanda says kindly. 

He? At that, Natasha’s heart stops completely. She can’t hear it beating in her ears anymore. Instead a ringing sound has taken over and she feels sick, dizzy. 

“I don’t know Wanda, I’ve already dropped so many hints. Maybe I finally need to pick up my hint, that he’s just not interested.”

Natasha walks back to her office on shaky legs and pretends that there aren’t tears in her eyes. Her blurry vision obscures the guest chair in her office and she walks right into it. Her documents fall to the ground as she catches herself from tumbling over it. 

“Ow, shit!” She huffs and clutches her knee.

Clint pokes his head in the doorway. “You okay, Nat?”

She glares at him. “Fine.” She grumbles. 

“New mission just got posted. You, me, Y/N and Tony.” He says. “Should be a fun one.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

Natasha bends down to pick up her papers and Clint is surprised by her lack of response. Usually Natasha would be thrilled to get a mission with you, plus a small group means you’ll probably be paired together. Right now, she feels painfully empty about it because clearly it has meant more to her than it does to you. 

Over the next few days Natasha goes out of her way to avoid you, unable to face you while carrying her broken heart. She cancels your weekly movie night over text.

N: Can’t make the movie tonight. Busy.

N: Sorry

y/n: I’ll kill Fury if he’s overworking you again!!

y/n: That’s ok though. Are you ok? 

y/n: Can I help?

The three messages come through within seconds of each other and each one makes the lump in her throat grow. Natasha spends 10 minutes staring at your response but she doesn’t reply. It’s annoying, she thinks, the way you throw her completely off track, spiralling like a crazy person. She decides that she won’t let you do it anymore. 

Determined and head held high, she heads to the kitchen to make a sandwich before her scheduled training session. 

She gets halfway through buttering the first slice of bread before hearing you making your way down the hallway. The sound of your voice makes her melt and she considers dropping this whole facade, but then Bucky’s gravely laugh sounds out alongside yours. 

Fuck. She can’t see this, her heart can’t take it. She drops her knife and it clatters on the bench top. She flinches when the clanging sound rings out loudly through the room, and she abandons her unmade sandwich. She narrowly escapes and you almost catch her exit but all that’s left of her is sandwich ingredients spread over the bench. 

Natasha walks to the gym and regrets not taking at least the bread with her. It's a longer session tonight, some of the recruits have an upcoming graduation examination for SHIELD. Natasha straightens her back as she walks in and acts like nothing is out of the ordinary. And if she’s hungry, snapping at the recruits and hypercritical of their techniques, well that’s a matter between her and her own heart. 

~~~ 

From her window, Natasha catches you and Bucky heading out arm in arm. It’s friday night and she did cancel on you, but her insides burn and she hates how quickly she's been replaced. Maybe she had hoped you would come up looking for her. She starts to imagine Bucky and her fist headed straight for his face. She could be better to you than him! Then the image shifts, Bucky is fine and then you appear and he starts to touch you, kiss you and you let him, you like it. 

The burning starts to reach her heart and despite being freshly showered she charges back to the gym. 

Strike after strike, she hits the heavy bag gloveless. The super serum running through her veins helps to send the bag swinging, the chain holding it to the ceiling screams to be let free. She hits and hits and hits until her knuckles start to bleed. It feels good for a moment, then through her panting breaths she starts to crack. With each exhale, her chest heaves and heartbroken sobs escape from her throat. She sinks to her knees and cries on the floor until all her throat is hoarse and the tears are gone. 

She washes her face in the gym bathroom and creeps back into her room, not wishing to be caught in such a state. Part of her wishes that you would find her and drag her into your room to sleep for the night. 

When she climbs into bed she’s exhausted but her mind won’t let her rest. She feels more alone than ever. She had got in the habit of imagining your voice whispering to her 'good night'. Tonight it's silent and she can no longer convince herself that you'll be there one day to say it to her for real. The tears she thought were gone are back again and she cries herself to sleep into a soaking wet pillow. 

~~~

Little did she know, on the other side of the door, you stood wondering if you would be welcome inside. Wishing she would turn to you instead of herself alone when she’s struggling. 

You continue to check her room everyday and keep an eye out in the compound, but don’t see Natasha until your mission. When you walk in she doesn't acknowledge you at all, next to her, Clint gives you a pointed look while the meeting gets started.

Agent Hill is leading the mission briefing and the whole time your eyes skip across to table to Natasha then to Hill and back to Natasha then to Clint to Natasha to Hill to Natasha. Around in circles waiting for Natasha to look back at you. 

Natasha's eyes stay fixed on the papers in front of her and occasionally drift up to listen to Hill. She looks small in her seat, shoulders hunched and her hair falls to cover her face. For a brief moment as she turns to look at Hill, she gets caught in your gaze. You start to smile at her, the question are you okay? blazing in your eyes, but she quickly looks back down at her papers, timid like a frightened animal and a light blush covering her cheeks. You don’t get to ask it. 

On the quinjet you sit next to her in your usual seat and Natasha’s heart skips a beat. Still, she refuses to look at you, her head stays facing the cockpit so you can’t see her face. Your leg knocks into hers with the turbulence and every time she tries to ignore her desire to turn around and press herself back into you. The thought of you in love with someone else keeps her spine icy and reminds her to keep her distance.

When the two of you head off as a pair, armed and on the lookout for enemy combatants, your eyes don’t leave her and you hope she can feel your gaze burning into her. If there was any doubt in your mind she was avoiding you, it's completely gone given the way she’s acting today. You want to annoy her enough that she finally tells you what you’ve done wrong. 

Almost tripping, twice, should have been a sign to actually watch where you were going. But you keep your eyes stuck stubbornly on Natasha’s back as she leads you into the camp.

You approach a high chain fence with barbed wire at the top, Natasha drops her gun and kneels down to pry apart an opening. “Would you pay attention?” She snarls, glaring up at you before she focuses back on the gate. It’s not exactly ‘mission accomplished’, but it's a start. Since she’s broken the silence between you, you try to ask her a question. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” You whisper while taking a look around to satisfy your job as the lookout. 

“I haven’t -”

Three goons approach from the darkness in a vehicle, shooting out the window. 

You raise your gun to face them and don't move an inch from your stance in front of Natasha. 

Natasha yells your name, before you can take a shot she shoves you in the back and sends you sprawling on the ground. Natasha shoots the driver straight through the head, which sends the vehicle straight into a nearby tree.

When you turn around Natasha is leaning against the fence, pale faced and in pain.

You scramble from the ground and rush towards her.

“Natasha!” You can see her clutching her arm and blood is dripping through her hand and onto the dirt at her feet. You reach out to help her put pressure on it.

“Don’t touch me!”

You freeze in front of her, inches from her arm you slowly start to back yourself away. Shocked by her rejection, you try to focus on helping her another way. You call the team and hold back your tears as you talk to Tony over the comms.

She continues to refuse any help, even as you beg through tears all the way back to the base. The others watch on anxiously, giving you a sympathetic look.

~~~

Natasha spends 50 minutes getting stitched up before Cho’s new machine lets her go looking brand new. You spend that time showering, feeling guilty and getting increasingly more angry. Angry at yourself, angry at Natasha. 

When you hear familiar footsteps walk past your room, you storm out to follow them through Natasha’s door.

“What the hell, Natasha!” You speak with more fire than you knew yourself to have. “What did I do to you? Hm?”

“You got me shot, we could start there.” She says evenly, emotionless.

“No, I was standing there, in front of you. You pushed me!” 

“Of course I pushed you!” She screams at you. Then quieter, she sighs, “Of course, I pushed you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. 

“You know that I would rather get shot than let you take a bullet.” You protest tensely. 

She shrugs.

You groan loudly, frustrated. “You know I would rather take a bullet in my head than let you take one through your toe! So why are you so angry with me?” 

Natasha keeps her gaze locked on the ground between her feet. 

You sigh in defeat. “It’s my fault you got shot.” You say, your heart makes its way to your throat and chokes you. “I just wanted you to stop ignoring me.” 

You wait a moment, then two. But Natasha doesn’t move.

“I’m so sorry, Tash. So sorry” You say earnestly, then turn to leave. 

As you reach her door she speaks up, her voice is thick and it crackles in an accusatory tone. “You didn’t tell me that you liked anyone!” 

She finally makes eye contact with you and you can see tears mixing with the fire in her eyes. “I thought we were friends, but it turns out that Tony gets to hear about your life more than I do.”

“I tell you things I’ve never told anyone. Not even Clint.” She sniffles and her cheeks are glistening wet. She whips at her nose with the back of her hand, “You don’t even care.” She mutters miserably.

You pause and try to let her words register.

“I - what?” You say, confused,

Natasha straightens up. “So? Who is it then? Bucky? And you’re together now?” She insists impatiently.

Each question she shoots off just confuses you more but her red teary eyes start to hint at her problem. It gives you a small burst of confidence that you may not ruin your friendship with a confession, as you had feared. 

“Bucky's a friend and it’s not a guy, Natasha.” you say. “I thought that was obvious.”

Hope grips Natasha’s heart in a strangling hold. 

She clears her throat, “Oh.” 

“I thought the best spy in the world would have figured it out.” You say, a weak smile barely creeping through. You pause for a moment and feel your heart beating so hard your ribs shake with its beat.

Through an aching breath, you tell her simply, “It's you.”

You watch the realisation grow on Natasha’s face until it reaches her eyes and she takes a moment to look at you. 

"Me?" She whispers.

For a moment you shrink under her intense gaze, terrified you’ve lost her. But then Natasha rushes towards you and sends you stumbling backwards as she crashes into you. Instinctively you wrap your arms around her and hold her close. 

Pieces of Natasha's heart slowly slot back into place and she takes in a deep breath of your scent. The coconut shampoo she hates and the wonderful smell of your skin, god she's missed it.

Her hands grip tightly at your hips and she leans in desperately towards your lips. You take a moment to look into her eyes, red and puffy, they're so full of love you want to cry. Then gorgeous red lips capture your attention. You can’t resist any longer and you press your lips softly into hers. 

Her lips are full and soft, heavenly. She runs her tongue over your bottom lip and then she’s slipping in to taste your mouth. She whimpers into your mouth, and you soothe her by tenderly stroking her cheek.

Her kisses become harsher and her force pushes you backwards towards her bed where she presses you down into the mattress.

Red hair falls to frame her face as leans down to kiss you and strong legs climb up to frame your hips. There’s electrifying tension in the space she leaves between you. 

You feel dizzy with the suffocating need to have her skin, smooth and safe against you. Natasha laughs lightly as you roll her onto her back. Your hips remain locked between her legs and she reaches around to the small of your back to encourage you to press down into her harder. Your pelvis rocks down into her instinctively and steals your breath away.

You reach for her hands to press them above her head, dragging your lips over her jaw and down to kiss her neck. The brief shift makes you remember why you’re there.

“Wait Natasha, your arm!” You sit up and try to inspect her upper arm where you saw blood before. Nothing is there. 

“It’s all fixed.” Natasha rasps out. She lies back down and tries to pull you down by the front of your shirt. “It’s ok.” She whispers. 

“It’s not ok! You got hurt - because of me.” you exclaim. You refuse to move down to meet her, so she sits up to face you. “You could have been killed.” you can barely whisper it.

“I wasn’t. I’m fine, Y/N.” she caresses your face gently and you lean into her touch. She moves lower to run her thumb over your swollen lips. You press your forehead to hers. “I always dreamed that I would die protecting you.” She whispers quietly, like a secret.

Your heart soars painfully. “Please, promise me you won’t ever do that.” You reply. You remove her hand from your face and press it into your chest above your heart. “That would kill me.” 

You wrap your fingers around her wrist and bring her hand up to your lips. You press a heated kiss to the centre of her palm. Slowly, you make your way over her wrist, pressing delicate kisses to the skin of her inner arm. You can feel her shiver as you kiss the sensitive skin in the crease of her elbow. Then, you move up to the side of her arm where she got shot and gently press your lips to the new skin, pausing there for a moment. 

Her words continue to resonate through you and you know you’d do the same for her in a heartbeat. It rings disaster in your ears. Tear after tear falls down your cheeks and wets her skin under your mouth.

Natasha gently pulls you up into her arms. You let her manoeuvre the both of you towards the pillows and under her sheets. You lie down to face her and open your arms to gesture for her to cuddle closer. She wraps an arm securely around your waist and nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. 

Natasha thinks about the last three nights she spent crying herself to sleep and sinks deeper into the warmth of your arms

"Good night." She whispers, soft and shy, her lips muffled against your skin.

"Good night, Tasha." You whisper back to her sweetly. The brightest inferno glows under her skin and she almost giggles.

The soft smile beaming on her face lingers even after her eyes close and she's fast asleep.

You whisper another quiet apology, your lips brushing against her hairline and you press a kiss to her forehead. You sleep restlessly, your mind running the same line in a loop, die protecting you, die protecting you, die, die die… 

[tideswept]

So I'm in trouble but... also inching my way out of it. Precariously.

Yet I still need help.

I've covered the last few months in two other posts, so forgive me for a brief summary before an update.

In September, my mother killed herself when I told her I wanted to move out. She had B(borderline)PD and it'd gotten bad. I couldn't take it anymore.

Unfortunately, I'd quit my job to take care of her after a series of hospital stays and to also secretly do her job for her, as it paid better, and we could survive on it as long as I kept my head down and just did the work.

So overnight I lost my mother and my job. I had no savings because her self-destructive behavior was stealing to buy herself things, and by then she'd stolen my identity and tanked my credit.

With the help of a friend, distant family members, and you guys, I managed to stay afloat a little longer searching for a way to survive. There's no social help available where I live; my last hope was to plead with my aunt to allow me to sleep in her garage while I worked and saved money, paying her what I could in rent, and she told me I wasn't a part of her family.

By then I hadn't been able to pay November's rent, but the landlords kindly did not evict me until this week. With the aid of a friend I've moved temporarily into a motel, and my luck is turning around because I've found a room to rent at a decent price! There's finally a way forward instead of the constant wall I kept slamming into.

I'm terrified. But for once I'm also hopeful. It's a new city, strangers I don't know, and I intend to find a job immediately, but I need a little help. I'm afraid to lose my chance if just one thing doesn't go right. Any money I receive will be spent to pay my phone bill (so that I can apply to jobs), bus fare (more job applying) and a little food. (energy for even MORE job applying)

All I can offer in return for any generosity is my fic writing services, and I will gladly do so. (Okay, well, I could also alpha/beta for you and make moodboards but honestly, I'm not sure anyone wants that. Unless... anyone want a tarot reading? no? okay, I'll shush.)

I'm uh, not ashamed to admit that I'm starting to get overwhelmed and have likely rambled on enough, so I'll just drop the links and say thank you for reading this far. Truly--thank you for listening. It means a lot to me.

GoFundMe

Ko-Fi

CashApp: $dkbauer

(Ah, one final thing; If you donated before this and want a fic, please poke me! You can remain anonymous if you like, ko-fi will let you message me and my anon asks are also open, just pop in your receipt with your request so I know which donation was yours.)

[undercoverpena]

ii. coffee + fruit

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter two of nowhere to run

Summary: Determined to do it better this time, Javier Peña returns to Bogotá to take down the Cali Cartel. With a new promotion, office and team, what he doesn’t expect is the pretty thing outside his office—or why they’re not allowed in the field. chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers, no use of y/n, mild use of a codename for story purposes. wordcount: 5.5k an: as always, a huge thank you to @guyfieriii who talks me down from panic, and @yeyinde who listens to my insane plans

He finds that spot on his forehead, thumb and index digging—massaging into his skin and bone. The edges of himself, frayed, stressed—teased to the point they could almost pull away and crumble as he walked past your desk.

It’s empty. The half-drunk coffee still there. 

You’ve not been there for a while. Not since earlier, when he should have looked away at the sound of raised voices, instead of honing in on them. Something wrapping around his insides—

“You got a minute, sir?”

He listens, even if he doesn’t. He hears the important parts: Miami, Cornerstone. He also hears the noticeable slap of the file on the rest of his files—the ones with your post-its and notes all over. 

“What’s this?”

“A shitty diagram.”

He stares—feels himself glaring. Ridding it, hopefully before the agent can even notice it. A reaction he blames on a headache, even if he knows it has more to do with earlier. 

“What’s your name?”

“Fiestl.” 

Javi chews it. Staring up and down at him. 

“Chris Feistl.”

He smirks at the rest of his speech. That same gnawing feeling rising inside of him, half-hoping the man in front of him isn’t the reason you’ve been hiding, but heavily suspecting he is. 

Javi likes shooting him down, he realises, when he watches that same kicked-puppy face stretch across the man’s features—the same way it did when you muttered whatever you did under your breath. 

It’s only as he crosses the office, hoping to rid him—when his eyes land on you through the blinds. Thankful you’ve made another appearance, looking somewhat more you than you had done earlier. Coffee firmly in hand—chewing the inside of his cheek. Relaxing him—having not needed to go find you. 

“Nice office by the way.”

He snorts. Realising quickly how fucked he was. “Thanks.” 

Yellowing light woke you as it bled through the open window.

The scent of him still clings to your skin. All Marlboro smoke and ambery wood, blended with the sultry scent of whiskey and something you suspect is just him. 

It was easier to leave. 

To watch his eyelids grow heavy, sliding from under his arm and dressing in the silence of his government-issued apartment. You’d thought about staying, about the morning when he’d wake and likely feast on you for breakfast. How good it would feel, how good he is. 

You’re not young and impressionable. Good sex is good sex, not an invitation to begin manifesting and dreaming about a life together taking down narcos. 

So, it was easier to leave. 

To burst the fantasy before it could begin growing, amassing into something which would involve hurt feelings from either side. 

You do this a lot?  Fuck my boss? No. Have you seen Stechner? I just m— Don’t lie to me, Peña. It’s beneath you. 

You weren't quite sure what to classify last night as, but guilt began to peck at you, all the same. It made you consider things. Turning them over in your mind under the low pressure of the shower…

Maybe you should have left a note. Something. Anything. 

Although, when it boils down, you’re not entirely sure what the appropriate messaging even would be. Never having needed to do it before. Maybe it never happened to him either. 

He struck you as a man who did the leaving over being the one who was left. It crossed your mind, only then, that maybe he wouldn’t take kindly to being greeted by cold, undisturbed nothing. 

From what you knew—outside of the rumours and the intern—he didn’t tend to fuck his colleagues. That thin line is the one he drew. Javier Peña didn’t like to shit where he eats. The thin line, though, has been erased, kicked away until dust covers it. 

Your soap slowly rids you of his scent, his touch—leaving only the blossoming-welcome bruises and the soreness. The only thought which began to appease you as you turned the water off, is that judging him or not, he didn’t appear to have a reputation that screamed he’d ever left a note himself. That and the fact you owed him nothing except professionalism. 

You’re late. 

Not late for the start of your shift, but when you’re usually in. People have come to expect you around sunrise. Not today. Today, you’re greeted by some of the agents beneath you, their smirks being the evidence of your unexpected time in. The gossip already likely fluttering around, half-expecting the whispers to chirp before you’ve even removed your coat. 

If you were a man, it wouldn’t happen. 

They wouldn’t bat an eyelid if Peña walked in draped in two women. It was a thing reserved for women. The shame-guilt. The whispers behind your back, trying to act as though by doing it in a low voice, they’re doing you a favour by keeping back what a whore they think you are. 

Because usually, you’re the one to turn the fluorescent lights on. The only one making noise in the large expanse. But, there’s already chatter when you throw your bag in your drawer. Your phone is already ringing before you’ve even made a coffee.

It is distracting. It smothers wandering thoughts and any chance at regret. It’s only when you’re making your final note for him, all set to sit down ready to consume the coffee when you see him. 

And time slows. 

Everything around the two of you almost stops as you let yourself take him in. Meet those same eyes which had almost cut your clothes off last night. He doesn’t look embarrassed or regretful, but sorrowful. No spark in his eyes, no twitch of his lips—two things you’d been washed in by the time you reached his place last night. 

You should tear your eyes away as he nods at someone and heads in your direction. You should stand up, hand him the notes and a coffee—unsure why you’ve even stopped to stare. 

Your legs have other ideas, already carrying you to him. Watching him trace his eyes up and down you like he didn’t have his fill of that last night. Acting normal, no smirk, no blush of his cheeks, as though he didn’t have his tongue, cock and fingers inside of you hours ago.  

You should be happy. Grateful. 

It isn’t as though you like mess or complications. It had churned inside of you on the drive in, hands wrapping around the steering wheel, unsure if you’d made things difficult. If you’d blurred the complicated lines before they’d even really been laid out. 

You take his wrist, lifting it as you coax his hand around the mug, looping his fingers around the warmth. His touch sends sparks up your skin, along your fingers, and forearms all the way to your chest. Ones you have to ignore. Ones you pretend aren’t there. 

Because he’s like fire. He burns, but you welcome it. 

Like you did last night, over and over again. 

Your throat goes dry, watching as he brings the mug to his lip. Your mug. The one you hadn’t drank from and craved more than anything. 

“Morning.” 

It comes out normal, but it’s forced. Trying to banish any sound of indifference, hand grasping at some papers before you turn to walk alongside him, matching his strides. 

“You have a meeting in ten—which I’d do your top button-up for. There’s also a file on your desk, less important than the meeting, but more important than the phone calls you need to make.”

He looks good. 

Something you had noticed before sleeping with him—not able to help but acknowledge it, even if you hated it. But now, having seen him more undone, more walls torn back, it was hard not to look for longer. Linger. Let your eyes trail down from his eyes to the slope of his nose, to his lips— 

“Fuck. This is good—“

His eyes widened, taking another sip of the drink. 

Your hand tugs on his elbow to stop him, keeping close to him as you smile. “Look. Tell anyone, and I’ll cut you.” 

“About last ni—“

“No.”

It comes out like a squeak. Something which quickly warms your cheeks and ears, tugging your shirt into place, swallowing back further denial. 

“The coffee,” you continue, straightening your spine. “I don’t—I don’t care if you climbed a desk and told everyone I fucked you senseless last night. I do care if everyone knows I have a stash of good coffee.” Your head tilts behind you. “They’re feral—fucking… animals. For good casework and for good coffee.” 

For a second, he stares. Just stares. His mouth opened, before closing. 

He’s hard to read. Even when you know so much about him. Some things are easier, like the things he wears. The shame—the need to do right. Even if he blurs the lines, even if he gets lost along the way of finishing the task at hand. Other parts of him are harder, hidden behind thick walls of concrete you don’t expect to ever see past. 

And yet, it makes something bubble in you. Something you can’t place, but really hate.  

His hand twitches though. Not the one around the coffee, the one limply at his side. The only sign that your nonchalance is bothering him, his eyes attempting to claw through you the same you’re doing to him. 

“Drink up,” you say, licking your lips. “You’re gonna need it.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s with the Ambassador.”

“Shit.” 

Draining the mug, you take it from him, handing him the file in your hand. “Try to smile, Peña—you make it through this, I may be able to give you a bigger reason too.” 

“That so?” 

You smirk, and he has to know how warm your cheeks are. Must be able to feel the heat from them through the air as you avoid his eyes, hating the impact his words have. Two simple fucking words. 

It’s dangerous, the game you’re playing. 

Red lights flash, a warning tone sounding in some dull recess in your mind. 

“Yes,” you smile, with equal wickedness. “I’ll take some of your paperwork from you.” 

He rolls his jaw, smirking in return. 

“What?” you ask innocently. “Something else on your mind?” 

You wondered if he hoped. 

If he’d woken up and stretched his hand out to find you, to pull you close. From the small window into his life, he was insatiable. Good. Knowing exactly where too… 

Shaking your head, you smile. “Just so you know, I’m also good at things that don't involve me being naked.”

He doesn’t say anything. 

“Plus, I already saved your ass. I delivered the news and not Stoddard.” You stop at your desk, putting a distance between the two of you. “Well, I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He nods. 

Just nods. 

You’re a coward. 

Even if you’re not ashamed, even if you had been happy you went home with him. You still hid. Flipping between your desk and the file room.

The fact both Dan and Peña, plus Stoddard, had fucked with your filing had proven a blessing in disguise. Your hands itching to put it right all day, thankful whatever the meeting this morning was, it kept Peña behind glass. 

“Hey.”

You know the voice before your eyes land on the face. It's ingrained into you. A voice you used to love, but now makes your blood boil. Quickly, you try to rid the heat from your cheeks, lifting up to watch him—the former lover: the romance that ended in disaster. 

He wipes his mouth before he leans down on your desk. 

Even now, all you can think is Chris Feistl still has a cute smile. That and the fact you like the way strands of his hair fall over his face—just like they are now. A slight urge, the slightest need, to brush them from his face rose inside of you. 

In the same way, you had done before things got complicated, before when things were wonderful and lovely—before they went up in flames. 

You always wondered how hard it would be to get over a breakup when you were confronted with it every day. Having always been thankful your previous relationships ended as you were required to move, whether across the states or to a different country.  

It’s hard to ignore what you have learnt quickly. Difficult to rid everything, such as the mug on your desk that was a gift before anyone knew you were both a thing. Knowing that when you walk past him, he’s seen the lingerie you’re wearing under the clothes. That he’s the one you had originally bought them for—the one who peeled them off your skin while dinner bubbled messily in either one of your two’s kitchens. 

It hadn’t been him who ruined them the other night. 

That had been the man to the side of her—the one surrounded by glass and wooden blinds. The one you’re hiding from. 

“So… you good?”

Smirking, you put your pen down. “You walked over here to ask me if I’m good?”

He stares for a second, reconsidering his words. “You didn’t answer my call… last night.” 

You bite your tongue, leaning forward. Remembering. 

Recalling how you’d cancelled it at the bar, and again before you left the bar…with Peña. How his lips had ghosted over your neck as you dug your hand in your bag to silence it. Ignore it. His teeth grazing your—

“I know that you’re strong, but I also—“

“I’m fine, Chris.”

His silence is damning. The air is tightening as you stare, hoping he doesn’t push, silently hoping he doesn’t. The two of you having spared mess and more pain than needed. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know. I know that you’re not doing as well as you… like to let people believe.”

It’s instant, the way a cold chill spreads down your spine. Your lips straighten before the words meet your ears, knowing how this is all going to go. 

“I know you’re not eating, so I can only assume you’re not sleeping.”

Your body knows before your brain does—the hold on your chest tightening, pain spreading like ink across your heart, poisoning and squeezing.   

Him calling it out—the panic, the memories, the fucking nightmares. 

“Some of the guys said you were in late—“

“Will you keep your voice down?”

Your eyes cast to the side, finding narrowed brown eyes staring at you through the blinds. Ones which you hold for a second too long. 

Ones who seem to be assessing the situation quicker than he should.

Chris leans closer, likely so the whole office doesn’t begin its idle gossip again. It does that. 

Breathes and spreads ideals and rumours quicker than a virus spreads in a hospital. You can feel the eyes through the blinds now, the ones watching—studying, trying to understand the office dynamics and who knows who. 

“I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, no matter what’s happened—happening—between us—“

Standing, you place your palms flat on the desk. “—Stop. For the love of my sanity, please can you just stop, Fiestl.”—“

“I know you chose to end things but I still want—“

You shove him. Lightly. Two fingers at most, not even likely to bruise—but enough to make his words shrivel in his throat. Your eyes, burning holes into him.

“You know what, I was with someone,” you say, snappier, harsher than your previous words. “Last night.”

They hit the air like bullets. Piercing into him and the air. It washes over you both—your confirmation, your acknowledgement. They shatter the space between the two of you like glass. Watching as his eyes acknowledge your words, temporarily frozen before his jaw tightens and his teeth grit. 

You’d sympathise if he hadn’t pushed. It is the sole reason why you don't shift your expression, keeping it firm, and rigid. Feeling the pair of eyes in your back, the ones behind the open door—having likely heard every bit of his speech. 

“I told you to stop.”

He nods, reeling back, standing—running his hand through his impossibly thick hair as he forces a laugh. All half-hearted, weak, as though the air had been punched from his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.” 

“I’m not your problem.” 

He frowns, tilting his head. “You’ll always be my problem. I—“

“Please, s-stop.” 

It’s less this time. It cracks out of you. Voice shaky, more tinged with threatening-to-spill tears. 

His words fade, vanishing—disappearing into the air without truly being spilt. So much more on the cusp of his tongue, but you stare until he swallows them. Watching him instead nod. 

It pricks at your heart. Hating how it makes the part of you which had already healed, throb. It hadn’t been easy, as much as you pretended it was. But, it was better to pretend than to acknowledge how car-crash-like their argument had been. How it began as one thing and ended as something neither of you both could come back from. 

Everything good having wilted when you’d gone to Cali, coming back to crumbling roots and sharp-edged memories. It had been wrong beforehand, tainted. But, it had worsened, leaving behind nothing but death and the ghosts of what once was. 

“I have work to do, so if you’re done...” 

“No, I’m d—“

“Good.”

You straighten fully,  moving past him as you head to the bathroom. Feet moving you around bodies and desks. Waiting for the inevitable.

Thankfully, it slams into you when you’re on the other side of the door.

The thread he’d unpicked with his words. I know that you’re not doing as well as you’d like people to believe. Feeling your throat tighten at the memories, how you bristled at the feel of the door on your spine. 

Seeing them—the cold, dark eyes. How even though you know they aren’t here, they’re staring at you as stones cut into your knees and weeds tried to wrap around your ankles. The sight—the blood. The crimson staining your hands, knees and soul as helplessness stole your facade, confidence and belief. 

It makes you weak. 

Makes you crumble from the inside, out all over again. 

Shifting to dust, turning to something opposite to the training you’d taken to be here and more of a shadow of someone you once knew. Something you know they’re waiting to see—the higher-ups. The ones who are desperate to be proved right. 

Then, when it’s raging through you, ripping apart the carefully placed threads and walls that keep you up straight, you’re flooded with grief. 

The nightmares that have bled into the moments you’re awake. Its grip on your chest tightens, restricting—hand grasping at the cold bathroom counter as you will yourself to snap out of it. Shakily turning on the tap until cold water slams into your skin—

It lessens. 

Looking up, meeting the mirror, seeing only thick tears that have carved into your cheeks. Sweat pebbling at your brow, your mouth taking in copious breaths as you slowly find you can stand straight. 

Shame vibrates in your bones. That and tiredness.

You've spent the better part of your day darting through an array of emotions—all of which had given you whiplash—and made it hard to smile.  

You had taken a while to resurface from the file room, awkwardly holding a mug up to Peña through the blinds once again—noting how the office had emptied.

It’s nice, the silence. The lack of ringing from phones, fingers on keyboards and low-murmured chatter. It’s even nicer seeing the glow the setting sun casts over the place, casting shadows. Not needing to glance at the clock, you know the hour is late. Is time to be going home, even if you’ve stayed far later than this on so many occasions. 

You have to show him you’re okay, even if you’re not. 

Even if you’re barely held together by the threads you usually are. 

The aftershocks of your panic ebbing through you. Small little wobbles and pricks to your eyes, followed by a slight gasp as breath is lost. Worsened by your anger when the news hit the office. 

That once again a mission went sideways. That two more agents were going home—and that someone they put in a position to lose something, happened again. Under it all, like the low hum of a song from a distant radio, you thought of Cali.

You’re used to them, the thoughts, the panic—having slowly become the norm. Yet, they’re rarely here, rarely ever embedding into your day—they normally wait until you’re in your car or at home. Appearing like ghosts when you’re alone, when there’s very little to distract you. 

On another day, you’d likely have handled it better. But, Chris had done a number on you. He had bruised you, in some ways. Knocked you off your confidence and thinly-veiled pedestal you climbed up onto to appear like the same agent the rest of the office knew before you came back.

You don’t have to pretend with him, though. It’s why you stayed in the bar longer than you should have. Why you didn’t bat his palm away from your knee and why you traced little shapes with your nail against the back of his hand. 

Peña didn’t know you. Likely didn’t care too—not that you want him to. 

Feelings are messy. A tangle of things that would worsen as and when you were sent home. If you grew too attached it would hurt when the inevitable crashed down; if you remained distant, it would lead to awkwardness and more office dramatics. Neither of which you wanted—having already ticked both of those of yourself not that long ago. 

Your eyes catch Van Ness and Chris’s new desks, the ones they’d moved into before the seats of the other agents were even cold. 

It pecked at you, the day. It wove under your carefully constructed armour and threatened to showcase who you were—a fragile, half-broken soul haunting a place you used to run. The thought niggled, swirling, capturing other feelings in its wake until it grew larger and larger. 

Blinking, you stared as the pot brewed. Finding it all of a sudden hard not to acknowledge that the first time you’d stopped thinking—outside of drinking and the few hours of sleep you were given—was when you were with him. That he had fully engrossed you, not allowing you to sink off to any recess or corner to drag up old demons and shadows to ruin what it was. 

You place the coffee down in the centre of his desk. Taking a while to drag your eyes from the steam spiralling up into the air, watching it softly before it’s lost to the air. Each silvery twirl captures your attention until all you see is caramel chestnut. 

Then you see the rest of him, trying not to let your mouth drop open at the sight of him. 

He’s removed his jacket since you’d asked him if he wants a coffee, his hair far more tousled—likely from pulling at it, something you’ve seen him do all too often. The cause for the dryness in your throat is the sight of his top two buttons undone. His tie loosely hanging, his finger probably having stuck in the knot and yanked it down. 

It almost cracks you. Makes you almost forget how to breathe, stomach tightening—wanting to spread through you as it reminds you of last night—his phantom touch spreading across your hips. Even if he’s safely behind his desk, not touching, breath not dancing across your jaw. 

“Everyone else has gone.”

His hand gestures to the chair opposite his desk, one you know you shouldn’t sit in—should head back to the file room or go home before the stars come out. But you sit, slowly too.

It would be a lie to say you hadn’t noticed the same thing countless women did. The angle of his jaw, the way his eyes hold yours, as if you’re the only source of light in a room. You’d just hoped to be better than the other women, able to snap out of it—keep a respectable distance. 

“They do that. Go home at the end of their shift.” 

He snorts. “Not you, though.” 

“Not you either, Sir.” 

Watching it land, that three-letter word is like a shot of caffeine to the veins. It makes his jaw shift, his eyes try to inconspicuously drag along your frame. 

“Look, it’s likely not any of my business, but…” you look at him, watching him play with the ends of his tie as he meets your eyes. “I didn’t ask earlier, you alright? Looked heavy—the conversation with—” 

The lump appears before you can stop it. Before you can think about willing it away, it shifts at the last second. 

“Fiestl. Which, I suspect you already know his name,” you smirk, crossing your leg over the other, “But yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

The most honest you could be. Your half-smile meeting his, hoping it soothes him—settles him. 

“You two date, or something?” 

It surprises you, somehow. Prickles at you, makes you sharpen and straighten your spine. “You jealous or something?” 

“No.” 

He says it too quickly. Only realising his mistake a second too late, the same regret you felt at instantly snapping at him. 

Clearing your throat. “Sorry… I just, we did, yes.” 

He nods, and the way he leans his head back in acknowledgement makes you notice how drained he looks, how withdrawn—how sunken. 

“This your coffee or the offices?”

Twitching your lips, you relax again. “Try it and find out.”

His eyes narrow, his lips shifting across the front of his teeth as he offers that slow smirk-smile he does. The one he did so much last night, once whiskey had loosened him and humour had let the weight from his shoulders lessen. 

“How’s your bad day?” 

He half-smiles with a snort, hand swiping over his jaw as he sighs. 

Because you know how hellish it has been. You’d seen it, heard it—watched it ripple across the office. 

Clearing your throat, leaning back against the chair, you tilt your head. “No one’s going to blame you for Duffy and Lopez. For one, Duffy is real a dick.” 

Folding his arms, he mirrors you. Leaning back, not even moving for the coffee. “You know the right words to make me smile, cariño.”

Smiling, you look down. Needing too. It almost catches you off guard: cariño. Makes your tongue heavy—forcing your thighs to push together as your mouth drops open. Dawning on you that this must be how ‘sir’ makes him feel. 

Then, like rain on a beautiful warm day, you begin remembering why you left this morning—why you’d told yourself it was the best thing, and yet here you were undoing it. 

The air puckers, ruffles and wrinkles as no words are spoken. The steam from the coffee continues to swirl, performing a dance neither of you are paying attention to. His eyes are on you, and you’re firmly on the spot on the floor, warming under his gaze—wishing you knew what he was thinking, and yet wishing you didn’t know him at all. 

“I left because whatever… last night was, it wasn't serious.” 

Flicking your eyes up, you expect contempt. Instead, you see understanding.

You see softness, shame—but you suspect not because of the act itself, but rather because he understood. 

“Because you know so much about me or?” 

Your watch as his forehead creases, waiting expectedly for your response. His fingers run across his jaw as he stares, more in waiting than anything else. Your eyes staring at his index finger, remembering—recalling. 

“Because I’m really not that person, Peña. I know people say that, and they usually don’t mean it. But, I didn’t expect coffee and a piece of fruit this morning. And I really couldn’t stand the idea of having an awkward morning conversation when we’re both naked and wondering if the other regrets it. Which I don’t, by the way—regret it.” 

He slowly takes the coffee, fingers wrapping around the white porcelain, a stark contrast in size as he keeps his eyes on you. Assessing you, trying to peel back layers and uncover things. 

You’re smarter. You’ve had to be. 

Already hard enough fighting amongst other agents for a shot, never mind the fact that so very few of you make it to Bogotá—least of all women. 

Throwing up walls, you quickly hide the complexities that make you nervous, the things which keep your adrenaline heightened and your nightmares prickling close to daydreams.  

“I wouldn’t.” 

“What?” 

“Keep looking for a secondary reason for why I left you in bed,” you say with a knowing smirk. “There isn’t one. I just prefer my own bed.”

Smirking, he brings the cup to his lips, pausing as he stares over it and through the swirls. “Guess next time it’s your place then.”

You have to laugh, to hide the heat in your cheeks. “Cute, Peña. Real cute.” 

He takes another sip, a larger one—rich flavours of herbs, nuts and chocolate flooding his tongue. “Fuck, tastes good.”

It’s a bad idea.

That’s what you think. What instantly follows behind the other thought, the one on the tip of your tongue, the one you should hold back, but—

“Odd, not the first time I’ve heard that in the last 24 hours.”

Whatever the air was doing previously, it stops—and something far worse replaces it. Something heavier, thicker. Something which makes your body thrum and his eyes momentarily widen, before darkening—almost obsidian in shade and so shiny, you almost slip on them into his soul. 

He places the cup down. The ridge of its base echoing all around the room in the silence—it like a note, spreading through your ears and leaping from bone to bone. 

You watch as he drags his thumb across his bottom lip, shifting in his seat, leaning more over the desk. Not taking his eyes from you for one second, as though by blinking you’ll vanish. You should. You should excuse yourself before you give in, before you snap and bury yourself in him until every other emotion is muted and easy to stuff away. 

Dragging his tongue across his lip, the corner of your lips twitching at the sight. 

Folding your arms, you smile. “What you thinking?” 

“That I shouldn’t do this.” 

It’s natural, how you slowly sigh. “I’m very aware, I’m not even informing you of anything.” 

Glancing at him, finding the light catching his dark eyes, how they look like pools you, all of a sudden, want to slide into them—drown in them. 

“Also thinkin’ how we shouldn’t repeat it.” 

Swallowing, you lift your chin. “No. We probably shouldn’t.” 

Standing, he drinks you in, slowly moving around his desk. Each step, he doesn’t take your eyes off you. The gap is shrinking and shrinking. 

It’s not until he’s in front of you, leaning on his desk, foot nudging against yours. “Is it bad that I want to...” 

“That good, was I?” 

His fingers brush over his chin, and you feel it—anticipate that in a second you’re going to snap and be pressed against him. You are almost holding your breath. Needing it too. The way he has already silenced things, stilled the nerves in your body. Afraid of showing that you want nothing more than it.

“Yeah, cariño. You are.” 

You shift in the chair, staring up at him, counting—not sure at what number you’ll either close the gap or leave. Would it be ten, twenty, fifty—

You don’t get past five. The ring of his phone cuts through the air. 

“Shit.” His eyes slide from yours, staring at it. “Do not move.” 

You smirk, listening to him answer before you slowly stand. Your legs feel like lead, trying not to let his frown halt your movements—because you shouldn’t do this. Listening, hearing him say his name, short, sharp and breathless.  

His one-sided conversation blended with the ghostly whispers of gossip likely to come. The ones which worsened when you came back from Cali—the ones which follow you.

You're at the door as you hear him, his voice a little louder—a little more stressed. 

“Wait—I’ll call you back. Hey.”

Spinning on your heels, you meet his odd expression face on, slowly walking backwards in pursuit of your desk—your coat, bag and keys—until his fingers lightly touch your forearm. Thumb around your elbow, soft, gentle—almost surprisingly so. 

“You’re right, we shouldn’t.” 

“Words rarely ever said to me.” 

Smirking, you almost roll your eyes. Almost. “Take it as a sign, then. Your phone call saved you from another thing to get in trouble over.”

His mouth clamps shut, a thin line appearing between his brows. The same one you saw when he was sleeping, and you dressed in silence. The one which you’d wanted to run your finger over and thin out, take it with you, leave it in some distant part of the city for someone else to wear instead. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir?”

“Less of the sirs.” 

You pause, half tempted to just close the gap and be done fighting him. “Why? Worried about something.” 

His lips curl. “I’m tryin’ to be decent.” 

“How’s that going?”

“Fuckin’ poorly.” 

You smile. “Goodnight, Peña.”

He doesn’t nod, not until his fingers remove themselves, one by one, sliding from your forearm. 

Wanting to stay. Wanting nothing more than to press your lips to his.

“You owe me a coffee.”

He doesn’t smirk, but his lips try to. “And a piece of fruit?”

Shaking your head, you grab your coat, and then your bag. “Night, sir.” 

“Night, cariño.”  

chapter three ->

[emotionalcadaver]

Main Masterlist

Welcome! My name is Lauren. I am 23, use she/her pronouns, and am a fanfiction writer as well as a self-admitted film snob. I write primarily OC x Canon fanfiction, mostly for Cillian Murphy characters.

18+ ONLY. Minors do not interact.

I cross-post all of my fics onto Archive of Our Own.

Most of my work deals with mature themes, so please take care to read the corresponding warnings listed in the notes of each individual fic. Your content consumption is your own responsibility. If I ever fail to include a specific warning in the notes, please feel free to kindly leave me an ask or message letting me know.

I have tag lists for all of my fics. If you would like to be added to any of these lists, please send me a comment, ask, or message, and specify which fics you would like to be tagged in. You are welcome to ask to be tagged in everything, or you can pick from any of the fics listed down below.

I am always happy to chat, so please feel free to send me an ask or DM anytime! Mutuals are welcome to ask for my Discord!

Dunkirk

Cold Waters & Sunlit Gardens

When she decides to accompany the Dawsons on their voyage to help during the evacuation of Dunkirk, Daisy Preston has little idea of what she is actually getting herself into. All she knows is that there's tea, the roar of planes overhead, and the blue eyes of the handsome, shivering soldier they just rescued from a shipwreck staring at her from across the deck.

In Time

The Shackles of Broken Time

Trapped in poverty and forced to contribute to a cause she doesn't actually believe in, Rose Mason keeps her mind focused on simply surviving day to day. Until a few reckless actions catch her the attention of Timekeeper Raymond Leon; the last person anyone would want to have as an enemy.

Inception

Hiding Here Inside a Dream

Alice Emerson has known Robert Fischer since they were four years old. Instant best friends, they were near inseparable until the meddling of an abusive father drove them apart. But perhaps they can find their way back to one another. And maybe, finally, admit that they've been in love with each other all this time.

Peaky Blinders

Love Me Where I'm Most Ruined (In Progress)

They call him the Devil. They tell her to stay clear of him. They warn her that he'll steal her soul. But Lucy Winters came to Small Health fleeing monsters and unspeakable trauma. And her soul seems but a small price to pay in exchange for the things that Tommy Shelby has to offer her.

Nocturnal Me

There’s something sitting on the edge of the bed, and it wants her husband.

The Dark Knight Trilogy

The Shadow Game

Broken, traumatized, and more than a little insane, Vanessa Sullivan and Jonathan Crane's childhoods were steeped in horror and loneliness. But when they are assigned as lab partners during their time in college, they realize that they may not be as alone in their madness as they'd both originally thought.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[starburstfloat]

Let's Talk Innuendos and Queer Subtext: TXT's Poppin' Star Lyrics Analysis

One of the joys of making progress in my Korean language journey has been the ability to analyze lyrics more critically by dissecting tone, word choice, or rhyme schemes that would have otherwise slipped by me a few years ago. And as someone who has a deep love for literary analysis and kpop, there's an unparalleled joy in getting to bridge the two together. I'm happy I have this space to do that. So without further ado, let's take a look at TXT's Poppin' Star from their first full-length album, The Dream Chapter: Magic (thank you nika for requesting this!).

This song feels like a sonic representation of this memefied image:

It's literally bubblegum pop at its finest. It sounds sparkly, cute, uplifting, and deceptively adorable, and anyone who has seen the choreography can attest to watching the video with a ridiculous smile on their face.

I could give high praise endlessly about this underrated early TXT Bside, but I wanted to prioritize the lyrics for this post! We're going to talk about the superficial meaning of the song before we dissect some of the more suggestive, metaphorical elements. Heads up I'll be mentioning sexual innuendos, so if that's not your cup of tea then please kindly leave.

My goal is to get you to see that, at the very least, this song is not just about eating candy. Whether or not we agree on the queer subtext is another debate, but I'm hoping this analysis post can be a lesson on interpreting figurative language and grasping inneundos.

Whenever I do analysis, I always start with the surface level face-value of what's being presented, and then I try to peel the layers and discern the underlying themes or suggested connotations based on context clues. Usually I leave out the initial face-value in my posts because it's something so obvious that it feels contradictory to present it. But it feels relevant to include for Poppin' Star. So what is the face-value meaning of the song when we look at the lyrics as a whole?

On the surface, this song appears to be about a young male protagonist who experiences a burst of emotions - dizzying warmth, sweetness, and a clouded brain - after he eats a variety of flavored candies. He states that he is not satisfied with the burst of flavor he's experiencing - now that he knows this intense feeling, he's craving more.

cr. color coded lyrics (though I'm cross referencing multiple translations and using my own knowledge of individual words and tonal conjugations to understand the song)

It doesn't take much of an analytical eye to catch the innuendo presented in Poppin' Star. What exactly is an innuendo? An innuendo is an allusive hint to something typically sexual. The keyword here is hint - it's something you pick up on based on subtly provocative language. Critics could argue that "your brain must be in the gutter" if you find sexual context where there is supposedly none. I'd say blaming the observer for a sexual interpretation is disrespectful to the art in question. Inneundos are meant to be spotted and discussed - they have the potential to heighten the art and unveil a greater message. Just because something is sexual does not mean it is bad.

Now that we have that cleared, it's pertinent to reflect on the surface value of the lyrics in contrast to the glaring inneundo jumping out at the audience. Let's look at the opening lyrics together:

One look at the lyrics, and you'll raise your eyebrows and go, "Really? You sampled a mouthful of candy and can't stop talking about how you're tingling all over, feel dizzy, and are melting from the sweetness?" The song's lyrics and language is quite figurative: the audience is guided to see beyond the literal meaning.

If we break down the individual feelings our protagonist shares, it sounds reminiscient of a first kiss or sexual experience. Considering how strongly the lyrics center on oral pleasure (oral as in the literal sense of the mouth), the rightfully assummed metaphor here is kissing. Let's look at all the instances where the song connects pleasure to the mouth:

별가루 가득 물면 느껴지는 불꽃놀이일까? / (Is this) fireworks that I feel when I bite a whole mouthful of stardust?

입 안을 채운 콕콕 따끔한 이 느낌은 또 / This tingling feeling that has filled my mouth

혀끝에 건전지 / A battery at the tip of my tongue

Our protagonist talks extensively about the pleasure in his mouth in correlation to feeling dizzy, warm, fuzzy, electrified, and excited - all feelings heavily associated with heightened sexual experiences, and notably kissing.

A striking detail is the fact that our protagonist is not alone during the story - he's actively talking to another person, meaning he's not literally eating candy by himself and getting an explosive sugar rush as the superficial interpretation insinuates. We notice this from the opening line which calls to a direct "you":

짜릿한 정전기 you’re popping star / Electrifying static, you're popping star.

Not only is this a reference to the title, making it an important detail to note, but it's also inviting the audience into acknowledging the relevant prescence of another character, some unnamed you. He goes on to say:

머리가 띵하게 기분 좋은 my love / Making my head feel dizzy, that good feeling, my love

He's directly saying "my love," so this person is clearly special to him. This person is his popping star - someone who evokes all of these explosive, tingling feelings.

The chorus is riddled with suggestive language: "This isn't enough / I need something stronger / A chew full of lemon, lime, orange, yeah / I need more, more, more / A stronger popping / A chew full of lemon, lime, orange, yeah"

Our protagonist is craving more flavor as he seeks a pleasure high. My interpretation is that the other character is wearing flavored chaptstick, perhaps fruit-flavored or candy-flavored, and our protagonist wants to taste more of the character's lips. Another interpretation is that they're both chewing on flavored gum, and when they kiss, the flavors blend together in a satisfying burst. Both feel plausible to me. The chorus suggests a kiss through the explosive repetition of surprised "oh's" that the members sing. It's hard to explain without hearing it, so skip to 0:48 in the song to catch what I mean. The explosive instrumental paired with the high-pitched oh's feels representative of an epiphany, or at least a heightened emotional state.

Perhaps one of the most glaringly suggestive parts of the song is Beomgyu's line after the first chorus, where he says:

잠깐 쉬어갈 땐 slime vacation / When (I) take a short break, slime vacation

This implies he's taking a break from exchanging slime, or saliva, with the aforementioned "you". Keep in mind that Korean sentences don't always need an explicit subject, so it's unclear whether Beomgyu is saying "When I take a short break" or "When we take a short break". However, later in the song, during a critical moment that I'll get to shortly, Yeonjun explicitly mentions the pronoun 우리 (we/us) which means we can assume this whole candy-tasting fiasco is, at the very least, a pleasure-seeking high that our protagonist is doing with someone by his side.

The kissing metaphor is more strongly suggested when Taehyun says:

어제 했던 건 벌써 지루해 / The things that (I did/were done) yesterday are already boring

더 더 더 강한 popping이 필요해 / I need a stronger popping

which tells me the song is self-aware enough to recognize it's not just about eating candy. Why would yesterday's candy be described as "the things that were done yesterday"? I also find it interesting that he's using the verb 지루하다 instead of 심심하다 when mentioning boredom. Both of these verbs mean "to be bored", but 심심하다 refers to boredom through a lack of action, whereas 지루하다 has the connotation of being bored by something because you've been doing it for a prolonged time; as in, you're getting physically tired of it. So, Taehyun is saying that the stuff he did yesterday has become repetitive and tiring, and he's now seeking a stronger high. Very suggestive language.

There's a line from Heuningkai that really stands out towards the latter half of the song. He goes:

가끔은 조금 위험해도 돼 / Sometimes it can be a little dangerous

엄마 몰래 자물쇠를 열어봐 / Open the lock without my mom knowing

The conjugation here is very interesting!! He uses the 아/어도 되다 pattern at the end of the adjective for "dangerous", which is a conjugation used to give permission for something. So, rather than him stating the fact that it's dangerous, he's giving permission to the speaker to be a little dangerous. It's a subtle nod at him approving risky behavior, so perhaps a better translation would be "it's alright if sometimes it's a bit dangerous".

"Open the lock" reminds me of Soobin's verse in Sugar Rush Ride:

, which I interpret as a more blatantly sexual inneundo for losing one's virginity. I don't think Poppin Star implies more than kissing, but asking someone to open your lock without your mom knowing, and engaging in risky behavior, appears symbolic to doing something you wouldn't want your mom to see, so at the very least it's suggestive language.

This interpretation aligns with the direct album overview provided by Bighit, which states that "The Dream Chapter: MAGIC tells the story of 'magical adventures' that boys encounter together with their friends [...] the boys share their transformation, confusion and exploding emotions that arise during their transition to adolescence." Notice that the official statement itself says that the album centers on a boy and his friends as they transition into adolescence. Interesting.

I'd be happy to leave the analysis there and say, "See? The song is clearly an innuendo", but then the writers toss in the gayest shit during the last third of the song that forces the audience to pause and reinterpret.

Yeonjun and Taehyun sing the following lines:

이건 어쩌면 나라에서 허락한 / Maybe this is something that the country has allowed

우리끼리만 숨겨둔 유일한 / Something we have kept hidden just among us

자 아무에게나 허락된 게 아냐 / Alright, it's not allowed to just anyone

입안 가득 터뜨려 / Burst a mouthful

The verb used here is 허락하다 which means to allow, permit, or approve. Talking about what your country allows in connotation to something you've kept hidden among the two of you…feels queer-coded. Especially when the rest of the song has been dedicated to pursuing a thrill from "my love", a pursuit which they acknowledge is intimately private given the line "without my mom knowing". Why bring up what's allowed in your country in a song that centers on a boy seeking pleasure? The last line is odd too - it's conjugated as a command, so our protagonist is telling us, the audience, that we should pop a mouthful of the candy too. In connection to the line above it, it's implied that he knows popping the candy aka kissing his love is not allowed for everyone, but he's encouraging others to try. Adding to the intrigue is the fact that they repeat the last two lines again, but change the command to 입안 가득 터뜨려 봐 which is a less forceful command and more like "Give it a try".

If the song truly were just about candy, talking about what your country allows and who is allowed to do it feels very out of place and strange. This, paired with the striking fixation on oral pleasure makes me believe the song is about a boy kissing his friend, and it's been a fun, exciting little secret between the two of them.

It doesn't feel like an exaggeration to find queer subtext here. If you're an avid TXT fan, you'll know their songs are very queer-coded, from 0x1=lovesong having the most blatant thematic connection (I still regularly think about Soobin's "I can't go to heaven, I don't belong there" line) alongside Sugar Rush Ride, which suggests we "swallow the sugar rush"....sir, swallow what exactly??!

I hope this could spark your interest and see the lyrics from a new perspective. Sorry not sorry if this burst your innocent perception of the song...like I said, it sounds deceptively adorable 😂 let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading!

[gipzisays209]

No way! I feel flattered!!!

Remember what I said before? About the sysmed server not knowing I exist? Well! It appears as though that would now be an incorrect statement! (More under the cut)

Let's go at this like it's English class, shall we? Dissect this post for it's contents?

"If you get this server taken down, we'll just make another server. ... If it comes to that, we'll just share the links in private GCs ..."

Well. Ain't that a kick in the head! If one server gets taken down, it's entirely possible to take another one down for the exact same reason! And saying you'll only hand out links privately... hate to break it to ya, but I, the host, am a Theatre kid. Acting is a hobby, and one I'm damn good at. You hand out links privately, only to people you deem trustworthy? Honey, that is my forte. ;)

"You're getting mad and defensive over us calling you out ... Instead of wasting your time reporting our server, maybe focus your energy on reporting servers that are actually harming people?"

Whoa, slow down there, hoss. Take a breather. You ever thought about why we're here? In your Discord? Taking screenshots and leaking them?

It's because, surprise surprise, fakeclaiming is harmful. It doesn't matter what it is, if you're getting fakeclaimed over a unique and individual experience/identity, that can (and sometimes will, sadly) cause a spiral that can lead to some nasty places. Depression. Isolation.

Even places like self-harm and suicide.

We are here because your server is harmful. We are here because you present an active threat to the community. But of course your HIGHNESS can't bear to think they're the problem!

"Addressing the ban claims, at one point we did ban a lot of faker systems from our server while rooting out a mole. Everyone from that event has since been unbanned. If you are still banned, its for a reason. Claims of us 'banning just because we can' are false. I could take a screenshot of our ban list and give a reason for every single one."

*Sips cup*

Yeah, I think we can move on from this one.

And now, the quote I've been so desperately wanting to address...

"Gip, because I know you’re in here, kindly stop sucking Ghost’s dick and get your own opinions, it would do everyone good. That goes for all of his little zombie followers. If your lives revolve around people on an online messaging app screwing around, re-evaluate your life choices."

Wow, where do I start with this one?

Blatant misgendering, bordeline going against their own rules when it comes to naming people on the server- I have 20 followers! And even then, you're still going to drop a version of my username? Just like that? Mmmmm...

I have my own opinions, thanks. I don't need a circlejerk discord to make me feel better about my own shitty fucking existence, cuz I have the balls to outright admit I'm a petty asshole with no fucking life. And my opinion is that people like Sophie, people like Cambrian and Lunastas and Guardian- all of them are fucking right. They have all proven they do their goddamn research, they actually give back to the communities they inhabit, and most of all, they aren't leeching off of people just by fucking existing, as hard as it is for you guys to believe.

(Also, if you're gonna insult someone, get it fucking right lmfao. Ghost is the goddamn host, Sophie is not Ghost. Two different people. Also, I'm fucking Asexual, so um, projecting much?)

Wow. As of writing this, they literally just got worse!

Well. You see, while I personally choose to censor Discord usernames to close loopholes like this, it's actually not the same as if you sent a Tumblr handle. What you're seeing in those screenshots are not identifiers, they are server nicknames. Which are specific to THAT SERVER ONLY. Unlike places like Tumblr and Twitter, where seeing your name automatically means someone can find you, on Discord it's actually not possible (that I know of) to doxx someone through a server nickname alone. So no, actually, Sophie didn't leave your username out there, only a server nickname, and the two are not the same. So yes, actually. Because Discord is it's own site with it's own way of handling usernames, it is perfectly acceptable what Sophie did (although not perfectly ideal), because nobody is going to be able to use those names alone to doxx and/or harass.

And finally, the final update as of writing this post... the almighty @ everyone ping...

Damn. I don't even have to AP English IV this shit, they already did it for me!

To sum it all up, phew... I guess I'm a target now! Which I'm honestly pretty damn fine with! But just know, I don't fuckin hold back. I will be a bitch for the sake of being a bitch, because I don't care how petty I am. I don't care about what people think of me, or whatever the fuck you could ever do to me.

I care about defending people from the likes of you.

So go on. Give me your best shot, then. You have the balls to call me out in front of your entire Discord server?

Challenge accepted, motherfucker.

Challenge accepted, motherfucker.

Challenge accepted.

Let's get 'em, bitches!

[tarotwithdanise]

A LETTER FROM YOUR PHYSICAL BODY TO YOU

a collaboration pac reading with one of the best & greatest person and reader here on this platform @alaezasmystery.

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose a pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

1 - 2

3 - 4

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

Just a quick disclaimer : This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! WE don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

Please ignore any grammatical errors on this reading since english is not OUR first language, thank you for understanding!

Third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore, this pac can contains harsh, hurtful comments about you or the other person that can trigger you if possible, so kindly read at your own risk and take how it’ll resonates.

Lastly, be happy and enjoy this reading and OUR work — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the readers.

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

send your tips on my ko-fi account, link is here.

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SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , WE don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however reading goes and belong to us. This reading is collaboration with alaezasmystery, here's their MASTERLIST and PAID READINGS SERVICES that they offer currently.

PILE ONE

made with love by @alaezasmystery

"You've closed your eyes and ears towards all the signs and messages that I've been sending out. For example I told you certain people are not good for us,I told you some food substances or foods bring us deeper down into addition and avoidance, I even send signals when you about to loose certain things in your life ( material/money). You have been too occupied with trying to survive with all the messy responsibilities in life that you do not hear anything I've said. I know that you are in a state of contemplation right now, you want to know what is the deeper meaning of all the things happenings in your life and how to make the next choice correctly. Well I can't clearly tell that you are not looking at the answers that are currently right in front of you, it's like I am right here but you're looking for me at the whole different location. Connect back to bodily sensations and instincts for clarity, for example when you see and you light up within, pay attention and follow. I am your compass."

PILE TWO

made with love by @alaezasmystery

"Oh come on, do you know how pretty we are? We are extremely,extremely beautiful, from hair to toe. Why hating us? Go and show yourself to the world. I want more people to see us. I know you are learning to shine but you have limited yourself to such a small audience. Come on, our body needs to seen !!!! You might think that we need more patience or our action /looks/ outfits etc need to be more curated or we need to add more wow factors, but love the truth is our rawness itself is a big wow. I will tell you a secret, our beauty has a purpose,it is the key to our wish fulfillment. We have the power too attract and we can use it to our things get done. I know you have a big wisdom to share, have you thought of using beauty for it ??? Some people call this manipulation but I think they are just making an enemy out of tools they are naturally granted with, kinda stupid !!! No ??? This 8s one of your powers. Me as your physical body is not born to be confined and hidden away. I am meant to be visible and in a big way."

PILE THREE

made by danise @daninixx

Dear my universe,

You didn't know how your energy and appearance are made with galaxy, from your eyes that are look like a cluster of an explosion of stardust everytime you are looking at the mirror. Like how those stretch mark similar to the our planet called venus, embrace me like how you did from your past. I know weren't perfect but when everytime I seen you it's like I'd been watched a real fantasy movie, you seems too pretty like those people we see online and magazine. Your dark circles will be a singing melody of nebula, we know you did well for yourself and future, you did very well my love, your face is the canva for making a beautiful painting of cosmos even your pimples and acnes are alike of constellations of stars. Furthermore, your uneven and not perfectly white teeth are just like our sun. Like how you smile with everyone, it shine and shone alone that make people light their world up each day and so why would you worry? Even you have a hue color of yellowish teeth — dentist said they are normal from our genetics. Your dark spots they're the one of most beautiful part for me, they are like moon giving the darkest nights light and somehow everything else is normal, they seem like they are. We are twins, we reflecting the whole universe and baby, don't forget that even we are not the same like others, we are unique, we are the real definition of a beautiful disaster. Because in the first place we are human.

With love, galaxy

channeled song :

PILE FOUR

made by danise @daninixx

To my one true love,

I hope you are doing well even though i wanted to give up, please do take care of me. I only have you in this world, when i asking you to have sleep, bring me some foods or eve drink a glass of water please do command with me, this only for ourselves and healthiness. I am truthfully in hurt right now of how you treated me, it seems like I am a trash for you? If you can only say sorry and take care of me i would forgive you. Stop comparing yourself to others, accept me as i am, i maybe not as good like others but this build makes you different from them, you have a natural beauty and body so accept it, we are precious like diamonds and pearls. Always choose to reflect your consciousness and have a commitment to self-love, if you wanted to say no to toxins foods and yes to those healthiest as much as possible, I will be glad so. You deserve to look great, and you are worth the effort, if you think you are busy enough please have some time and space for me to take care of — I know you are comparing me to others but i wanted you to know that we are all different and authentic body shapes and kind, i love you for who you are. It's time for you and this is the right time to love each other, face your fears and listen what they wanted to say. Allow yourself to be confident also take a leap of faith with this process i know you can do it. Be gentle with me, with yourself. We are the true richness and treasure here so breathe deeply let your fabulous belly to expand and feel it greatness and it will take a lot of time but make it progress so take slow down and stop hurrying. We'll wish we had loved more, lived more and been at peace in the future.

From the best version of you.

channeled song :

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･i love end#0625

ﾟ･｡･ﾟ, I may not be online when this pac reading is posted since i really sleep early and i put this on queue however i hope and hoped hard you all enjoy and loved this pac with @alaezasmystery. We put our love, effort and time to do this so please we wanted to know your thoughts and feedbacks. Also i would like to say "thank you so much" because I had finally reached 800+ followers within two months that was one of my biggest achievement here, sending you some love and positive energy.

With love, Danise.

[fritz-federleicht]

Daisies/ Four x reader

Summary: you take photos together

Words: 808

FLUFF

Image isn't from me

"Can you take a picture of me and Y/N?"

You hear your name and look up. Your masked boyfriend IV talks to the band photographer Mick.

"If Y/N wants to." The two men turn to you. You nod hesitantly and rise.

"So that's it for today?" II asks the photographer. Actually, only band photos for promotional purposes were to be taken outdoors today. Mick nods in agreement.

II follows Vessel and III. The two didn't wait for Mick's response, but simply decided the photo shoot was over. The small group walks in your direction.

"Have fun Y/N." Says III kindly as he's only a few meters away from you. His tone tells you he's smiling under his mask.

You watch as II suddenly picks up speed and jumps on III's back, almost attacking him. The tall skinny man gives a startled grunt and almost falls over. He just barely manages to put his hands in II's knee bends to keep him in place. You walk past the three of them, laughing.

Then you look at IV. He stretches his hand in your direction. You walk a little faster and grab it.

"How do you want the photos?" Mick asks.

"You get to decide, my love." IV squeezes your hand. You look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes. An idea pops into your head.

"How about you just take a picture of our eyes." You look back and forth between the two grown men. "So that just barely one half of our faces is visible. We can just lie down in the grass." You look at Mick, waiting.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I can do anything. You just have to say what you want."

"Okay, what do you say?" You turn to IV.

His eyes are full of enthusiasm. "That's a good idea."

So after you decide on this position you go to a green meadow, it's overflowing with white daisies. You lie down between them.

IV settles down next to you and leans on his elbows. You grin and look at his face that is now hovering over you.

"The flowers make you shine." He reaches out a hand and caresses your cheek. "So pretty."

Your face heats up.

"I hate to interrupt you, but I have to get to my next client soon." Mick interrupts you.

"Sorry man." IV lies down in the grass. He moves as close to you as he can. Your cheeks touch.

"I'm going to stand over you. Just look at the camera." Orders Mick, he now has his camera in his hand.

He leans over you and takes photos. Then he leans back and stops. "Perfect. Thank you both."

IV helps you stand up. Then you walk with intertwined hands to the other members.

A day later, III writes you a message.

"The photos turned out so cute."

You write back. "What photos?"

"From yesterday. Haven't you seen the pictures yet? IV posted some on Instagram."

Immediately, you open Instagram. And in fact, he posted two pictures of the two of you.

In the first pic only your eyes are visible. The small cutout of his black mask make his blue eyes stand out even more than they already do. But that's nothing compared to your eyes. They compete with his.

You swipe to the side. The second image is shot from a higher angle. Your face is visible up to your nose. You're sure his fans still can't recognize you.

Daisies grow at the edge of this photo, they surround your profile and contrast with the mask from IV.

But what immediately catches your eye is a black spot on your cheek. It must be from IV when he touched you.

You grin and read the caption.

'My little flower, your beauty will never fade, as will my love for you. I will forever be your water and the earth under your feet.'

It's unbelievable what these few lines trigger in you. Your belly fills with butterflies.

"Baby?" You call into the apartment.

"I'm here!"

You walk into the room IV's currently in. There is a big smile on your face. "I love you too." Your legs automatically lead to him.

His confused expression turns into a smile after he understands what you are talking. about "You like it?"

"Do I like it?" You ask, putting your arms around his neck. "Absolutely." You lean over and kiss his lips. "I found out through III. He likes the pictures. He thinks they're beautiful."

IV wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you again. "They're only beautiful because you're on them, my love." He whispers against your lips.

Your legs get weak. If he hadn't held you in his arms, this sentence would have made you fall to the ground.

[finniestoncrane]

Hi finnie! I hope you're having a good timezone ^^

I was wondering if you'd do a headcanons post for the riddlers reacting to a fem!reader they have a crush on accidentally sending them spicy photos (nudes or lingerie, chefs choice lol)? I was gonna ask for rogues reacting but that's just cause I also wanted to ask for scarecrow, mad hatter and daddy ozzie but I feel like that might be asking a lot ><

Feel free to ignore this or just do parts of it if you're feeling up to it!!♡

- E.F.

Accidental Nudes

Riddler Headcanons (with some Daddy Oz and others) ok but effy i just got off work for almost two weeks so i am in a perfect mood to do all the riddlers and the other little scruffs too! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: suggestive stuff

gotham

*very cute pic of you standing up from behind*

he's not sure you meant that for him but he's double checking anyway

that you meant to send it! not the picture

although he has been staring at it without blinking since you sent it

cheeks red completely

sweat on his forehead

mouth suddenly very dry despite the fact that he's sure he's drooling out the corner of his open mouth

if you ask about it, he'll pretend he hasn't seen it

to save you both the embarrassment

arkham

*"how about this?"*

*lingerie set pic*

*"fuck. shit. please ignore and delete all messages ed"*

*"meant to send to a friend"*

*"ed seriously pls"*

buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz omg

he's told you about the multiple texting thing before just send it in one easy to ignore paragraph

and why are you texting him when he specifically said that he was busy working on- OH

ok less annoyed at you now

because this was worth the interruption

and fighting the temptation to tell you that it looks good

he kindly deletes the messages

but he has a photographic memory

and he'll be grinning like an idiot next time he sees you in the flesh

capullo

*tit pic*

*"oh shit, here we go"*

OH OH OH OK

so you said, and you were very clear

that unwarranted dick pics were not appropriate!!

so how come you get to send nudes???

i mean not that he's complaining

but uh... tit for tat you know

now if you're open to requests

how about taking one with a lower view... are you wearing anything on the bottom half?

or are you completely nude?

WHAT!? SO HE CAN'T EVEN ASK!?

unburied

*flirty just out the shower pic*

*"sorry, not meant for you, but enjoy!"*

well that's infuriating

because first of all maybe he was enjoying it

but he definitely will be trying not to now out of spite

then again... you do look wonderful

and it is a complete tease to send him a picture meant for someone else

although that might just be a clever trick

either way, saved to camera roll for later

but he won't be telling you that

telltale

*top half bare, bottom half in panties pic*

*"edward! please delete the last message, i am so sorry"*

disappointment immeasurable

you're the kind of person who sends pictures like that over messages?

he was right to think he shouldn't have given you his number

but also

if this was indeed an accident

that means you didn't intend to send it to him

which means this gratuitous display of your body was meant for someone else

and as soon as he finds out who you might find them uncontactable

dano

*exceptionally good butt pic with panties*

he doesn't get it...

OH! that's... you! oh my...

of course he'll delete it!

but... who did you mean to send it to?

you're just taking it for yourself? oh ok

that's nice! he's glad!

glad that you were... appreciating yourself, not glad that...

that you weren't sending it to someone else, because that would make him jealous and he's not jealous at all

because he doesn't... you don't like him like that so it's fine

it's whatever

he's going to go lie face down on the floor for a while now

with his phone on silent

twojar

*topless selfie*

*"ooooooh... sorry"*

don't be sorry, nothing he hasn't seen before

do you know how many women send him shirtless pics

he's inundated with them, frankly

it's a nuisance yes, but at least you didn't mean to send it

you... didn't mean to send it, right?

right! just an accident! of course!

why would you ever mean to send him those pictures

you're not interested in him in the slightest

and that... that doesn't drive him mad at all

that doesn't make you one of the few women to turn him down

which doesn't make him want you all the more

especially now that he's had a glimpse of what he's missing out on

young justice

*teasing selfie with your hands over your boobs*

*"oh gosh, ed! so sorry!!*"

he hasn't even seen the second message

because when he opened the first one, he threw his phone across the room

is it possible to get that hard that quick?

because he is and he did

he barely even got a look at you, and there was barely even anything to see

but it was enough to send him over the edge

genuinely close to tears over how hot you are

and how pathetically desperate he is for you

don't expect to get a reply

and he'll also be hiding from you for at least three weeks

AND THE BONUS BOYS <3

penguin

*showing off your new lingerie*

*"uh... sorry, mr cobblepot... finger slipped"*

hey you know what, that's ok, these things happen

but uh... your finger ever takes a fancy for slipping again

he wouldn't be complaining

also, it looks good on you kid, you should be sending that to everybody you know

looks good enough to sell the stuff

which speaking of, how much was it

maybe as a thank you for lifting his spirits up he can send you the cost, a treat

maybe you spend that money on something new

make sure to show him that as well

scarecrow

*nude selfie*

*"good god in heaven jon please don't look at that picture"*

you could have just found him and deleted it yourself in the time it took for him to see the message

his phone is always on silent and he never knows where it is

perhaps the cracks on the screen shielded most of you

either way, when you see him next, flustered and embarrassed, he can't help but revel in your nerves

he won't tell you he saw it

he won't even acknowledge it

but now he can finally pinpoint the reason he doesn't mind being around you

mad hatter

*sweetly posed picture of you topless and smiling

gosh golly, he almost dropped his phone into his cup

verbal and visual example of a keyboard smash

cheeks are bright pink, eyes are WIDE

should he send one back? express his apperciation?

surely you can't have meant this for him

perhaps it would be best, most polite, to delete the images

but now that he knows what's hiding under your shirt

and how sweet your smile can look even in the most...

intimate circumstances

it's going to be harder to hide his crush