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lalal-99 · 17 days

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Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

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He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

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t-lostinworlds · 23 days

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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

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© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#bhh #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

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harrysonlylover · 6 months

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At All Costs

Summary: The ruthless special agent reveals his other side when Y/n gets hurt in the field

Trope: Agent! Harry

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of physical violence, blood, mean harry, protective harry.

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The training facility was buzzing with agents who rushed back and forth in confusion and fear.

They’re not supposed to be gathered here, this is not where they meet up nor where they should be right now. But once the chief sends an order, no questions are asked.

They bumped into each other like scaredy cats and it was ironic considering all the strength training they were subjected to. The stamina and physical strength they yielded evaporated once he stepped into the room. He’s been stern since day one, only a fool would make eye contact with him or disobey his orders.

As the chief, authority, and discipline radiated off him but this time it was different. He appeared psychotic, murderous even.

No one wanted to stand before him and report what happened, the furrow between his eyebrows, and the clenching of his fists were enough to zip mouthes.

“What is this fucking shitshow?!” His furious voice echoed through the room as agents lowered their gaze to the ground.

It seemed like he was ready to rip off their heads one by one for the mess they made. His left hand was bandaged, showing a layer of blood beneath it. Sweat covered his forehead and his hair that used to be styled was now messy and all over his face.

His bulletproof vest was practically useless. No one would dare to aim their gun in his way; not even the enemy.

“Agent Styles, I—I c-an explain.” A voice sounded out in the back and everyone else moved to allow the ‘brave guy’ to come forward.

It wasn’t really about bravery. Agent Marks was in charge of assigning field agents and pairing them with each other. The order that was given to him by Agent Styles a few months ago regarding Y/n’s safety was heavily violated.

No one knew about the order except these two, and when Marks’ eyes met Harry’s raging ones; he realised he’d probably utter his last words right now.

“Explain what? How you fucked up and paired a little bitch that’s full of himself with Y/n?” He didn’t need to shout, the anger in his voice naturally made his tone higher and more violent.

“I’ll deal with him, sir.” Marks’ voice came out shaky. He tried to stand his ground but there was no escape from the humiliation he was being subjected to.

The room was completely silent. No one wished to breathe loudly, and they set their eyes everywhere except Styles’ direction.

“I already took care of him.” He spat, as drops of venom dripped with every word. His bandaged hand was proof of his deadly anger; let alone the traces of blood on his face and hands.

All agents and trainees in the room cursed their luck for being here at this time. No one expected this to happen and they definitely did not think Harry Styles was capable of caring for someone.

Agents got injured almost daily in the field. If it was a mess up, there would be a small lecture about it followed by intensive training but this? This incident turned Harry into a murderous man.

Y/n took a bullet in her left shoulder and was brought to the training facility since it was the nearest agents’ center. Her injury wouldn’t have allowed her to hold on till they reached the hospital, so Harry sent an order for the best medics to come here.

As soon as he heard the news, it was obvious that something was off. He’s a direct and stern chief, it takes him a few seconds to spew out orders for everyone. But once Y/n’s name was announced as the ‘fallen agent”, hell broke loose.

Stanley Browns was Y/n’s partner in this mission, they were given instructions to raid a drug cartel’s secret hideout, but when the mission went sideways Browns abandoned Y/n in the middle of being cornered by armed men.

It’s a miracle that she survived and managed to escape their trap, Harry’s heart clutched at the thought of her fighting for her life without him being there to help her.

Did she use one of his tricks that he taught her?

“Everyone out now!” A familiar voice shouted prompting everyone in the room to bump into each other as they fled away.

Harry was still standing, shooting daggers at Agent Marks who was already aware of the beating Stanley earned.

The news of how he almost met death spread faster than Y/n’s injury. A few agents found him after he ran away from the mission and handed him in to Harry who was seeing red at the time.

Over five men had to pull him away after he knocked Stanley unconscious. He just wouldn’t stop punching him, his face was unrecognizable and blood covered the ground beneath them. He may have survived, but will most likely never walk again. It took them a while to get Harry away from him as he kept shouting death promises.

The veins along his neck and forehead, his trembling hands, and his labored breaths were enough to make anyone avoid him. At this point, it was clear that Y/n’s injury was personal to him.

Zayn who ordered agents to leave signaled for Marks to do the same as Harry’s eyes darted to the hallway that led to the room Y/n is in.

“Go check on her.” Zayn’s hand patted Harry’s back who didn’t think twice before walking away.

The grip she had on him was insane, and he didn’t even realize it. He just acted on his first instincts when it came to her. There was nothing official between them, not even romantic gestures. It was simply angry sex.

Y/n had gotten into the program one year ago, she did not fear anyone, was full of herself, and challenged her superiors when she felt like it. At some point, Harry had to supervise her and he certainly didn’t like being talked back to.

Lectures and punishments didn’t work on her, he secretly admired her tough and cocky personality. It didn’t take him long to start admiring her body as well, and the rest was history.

No romantic feelings were involved, or so he thought. The fact that he almost killed a man for her did not really settle in. The same way he walked to the room she was in without thinking twice.

She was placed on a bed with medical cables attached to her body. Her shoulder was wrapped and Harry winced once he caught a glimpse of it.

He sat down on the chair next to the bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t bear looking at her face that he searched for during training and stared at in secretive awe.

This should have never happened.

He didn’t want to think about her pain, how she might have wanted him to come for her, and he definitely did not wish to think about what would’ve happened if she wasn’t such a brave girl.

He had a reputation for being cold and strict, yet he felt like his throat was closing up because a girl who pushed his buttons was injured.

He might have gone a bit too far… but it’s nothing compared to the gestures he’s been doing recently, starting from ordering Marks to protect her.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone all sad now.” Her voice made his head shoot upward only to find her forcing a weak smile.

He was up on his feet in a few seconds. “Are you in pain?”. He looked around like frantically for water and pain-killing pills.

“I already took some Harry.” Despite her injury, Harry’s actions were all she could hear about from the medics. Apparently, everyone was talking about it. The news was a natural pain relief, she never expected Harry to care for her in a million years. It was what she had secretly wished for, catching feelings for him was inevitable.

They were oblivious to the shift that occurred between them. More sex than usual, sleeping in each other’s bed and cuddling, sneaking between training, and most importantly kissing. Harry felt like a madman if he didn’t taste her lips for more than a day.

“I know what you did.”

“It was the right thing to do.” He replied automatically as he stared at her pale face.

“It’s always right or wrong for you.” She shook her head in disapproval.

“He caused this.” His hands gripped the bed rail tightly, he was once again reminded of his failure to protect her.

“Agents get injured all the time Harry.”

“You’re not any agent. You’re my fucking love.” His voice was shaky at the end and tears began to well up in his eyes.

Y/n gazed at him in shock, unable to process what he just confessed.

He loves her?

“I—“ He interrupted her by pressing his lips to her temple and cradling her face in his hands.

“Rest baby. I promise you this will never happen again. I’d rather die before it does.” He whispered , unbothered by showing his vulnerable side because he almost lost her.

“I can’t die without telling you that I love you.” Tears streamed down her face as he pressed one peck after the other to her lips.

“You also won’t have someone to disobey you during training.” She earned a vibrant chuckle from him that went straight through her heart. It was rare to see Harry Styles smiling and of course, it would be because of her.

“You know I only like it when you disobey me at certain times.”

“I guess my days of mischief are gone now.” She sighed dramatically as her fingertips held onto Harry’s.

“Oh no, how will you survive?”

“Kisses. Lots of them.”

“Then you will heal quickly little minx.”

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf

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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months

Text

I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

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pulisicsgirl · 7 months

Text

gonna be the death of me - mason mount

summary: as his publicist, Y/N is willing to do whatever Mason needs to make him comfortable at his latest sponsored photoshoot

pairing: Mason Mount x publicist!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings/tags: no established relationship, suggestive language, sexual tension(??), they're both down so badly for each other it's insane

requested: no

notes: surprise!!! I think I speak for all of us when I say we were caught completely off-guard by Mason's new Nike ad... 🫣 But anyway, I was inspired by it to write out a blurb or two, but this one just kept going and it turned into a full-length fic 🤭 So... enjoy?? Also, I couldn't pick only one picture for this fic so please enjoy both of these

As a publicist, there was nothing unusual about you attending an event with one of your clients. Especially when it was for a sponsored ad that you’d had a large part in organizing. But something about this one felt different—a nervous, fluttery feeling in your chest as you walked in the front doors.

Maybe it was the fact that it was Mason, a client of yours that you maybe fancied just a teeny tiny little bit, no matter how hard you tried to convince others that it wasn’t the case.

Or maybe it was the fact that the partnership you had organized for him involved him modeling in nothing but his underwear.

Yeah, it was probably that.

In an effort to remain professional, you had done everything in your power to remain cool and collected that day. You had waited for Mason to arrive, meeting him at the doors before the two of you strolled into the building to determine what needed to be done and where he needed to go.

If Mason was honest with himself, he felt like he was a bit out of his depth with this photoshoot. He had never even been someone to parade himself around topless, let alone in only some tight-fitting underwear.

He had agreed to the shoot months ago, when things hadn’t been going so well for him. He had been struggling with his transfer to a new team and thought that maybe trying something new was just what he needed to snap him out of it. Unfortunately, it had taken quite some time to iron out the details, and now Mason’s nerves were getting the best of him.

So when one of the staff involved in the Nike shoot had approached him, a bottle of body oil in her hands, his stomach sunk to his feet. He only half listened as she explained that it would make the shots look more appealing.

“We understand that this can be a bit uncomfortable, so if you’d like to have someone from your team that you’re more familiar with help you apply it, that would be completely fine. If not, one of the stylists can assist you.” She gestured toward the team of people who had put a few light touches of makeup on his face just about 20 minutes ago.

The Nike team had been nothing but wonderful and accommodating with Mason the entire day, and he really appreciated the effort they had put into making him feel comfortable. He was momentarily relived by the alternative he had been offered, but the relief was short-lived when he realized that the only person on his “team” was you.

The staff member guided him to a cozy dressing room just off the hallway from the main area and explained that he could change and leave his things in this room until the photoshoot was over. There were a few sets of the underwear that he would be modeling laid out for him and a robe hanging to the left of the door.

Mason changed and spent the entire time trying to convince himself to just have one of the Nike staff help him. He didn’t want to make things weird. Part of him did want you to rub your hands all over his body, but he didn’t want the first time you did it to be for something like this.

No matter how much Mason tried to muster up the courage, he just couldn’t shake the way that the idea of a complete stranger oiling him up just compounded the nerves he was feeling, to the point that it made him feel sort of sick.

So minutes later, he was approaching you, body covered by the robe that they had provided for him. You noticed, as he shuffled in your direction, that he was fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit of his. That, combined with the sheepish look he gave you as he stopped at your side, confirmed that he was feeling a bit anxious.

“Hey, Mase. You doing okay?”

Mason had to ignore the way his heart fluttered at both the nickname and the expression of concern on your face.

“Um, yeah, I-“ he started, stumbling over his words a bit. “If I’m honest, I’m pissing myself at the moment.”

Your eyebrows drew together in sympathy, knowing how difficult it must be to be paraded around like this.

“You’re going to do amazing, okay?” you smiled at him, and he only nodded in response. As he shifted back and forth on his feet, you knew there was something else on his mind.

“Um, could you… could you actually do something for me?”

“Anything, Mase. What do you need?”

Having worked with numerous high-profile clients, you learned that when a client asked for something, the answer was always “yes” and if it was something you couldn’t do… well you needed to figure out how to do it anyway. But Mason had never been one to give you much trouble. He had always been extremely kind and considerate of you.

“This is, um… well it’s a bit strange, and if you want to say no that’s completely fine, but,” he paused, taking a brief glance up at your face before he spoke quickly so he didn’t chicken out. “They gave me this oil I need to put over my chest and back and everything and they said I could have someone from my team apply it so it would be someone I’m comfortable with.”

He took another short pause as he tried to gauge your reaction. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was saying. He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression.

His team… you’re his entire team today. He means you.

“If you don’t want to, it’s completely okay. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t—”

“Mason, it’s okay,” you rested your hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, still feeling a bit hesitant. “I would really appreciate it. I’m just… I’m feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing, and I’m not overly fond of the idea of a stranger putting their hands all over my body.”

But you are fond of the idea of me putting my hands all over your body?

You mentally slapped yourself, trying to rid your mind of the filthy thoughts that were running through it.

“Don’t worry about it, Mason,” you smiled at him reassuringly, masking the way that your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your throat. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”

That was absolutely not what you were there for.

So that was how you found yourself following Mason into the dressing room that Nike had set up for him.

You couldn’t help the little flutter in your heart as you noticed that, rather than leaving them on the floor, he had neatly folded his clothes in a pile and placed them on a table in the corner of the room. You weren’t sure why that small detail affected you the way that it did.

Mason untied the belt of the robe, slipping it from his shoulders and tossing it over the back of the chair. You cast your eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling flustered at the sight of his nearly naked body, covered by only a tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.

It blew your mind that anyone who looked like he did could be feeling nervous or insecure about showing himself off. But Mason was merely human, after all, like anyone else.

You did your best to be as calm and causal about the situation as you possibly could. Mason approached the large vanity in the room, pointing you to the bottle of oil he had been instructed to apply to his body sitting on the counter in front of the mirror. You unscrewed the cap, placing a bit in your hand and telling Mason that you would start with his back.

You figured starting there would give you a moment to collect yourself before you had to look at him, face-to-face.

You rubbed the small amount of oil between your palms to warm it before placing them flat over Mason’s back and the touch of his skin on yours felt like an electric shock. You didn’t miss the way that the muscles in his back tensed slightly when you first touched him.

You spread the oil over the soft skin, from his shoulders, down to his waist. As you rubbed it into his lower back, you couldn’t help but admire how the underwear he was modeling hugged his bum.

No! Stop! Get it together, Y/N!

You tried to force yourself to think of anything else—anything other than Mason and his bum and the fact that you were oiling up his naked back.

You began analyzing the kind of oil they were using for the shoot (you had to come up with something, right?). It was sort of light and didn’t make his skin look greasy, like a swimsuit model or anything. It more so had the appearance like he had done a light workout and worked up a thin layer of sweat.

I can think of a few activities we could do to work up a sweat…

You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever this effect was that Mason was having on you.

Deciding that his back was finished, you stepped around to Mason’s front, pouring a bit more of the oil into your palms and running your hands over his arms.

Then, the only bit left to do was the bit that you didn’t know if you would survive… his chest and stomach.

You discreetly tried to take a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek as you started at the top of his shoulders, brushing your hands over his collarbones before your hands drifted lower. You felt the heat rushing into your cheeks.

Mason prayed silently that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was hammering in his chest as your palms smoothed over his skin. He felt like every inch of him was on fire as you touched him in a way that was more intimate than you ever had before.

But as he tried to focus on anything other than how much you were putting him on edge, Mason glanced down to your face and realized he wasn’t alone in how he felt.

He watched as your cheeks burned bright red and you refused to look even remotely close to his face. He felt suddenly a bit lighter at the realization that you were just as tense as he was.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one that was nervous here,” he mumbled quietly, attempting to break the tension in the room.

He could tell you were fighting the grin that took over your face almost immediately. “Oh shut up, you,” you tried to keep up appearances, but it fell flat and Mason could read you easily. You both giggled softly.

You finished up the last bit of his torso, smoothing your hands down his sides, over his Champions League tattoo that you tried to admire without him noticing, and across his tummy. You noted the tiny mole on the upper part of his stomach, swiping a finger over it as you brushed the last bit of oil onto him.

You took one step back from him. “Alright, I think that should do it,” you spoke as you tried to wipe at an itch on your face with the back of your hand.

Mason noticed a shining spot of oil that you left behind. He stepped forward, nearly closing the gap between you as he lifted a hand, wiping it off of the tip of your nose with his thumb.

You gazed up at his face, unable to get away with just gluing your eyes to his torso the way you had been before. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he dropped his hand from your mouth to your jaw, just slightly pulling your lower lip down with his thumb, watching your reaction closely.

The tension between the two of you could’ve been cut by a knife. You felt as though you had stopped breathing as the you stood there, neither daring to make a single sound. Your eyes darted around his face, taking in all of the features you had never noticed before. His hand continued caressing your jaw as you held your hands cautiously on either side of him, afraid to make more of a mess with your oil-covered hands.

Abrupt knocking on the door of the dressing room caused you both to jump, snapping out of the sort of trance you had been in.

“We’re ready for you in 5!” a voice shouted from the other side of the door.

Both of you took a step back from each other, suddenly aware of how close you had been standing. Mason cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck as he tried to gather himself.

“Will you be alright?” you asked, remembering how nervous he had been feeling just a few minutes ago.

“Y-Yeah, I-“ he hesitated for a moment. “Yeah,” he repeated, this time a little more certain.

Seeing how flustered you had been at seeing him the moment he had taken off the robe and how you had blushed at your fingers touched his skin had been the confidence boost he needed to be a little more sure of himself. Seeing the way that you had reacted to him made him feel ready to go out and do the photoshoot.

You watched a soft smile pass over his face, and you wondered what could possibly be going on in that gorgeous head of his.

“Alright,” you giggled at his expression, now seeming much lighter than he had before. “I guess you should head on out. I’ll clean up here and then I’ll be right there.”

Mason nodded, slipping the robe back over his shoulders before he turned to walk out of the room.

With the sudden boost of confidence, he spun on his heel, dipping his head to place a quick kiss on your cheek, and then he was out the door before you had the chance to react.

Your eyes went wide as you took a moment to process everything that had just happened. When you turned to the vanity to begin tidying up, you caught sight of your beet red cheeks. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the biggest grin took over your face.

This boy was certainly going to be the death of you…

tag list:@landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @10vnderhaze

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #footballer fic #footballer imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb

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chelleztjs18 · 9 months

Text

Spiraling Thoughts (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Wanda's spiraling thoughts get between both of you.

Warning: Hurt/Comfort angst, swearing words.

Requested: Yes

A/N: Hello! Another post, another angst from me. I didn't proof read this, sorry in advance for typos. More angsts are on their way :D Anyway, happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Happy and excited. That’s how you feel right now because today is the day you have been waiting for. You have been crossing the dates on the calendar to today’s date. A red “Moving day!” is written on the calendar.

You have packed all your belongings. Stacks of boxes are ready. Your brain tells you that you might need two trips to drive all of them with your car to Wanda’s place.

You have been dating Wanda for an amazing year and a half. Both of you are head over heels in love with each other. You have been giving hints for a few months that you are ready to move in together. Since then, it has been the talk you both have. A month ago, your girlfriend finally agreed to live together.

You are so thrilled and Wanda is happy if you are happy. She knows it from how much you talk about it.

Since then, Wanda has been reorganizing her place for your belongings to fit in. She loves simplicity, her place wasn’t the biggest but it was enough for her to live alone. Wanda tried to prepare everything for you when the day came. Being the overthinking she is, she even did some research on do’s and don'ts or tips for this relationship’s big change.

“I’ll be leaving soon. See you soon,babe!” you texted her. Wanda checks the time then puts her phone down disappointedly. You are late again. The only thing about you that she doesn’t like. Wanda is a punctual person, she hates being late. To watch you being late or waiting for someone who is late is torture to her. Every second slowly but surely irritates her even though she tries not to.

Wanda’s mind starts to spiral before she knows it. All other anxious thoughts force their way to re-exist.

She starts to think what if she has to deal more about being late because of this certain bad habit of yours. What if there are other untolerable habits or differences that show up after both of you living together for some time that might have a domino effect in her relationship with you? Or what if all of this is too soon? Is she actually ready for this? Or is she just doing this to make you happy? What happens if things don’t work out between both of you?

What if…? What if..? What if..? These two words are really pushing Wanda’s to the edge. Her heartbeat starts to double in speed. Her fingertips start to get colder and her hands seem to shake. It’s getting harder for her to breathe. Emotions slowly overfill her heart and mind.

Your Sokovian girlfriend is panicked and scared by now from her overthinking mind. Everything seems spinning. The ticking from the clock on the wall sounds louder gradually in her mind breaking the muffled sound around her. An hour later, the doorbell finally lets her get a break from everything she is experiencing.

Wanda rushes to the door even though her steps feel so heavy. She knows it must be you with all of your stuff, moving in with her. Oh dear, the closer she gets to the door, the heavier her heart feels. Thoughts flash in her mind for a second, the thoughts that you for sure don’t want to hear.

“Hi babe!.” You greet her followed by an apology as you give her a hug. An awkward smile curved on her face. Wanda tries to hold back her spiraling feelings, she is trying hard.

Wanda hugs you back but you know her pretty well, you notice even the slight difference but you try not to overthink. “Y/n, you are late again.” Flat yet irritated was her tone no matter how much she tried to hide it. Wanda glances at the boxes in your car to avoid your gaze whenever you try to look at her.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m working on my punctuality more, Wanda. I promise.” you apologized. You thought that being late was the reason why Wanda seems a little off.

“Well, that’s what you promised three months ago and still, nothing changed.” a snarky comment forced its way out of her lips and you got caught off guard by it. Your forehead creases your eyes while you mind quickly try to figure out what’s going on.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.”

The view of her shrugging her shoulders and her smile slides down to a frown as she turns around then walks away from you. “Wanda, what’s wrong?” you ask and follow her.

Wanda picks up her pace a little to be away from you. “Nothing.” That was all her answer to you. Again, her eyes avoid yours. Everytime you get closer to her, Wanda would move further from you. Walking around from one room to another, she cleans randomly as her steps shift from one spot to another.

“I don’t think we should bring your boxes in yet, detka.” Wanda suggests. Your stomach churns a little after hearing her idea. You love hearing her calling you with any pet names but this time, you are not a fan of it because of the tone.

“Why?” Your eyebrows furrowed. You are waiting for her answer anxiously, standing behind her.

“I’m still cleaning this house, Y/n. That’s why.” Wanda’s tone is slowly filled by such resentment. Her voice raises a little.

“Wanda, the house looks fine and very clean. I know you pretty well. You are cleaning randomly, moving around from one spot to another right now. You only do it when you are upset or something bothers you.”

“No, I’m fine. We can just keep your stuff in your car tonight until I’m done with this house.” Wanda’s tone gets colder.

“Wait, what? What did you mean? Keep them in my car overnight?” your forehead puckered in confusion. “You heard me.” she responds while continuing whatever she is doing with a pout that looks more and more obvious.

“What about my clothes and—” you try to get more clues on what’s going on but Wanda didn’t let you finish. “You can wear mine or borrow whatever you need..”

“But, you told me that everything’s ready. I even made sure with you yesterday about today and you said yes. Something is off, Wanda. Tell me, what’s wrong?” you rambled.

“Nothing..is wrong, y/n.” Wanda denied all your words. You noticed she looks way more unease. You follow her yet Wanda still avoids you from being too close to her.

“No, something is wrong Wanda. You smile differently. You–”

“Y/n..” she calls.

“You didn’t hug me the way you usually do. You–”

“What are you talking about?” Wanda tackled your assumption with the pretend confusion.

“Yeah, you know what I meant, Wanda. You clean randomly and—”

“Oh come on! What stupid theory was that? You should’ve known me, for crying out loud! I..love..to clean.” Wanda lets out her irritation and anger through the way she puts down things.

“You clean loudly. Sometimes you put things or close stuff loudly when you are upset.” you lined up more supportive examples. Wanda walks away from her bedroom to the living room, leaving you but you are determined to get the answer. “Fuck, y/n. Just please stop.” Despite the curse word, Wanda still tries to suppress her voice that’s raising up angrily as she starts to feel cornered.

You take a spot in front of her to block her path of avoidance.“No. No. I won’t stop until I get my answer. What’s going on? Why on earth that all of sudden I can't unload the boxes. I’m really confused right now. There’s–”

She didn’t let you finish once more. “I already told you why.” she gives you a second of death glance before she takes the sideway to walk away from you again.

“Yes, you did but it wasn’t the truth Wanda. You lied. Are you getting cold feet about us living together?” Just like that, your question instantly stopped Wanda and she snapped as she turned around to you.

“What if I am?!” Wanda can no longer keep herself together. She finally spilled the painful truth. meanwhile you are too shocked to respond to it. A soft gasp forced its way to be heard. You swallow hard and your heart drops in a millisecond before the brunette continues to pour her thoughts out.

“What if I’m freaking out right now? This whole thing is too soon, too early or whatever we can call it.” words after words and thoughts after thoughts flowed in such anger the more her mind thought about it.

“Too soon? Wanda, you agreed about this. We have been talking about us living together. We plan this. I thought you wanted it to happen as much as I wanted to?” you argue back with a pinch of genuine confusion.

“Do i, y/n? Or was I on board with it just because you keep giving me hints of what you want? You wanted the truth, right? There it is!” Wanda places both of her hands on her hips as she looks away just so you won’t catch her eyes slowly turning glossy from tears.

After a few seconds of pausing her words, she continued. “You were late coming here, it’s your habit. We both know that. What if you never change? What if there are other things, habits or — or — or differences that trigger us to argue? Imagine if we turn to that couple who fight constantly. What if it doesn’t work out for us?”

Your head hangs low, you look down somewhere random. Anywhere but her eyes. You shake your head slowly followed by a disbelief chuckle. “Wow, you talked like I WILL be or I am the cause that everything won’t work out between us in the future while you are actually the one that shattered the dream that we had. Oh I’m sorry, babe. Let me rephrase that, MY dream, not yours.” you lift up your head and look at her eyes mid sentence and let sarcasm end it.

Your heart aches. In your point of view, Wanda is being unfair to you and it provokes more words out of you. “So you changed your mind?”

Her voice fills the room before the deafening silence ate it all up. You can hear her take a harsh breath. “Y/n—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Wanda.” you demand her answer as you keep looking at her.

Wanda clenches her jaw in silence but it was an obvious shortcut to reach your conclusion. It was enough for you to dig out the answer.

“Y/n, can you just—” Wanda once more trying to avoid your question but you are not having it.

“Leave? Don’t worry, Wanda. I will. I’m gonna go home.” With that, you turn around and walk towards the door. You were hoping that she will try to stop you from leaving but a gut twisting fact shows that she doesn’t even try and just stands there, looking down in an expression that you can’t really decipher. You slammed the door as you walked out that made Wanda flinch a little.

What just happened? Is it over? Was I being selfish? What on earth is going on? Both of you are lost in your own thoughts and questions with no answers. Despite all the thoughts, Wanda stays where she is. She doesn’t know what she feels right now, everything is overwhelming for her even until right this second. She feels drained and tears slowly fill up to the brim of her eyes. Every beat of her heart hurt her. The room feels like an airtight box. Her knees laden. Without her control, the tears finally rolled down her cheeks.

Your brain is multitasking between thinking and focusing on driving. Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the steering wheel as you drive. The more you look at the boxes that are reflected on the back mirror of your car, the more heartache you feel. The day that was supposed to be one of the happiest days in your relationship with Wanda went downhill in a blur. It all happened so fast, too fast actually. Your mind is still processing everything that just happened on your whole way back to your place.

This was the first big fight ever in your relationship and Wanda.

_____

You and Wanda give each other space for two days. That one text she sent you and you didn't reply, Wanda took it as you needed your time alone.

While waiting in silence, Wanda starts to ponder, not just one but many things. Everything that happened that day kept playing in her head over and over again bringing her sense to the surface.

Wanda slowly admits to herself that she was too harsh on you and her anxiety got the best of her. Guilt starts to build up in her heart. Her mind has been filled up with everything about you. Without you, Wanda feels empty and she doesn’t like how it feels when you are not around her. Her heart is longing for your presence and affection. She misses the cheerful side of you that always breaks the silence around the house. All your jokes, laughs and your companion always make her days so meaningful

Wanda’s memory starts to remind her that you indeed have tried your best to fix the bad habits for her as much as she does for you. RIght now, she feels like a fool for forgetting about it.

A week has passed, the more she tries to give you the space and time you need, the harder it gets for her and the more she misses you. Her love for you finally conquered all of her overthinking thoughts. She knows she can’t live without you. Wanda loves you too much to lose you.

_____

With a heavy heart, you just started unpacking the first sealed box that you brought to Wanda's house.

You exhaled harshly right after you heard a knock on your apartment door. You are really not in the mood for having visitors but you get up anyway just in case it’s something important. You see Wanda through the peeping hole.

You stayed quiet behind the door and decided not to answer it. You hear another knock and Wanda softly talks. “Detka, it’s me. Please open the door for me.” You can’t deny that you miss her with every bit in you. As much as you want to let her in, you are still hurt with what happened.

“I know you are in there, y/n. It’s your day off today and I see your car too.” Wanda paused for a little bit and waited for your answer.

Your heart feels heavier from hearing her tone that sounds sadder second by second.

“Y/n, sweetheart, please. I need to tell you that I’m sorry, truly sorry. I miss you. Please let me talk with you.” Wanda’s voice turns shakier while trying to keep herself together from all the sadness and pain she is having from her guilt. You see her through the peeping hole one more time only to find her wiping her tears. It was just a little tear but you know it’s a lot for her.

Wanda heard you finally unlock the door and it’s slowly ajar. She sees you turn your back on her as she walks in. Sparky runs to you and you pet him for a little bit. Wanda waits for you to turn around and see her.

A smile instantly shows up at the same time with her emotional tears as soon as you turn around. “Hi, my love.” she pauses her words once more. The pet name she just called you with

“Hi.. you–uh you lost your spare key?” you ask. You really want to hug Wanda, you don’t like seeing her green eyes get all teary but you hope your small sarcastic question will hide it.

“No, I still have it but I just didn’t want to just walk in here unannounced just in case you– you don’t want to see me.” Wanda slowly lets out her understanding answer. Her eyes search for yours.

You always love how Wanda is so thoughtful and respect your personal space too. It hits you too, some guilt slowly shows up.

Wanda notices the box that you were unpacking. Her lips slightly open in surprise.

“Are you unpacking the boxes?” she asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, I have to.” you start to make yourself look busy to avoid more eye contact with her. You unpack more boxes and walk around just like Wanda did.

Wanda’s reaction is different from yours. She quickly grabs your wrist gently but firm enough to catch your attention.

“Y/n, I have something to say. Can you look at me please?”

Her sad tone finally drags your eyes to her glossy green eyes. "Okay, Wanda. I'm all ears." you stated.

Wanda takes a deep breath slowly as she holds your hands before she starts her ramble. “I’m so sorry for how I was and what I said that day. My–my anxiety and overthinking got the best of me. I should’ve talked about it with you in a better way. I promise I will work on my overthinking and will talk about it together.” She pauses while her thumbs rub the back of your hands.

“Days without you really got me thinking. It’s so quiet without you, your voice, even your texts and I don’t like it. I miss us. I miss doing a lot of things with you, I miss your jokes and laugh. I even miss waiting for you to get ready while I’m worried that we are getting late.” Wanda lets out an awkward little chuckle at the end to distract you from noticing her being vulnerable.

You stand closer to her as she continues. “I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I really don’t like my girlfriend being away from me too long. I promise I’ll work on my bad habits.” Wanda runs her perfect looking fingers through your hair gently.

Your heart melts under her touches and who can say know to those gorgeous eyes? Not even you.

“Apology accepted. I will always give you chances because you always do the same to me.” you giggle a little. You put both hands on her shoulders right away after she pulls you closer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wanda”

Both of you instantly tangle in a long soft kiss. You miss her sweet lips touching yours. You and Wanda let out relieved sighs in the kiss. She feels alive again having you so close to her. She doesn’t want to lose you anymore but you can feel that she stops the kiss. Wanda pulls her face away from you. She looks at you dearly.

“Did you notice Sparky’s new collar’s tag?” Wanda asked in a whisper.

“No, what is it?” you asked back but your curiosity doesn’t want to wait so you call him only to find him standing behind you.

You turn around to pick him up as you notice his new collar. "Aaw it's a key shape collar with I Love You engraved on it. That's so sweet. Ouh does it mean you want me to move in with you now?" You ask Wanda while giving Sparky some love and not paying attention to what your girlfriend is doing behind you. She chuckles nervously.

"Well, turn it around and check it out." Wanda gives you a clue and shortly after she hears you let out a surprised gasp.

Will you marry me?

It's engraved in the back of Sparky's collar. You quickly turn around only to find Wanda gets on one knee, holding an opened box with a ring in it.

"Malyshka, it has been a great year since you came to my life. Everything has turned so beautiful since then and when we were away that long, I felt devastated. I don't want us to be like that anymore. I promise we will communicate better to work on our bad habits, problems and solve them together. I just want us to grow better and grow old together. I promise I will be a better wife than I was as your girlfriend. Will you marry me, Y/n Y/l/n?" Her eyes twinkle with hope and love for you.

Bubbles of joy burst in you and spread the thrill all over you. Your eyes and Wanda’s get teary at the same time as she sees you smile from ear to ear. You are speechless.

“Is that a yes? Say something please, y/n? Should I take that as a yes?” Row of questions line up out of her. Her hands are a little shaky. Your heart beats faster. You know you blush so hard because you can feel the rush in you. You nod eagerly. “Yes! Of course Yes!”

Both of you start to laugh in tears of happiness and Wanda puts the ring on your finger. You pull her up to hug and kiss her shortly after. Sparky barks and wags his tails. Excitedly licks your cheeks and Wanda’s in turns in the warmest group hug that always feels like home to you.

“Let’s come home, detka.”

“You are my home.” you replied and Wanda sealed your lips with more short loving kisses. Both of you smile in the kisses.

A/N: Welp, that's all from me today. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Follow me for more.

Cheerio!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @imdoingsortagay @marvelwoman-sugarbaby @frvny @fluffyprettykitty @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff au #marvel modern au #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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zh-lele · 1 year

Text

Playing Games

You didn't yet see my worth, so you try to play me. But I was so in love that I just got a little bit too complicated.

▪︎ Summary: A chaotic New Year's party makes you rethink the kind of relationship you've been having with Donghyuck for the past few months. He is a player, but you love the game.

▪︎ Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x female reader

▪︎ Genres: friends with benefits, smut, angst

▪︎ Word count: 7.4k (I'm so sorry.)

▪︎ Warnings: explicit sexual content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; profanity; substance consumption; toxic behavior. (Please let me know if I missed something.)

Listen to the playlist here. | Click to see Hyuck's moodboard.

Author's note: This is my secret santa gift for @neochan as part of the event hosted by @neowritingsnet . Hey Sam, I was your secret santa! Happy holidays and I hope you can enjoy the fic :) Didn't have the time to get it proof read so I'm really sorry about that.

Lolo.

1. Forget about it, forget about him

"How are you surviving the New Year's party?"

Your question takes Rina by surprise, since you see her get a little scared when she hears your voice from behind. But, seeing that it's only you, it doesn't take long for that beautiful smile that characterizes her to reappear.

"It's going really well, I think." She answers by returning her gaze to the front, where your group of friends is preparing for the main event of the night.

It's exactly two minutes to midnight. You know this not only because of the gigantic TV screen in the living room of the mansion—that has been broadcasting the countdown to the new year in different parts of the world since you arrived at the boys' house— but because you can also feel it in the air.

Aeri is helping Mia bring the glasses into the living room and set them ready for the cocktail party. Donghyuck is arguing with Jaemin because he's not helping Jisung with the Champagne bottles he's too scared to open. Chenle's laughter can be heard from the kitchen followed by some groans, and Mark telling him "it's not funny at all". You only find out what the mess is about when Jeno comes and lights up the room with his eye smile, telling the guys that Mark splashed his own eyes cutting the lime for the margaritas, and now he can't see anything.

You and Renjun share a cigarette on the balcony, now with Rina on your side.

"You know things are about to get weird, right?" Renjun asks the girl.

"Yeah, the other girls warned me you have this tradition going on," she starts. "No one leaves without a kiss from your New Year's parties." And her face flushes red as he finishes the sentence with his eyes locked on Donghyuck, who is finally pouring the champagne into the glasses with a smirk, looking as handsome as ever.

The action doesn't go unnoticed by you or Renjun, so you decide to push the new girl a little more. "You've got someone in mind?"

"Well…" She laughs, and without taking her eyes off him, she drops it: "I might go for Donghyuck."

The clock strikes midnight and the cheers are heard, both inside the mansion and outside in the street. As you approach inside to celebrate and drink the champagne together with your friends, you are surprised and intercepted by your friend Aeri, who plants a quick New Year's kiss on your lips before throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms and doing the same with him. You just laugh it off and empty the drink in your glass to set your eyes on a different pair meters away from you.

Rina had been the newest addition to the group, and obviously, before inviting her to the mansion and one of the chaotic New Year's Eve parties, someone had to warn her how things were. It was only fair that Rina was aware of an agreement made years ago between you and your friends: everyone gets at least one midnight kiss during the new year celebration. She was told just enough to try to survive the night.

The mansion is the boys' rented house and private studio. All of them have been making good amounts of money in the music industry lately, gaining popularity really fast, and it's a privilege that she isn't paying anymore to enter a party in the mansion.

It wasn't her fault that no one told her that something has been going on between you and Donghyuck for months, and that you were hoping that he wouldn't kiss anyone but you that night. When you didn't tell Rina anything as soon as she said she wanted to go for him, you were only waiting to test Donghyuck.

Because if you think about the situation, it was all his fault, honestly.

Everyone in your friend group knows Donghyuck and you have been exclusively seeing each other for months now. Your girl friends know very well he isn't afraid to fill your ears with sweet things and words of affection when you are alone. Yet, he won't show you around and would act like you're no more than friends when there's someone else.

You still don't know what his problem is, but you are growing sick and tired of crying for nights because he won't talk to you. Instead, he would have you thinking you did something wrong to upset him or that he doesn't care about you anymore, to then come and act like he didn't just ignore you for days. But you aren't going to take your anger on Rina.

You are going to do it on Donghyuck later, definitely.

Lee Donghyuck, or one of the most recognized and well paid r&b artists from this new movement of kids coming up in the industry, making some of the best music of the continent independently. But for the ones who know him privately, he’s just a kid wasting a lot of talent and potential, who's only got a big ton of pressure on his shoulders and stacks of money he doesn't know how to spend more than on parties, alcohol, and drugs.

He’s also the boy you've been chasing and trying to get with for years. And now that you have him, you can't lose him just like that.

If he kisses Rina right in front of you and everyone else when he refuses to do that with you, that's going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

The white lights go down until it is only the colored lights hanging from the tall ceiling, and the Christmas lights taped on the wall that illuminate the room very dimly. You can appreciate some of your best friends still exchanging their midnight kisses. You can also spot Jaemin in one corner pouring out one margarita after another, and Donghyuck with Rina huddled against the wall in the other corner of the room. The millisecond he makes eye contact with you and smiles all the way from there, then returning his attention to Rina is actually what sets you on fire. Not in the way you would want to, though.

You don't need to stay there to know Donghyuck's gonna try and play you dirty. And you won't give him the satisfaction of standing there alone, watching him kiss with someone else.

You should have listened to your friends when they told you over and over again that Donghyuck is and always will be a player, not worth all your tears. You should have also heard your other side of consciousness telling you "don't do it, don't go there." But it's too late to regret it when you take the cup from Jaemin's hands and drink all of its contents, then grab the bottle of tequila and Jaemin's hand and drag him with you to the kitchen.

You know Donghyuck like the palm of your hand. You could try and play his games too.

When you set the tequila bottle on the kitchen counter and sit yourself on it to grab Jaemin by the collar and put him between your parted legs, the mischief reaches his eyes and reflects on the smirk of his mouth.

"I feel like we're not here for more margaritas," he says looking into your eyes and placing his hands on your thighs.

You give the bottle one last swallow before confirming his suspicions.

"You're right. Happy New Year."

Kissing Jaemin has always been a pleasure, in every sense of the word. His kisses are as lazy as he is, and feel as full of affection as if you were in love with each other, which makes you think about how there is no doubt why everyone falls in love with him so easily.

His lips taste like salt and lime, and explore yours sweetly until he opens his way to the inside of your mouth. There, the salty taste is replaced by a sweetness that contrasts with the rest of his movements. His hands caress your legs, look to get you closer to his body, squeezing your thighs and butt and making you approach the edge of the counter, but never completely losing that calm that characterizes him. Jaemin is the perfect definition of a tease.

"Thought we wouldn't be doing this anymore." You feel the vibrations of his vocal chords under your lips that leave his neck wet with kisses. When you don't answer him, he cups your face separating you from his skin, and makes you look him in the eyes. "Aren't you and Hyuck together?"

Well, that's a hard question. Because it seems like it depends on the situation and the mood. When Donghyuck feels like treating you like his girlfriend, you really feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He's sweet, caring, and funny. He comes to your home to share dinner with your family and spend the night, and you do the same at his. He even let you spend the entire Christmas day at the mansion—and you know that's something reserved for the couples only. You had morning sex, breakfast together, opened presents, and even cuddled while watching movies until it was dark outside.

You could say you are together only when he's feeling like giving you his attention. The rest of the time, you only try to figure out his feelings: when he will disappear for an entire day, won't talk to you for a week or will get mad if you go partying without him, but then flirt with other girls right in front of you.

Following that line of thought:

"No, we are not together." You finally tell Jaemin.

He only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before moving closer to your ear to whisper. "That's a shame, because I think this would be much hotter if you were."

It sends a shiver down your spine and settles a strange feeling in your stomach at the same time. It's kind of frustrating, the way no matter how much you want to get Donghyuck out of your head and just have a good time with other boys, you can't get yourself to do it.

Donghyuck doesn't need to know, but it's not the first time you try forgetting you're mad at him with a little help from others. And that's the thing about it: that you only ever get to try, because the guilt takes over you despite how he has neglected and hurt you, and you end up going back to him over and over.

That unsettling feeling washes over you like a bucket of cold water, so you have to separate Jaemin from your lips before apologizing and rushing out of the kitchen to find your friends.

2. I think I wanna kiss you, right here in front of everybody

"You know what's your problem? You're always being too nice." Mia leans on the balcony railing with a joint between his lips, and stretches an open hand to you. The lighter lands on her palm and she's quickly lighting up the rolled paper, passing it to you after a couple of deep puffs.

"Well," you start exhaling the smoke. "That depends on who's saying it."

"You just need to fuck someone else, not letting remorse or sad feelings get in between. Just to know if you really wanna stop seeing Hyuck after it or not."

"But you don't understand," the lump in your throat can be noticed through your shaky voice, and the tears begin to threaten to fall from your eyes so Aeri—who has positioned herself in front of you and is covering you from the rest of the people inside the party—takes your hand and gives it a little comforting squeeze. "I've liked him for so long. I really, really only want to be with him."

"You really want to be with someone who's been making you cry for months now? I remember you having more sad than happy nights," Mia points out once again. You quickly dry your tears with your hands before they keep falling. "Even on fucking New Year's. New Year's party and you're crying over this dickhead." She says in disbelief.

"Must be some reaaally good dick if it got you this down bad."

The three of you manage to laugh at Aeri's comment, thankfully. You maintain the order of the round and pass the joint back to Aeri.

"It is," you confess, blowing out the smoke. "He really is that good."

"Does he at least make you cum?"

"Not all the time—"

"Then you have to leave him, sister." Mia interrupts. There's a smile on her face now that indicates she's just half-joking.

"But he's seriously so good!" You shake your head in frustration followed by an exasperated sigh. It's embarrassing to say it out loud, but your friends had known you for years, and they know that this talk and all the shed tears won't change a thing. "You know I'm not leaving him."

"Yeah, I know this conversation is fucking pointless." Mia's face is illuminated by the light from her cell phone when she takes it out ready to play one of her latest obsessions. Cats Café, a new game that locks her up in your bathroom for hours, playing seated on your toilet and leaving you and Aeri hanging out in the living room of your house, just the two of you during girls' nights. "Just please, try to keep in mind how bad you've had it the last few days the next time he tries to sugarcoat you with his words."

"You wouldn't be having such a bad time if you were going out with me, instead of him."

"Aeri, you literally have a boyfriend." You tell her with a roll of your eyes.

"And you literally took my midnight kiss in front of him, with no complains," she replies to you. "And Mark told me he wouldn't care if I ever wanna try something with a girl!"

"Wait," you observe Mia pause his game and look up at your other friend with furrowed eyebrows. "You mean as in a threesome?"

"Who's having a threesome?" Donghyuck asks throwing his arm around Aeri's shoulders, and taking the drink out of her hands to empty it down his throat.

"The three of us," she answers looking at Donghyuck with a smile, and doing a circular motion with her hand pointing at you, Mia, and herself.

His eyes open up in astonishment when you laugh hearing Aeri's words, but an amused smile takes over his face at the same time. "That's extremely unfair, don't you think?"

"Want me to film it for you? So you don’t miss out." You ask him in return.

"I'd rather film you and me, alone." He says in a teasing tone.

"Okaaaaaay," Mia gets up from her place to shove her phone down her jean pockets and starts walking back inside. "Can't a girl play Cats Café in peace without having to listen to you being some horny motherfuckers all the time?!"

"Go get fucked, Mia." Donghyuck tells your friend and you get to punch him in the arm when he comes to stand to your left, which gets him laughing and complaining.

Mia only points her middle finger at him and yells something like “I'll ask your brother.” Next thing you know, Mark has joined Aeri on the balcony after communicating that Mia and Jeno have, in fact, taken over his room to do God knows what, and you are lighting up the second joint of the night with Donghyuck standing very close to your side.

The four of you smoke in silence until there are only a few puffs left before it goes out. When the stub comes back to you, you light it again sure you'll be the one to finish it off.

Donghyuck watches you exhale the smoke from your lungs and then looks down at the joint between your fingers. He's not going to ask for it, so you raise your hand to the level of his mouth and position the end of it between his lips—which feel as soft as ever, and he leaves a little tempting kiss on your fingertips.

A few meters away from you the party is still going on. Sweaty bodies, blinding colored lights, and wet tongues that move to the rhythm of an ear-piercing song played by Renjun. He is a genius, the best of them all when it comes to producing music, and it shows in the way he makes you feel like your heart is gonna come out of your chest when he plays with the console.

It could be the music, the weed, the alcohol, the boy in front of you—who is looking into your eyes like you're the only one at the party, as if you were his favorite and he hadn't had multiple girls hitting on him all night—or a mix of all that, but you start to believe he got you hypnotized. You know you could have anyone else too, but it's never enough if they aren't Donghyuck.

He takes a hit making it burn until he hurts your fingers, so you have to move them away from his lips. However, the pain isn't enough to bring you back to reality, and a little touch on his lips doesn't calm the incessant desire you have to kiss him—it shows in the dilated pupils of your eyes that look for his gaze, in your agitated breathing, and in his sly smile as if he was reading all your thoughts.

What does it take to break Lee Donghyuck?

The tension can be felt in the air, so your friends are quick to leave the two of you alone in the balcony, maybe hoping you would sort your feelings out.

"Kiss me? Please, kiss me."

After throwing the end of the joint to the floor, he gently caresses your face with his nose and hugs your waist to get you closer, forcing you to cross your arms behind his neck.

You continue begging in his ear. "No more hiding, Hyuck."

His nose reaches your neck where you feel him plant a subtle wet kiss and then leave an intense bite. His teeth scraping your skin while his two hands squeeze your butt, drawing you firmly into his body. One last suck to your neck that you're sure will be leaving a mark, and then he's getting off you, staring down as if nothing just happened.

"Just came here to tell you we'll be leaving to Yangyang's."

Donghyuck lights up a cigarette and goes back inside without another word, probably hoping you'll go after him since that's what you've gotten him used to; you can't deny it.

You often feel like his babysitter and his mother at the same time: making sure that he won't make stupid decisions when he's out and intoxicated, that he won't miss any important schedules, that he can communicate himself better with his friends and family. You've been Donghyuck's unconditional support from the day you met, but since he's shown nothing in return it has started to feel like a burden. Like trying to make an already grown man grow. You know that it isn't your responsibility, though, and that he isn't likely to change for good.

You can't break Lee Donghyuck, but you still like to try.

3. Tell her sweet lies

A quick stop before heading to the after-party at Yangyang's has Donghyuck's car sitting in the McDonald's parking lot, while he and Rina order takeout after you said you were feeling extremely hungry. It's you and Mia waiting inside, sitting on the heated seats with music blasting from the stereo.

You've made sure to make the ride awkward enough for Rina after you saw her with Donghyuck, caressing the nape of his neck and hair and squeezing his thigh as he drove in front of her. You know it's not an idea that Donghyuck likes too much, but the anger caused by his rejection combined with the desinhibition caused by the weed has you making bad decisions.

Donghyuck has left his phone unlocked for you to be able to change the music while he's gone. So you take the opportunity to enter his text messages and look for you and Mia's names through the chats.

Multiple results from the times you have been mentioned appear instantly. Some are funny ones, some are the result of important conversations in your group chat, and others are part of the private chats between Donghyuck and some of the boys.

"Did you know Yangyang talks about you to Donghyuck?" You ask Mia with a smirk.

"Oh my god!" She rips the phone out of your hands before you can get to read what it's about. "You're not reading that out loud."

Her pupils narrow when she brings the light of the screen closer to his eyes, to read the conversations between her "best friend" and Donghyuck. You immediately think that there can't be anything wrong with it because of the smile that Mia can't contain while she scrolls down the screen.

Mia throws the phone back at you and hides her blushed face on her hands before you can make fun at her.

"What is it?" You ask laughing. “Are you ever gonna stop messing around with other boys and confess to him?”

"I think he likes me," she says now looking at you, her cheeks still red from the temperature.

"Yeah, I think so too. I think he fucks you for a reason."

"Shut up! What does it say about you?"

You laugh once more and grab the phone, making sure to touch the screen before it locks up. The first mention of your name is from a chat from tonight, in which Donghyuck asked you if you wanted him to pick you up to go to the mansion. A few more meaningless mentions in your private conversation with him here and there. Some pictures and messages that you exchange that there's no chance to reveal. Lastly, you find several mentions of you in a private chat with Jaemin, which makes you curious so you open it to read the full conversations.

"There's something off here," you tell Mia with a furrow of your brows.

A little bit of concern is shown in her voice after watching your expression. "Huh? What is it?"

"He's been talking to Jaemin… And Jaemin asked if we've fucked." You tell your friend without stopping from scrolling through Donghyuck's phone, a deeper frown taking over your face the more you read his conversations with Jaemin that involve you.

"What did Hyuck say?"

"'I fucked her so good she won't go looking for you or any other guy ever again.'" You read Donghyuck's reply to Jaemin out loud. So that means he knew about you and Jaemin all this time. "'She gets so desperate for me it makes me sick, you can't imagine how much she cums when she's riding me–"

"I think that's enough." Mia scratches the phone from your hands and blocks it to prevent you from reading any more texts. A short silence falls between the two of you before she's speaking again. "I saw them kiss at midnight."

"Who?"

"Donghyuck and Rina."

Disgust quickly takes over your face and you feel like throwing up, the hunger you felt earlier leaving your body in an instant. It's been too much in such a short period of time.

The atmosphere in the car becomes awkward once more, a heavy trap base being the only sound filling the space. You don't really want to turn to look at the backseat where Mia sits because your teary eyes would give you away. You have known her long enough to be sure she won't hesitate destroying Donghyuck's car with a bat this time if she ever sees you crying because of him, again. And once you finally have such a good and stable group of friends, you don't want to ruin it just because you wanted to get involved with one of them and it turned out wrong.

You also knew who you were messing with since the start, but you still decided to ignore everything that Hyuck is and fall into lust and believe in his promises.

"He also said he doesn't really like me."

"Now that's ridiculous." Mia lets out a scoff.

You shrug, "It's what it said. That I’m only a good fuck."

"Hyuck has been seeing you for months, and you are going to believe what a silly text message says?" You feel Mia place her torso between the two front seats to try to meet your gaze while questioning you. "You know Hyuck becomes an asshole when he's with Jaemin," she continues. "He would say whatever bullshit to try to look cool–"

"But we haven't been doing so well lately."

"He likes you," she still tries to reassure you.

"Mia, it's fine. I don't care." You cut her off, crossing your arms and sulking in the passenger's seat. That tense silence keeps falling between both of you until she decides to speak.

"You can be sad about it, you know, he was being an asshole." She tells you in a much calmer tone, placing a hand on your left shoulder.

"I said it's fine." You turn to look at her the moment Donghyuck makes it back to the car with Rina, and takes his seat behind the steering wheel, passing the bags of takeout to Mia and placing yours in the middle of the car. Your eyes never meet Mia or Rina though, falling on Donghyuck's subtle smile, and getting lost in his glazed up eyes until you decide to lie to yourself for the millionth time that night. "I don't like him anyway."

Donghyuck looks a little lost as his eyes start wondering from you to Mia after hearing that last sentence. "Who's this guy we don't like?" You only smile in return, and ask him to take you home because you are too tired and intoxicated. He's quick to comply with your request, answering in a sweet and even more intoxicating tone than every other substance you had that night. "Of course, baby."

The car ride is awfully quiet when Donghyuck drops Mia and Rina at Yangyang's and, after a weird exchange of looks between Hyuck and the boys, the two of you continue your way to your house.

The night has gone from bad to terribly bad, and you're not sure how much longer you can take. After reflecting on every conversation you had with your friends tonight, you finally decide to speak.

"I think we should quit it."

He stops the car at the door of your house and looks at you with a crooked eyebrow. "What?" The disgust is evident in the tone of his voice.

"I just–" you struggle to take the words out. You aren't sure if you should tell him how hurt it made you that he talks like that about you with his friends, without shame or respect for your privacy. You aren't sure if you can reproach him for having been with other girls when you have also done it, when he has made clear you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, and when you agreed on it. "I know we'll never be in a real relationship, but I don't think you're treating me right, okay?"

Donghyuck lets out a scoff and his hands fall off the steering wheel like dead-weight. An expression on his face that tells you he's already done with this conversation. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"That it feels like I'm a game to you? That you only want me around when your dick is in need or whatever?"

"I just spent like a hundred on food for you and your friends. Again, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"And I don't want your fucking food, okay? I don't care how much money you spend on me," you say looking at him with teary eyes at this point. "What if I just want a hug, a kiss, a little affection, huh? Just that you care for me all the time, you know?"

"Baby," Donghyuck looks for your hands and you let him intertwine your fingers over the middle of the car. "But I show you my affection all the time," he says with a sweeter tone now.

"But not in front of others," you shake your head. He squeezes your hands and his thumbs caress the back of your hands, making it even harder to contain all your emotions. "It's like you're scared of others finding out, like you're ashamed. When literally everyone knows we're seeing each other."

"We've kissed in front of others multiple times."

"Yeah, but all those times you've been drunk off your ass and high as a kite. Like I'm just a random girl for you to hook-up at parties."

Donghyuck bites his lower lip to contain a smile, and gets closer to you to speak in your ear. "What if I told you you make me nervous when I'm sober?"

"Get off, you're ridiculous."

"But you know you are the only one I really like."

That's what makes you stop fighting him to search for his eyes. You know it isn't the best option, that he always tricks you into thinking whatever he wants when he looks at you oh so sweetly, even if he makes no sense, but you are hoping to finally find the truth somehow.

"Some things tell me otherwise. Mia told me–"

"Your friends are lying to you, might be trying to fuck up what we have."

“She told me you kissed Rina.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “I swear I didn’t. Nothing happened between me and her.”

His gaze is cold and his lips a straight line devoid of emotion, while he still holds you by the arms preventing you from getting out of the car. And that sentence feels like it's enough to ruin all the good things you've been through together. He keeps lying, talking about your intimacies with his friends, ignoring your feelings, and pretending that he really cares about you.

You open the car door and get out to slam it again, pretty sure it might leave the lock damaged. Outside the temperature is very low despite the fact that it is about to dawn, the sky turning purple and slowly turning off the stars. So you rush to open the door of your house before freezing outside, but especially because you hear Donghyuck get out of the car too and call your name closer and closer, indicating that he has no intention of ending the talk yet.

4. She knows what I am, and she loves and evades what I am

"I'm staying over." He says making his way through your door, shutting it and blocking it once the two of you are inside.

"No you're not." The walk down to your room gets constantly interrupted by him trying to reach for you and stopping you from moving any more. He grabs your arms to get you to look at him, so when he finally makes you turn around and you see his face, you break down. "Fuck you, Donghyuck! I told you you're not staying."

"Yeah, I am. And I'mma fuck you silly."

"No you're fucking not."

"Gonna take all that anger out of you."

"Fuck you, asshole." You almost spit in his face trying to talk to him at his same height.

"Is that what you want?" He asks, grabbing your jaw with one hand and forcing you to keep the eye contact, the other hand placing you flush from his body. "Fuck you so good you don't even understand why you got so mad in the first place?"

Your eyes fall to his gripped teeth and to his lips, wet with spit from all the previous arguing looking more tempting than usual.

You have to admit that, if you really think about it, it didn't make much sense why you got so mad at him. He already made it clear to you that absolutely nothing happened between him and Rina or anyone else all night while you, instead, jumped to conclusions and went looking for unwarranted revenge.

Maybe you and Mia thought he was being an asshole and was making fun of you when, in reality, that isn't much like Hyuck. What if it really was just a stupid conversation between boys? What if it was his way of showing off, of presuming to Jaemin about your relationship because he felt proud of you?

Because if he supposedly gets as sick of you as he said in the text messages, then why would he decide to be with you again?

A gasp comes out from your open mouth when you feel his hand squeezing on your ass and pushing you even closer to him.

"I just want you to be honest with me." You reply in a whisper. The smile that gets over his features is wicked, and his left hand tightens his grip around your face one last time before he shoves you to the bed.

An airy laugh comes out of him. "Silly girl gets angry and if I fuck her she calms down."

He gets over you placing both hands on the sides of your head and looks into your eyes once more. But there's something different this time. His look is so soft and tender it makes you want to tear up a little. It might show, because Donghyuck pouts lightly before opening his mouth to swear to you: "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose."

It's hard to trust him. But it's also hard to believe he would dare lie to you while looking at you in the eyes that way. So you only grab his locks and pull to give him a kiss full of emotion. There's passion, there's anger, there's pain and there's so much obsession it could be mistaken for love.

His palm travels up and down from your sides, caressing and squeezing firmly, to your back under your top until he unties the straps and gets it out of the way. His fingers explore and touch all the newly exposed skin sending shivers down your spine. He kisses you back aggressively, making you pull on his hair like you know he likes and feeling him grow hard above you.

His hands start to undo the buttons of your jeans and he slides his fingers under it and over your skin, massaging your ass, grinding on you even more.

Small whimpers leave from you and mix with the sighs coming out from his mouth. You take a moment to remove your pants completely, tossing them to the side and quickly starting to get Donghyuck out of his.

When his hands move up again, he gets them under the straps of your panties and moves them down, freeing you from the fabric, parting your legs and giving your clit direct contact with his boxers.

It's always too easy when he's alone with you. He knows perfectly when to kiss you and where to touch you to make you want more of him—an expert of your body, always looking for you to have the best time.

Guilt takes over you for the second time tonight, remembering how selfish you were earlier when you went looking out for his friend, and then getting mad at him when Donghyuck has really been nothing but the sweetest when it's just the two of you.

What was the problem with keeping things private? What was your obsession with him showing you off? You never considered he’s a public figure and he might like his privacy, to keep things on the low because of his fans, the paparazzi and the media who’s never got anything nice to say about him and your friends.

When you get away from him all of a sudden, there's a remaining blush on his cheeks as his lustful but confused eyes follow you, until you get on the floor and land on your knees in between his legs. His pupils expand as you tug on his boxer, grab his semi-hard cock and lick the tip of it. As soon as you repeatedly run your tongue around it, you hear him groan deeply. Not much time passes until he is fully hard while you keep moving your hand along his dick, squeezing and passing your thumb over the tip making Donghyuck hiss, and he pushes your head down to make you wrap your mouth around him one more time.

"Fuuuck baby," he groans one more time before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you away.

You look at him with shiny eyes, your lips red and moisturized with his pre-cum. And because of the way his chest moves up and down from the heavy breathing and the look he's giving you, you think Donghyuck might come just at the sight of you.

He doesn't waste another second to attach your mouths in a desperate kiss, leading you to lay on top of the bed once again. His weight on your body maintains your back pressed against the mattress, and he makes room between your legs. You're sure he's more than ready for you, but you know he always wants to make sure you are fully ready for him. His digits tease your entry and you whine in desperation to just have him.

"Hyuck," you can't help but cry his name.

"What?" He asks as his fingers keep going in and out of you. The feeling of his lips on yours help you momentarily stop from moaning and complaining.

When he finally breaks the kiss to breathe, you manage to speak. "Quit teasing and fuck me."

He only grins at you and you can finally feel the head of his cock replacing his fingers in your pussy. But he doesn't push in yet. Instead, his fingers coated in your juices come in contact with your lips and somehow you know what he wants.

"Did you have fun playing the angry girlfriend with me?" He comes closer and whispers in your ear as you open your mouth and suck them for him. "Silly girl. Look at you, you are so beautiful." Donghyuck talks in between wet kisses that move from your cheeks to your neck. "How could you believe what your friends say?"

A moan escapes you—whether because of his actions or his words, it doesn't matter too much, because he slams his dick into you, taking away all the air from your lungs.

The oxygen only reaches your blood again once he slightly pulls off to bottom out immediately after, setting a steady pace. You are restricted from making any sounds, as his fingers are still on your mouth while he keeps pleasuring you, obliging you to suck and bite at them because he just feels too good.

Once again, you think every doubt you ever had about him before was dumb, as there isn't a possibility he would want to make you feel this good if he didn't like you at all.

His girth is perfectly adjustable to you and quick to form a knot on the low of your stomach. It would suddenly disappear when he completely pulls out of you and grabs your hips to turn you around, making you stand on your elbows and knees. With your head down on the mattress and ass up in the air, Donghyuck doesn't waste another second and gets inside you.

His thrusts are slow and deep, way too deep. This position allows him perfectly to play with your clit and to squeeze your breasts at the same time, quickly sending you over the edge in a minute, then stopping completely, then stimulating you to the limit over again.

When he finally gets his hands off your body completely, you start to accelerate the pace on your own, fucking yourself on his dick before Donghyuck interrupts suggesting you move to straddle him.

He's quick to get himself sitting with his back against the bed frame, then dragging you to sit comfortably on top of him. Hyuck rubs the head of his dick back and forth between your folds, reaching your clit repeatedly and spreading your wetness all over him, making you whine in the process.

"Hyuck, please." You are a panting mess on top of him, moving yourself to keep the friction stimulating you and sighing dreamily.

He lets you grind and stimulate your clit through his length for a bit, taking his shirt off in the process and going back to massaging your boobs. You whimper when he manages to sink you down on him without a warning, which makes you fall forward and rest the side of your head on his chest, your ear right above where his heart should be.

His arms embrace your body and press you against his chest that is warm, allowing you to hear the rhythm of his heart, slow and controlled, like you could find all the right answers by just listening to it.

"I would make love to you," he whispers, "but you made me mad with your little scene."

"Hyuck, don't be like that." Your eyes fall shut trying to hold back the tears, when at the same time you desperately want to see his satisfied smile hearing you cry and moan his name as he rolls his hips, stretching your walls again and again without having started to move back and forth again. "Hyuck, fucking move!" You ask desperately, sitting and trying to bounce on him but his hands on your waist keep you in place, glued to his torturing hips.

A strong smack on your right ass cheek makes another filthy sound escape from your lips right before you hear his voice. "Talk to me nicely," he warned.

"Do that again."

Your plea makes him smile and move your ass up a bit to give you the first thrust after a while. His palm violently comes in contact with your cheek one more time and you fall even forward, hiding your face on his neck and whispering all the praises you could think of in his ear.

"That's it," he says as he continues hitting all the right spots inside you.

When his hand slides between your bodies and finds your clit you can't contain yourself anymore and fully sit on top of him to take a little bit of control, riding him while you chase your orgasm.

Even when you start begging for it over and over, he doesn't say a thing at your tireless plea. He knows you are once again at the verge of it by the way your inner walls clench around him. Instead, he keeps stimulating your clit while squeezing and sucking your boobs. Sitting in the middle of his bed with his dick buried inside you, he makes you work for it until you are coming all over him.

You keep moving, supporting yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and riding out your orgasm until you feel the cold air hit your nipples, wet with the warmth of Hyuck's mouth before he was moaning out his own orgasm.

"Love you," he places a kiss at the top of your head, and caresses you gently along your back down to your thighs. "You're so, so beautiful."

You open your eyes and take a look at your surroundings while still hiding your face on Donghyuck's neck. Things look blurry and you feel a little dizzy. You're breathing heavily, but not only because of the amazing angry-make up sex you two just had. You're coming back to your senses, and your chest hurts and your eyes sting from holding on the tears; it's everything that happened this night taking over you all at once.

A sip from your nose is what gives you away and makes Donghyuck laugh.

"Aw, baby," he says with a squeeze on your asscheek. "Fucked you so good I got you crying?" Donghyuck takes your face in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. His thumbs wipe away the thick tears that fall down your cheeks with care, and he kisses the pout on your lips over and over again, until they form a straight line. "Shh, it's okay baby. I know you didn't mean to get mad at me."

You shake your head and open your mouth, determined to speak, to tell him that things can no longer work like this, but you are interrupted by his lips and his hands making you start to move again on his dick, still buried deep inside you.

"I love you," he repeats in between kisses, and you moan. "I love you. Happy New Year."

And this time you shake your head in agreement, up and down in the same way that Donghyuck starts to move your body on him, hoping he would just shut up and stop lying for once. But you try to convince yourself that if you do it all again, that if you choose to keep seeing him, there will be just lust. No playing games, no believing in promises, no loving him, but lust. Because you can't let him go just like that.

Happy holidays everyone! If you liked this fic, please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated.

#haechan smut #nct smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream smut #neosecretsanta #zh-lele #playing games

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harryscherrypie · 1 year

Text

I'm dating your boss, surprise

CEO!Harry Styles x fem!reader

summary - You and Harry go to his work event, where you meet your cheating ex-boyfriend Adam. Coincidentally, you are dating the head of the company he has been working at.

warnings - mentions of violence,harassment , mentions of cheating, fluff, angst

wordcount - 2,8k

a/n - CEO Harry fics have my heart so I finally got around to writing one, so enjoy.

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"Are you ready, my love?" Harry called from your walk-in closet and you rolled your eyes at his impatience. On the other hand, you could understand it. This was the first time you were going to be in public at one of Harry's work parties. He has always been the center of attention as the CEO of the company and you knew it wouldn't be any different this time around, especially with this being the first time in the history of the company he was going to have his partner accompany him.

You've only been dating for around 8 months, but it has already been one of the best relationships you've ever been in. You got together completely by accident when you bumped into him in the lobby of his firm about two and a half years ago. You were very distressed, because you caught your boyfriend of 3 years, Adam, cheating on you with one of his colleagues. Adam has worked at Pleasing for at least 4 years as an accountant in the financial department.

You were very shocked and Harry helped you through the panic attack you were on the verge of. He kindly took you to the coffee shop on the other side of the street where you sat in the corner, letting you calm down and actually realize what had happened to you. You stayed there for over an hour, sipping on your respective teas as you told Harry everything that had happened in the last few hours.

He was angry. He hated the thought of cheating and everyone who would do so was a scumbag in his eyes. He didn't want someone like that working for him, but you convinced him to not fire your now ex-boyfriend.

Soon after, he left you in the coffee shop, because he had to get to a very important meeting with the board of directors. He wrote his number on a clean napkin and handed it to you, saying that you should catch up sometime. With that, he left and handed the barista a hundred-pound bill.

The first few weeks after, you didn't have any contact with him. You were too busy packing your things from his flat and moving in with your best friend Rachel. On the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about Harry. About the coffee shop, and about the first time you've ever met.

The coffee shop conversation wasn't the first time you talked to him. You briefly talked at one of the company's galas about two years ago when your then-boyfriend left you on the sidelines of the dance floor because he went out for a cigarette with some of his buddies. You sipped on your fancy champagne, careful not to smear your lipstick too much. A soft song started playing and you saw a figure in the corner of your eye. You quickly recognized the CEO of the company and assumed he was taking another glass of champagne from the waiter who was permanently situated on the spot behind you. Instead, you heard him clear his throat and reach his empty hand out for you, asking if you would like to dance, charmingly.

You knew your boyfriend would kill you if you didn't dance with the boss of his boss of his boss and didn't talk to him about your boyfriend, so you agreed and he quickly led you to the middle of the room. He was a wonderful dancer. He effortlessly led you through the dance, not stumbling even once.

You made small talk, mainly about your boyfriend's position in his company, but also about the gala and if you liked the music and the decorations. You went on a rant about the beautiful contrast of the main colors of the event, your eyes sparkling with happiness. As an artist, colors were always very important to you and made everything more pleasurable, especially if they were put into a good combination. Harry listened to you, looking you in the eyes as you quickly switched from dancing to just swaying to the tune of the music.

Of course, your boyfriend had to come in and ruin the nice conversation when he pulled you away and told you you were going to a pub with his friends at that very moment. You quickly said your goodbye to Harry as Adam pulled you outside of the gorgeous room.

When you were settled into Rachel's apartment, you finally had a little bit of time for yourself. As you lay on the couch, waiting for Rachel's late shift to end so you could go out and eat somewhere, you remembered the napkin with Harry's number written on it. Looking back at the situation, you were quite a handful. You decided to give him a call and invite him somewhere out for tea, for which you would pay this time around.

You slowly typed the phone number in, checking each number at least 3 times before you took a deep breath and hit the call button.

The phone rang a few times before Harry's voice rang through into your ears. He sounded very professional, introducing himself and asking if he could help you with anything. You introduced yourself, nervously playing with the strings of your hoodie.

His tone suddenly changed into a lighter one, very similar to the one he used when he was trying to calm you down from your almost panic attack. You invited him out for a cup of tea, as a thank-you for everything he had done for you the last time, and he agreed.

That was almost three and a half years ago. You didn't get together instantly, mainly because you still needed to get over Adam and get your mental health in check after the incident, no matter how much you already liked Harry. You were friends for more than a year before kissing him on the balcony of the club where he was celebrating his 32nd birthday.

You made your relationship official just a day after the party with a bad hangover and messy hair, sipping on a shared protein shake in his kitchen.

"Don't be impatient, perfection takes time," you called back as you poked your tongue out to concentrate on making a symmetrical eyeliner on your left eye.

"But you already are perfect," he called out, even closer to the door than before.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Styles," you smiled and closed the eyeliner. You sprayed a fixation spray on your face, grimacing a bit when a tiny bit of it got on your tongue somehow.

"Close your eyes, I'm coming out,"

You opened the door and immediately saw Harry sitting on the bed with his head in his palms. You fixed your silk bathrobe a tiny bit and took a deep breath.

"Okay, you can look," Harry swiftly looked up, his mouth opening up slightly as he looked at you.

"My beautiful, beautiful girl, how did I get so lucky to have you in my life?" He whispered and pulled you to sit on his lap. Your face heated up as you looked away, feeling bashful from the praise.

"I'm the one asking myself that, hot and rich, what else could I want?" You teased and he grinned.

"Let's get you into the dress, my love, we need to leave soon," he whispered against the skin of your cheek and pecked your lips a few times. You reveled in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you before you stood up and moved into the walk-in closet, where your dress was already hanging in the dust cover. Harry had it made especially for you, to match his suit.

The work gala this year was moved from Christmas to the end of October, because of the 8th anniversary of the company. The theme was flowers. Very simple, very straightforward theme that the two of you agreed on after you've seen the most fitting dress on Instagram, made by your favorite up-and-rising fashion designer. Harry announced the theme to the director's board when you got in touch with the designer, and she confirmed that she could make the dress for you, and also design a matching suit for Harry.

You took a few moments admiring the dress from afar before Harry pinched your arm in warning as if to say 'hurry up'. You shooed him out of the closet and almost waltzed to the dress, excited to wear the masterpiece.

"Come and zip my dress up please," you called out. You didn't have to ask twice because just a few seconds later, Harry was already in the room, his fingertips dancing over the exposed skin of your bare back.

"The color suits your skin so much, we picked out good," He kissed the skin of your neck, making a pleasant shiver run through your spine.

Harry zipped up your dress and smoothed it over before he walked to your front and kissed you passionately, taking your breath away.

"I'm so excited for when we get back, gonna rip this dress off of you," he groaned and kissed your lips a few more times.

His phone on a nightstand chimed in.

"The driver's here, let's go, or we'll be late," he ushered you and you nodded, grabbing your heels and walking out of the bedroom, hooking your fingers with Harry's.

The drive there wasn't long. You were traveling from Harry's city penthouse, so it took you only about 20 minutes to get to the museum. You were glad you talked him into getting ready in his apartment. He wanted to get ready back home in his estate out of the city and if you were to travel from there, you would be in the car for almost an hour and a half.

You watched the beautiful lights of the city flash by behind the window as you listened to Harry speak to one of the organizers on the phone about the last-minute details.

"So, everything is ready, and people are starting to come in," he informed you when he hung up. You scooted closer to him and snuggled into his side.

"I'm very excited, but nervous also, I don't think I'm fully ready to face Adam," you nervously fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Harry grabbed your hands and brought them up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on both of them.

"You don't have to be nervous, I will be there with you the entire time, if you feel uncomfortable at any point in the evening just say a word and we will leave, I promise," he assured you.

"What did I do to deserve you? I must've done something very, very good," you smiled and pressed your lips against his in a feather-light kiss. The movement of the stopping car made you pull away from each other.

"Is my lipstick okay? Isn't it smudged or something?" You asked, trying to check it in your reflection in the glass of the window.

"You look perfect, don't worry," he pecked your lips once more before he fixed the cuffs on his suit and took a deep breath.

"Come on, I need to make a speech in about 10 minutes," he ushered you.

He opened the door on his side and stepped out of the car into the chilly air of the parking lot before he walked to your side and opened up the door for you, offering his hand for you to take.

"Thank you, kind sir," you smiled at him.

"My pleasure," he grinned before you walked towards the main entrance of the historic building.

You could feel everyone's eyes staring at the two of you as you descended the staircase toward the dance floor. This was the same building you met at the first time. The company galas happened here every single year, courtesy of Harry's widespread contacts all over the city. You looked around the beautifully decorated ballroom, taking in the magical atmosphere.

"Do you like it?" Harry whispered into your ear as you walked down the last few steps.

"It looks beautiful, they've really outdone themselves." you admired the decorations and squeezed Harry's hand discreetly.

"I'm glad you like it, all of this is for you, and all of the future ones will be as well," he kissed your cheek lightly and pulled back from you.

He was immediately swarmed by a group of his colleagues, praising him for the wonderful job he had done at organizing the event.

"Oh I wish that was me but actually, it was my lovely girlfriend over here, (y/n)," he announced proudly and switched you to stand next to him and not behind him, where you stationed yourself before.

"Oh, um, hi," you waved shyly at the group of people around you, and a chorus of 'Hi's' and 'Nice to meet you's rang out.

"Well, the missus is more skilled is more skilled at this than you have ever been Styles," A woman to your left teased and Harry laughed out loudly.

"I s'pose you're right Heather, she truly is a godsend," he squeezed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"Now, I would love to chat some more, but I have to give the welcoming speech, so I, unfortunately, have to stop the conversation here," He smiled politely and said his goodbyes before he pulled you away from the group to a duo of women standing nervously a few meters away from you.

"Mr.Styles, we need you to make the speech now, you were supposed to start 2 minutes ago," One of them nervously rambled as the other one vigorously nodded while she scribbled down something on the paper she was holding on a board.

"Lead the way then," he charmingly smiled.

"Wait for me here, I will be back in a few minutes, we can dance then," he kissed your forehead lovingly and slipped away after the women.

As you waited for Harry to make his appearance, a tap on the shoulder startled you.

"(y/n)?" A familiar voice sounded from behind you.

"Adam," You awkwardly smiled at him and took a step back, trying to distance yourself from him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, clearly stunned.

"None of your business Adam," you snapped and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling cold and uncomfortable.

"Let's talk, somewhere private," he grabbed your arm roughly. You desperately tried to tear away from his tight hold.

"Adam, let me go," you tearfully demanded but he only shook his head, tugging you towards him.

"It's alright honey, just a little conversation won't hurt," he mumbled as he tugged even more.

The whole room erupted in an applause which probably meant that Harry came out to give his speech.

The shock you were in froze you. You stopped fighting against Adam's hold and let him lead you from the room.

You didn't know where you were, the tears obscuring your eyes. The world around you went quiet and the only sound you heard was the echo of Adam's steps. You were probably in a hall.

"(y/n) listen to me," he grabbed you by the shoulders and made you look at him.

"Baby I can't live without you, you have to take me back, my life lost all of its meaning when you left me," He begged.

His words made you see red. How dare he say this? After what he had put you through, after the hurt he had caused you, he had the nerve to say you hurt him. You pushed him back, making him stumble as you dabbed your tears away.

"How dare you!" you called out shocking Adam.

"You cheat on me, you hurt me, you neglect me throughout all our relationship because of your work, but at the end of the day I'm the bad one?" You continued to pour your frustration out at him.

"(y/n) baby, that didn't happen, she pushed herself on me, you don't remember what you saw," he begged you.

You opened your mouth to say something when the door behind you opened up and a sound of hurried steps rang through the empty hallway.

"(y/n)?" Harry called into the empty hallway.

"Here," you called back and quickly moved away from Adam towards Harry.

"What the fuck is happening here, are we having a problem?" Harry's voice boomed through the hallway, making you immediately relax, knowing he is finally with you.

"Um, nothing sir, we were just talking, nothing is wrong," Adam stuttered through the sentence as he straightened his posture to look just slightly bit taller.

"Sweet girl is that true?" He smirked down as he tugged you into his side, kissing the top of your forehead.

"Wha-what is happening?" Adam asked, confused by the sight in front of him.

"I'm dating your boss Adam, and have been for the last few months, I finally found someone who treats me right," you snapped back at him.

"Let's go back, I want to dance," You looked up at Harry, completely ignoring Adam's presence.

"As you wish my dear," he kissed your forehead and took your hand in his, starting to lead you from your ex-boyfriend.

"Oh, and one thing Adam," Harry called back.

"You're fired,"

----

I hope you liked this one guys, I had fun writing this. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated and ideas for fics are welcomed so if you have anything, please let me know.

Thank you for reading, love you <3

#fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #my writing #ceo harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #fanfic

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suzena · 10 months

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Complete Dead Apple Explanation

Or: “The Ultimate Guide to Dead Apple”.

Warning: this is a long post! I’m not kidding, I worked on this for three months. There is a TL;DR at the end but it will only briefly cover the most important points.

I see posts about Dead Apple not being understood far too often and so I’m introducing: this explanation! I do want to preface this by saying that I can completely understand that this movie can be confusing. Or, as Fyodor said it:

But, as someone who has seen it many times, I’m here to shed some light on it! Hopefully after this post it’ll all make a bit more sense, and you’ll at least have different questions.

If you haven’t watched the movie yet and are wondering when to watch it, the story officially takes place between season two and three, though you’ll be able to watch season three with no issues if you haven’t watched the movie. Please do note that this post will contain light spoilers for the plot after season two, so don’t read it if you haven’t at least finished catching up to the anime.

I’ll try not to summarize the movie, but instead explain it. That means that this post does not replace the movie, but instead tries to elaborate upon it and tries to place it in the larger plot. Most of the early movie is therefore ignored, but please do not hesitate to ask if you have extra questions, comments, different interpretations or you want me to go into more detail about something. I may not know everything, but I’m always down to talk about this movie!

Alright, with all of that out of the way…

The Dragon Head Conflict

We’ll start at the beginning, which is to say, we’ll start at the prologue, which can be found as a permanent event in Mayoi (and also as a part of the Dead Apple manga). This is not technically needed to understand most of the movie, but it does give some context that will make it a little easier, since this is where it all starts.

The Dragon Head Conflict, sometimes also translated as the Ryuuzu Conflict, is (as the movie states) the largest conflict in the history of Yokohama’s underworld. It took place six years ago, and originally was about five hundred billion yen an ability user left behind after they died, which various organizations were very interested in. It lasted for a total of 88 days, and involved conflict between eight different underworld organizations, including among others the Port Mafia, Gelhart Security Service/GSS (from Fifteen) and Takasekai (also from Fifteen).

Now as you can imagine, the government isn’t super stoked that gangs are shooting each other up all night and leaving corpses everywhere, to the point where the sidewalk is torn up from the bullet holes. To try to combat this, they thought that they could best fight fire with fire, and let a strong ability user from outside Yokohama settle this conflict all at once.

This new ability user, known as the “White Qilin”, unfortunately doesn’t really care about ending the conflict and kills other strong ability users left and right just for the fun of it, contrary to what the government had hoped he would do. Whether they are uninvolved parties or Port Mafia executives, it doesn’t matter to this guy. The White Qilin also ends up taking the money the conflict was originally about, but that doesn’t stop his murder spree. In this way, the White Qilin gains control over the entire conflict pretty fast, making him the main target to eliminate in order to put a stop to the killings.

Dazai approaches this problem similarly as to how he did during the conflict of Stormbringer, with a group of ability users to overpower the lone individual, but gets his plan twisted on him and gets kidnapped instead. Naturally, he predicted this outcome, leaving a hint for Chuuya where he left a transmitter for a tracking device so that Chuuya could come rescue him.

This is then the first scene of the movie, where Dazai and Chuuya confront and defeat the White Qilin using Corruption, and the whole Dragon Head Conflict ends since the White Qilin is finally gone and all the money burned. This battle is so iconic in the underground circles that it gains them the name “Double Black”, or “Soukoku”.

A few small notes on the Dragon Head Conflict before we move on.

As can also be seen in the first scene of the movie, this is where Oda adopts all five of those kids you see during the Dark Age, which was also already stated in the Dark Age itself.

“I heard all about it, Odasaku. You’re raising five kids, huh? And not only that, they’re orphans from the Dragon’s Head Conflict.” ―Dazai, Dark Age

Also, ever wondered why the Port Mafia is the only major criminal organization in Yokohama? There actually used to be five in total but four of them completely perished during the Dragon Head Conflict. Another reason why Dazai & Chuuya ending the conflict is so impressive, since because of that the Port Mafia is the only one to even survive it at all.

Shibusawho?

As you’ve probably guessed by now, the “White Qilin”, also named “the Collector” in Dead Apple itself, are both different names for our main antagonist: Shibusawa Tatsuhiko. The government had good reason to believe Shibusawa would be able to stand against the entire Yokohama underground and come out on top: his ability.

Shibusawa’s ability, Draconia, creates a fog around him, which separates other ability users from their own ability and makes non-ability users disappear as long as the fog persists. When surrounded by this fog, ability users are confronted with this version of their ability that is split from themselves. If an ability user is to die within this fog, their ability will be added to Draconia’s collection room.

There is decent evidence that it takes a while before the fog activates, so the effect isn’t immediate. This can be seen with Chuuya, who makes very short contact with the fog before he lifts up the building that he shoves in the Dragon’s mouth, but it’s seen even more clearly with Atsushi and Kyouka at the start of the movie. They spend a small while running around Yokohama wondering why everyone is gone before they’re finally confronted with their abilities.

To some extent the separated abilities represent the inner conflict in an ability user. This can of course be clearly found in Atsushi and his shaky connection to the tiger, or in Kyouka who has Demon Snow which is the last remnant of her parents but also murdered them in front of her. But the clearest example of this in the movie is actually Kunikida, since there is a visible change between him and his ability.

The notebook of Kunikida’s ability does not read its usual “理想” (ideals), but instead now says “妥協” (compromise). For Kunikida, a person so tied to his ideals, this version of his ability is an “abomination” (his words, not mine), and thus a source of inner conflict, since it represents a side of Kunikida that he carries within him.

“A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.”―Dead Apple (light novel)

If ability users manage to defeat their abilities in a physical fight, and then also accept these parts of themselves for what they represent, they will regain their ability. For example, Atsushi does not immediately regain his ability after defeating the tiger because he does not completely accept that the tiger represents that he has killed a person. For Atsushi, a person who connects his entire reason of living to saving other people, this is nearly irreconcilable. The only reason he probably is able to get over it in the end is that the person he killed was actively torturing and trying to kill him, so Atsushi had to kill to survive.

Shibusawa, then, is dead. Chronologically, his murder is the earliest you see of him. Fyodor has told Shibusawa that Atsushi contains something that “guides the envy of all ability users”, so Shibusawa, who feels like he is missing something, seeks to take this by any means. This doesn’t work out too hot for him, and Atsushi kills him.

Now a fun thing happens. Since Shibusawa is the center of the fog at all times, so to speak, and he’s the keeper of the abilities that die in his fog, his ability is separated from himself and lives on, nearly indistinguishable from his original body. Only one downside to this: he completely loses his memories.

I can only assume the government steps in at this point to take this strong ability user in his vulnerable state, and then have him solve the Dragon Head Conflict not long after. He most likely also survived Chuuya’s Corruption by being an ability, and having ability crystals in his collection to fall back on and recover, as he also does in Dead Apple. However, all of that is just pure speculation.

After the Dragon Head Conflict, Shibusawa spends some years abroad, casually killing thousands of ability users for the same reason as during the Dragon Head Conflict: just playing around and trying to fill that hole of something that is missing inside of him. The Japanese government mostly does a spectacular and spectacularly unethical job of cleaning up after him, since they learned nothing from the Dragon Head Conflict and still think that they can control him to protect Japan should it ever be invaded by foreign ability users.

Eventually, when the timing is right, Shibusawa gets invited back to Japan by Dazai. At the same time he is told by Fyodor (can you see the manipulation happening on both sides?) that Dazai’s ability is the ultimate ability that will finally complete him, and so Shibusawa eagerly comes to Yokohama.

From here on out, as far as Shibusawa is concerned, it’s just a matter of covering the entire city in fog, killing Dazai and then taking his ability. Since Dazai cancels the fog itself with his ability, Shibusawa does need to kill him first, since the fog will work just fine on a corpse. Unfortunately, Shibusawa, however smart he is, is not in control of the plot in this movie. That control is left entirely to the combination of Dazai and Fyodor.

Intermezzo: Singularity Crash Course

Let’s do a lightning quick crash course on singularities before continuing, because you’re going to need that to understand what is happening in the next part. While Stormbringer was released after Dead Apple, I’m still going to be leaning heavily on and paraphrasing the information provided in that novel since it gives a really nice overview.

Abilities are bound to rules, just like everything else. No organisms other than humans, such as plants or monkeys, can possess an ability. Each human can only have a single ability, and when they die the ability disappears with them. Finally, there is a limit to the strength of any such ability.

But what if you wanted to go beyond that limit? What if you wanted to play with the natural laws of this world? What if you wanted to get really silly with it? Well, in that case, you can try your best at creating a singularity.

Singularities are defined as “the interaction of multiple abilities that develops into a higher-level phenomenon different from the original abilities”. This mostly exhibits itself in a massive release of energy, but rarely there are semi-stable versions of them. Singularities aren’t bound to conventional rules, and can be much more powerful for that exact reason.

As for creating singularities, there are two defined ways. The most reliable method is to have two contradicting abilities clash with each other. This leads to fun mental exercises, think “unstoppable force meets immovable object”, or, two ability users who can both see a few seconds into the future fighting to the death (sound familiar?). As a second method, an ability can also contradict itself, essentially causing the same result, but it’s a lot more finicky.

“Dead Apple”

The latter part of the movie revolves around exactly the creation of such a singularity, as all planned out by Fyodor, and accurately anticipated by Dazai. Let’s lay out all the layers of this.

Shibusawa is after Dazai’s ability. Meanwhile, Dazai is trying to stop the fog to save Yokohama. As for Fyodor, we’ll get to him in a second.

Dazai “teams up” with Fyodor and betrays Shibusawa to put a stop to the fog. The idea of this is that Fyodor combines two abilities from Shibusawa’s collection, which Dazai can’t do himself without canceling them: the ability to pull abilities in a surrounding area close, and the ability to merge abilities together. When these two are merged, together they create an ability that will absorb Shibusawa’s entire collection, and then Dazai only has to touch this ability to effectively get rid of Shibusawa’s power source.

There is a specific reason why it has to happen like this, and Dazai just touching Shibusawa isn’t quite enough. Let’s mentally walk through the process if Dazai were to touch Shibusawa. The fog disappears for a bit (and Shibusawa with it, most likely), but Shibusawa now knows Dazai’s intentions. Fyodor will take Shibusawa’s side and now Dazai is at a large disadvantage. Ultimately, it doesn’t even solve the problem. We know from the Dragon Head Conflict that just destroying Shibusawa’s body is most likely not enough, and he will be able to resummon the fog (and his body) with time and energy. The problem needs to be cut off at the root, the ability crystals.

Unfortunately, Fyodor didn’t really team up with Dazai, instead choosing to team up with Shibusawa in order to get rid of Dazai. This is then where Shibusawa gets to kill Dazai, and discovers that wait, Dazai’s ability may not be what he’s seeking after all. However, the abilities are already merged, and Dazai’s ability joins them. This combines “the ability to merge” with “the ability to nullify”, which don’t exactly mix well. Does Dazai’s ability become part of the other ability? Does his ability nullify the merging ability before that can happen? It’s already part of it, but at the same time the merging can never happen. It’s contradictory, and thus a singularity is born.

Fyodor, meanwhile, hasn’t quite had his fill of betrayal yet, and decides to remind Shibusawa of what he is by killing him, reminding Shibusawa of his earlier death by Atsushi’s paw. All of this, killing Dazai and using his ability to create a singularity, having that power from the singularity then go into Shibusawa to create the Dragon, all of that was part of Fyodor’s plan. Shibusawa is only able to cover an entire city with fog because of the large amount of ability crystals he has collected, and so with enough power (like from a singularity) he can cover the entire world in this fog. Up until this point, neither Fyodor nor Shibusawa have seen a single ability user survive the fog, and thus it is the perfect method for getting rid of all ability users in the world, which does seem to be Fyodor’s end goal.

However, Chuuya swoops in and defeats the Dragon. Dazai was well prepared and had the antidote to the poison he was killed with hidden in his mouth, so he is alive and well again. That means that Dazai has his ability back and it cancels out the singularity space they both are in. It doesn’t completely get rid of the Dragon however, as some energy still lingers around the tower.

Fyodor is still on the scene, and uses a part of the merging crystal that he saved which was used earlier to create the singularity to merge Shibusawa with the singularity, giving Shibusawa a very anime transformation into his final form.

At this point, as a result of Shibusawa’s transformation, the fog turns red. If this red fog then covers the entire planet as Fyodor is hoping, and you were to watch it from space, it would look just like a poisonous red apple. The name of the movie therefore refers to this plan of using Shibusawa to rid the world of ability users.

This idea of poisonous apples in this movie comes from two different sources. From Fyodor’s side, it is referring to the apple Eve ate in the Bible, the original sin. For Fyodor, there is poetic irony in this: the world will end with the same sin as it began with. The crime is the punishment. On Dazai’s side, it refers to Snow White, who bit the poison apple and died (temporarily). He already talks about this to Oda when he is sixteen, vaguely implying he knew all of this was coming as soon as he met Shibusawa during the Dragon Head Conflict. Since Fyodor was already around at that time and also had a hand in enabling Shibusawa originally, this may indeed be planned out this far in advance, but it’s always hard to tell with these guys.

Then the kids take over the fight for the rest of the movie, and Atsushi, Akutagawa and Kyouka work together to defeat Shibusawa’s final form in the form of a long, epic final fight. Shibusawa is finally defeated and it all ends happily ever after.

The End.

Byakko VS The Dragon

…Or is it? You thought we covered the entire basic layer of the movie, so we’re done now, right? Think again! This is only where things start to become really interesting. Please note that this section will take some ideas that were already pointed out by other people, and build on those.

When looking at lore relevance of characters, Atsushi may not immediately spring to mind as one of the most important ones. Sure, he’s the protagonist of the main manga, but in comparison to the mystery surrounding Dazai or Fyodor he fades a little into the background.

Even in this post, an explanation about a movie that’s basically about Atsushi, I’m able to explain the basics of the movie without mentioning him much at all. And yet, the movie’s core conflict is not between Shibusawa, Dazai and Fyodor, but between Shibusawa and Atsushi.

While there isn’t a lot of information given about Shibusawa’s and Atsushi’s connection, what we do get is very interesting. Shibusawa is consistently referred to as a Dragon during Dead Apple, and while subtitles usually translate everything as “tiger”, Atsushi’s tiger is actually referred to as “Byakko” half of the time.

Now what is the difference between any good ol’ normal tiger and the Byakko, I hear you ask. The Byakko is much more than an ordinary tiger, since it is part of the 四神 (shijin/ shishin), the Four Guardians of the Four Compass Directions, which the Dragon is also a part of. What you essentially need to know from this is that the Byakko belongs to the same group of creatures as the Dragon, and that this solidifies Shibusawa’s status as Atsushi’s foil in this movie.

It also allows us to make a direct comparison between Shibusawa and Atsushi. The thing is, I have been lying to you a little bit. So far, I’ve been calling the Dragon a singularity. The truth is, it may not be. I know, I know, if it’s not a singularity, then what was that whole Dragon thing about?

Fyodor actually specifically tells us that the Dragon isn’t a singularity, but instead it’s “the true form of the chaos born from abilities”. (Note here that the Dead Apple light novel talks about Fyodor as if he is “reciting some Oracle”. Did Fyodor get this information from someone else?) Is this related to why Fyodor wants abilities gone from this world? Is there another layer to abilities and other creatures that BSD hasn’t even touched upon (think Lovecraft)? It’s hard to say at this point. All we can say is that the Dragon gets referred to as something else, and… that the Dragon is similar to the Byakko.

The tiger ability we see that got separated from Atsushi in the movie actually doesn’t follow the rules the other abilities do. It has a clearly defined face, and the red gem is not on its forehead. The gem found on the ability tiger is also red, which is in line with the other extracted abilities we see, but what gets extracted from Atsushi by Shibusawa is this blue cube. The weirdness continues in the flashback we see of Atsushi being tortured by Shibusawa.

We see Atsushi’s ability leave him, but then in a flash of self protection instinct, he partially transforms into the tiger, claws and all, while the blue gem is outside of his body. Earlier in the movie it is shown that if an ability is extracted from an ability user, they no longer have access to the powers of that ability. Then how is Atsushi able to use his tiger abilities here?

Granted, there is a bit of conflicting information within the movie about this, since during the final fight with Shibusawa this blue cube is once again extracted from Atsushi, but now he does lose his tiger powers. Could he resummon the tiger while not in possession of the cube if the situation is dire enough? Is this just a psychological thing because Atsushi is aware of it this time? Who can say. At any rate, this blue cube is connected deeply with Atsushi, but the clues given imply that it may not be the Byakko itself.

“That’s not an ability! That is me!”―Atsushi, reaching out to the blue cube in Dead Apple

To be honest, the movie does very little in explaining anything around Atsushi, instead raising more questions than answers. For that exact reason, the rest of this section will mostly be speculation about one possible angle on Atsushi’s ability that personally makes sense to me, but of course this is only one potential theory.

I do also want to add here that Atsushi personally goes through an arc in this movie from seeing the tiger as something separate to something that is intrinsically part of him. This can also be a reason for this final exclamation of “that’s me!” when he reaches out to the blue cube, but it doesn’t explain everything, which is why we explore an alternate possibility here.

My take on it is that the Byakko and this blue gem that get extracted from Atsushi are not the same thing. With the side note here being that they are probably deeply connected, but not the same regardless.

My reasoning for this is that everything Atsushi-related you see in Dead Apple makes a little more sense when you consider the Byakko and the blue cube as two separate entities. The Byakko’s gem is red, the cube is blue. The Byakko is framed as something separate from Atsushi, while he claims the cube is not an ability but he himself. Atsushi had access to the Byakko while the blue cube was outside of him. Shibusawa even makes a point of mentioning that the orphanage director, who correctly thought Atsushi was the tiger, had the wrong idea about Atsushi’s ability. The Byakko is definitely Atsushi’s ability, but this blue cube is… something else.

And yet, the tiger is also deeply connected to whatever this blue gem is. Currently, one theory that makes sense to me is that the tiger is an ability that can be passed on, just like Demon Snow, that has the specific task of protecting the power of this blue gem. So, a two in one deal. Atsushi also gets referred to as “the one holding the Byakko ability” by Ivan, which would be in line with the Byakko being an ability that can be passed on as needed. Shibusawa makes a similar statement, calling Atsushi “the one clad in the Byakko”. Atsushi also has issues controlling his ability before joining the ADA, just like Kyouka and Tsujimura, who both also inherited their abilities. I would love to further speculate on this, but there is so little information on anything relating to this, so anything further would be completely baseless.

However, there is one more different clue given to us by the movie. Namely, what this comparison to the Dragon means for Atsushi as the one holding the Byakko.

Almost in the same breath as Shibusawa is recounting Fyodor’s words about the Dragon being the chaos of all abilities, the holder of the Byakko also gets its own description about its true form: the one opposing all abilities.

This relates to what the blue cube may really be. What Atsushi does to Shibusawa in his final moments is what I essentially believe to be this blue cube’s true power: it completely unravels an ability. The blue power eats up everything supernatural about Shibusawa until only his natural skull is left.

If you think this sounds familiar, it kind of does! I cannot ignore the similarity to Dazai here, though I do have to point out that Dazai can only cancel out an ability, and this blue cube power seems to… completely erase the ability itself, leaving no trace of it. The similarity to Dazai is further found the moment Dazai dies and his ability leaves his body. At first, his ability is white and vaguely similar to the blue cube before deciding that nope, this is just barely not it.

I have a hard time connecting this to anything larger simply because the series does not give a lot of clues on this subject. How did abilities come to be? How is the Book related to that, since it is not an ability or borne from an ability? And how does Atsushi factor into this?

Shibusawa has been led to Atsushi since he believed Atsushi would grant him something special, something he had been looking for all this time. “That which every ability user desires.”

This is actually a familiar story! This is not the first time Fyodor has led someone to Atsushi with the premise that he would be able to lead them to what they were seeking. The first two seasons of the anime follow that specific idea, of Fitzgerald wanting Atsushi so he can lead him to the Book.

The tiger as the guide to the Book is something emphasized again and again. While in English it gets translated as “guide”, the original manga panel said “道標（タイガービートル）”, or, “guidepost (pronounced: tiger beetle, in English)”. While this is partially just a funny pun, it also once again points to the tiger specifically as a guide.

It did leave me to wonder about the absence of a certain scene in the series. Fyodor has been sending other people to Atsushi for the entire length of the series, but has never interacted with Atsushi himself. For someone who claims to be looking for the Book, and knows that Atsushi is somehow the guide to the Book, isn’t that a bit weird? Is there a reason Fyodor won’t interact with Atsushi himself? Fyodor knew about Atsushi way before he joined the ADA, so it’s not like Dazai is particularly standing in the way here.

Regardless, this factor that makes Atsushi so special may very well be this blue cube. How does the power to completely undo abilities lead to the Book? Who knows. We simply do not know enough about the Book or the origin of abilities to say more about this. Maybe the true power of the blue cube is something else entirely.

What does all of this mean? Where will it all lead? Only the future (Asagiri) can tell.

The Unexplained and Weird

Welcome to the section I’d fondly refer to as “a collection of things I have no explanation for”. There is plenty of that in this movie, but I do want to touch upon them since not being explainable as of currently does not necessarily mean that they aren’t important in the future. Also, not having an explanation for these things is driving me insane and I need to share in my suffering. Let’s go! :)

Let’s get the big thing out of the way first.

Mukurotoride, my friend, my enemy. For those unaware, Mukurotoride is the name of the large black tower that Shibusawa, Dazai and Fyodor were chilling in for most of the movie. The name gets translated as “Skull Fortress”, but the kanji used gives the name more of a “Dead Man’s Castle” feeling, since it refers to a person long since dead more than a skull. My problem with this tower is as follows: it doesn’t make any sense. Whatsoever.

Why is it there? Fifteen establishes it’s there seven years before the current timeline, so a year before Shibusawa dies. I would’ve accepted it if the tower was a weird side effect of Shibusawa dying or something, but the current facts point towards this tower not having anything to do with Shibusawa at all. It’s also very decayed. How long has it been there? Who put it there? Is it relevant that it’s right next to Suribachi? Or in the Yokohama foreign settlement? (Side note: foreign settlements have not been a thing since 1899. What’s up with Yokohama having a foreign settlement?) No one seems to know anything about this tower, not even in the Japanese community. And then in-universe, everyone also seems okay with this wildly out-of-place tower that looks like it’s made out of human bones being there in the middle of the city? It’s giving me Sky Casino vibes.

Okay, now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, we can talk about Fyodor’s ability.

I want to start this part by explaining my personal stance on the current Fyodor theories, since it influences how I talk about what is shown of his ability in Dead Apple. There are a bunch of theories about Fyodor having an insta-kill ability that only works on non-ability users. Personally, I don’t subscribe to this theory, and I have multiple reasons for this.

First, I don’t think we’ve ever seen Fyodor’s ability being used. At the end of Cannibalism a cop dies as soon as he touches Fyodor. In the manga abilities don’t have a special shine effect, but in the anime they do. However, in the anime there was no ability-shine here.

A stronger argument, perhaps, is that this happens right in front of Dazai, and Dazai immediately afterwards says he has no clue what Fyodor’s ability could be. He could be lying, of course, but since this is a common enemy he shares with Fitzgerald, who is the one asking him about Fyodor’s ability, I don’t see any reason for him to do so here. The whole murder reads a little bit like Fyodor just putting on a show for Dazai.

Finally, from a narrative viewpoint, killing with a touch is a little… useless? Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s convenient, I guess, when you’re a terrorist who seeks to exterminate part of the global population. But there are many ways to kill a person, and Fyodor has shown time after time that he doesn’t need to rely on an ability to murder people.

The strongest argument for the insta-kill ability in my opinion is Fyodor himself saying “this is my true ability” before killing that kid who was enslaved by Ace. However, this may also be part of something else that is going on with Fyodor, in a way that is perhaps very similar to Atsushi.

Alright. Whether you agree with that or not is up to you. To get back to the movie, there are a few interesting clues provided about Fyodor’s ability.

The first is of course Fyodor’s iconic line when his ability shows up on screen: “Crime and Punishment are close friends.” Everything he says after that point is already referring to Shibusawa again, so this is the only clue he himself is willing to offer up. If we consider that the abilities that get split from their users represent inner conflict, all he is saying here is that he apparently has no inner conflict. Does he know something else about the world? Does he just know who he is? Honestly, I don’t think we’ll get anywhere talking about Fyodor’s mental state.

Then there is the “I am Crime”, spoken by Fyodor holding the skull, and “I am Punishment”, spoken by his ability holding the apple. This one is slightly more straightforward. The ability user being the crime, and the ability the punishment. I’m not 100% sure if this is actually referring to Fyodor himself, or if it’s just about Shibusawa again. The skull (Shibusawa, an ability user) being the crime, and then the apple (covering the world with fog through Shibusawa’s ability, thus punishing ability users) being the punishment makes sense when viewed like this, but it could be that Fyodor is somehow also referring to himself during these lines.

Okay, if Fyodor is apparently not willing to open up, we can gather some more info just from what we can see instead of what we’re told. Most of what this part covers is taken from these excellent posts, but I’ll summarize it here for the sake of completion. Fyodor’s ability looks different compared to most other abilities. Most of the abilities shown in the movie have a blank face without any features, and have their gem on their forehead. The exception to that first part, interestingly enough, is Elise, Mori’s ability. This is most likely because she has physical form as an ability to begin with. Which then raises the question: does Fyodor’s ability also have a physical form outside of the fog? His ability looks identical, so that would imply some sort of clone ability. Next to this, Fyodor’s epithet is “The Conjurer”, which would be in line with him being able to create another copy of himself. (Though I should add here that the Japanese seems to just refer to him as “魔神”, which can be any type of evil spirit. However, if I’m not mistaken, the “Conjurer” should be from the official translation, but let me know if I’m mistaken on that.)

Finally, there is the position of the gem on Fyodor’s ability. Nearly all other abilities have their gem on their forehead, but for some reason Fyodor’s ability has his on his hand. The only other ability that has its gem not on its forehead is… the Byakko. I don’t have an explanation for this one, but the weirdness should be pointed out, since it’s another way in which Fyodor’s ability deviates from the others.

Next to the above, there are two other weird details I want to quickly touch upon.

First, the knives in the apples in the dish in Mukuroride, as well as the apples with a knife in them in general, as they are the theme of this movie. I believe this to be of a more metaphorical touch, so we won’t read too much into it, but it does have physical consequences that tie back to the title as well.

This exact shot is used four times throughout the movie, but with a varying amount of knives stuck in the apples. It starts with one, then two, then three. The room starts with just Dazai, then Shibusawa enters, then Fyodor. With each of them showing up, another knife appears in an apple. This is then a metaphor for these three being the instigators behind the Dead Apple incident. These knives in the apples can also be seen as their calling cards, as they were left both at the bar and at the scene of the crime where that agent was killed who was supposed to meet with Kunikida and Tanizaki.

In a later scene, it cuts again to this frame, but a knife and the skull has disappeared. These both get taken by Fyodor. The knife is used eventually to kill Shibusawa, but Shibusawa also took one of these knives to kill Dazai with. Either way, these knives that have been in these apples are used to murder, once again corroborating the connection between death and apples.

And finally, the relevance of the moon.

There are a few impressive shots of the moon in Dead Apple, where the moon is shown to be enormous, to the point where even the light novel points out how extraordinarily large it is. The novel also points out that the blue cube crystal holds a similarity to the moonlight. Just symbolism to show that it’s connected to Atsushi, or something more? The other side of the page in the main series will also only be written on the night… of the next full moon.

The Point of It All

I hear a lot of “Dead Apple doesn’t matter to the plot, just watch it for the Soukoku scenes and move on”. And while I do agree that it’s not mandatory viewing to understand the storyline that corresponds with season three onwards, I do think there is more to Dead Apple than most people give it credit for.

I always like to ask myself after reading a book or watching a movie: “Okay, so what was the point of that? What was I meant to take away from this?”

For example, in essence Stormbringer is a case study on singularities. Likewise, BEAST is a study into the limits of the Book, and all other side stories similarly have a message, however big or small.

So what does Dead Apple establish? Why bother?

I hope by now you agree that Dead Apple seems to be the introduction to explaining more as to what is so special about Atsushi. This seems to go deeper into chapter 28/29 of the manga, or season 2 episode 8 of the anime, where Atsushi also has some weird things going on with the tiger. What this exactly is, or where this seems to be going is unclear for now, but the Dead Apple definitely emphasizes Atsushi’s importance as well as the concept that there can be something more than just abilities.

In-universe, there are also reasons for this conflict to happen.

Most likely both Dazai and Fyodor knew the end result long before the conflict ever started. It’s their reunion in a way, so I suppose they are both seeing how the other’s condition is at the moment. They may even have gathered some intel somehow? It’s almost like collecting metadata, they won’t have a direct conversation about important things, but they try to collect information just by seeing how the other acts, to see if the other lies within prediction.

Aside from that, on Dazai’s side, except for foiling Fyodor’s plan and keeping Yokohama safe, the Shin Soukoku dynamic also gets strengthened, something Dazai is actively working on. On Fyodor’s side, next to giving the whole “eliminating all ability users” a good honest shot, he also gets to collect a lot of intel on the opposing side. For example, Fyodor in Dead Apple gets to see Corruption up close, which may potentially be relevant.

Finally, from a storytelling perspective, it sets up a lot for the third season, especially in character interactions and relationships, e.g. Atsushi & Akutagawa, Dazai & Chuuya, Kyouka, Fukuzawa & Mori. It should be noted that some characters literally have been intentionally regressed to make the ending make more impact. Whether that was a good decision or not is not why I’m here. You should just know that it’s intentional. You could chalk it up to Atsushi losing his ability impacting him and his behavior a lot, if you wanted to justify it somehow. The Order of the Clock Tower also gets its first anime appearance, showing Agatha Christie on screen, who will most likely play a more important role later on. Likewise, Dead Apple is the introduction to Fyodor as a villain, where you get to see him for more than just a few flashes.

Trivia and Fun Details

I suppose this section is skippable. But who doesn’t love trivia? This is by no means an exhaustive list of everything included in this movie, but rather an overview of what I personally caught, understood and thought relevant to include.

The “Dragon Head” in the Dragon Head Conflict refers to a Qilin, which are said to have similar heads to dragons. Since the conflict centered around the White Qilin, this is where that name comes from.

At some point Akutagawa and Kyouka use a mafia code to refer to a passageway. The code “0505” refers back to Atsushi’s birthday.

The symbol ᛟ found on the outfits of the Mukurotoride squad refers to inheritage, since Shibusawa inherited his own ability. More information about that here.

Dazai at some point meows at Fyodor. This is a very sassy way of telling Fyodor that he will personally eradicate all of Fyodor’s rats in Yokohama, including Fyodor himself. (The light novel calls it a “tedious” meow. Lmao.)

The music from Dead Apple seems to be recycled in season three of the anime. I’m guessing to save on budget?

Atsushi’s door that he eventually opens to unlock his hidden memories has its own music motif that shows up every time he thinks about Shibusawa, the fog or his memories associated with killing him. Try to pay attention to this, it’s really cool.

The motif of the door is also a tune that sounds a lot like the track named Dead Apple, further showing Atsushi’s relevance in his movie.

The lyrics of the soundtrack tell their own story. When the Dead Apple plot first takes off and Dazai is at bar Lupin, a song called My Prince plays telling of Snow White who is sleeping and waiting for her prince. However, it seems to be a spin on the classic, where indeed Snow White chose to knowingly bite the apple knowing it was poisoned, in much the same way as Dazai knew he was going to be poisoned in Dead Apple. Le Cheval Noir tells of how bored the singer is, and how nothing is special to them anymore. This plays during the scene where Dazai talks to Shibusawa, showing Shibusawa’s apathy towards everything. Mein Prinz, the song that plays as Dazai gets backstabbed, is nearly exactly the same song as My Prince, but now more dramatic and in German. This is a clue that Dazai saw this coming from before the Dead Apple conflict even started, and it’s now up to Chuuya again to save him. Overall, Dazai is leaning into the Snow White aesthetic hard in Dead Apple.

And finally, a list of everything the light novel insists refers to the theme of poisonous red apples: the red apples with the knives in them, apple suicide, the merged abilities producing a red sphere, the singularity that results from that in all its forms and the planet covered in red fog. If it’s red and spherical, you can just assume it should represent a deathly apple.

TD;DR

Recapped extremely briefly:

The Dragon Head Conflict introduces Shibusawa as a villain who was kept by the government but went off the rails. Shibusawa’s ability is a fog that splits ability users from their abilities. If ability users die, Shibusawa obtains their ability. Shibusawa died and inherited his own ability, also causing him to lose his memory. Therefore he wants to obtain Dazai's ability in order to gain what he feels he lacks. Dazai betrays Shibusawa together with Fyodor by combining abilities. However, Shibusawa kills Dazai first, adding Dazai's ability to the merged abilities creating a singularity. Fyodor kills Shibusawa, causing him to regain his memory of being previously killed by Atsushi. A dragon is created and defeated, and Fyodor's plan is revealed to be the covering of the entire planet in Shibusawa's fog, killing all ability users. This plan is foiled, but Atsushi is shown to have potentially another power next to his ability (the tiger). This power is possibly the ability to completely unravel abilities, and may be what makes Atsushi the guide to the Book. Mukurotoride is completely left unexplained in the movie, but there are clues given about Fyodor's ability that point away from an insta-kill ability, and more towards a clone type ability.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dead apple #dead apple #bsd analysis #bungou stray dogs analysis #posted this also on reddit but. i forgor to post it on here. whoopsie.#glad i got this all written out though #like a weight lifted from my shoulders #this is actually longer than the reddit version so rejoice! you're getting the premium version #here's to hoping it shows up in the tags! 🙏🏻#suzenanalysis

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Committed Extra II

Read the rest here: Committed

Based on this ask

I always suggest listening to this TikTok while reading this series but I think they remind me SO much of Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.

Warnings: 18+, smut, maybe a little more romantic-smut than smut-smut but anyways. Please ignore any continuity errors from previous parts. I couldn't find what I was looking for but it doesn't mean they don't exist. not suitable for Ramadan

~3.2k words

Harry had seen her in a bathing suit. He had seen her in skirts that were not suitable for school and a dress that showed off so much of her cleavage he wondered why she didn't just wear a bra instead. The idea of seeing her fully naked was far beyond what he could possibly imagine. It was every one of his fantasies and more.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So he was going to devour her body instead.

Sarah was going to Mitch’s, which meant her place was empty.

Harry didn’t have any clothes or anything, but he didn’t care. There were leftover items between himself and Mitch so as long as they didn’t have to attend a wedding there was an outfit for him the next day.

The car ride was silent. Unless he heard her heartbeat, which was extremely plausible because it was beating so hard. He held her hand, like he had ten thousand times before, but now it was different. Because Harry loved her. Like really loved her. The way she always dreamed of him loving her. Every time she remembered he loved her she squeezed his hand. It brought a smile to his face, and she swore the needle of the speedometer crept up another increment just to get them home faster.

The logistics of the night hadn’t dawned on her until they were in her apartment living room. Silent as Harry locked the door behind him. Nerves started to swim in her bloodstream. They had incredible chemistry, their friendship was solid, she had seen Harry at his worst—sick with the stomach bug that required a complete change of clothes, and he had seen her sweaty and covered with dirt after helping her dad in the backyard.

If the sex was bad, what would it say about their relationship?

It couldn’t be bad, right? She had waited so long to have Harry in her life in this capacity. Friendship was their opener. Saying I love you was the main setlist. Sex was just the encore. It would be fine.

Right?!

“Are y’okay, kitten?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re ‘bout t’squeeze m’fingers off m’hand,” she released the death grip she had on it. “Tell me,” he ordered, but his voice was soft.

“I’m so nervous.”

“Nervous?” He repeated.

“What if the sex is bad?”

He chuckled. “I highly doubt it will be bad,” he pulled her close, trapping her against his body, cupping the side of her face and kissing her as if he had kissed her in the very spot a thousand times before. “But m’not with you for the sex.”

“Well, I don’t know what you were up to while I was gone but I haven’t had sex in a year and a half so I would like it to be good,” she murmured.

His eyes scanned her face, searching for something. “Y’think I had sex with someone else while y’were gone?” He asked.

She rolled. “That’s what you took away from that?”

“Who did you sleep with a year and a half ago?” He asked ignoring her follow-up question.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Your body s’all mine now,” he said simply. But it set her skin aflame and her heart into a frantic beat that had her worrying she would need an ambulance on standby outside the building. “S’very much m’business,” he murmured.

“Harry,” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “That guy I went out with for like a month?”

“You slept with him?”

“We went out for a month, Harry.”

“But he was awful.”

“You thought everyone I dated was awful.”

“They were,” he said petulantly. She sighed.

“When did you last have sex?” She asked.

“I don’t know, three years ago?” It should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. This was his best friend and he didn’t care.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah right,” she snorted. “No really, I told you. You have to tell me.”

“M’not kidding kitten,” his voice was firm.

“You haven’t had sex in three years?” She still sounded incredulous, and Harry just stared at her waiting for it to click. Her lips parted. “How...why...?”

“When I realized I was in love with y’kitten,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want t’have sex.”

“So you were just going to...never have sex again?”

He shrugged again. “I hadn’t thought ‘bout it t’be honest.”

It was so quiet in the apartment, not even her rapid heartbeat made a sound. “What if it’s bad? What if I’m bad at it? What if it’s not—”

“Kitten,” he sighed and shook his head. “We were terrible at French, and we took three years of it together. We’ll practice. M’not in love with y’because of sex. Obviously—loved y’before sex was an option. M’in love with you because you’re m’favorite person. M’only person,” he reminded her. “I don’t care about sex.”

It should have relieved her but it didn’t. “I want it to be good,” she whispered.

“I do too, kitten. Trust me. But s’not the end all be all.”

Quiet, surrounded them again. “C’mon,” he hummed and tugged her toward the bedroom. “Jus’ say stop if y’need a minute,” he pulled her jacket off her shoulders and bent to slip her shoes off. She felt like Cinderella. He was so gentle and while she was slightly terrified it would suck and he would realize he hated her, it was normal. Harry getting ready to undress her was normal feeling. It was warm, gentle, and all things that were Harry. She felt safe and maybe finally she realized he was probably right. Sex wouldn’t be bad. “We don’t have t’do this tonight either, kitten.”

“No way, you’ve been waiting three years and I think my vibrator is dead so it’s going to have to work,” she explained.

He groaned quietly, began kissing the length of her neck and making the noise vibrate her skin and veins in a way that nearly made her knees give out. “Well, charge it, because I have t’see that,” his breath was hot on her skin making her dizzy.

They stood and kissed for at least three minutes, her hands tugging at the hair on the back of his head silently begging for him to get closer. It was so quiet in her room she was starting to feel uneasy. “Can we put on some music or something?” She whispered.

“Turn on your radio?” He suggested kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder, taking the collar of her shirt away from her neck.

She shook her head. “I downloaded your music onto a CD, and I love you, but I think fucking to the sound of you and our friends would be a little too much for me.”

He chuckled against her skin forgoing the kisses and pulled his phone from his pocket and set up a random playlist.

Harry’s mouth found hers again and he gently guided her back onto her bed. His fingers started to push her shirt up her torso. She pulled away from his mouth and stilled his hands. “What are you doing?” She asked quickly. He chuckled.

“Trying t’take your shirt off. Do y’want t’stop?”

She shook her head trying to shake the nerves away. “Sorry,” her cheeks reddened.

“S’okay,” he assured her. “S’new, s’gonna be a little weird probably,” he amended.

She swallowed. “I don’t really like my body,” she whispered. “I don’t really talk about that with you...” she reminded him.

She was wrong. She was so beautiful and in Harry’s eyes there wasn’t any reason for her to feel ashamed or insecure about her body. It was perfect, exactly as she was. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “M’gonna make y’feel beautiful or we’re never having sex again,” he chuckled.

She giggled despite herself and nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“M’sure,” he nodded firmly. “M’gonna take m’shirt off first, then.”

“No, don’t do that, that’s not fair,” she stopped his hands before he could tug it over his head. “I can’t take my shirt off after yours.”

He laughed a little louder this time and he kissed her sweetly, pecking at her lips over and over as he pulled away. “We can’t do this without being naked, kitten.”

She took a deep breath, sighed, and pulled her shirt over her head.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So, he was going to devour her body instead.

His gaze scanned her upper half for a few moments admiring the tiny little bow on the center of her bra right between her breasts. He kissed the swell of each one every so slightly spilling out of the cup. Her breath caught in her throat and Harry kissed upwards, bringing his lips back to hers and he pulled off his own shirt without any fanfare. Harry often walked around without a shirt, when at the pool or a beach he obviously didn’t wear a shirt. This she was used to. Her hands roamed his body and his skin felt so warm and so nice she couldn’t believe she thought this could be bad.

Harry couldn’t get her zipper down.

She giggled and Harry snorted. “Didn’t know y’were gonna wear a chastity belt, kitten.”

The clasp of her bracelet somehow managed to catch on to the fabric of his boxers a few moments later. “Jesus,” she sighed and brought her face so close to the fabric to work it free Harry turned a bright shade of red, cleared his throat and she realized her hand was resting on his dick to get it undone.

“Oops,” she whispered and pulled back. Harry chuckled softly. Every awkward moment was completed with more kisses that by the time Harry finished struggling with the clasp of her bra, (“I’ve never seen a bra with a snap like this!” “It’s comfier!”) There were only Harry’s boxers and her underwear between them.

“There’s no going back,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’go back,” his voice was thick with the promise.

“Me either,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he tilted her chin up from her staring at his chest. He brought her gaze back to his. “M’so in love with you. Always.”

She nodded. “I love you too,” she smiled.

He brought his mouth to cover hers again and a new feeling took over. The air was hotter, thicker, like they were moving through a pool of water. His lips never stopped kissing her, his tongue stroking softly against her lip as he did. It made her shiver. He curled closer to her, his hand reaching between them and skimming the outside of her panties. Her breath caught at the touch of his fingers on her suddenly aching center. Harry went back to kissing down her throat, over to the space where the curve of her shoulder met her neck. “Want t’make y’feel so good, kitten,” his voice was husky.

She already thought she was going to come undone from just his fingers touching the outside of her underwear and his throaty whisper. His fingers deftly pulled the fabric to the side, and he slid his finger down through the wetness that had accumulated between her leg. She shivered again and moaned softly again. He hadn’t even done anything. But his fingers were searching. Not for what she felt was aching for him most, but for her clit and he found it so quickly it made her cry out as he skillfully circled the pad of his finger on it not too hard but not too soft. “S’good, baby,” he hummed quietly and continued to kiss her. “You’re nice and wet, kitten. Who’s that for?”

“You,” her voice hardly carried through the whisper.

“Good,” he mumbled and dropped his finger lower, teasing her, because it felt like she was clenching, begging his finger to enter her.

Maybe if she had met Harry that night and hadn’t known his personality so well, she would have been shyer and wouldn’t have had the reaction she did. But part of her felt a little competitive and if he was going to tease her, she wasn’t going to let him enjoy it too much.

She pressed her hand to the outside of his boxers, feeling how hard he was and making him gasp at the touch. His hand stilled between her legs, and she tugged his boxers lower, so his dick escaped the fabric. He groaned as she wrapped her fingers around him. “Kitten,” he grunted into her skin, and she sighed as his fingers continued to circle her clit and search for something that she wasn’t sure Harry was going to find.

“Kitten, I haven’t had sex in three years,” he groaned.

“So...you better get inside me quick?” She suggested.

He groaned again. “Yes,” he nodded against her collarbone. “Please,” he almost whined. “Condom?” She nodded and pointed to her nightstand drawer.

She couldn’t disagree. Harry had double the time on her since her last intimate moment, but she wanted him so badly in her she thought if they waited any longer, she would cry. She removed her underwear and Harry sat up to remove his boxers.

Of course, she just finished feeling how big, hard, and long he was. But it was another thing entirely to see his length literally in the flesh. “Did y’jus’ gulp?”

Her cheeks warmed. “You’re...big,” she murmured.

He snorted putting the condom in place. “Y’know how t’give a guy an ego,” but she could see the way his cheeks pinked.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just...I want it,” she caught his gaze and as awkward as everything felt, looking into the pretty green eyes of her best friend, this was not. “I want everything with you.”

Harry’s gaze softened and he dropped his hips between her legs and caught her lips again. The sound of gentle music, their tangled breath, and the skin-to-skin contact was the only noise in the room. Harry reached between them again and slid the head of his cock along the wetness that pooled between her legs again. She moaned, loudly and without abandon. Harry grunted and pushed himself inside her.

It was like sliding the final puzzle piece together. They locked into a position that felt so right, so perfect, every bit of that awkwardness went away as quickly as it appeared. Harry groaned and buried his face in her neck again. It was his new favorite spot, tucked into the curve that smelled like her perfume and her hair. It was entirely her, and so perfect. “Fuck, kitten,” he grunted letting her have a minute to stretch to accommodate his body. It had been a while since there was a dick inside her and despite how wet Harry made her it didn’t help the ache that started as he settled perfectly between her thighs.

“Oh my God,” she whispered breathlessly. “Wow,” she mumbled.

Harry focused on breathing deeply so he wouldn’t burst the second one of them shifted. “We can jus’ stay like this,” he murmured. “Nothing else, for the rest of our lives.”

She kissed the side of his head and nodded. “Yes, please.”

He pulled back slightly, his body readjusted to the feeling and his gaze was hungry as he looked her in the eye. “You are my everything,” he whispered.

Her heart fluttered, as good as Harry’s body felt inside her, it was nothing in comparison to the way his words touched her. “I love you,” she whispered because everything else she thought to say seemed inadequate.

He smiled and brought his mouth to hers, kissed her deeply and started to move.

It felt fast and slow at the same time. A juxtaposition that she didn’t know was possible. Every time Harry’s hips pushed from hers to create a heavenly friction, she followed him begging for him to come back. It felt like being apart from him, even the inch he moved to make everything feel better, was too much. She thought if it felt any better, she would cry.

“Fuck,” he groaned pumping into her at a steady rhythm. Her hands searched his body, the length of his back, digging her nails into his hips to keep him close to her. His hands held her hips in place so he was able to provide the right leverage that angled his cock, so it hit every right spot.

“Baby,” she moaned into his neck and kissed his skin. He groaned again in response. He twisted her as if he had done it about a thousand times and suddenly, she was on top of him. Pressing her hands onto his chest and moving her hips up and down so she was gliding rhythmically up and down his length.

“This was a horrible idea,” he moaned. “M’gonna finish jus’ looking at you.”

She blushed, covered her face with one hand, and laughed lightly. “It feels so good,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave this bed.”

Harry brought her body close, one hand cupping the back of her neck and other slid down her back, gripping her butt. “We don’t have to,” his voice was hungry and he sealed his lips between hers.

“I’m going to...” she bit the inside of her lip and buried her face into his neck again. “Oh my God,” she moaned.

Harry answered her moan with his own again and met each of her thrusts with his hips. “S’good, kitten. Fuck,” he sighed. “Wanted this for so long,” he brought her mouth. “Can’t wait for you t’cum all over me and then do it all over again,” he groaned.

His voice made her ache all over. She was already aching. She wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life. Maybe longer if it was allowed.

She had a vibrator and she had sex enough times to know when she was going to have a good orgasm. But this was nothing like that.

This was so much more. The connection she felt to Harry the adoration and love she felt was more than any tingling, body shaking reaction she ever had when Harry thrusted into her just so. “Oh there, there, there,” she begged and dropped her face to his neck again with a heavy sigh.

“M’here, kitten,” he promised holding her close to him. “Right there,” he repeated thrusting as she rode through the toe-curling, body shaking orgasm. He nipped at her shoulder as he finished. Sighing heavily she dropped to him fully, her body warm, and he kissed her forehead. He brushed her hair down kissed her again. “Gotta get off, kitten,” he murmured.

“I already did,” she mumbled back.

He chuckled. “Just two minutes, kitten,” he assured her. “I love you,” he whispered. She sighed deeply, rolled to the side and let Harry get out of bed quickly. When he returned from the bathroom she was sprawled across the bed facedown. “You okay, m’love?” He asked.

She nodded. “I love you too, Harry.”

He chuckled, wrapping himself around her like a koala bear. “Good.”

“Wanna do it again?” She asked.

He laughed and kissed along her back. “Already?” He asked.

“Gotta make-up for all that lost time. And three years, Harry!”

He smiled against her skin. “Give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need. We have forever now.”

general taglist: general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

committed taglist: @tiaamberxx

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instantcaramel · 9 months

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A month ago I went to Amsterdam and visited all the filming locations for Ted Lasso‘s „Sunflowers“, so I figured I‘ll finally put something together here.

First of all, basically all the scenes involving the majority of the Richmond himbos were not shot on location - their epic discussion followed by pillow fight was filmed in an abandoned hotel in London. (Info per David Elsendoorn). The same would go for Ted & Beard‘s room. Scenes on the bus or outside it were also filmed in Richmond.

The only Greyhound who doesn‘t have his own larger plotline in the episode who was actually in Amsterdam was David Elsendoorn, because they did film the first scenes at Johan Cruijff (you know how to pronounce it now!) ArenA, the home of Ajax Amsterdam (which is also the one place I didn‘t have time to visit). They could have easily filmed that in London in a different stadium but I guess they didn‘t want to pass up the opportunity - and give David something to do on his home turf.

Edit: I visited 3 months later, so here‘s some pics from the ArenA, I couldn‘t find out which hallway they used/dressed up for the press interviews, but here‘s some shots from the stadium and the VIP lounge we see at the beginning.

So, first up is Roy & Jamie‘s adventure: Jamie takes him sightseeing against his will, and the first place they stop on is Magere Brug (Skinny Bridge). (They run up the street to that before.)

Edit thanks to @warriorhoneybee: Roy grabs Jamie’s wrist at Diamond Factory on Rokin and then tells him he can‘t ride a bike outside Lyppens Jeweler at Langebruugsteg.

They go around the corner to Oude Turfmarkt (which is what I took a picture of) for Jamie to teach him how. For Grandad!!!

The fucking windmill they see before they lovingly gaze into each other’s eyes is De Riekermolen at the Southern end of Amstelpark, where they also cycle. (It‘s actually realistic for them to do that, it would be about half an hour between those locations by bike).

Rebecca doesn‘t see the obvious bike lane (that doesn‘t actually exist there) and falls into the gracht at Raamgracht. Boaty McBoatface‘s houseboat is still there, they just had it dressed up a bit with plants and such when they filmed. (Unclear if anyone currently lives there). The interiors were shot in a studio.

Trent follows Colin to Prik night club (which was absolutely buzzing when I was there, I really want to go back).

And then they sit at the Homomonument, the Pink Triangle memorial at Westerkerk, having that tearjerker of a conversation, before returning to party. (It walked that distance at night, it‘s a beautiful stroll and less than 10 minutes). When I visited someone had left sunflowers. 🌻

Leslie & Will first go to Hotel Prins Hendrik in the Red Light district (and steps away from Amsterdam main station) where Chet Baker died. They then make their way to Jazz Café Alto, which is just down the road from where Boom Chicago used to be on Leidseplein. (It‘s about 30 mins on foot between those two locations so they could have walked or just taken the tram for a few stops. The interiors were done at a studio though).

Ted of course visits the studio-filmed fictional themed restaurant where he has a BBQ sauce induced, Corey Burton-narrated epiphany about triangles, but first he sees Vincent‘s „Sunflowers“ at Van Gogh Museum during Museumnacht (which btw would mean the episode is set first weekend of November). As you can tell they moved some things around, so at least currently the painting isn‘t hung on that beautiful blue wall anymore.

As a bonus, here is a picture of where Boom Chicago used to be when Jason Sudeikis, Brendan Hunt and Joe Kelly performed there - Brendan also used to live above the McDonald‘s on Leidseplein just steps away for a while. And the other picture is the current Boom Chicago on Rozengracht, definitely go enjoy a show there if you can.

Anyway thus concludeth my trip around Ted Lasso‘s Amsterdam. I visited for the Boom Chicago Comedy Festival and fell in love with the city, it was … magical / gezellig. I will never forget it, but then again, some people get Alzheimer’s.

#ted lasso #filming locations #amsterdam #boom chicago #jason sudeikis #brendan hunt #david elsendoorn #ted lasso cast #brett goldstein #phil dunster #hannah waddingham #matteo van der grijn #rebecca welton #roy kent #jamie tartt #leslie higgins #will kitman #charlie hiscock #jan maas

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simplydannie · 2 months

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The siblings have done their time in prison… and now… they are released back from where they came… the under belly of Rageous. Life is different down here. More struggle, more loneliness… all they have is each other now. But their struggles follow them as they learn someone up top is still after them. And now the thug bosses of Under Rageous are all after them…But being poisoned by the Troll makes life a little harder.

Part 2 || Part 3

Security left them at the elevator. This was the only way to the underside of a Rageous… where the lower class… the nobodies lived. Those on top hardly batted an eye on what would happen down there. Each region had its own laws. Since Velvet and Veneer were originally from the under side of Rageous, well, they were being sent back… the laws there could deal with them.

…..DING…..

The elevator door slid open.

The siblings stood there in the silence. The sounds and lights of upper Rageous illuminated the darkened under Rageous cities… but it still wasn’t enough. They cautiously stepped out of the elevator… it closed behind them and went back up…. Here they were, back in square one.

All they were allowed to bring back down were a few belongings, and that was it. The siblings were completely de-glammed of their fame persona. Velvet still sported her high ponytail. Instead of her glittery outfits she settled for a red, oversized hoodie she wore over a skin tight black mini dress. Her heels were gone, instead she sported some black combat boots. On her wrist a pink crystal bracelet Veneer had gotten her years ago that the upper atmosphere of Rageous allowed her to keep.

The only one who seemed pleased to be out of his glimmer and glammed persona was her brother. Veneer still had his famous swooped up green hair. Like his sister, he also wore a red oversized hoodie and skinny wavy pants with black combat boots. He wore a purple beanie over his green hair… before their rise to fame, he’d always love to wear beanies… Velvet always hated it.

They stared into the dark silence of Under Rageous. Music and laughter could be heard far away. Velvet pulled up her hoodie and began walking in the direction they had instructed them too.

“Hey Vels wait!” Veneer called out as he grabbed his duffle bag running after her. She had ignored him all those months at the Mount Rageous Detention Center… she was still continuing to ignore him now.

“Vels….Velvet! Come on sis, how long are you going to keep ignoring me?” He called out as he followed close behind her. They walked into the main streets… still empty, voided of people.

“How about forever?….. Traitor.” She replied.

“That’s not fair! I had to do it.” He told her.

“No you didn’t you moron!” She pulled back her hoodie and turned round look him directly into his eyes. “We had everything Veneer! We were at the top!” She gestured to the lights above them…Mount Rageous. “Now we’re back where we started!”

“Just because we were on top doesn’t mean it was right. Didn’t you see yourself Vels? You were going mad! And our manger didn’t do anything to help us. She had us torture Floyd!” Veneers expression saddened… he missed the little Troll… unfortunately he never came to visit them… he never returned his letters. Veneer never blamed him, but he still felt hurt.

“And what now? We’re better off out here!” She exclaimed.

“No. But I have an idea. Maybe we could reach out to Floyd!” He said happily.

“You think he’ll have us back after what we did! What? You want to be a happy family gain?” She teased.

“… we could.” Veneer responded.

CLINK!

The sound of metal hitting the ground sounded in the distance…

“Maybe we should keep it down and just get home.” He said.

“Whatever.” She turned to keep walking.

THUD!

She walked straight into someone.

“My bad.” She said. Velvet looked to the see suspicious stranger she ran into. Pale skin, fawxhawk stringy black hair. When he smiled, he bared his sharp teeth… a popular cosmetic procedure done in Under Rageous… made them seem more menacing.

“Hey there gorgeous.” He hissed in a snake like voice. “Where you two headed?”

“Oh! We’re just going home- OOF!” Veneer began to speak until his sister elbowed him in the ribs.

“We’re just walking through. So excuse us…” Grabbing her duffle bag, she turned her brother around to walk the opposite direction. But in there way stood another Rageoun, same pale skin with dark pulled back green stringy hair. He wore some cyber type specks around his eyes….the two Rageoun thugs surrounded them. Veneer instinctively got in front of Velvet.

“Were they going to send us escorts?” Veneer turned to ask Velvet. She shook her head.

“We know who you two are. Heard who you were before your rise to fame, and now, well definitely somebody of high value now.” The sharp tooth Rageoun smiled.

“Didn’t you hear, we were frauds. Not really somebodies are we.” Velvet replied.

“Yeah well despite that, word is, someone up there is still interested in you two. They told my boss that they pay a really good price if we found you and brought you to them. Of course my boss says he’ll pay us double who ever found you. And what do you know, here you are.” He smiled a toothy grin.

The other thug grasped Veneer firmly by his arm, dragging him away from his sister. He struggled, trying to pull away. A dark vehicle was awaiting for them at the end of the street.

“Hey!” Velvet cried out as she reached for her brother. The sharped tooth Rageoun blocked her way.

“You can come peacefully or not. They didn’t care what condition we brought you in, so long as you were alive…. Kind of.” He laughed. He grabbed a Velvet by the arm pulling her along with him. Looking frantically about she grabbed the nearest thing that came in her grasp… a metal pipe.

SMACK!

She hit the thug behind the head. He cried in pain releasing her. Velvet quickly moved away. She ran towards the other thug who still held Veneer.

SMACK!

She hit the thug upside the head knocking him unconscious.

“You okay?” She asked as she helped up her brother.

“Well that’s a nice welcome isn’t it.” He said sarcastically.

“Let’s get our bags and AH-“ She was yanked by her ponytail and pulled backwards. Velvet smacked the light post hard, knocking the wind out of her, sending a pain down her back and head. Through blurred vision she could see her brother struggling with the sharp toothed thug. The thug was bigger, stronger… he had Veneer pinned to the ground. Velvet could see him pull something from the side of his boot…. A knife.

“I wonder how much that face will be worth if I marked it up a bit.” He said gliding the knife across Veneers face.

At that instant something overcame Velvet. Her eyes began to glow pink…. A sudden rush of anger…

“VENNIE!” Before she knew it was behind the thug.

SMACK!

She hit him.

SMACK.

She hit him again.

“DONT YOU EVER TOUCH HIM AGAIN!” She screamed as she kept beating the thug with the metal pipe.

“Vels!” Veneer screamed. But she couldn’t hear him… she was in a blind rage. “Vels! Please stop!… VELS IM OKAY!”

She stopped. Her breathing was heavy. As she calmed down, the pink around her eyes faded away… it was then she could see what she had done.

“…oh…my….god.” She murmured…. The thug lay there…beaten up… and motionless.

“Is he…Oh my gosh!” Veneer began breathing quickly, tears forming in his eyes, his anxiety kicking in. Velvet turned to her brother to try and calm him down.

“I don’t know what came over me… he was… he was going to hurt you Ven…. I couldn’t stop.” She turned back to look at the guys lifeless body…wherever they to came from, there had to be more.

“Veneer look at me. Veneer!” She grabbed his face looking him dead in the eye. “You’re going to have to trust me. Let’s get our bags and run. Just follow me.” She threw the metal pipe she had and grabbed her duffle bag. “Ven please come on!”

It took her brother a moment to recollect his thoughts… she was protecting him… that’s all she was doing… right? He quickly grabbed his duffle bag and took his sister’s hand. They both ran off deep into the under parts of Rageous.

They were alone. They didn’t know where to go, where to hide…and they were in trouble.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #velvet and veneer #velvet trolls #trolls veneer #fandom #veneer #velvet #velvet and veneer trolls #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #short story #au #trolls #trolls au

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fallinforerling · 1 year

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LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 7 - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your alarm went off sooner than expected. It was surprising that you managed to get any sleep the night before; you felt anxious and nauseous the whole day before and after going to bed, you stayed awake imagining tons of different scenarios of what could happen. You even wonder which seat was assigned to you.

You grabbed your phone, seeing that the alarm's name was “MATCH DAY!!!”. Yeah, you were extremely excited about it two months ago when you set it… It’s not like you weren’t excited to see Jobe’s first game as the holder of his position on the field, but Jude’s parents were attending as well… And Jude himself, of course.

“Well, Mom didn’t raise a bitch, so…”

It was time to get ready.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

✉️ Jobe: Are you sure about coming by yourself? I’m sure someone can pick you up.

✉️ I’m sure, don’t even worry about me. Focus on the game and don’t stop for one second to think about me, your brother, or anything else. This is your day!

✉️ Jobe: You’re truly one of my best friends, love you

✉️ Aw, Jobe! I love you too. See you at the pitch!

✉️ Jobe: Show the guards the card I gave you, they're going to take you to your seat, okay?

✉️ Sure thing! Best of luck out there

You blocked your phone, still waiting for the Uber. The food you had an hour ago was still heavy on your stomach, it made you worry. You hope to not vomit all over the place because of how tense and nervous you felt. The idea of taking a pill was still on the back of your mind, but being drugged around people wasn’t the brightest idea that occurred to you so far. It was better to deal with it with a clear mind.

Mia and Nikki send support through text; after the week of relaxation the three of you had, you felt closer than ever to them. It was also refreshing to touch your phone again and feel nothing. For the sake of your mental health, you kept IG silenced, but you weren’t quitting it just because some people were too obsessed over your friends’ lives. You were still going to post about the game, you didn't care. You didn't accept any of the requests you received the week prior anyway.

And who even cares if people noticed you there? It wasn’t a big deal, you, as every new face of a rumor involving footballers, were going to pass and people were going to forget about you in a few weeks. At least you hoped that’ll happen.

And then your phone buzzed; it was the Uber driver. Thank God. If you were going to die from the nerves, it better be after the game. You wouldn’t let Jobe down.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Dressed with your Birmingham jersey, hat, and scarf, you blended perfectly with the tons of supporters that were waiting to enter the stadium. The loud voices, few screams, and general excitement were a bit contagious, and by the time you made it to the main entrance, a big smile was glued to your face. Who cares about Jude Bellingham right now?

“Hello!” You said to a bodyguard behind a tiny glass window.

“Hey, miss. I’m sorry, but there’s going to be another twenty minutes before we let people enter the stadium” He smiled at you sweetly, seeming honestly sorry about making people wait.

“Actually!” You took the card that hung on your neck, showing it above the scarf. “I have this?”

He studied it for a second before extending his arm, clearly asking for it. You took it off as fast as you could, and after he scanned it, he took a second look to your face.

“So you’re Bellingham’s guest?”

“I sure am” It felt a bit weird to see his surprised face, but he hid it pretty quickly.

“Give me a second” He disappeared behind the glass. You could hear loud voices shouting at each other and then the guard appeared again with a younger man next to him. “He’s going to take you to your seat, please, go ahead” Then a tinier door opened next to the entrance.

“Thanks!” You followed the man silently, feeling thankful that he wasn’t much of a talker either. The hallways were almost empty, but you could see some staff members running around. The man stopped at one of the big doors and after guiding you around rounds and rounds of empty seats, he stopped at the very bottom, next to the freaking archery. “Uhm, are you sure this is my seat?”

“Yes, this is the one that popped up on the system”

“Very well… Thank you!”

“You’re welcome” He gave you a tiny smile before leaving. You took another look at the seat, which seemed very comfortable, and then your eyes wandered to the archery.

You were getting hit in the head, weren't you?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

While you waited for the people to start coming inside and the players to come to the field to warm up, you took your phone, snapping some photos to send to the girls.

✉️ *two photos attached*

✉️ Can you guys believe I’m right next to the archery???

✉️ Nikki: You’re totally getting smacked on the head with a ball

✉️ Mia: Lmao! TOTALLY

✉️ Thank you for the encouragement to stay calm :) (Fuck you)

✉️ Nikki: We love you too, my love 🫶🏻

✉️ Mia. It’s just funny to think about you getting hit in the head, sorry!

Your smile grew bigger. They were such assholes.

“Hey, pretty lady” Jobe’s voice sounded right in front of you. The scream you let out was loud, making you almost drop your phone.

“Jobe!” You laughed, feeling your cheeks blush when a couple of players walked in front of both of you with smirks. “I almost dropped my phone!”

“I know, the whole point of coming up to you while you were distracted was that” He smiled with such pleasure that you felt the need to kick him. He came closer to the barrier. “Give me a hug! For good luck and all that”

“You just want to get hugged by a pretty girl, you’re not fooling anyone” You said while giving him said hug. “Jokes aside, I’m so proud of you. I’m sure you’re going to have an outstanding performance tonight.”

“I hope so” He seemed nervous, which was more than understandable.

“You’re an amazing footballer, with talent and confidence. Remember?” You’ll never shut up about his talent, you trusted him. “And you work hard, just like your brother. So don’t be extremely nervous, you’re going to do great, okay?”

“Yes, of course.” His smile came back to his face. “Thank you.”

“No problem… Now go warm up, I’ll be there fearing for my life the entire time.”

“You’re not getting hit by a ball, don’t be a baby.”

“You don’t know that!”

You saw him strode back to their half of the field, being greeted with some slaps on the back. Ah, yeah, minimal contact with a girl and the boys went crazy. You stood there for a few minutes, watching them warm up and chat with each other, then you retrieve your phone from your pocket, seeing that there were some texts from the girls.

✉️ Nikki: So… I’m very sorry to ask you this BUT

✉️ Nikki: Have you seen The Bastard?

✉️ Mia: Yeaaaah, have you?

✉️ Thankfully no. But only time will tell if I pass out in a hallway or something

✉️ Mia: Very funny

✉️ Nikki: Don’t think twice about texting us, okay?

✉️ Of course. I’ll keep you updated

Oh god. You really wanted to get through this day without seeing him, but you knew you weren’t going to achieve that. It was impossible. You just had to wait and see when you were going to be face-to-face with him.

As the minutes passed, people started to enter the stadium, rapidly filling up the seats. You were taken aback, hundreds of people were already singing, waving signs, flags, and chatting loudly. A particular area of the stadium called your attention; the VIP seats were protected by a strong but clear glass that let other people perfectly see who was there. You knew he was going to be there sooner than later.

But no, you didn’t have time for that. You focused again on the field, where the players continued to warm up. Time passed and finally, it was time for them to get back into the dressing room and prepare to go out. Jobe gave you a small wave before leaving. You suddenly felt nervous for him.

People next to you chatted loudly and sang, but you didn’t mind. Your eyes were glued to the exit for the players. The presenter shouted through the speakers the club's names as they came out. You had your phone prepared for this moment, so you focused on recording Jobe from the minute you saw him enter, wait in line for the final speech, and greet the other team members one by one. You felt like a proud mom, as stupid as it sounds.

Then the game began and your brain managed to only focus on Birmingham’s side, how Jobe did on the midfield, even though you didn’t distinguish him from time to time. Then, from one moment to another, you started to cheer with the other fans because he got closer and closer to the archery of the opposite team. Which was the one you were sitting by. He made a pass, then another teammate passed it back to him, and just like that, he scored his first goal. Everyone went crazy, including you; he ran, being followed by his teammates, cheered with the fans who sang his name non-stop, and then came closer to where you were sitting (now standing) and pointed at you. You blew him a kiss, feeling more than proud and fascinated by his talent. You knew it. The emotion didn’t leave the fans for a while, and you were as happy as they were. You felt like a years-long follower. Football did unite people in the weirdest ways. And then people started to cheer next to you again. You looked at them, and they were looking back… at you?

“What's happening?” You asked a sweet girl who was next to her parents. She pointed to the top of the stadium, where the screens were.

You turned to see, and… You were there! Right on the big screen. You smiled again, giving a quick wave before the camera focused on another person. Your cheeks were smoking hot, and your heart was beating so fast you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

And then, just when you got comfortable enough with the people surrounding you, the players went out on the field to rest. Damn, you were already forty-five minutes into the game without any accidents. Wonderful.

And right on time. You really needed to go to the bathroom. Most of the people stayed in their seats, but lots of them went out to get more drinks, go to the bathroom, etc. You slowly made your way through the crowd, and when you just made it through one of the doors, a guard stood in front of you. You looked at him, confused by his sudden stop.

“I'm sorry, miss. I have been ordered to move you from your seat.”

“Excuse me?” Were they throwing you out?

“Please, follow me. Will get to the VIP section in a minute.”

“Sorry?” Oh no. “VIP section?”

“Seems like your former seat was given by mistake, you were supposed to be on the VIP seats this whole time. We are deeply sorry.”

“That's okay! I think that I was supposed to be on that seat over there...” You pointed down the hallway, realizing just now that you were following him. “Can I ask why am I being moved?”

“It's been a request from one of our VIP members... Well, a few, actually.” His shy smile said it all.

“Are these members the Bellinghams?”

“Uhm. You're correct. They realized you were out there and requested that you were immediately moved next to them.”

“I see...” Seems like life has other plans for you, ones very away from peace.

You kept following him, trying to breathe as deeply as you could. Why did this have to happen now? Just when you thought you were safe from encountering him. The guard stopped by a door, opening it for you. You said thanks before entering, calling the attention of a few men and women that were by the catering area.

“Oh, my dear! There you are!” Denise’s voice startled you. She came to you with a smile and open arms. She was the sweetest woman ever.

“Denise!” You received her hug with a smile. At least you weren’t alone with Jude. “How have you been?”

“Better now that I see you. You look great!”

“Thank you! You look even better” Mark came after her, giving you a quick hug. “Hi, Mark”

“Hello, dear. We were dying to see you. It's so bad you were so busy with work.”

“Oh, yeah…” Your eyes wandered to Jude, who stood awkwardly behind his parents. You could see he was beyond uncomfortable. “It’s been a crazy couple of weeks…”

“Yeah! Jude told us all about it. But don’t worry, after the game, we’re going to get dinner. You’re joining us, aren’t you? So we can catch up.” What were you supposed to answer when Denise was looking at you obviously clueless about the whole situation?

“Of course I am.” The smile never leaved your lips, but when both of his parents turned to look at his son, you made sure your eyes gave the right message to Jude: I’m going to kill you.

“Oh, and why were you sitting down there? We made sure you were right here with us.” Mark said, looking confused.

“Uhm, the guard said it must be a system error… You know, those types of things happen.” He looked pleased enough with your answer because he and Denise walked to the exit.

“We’ll be back in ten minutes. We want to see Jobe before the second half.”

“Sure…” That was the first time in the ten minutes you’d been there that you heard Jude’s voice.

Both of you stood there in silence, looking at each other. You felt a mixture of emotions that were very hard to identify, but the main one was simple annoyance. He had a month to tell his parents. A month.

“Are you for real?” You said while getting closer to him. “I can’t believe you right now.”

“What?” Was the only thing he said at first. Why did he look scared? “Why are you so mad?”

“What?” You mocked him, finally standing in front of him. “I can give you ten reasons that happened just today to justify why I’m mad, Jude Bellingham. Why on earth are your parents acting like they don’t know we broke up?”

He looked at you with a blank expression that confirmed your fears.

“Oh, my god…” You covered your face. Did you really dated this idiot? “So your parents believe we’re still happy and together? Why would you do that?”

“Well, I just didn’t feel like any time was the right time to tell them. I got nervous and lied! I’m sorry… But why do you want them to know so quickly?”

“Why? Well, maybe because it happened a month ago?!” You screamed-whispered it. “I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend until you feel ready to tell your parents. What are you? Five?”

“Okay? Ouch.” He came even closer, looking into your eyes with a look that you didn’t like. It was almost… sweet. “And besides, I thought we could talk…”

“Talk?” Now you were confused confused. “Talk about what? I don’t have anything to talk with you.”

“Why are you so mad at me?! I thought we were still friends…”

“Jude… You broked up with me a month ago while I was visiting you in fucking Germany, not less than a week later you went out and partied, kissed a girl and God knows what else. Then I went out, danced with a friend, and you freaked out and acted like a hypocrite jerk who doesn’t know what boundaries are... Why do you think I’m a bit apprehensive about talking to you? You only called me to make questions about Gio's IG thing, so I'm also doubting the friends part.” He seemed upset by your lack of touch, but you didn’t care. “Besides, why are you acting like I’m the one that broke up with you?”

“Well… I don’t know, I’m just…” He reached for your hand, and then his parents were back. They smiled at the both of you, and you didn’t have the energy to take your hand back from his.

“Ready for the game? It’s about to start.”

“Yeah…” You walked to your seats. His parents were next to you but in a different row, so you were trapped with Jude in a very comfortable seat and in a very uncomfortable situation.

Fucking hell.

“We really need to talk…” Jude whispered, looking at your profile.

“Shut up and watch the fucking game, Bellingham.”

You really hated your life.

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