#crying a bit bc it was a funny scene

[dangaer]

nightbringer making the reason why barb is so mad at solomon that "he was written down as 8th on a list" was simultaneously one of the best and worst decisions i've felt in a long time.

starting on the good points, it's devastatingly good because it shows actually how much barbatos' has lived as the aftermath. he was nothing to the original demon king apart from a servant, who then managed to make his own decision and forged bonds which held, in his opinion, very strong importance into the lives of two others: diavolo and solomon. he has had his slips up, but has mentioned repeatedly that he lives to serve to make up for those, he's the ultimate reason why diavolo's plan works so well in the original obm ( you know, chapter 16... ) but also seemed to take care of solomon from childhood until his transition into immortality ( and perhaps even helped him with that? i wouldn't be surprised if such was the case. )

it's an interesting scene, given how solomon is quick to point out it's names that came to mind, rather than those who he trusted the most or wanted to make a pact with the most, and barbatos to tell him he didn't expect to be in the top three, it's a stickler to the reality that barbatos has faced for 100's of years. something easily noticeable from the first game is that diavolo doesn't hold barbatos in the highest regard when compared to lucifer, stating that lucifer is the most trustworthy demon he knows, as well as constantly requesting his company in a few chats to which even barbatos turns silent upon, and it's never addressed - perhaps because it's something barbatos has now gotten used to, discovered throughout the years. this, however, proves that, perhaps at one point he was extremely devastated by the realisation that no one seemingly held him in the highest regard, that perhaps no one ever would.

on the negative it seems such a vague reason especially when you consider solomon would have had 72 names on that list all things considered, and they were alongside poor asmodeus ( who would have been 32nd on that list ). it's clear that after chapter 16 they're avoiding the more heinous stories involving li's. i feel the thought of the fandom is making it make more sense than what is probably supposed to be a funny write off. but, as a barbatos fan i refuse to have barbatos in second ( or in this case, eighth ) place be another funny joke.

#❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⧽ — ooc. #headcanon / #perhaps PERHAPS #crying a bit bc it was a funny scene #the whole solomon trying to apologise and barbs immediate reply being #“ i want you to call me the eighth.” LIKE DAMN U HAVE A LOT OF MAKING UP TO DO BUDDY TO BE BARBATOS' FRIEND AGAIN ... #also him being the only one and not telling another demon probs half out of the pact but also probs not wanting to hurt the others feelings #beels number one ... watch OUT beel. #also shout out to asmo in this scene. im glad hes getting SOME justic with the whol #“ solomon needs to treat demons better ” bc um #he needs to treat asmo better from what ive read from these spoilers #long post / #sorry for rambling i saw this got revealed and collapsed #barbatos deserves better than this

[yume-fanfare]

but if ptvd gets voiced we'll have this so i still win

#lines that had me crying in class: #and even the line abt hajime marrying tomoya lmao alskjdmlksjdm #ptvd was fun #it also has fun naru lines a win <-produces all three units that appear in the story #funny to me that sweet halloween is second for ryuseitai too tho aksdmlksjdm the power of scared chiaki #tho it's a bit sad bc i feel like nazuna barely appears in ptvd #but the scene where they find the body is going to be So funny voice acted #mar's midnight rambles #enstars

[perilegs]

mm i'm already emotionally torn about the whole karlach romance. i don't think i'll be okay once i finish the game

#its funny bc in her act 3 romance scene she was like haha lets pretend like this is a real first date #and i was like haha just like gar.rus in citadel dlc #but then she started talking about her life and. what's left of it to which my brain went #lmaoo wrong character comparison from that game series. which. i hate comparing characters from these games to each other #but i had to make the situation a bit silly so i wouldnt start crying #then she fingered me :] #and then she asked me what id like for the future IF she was alive to see it. and i cried. #this is exactly the kind of thing i will never get over #choosing love regardless of the time you have left #the rest of my life may be short - but i'm willing to share it all with you #and you will give me all you have for the time being - though you will be here for much longer after im gone #i want to compare that to two separate characters romance stories but i wont im better than thag #also you guys dont need to know my type so intimately #leevi liveblogs

[asakamasanobu]

my insane person thought of the day is what if the asaka i fell in love with is completely mischaracterised bc of how mistranslated this series is .. and my rational person counterbalance is that there is no way that is possible bc the mistranslations aren’t even THAT bad and you’ve already read a few asaka parts in japanese and he sounds pretty much the same but like imagine .......

#this was originally going to be a hashtag funny tweet but i realised i have so much to say about this matter #and i love talking in the tags as it has been established countless times #like there are certain junctures were the translations are just so lazy like 草色 as grass green instead of dark green but LIKE #in general they are not so bad ..... they just translate it directly and it works for some things but then it doesn’t work for others #there’s no way they could’ve butchered something into sad and beautiful but it would be so funny #how do you explain that your fave character only exists in a shoddily translated english version and you’ve projected everything onto him #i would cry #this yaking session has been brought to you mainly by the mistranslation of yuichi’s words in the student council room confrontation scene #like the translated bit of i’m gonna put you first now is cute too ig but like #THE EMOTIONAL WEIGHT OF SAYING HE WANTED TO HAVE THE UPPER HAND OVER WATARU FOR ONCE ...... BC HE THOUGHT HE WAS LOSING OUT #BC CMON HES ALWAYS BEEN PUTTING WATARU FIRST AND ITS PRECISELY BC HE THINKS HES LOSING OUT BEING THE ONE MORE IN LOVE WITH WATARU THAN WA #THAN WATARU WITH HIM I RAN OUT OF CHARACTER LIMIT JUST SCREAMINGG #literally my favourite dynamic esp for bitch boy who never lets anyone see his clingier vulnerable side .... god #i sat there for 5 minutes just pondering on life and omfg sekakoi op1 just came on shuffle as i was typing IRRELEVANT BUT HIIII #ok anyway rereading vol 1 just reminded me that actually ...... i do like bitches apart from asaka too #oh ya i realised i forgot to say i finished vol 1 yesterday but i did it was gr8 #the first time i read the series i loved all of them until asaka suddenly crept up and stole all my braincells and now when i reread I just #only read the asaka parts so i end up not gaf about everyone else but they’re good too ...... wataru and yuichi y’all got me fucked up #ok the end i have been talking for SO LONG and will probably tell all of this to oomf who i’m meeting soon to lend vol 1 to anyway ^_^

[vmbrq]

MINORS DNI ; cnc (breeding?), afab/fem reader

just bc @/hyeyulove said they missed my ethan writing.

giggling rn because being in a relationship with deranged, ghostface ethan landry would be one hell of an experience on its own, but the day you let him fuck you without a condom is the day you can kiss your autonomy GOODBYE LMAOOO that man will NEVER leave you alone. he's already attached to you as is, so you think you can expose him to raw sex with FEELINGS and live the rest of your life in peace? that's actually really funny.

he'll be so needy—pawing at you, pressing up against you, languidly smoothing his hands over your waist and thighs, sheepishly commenting on how good you smell or look, anything to lure you into fulfilling his wishes. even if it's just you sitting on his cock and not moving while you two watch a movie or him teasing only the tip into your cunt, he just wants to feel you. he'd be addicted to how fucking warm and wet you feel without the latex barrier, groaning at how clearly he can feel every twitch and pulse of your walls, his breath hitching as you let him hold you by the hips and slowly guide you up and down along the length of his cock, on the verge of trembling when he clutches you tightly and empties his balls inside you for the second time.

and god forbid you ask him to pull out in the middle of him drilling into you. you're so overwhelmed, crying out and drunk on pleasure, babbling for him to pull out! since it's the only thing you can remember to do. but sometimes, ethan can be so mean when he's in charge. he'd loom over you, eyes wild and dark, lips pulled back into a mocking grin, and laugh. you think you have a chance at deterring him? that's cute. he'd take your moment of bewilderment as you stare up at him with wide eyes to hook his hands under your knees and fold your lower half up and into a mating press.

you don't have a snowball's chance in hell at pushing him off. he's far too heavy, too strong, and he'll reinforce your lack of control by leaning his weight on you to keep you pinned helplessly in place. all you can do is moan and whine and wince, embarrassed, at the obscene squelch of his cock bullying its way deep inside your sticky, overstimulated cunt and the slap of his heavy balls against your pelvis. but as overstimulated as you are, you don’t dislike it. he knows you don’t. if you did, your cunt wouldn’t be squeezing around his cock to keep him inside every time his hips pulled back a bit further than usual. you’re like an open book. he knows you by now.

on another note, the amount of text messages he sends you will increase in general, and if you don't reply within the time frame he deems acceptable, he'll start blowing up your phone. you'll wake up from a long nap, disoriented and not even remembering who the hell you are, and find several missed calls and texts from him as well as your man HIMSELF standing outside your bedroom window.

and those little couples pranks you see on tiktok, the one especially that's like "texting my bf he's gone, you can come over now?" yeah, you can't do that LMAOOO that man is INSANE. you remember how strong he was in that apartment scene where he was terrorizing the core four? HELL nah. you can damn near hear his car tires screech from down the STREET as he swerves around and heads back to you. in his brain, oh, so you think you can just be handing out pussy that good all willy nilly? 🤨 yeah okay. i know that the way he tried to kick in that bedroom door had y'all feeling something, bc me too.

he wouldn't try to kick it down immediately, but he'd stand out there seething, jaw locked, knocking on the door a little harder than normal, fighting to keep his voice even so he won't scare you out of letting him in. but his patience would dwindle rapidly. his behavior would be erratic, switching between pleading and persuasion and guilt-tripping and banging on the door and yelling so quickly you can barely keep up. babe you are playing with your LIFE😭 that pussy got him in a chokehold, and he'll be damned if anyone even gets the opportunity.

#ethan landry smut #scream smut #scream 6 smut #fem reader

[festus-eats-tabasco]

transcribing my breakdown of the trailer here bc i'm going feral

dramatic riptide cover >>>>>>

THE MET!!!!

is it just me or is he wearing the leather cord for the beads in this scene? did they give it to him before camp? i'm intrigued

LOOKING AT PERSEUS!!!!!!! Absolutely FANTASTIC choice

getting up to defend Grover <3

AND! Nancy Bobofit sighting

also is Riptide vibrating when Mrs. Dodds gets close because that's baller as hell

current working theory is the kids are gasping at Nancy in the fountain, ESPECIALLY because of the "there you are" bit

the Fury looks BADASSSSSS

MOUNT OLYMPUS SIGHTING!!!!

Zeus's throne is engraved with lightning bolts!!! Also are those faces at the bottom??? what do they represent hmmmmmm

the Montauk cabin looks so cozy and homey and i'm emotional about it

i think this is Percy on the porch of the Big House

ALSO LAKE SPOTTED!

nah bc this shot is my entire personality right now and i think based on the next shot they're going into the Hermes cabin

this shot of him during capture the flag against Clarisse is INCREDIBLE

this is my absolute FAVORITE shot of Annabeth!!! HER FOCUS IS SO INTENSE! THAT IS H E R!!!!!

also is she watching Percy train with Luke??? maybe??? who knows

I'm assuming they're in the Underworld here because of the two thrones and the general mist n shit

Auntie Em's!!!!!!!!

I LOVE the lighting in this shot oh my god look at that framing this is GORGEOUS

this shot is so fucking funny. these poor kids

ok so get ready for some analysis

the golden statue is carrying the symbol of the boar aka Ares AND she's standing in a seashell so I'm guessing it's meant to be Aphrodite

plus with the tapestries in the back and the theatrical lighting of the place i'm guessing this is the entrance to the Tunnel of Love??? maybe the statue was made by Hephaestus, it look a bit automaton-esque

is this a shade in the Fields of Asphodel?????

I LOVE THIS HUG AWWW

also Percy is still in his quest clothes so I'm wondering if this is maaaaaybe post-scorpion sting???? maybe he just got out of the infirmary? idk

*inhuman screeching*

Tunnel! of! Love!

ok this precedes Percy falling off the gateway arch and she's gesturing like a command so I'm guessing she's gesturing to the Chimera??? at first i was like ATHENA but she's the park ranger in the Hoover Dam not the arch whoops

:(

i'm sad

THAT'S! MY! BOY!

WOOOOOOO this trailer is incredible and I'm gonna cry anyway tell me your thoughts y'all i'm in brainrot mode

#percy jackson #pjo #rick riordan #riordanverse

[shigayokagayama]

incomplete list of weird/interesting manga-anime discrepancies

-you know the bit where they break into the girls highschool in episode 2? yea thats chapter 56. spliced into the middle of chapter 4. its supposed to go before the bit with the ghost family as a lead up to the mogami arc with mob starting to consider evil spirits as just as much “people” as living humans are. all things considered its kind of weird how well it fits its anime placement

-ritsu in the manga gets introduced in the same chapter as teru. you dont see mobs family at all for the first few chapters. infact i dont think his parents appear until like. chapter 25????? every interaction you see between mob and any of his family is completely made up for the anime

-in the manga during the claw arc instead of reigen sending them away all the lackeys just stood there awkwardly during the fight w the scars fdnjksndkjgnd

-mogami arc got GUTTED my god. the part where the fake psychics tried to murder minori got removed, shinras role in the arc got reduced to basically nothing, they move mogamiland ritsu to a bridge like 50 feet away instead of having him walk right over mob, mob only gets beat up like twice, the cat lives, the boxcutter bit is totally removed, the fight with the spirits is made a lot more abstract and less graphic. like im glad this one took the hit instead of the separation arc bc i cant imagine that arc ever being effective as one episode but wow.

-putting the “mob finding his family dead” thing at the end of the episode instead of in the middle of a chapter where it originally was was an objectively hilarious move

-rip the scene of teru outsmarting all three claw guys and saying “say old man have you ever been tortured before” unfortunately all scenes of teru being competent are not plot relevant and must die. also teru can make shadow clones

-hey remember those weird satellite people in claw keeping the viewer updated on where all the characters were in that infinite arc?

-mob with a gun.

-mob getting briefly knocked out while fighting toichiro and dimple possessing him then getting kicked out was replaced w toichiro just throwing him out the window or somethhing???

-toichiro saying that he only kept the super five around as spare batteries and draining serizawas power getting cut was a personal affront to me

-every single emotion mob cycled through in the anime got a 100% meter. the kid was super emotionally unstable in that fight

-that old man whos house they went to whos wraith made everyone asleep that they exorcised? yea they anime team made that up. they never went to his house in the manga, he just went to spirits and such for a shoulder massage

-manga reigen got 0 money for helping the yokai dude. it wasnt on the table. also most of the stuff he was saying was lifted from a video game serizawa played which he pointed out. also serizawa thought getting arrested was a type of spell

-takenakas general meanness was significantly toned down manga takenaka was a huge bitch

-in general the alien arc was a lot funnier in the manga? like the scene where reigen crashes they had reached a dead end on an extremely narrow path and were driving in reverse while tome and takenaka were screaming at each other in the back and inukawa was 5 seconds from snapping and killing everyone in the car. these might be my favorite pages in the entire manga they as so fucking funny

-originally when tome said she wouldnt keep climbing reigen suggested mob carry her with telekinesis (which horrified her) and mob said he was too motion sick to use his powers (obvious lie) but could carry her instead which got her to get up

-mezato asking mob to sign a t shirt for the psycho helmet cult in exchange for relationship advice got cut

-i cry every day that the sequence of ???% waking up didnt get animated it set a very different tone than the anime did. the anime was like. slow build up of dread. the manga was immediately bone deep horror i was literally sitting in my room yelling “WHAT???” over and over again at my computer as i clicked through it

-shigeo and mob conversation cut down significantly, all the references to the body improvement club being mob making a new self rather than embracing who he really is and being scared that all the friends hes made wouldnt like the real him removed </3

-the scene where reigen takes his shoes off is made a lot less somber and depressing. it feels less like “oh he knows hes going to die” and more like. triumphant? in the anime

-100% shigeo kageyama is an anime addition they added specifically to ruin my “the first time we see mob 100% is to fight dimple and the last time is to stop himself from fighting dimple” observation

-anime teru generally seems like hes in a better place than manga teru? manga teru seems very melancholy and like he doesn’t really know what to do with his life or his place in the world (which seems to put shigeo off) but anime teru is like wanna go shopping ^_^ *sips tea happily*

-manga shigeo deliberately threw the cake directly in reigens face and my fury over them making this ambiguous will last until i am dead

#maybe someday ill go through and do my simultaneous rewatch/reread #but for now take the ones i can presently remember #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #long post #pic

[aryxchse]

can i request relationship hcs w jason pls? ur writing for him is so cute

jason grace dating headcanons

a / n ; ur so sweet wtf?? i love u, keep complimenting me n my ass will be floating soon girlie 🫶🏻🫶🏻

warnings ; cursing and i said sexy like once, also female reader AGAIN

- alright here's my favorite gentleman

- scary dog privilege fr

- he's cold to everyone but you

- everytime you hug him he'll spin you around in the air with him

- cloud dates

- he's your personal fridge in the hot weathers

- likes carrying you in his arms

- and like he does it so often

- will tie your shoes for you

- and will help you with your homeworks

- if you guys go different collages, he'll drop you off first

- carries your stuff for you

- do ya'll know that one korean boy who has the biggest heart eyes? yeah he's jason

- since he knows what a sith lord is even though he lost his memory, he'll watch star wars with you

- and recreates the romantic anakin scenes

- "from the moment i met you-" boy stfu i'll literally fall in love

- please teach him how to have fun, he's a very sarcastic guy inside

- will cry if you buy him lightsaber

- if you're a booktok girlie like i am, he'll be happy to buy you your books

- and traumatised after reading the first page

- also yeah, he's paying everything

- likes buying you sexy clothes to see you wearing them

- he's like a little kid in love actually

- he thinks he should give all the pleasure to you but when you returned the favor and like- idk listened to him ramble about something with lovey eyes he almost cried

- girl you make him cry sm fr

- cancer men ppl

- anyways

- he'll buy you matching rings, clothes, anything. he loves matching with you

- will make your hot chocolate a little bit colder for you be able to drink it with his wind

- carries an hair tie for you

- always holding you, ALWAYS

- a hand on your waist? check, on your shoulder? check, backpocket? double check

- mr grace the acts of service guy

- will hold your hand if you're going upstairs like a princess

- he usually sleeps better if he's laying on your chest

- he has one of your plushies with him and spreys your perfume on it regulerly

- it helps him when you're out on a quest okay??

- will watch you do your makeup with doe eyes

- he learned how to braid hairs from piper just to braid yours, bcs he loves playing with your hair

- likes holding your hand

- but not like intertwined, maybe holding your pinky or your fingers lazly, he just needs to feel you

- colarbone 👏🏻 kisses 👏🏻

- he'll just bow you like you guys doing a tango and boom, kisses your colarbone

- buys you flowers and keeps one of them with him to know when he should buy you new ones

- writes you poetry

- he maybe can't say it out loud too much, but he can write it down or show it through actions

- he's actually very talkative and funny around you, leo was mesmerised when he first saw jason all chatty like that

- blushed the first time you wiped his glasses for him

- let's you style him however you want

- and like, pick his glasses for him

- he always pairs up with you in practices

- fucks the rules and makes you sit with him on the zeus table

- he can't just stay away from you too long and he's kind of obsessed atp

- but we love him for that ladies

#i ran out of ideas #hope u like it darlin! #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace headcanon #jason grace imagine #jason grace pjo #jason grace

[oniikabuto]

haiii.. i stumbled upon ur blog and might i respectfully say I am DIGGING it u literally seem so cool!?!! i also saw ur requests were open, so i wanted to send something!!! umm i am also Too shy to do this on my main. So.

cld i mayb request headcanons erik (2004 movie ver!!!) with a fem s/o who's rlly introverted, soft-spoken and generally scared of people (social anxiety!!).. just general relationship headcanons and such!!! sorry this request is So long! if you'd like, it can be a mix of sfw + nsfw. ty ❗❗❤️

2004 erik x soft/shy reader

synopsis: headcanons with erik x a shy and soft-spoken reader!

characters: gerik (2004 erik)

a/n: tysm <3 and also ty for being my first poto request!! and yea i felt that so hard. i almost never req on main either 😭 also ur request is not long at all dont even worry ab it <3

notes: little tiny bit of nsfw bonus at the end...?!?,@

erik, of all people, knows how that feels.

secretly, he likes that you don't really like being around people as often because that means you'll spend more time with him, down in his lair.

it may be selfish of him... but he needs u :(

but in any case, you end up spending a lot more time down with him than anywhere else, bc that's where it feels safe

really it just gets to a point where people wonder if there are TWO opera ghosts now.

he finds it funny to have you sign off on his letters too

O.G. in his elegant cursive and O.G. II in your loopy, small hand.

he takes you up to box five to watch performances together. sometimes he studies your features and the way you laugh, clap, gasp in surprise at the scenes. he finds it endearing.

especially when it's his own, self-written opera. his pride soars sm

nsfw

he's so soft and sweet and patient

u almost wanna cry

he stops and asks if everything is okay very frequently after realizing you never stop him to ask for anything.

he worries that you're in an uncomfortable position or something and you won't tell him!

lots and lots of praise

you're his perfect beautiful angel <3

sweet and gentle with u always

#erik poto #erik the phantom #poto 2004 #poto #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #gerik #gerik poto #christine daae #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #poto x reader

[attleboy]

If ragatha is raggedy Ann.... And Jax is raggedy Andy.....is caine part of looney land? Maybe the king but less pathetic......and to a lesser extent is he gloink queen greedy?(the weird sugar monster who tries to eat raggedy anns heart)

Who's Babette??? Who's the weird hallucinogenic camel???? Gangle??? Idk they both cry a lot XD

hmmm i've thought about it before, and i don't think every character would have a 1 to 1 match, but you raise some good points...

caine being part of looneyland is something i hadn't considered but yeah, that fits... i feel if he were a king figure it'd be a little less about him though... maybe he'd want to torment people to make the "audience" laugh? like a shitty prank show host

and the gloink queen as greedy.... maybe it's just the voice and the mass of her but yeah i can kinda see that...

like what if she was just hangry. what if that was her problem... we never did see the adventure's intended resolution... [i'm joking. kind of. i mean it's possible]

as for the others... i've always seen a bit of kinger in the camel but that miiiight just be this little ''parallel'' that i haven't been able to get out my head

and babette... ohoho... i've seen people draw pomni as her before and honestly that's what i see the most. they are both miserable girls who just want to get home... and it gives me the excuse to draw pomni in a cute outfit so you best believe i'm taking it

andddd because i think this dynamic would be really funny... pomni hater vs. pomni apologist fight

also. i should say, usually when i think about this little crossover, it's with the concept of it being an adventure where caine makes them produce a little film based off a oddly familiar script...

i've got some doodles for 'behind the scenes' stuff but i think i'll leave that for another post bc this one is getting kind of long hehe

#i like drawing this so much :D idk man the movie is so fun putting the tadc characters in it fills me with such whimsy #the amazing digital circus #tadc #ragatha #jax #pomni #caine #gloink queen #implied buttonblossom #my art #ask response

[gimmehyuck]

a series of (un)fortunate events | l.mk

summary. it’s been months since you've seen mark in person. when you have no choice but to be around him because of a wedding, you start to feel as if fate likes to see you suffer.

or, alternatively:

maybe fate just wants to see you happy.

pairing. rising actor!mark x fem!reader, feat. hyuck and ryujin

words. 9.4k

genre. exes to lovers; fluff with lots of angst sprinkled all over

warnings. reader has anxiety, honestly she’s a little bit miserable but i think we can forgive her for that, alcohol consumption, i asked my friend what the agents name should be and we both thought linda would be funny (sorry if your name is linda), cliche kdrama drunk scene bc i can

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you were frozen in time. mind completely empty. the literal embodiment of ‘not a thought behind those eyes’. it took a solid 45 seconds of ryujin calling your name before you snapped out of it and looked at her again through your phone screen. she was frowning at you and you couldn’t help but mutter under your breath a small, “shit.”

clearing your voice you apologized with a smile this time.

“i knew she’d react like this,” ryujin said to the other person sharing the space on the phone screen.

“i know… look,” donghyuck said to you after turning away from his now fiancé. “i told mark that he’s my best man because he’s my best friend, but i also told him to try and keep his distance. we both want the both of you there for us.” donghyuck was pouting a little, probably because he always got his way when he did that but you were mostly looking at ryujin. she was happy and you could tell, but her eyes were worried for you. and who were you to ruin this time for her?

“oh, of course babe. i can handle this, no worries at all!” you forced the smile to meet your eyes, hoping she’d buy it. she didn’t. but she admired your bravery in the moment and didn’t press you further.

“i’ll let you know the details, you’ll have to fly back home so don’t worry about the dresses or anything. i’ll take care of that for you!” she chirped.

“ryu, no! if i’m the maid of honor then i should help with this stuff!” but ryujin was already waving her hand dismissively.

“just focus on getting here, it’s going to be expensive enough to get plane tickets, let alone the back and forth. so we’ll make it one trip for the wedding and i’ll facetime you for everything.”

“at least let me plan the bachelorette party,” you argued. and ryujin smiled brightly at that.

“i wouldn’t dream of taking that away from you.”

after a few more minutes of honest congratulations and eye rolls for donghyuck, you hung up the phone and you sat back on the couch while you stared at the picture that was the home screen. running your hand through your hair, you sighed heavily. the picture of mark leaning against the short wall of the ice rink as he was laughing hysterically was staring back at you, the moment captured during your one year anniversary date. you had fallen while ice skating and he spent the first two minutes laughing before he pulled himself together to help you up. you had been recording at the time and it was your favorite picture.

even though it had been two months since you had left, you still didn’t have the heart to change it. just like you didn’t have the heart to fall out of love with him. this wedding would be the second hardest thing you’d have to do.

the first will always be the night you left.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you took everything that you had originally thought back. this would absolutely be the second hardest thing you’d ever have to do.

when ryujin sent you the seating arrangement for the wedding and let it slip that you’d have to walk with mark down the aisle, you nearly cried.

you did cry, actually.

luckily you knew where the letters were on your keyboard so you were able to type out a ‘sounds good to me, babe :)’ without actually seeing since your watery eyes were making the keyboard all but disappear.

you angrily brushed them away, getting so frustrated with your emotions and scolding yourself because you would have to get this under control in three months time. you still didn’t understand the rush of the wedding but it wasn’t your wedding to plan therefore you had no say in the matter. shaking your head you went back to your laptop to search for plane tickets to korea when the late night show’s host saying mark’s name caught your attention and you quickly whipped your head up to watch the tv.

“tonight we have with us, the up and coming star whose debut movie will be releasing this friday, mark lee!” the audience clapped and the thought of reaching for the remote to turn off the tv did not cross your mind; the idea of getting to see him aside from the random magazine cover made your heart ache but in that moment you wanted to brave the ache if only to get to see a smile from him.

mark walked on the set and waved at everyone, a bright smile on his face that you had been waiting for. his blue blazer complementing his black hair, and you couldn’t help but think about how handsome he looked. you were far too entranced to tell yourself to turn it off now.

“so!” the host said, clapping his hands together as mark took his seat adjacent to him. “welcome to the show.”

mark nodded along, “thank you for having me.”

“the pleasure is all ours, isn’t that right?” the host said to the crowd and they began the applause all over again. you noticed mark’s ears turning a little pink and you knew he was getting a little overwhelmed with the love from strangers.

“your debut movie dive into you, your very first role as an actor nonetheless, was making waves,” the host paused with a raised eyebrow while the crowd - and mark - laughed at his pun; then continued, “of the sundance festival. how did it feel to win awards so soon after wrapping up production?”

mark smiled and nodded along in answer, “it feels like it’s not real honestly, but also like my hard work has finally paid off. i never really thought i’d be here. i never thought i’d get to see this part of my dream come to pass but here i am. i can’t help but feel nervous, but also excited, you know? the director, cast, and crew were all welcoming and amazing to work with. i’ll truly remember this moment forever, and be grateful for it.” the host nodded along with mark as he answered his question at length, and then as he spoke the hosts lips pursed and he began tapping his chin.

“you said something very interesting just then, mark,” the host commented and mark raised an eyebrow at him suddenly looking around trying to figure out what it was exactly that he had said, as if the audience could help him find it.

“what? did i accidentally cuss and not realize it?” mark gave a nervous laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness. you were happy to see that although he had achieved his dream, he was still the same mark.

“oh no! and besides. it’s late night tv, you’re allowed to cuss here and there,” the host laughed a little before leaning forward on his desk and mark leaned closer as if they were going to share a secret.

“what i was curious about, and i’m sure what everyone else at home is curious about as well, is what you meant exactly by ‘this part of my dream’? what’s the other half… or whatever fraction of your dream that hasn’t come true yet?”

and mark’s eyebrows rose, “ahhh, that…” he hesitated while he scratched the back of his neck.

“i just meant… um, i just meant that the other part being that i wish that my- my friends were able to be here and celebrate this milestone with me.” mark was lying through his teeth, you could tell because as he said the word friends, his nose scrunched a little and that was always how you knew he was either lying or withholding something. but these people wouldn’t know that about him, and the shows host accepted the answer immediately. his face gave a look of understanding and almost concern.

“oh yeah, you came from korea for this movie, didn’t you?” and mark nodded in answer.

“yeah, they’re all back home supporting me but it’s okay. my best friend is getting married in a couple of months so i’ll be able to celebrate then with them in person!” and the host grinned widely at mark and then the camera.

“well that makes me happy for you, mark, truly! oh, and it looks like that’s all the time we have for tonight. everyone go watch dive into you when it releases in theatres this friday!”

the credits began to roll and mark was shot smiling and clapping, leaning over to say something to the host that the camera mic didn’t catch as the show ended. seeing his smile and being happy like that made the heart ache worsen, and you rubbed at your chest trying to ease the metaphorical pain. you weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. you weren’t sure if you’d be able to keep it together for this whole thing.

but for ryujin, you’d try.

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fuck this. you couldn’t do it.

you really really couldn’t do it.

after landing in korea you connected to the wifi of the airport only to receive one message from ryujin.

5:50 pm my baby 👭: mark will be picking u up from the airport, hyuck and i had last minute kinks to work out for the wedding but i’ll come and get u tonight for the bachelorette party! i’m so sorry 😞

she even had the nerve, the audacity to send the sad emoji but all you could do was feel your heart racing from anxiety. so you quickly typed back in a panic -

that’s ok! i can just take a taxi, no need for mark to come!

but she answered immediately as if she were waiting for your response, and her only message was, “he’s already there!”

and you were going to fucking kill her. you were absolutely going to murder her before she even got the chance to step one toe down the aisle. you didn’t even bother responding to the text, your anxiety and frustration making an uncomfortable mix in your chest and if you weren’t already thirty seconds from a panic attack, your phone buzzed again and with sweaty palms you checked it.

6:05 pm ml 🐯🥰: ryujin gave me your new number, sorry if this is weird. but i’m outside in the blue car, take your time though.

6:06 pm ml 🐯🥰: this is mark, btw

you internally screamed as you read the message over and over again, the contact name being another thing you also didn’t have the heart to change like your wallpaper, truly thinking you would never see it pop up again. you abruptly sat on the nearest bench as you waited for your checked luggage to arrive at the baggage carousel, the people who were standing around you edged further away from you. flashing you concerned looks at your apparent mental break down, but you could hardly even blink. you felt your heart rising in your throat and you tried to breathe through your nose and out through your mouth.

you tried slowly counting to five.

you tried breathing in for a few seconds and breathing out slower.

as you sat, you tried every calming technique you could think of.

it wasn’t until an elderly lady placed a gentle hand on your shoulder causing you to jump slightly and she gave you a kind look.

“everything is going to be okay,” she said as she gently rubbed your back and then just… walked away. the sudden appearance and disappearance of her making your panic halt in an instant in the distraction.

then the carousel whirred to life, and you had to rush over to haul your bag off of the moving belt before you had to wait for it to come around again. you really should have let it circle around a few times, but that idea came to you after you had already set the suitcase on the ground.

the kindness from the older woman, and the knowledge that you would be able to thoroughly murder your friend in a few short hours helped you to steel your nerves as you exited the airport and quickly found the blue car mark was driving.

it was easy to spot because he was literally leaning against it while he stared at his phone. you hesitated a moment, taking him in and god did he look good in those jeans and that sweater. the thoughts getting away from you before you could stop them but immediately scolded yourself.

steadying yourself with a quick breath, you rolled your suitcase up to the trunk and he jerked his head up at the sudden movement.

“oh, hi. i was waiting for a response from you- but, uh, um, here! let me get that.” he said quickly as he reached for your bag to help you heave it into the trunk but you put your hand up to stop him, taking a step back to create space.

“it’s okay,” you said, a little too curt with him. “i can do it myself.” and mark instantly deflated, your heart jumping at the need to fix that look.

no, you scolded yourself and internally forced your heart to still. he’s not yours anymore.

you made sure of that.

mark stepped back and let you lift up the heavy suitcase yourself, dropping it ever so gracefully in the trunk. you closed it and tried not to make eye contact as you moved around mark to get into the passenger seat. when you shut the door you couldn’t stop yourself from looking in the side mirror to see him frown and he shook his head at himself. you breathed a sigh of relief out. the ‘ripping off the bandaid’ part over and done with.

he got in to his side of the car smoothly, and you prepared yourself for an awkward silence the entire ride to the hotel.

“we’re staying at the same place, so that’s cool!” mark said casually, trying to create some form of conversation, of peace. you didn’t respond to what he said, instead opting for a different approach.

“you didn’t need to come and get me,” you said quietly as you stared at the passing cars on the road.

“i wanted to,” he said just as quietly, and you flinched internally at what sounded like sadness. he said your name, and then hesitated. after a few moments of silence, you saw his reflection in the window shake his head slightly as he decided against saying whatever it was.

“never mind.” was the last word uttered of the drive.

the tension weighed heavily on your already wounded heart.

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fate had it out for you. she must really enjoy screwing you over. because what you kept thinking would be the hardest part… kept continuously turning out to absolutely not be the hardest part, as if she were taunting you.

exhibit d:

“what do you mean my reservation was canceled?” you asked the hotel concierge for the third time in a row, causing her to sigh in frustration at you, finally cracking her happy persona she had to wear for her job.

“ma’am, i really don’t know how else to explain it to you. it says here it was canceled, and your room was already booked by someone else.”

“well unbook it!” you insisted, all but yelling out at that point, completely fed up. “i didn’t cancel my reservation, so it must have been a system error. isn’t there anything you can do to fix this?”

“i’m sorry,” the woman said again. “we’re fully booked for a wedding that’s taking place in a few days.”

“i-“ you paused pinching the bridge of your nose tightly, taking a moment to deeply inhale. you were going to have to google better calming techniques. “i. know. because i am in that wedding!” you hissed between clenched teeth and when the woman reached for the phone in fear, to call what you presumed was the security, mark stepped in suddenly. he leaned against the tall counter, and his sudden closeness made you jerk your head up to make eye contact with him.

“i booked a suite with an extra bed, it may be a little… um, awkward but the bed is yours if you want it.” his ears were turning red, but his voice sounded genuine. as if he truly meant his offer and god you wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and never come out. knowing your options were limited to this or staying with your parents who lived two hours outside of the city, you really didn’t have any other choice.

fate was absolutely fucking with you just because she could, was the only thought on replay as you were getting ready in the bathroom for the bachelorette party that night. considering you had slept on the plane, you weren’t tired yet and you figured you’d be able to sleep off the jetlag with a nice hangover before the rehearsal dinner the next evening. putting the final touches on your makeup, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you could do this.

you could do this.

you could do this.

you repeated those three sentences like a mantra to yourself over and over, trying to give yourself the confidence to leave the room and be in the same space as mark again, but it seemed like the universe had different plans as your inner musings were interrupted.

“you look… really pretty.” he said in the entrance of the bathroom, his body blocking the only exit from the room. you looked down to avoid the eye contact in the mirror he was giving you, and muttered a quiet, “thank you.”

he paused a moment more before saying your name, for the second time since you had seen him, and hearing his voice saying your name in that way as opposed to the first time… it almost made tears spring to your eyes.

“i just wanted-“ he started, but for the first time since you had been told of this wedding, something (because it definitely wasn’t fate) decided to take pity on you and give you a break because at that moment you got a text from ryujin.

9:45 pm murder victim (1) 🔪: here babe!!

and you instantly sighed in relief. cutting mark off from what you were sure he had spent the last hour building up the courage to say, you turned on your heel and said, “ryu’s here! gotta go.”

you brushed past him to exit the hotel room, not even noticing that you had forgotten the door key on your way out.

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it was three am.

or maybe four.

you weren’t sure.

you spent the first twenty minutes of the night scolding the hell out of ryujin in the back of the uber and she just took it with a grin.

“and just what is so funny?” you huffed at her, crossing your arms and allowing your brows to stay furrowed.

“it’s almost like the universe is telling you to get back together.” she sang, and wiggled her eyebrows at you. you threw your hands up in exasperation, drawing eyes from the driver through the rearview mirror. giving a slight bow of apology to him you turned back to ryujin only to roll your eyes at her.

“no, the universe likes watching me hit a newly discovered rock bottom. we’re not getting back together and i’m sure he’ll be happy to have me gone once your wedding is over.” ryujin only shrugged and you didn’t hear it when she muttered, “i wouldn’t be so sure.”

when the uber dropped you off in front of the first club of the night, your sour mood dispersed in a second as you headed inside.

you and ryujin, along with her other bridesmaids in her party, heejin, yeji, and jimin had bounced from club to club and you had thoroughly drank your cares away. you were no longer thinking about how fate was a bitch. you were no longer thinking about the doom and gloom you were feeling.

you were no longer thinking about mark.

except that last one was a lie because he was the only thought that occupied your brain through the night, so much so that ryujin had to cover your mouth with her hand to stop your rambling about him.

but as the dawn crept closer and closer, all of you were calling it quits. yeji had lost a shoe somewhere along the way and jimin had left thirty minutes before, taking a whiny yeji with her; heejin was finally getting into her uber after ten minutes of drunkenly explaining that no, she wasn’t in the building the street over, and yes the gps was actually wrong. it just left you and ryujin as you waited for donghyuck to come pick you up, knowing he was on standby for the designated driver role of the morning. ryujin held your hand and affectionately laid her head on your shoulder. you copied the action and turned so you could hug each other and sway back and forth, the scene cute if not for the fact that anyone watching could tell that you were both heavily intoxicated if the giggles coming from you both after each dramatic sway were any indicator.

“you know everything is gonna be okay,” she slurred a little too loudly in your ear and the phrase made you think of something but you couldn’t quite remember what it was.

“i know,” you giggled at her, grinning brightly and you both squeezed each other tighter. you couldn’t remember in that moment what needed to be okay.

“hey, that’s my future wife! if you wanted her you should have proposed first!” you both turned to see donghyuck smiling widely, as he leaned across the center console to be able to tease you both out of the passenger window. you answered by sticking your tongue out childishly at him and ryujin answered by kissing your cheek with a loud, exaggerated smack, leaving a red stain on your cheek from what was left of her lipstick.

“i could have had her years before you even knew her, and i’ll have her years after you. remember that!” you said while pointing your fingers at your eyes and turning them on him. he rolled his eyes and sarcastically mimicked your response before motioning for you both to get in the car.

the drive back to the hotel was quiet and for the first time that night you checked your phone.

11:03 pm ml 🐯🥰: hey, i just noticed you left your keycard to get back in the hotel

12:00 am ml 🐯🥰: i’ll sleep with my phone off of silent, just call when you get back and i’ll let you in

2:15 am ml 🐯🥰: please be safe, let me know if i need to come get you

your heart fluttered at his messages and you drunkenly smiled at how he still cared. you covered your mouth to hide your smile but the sober one in the car didn’t miss the way your eyes lit up in a way that neither he nor ryujin had seen on you in five months. he could only smirk to himself as he drove, promising to himself to tell ryujin about what he saw the next morning.

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you stumbled your way down the hallway, stopping and taking off one shoe as it was rubbing your foot painfully. then after a few steps you realized how silly it was to walk with one heel on and you clumsily leaned against the wall to pull off the other shoe. arriving to the door, you giggled at the idea of getting to call and talk to mark.

mark was here, with you.

you were here, with mark.

something you’d never thought would happen again and it made your heart soar. giggling again at that thought you pulled out your phone. hitting the call button, he picked up after the third ring and you sighed as you leaned against the door frame, allowing it to hold you up.

“hello?” his voice was raspy from sleep and it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“hi,” you giggled once more, and you internally smacked yourself this time.

play it cool or don’t talk yourself into sounding like an idiot, you told yourself.

“hi,” he parroted back to you. “are you okay? do i need to come get you?”

“yeah, can you please?” and you heard rustling through the phone.

“okay, i’m on my way. where are you?” he didn’t hesitate. he didn’t even sigh. he didn’t seem annoyed by having to help you. he seemed… almost happy in the way he said his words. as if you could audibly hear the smile. but maybe that was the alcohol letting you hear what you wanted to hear. you heard him walking around in the hotel room through the phone, and saw a light flick on from the little sliver of a gap under the door.

“on the other side of the door,” you smiled, laughing a little harder at your own joke and the door jerked open to reveal mark in all his sleepy glory. shirt wrinkled and hair sticking out at in odd directions. his relief, however, made way to his smile and he couldn’t help but stare down at you for a moment… but you, you were definitely still drunk. and who needs inhibitions to tell you not to do something anyways? not you, that’s for sure.

“my pretty maaaark!” you sang, as you threw yourself against him, or well, fell against him would be a better term for what happened.

he froze at the sudden affection from you, arms raised at awkward angles above your body before allowing his arms to lower and hug you back gently.

“i’m so sleepy, mark.” you slurred against his chest and you nuzzled your cheek against it, thinking about how soft this shirt was. he huffed a small laugh and pulled you further into the room so he could close the door.

“okay, let’s get you to bed then. c’mon.” and he helped you walk (in reality he half carried you) towards the shared bedroom.

“mark,” you called his name again softly. he glanced down at you and he noticed you were already looking up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist.

“mm?” he answered as he navigated you finally over to the bed.

“i’m so happy,” you said to him and somehow, fate again you assumed - that bitch - you simultaneously tripped over your own drunk feet and tumbled back onto the bed. your arms that were still wrapped around his waist gave him no choice but to fall with you, or well, on top of you. he caught himself instead of crushing you, an arm on each side of your head, caging you in.

he looked down at you and your body acting off it’s own accord by gripping his shirt tightly at his waist. you couldn’t help but stare at his face for a few long seconds, eyes going from his eyes, up to his hair, down to his lips, back to his eyes, and then back to his lips one last time.

“and why is that?” he asked, bringing you back to the moment before you tripped. and although your eyes had drifted back up to his eyes, he noticed that yours started to slowly flutter closed, as if you were fighting sleep but the alcohol was winning. your bright smile you gave him while you were thinking of the answer made his heart beat fast, but the words you said next made it stop entirely.

“because i get to be here with you, even if it’s just for a moment. i missed you so much, my mark, all marked in my heart.” you laughed softly again at your own joke, referencing back to a pickup line he had given you that made you say yes to his first request of a date. he couldn’t help the melancholy feeling that overcame him as he looked down at your sleeping form, the alcohol finally taking you from awake to asleep within seconds.

“i’m happy too,” he whispered though you didn’t hear it.

if only you knew how happy he actually was.

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the next day, you surprisingly slept well considering it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon and you were still in your clothes from last night. the curtains were drawn tightly as to not let any light in, and you groaned at the headache that pulsed behind your eyelids. you knew the room was empty based on the the silence and you were grateful for it as you felt embarrassed by your actions the night before. why the hell would you say that to mark? if you wanted him to hate you, well, you were doing a damn good job of solidifying that. you searched for your phone amongst the blankets and pillows to check your messages.

11:15 am murder victim (2) 🔫: mark said earlier that you forgot your key, hope you ‘got in’ okay ;)

11:30 am murder victim (1) 🔪: hi babe, how’s the hangover? the rehearsal is at 5. text me when u get up, ily 😘

11:47 am ml 🐯🥰: i put tylenol by the bed with some water, i would have ordered you food but didn’t know what time you’d be getting up. see you later

your heart gave way at the kind gesture as you flipped on a light switch and squinted at the brightness, quickly finding the medicine and downing it in one go to quickly turn off the light again.

maybe he wasn’t hating you like you thought.

you gave yourself thirty minutes to try and let the headache lose the battle with the medicine you took and finally rolled out of bed to take a shower, doing everything you could think of to keep mark and his never ending kindness off of your mind. you got ready in record time, and somehow made it to the rehearsal on time with five minutes to spare.

you ran through the wedding fairly quickly, and you most certainly did not blush as mark took your arms in his to walk you down the aisle for the practice run. besides that, you didn’t get a chance to look at mark until it came to dinner with the wedding party for the night.

fate, and you couldn’t say you were mad at her this time, had allowed mark to sit next to you during dinner.

“so mark,” yeji had said as she stuffed a piece of broccoli into her mouth. “what’s it like being famous now?”

he groaned in answer. his hand moved ever so slightly to the right and his pinky was suddenly touching yours. your eyes widened but you didn’t move your hand away, allowing his hand to rest next to yours. it felt like something from middle school when you would get excited over your crush, your eyes laser-focused on where you were connected.

“i mean, of course i’m happy to have found success in it.”

success.

that word alone sent you back to The Moment five months ago.

success was all that you wanted for mark, you were happy to watch him as he acted on set. with the way his schedule had been lining up, you hardly saw him. so when you suggested that maybe you could spend the day with him on set while he worked, he didn’t say no to you. it made you happy that he made you feel like he was fitting time in with you even if he was insanely busy.

you missed spending time with him, and you really… just… missed him. his absence making your worries and self doubts grow more eminent but you were both usually good at communicating so it wasn’t a constant worry, but the worry was there all the same.

mark had just left you to begin another scene, leaving you sitting in his chair that was off to the side and you couldn’t stop your eyes from following him around the room, watching his interactions with his cast mates.

a body landing into the chair next to yours caused you to jump and you turned to see his manager sitting next to you, leaning to the side to be just on the verge of invading your space. she was a stone faced woman, perfectly presented down to the red polish of her nails.

you had only met her a few times but she seemed… nice enough. you couldn’t deny that she worked hard to get mark solid chances and auditions so you appreciated her as mark did.

the situation at hand made you uncomfortable for some reason though, your gut telling you to move away from her.

you didn’t listen.

“so,” his manager began slowly, not making eye contact with you, instead her eyes were following mark as yours had been doing moments before.

“so…?” you prompted when she didn’t begin speaking right away.

“we need to talk… and i’m taking the initiative because mark’s too kind and won’t do it.” this caught you off guard entirely. mark was keeping something from you? you were both good terrible secret keepers with each other and this seemed so unlike him.

but, you thought, his manager was with him when you weren’t so maybe…

“oh…” you said, and finally his manager made eye contact with you. the cold stare she was giving you sent shivers down your spine.

“look, sweetie. this… this relationship you have with mark. it isn’t working.” and she patted you on the shoulder as if this were good news. “it isn’t going to work for his image or his future. you know you’re holding him back from the future he could have. the future he deserves. why do you want to burden him any further than you already have?” she asked, voice dripping with a sense of sweetness that screamed condescension.

you stilled at that instantly. the thought that you may have been the problem the entire time you were together… that you were the reason as to why he couldn’t get auditions… you would be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind.

“but mark never said…” you argued weakly, playing with your fingers all while trying not to make eye contact with the woman sitting next to you.

“of course he wouldn’t, dear. he knows you’re too… fragile.” she sneered at the last word, her disdain for you being glaringly obvious as the conversation carried on. your anxiety made you fragile? mark had talked about you to her?

when you didn’t respond right away, mind racing, mark’s manager stood up.

“if you want to be selfish, and ruin his chances at success then that’s fine. just know any future failures would be on you. if you truly loved him, you’d do this for him. you’d leave.” her voice changed sharply within that sentence, the word selfish becoming a thicker blanket on top of burden in your mind and it was like you couldn’t breathe.

the anxiety stemming from the words she had just said - the fears you had been harboring for months, the thoughts that you had been smothering like a fire in the back of your mind suddenly roared to life, and the sudden heat was too hot for you to handle in the moment.

the idea of mark possibly resenting you in the future for things you knew were out of your control, it shook you… and it was minutes of spiraling into yourself before you realized that his manger had been long gone and the director had called cut.

mark stopped by where you sat for a brief moment to tell you that he had to go to the the hair and makeup trailer and he would be back soon. the fact that he didn’t tell you that he loved you with a quick kiss like he usually would being the final nail in the coffin for you in believing every word.

you got up and left the set that day, going to your shared home with mark and realized there wasn’t much that you wanted to take anyway. your heart was shattered and everything you’d take would only remind you of him.

you had packed a suitcase, and sat for a long time contemplating if you wanted to leave a letter but then ultimately decided that if he was already feeling burdened by you, you’d be doing him a favor by not making it hard on him. or well, any harder.

allowing that memory to play all the way through for the first time since seeing him made you feel as if reality had punched you in the stomach, and it sobered you up quickly. the heavy weight of your anxiety was back and it settled on your chest. the bubble of happiness you felt at the slightest touch, at the first sight of him after being apart from him for so long… all gone in an instant.

remember you’re the burden, you did this for him, you chided yourself sadly in your head. you were the reason why you both were estranged.

you gently moved your hand away to rest it in your lap. mark cut his eyes to you suddenly but you missed the glance and you missed the way he was still looking at you as he said, “but i’m just happy to be here with you… with all of you again.”

he tore his eyes away from your face to look at yeji and she smiled knowingly, eyes darting from mark to you. the room felt small to you then, almost suffocating. the sudden appearance of someone to the table brought you to the present.

“dessert will be coming out soon,” the waitress said to ryujin.

your appetite was gone entirely, and you had to get out of there. you leaned over and whispered in ryujin’s ear that you loved her but you were heading up to the room. you felt the tears were coming, because reality was the bitch this time instead of fate.

the kindness mark was showing you during all of this was making your heart ache and it was bringing up the pain that you desperately fought off for five months. excusing yourself from the table, you told everyone goodnight and made a beeline for the elevator that would take you up to the room.

stepping inside and punching the floor number, you hit the close door button frantically and bit your lip to try and keep the tears from coming as long as possible. the doors were almost closed when a hand suddenly blocked it and it opened again, revealing mark and he stepped inside, awkwardly coughing at the dramatics of it all.

you stepped to the side of the elevator and didn’t look up from your fingernails that you played with to avoid eye contact at all costs. the awkward tension filled the elevator thickly and you could feel mark’s stare boring holes into the side of your head. when the elevator finally dinged with the arrival of your floor, you’d never felt more grateful for the annoying sound.

all but running from the elevator, you headed to the room only to realize that, fuck, yes you were actually staying in mark’s room and no, he wasn’t riding the elevator for fun. his steps sounded behind yours and you pointedly didn’t say a word to him as you both entered the room. his presence didn’t deter your tears that had been threatening to spill, in fact it only made them more prevalent and it was taking all that you could do to not let them fall. the click of the door being shut made you flinch a little in anticipation of what came next, and mark cleared his throat.

“so, um…” he began, hesitating while trying to find the right words on how to approach this before continuing. “i think - i think we should talk. you said something’s last night and it… it really has me confused and i just need, no, i deserve an explanation.” when he finished his sentence his words sounded pained.

you did guess that you owed him an explanation.

but you didn’t want to give it to him.

the same way you felt you deserved one as well, but you didn’t want the confirmation.

“i’m sorry, mark.” you said, voice barely above a whisper. and it was the only thing you had to say in that moment, anything over three words and your voice would have cracked. you kept your back to him as you walked over to the bathroom and shut the door, not wanting to see his face during this.

you really were a coward, you thought.

you heard mark approach the other side of the door and stop.

“you’re- you’re sorry?” he asked, and then with a hint of sarcasm, he finally decided to bring up the biggest and obvious elephant in the room. “you’re sorry for what? leaving or are you sorry for what you said last night? are you going to tell me you didn’t mean it now?” and you could only shake your head even though he couldn’t see.

“all of it.” you choked out.

“all- ha, all of it?” his laugh was dry. your silence was answer enough.

“you left me. you left me without an explanation. without a single note and then you changed your number! i thought you had just left the set but i came home to find you gone. what could i have possibly done that would have deserved that? what did i do?”

“it’s…” you started from the other side of the door, tears falling at the desperation in his voice. but mark was on a roll, months of pent up frustration and sadness finally boiling over.

“you were there with me and then you weren’t and you hurt me, y/n. you absolutely broke my heart, you know that? i almost quit the movie entirely.”

“if you had, then it would have been for nothing.” you cried from the other side of the door.

“what are you even talking about?”

you flung open the door suddenly, mark taking in your tear stained face, your eyes red and bloodshot.

“i left you for you, mark.”

“i don’t-.”

“you said i broke your heart, but i broke my own first. i left you for you!”

“i never asked you to do that!”

“you didn’t have to! she did it for you. i left so i wouldn’t hold you back anymore. i was holding you back, i was burdening you, i was keeping you from the successful career you worked so hard to achieve.” you placed your hand on your chest and took a deep breath, “i admit that i was a coward in not waiting, but i couldn’t handle hearing the confirmation of it all from you. so i did it for you, i left so i wouldn’t be selfish.” you spat out the last word like it was poison, the word that had been torturing you these past five months, all while pointing your finger at mark as if to drive home your point.

“she-? you… selfish? what the hell are you even talking about?” he asked, eyebrows fully drawn together in confusion. you scoffed.

“don’t act as if you hadn’t talked to her about me. about how you couldn’t tell me any of this because i was fragile.” your mouth twisted with that sentence, and your emotions didn’t know whether to be angry or sad. so you continued to cry because, yeah, that would cover all the bases.

marks mouth clicked shut as things started to come together in his mind. pieces falling into place and then he was suddenly livid.

mark was silent for a moment, his lips pursed and his eyes thunderous - you could only assume that fury was directed at you considering his eyes never left yours, and you swallowed nervously.

“y/n…” mark started slowly, his voice dropping dangerously low in his anger, “who exactly do you mean when you say the word ‘she’?”

you hesitated a little, never knowing mark to get this angry.

“your… manager.” you murmured and mark’s jaw clenched, and you felt your anger dissipate entirely as his took over. as the seconds ticked on, you watched as mark reached into his back pocket and withdrew his phone, he only broke eye contact for a second to click the name he was searching for and he brought his eyes back to yours. your eyebrows drew together in confusion.

who would he be calling during the middle of the argument - and finally you heard it when the other person answered the phone and you could recognize that sickly sweet voice anywhere. your jaw dropped and you made to stomp away when mark used his other hand to gently hold onto your arm, pulling you a bit closer than you were before to stand in front of him.

“mark, honey, i’ve been waiting for you to call! how’s korea? you just have to tell me all about it.” she asked loudly through the phone and you frowned at the way she spoke to mark.

“korea’s fine,” he chirped politely as if his eyes weren’t telling you otherwise. “my family is well, the wedding is going as planned, and linda, you’ll never guess who i ran into!”

“oh do tell, you know i love the gossip.” she laughed through the phone and you saw mark’s eyes darken.

“y/n.” the anger in which he said your name, but it not being directed at you, was both a relief and worried you at the same time.

the deafening silence from her end was answer enough for mark.

“and she told me the funniest story,” snark dripping from every word, “hilarious actually. but i think i’d rather hear it from the horses mouth, you know?”

“look, mark, sweetie, i’m sure she misunderstood or she must have been confused by our conversation that day, i only meant to tell her-“

“what?” mark interjected. “tell her that she was burdening me? holding me back? that i called her fragile? i think that’s exactly what you meant.”

she hesitated before answering, but her answering tone was the same as she used with you that day.

sweet condescension.

“well, yes. she was bad for you,” she said shortly.

“oh no, i disagree entirely. i think the one bad for me, was in fact, you.” and she sputtered on the other end of the phone and you couldn’t help the small upturn of your lips to hear her at a loss for words, the smile not going unnoticed by mark if the softening of his eyes were any indicator.

you realized in that moment how you let your anxiety and self doubts ruin something that was perfectly fine to begin with.

linda scoffed, the haughty sound coming in loud through the phone’s speaker.

“oh, please. you’ll thank me someday when you’re big and famous, dating some supermodel. someone at your level of fame.”

mark was silent, his eyes taking in your face and he knew how hard hearing things like this must have been for you. he knew of your insecurities, and he thought he did his best to reassure you but he realized the one time it mattered most, he let it slip through the cracks.

he realized his lack of presence in that moment ruined what you both had.

linda took his extended pause as agreement with what she was saying.

“see? you know that i’m right. anyway, mark, honey, let’s-!” mark cut her off mid-sentence.

“no, what i know… is that you’re fired.” he said calmly, and your eyebrows raised and your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to argue - yes, you hated the woman but she had helped him with his career. mark lifted the hand that had been gently holding your arm to place a finger on your lips, effectively shutting you up with a smile on his face.

linda screeched through the phone, an abrasive noise that sounded awfully like a dying cat.

“you can’t fire me, you ungrateful d-.” and mark hung up the phone, tossing it onto the counter of the kitchenette behind him.

you swallowed thickly now at the sudden silence that fell over the room. mark moved his hand from your lips to wipe the tears that had ran down your face earlier and you avoided eye contact with him then at the gentleness of his hands.

“mark, i…”

“you said you loved me, so you left. did you stay away because you loved me too? change your number for the same reason?”

you nodded, “i thought i would be making it easier for you…”

“do you still love me now?” your eyes snapped back up to his. you decided to be truthful.

“i can’t do anything but love you.” mark’s smile at your answer ignited butterflies in your stomach.

“and i…” he said stepping closer into your space, reaching down to hold your hand in his as he brought it to his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm that you could feel. “i have no choice but to love you.”

you felt tears well up again in your eyes at his admission, and you bit your lip to try to keep them from spilling over.

“you still… are you still in love with me?” your voice quivered, and you cleared your throat trying to tame the burning sensation that came with holding back your tears.

“without a doubt.”

“well, if you really do love me… if you love me like i love you then…” you looked between his eyes to his lips, and as you blinked the tears you had been holding back fell. and mark tilted his head, his playful smile making you smile with him through the tears.

“then kiss me.”

mark didn’t waste any more time, one hand tangling itself in your hair and the other cupping your jaw tenderly and you melted into the kiss, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling his body flush against yours. five months of anger and sadness and longing pouring out in the movement of your lips. you were crying still but the tears were more out of happiness this time and mark continued to kiss you through it. he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, lips centimeters from yours, his breath hitting your lips and you closed your eyes, both of you breathing heavily. his voice was soft when he spoke.

“five months spent wasted because i didn’t reassure you enough, i’m… i’m so sorry, y/n.”

“and five months gone because i was too afraid to talk to you… i’m sorry, too.” and you opened your eyes to see he had tears in his eyes this time and you let out a small laugh.

“did you miss me that much?” you joked softly, eyes shining with the happiness that you had pushed down finally seeping through.

“shut up,” he groaned and swept in to kiss you again.

that night, neither of you slept alone in your separate beds.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

the next day found you and mark, surprisingly (to everyone else) friendly, almost flirty, with each other and it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else in the wedding party. ryujin walked down the aisle to an overjoyed donghyuck and the proceedings went on without a hitch.

the reception was loud, and a bit wild as after the first dance, no other slow song was played. ryujin and donghyuck made it feel like you were clubbing, and if you danced with mark a tiny bit provocatively, no one seemed to notice or care.

during one of your breaks from dancing while you stood near one of the tables, you felt a hand tap on your shoulder and you turned to face them. once you saw their face, your jaw dropped.

“it’s you!” you couldn’t help the gratitude that laced your voice.

the old lady from the airport stood there, the wrinkles from years of smiling showing proudly on her face.

“see, i told you everything would be okay, didn’t i?”

you nodded, smiling and you couldn’t help yourself when you leaned in and gave the woman a hug.

“grandma? you know y/n?” it was mark’s confused voice that came from over your shoulder, coming behind you to rest his hand on the small of your back.

“oh, not really…” she gave you a secret smile, and continued, “but mark, dear. do tell ryujin and donghyuck it was a beautiful wedding for me, i’m sorry but i’m too old to stay up with the younger crowd nowadays.” she patted mark on the arm and said goodnight to you both, leaving you with a wink. mark looked back and forth between you and her and you only shrugged in answer, and you pulled him back out to the dance floor with a smile.

eventually, the night had to come to an end though, but not before the traditional throwing of the bouquet. you were pulled onto the floor with the other bridesmaids and the second ryujin tossed the flowers over her head, the other girls dispersed leaving you to be the only one standing to catch it. you were confused at first but when ryujin gave you a knowing smile, you couldn’t help but laugh at their group effort. and so you turned around to find mark smiling at you and clapping at the edge of the crowd, and you smiled brightly at him as if he hung the stars himself, newfound confidence in every step as you walked up to him.

you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him fully in front of the guests who remained, mostly the small group of friends who all knew each other well. mark wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you slightly off the ground, while your friends cheered dramatically behind you.

breaking the kiss you smiled at mark before he set you down, and both you and mark turned and caught sight of ryujin and donghyuck sharing a highly triumphant high five.

it all clicked then, every step had been planned by your cunning best friend… and you couldn’t even be mad anymore.

how could you be, when it all turned out to be okay?

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

epilogue:

you sat at the table of celebrities like you belonged there, no longer feeling as if you were the misfit amongst them.

a year and a half had passed since ryujin and donghyuck’s wedding and with it came changes.

all of them, you could say, were good.

you battled your anxiety and won… well mostly won, you still had your moments but the second you called mark for reassurance, he was there in an instant with gentle words of affirmation, which you discovered was your love language.

you and mark got married six months after donghyuck and ryujin did, and mark’s reasoning was sound in his opinion.

“i spent five months apart from you, and i think i’ll die if i have to do it again. so i’m locking you down, babe.”

you couldn’t argue with him on that.

and now this moment, the moment where upon hearing mark’s name being called you stood up and cheered, clapping a little louder than the famous people next to you. mark kissed you quickly before running up on stage to receive his award.

it wasn’t an oscar… yet.

but the golden globe would do.

his speech went as he rehearsed with you in your bedroom in the off chance he won. being nominated was enough for him, he had said but you encouraged him to have a speech prepared, just in case.

you had no doubts he would win tonight.

you were right.

his speech was coming to an end, something you could quote with him word for word, until you heard him derail from what he practiced beforehand.

“and i just wanna say the biggest thanks of all to my wife. who, without her, only half of my dream would have been achieved,” he gestured the award to you and the smile he wore was lighting up his entire face. “without you, this wouldn’t matter at all to me. so this one’s all for you, babe. thank you.”

you stood and clapped again, accepting mark back to his seat with an excited hug.

fate - well, ryujin - may have had it out for you, but it was okay in the end.

and you could honestly live with that.

#gimmehyuck #masterlist #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct #nct dream #nct dream au #mark au #mark lee #mark lee au #mark lee fic #mark lee x you #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #technically? #this made me fall for mark so hard ngl #he’s so precious

[kingdumkum]

WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.

summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)

cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.

dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛

Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.

It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.

An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.

The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.

You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up. 

It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?

Nothing from Tadashi.

You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.

Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.

But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.

Again.

Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”

“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“

“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?” 

Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”

“Baji.”

The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”

You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”

Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—

“I’m outside.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”

“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”

Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”

Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”

You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”

Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…

You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.

“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”

Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—

By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.

When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.

You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.

Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms. 

You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you. 

Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”

“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”

“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.

But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.

He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”

Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely. 

“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.

“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”

Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.

You almost do.

Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”

The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.

Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.

That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.

It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.

“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.

“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?

Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—

“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.

“Asshole.” 

Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.

“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.

He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.

Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours. 

You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm. 

But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.

Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.

You can’t remember when things got so complicated.

When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.

Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.

Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.

So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.

And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.

Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.

Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.

Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”

“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”

He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”

The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—

“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.

He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”

You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’

He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.

If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…

Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.

The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.

“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.

One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.

So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.

“Did it hurt?”

Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”

Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”

You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.

But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.

You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.

Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.

You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.

At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.

The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you. 

“What’s… wrong with me?”

Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.

But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.” 

Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—

But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck you, Keisuke.”

“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”

“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—” 

This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.

“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”

“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“

“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“

“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”

“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”

“They don’t deserve you—”

“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”

“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”

The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“

“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”

“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“

“Because they let me stand in the way!”

The world stills. 

You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…

He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.

He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.

Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.

Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.

It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.

You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you. 

When your gazes meet, you wait.

“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”

“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”

“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.

You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”

When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.

“I stopped them.”

For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.

“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”

He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?

Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.

“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”

Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”

You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”

Then you lean forward and kiss him.

In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—

Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—

Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.

“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”

A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.

“Say it again.”

It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“

“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”

“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.

“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”

“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”

He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.

You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real. 

For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”

“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.

You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.

“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.

“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago. 

“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”

He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.

You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“

“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”

Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.

“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”

He doesn’t need more encouragement. 

Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.

“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.” 

Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.

“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.

“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.

You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—

But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.

Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.

You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.

Loudly.

Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.

“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”

“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”

“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes. 

You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“

You gasp when his teeth break skin.

Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.

You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.

“M’sorry…”

A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—” 

He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.

“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you’re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”

“Ididntmakeit.”

You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).

This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.

Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.

Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.

Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”

“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.

Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”

“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.

“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.

“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that? 

The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.

So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face. 

“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth. 

But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”

He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”

You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”

Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth. 

He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”

The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.

So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”

This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”

Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face. 

“I’d like that.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.

“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”

You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.

“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.

“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”

“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.

He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.

“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.

“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.

“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“

“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”

He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”

You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”

Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway. 

“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.” 

You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.

The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold. 

You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.

“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”

“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”

“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”

He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.

“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”

“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”

“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.

Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.

None so… blatant. So unmistakable.

Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.

“You’re… in love with me?” 

Keisuke blinks.

For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”

You kiss him.

The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.

There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”

Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.

He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.

He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?

“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.

He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist. 

“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”

You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—

The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.

Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”

Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.

Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name. 

“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“

“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”

His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.

“Kei?”

He doesn’t look up. 

His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.

You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”

Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.

Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt. 

Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.

“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?” 

You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you. 

He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”

“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.

There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.

He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.

When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.

Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”

It sends you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“

“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”

You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.

 The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.

Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.

“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”

A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.

Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.” 

“I love you too, Kei.”

He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.

He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.

“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.

When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”

Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along. 

The answer comes easily.

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”

“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”

Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”

“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.

Your face scrunches when he adds a second.

“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.

You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”

He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.

They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.

“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.

Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”

“Then how—“

“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.

You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.” 

It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.

“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.

“Too much?”

Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”

Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”

If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.

When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”

With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”

You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.

“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.

“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.

You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.

His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.

“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.

The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.

Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.

Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it. 

A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.

“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“

“You’re big.”

Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”

You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”

Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”

Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.

You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”

It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.

He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.

“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”

You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”

With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”

He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.

You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?” 

His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.

“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.

“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can. 

He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot. 

Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped. 

The world is only real for the two of you.

He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.

He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.

“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.

It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—

“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”

You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.

“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.

Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all. 

You never realized how empty you were.

Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.

“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”

Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.

Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”

You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“

“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“

You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.

You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.

You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.

He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.

The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.

Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.

Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you. 

Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.

His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.

“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.

You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”

Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.

You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”

You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”

He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”

“For me?”

He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”

With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”

He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”

“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”

Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.

“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.

So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!

hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!

#baji #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #baji smut #keisuke baji smut #baji x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #keisuke baji x reader smut #tokyo rev smut

[biconickyoshi]

Okay y’all… I was very critical of eps 3 & 4 (especially 4) of NAtLA. Then all of a sudden eps 5 & 6 kinda slapped me in the face with how much better the show suddenly got.

Spoiler-free thoughts first:

Zuko, Iroh, and Aang have cemented themselves as the best parts about this adaptation - which is really funny considering I’m currently writing a longfic AU where Zuko and Iroh discover Aang in the iceberg right after Zuko is banished at age 13 and end up becoming the first members of the Gaang (albeit reluctantly at first lol). Episode 6: “Masks” (the Blue Spirit adaptation) was so good, I’d venture to say that it actually improved and fleshed out some things from the original series.

Episode 5: “Spirited Away”, while not as good as E6, was not as bad as I heard people say it was going to be. I think that the changes they did make didn’t bother me nearly as much as the changes they made in the last episode, and it was actually entertaining.

There were several scenes that made me cry in both of these episodes (moreso in episode 6, which I’ll get into further down in the spoiler section). These are the scenes that I feel like really tapped into the heart of the original show rather than feeling like a soulless remake.

Now for my in-depth thoughts (INCLUDES SPOILERS):

EP 5: “Spirited Away”

- Staring out, I was bummed because I had just rewatched the first two eps of the original animated series lol.

- It was an interesting choice to have all three members of the Gaang get stuck in the Spirit World, but I think it worked.

- Wan Shi Tong just showing up randomly was a bit unnecessary, but I suppose it will be kinda interesting to see him again in S2 since he’s already met the Gaang

- Hei Bai plays a much smaller role in these eps, but I strangely didn’t mind that either?

- Seeing Katara’s last memory with her mom was devastating, especially the fact that she had to witness her death and hide in the igloo with Kya’s charred body :(( she definitely has severe PTSD.

- Even Sokka’s memory made me tear up a bit

- Koh being the villain and a soul-eater or whatever was a bit of an odd choice, but I guess I can see why they did it. I do prefer him just being an asshole who steals ppl’s faces lol

- Appreciated the Fog of Lost Souls reference from the LoK lore

- Aang reuniting with Gyatso made me cry. I know some people didn’t like him being in the Spirit World, but I really liked it. Also, the fact that Gyatso was the first person to tell Aang that it wasn’t his fault the Air Nomads died, and that if he had been there he would have died too? THANK YOU! My poor boy has been berated enough for “abandoning” the world.

- We got some interesting lore about the afterlife for humans from Gyatso and Aang’s convo, which we’ve never gotten in AtLA media before. Idk if it’s just for Air Nomads, but Aang mentions that Gyatso stayed behind instead of “seeking enlightenment”. I know that the end goal in Buddhism is to reincarnate until you eventually achieve nirvana, so I wonder if that’s what they were alluding to (I’m not an expert on religions so pls correct me if I’m wrong)

- Oh yeah, I forgot June is here lmao. As a queer person I loved her (bc beautiful goth woman) but I didn’t like the weird choice to make her hit on Iroh - I guess to contrast the Iroh being creepy towards her thing in the OG series. I wish they would have just had them interact normally tbh, no weird “flirting”

EP 6: “Masks”

- Here we go y’all. The best episode in the show so far and probably the best the show is gonna get this season. I’m still pretty shocked at how good this one was.

- I think the decision to include flashbacks to Zuko’s Agni Kai was a good decision here. It felt like an appropriate episode for them and the flashbacks were very well done.

- In general, Dallas is doing a phenomenal job at portraying a Zuko who is angry and aggressive, yes, but also so very sweet and compassionate at his core. I love when little inklings of his true self shine through.

- Roku was… not what I expected. He was very much more of a lighthearted and jokey person… I didn’t hate it, it was just unexpected lol. I wonder if they did that to contrast him with Kyoshi. Which, speaking of, I’m glad Roku clarified that Aang doesn’t just need to be a merciless warrior (and that he didn’t berate Aang for “abandoning” the world like she did). But I still am annoyed about the mischaracterization of Kyoshi in general.

- RIP Shyu :/

- Thought it was kind of strange how June captures Aang at Roku’s temple lol. Like how did she get on and off the island??

- Zhao continues to feel like a completely different character to me lmao. I think this version is pretty funny, but it’s so weird to see Zhao being portrayed as so goofy and incompetent when he was such an intimidating force and the main villain of Book 1 in the OG series. Just a weird direction they went with his character.

- The Yuyan archers look cool as fuck. 10/10 no notes

- Still not sure how I feel about Azula already being this insecure and jealous of Zuko. I think it makes her feel a bit more realistically like a child, but the whole point of Azula’s character is that she is really good at maintaining this cool and calm persona on the surface, which she uses to scare and manipulate people. I can see her maybe getting to a point later on to where she hardens herself into that though. We’ll see.

- Baby Zuko asking Iroh how he looks and his little smile 😭😭😭😭 I had a physical “aww” reaction to that. THAT’S MY SON (me and Iroh shouting in unison)

- War Room scene was handled very well. No complaints. I like how Ozai tried to test Zuko with battle strategies.

- Blue Spirit break out scene was extremely close to the original, and it was really good. They adapted it almost shot for shot with all the important parts.

- Here’s probably my favorite part of the episode: Zuko and Aang’s talk inside the abandoned house after they escape from Pohuai!!!!!! Gahhhh I could gush about this scene all day. I love how they expanded it to be an actual friendly conversation between Aang and Zuko. Like we get to see Zuko’s true self coming through - the sweet, kind boy we know he is. Zuko and Aang just have such great chemistry as well, wayyy more than Aang has with either Sokka or Katara. Like I adored them bonding over painting and caligraphy!!! I think this is the best acting we’ve seen from Gordon so far, and Dallas did a phenomenal job switching back to that hurt, angry version of himself (of course a trauma response). And the fact that Aang said “sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” when he blocked Zuko’s firebending attack??? My sweet boy 😭

- The final flashback to the Agni Kai was really well done too. I’d already heard Zuko fights back, which I wasn’t sure I’d like, but I actually didn’t mind it. I really liked that they showed Zuko’s hesitation whenever he did actually have an opening, and that was what angered Ozai the most - Zuko showing compassion, “weakness”. Daniel Dae Kim is of course doing a phenomenal job (no surprises there), and I really liked that Iroh actually attempted to stop Ozai at one point. It also looked like young Azula had tears in her eyes, which I again actually liked because it humanizes her.

- I loved that Aang was still there when Zuko woke up on the boat 😭 he wanted to make sure he was okay!! I full on started crying when we got the “do you think we could have been friends too?” lines from him. Again, Gordon killed it. I love how you can tell that Aang knows Zuko has been hurt and that’s why he acts the way he does. He doesn’t blame him for any of it. 10/10

- the last flashback to Zuko in his bed recovering from the burn… god the tears just kept flowing. I really liked the choice to have Ozai almost give Zuko a chance to like… idk understand why he did what he did, and how compassion is “weak”?? And then Zuko’s response to give people a chance 😭😭😭 as if I couldn’t love him any more!!! And then of course Ozai gets pissed. But seeing baby Zuko just cry in his bed UGH I’m dehydrated at this point

- Of course I can’t finish this review without mentioning the 41st division. What an incredible way to expand upon the source material by making them Zuko’s crew!!! It shows just how much Zuko truly cares about others and it moved me so much (once again to tears).

I don’t have high hopes for the last two episodes, but honestly, if this is what the live action can be, it gives me a bit of hope (at least for future seasons). I really think that Dallas, Gordon, Paul, and Daniel were the stars of this ep and are a big part of what made it so good.

#atla #natla #netflix atla spoilers #natla spoilers #atla live action #avatar the last airbender netflix #avatar the last airbender #atla netflix #atla meta #natla meta #zuko #aang #iroh #ozai #zukaang

[umeoniii]

hii, you said you wanted requests or thirsts for aot characters and i have a few!! love your writing so far btw :) but i've been thinking abt makeup sex with eren after a fight, possibly bc he was jealous, i just think he would be so possessive and mean, idk what do u think?

makeup sex w eren

　　　　　　　　☆彡

“eren! i was literally just talking to him, the fucks wrong with you!” you yell at eren as his cold green eyes stare at you in fury.

“don’t fucking lie! i know what you’re about, you might as well have sucked his dick while you were at it!” he screamed back at you.

you and eren were out bowling. bowling was not your first option, but it was the only thing you guys could’ve done that day, as rowdy as you two were. when he went to go get something to eat, a worker had came up to you to show you a better way to get a strike.

as you kept on missing he helped by holding your arm and helping you roll the heavy pink ball. eren was on his way back to your isle as he saw the worker helping you, the both of you were laughing.

he just didn’t understand what was so funny. “i think i can take it from here.” he said with a straight face as he took the ball out of your hand. the worker had a look of confusion on his face and just walked away, shooting you a soft smile on his way back to the counter. when he was out of earshot that’s when eren flipped his lid.

“what the fuck?!” he yelled

“what eren?” you asked scared.

you’ve had this happen several thousand times and you already knew he was gonna cause a scene.

“eren shut up!” you argued, “i just wanted a little bit of help, that’s all…”

“didn’t look like it with the way you got all cheery and smiley and shit. if you want him go back and bowl with him. im done with you.” he started to walk off

“it’s not my fault your an insecure crybaby.” you scoffed as he was walking off.

he turned around, his eye started to twitch. he swiftly walked back towards you, gripping your wrist with his hand as tight as he possibly could. he started walking with you, practically dragging you on the ground at this rate.

“eren,stop!” you yelled trying to pull away from him.

he said nothing, you just stared at the back of his tight black shirt, looking at the various tattoos on his forearm. tears welled in your eyes as his nails digged into your wrists. when he made it outside of the family restroom he pushed you in and locked the door behind him.

“im sorry ren, you know i was just being nice to him. i love you and only you.” you sniffled trying to get him to stop giving you the silence treatment.

he looked down at you in disbelief. he wiped your tears with his thumbs, gently caressing your cheeks before he harshly grabbed your cheeks bringing your face closer to his.

“do me a favor will you?” he said with absolutely no emotion in his deep voice. you nodded still partially crying.

“get on your knees.” he pushed your face away from his. you tried even harder not to cry more. you couldn’t even work up the courage to ask him to do it another time.

you got on your knees looking up at eren as he in buckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants.

he pulled out his dick slapping his tip on your lips, forcing you to open your mouth as he shoved it in. you wrapped your lips around him, your lipstick smudging all on his shaft. you swirled your tongue around his tip as you pumped his cock with your hand, the same arm he grabbed ever so tightly.

you looked up at him as he grabbed your hair and pushed bobbed your hair causing you to gag.

“don’t gag now, earlier your smart mouth wasn’t a problem.” he said.

tears pricked your eyes as you continued to suck him off.

“you know what this ain’t working” he pushes your head back “get up” he grabbed your arm pulling you up. he picked you up and sat you on the sink counter. pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties.

he wasn’t hesitant to shove himself inside of you, his palm on your head so he could stand straight. he thrusted in and out. his heavy balls slapping you with every thrust. you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“fuck, you feel good. im the only man who could make you feel like this. no one will ever love you the way that i do.” he grunted grabbing your hips.

though he wasn’t the most gentle and positive person, you knew he loved you deep down, he just has a weird way of showing it.

“i want you to apologize for talking to that guy.” he said looking into your eyes. his cock smashed into you, your slick and a little of cum coated both your pussy and his dick.

you gasped at the way it felt. “sorry” you whined as he started to bite at your neck.

“not elaborate enough.” he muffled into your skin.

you hated how petty he could be though.

“im sorry for talking to him.” you hiccuped as you felt yourself closer to climax.

he picked you up bouncing you onto him feeling as you tightened around him. you gave him a tight hug as you came undone all over his dick. your face was in the crook of his neck, you could smell the scent of his comforting cologne. he released as well, coming into you as he whispered into your ear.

“you know i love you.”

　　　　　　　　　。

a/n: i hope you like this anon! im so glad you love my writing, there’s much more to come! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ♡

#umeswritin!~ #aot #aot imagines #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot hcs #aot smut #snk headcanons #aot headcanons #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #eren smut #eren x black reader #eren x reader smut #aot eren #eren jeager smut #snk eren #eren headcanons #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren

[bestanimatedmovie]

Choose your favorite!

Time to fly!

Vote in the other polls!

What fans say:

How To Train Your Dragon:

The message was just nice. I have a lot of nostalgia for it. I used to be a huge dragon nerd as a kid and dragons just weren't that prevalent in media here, especially not as friendly figures. I still love HTTYD and it's sequels nowadays.

It was one of my favorite movies as a kid and one of the few movies I watched that wasn't a barbie movie, it's just really cool.

Best movie featuring dragons period. The pure wish fulfillment fantasy of having a highly intelligent fantasy creature companion that can fly and doesn’t mind being ridden like a horse, therefore also the best execution of the dragon rider trope in all of fiction. Extremely funny, adding to the comedy is the fact that only adults have Scottish accents and all the teens have an American accent. So good that even its tv show follow up was decent by extension. The bit where Hiccup is trying to earn Toothless' trust and they start to work together changed me on a fundamental level.

I LOVE IT SO MUCHSHJKBSKHGDK I have a bone dysplasia which causes some bones to be a little bit more hollow and whenever I would feel a pain in my top back, 8 year old me was like ''woah I'm growing wings its my time to fly like toothless'' lol and it was always a dream of mine to fly. Weirdly enough I could relate to toothless because the "not being able to fly but you should be" felt like an allegory to a lot of my life! It gave me hope when he WAS able to after the help of others + the care he always needed + that mechanic wing thing made me feel like with the right ''recipe'' could help me get better too. My favourite scene is the first flight!! I love the animation for it, it makes me feel like im flying through the clouds too! The soundtrack is amazing too, I still cry to the songs.

I could write an entire essay about how much I love this movie, it truly is one of the best films ever made to me. Utterly flawless on both a technical level and a story-telling level. Not to mention the score oh my GOD the score of this movie changed my life. There are too many scenes that are so impactful, but the Forbidden Friendship scene has to be one of the best. Test Drive too.

This is literally my favorite movie of all time. This movie got me through the worst times in my life. It’s about love and friendship and all that lovely goopy stuff and it’s also fucking gorgeous.

THE cinematic masterpiece of our generation. On god.

This movie is an absolute masterpiece, the animation is pretty, the score is perfect, the relationship between Toothless and Hiccup is so sweet, Toothless is absolutely adorable. Definitely one of DreamWork's best films.

It's a beautifully animated movie about an unconventional viking boy named Hiccup finding his place in a world where dragons and vikings are constantly at odds, and how he changes the world around him. The dragon designs are unique and beautiful, and the vikings are larger than life and match the exaggerated setting.

Who on Tumblr DOESN'T want a dragon best friend I ask you. I would kill to have what Hiccup & Toothless have.

It does a brilliant job balancing tropes in a way that subverts and plays into them. There is so much in it for both adults and kids, it doesn't look like other animated films, it feels more grounded and in that realism it becomes so beautiful. The friendship in the film feels very real despite one of the characters being unable to talk! Forbidden Friendship scene is, in my opinion, the greatest scene in the history of cinema. The music, the lighting, the cinematography, the pacing, the emotions, it is practically perfect in every way. I could go on but I think ya get it.

God this movie defined my childhood and it's still so good when I rewatch it now. I'm guessing you'll have had this submitted a good few times bc it goddamn deserves it but. Hiccup is so relatable and !! dragons !! big cute dragons whose animation models are based on cats!! based fr

I have many fond childhood memories of this movie and in particular I loved how my cousin would "talk" for Toothless (cousin was babysitting us when we first watched the movie). Another thing is The SCORE. The music is iconic and awe inspiring to this day. That first time when Hiccup and Toothless fly together and it Works and the score absolutely goes HARD, I loose my breath every time. It's great. Also have you seen Toothless he's an adorable dragon and a badass, what's not to love?

Makes me cry every time because Hiccup and Toothless are such good friends and they love each other and end up as two halves of a boy dragon soulmate sandwich also the music is extremely good who doesn’t like dragons anyway.

It's the story of a beautiful friendship forming between a boy who doesn't fit in and a dragon who is the last of his kind. It's so cute. And it shows positive representation of disability, Hiccup and Toothless become disabled in ways that meaningfully parallel each other. Hiccup makes a prosthetic tail fin! And Toothless is just so cute!

The sound track is amazing

Honestly everything is phenomenal. It has a good use of comedy and an excellent story and character development. There are also countless beautiful and awe-inspiring scenes supported by an amazing score.

Up:

It is a very emotional movie about an old man learning to still enjoy life even though his wife died.

Such a beautiful film about loss

#How To Train Your Dragon #Up #best animated movie #round 2 #tournament poll #tumblr's favorite

[cerseimikaelson]

HIII CERSEI GUESS WHOS BACK (YOUR FELLOW WOTG FAN) WITH MY THOUGHTS ON COTG:

It is such a funny book, my fav jokes being the 'shrek, fiona, donkey' joke and an underrated classic in my mind, the scene where percy is like "There was screaming, crying and running in circles, and that was ✨just me✨" when talking about blanche's story (its so brutally honest and funny in a vulnerable way, which I will expand later on with the vulnerable part of it). It had so many iconic moments

It was a very low stakes, slow plot. You can tell Rick wrote it for the experience of reading our fav characters again (adding on to the fact that rick was made to write it by disney as additional marketing for the show, you can tell the plot wasnt thought of much), and ive seen people get mad over it, id love to know what you think!

This is a bit of a touchy topic. I've seen the people on the internet calling percabeth abusive with the constant name calling and the physical ??violence?? ( i obviously dont agree, but thats another topic), but something I've observed that everything that anti percabeths pointed out was toned down in the book?? Another post confirms that the majority of seaweed brains in the book was from percys pov and not annabeth actually saying it (like when hes looking at her expression and saying things like 'she looked like she was trying to say,....') and also when it comes to physical 'violence' (it feels so wrong to say bc i cant find another word lolol), the only things i found while rereading were 'lightly pinched my arm' and 'nudged me with her toe' which is wayyyy more toned down than ricks usual 'swatting my arm' or 'punching me' or 'judoflipped me'

One thing I admire so much about this book is the way he's written the characters vulnerability. percys way more open when he talks about crying whereas in the books its brushed over a lot, which is something the lovely @demigods-posts pointed out. annabeth tearing up when sally compliments her on something small like a cupcake, grover scared of percy and annabeth leaving him, and ofc percy. i saw someone interpret the river god scene as a ptsd induced panic attack, and i admire how rick has written it with so much angst, but still kept it light for the tone of the books.

another thing i love is how the characters dont revolve around percy as a main character (which is probably something rick learned while writing the tv show). annabeth has hobbies of her own, she's in her dream school, she is a busy woman and good for her. grover regularly goes to camp, and has his own conflicts with his gf and stuff. sally and paul are on their own arc with the baby on the way.

the fluff needs a special mention. every moment is so cute and sweet, there are way too many instances, especially with grover and percy which there was a severe lack of in hoo. them turning to seven year olds, percy and annabeths daily night iris message routine, the domesticity of the jacksons family

As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions too, im so happy i get to talk about it with you :))

Heyyy friend, how are you? Thanks for the ask!

Since you mentioned her, I LOVED Blanche. Iris is one of my favourite goddesses, so it was great seeing her. And I loved watching a god actually be ignored by their teenage child for once instead of the other way around. Blanche being a propel rebel with the monochrome was golden. (also, pink hummingbirds? lol)

It is obvious there wasn't much in terms of an actual plot with real structure, but it was fun and light-hearted and it does set the foundation for something in the future. Not all quests need to be high stakes, all-hands-on-deck, the world is coming undone. I liked watching the trio have semi normal lives (meeting up for smoothies after school) instead of constantly being on hero mode.

I genuinely had no clue people were upset about Percabeth's interaction in this. But seriously, violence? Did those people forget Annabeth judo-flipped Percy in New Rome, or was it okay then because it was a grand romantic gesture? How is punching someone in the arm to tell them they are being an idiot (provided you don't turn them black and blue of course) abuse? Percy and Annabeth are in a relationship, obviously they are going to be tactile with each other. Not to mention, people often nudge each other in real life and nobody shouts abuse then. I am rambling now but honestly this is the first I've heard of this and I have opinions.

I know Rick wrote the PG version, but can we talk about Zeus literally objectifying Ganymede at brunch and nobody but Hera (and Percy silently) batting an eye? Honestly, I am not a hardcore Zeus hater (although he is an a**hole) but the way Rick writes him he has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I officially volunteer to be Hera's divorce attorney.

I really liked the idea of Annabeth having a secret fan club and having dinner with Sally, Percy and Paul every night. That was excellent.

I am already brainstorming theories about what the third book is going to be. Does it matter that WOTG isn't even out yet? Absolutely not. I kind of want it to be about Athena because her interactions with Percy are always 10/10, but that probably won't happen.

Feel free to send me asks about your favourite gods and goddesses, any headcanons you may have or anything you wish to discuss about PJO. You can also find me on ao3!

#cerseimikaelson #percy jackson #percy jackson series #pjo fandom #the chalice of the gods #ask #greek mythology