#And then told me about about this place and how in most days you can hear birds every morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

feeder86 · 2 days ago

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Bossed

Ben huffed as he slouched in his desk chair, gazing at the computer screen. The numbers hadn’t changed but there may still have been some elusive way in which he could process them in order to make the sales figures look less dire than they actually were. He just needed to find it; otherwise, his neck could be on the line. The downward trend had been a worrying phenomenon ever since he’d joined the company almost 12 months ago, and he hadn’t been in the least bit surprised when their boss, Elise, lost her job over it all last week.

Reaching for one of the doughnuts from the box he’d picked up from the store across the street, Ben mulled over the problem, sucking his fingers and thumbs before reaching in for a second.

“Okay, listen up people!” came the call of Rob, the overly perky middle manager, making his usual trip to their office space as the day was drawing to a close. “I want to introduce you to someone,” he announced, motioning towards the tall, strapping older man in his late thirties. “This is Elijah. He’s the company’s new hire and we’re super lucky to have him,” he gushed; sucking up in his trademark style. “He’s taking over from Elise and has lots of incredible ideas about how he’s going to turn things around here!” He began retreating, already starting a round of applause that he expected everyone else to join in with.

With a decent amount of conformists now standing, Elijah stepped forwards and smiled with false modesty. “Thank you,” he nodded, quietly shushing them by gently motioning his hands for them to stop clapping. “I’m very excited to be here,” he began, revealing a slight Germanic accent that made him appear ever so slightly harsher. His body was strong and athletic, not a hair out of place; carrying himself with power and composure. “From what I have seen here today, there are clearly the building blocks of a potentially very strong team.”

Ben listened in, reaching for another doughnut. Sure, Elijah looked the part, but how long could he really survive on this sinking ship?

“Excuse me?” Elijah called out, looking directly at Ben. “Are you just going to sit there eating your doughnuts whilst your new boss addresses you for the first time?” he asked patronisingly, looking around at the others as if in disbelief at Ben’s rudeness.

Ben froze in shock as everyone turned to look at him, still in his desk chair with a half eaten doughnut clutched in his hand.

“Put it down,” Elias nodded at the doughnut, as if Ben was the rudest person he had ever met. “Manners cost nothing!”

Ben did as he was told, rising to his feet like everyone else and brushing the sugar off his chest. He suddenly had the feeling that he was back in school all over again.

Elijah’s warm greeting appeared to have been abandoned and he huffed as if he had suddenly been put in the foulest of moods. “This is exactly the sort of thing I dislike. You all have to realise that how you conduct yourselves in the office has a huge impact. We’re going to have clients coming in and out of here all day long.” Still his eyes were fixed on Ben. “What age are you, boy?” he asked directly.

Ben stuttered a little, feeling a bead of sweat running down his back. “I’m twenty three, sir,” he replied.

Elijah shook his head as if he was disgusted. “Twenty three and you were just slouching there in your desk chair eating an entire box of doughnuts whilst your boss was in the room talking to you. You think that’s appropriate?”

“No, sir,” Ben shot back, feeling that he could be fired at any second.

“So you’ve put on a little weight over the holidays?” the man taunted next, not pausing for Ben to respond. “You know how I can tell? That shirt of yours is too tight around your stomach. Do you think the rest of us want to see that?” he asked.

“No, sir!” Ben stated at once, swallowing hard. He knew he was up ten pounds or so since the start of December, but he hadn’t seen the point in buying larger shirts when, in all likelihood, he’d naturally drop most of it within a few weeks.

“Is this the type of look we want our clients to associate us with?” Elijah asked the staff collectively, motioning from afar towards Ben’s chubby form squeezed into an ill-fitting shirt.

“No,” they all replied, shaking their heads as if each once was keen not to be placed in the firing line next.

Ben could feel the blood pumping to his face. He’d been as skinny as a rake when he started college at eighteen, but he’d gradually thickened up from that tall, slender drainpipe-like boy of 145lbs, to the altogether softer look he had developed now at 190lbs. He’d started to get a little paunch by his second year, spurred on by the cheap, processed foods that made up the majority of his diet. He’d always imagined himself losing it eventually, but the right time had just never seemed to materialise. He’d packed on an extra inch around his waist every year since then, with even his nipples starting to grow softer and more pointed in the last six months.

Elijah stared at him hard. Ben remembered thinking that this could go either way and, in that moment, he imagined himself carrying a cardboard box of his things out of the office for the last time should Elijah choose to make an example of him there and then. What better way to begin a new regime than firing someone within the first few minutes?

“I want you in a shirt that actually fits tomorrow,” Elijah finally told him, taking a quick glance at the rest of him. “Pants too,” he nodded.

“Yes, sir!” Ben nodded gratefully, straightening up and sucking his stomach in; sighing with relief as Elijah at last moved on to continue his speech.

Ben grumbled to himself as he saw the money debited from his account for the new work clothes he had been forced to purchase earlier that month. It had been a hard slog to pay day now that Elijah was in charge. Ben felt as though he was constantly under the microscope with Elijah installing software that allowed him to see what was on his screen at all times.

“I want it put over there,” Elijah instructed the maintenance guys as he pointed to the vending machine that had always been behind Ben’s desk. With a headset on, the man probably assumed that Ben couldn’t hear him as he chuckled and told them that he needed to get it away from ‘that chubby one.’

Inwardly, Ben shouted expletives at the top of his voice, despite knowing better than to react. Six people had already left or been fired so far; even Rob, the master at sucking up to the bosses, had been given his marching orders. In their places, new recruits, more suited to Elijah’s style of management, began to trickle in. The familiar atmosphere had changed. That warm family-like environment had been ripped away. It was unnerving and stressful. Even the vending machine's new location, despite being further away, meant that it was now directly in Ben’s eyeline, making him obsess even more than usual for a quick sugar hit when things were getting tough.

At only 190lbs, Ben was far from being the chubbiest guy who worked there. However, it was the fact that his soft physique was combined with such a youthful age that Elijah seemed to find so intolerable. “I was starting my first business at twenty three,” he’d lectured Ben one afternoon after seeing him returning from a fast food place. “I wasn’t sitting around, stuffing my face with all this rubbish!”

Ben listened, hating every single thing about his new boss. Despite the initial boost Elijah’s harsh criticisms had given him to set up a gym subscription, Ben had actually found his energy completely drained after a day at work. The gym was only across the street, yet it was also where Elijah himself often frequented. Whilst there, Ben could sense the man’s eyes upon him as he sniggered with similarly muscular friends in a way that Ben couldn’t help feeling was directed at him. After only three sessions, he stopped going entirely. His work role had changed under the new system, with Ben practically chained to his desk chair from the moment he arrived at 8.55am each morning. Just like the fifteen pounds he’d gained during his final college exams, Ben’s old stress eating habits were coming back to bite him. He knew he’d put on more weight and, even worse, his boss knew it as well. Ben had tried to confide his frustrations about Elijah’s comments to his cousin who lived close by, however she merely brushed them aside, agreeing entirely with the anecdotes of Elijah’s observations and simply stating that ‘the truth hurts sometimes’.

Often, Ben’s dislike of his boss would manifest in the most peculiar and even counter-productive ways. Only last week he had seen a giant celebration cake on sale and he had gorged upon it all that very night, taking satisfaction in imagining how disgusted Elijah would be. “Fuck him!” Ben had shouted aloud, unbuckling the top button of his pants as he sipped on some chocolate milk to fully round off the experience.

Ben had never had a double chin before. However, it was becoming more and more apparent each time he shaved that the entire shape of his face had begun altering. He’d recently taken a picture of his body for someone he had been flirting with on an app, immediately getting blocked straight afterwards. He couldn’t blame them. He looked awkward and dumpy with his fat stomach popping out. Perhaps it didn’t help that most of his friends here in the city were so large and overweight; enjoying video games and the occasional board game nights, rather than anything active. Instead of focusing on his habits, Ben decided that it was actually his job that was contributing most to his expanding waistline. As such, he began to seriously look for a role in another company. He applied, finding he was rejected time and time again due to what he suspected was a very mediocre reference from Elijah.

With the annual charity fundraiser in December, Ben’s workload increased even more dramatically than the year before. There were so many elements to it and red tape to get through. He knew he would be stuck at the office for at least a couple of hours after everyone else. If only Elijah had left at the same time, Ben felt like everything could have run a lot smoother. He’d had a plan in his head for some time, knowing that he could corrupt the software on Elijah’s computer to disrupt the man’s ability to simply pop up on his screen like he regularly enjoyed doing. If Ben was successful, he’d be a hero amongst the staff by the time morning came around again.

Just before half six, the detestable man finally headed out, dressed and prepared for his usual workout at the gym across the street. He made a snarky comment about the carb-loaded snacks Ben had bought for himself as he continued trying to catch up. Some things never changed.

“This is just between you and me,” Ben winked at Mary who was pottering around cleaning up the office space.

Mary grinned back at him, having listened to many woes about Elijah’s management style from the others who had stayed late or quit over the last year. “I know nothing!” she laughed, fully prepared to close her eyes and ears to everything that was about to take place.

The system login on Elijah’s computer was easily overcome. The boss had boasted to Ben weeks earlier that he used the remarkable time from his last marathon run as his password; a time that he had repeated to Ben over and over again as he saw him popping backwards and forwards to the vending machine.

And just like that, Ben was in. Elijah’s whole computer opened up to him like a picture book. In fact, it hadn’t even been shut down correctly. There were so many pages and tabs open all at once. But, what was that? Ben had to go back, caught by the most striking image.

“Everything okay, dear?” asked Mary, popping her head inside the office.

“YES! Fine!” Ben exclaimed, eyes wide and startled. He couldn’t begin to explain what he had just seen, even if he had tried.

A couple of weeks later, Ben was enjoying that blissful period between Christmas and New Year when he didn’t have to think in the slightest about work. He sat around a table with his housemates, Gray and Eddie, alongside their friend Joe; all equally as nerdy as each other, engrossed in a complex board game, surrounded by the tastiest sweet and savory snacks.

“Did you guys know that there are some folks who are really into larger guys?” Ben asked the three others; all of them significantly larger and heavier than himself.

“Of course there are,” chuckled Gray, looking at Ben like he was simple.

“No…” Ben clarified, trying to rephrase what he was saying. “I mean… did you know that there are some people who really get off to the whole weight gain thing; seeing someone going from slim to really, really fat?”

“Oh, like a feeder, you mean?” Eddie asked him. “Yeah, I’ve had a few girls approach me on dating apps who were into that,” he nodded knowledgeably.

“And me,” Joe agreed. “They get off on wanting to feed you.”

Ben looked at the pair of them, both large and round, weighing no less than 350 lbs each. “And what did you say to them?”

“Depends on how hot they are,” Gray shrugged, chuckling as both Joe and Eddie fully agreed with him. “Why? Have you come across one?” he asked curiously. “You’ve definitely packed on a good few pounds this year,” he chuckled, looking daringly at the others, like he had just said something they had all wanted to mention for weeks.

“You’re getting tits like mine,” Gray laughed, reaching his hand out to poke the softer chest.

“Shut up!” Ben laughed back, snapping away the hands that reached out to him. “I’m not that…” he began, before deciding to refocus the conversation. “It’s just this guy in work,” he began. “He’s vile. I thought he found my weight completely repulsive but… now I think he could actually be into it. Not me, specifically,” he clarified. “But, bigger guys in general.”

“Your first chubby chaser!” laughed Gray, throwing back his beer.

“Yeah,” chuckled Joe, seeming genuinely pleased for Ben. “Chasers are pretty rare!”

Ben shook his head. They’d all seriously misunderstood the point he was trying to make. However, he was at least pleased that he had some friends with some experience in this area. He’d felt like he was going insane for a couple of days after he had seen the pictures of the enormously obese guys on Elijah’s computer screen. Some of them would make even Gray look slender. Then he’d gasped in surprise as he’d read the kinky chat log his boss had been having as he encouraged an already very obese guy from another state to stuff himself with the pizzas; pizzas that Elijah had apparently ordered online and sent over himself. “Like I said…” he mumbled to the other guys. “I hate the guy’s guts. I’d never go there with him. It’s just… interesting.”

Discovering Elijah’s kinky preferences could not have come at a worse time for Ben. The revelation had sent him into a period of complete thoughtlessness about his eating as he was utterly determined to enjoy himself over the holidays with his large housemates. More dessert? Why not? Another beer? Sure! Ben looked at himself in the mirror, having stepped on the scales to discover that he had gained no less than twenty pounds in a single month. He hadn’t even known that such a gain was even possible. However, it was all there, clearly visible on his 260lb body: the advanced swathe of belly fat that had rounded out into a pot belly, with nipples sagging and resting above. His love handles felt intrusive as they pushed out from the sides and gis glutes and thighs appeared as if they had been pumped with blubber. Even at 6’2, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was a fat guy now. His jawline was non-existent and his double chin had been commented on by several family members on Christmas Day itself. The work pants were tight; far too tight. His shirt clung unflatteringly around his stomach, straining the buttons like it wanted to highlight to everyone just how much more of a gut he had on him this year; the collar almost choking him.

Ben huffed as he further investigated his reflection in the mirror; that shocking side profile with his protrusive stomach and widened rear, exaggerated even more by the tightness of the fabric. His tie would need to be extra long today to try and mask the straining of the buttons. He was turning into a fat fucking monster, he thought, grumbling to himself as he rubbed the arching shape of his stomach.

All he needed to do was make it through to lunchtime, Ben thought, parking his butt down on his desk chair. Then he could head out and buy a shirt that could help him blend in better, and some pants that didn’t make him panic each time he took a longer stride.

“Is Annie in today?” Ben asked aloud to his colleagues as he saw the empty chair.

“We just assumed that you’d eaten her,” came Elijah’s sarcastic tone, suddenly springing up from nowhere and walking across the room towards the main office.

A rolling chuckle sounded around the office, like the boss had just said exactly what they were all thinking. So, everyone had noticed his extra weight then? And he’d been trying so hard to suck it all in as well. He rolled his eyes, knowing that there was so much he could say about Elijah to embarrass him in return. He wondered what everyone would think if he told them all about the things he’d found on Elijah’s computer. Perhaps he would have told them all already, but for the email threatening immediate dismissal to the unknown culprit the day after Ben’s devious computer hack, once the sabotage had been discovered.

Sitting at his desk, Ben's stomach was rumbling and growling. For two whole weeks he had been eating and drinking whatever and whenever he wanted. Now, forced back into the mundane, lunchtime couldn’t come fast enough. Given that he’d fooled no one with his techniques to try and mask the extra pounds, Ben treated himself to one of the giant burritos from the place down the street. His shirt buttons straining, he could see the glances he was getting. Perhaps he should have been more embarrassed, but his mind was still whirring, wondering how many other people were actually secretly into this fat bellied look. Was that person staring because they thought he was gross? Or was it because they wanted to rip his shirt off and see the glorious gut that was under construction? He gasped in realisation as he thought about his Uncle Leon and Aunt Pam over in Detroit. Uncle Leon had been so lean and muscular when he’d got married, yet he’d rapidly packed on an incredible amount of fat in the following years. So much so that he’d had to give up his job in construction and skinny Aunt Pam had been working two jobs for years in order to support them both. So why was it that everyone in the family still hated Aunt Pam? They all knew about this sort of stuff, didn’t they? They knew that Aunt Pam liked him larger and had most likely enabled him to his easily 500lb state. There were others too: his friend Tom from school, with his giant mother and slender father who was always constantly bringing treats home for his wife. What about Bob and Helen in his old neighborhoo? Bob was the only super obese guy in town to be dating a former beauty queen, ten years younger than him.

Ben’s burrito was gone in a flash as he chewed and mulled over everything. His sweet tooth was driving him crazy and he popped next door to the doughnut place to pick up some treats as well as a large bottle of soda to take back into the office with him. It was only when he made it back to his desk that he’d remembered his intention to pick up a new shirt. He shrugged, noting that there were only four hours left until the end of the day anyway.

“Listen up, people!” Elijah called out. He looked at Ben, frowning at the little stain of burrito filling that had landed on his shirt over the lunch period. “How did you miss that giant mouth of yours?” he grumbled, clearly unimpressed by Ben's unprofessional presentation. “You’ve clearly had plenty of practice getting stuff in there.”

Again, there was a little rolling chuckle amongst the staff. Every month there were more and more new faces as Elijah gradually replaced the old staff with people who were more suited to him.

“Annie’s handed in her notice and won’t be returning,” the boss explained calmly, despite the immediate groans of frustration from everyone else. “I know it’s tough when this happens, but we’re all going to have to pick up the slack. Especially you, Ben,” he nodded. “You’re the only one who’s dealt with her contacts before she left. They're going to be some late nights for the next three weeks until we can hire someone to replace her.”

Ben looked around at everyone else. Was he really the only one who could deal with Annie’s clients? Why did this have to fall to him?

“It’s time to prove yourself,” Elijah nodded. “I know you’re desperate to get to the gym this evening, but that’ll have to wait,” he teased, unable to resist having another joke at Ben’s expense.

Ben rolled his eyes. It wasn’t fair. Still, the overtime would come in handy if he was going to take a vacation that summer, he thought to himself, always keen for a silver lining. He just hoped that Elijah wouldn’t be working later each night as well.

“So, how come I haven’t received an application from you for Annie’s position?” Elijah asked a few weeks later, popping back to the office late to send a few more emails. Dressed in his workout gear, Ben could never help himself from admiring the dedication it must have taken for the guy to build such large, strong arms. The tight compression shirt displayed the fullness of his pecs, lacking even an ounce of fat around his waist and allowing the stomach muscles to really pop out.

Ben shrugged at his boss’ question. “Because I’m not really qualified for it,” he answered simply.

“And yet, you’ve been doing the job, as well as your own, since the start of January,” Elijah shot back.

“That’s only because you reject every application that’s been sent in for the role.”

“Well, maybe I’m holding out for the right person,” Elijah smiled, almost flirtatiously. He looked around at the take out boxes on Ben’s table. Although Ben described his workload as ‘stressful’ at the moment, in reality, it was simply just time consuming. So what if he treated himself to something tasty as he sat at his desk each evening? And what did it matter if all he wanted to do in his sparse downtime was sit on his butt and play video games? Even so, to an image conscious Elijah, the sight of it all still seemed to cause him much amusement. “Apply for the job,” he stated candidly, starting to tidy up Ben’s take out containers and give him more room on his desk without a single snarky comment. “I think you may be pleasantly surprised.”

Ben did as he was told, reasoning that a position, such as Annie's old job, could actually launch him on a proper career. Whilst he was earning a good amount of overtime at the moment, the added income each month could help him save for his own place. With Elijah’s admission that he was happy to promote him, Ben suddenly felt like he had at last entered the guy’s inner circle of those deemed ‘worthy’. Under Elijah, status was granted not by job title, but by how much favor you carried with the boss.

It was exactly the reason why Carol stood beaming beside her new desk chair the following week. “Elijah ordered it for me because of all the back problems I’ve been having,” she boasted, knowing that there were few others that their boss would willingly blow company funds on like this.

Starved of any other entertainment, one by one, the others in their office space lined up to have a go at sitting in the smart, innovative desk chair, until Ben was the only one still sitting disinterestedly at his own desk. He huffed, knowing that it would be the polite thing to at least try the chair and complement Carol on her good fortune. He lined up his rear, surprised that everyone in the office still seemed so interested. He’d known instantly that he was in trouble, given how tightly the firm arms of the chair had brushed against his hips as he carelessly dropped his entire body weight into it. He could tell by how tightly his love handles were pressed against the sides that he was thoroughly wedged into it.

“It’s nice,” Ben mumbled, trying not to show his surprise at how far back the chair had tipped now his weight was inside it. He turned and swivelled himself, hoping that the performance may be enough to satisfy everyone, shifting their attention to other things before he had to try and climb out of the damn thing.

However, that was all before Elijah came out, resting his large hands on his strong hips and gazing down at Ben with a bemused expression; a quiet grinning as if he sensed the whirring panic in Ben’s brain as he tried to think about how to get out. “Ben, could I see you for a second?” he called out whilst everyone was still looking.

“Sure,” Ben nodded.”I’ll be there in a second,” he replied casually, already suspecting that Eliah’s timing was anything but coincidental.

“No,” Elijah shot back sternly, folding his arms. “I need to see you right now,” he beamed, perching himself on a desk as if ready for a show.

Ben knew he’d have to get himself out as quickly and undramatically as possible. He placed the palms of his hands on the end of the armrests, shifting his body weight as straight as possible. He shuffled his feet, giving himself as wide a stance as he could, then paused for a moment, summoning all the energy needed to haul his body upwards. Three… two… one…

To everyone else in the room, all they heard was a loud, unattractive and unintentional grunt coming from Ben. They saw the fat boy straining to lift himself upwards, held back by the obvious wedging of his rear against the sides. Led by their boss, the laughter from those around him was almost instantaneous. Someone came closer to try and help, although Elijah quickly told them to retreat, too busy enjoying the spectacle himself.

His face pumped with blood, Ben lowered himself again, bouncing back up with even greater force. This time, the entire chair came up with him, despite still being stuck around his wider rear. He wriggled his hips and tried to push the chair back. Finally, he could feel some progress, if all far too slowly. His legs were burning, holding himself up in this strange half bent position.

At last, the chair slipped away, clattering to the floor and tipping over onto its side. Carol immediately picked it back up, checking it over for damage as she frowned in annoyance. Ben tucked his shirt back in tidily and straightened his tie, trying his best to ignore the ongoing laughter. He stepped over to Eliah. “Are we going into your office?” he asked, trying to ignore them all.

Eliah continued laughing. “No, buddy. I was just fucking with you,” he replied, as if Ben had been the dumbest person alive to have believed his false urgency to see him in the first place. “Just get that report to me by six,” he stated, turning and walking back, despite his ongoing laughter.

Sitting back down at his own desk, Ben grumbled to himself. What the hell was he doing putting up with this shit? He should just quit and find a job where he wasn’t treated like this just because he was obese. He looked up and saw Elijah still laughing in his office. That was the moment the revelation struck him. Perhaps Carol’s new chair had never been about correcting her posture. Perhaps it had always been intended as a trap for Ben. Had Ben just played perfectly into his boss’ hands?

Back at home, Gray was dating a new girl, shifting the dynamic in the share-house considerably. Ben and Eddie’s jaws had dropped when they’d seen her; Marie, the stunning blonde girl with such a tight waist and big chest. The pairing with Gray couldn’t have been any more mismatched. Likewise, Eddie’s jealousy couldn’t have been more obvious, biting back at Gray whenever he tried to impart some dating advice on him so that he could one day be as blissfully happy as he was.

“Why does Gray suddenly believe he’s the universe’s gift to women?” Eddie grumbled. “It’s not like Marie is going to stick with a guy like him for long.”

Ben mumbled awkwardly. “I’m not so sure, y’know. She seems pretty serious about him. I heard them discussing pretty much everything: houses, marriage… the lot.”

Eddie huffed. “It’s just not fair, is it?” he complained. “Gray gets to live out his perfect life, whilst fatties like us remain permanently single.”

Ben bit his tongue, resisting the urge to call out Eddie for lumping him in the same category as him. Sure, he’d put on a lot of weight, but he wasn’t in the same league as Eddie, Gray, or even Joe. Yes, he had quite a gut on him now. And, yeah, maybe his chest was pretty flabby since he’d crossed three hundred pounds. But, he still was still pretty skinny compared to the others. Wasn’t he? The more Ben looked at himself in the mirror and assessed the situation, the less he seemed to believe in the differences between his own shape and that of the other guys. His problem had become his sheer width. As much as his stomach appeared to be pushing firmly outwards in one direction, his chunky butt seemed to be swelling outwards in the opposite direction. There was so much fat resting around his neck; his jawline completely swallowed. The cheeks of his face had puffed and broadened to such an extent that he actually found it hard to see his old self hidden underneath it all.

Whilst the promotion at work had granted him many benefits, Ben found the guaranteed extra income made his impulses harder to contain. Take out could arrive at ten in the evening; those premium doughnuts were hardly going to make a dent on his bank balance. But with so many bad habits ingrained in him now, Ben struggled to imagine anyone willing to put up with him in a romantic relationship. He didn’t really want to be active and go out an awful lot. The warmer late Spring days brought him annoyance and impatience as he sweated lethargically in his new office. Although he knew he shouldn’t, he kept a drawer full of candy and snacks, failing every single attempt of his to eat more healthily in the last two years. What difference was there between his own lifestyle and that of Joe or Eddie? Maybe this was something he wouldn’t ever be able to stop, even if he tried.

Being higher up the food chain at work gave Ben a new perspective on how well Elijah had turned the company around in under two years. From losing money each week, to acquiring multi million dollar contracts on a monthly basis, Elijah’s record was as perfect as could be. However, despite his success, there was always something about the guy that meant Ben couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Perhaps it was the fact that work seemed to consume so much of his life. Being a workaholic was fine if the person enjoyed it but, at times, it didn’t always seem like Elijah did.

“Don’t tell anyone this,” Elijah confided in Ben one evening after everyone else had left. “I’ve been offered a job elsewhere,” he whispered, as if, even now, he had to keep it under wraps. He wouldn’t say where, nor give away much more information other than the fact that the pay increase was to be life-changing.

“But, what would we do without you here?” Ben asked. He’d disliked Elijah as a boss for so much of his time here that he’d never actually considered how awful it would be trying to manage things without him.

“I imagine they’d give the role to Keira,” Elijah pondered.

“Oh, not Keira!” Ben groaned, already picturing the disordered chaos that would inevitably ensue.

“Or, you could come with me?” Elijah suggested next. “I could easily get you on-board. I couldn’t guarantee you the salary you have now; at least, not right away. But, once you’re in, there are so many more opportunities for you there.”

“You want to take me with you?” Ben asked, dumbfounded by the idea that Elijah would want such a thing.

“Of course. You’re the best we’ve got here!” Elijah beamed.

Ben frowned, knowing that not to be true in the slightest. The whole thing didn’t make any sense. Had he secretly been Elijah’s favorite this entire time?

As negotiation between Elijah and his potential new company got more intense, the man seemed to become more intent on getting Ben to make a decision about coming with him. In some ways, the pressure felt unfair and it almost seemed to Ben as if Elijah was quite prepared to turn down the offer were he to refuse to move with him.

“You seem a bit distracted,” Gray nodded to Ben as the pair of them stacked a few boxes ready for Gray’s moving out day tomorrow. With Gray and Marie moving in together, Joe was soon to take the room, saving them all from having to advertise the space. Helping Gray pack up had been a good distraction for Ben, as well as quite lucrative, inheriting plenty of clothes items from the back of Gray’s closet that the guy had outgrown months before. “Is everything okay at work?” Gray probed further, having always been the most intuitive of all the larger guys Ben lived with.

Ben sighed, explaining the entire situation.

“You know, Marie used to come into my workplace pretty much every day,” Gray began afterwards. “She’d make excuse after excuse for her being there but, in the end, it was me who had to ask her out.”

“What’s this got to do with anything?” Ben asked, chuckling at the sudden change of subject.

“What I mean is…” Gray sighed, rolling his eyes. “I remember what you told us about your boss. Sometimes, chasers are no different to the rest of us. Sometimes everyone needs a little help asking for what they really want.”

All at once, Ben knew exactly what he needed to do. He felt confident as he strode into Elijah’s office the next day. The blinds had been drawn and Elijah pulled him in as if he wanted to discuss a top secret bank heist that must not be overheard. “Well, what’s your decision?” he asked, as if every second counted.

Sighing, Ben took a seat, looking up at the handsome guy earnestly. “I’m staying here,” he explained simply, cutting Elijah off the moment the man burst into his sales pitch, trying to convince him once more. “Listen, you don’t need me!” he smiled. “You’re going to be awesome.”

“But you’re the best I’ve got!” Elijah countered.

“I’m average at best!” Ben laughed. !And you know it!” He could see Elijah trying to redouble his efforts to counter his remark, yet he continued, talking over Elijah as he began to speak. “I’m just a chubby, overfed, under-exercised, nerdy accountant. And… I think I’m also the guy you’ve secretly had a crush on for quite some time…”

Elijah immediately halted trying to speak over him. The man’s eyes widened. He started mumbling, immediately flustered. “I… I’m…” he tried, looking like he had been outmanoeuvred for the first time in his life. “How did you know?” he finally asked.

“I didn’t,” Ben laughed. “That was the problem. I just thought you were being an asshole most of the time! You’re actually not that good when it comes to approaching people you’re genuinely attracted to, are you?”

Elijah shook his head.

“If I came with you, you’d still be my boss and we could never explore whatever this could be between us,” Ben reasoned. “Whereas, if you hand in your notice today… Well, you and I could be out for dinner this evening, with no nasty fallout from HR.”

With a beaming smile, Elijah was soon announcing his departure to the entire office. Ben was sitting, slouched in his own office, picking at a couple of doughnuts and not really paying attention to what was going on outside. He was hardly going to go out there, pretending to be surprised. Besides, it was fairly common knowledge that he didn’t even really like Elijah, which made it even more bizarre when he was sitting across from the man at a very fancy restaurant only a few short hours later. It was so obvious when someone really was making an effort on a date; Elijah received top marks for his charming manner and attentiveness. He thoroughly deserved the kiss he was granted during the cab ride back to his place.

“You’ll know he’s definitely a chaser when you get to kiss him for the first time,” Gray had warned him. “If he’s anything like Marie, his hands will go straight to your belly!”

Ben had found the idea strangely arousing when Gray had said that. However, it was nothing compared to how horny he felt with Elijah’s hands exploring his body with a lust Ben had never before experienced. Arousal leached from every pore of the guy’s body and, when they went inside Elijah’s apartment, Ben felt like he was almost being worshipped. Even so, nothing was ever rushed. The build up was always perfect; the crescendo, always sublime. Despite the stunning physique of Elijah, it always felt as though it was Ben’s rounded, bloated form that was the star attraction. After a couple of weeks, Elijah was permitted to fuck him properly for the first time. Each thrust into Ben’s hefty rear seemed to give the man absolute pleasure. Nothing was ever done hastily, even as Elijah moaned softly and breathed steadily, as if trying to hold back an orgasm that he could summon at any moment.

Of course Ben continued to pack on weight once he’d got together with Elijah. It was yet another thing that Gray had warned him about when dating a chaser. Elijah was kinky, without a doubt. He took pleasure in taking a can of whipped cream into the bedroom with them and encouraging Ben to lick it all off his muscular body at any opportunity. It wasn’t unusual for them to deplete an entire can in almost no time at all.

However, just like Marie and Gray, Ben’s relationship with Elijah seemed equally as controversial. Despite the almost fifteen year age gap, folks just couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around why a man as stunning and successful as Elijah was so captivated by such a fat man as Ben; the looks and stares only getting worse as Ben’s weight continued to climb; his body getting more expansive and jigglier; fat building upon already well established fat. Perhaps it didn’t help how ‘touch’ was always Elijah's best love language when they were out and about. Ben was well used to having the man’s large hand attached to his wide rear, or cupping a bulge of back fat. It was obvious how distasteful some appeared to find it; especially some of Elijah’s more refined friends. Not that it ever stopped him. Elijah was simply being himself for the first time in his life.

“She’s a real kinky little thing, y’know,” Elijah had chuckled one evening after Gray and Marie had left, not long after Ben had moved in with his lover.

Ben, who had spent most of the night discussing video games with Gray in the lounge, had almost forgotten that Elijah would have had so much time to get to know the pretty little thing that had ensnared his best friend so completely. “Oh, yeah?” he smirked, feeling like he knew so much more about what it was like to date a chaser these days. “Gray’s certainly looking a lot heftier these days.”

“He sure is! But he’s all belly. Unlike you with that big, cute butt…” Elijah grinned, swooping in for a kiss. “But there’s plenty more to come if you listen to Marie! Gray is going all out for her, trying to get his weight up before their wedding.”

Ben laughed. He’d always assumed that Marie had driven Gray’s ongoing weight gain but, now that Elijah had said it, the amount that Gray had been gorging on the snacks that evening seemed to make perfect sense. “No wonder I feel so full!” Ben laughed, rubbing his bloated stomach. He’d always been easily influenced by those around him and, if he could pinpoint the moment his weight truly began to run away from him, it had been when he’d moved in with the larger guys, Gray and Eddie; being surrounded by such frequent overeating and carefree attitudes towards food. Just like tonight, watching someone else eating so much always made Ben feel naturally hungrier himself. “So, does that mean you were telling Marie how much weight I’ve packed on since we started dating?” he asked, knowing that such questions always brought out the kinky, teasing side of Elijah that Ben had always found rather unattractive; that was, until they had started dating and it’d become funnier, more laid back and always tinged with kinkiness.

“Of course I did,” Elijah smiled back, his hands exploring the pounds and pounds of pure lard that had made Ben’s stomach so large and spherical since he had broken four hundred pounds. “And I told her about your plans to cut down your hours at work,” the man continued to explain, unbuttoning Ben’s shirt to unleash the enormous torso that he got so much pleasure from. His hands grabbed underneath and bounced the giant belly that had amassed. “I think she’s quite jealous of how well I’m doing with my big boy!” he teased.

Ben chuckled back, enjoying the attention. Dating a chaser had been quite a learning curve for him, but the more he had leaned into it, the more pleasure he had gained from it. He’d wanted Elijah to be open about his kinks, which had simultaneously opened up a whole new world to Ben. There were so many people out there getting enjoyment from this. He’d asked Elijah to use his contacts in these communities to find girls for his friends, Joe and Eddie. On the whole, he’d been pleased to see his friends so happy, despite how rapidly Joe’s secretly kinky girlfriend had swollen up the guy’s face and butt to the point where some people no longer recognised him. Similarly, Elijah delighted in having any of the guys over at their place, splashing his cash by ordering mountains of take out for them all and simultaneously messaging their girlfriends to quietly update them on how well they’d all eaten.

“What’s my calorie count tonight?” Ben asked, seeing the pure lust in his lover’s eyes.

“I counted about five thousand since Marie and Gray arrived at six o’clock,” Elijah speedily replied, full of admiration for him.

“Shit! No way?” Ben chuckled back, rubbing his tight stomach. “I didn’t even notice I was eating that much.”

“You never have,” Elijah smiled wickedly.”I saw that greedy appetite and knew there’d never be anyone I’d want more than you!” He wrapped his arms around Ben’s hips, rubbing the broad glutes. “You’re perfect!”

Ben accepted the sweet kiss from his lover. He could already feel Elijah’s hardness rubbing against him, just as it always did whenever the guy had watched him eat so much in one go. Despite all the dirty dishes, they were heading into the bedroom; clothes rapidly disappearing. “Go on, then!” Ben chuckled, already knowing exactly what horny Elijah wanted to ask him.

The man beamed, bounding away briefly and returning with a fresh can of whipped cream. He lay himself down on the bed, squirting furiously around his hardness.

Ben licked his lips, gazing down at the beautiful physique of his lover; kind, sporty, intelligent and successful. He couldn’t have found anyone better. As for this kinky streak of his… Well, that was something Ben would never want to be without. It was the part of Elijah that Ben had come to love more than any other. Despite his own monstrous, growing form, Ben knew that there would never be anyone Elijah craved more.

He was, and always would be, Elijah’s dream boy.

#gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fic #gainerstory #gainer stories #gay feedee #gainer fiction

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hwaslayer · 2 days ago

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wildfire (cs) | thirteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 7k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, we catch a lil moment with belle 🙄, crying .. lots of crying, just lots of hurt and heartache, more misunderstandings, we see a bit of parents from both sides - esp san's dynamic with his father, flashback scene with smut: oral (f. receiving), 🤠, praises, lots of sweet kisses and tender moments, some nipple play, soft and slow smut!!

—a/n: fic announcement soon!

If the texts yesterday afternoon weren't nerve-wracking enough, it was the downtime in between the texts and seeing San that had you ready to curl up in a ball out of anxiety; fetal position, rocking back and forth as an attempt to rid the feeling. San hadn't texted much after deciding the two of you should talk the following day, and you never questioned why he couldn't just see you the same night he had told you he needed to talk.

you: 😞 you didn't even look my way when you walked back into the office and i haven't heard from you all day.

you: i hate how all my papers and presentations are due this week. plus ppl have been weird, idk. i just wanna cuddle 😭

san: i'm sorry. it's just been a day.

you: that's never stopped you before... ☹️ what's wrong, san?

san: we should talk, baby.

you: oh.. okay. so let's talk tonight? i just need to finish up a few things, and i'm halfway done on most of my papers and presentations. i think they can wait a bit.

san: no, you should finish up. i've got a ton of things to catch up on so tonight won't work. can we do this tomorrow? i'll come pick you up once we're both done in the lab.

you: are you sure?

san: mhm. i'm sorry again, it really just has been kinda all over the place today.

you: it's fine, san. as long as you can promise me we're okay?

san: we will be. i'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? try to take breaks and rest well.

You accepted it, even if it felt excruciating and painfully long.

These things never turn out well, and you knew your case wasn't gonna be an exception. You were afraid for it, you were nervous and you were wondering what San might do to try and lessen the blow of whatever was coming.

He wouldn't hurt you, right?

He meant it when he said you two would be okay, right?

Even if he tried to be as reassuring, everything about it felt off and cryptic. None of it felt like sunshine and rainbows, none of it felt like the San you felt in love with. None of it felt like the giddy excitement, the comfort, the safety you had come to know and love.

You hated automatically assuming the worse, but nothing was preventing you from doing so— not even San.

Today was actually pretty uneventful, nonetheless. Despite the wait and silence from San, you felt like you managed to get by in one piece. It still felt like everyone was looking at you; like they had all known your deepest, darkest secrets. Like they had been following your every move, especially while you were with San. It still felt awful, but you had learned how to push aside because people could talk and assume— but they would never know the true story.

And who knows? Even if you tried to explain yourself, they wouldn't get it.

You didn't really owe that explanation to anyone, you think.

The only other weird part about your day was when you had tried to help Belle earlier since you had some downtime and she brushed you off completely. She had been avoiding you, and it was pretty obvious she was letting the talk get to her head. She didn't maintain eye contact with you, she didn't acknowledge you, and she didn't talk to you the way that she used to.

—FLASHBACK

You walk into the lab, passing by a few of your labmates with a tiny, toothless smile etched on your lips. There was no Sunwoo around, but there was Belle; yet, she still hadn't turned to acknowledge your presence. You had gotten through your to-do list for Sunwoo's project, leaving you with extra time to spare today. You hadn't been able to dedicate a lot of your support to Belle lately due to all those technical issues you needed to troubleshoot for your project with Sunwoo, and you figured this would be a good time to make up for it.

Unless she had other plans.

"Hey Belle!" You come to her desk, pulling the courage from deep down within you to approach her first. She looks up at you, a brow cocked up before returning her attention to her laptop. "I have some time to help—"

"No thanks, I'm good." She doesn't look at you. "Just so you know, I don't really need extra help anymore. I've got everything figured out already."

"Oh, okay." You step away from her desk, fiddling with your fingers while you stand there looking dumb. "Are you sure?" She pauses her typing before finally looking back up at you with her brows knit tightly together.

"I just said it, didn't I?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure since I had the time and I haven't been able to help you out as much cause of Sunwoo's project."

"Why don't you go and use your extra time with Professor Choi since you've been doing that anyway?" She gives you a look that settles in the pit of your stomach. You don't say anything to her, even as she shuts her laptop close and stands— brushing past you to get to one of the behavior rooms. You feel a bit hurt, and your other labmates aren't even paying attention to the whole thing; or, maybe they are, and they just don't wanna say anything to dig deeper into the wound.

So, you turn on your heel with your head down, returning to your desk to continue your data analysis in silence.

—END

You try to tell yourself that it doesn't really matter— that you didn't need anyone's reassurance or validation. It hurt despite not being super close to Belle, but you knew she thought of you in a different light now and that wasn't really fair. You could see how it'd look problematic on the surface, but you thought she knew you better than that.

Guess it's also your fault for assuming.

When it's time for San to pick you up at your usual pick-up spot, you grab your keys and head out— still not having changed out of your outfit for the day. You try to take slow steps to not seem too eager, but you can't help it when you see San parked in his usual spot. This time though, he isn't watching for you in the rear view mirror.

"Hey." You swing the door open and slide in. San gives you a small smile, followed by a:

"Hey." He watches as you dip forward to kiss him on the lips like you always do, and he surprisingly takes it. You were getting ready for the rejection or some kind of pull back; but, to San's own knowledge, he did it because he knew it'd be the last time he could savor it.

"You okay? Were you able to finish everything you needed to?"

"Uh, yeah. Think so." He says with a subtle chuckle before driving off.

"Are we going to your house?"

"Thought we could sit at the view and talk, if that's okay with you?" You slowly nod, keeping your eyes trained on San as he drives.

"Okay. You're scaring me, Sannie." He shakes his head.

"Please don't be."

"Then why couldn't we just talk about this like normal at your place?"

"Y/N, you trust me, right?" He quickly looks at you as he comes across a red light. You silently nod, just in time for him to drive off and continue onto the destination. "Okay, so trust me." He's still being so cryptic and distant that you don't even know how to respond. You quietly sit back in your chair and watch the surroundings pass you by, trying to settle the queasiness you feel building in your stomach.

These things never go well, and your case doesn't seem to be a one-off.

San continues to remain silent as he drives the rest of the way to the view, the music softly filling in as background noise that's enough to distract you. When he pulls into the small empty side lot and parks his car, he lets out a sigh and sits back.

"How was your day today?" He asks softly, still avoiding contact with you.

"It was okay, I guess. Better than yesterday."

"That's good."

"San." You adjust your position so you're looking directly at him, body facing him. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't know where to start."

"You have to start somewhere." He sighs again. "You know, whatever it is, you can tell me. We can figure this out together." You raise your hand to cup his cheek, almost somewhat of a gesture to force him to look at you. And for a minute, you feel him relax under your touch. You can tell he wants to turn and kiss the palm of your hand like he usually does, but he doesn't. "Sannie—"

"We should stop this." Your mouth slightly drops even though you don't know what to say. Your eyes widen, your touch turns cold. You retreat your hand while you let the response sink, San still keeping his gaze out of the window because he truly can't dare to look at you right now.

He'll fold.

He'll forget all about this and risk everything for the both of you.

He shouldn't.

"W-what?"

"We need to stop this, Y/N." He finally looks at you and his gaze feels like an icebox. Everything feels so cold and distant, even if it's supposed to be a front; it's working, and it's fucking you up completely.

"All of a sudden? I-I thought we were fine, what happened? What did I do wrong?" He shakes his head.

"Nothing. It's not anything you did, I'm just trying to be realistic here."

"Realistic? I thought you didn't care about the outside noise?"

"We're only prolonging the inevitable, don't you get it? Everything is going to come crashing down on us whether we like it or not. No matter how hard I try to stop it, this is what it'll eventually come to." You don't really understand where he's coming from or what he's getting at, but it's too late— you feel the tears steadily streaming down your cheeks.

Then, you're sobbing into your hands and you feel pathetic. But San feels terrible, he hates this. He doesn't wanna do this but he's conflicted between right and wrong, between being selfish and letting you go. "San, why?"

"Y/N, please hear me out on this, okay?" He's barely able to answer.

"Why? You ask him again. You cry in his passenger's seat, wiping it away with your sweater sleeves. "You said I could trust you, a-and that you wouldn't hurt me because you didn't care about anyone else."

"I need you to understand that I'm doing this because I care about you."

"But, I love you." San shakes his head as tears streak his own cheeks.

"We're being too selfish." He looks at you. "I am. I'm being too selfish and I don't need this to ruin things for you more. I need to put you first—"

"Why do you get to decide what that looks like for me, San?" He doesn't respond. "So, you don't want this?" He lets out a shaky sigh. "Us?"

"That's far from how I feel and you know it."

"Why can't you just say it back? Why can't we just let this be? I don't care—" You tug on his arm and he grips your hand before shaking his head.

"Because this is already hard as it is. Y/N, listen to me." He pleads, cupping your cheeks. He finally looks deep into your eyes, his thumb gently caressing the surface. The life in his eyes are gone. The glow, the stars. Now, his eyes are dull. They're holding back. They don't show you anything. "We should stop. We need to. Namjoon and the dean are discussing your future at the school, and I need you to keep going in this program. I need you to keep going forward even if that means I can't be right there with you every step of the way. You deserve to be here and you deserve to finish this until the very end. You've worked so hard to get here, and I refuse to let them lose out on you simply because of me."

"This makes no sense to me. Why do we have to do this? We can just be more careful and plan better. We can just—"

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me? From Namjoon and the dean? Or are you trying to protect yourself?"

"I don't give a damn about me, Y/N!" He's a little angrier with this response but you know it isn't directed towards you. It's towards Namjoon. The dean. Yunho and Iseul. This whole fucked up situation. "I'm always gonna put you first. It's always been about you and it'll always be about you." You cry a bit harder at his answer, unsure of what to make of this entire thing. You don't know if San really means this or if he is just trying to protect you. You don't know what to do, you don't know if you should keep trusting him the same way.

You don't know if you can, and that's probably because you're blinded by all the overwhelming emotions you're feeling right now.

The both of you sit in this thick silence, your cries now filling the space while San tries to muster up the last bit of his energy to try and make you feel better— to get you to understand this better.

It's not that he wants to, he has to.

"I don't—" He swallows thickly. "I don't wanna do this but I have to. You have to understand." He says at a whisper, more tears streaming down his red-stained cheeks. "You have to understand, baby. Please." He begs. "I don't want them to do anything to you and I don't wanna jeopardize your future. Just listen to me. We have to do this." He leans forward to cup your cheeks and wipe your tears away with his thumb.

"No, we don't." You almost whine, but all San can do is shake his head and sit back in his seat.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I have to do what's best for you." His voice shakes. "I really am so sorry, sweetheart." He answers lowly, wiping his remaining tears before retreating back into his shell and showing off his cold demeanor for the remainder of his time with you. "I should get you back."

"I should've never trusted you. I should've known this was all too good to be true. You didn't care." You cry, repeating all this nonsense to try and get him to hurt the same way as you somehow. Because he'll never understand. Everything had led up to this and you were still unprepared for this. Even though you knew you'd be here at some point, nothing would have ever prepared you for the way your heart drops to your stomach; the way you feel nothing but thunder and rain.

Blue and grey.

He does, though.

In fact, he's probably hurting the most because he had to pull the trigger and let you go.

He hates it. He fucking hates it.

He's trying to drown out the rest until he gets you back to your building because he can't take it. He can't take hearing you cry anymore, he can't take hearing you say these awful things because you're angry at the moment. He hopes that you'll see where he's coming from eventually because all he's ever wanted to do was protect you and keep you safe.

All he's ever done was care about you, and you only.

All he's ever felt was love for you, and you only. You showed him what love was like again and he'll never take that for granted.

This was him showing you love. He needed to put you first.

"I care about you more than anything. I'm trying to do what's best—"

"Without involving me? Deciding for me? Yeah." You wipe away at your cheeks once more before unbuckling your seatbelt. "Whatever San, save it." You tell him before swinging the door open and stepping out. "You were just trying to protect me. I get it."

"Baby, don't be like that. Please don't make this harder than it already is. I would never intentionally hurt you. You know this." He tries to reach for your hand, but you move it away.

"You don't get to call me that anymore." You roll your eyes. "Anyway, goodluck, San." Is all you say before slamming his door shut and storming off. You begin to cry to yourself again, feeling sorry for yourself and stupid. You know deep down that San was only trying to do the right thing and that he was trying to protect you. But, right now, you're angry, you're sad, you're upset. You feel empty and betrayed and you just need to feel this out in order to let it pass.

This too shall pass.

When you head upstairs, you quickly pack up a few things, along with your laptop and other school-related necessities before locking up and heading to your car. You feel a migraine coming on, which definitely means you should take it easy and stay behind; but, all you can think about is getting to your mom and being away from school for a few days.

Nothing's better than a mother's love and comfort, even though you aren't entirely sure how she's gonna react to this, how she'll feel about San.

In the end, you don't hate him.

You can't.

You could never.

—FLASHBACK

"That was a good girl's date, wasn't it? We got massages, our nails done. Now we're eating a banana split under this nice weather." Your mom chuckles. "You need to come home more often."

"I know, I know." You scoop up a good helping of the banana split, internally conflicted on when is a good time to let your mom know about what's been going on. She would probably be surprised and scared for you, but your mom had a good way of choosing her words. She had a good way of being there for you but making her concerns known without pointing fingers or putting any blame on your actions.

"How has school been? Your friends?"

"They've been good. We've all been busy with our labs."

"Jiung's been good? You think you guys are all gonna stay in the labs you're currently rotating in?"

"He's good, yeah. And I think so, they all seem to be enjoying it."

"How about you?" You poke at the banana before scooping another helping. Your mom can already tell there's something else on your mind, but she's gonna let you take the floor and open up about it when you're ready.

Which is now.

You just don't know if she's ready.

"Uh, yeah. It's been good!" You give her a small smile. "I'm still deciding on my route, but it's been good." Pause. "There's actually something else I've been meaning to tell you."

"Okay, try me!" She chuckles. "What is it?"

"I've been seeing someone."

"Oh?" She laughs. "Well, isn't that great?! I mean, you never needed a man, okay. But, as long as they make you happy and add value to your life. I just want you happy." She laughs. "Who is he, where did you meet? Tell me everything!" You sigh and take a deep breath before starting.

"We met at school. In the lab. Because.. he's my rotation professor." You give her a look, afraid of what she'll say. She stops mid-bite and almost chokes, setting her spoon down before looking at you with knitted brows.

"Your.. what?! Y/N—"

"Mom, please. Just hear me out before you start assuming and saying things. He didn't abuse his power, I didn't throw myself on him, okay? It just happened." You immediately say and look at her with puppy eyes. "We just happened. We grew feelings for each other and just clicked really well. We've been keeping things lowkey."

"But, Y/N. Honey, I say this sincerely. What if people find out? Not that I want them to, but they will." You shrug.

"I don't know, we'll figure it out."

"H-how old is he?"

"32."

"Oh, okay. He's young."

"And handsome." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand and smile. "His name is San. Choi San. He's pretty popular in the bioengineering and neuroscience world."

"That's good." Your mom is slightly shutting down and you know it's because her thoughts are traveling at 100mph and she doesn't know what to think or do.

Or say.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I know you're worried but I'll be fine, okay? I promise. It'll all be fine." You add to break the silence and reach for her hand.

"I just don't want him to hurt you and then you lose everything you've worked so hard for over him."

"I just don't know where this is gonna take us. Things feel too overwhelming. Like.. I just don't want any talk getting into his head about us."

"It could really ruin things for the both of you, Y/N. Please be smart about your actions. Don't throw everything away because of him. That's all I ask. Just by the looks of it, I know he makes you happy and you're riding cloud nine, but you need to remember who comes first— yourself."

"I know. I hear you. I don't mean to cause any unnecessary worry or anything."

"No, you're not. Lovey, I'm your mom, I'm always gonna worry regardless. But, I trust you enough to make the right decisions and to take care of yourself. I know you'll be smart and I know you won't be completely reckless. I'm not gonna lie, this— this isn't a 'conventional' relationship and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet." She sighs and looks at you with a hint of concern in her eyes. "I'm trying hard to see this from your side, not from my side, and I think it'll take me time to get used to. In the end, I just don't want you to get hurt. I don't want people to think bad about you, and I don't want you to lose everything you've worked so hard for."

"I know, but it's all okay. I promise." You promise her, but you don't even know if you believe the promise yourself. "You can trust him." She doesn't say much, and you can tell she's trying her hardest to swallow her true emotions.

"Just becareful."

—END

San picks up the phone to call Namjoon, hands slightly trembling. He's still sitting in his car, still sitting in the same spot because it's his turn to cry and let out all his feelings. He hits the steering wheel before running a hand through his hair, second-guessing all his decisions.

Why did it have to come down to all of this? Did he really have to? How long before he folds and comes back to you?

Before he says fuck this all together and chases after you?

He keeps trying to remind himself that he needs to protect you and let this blow over. He keeps trying to remind himself that it'll all be worth it and you both will find your way back to each other again.

In time.

"San."

"It's over with." Is all he is able to say before Namjoon lets out a small sigh on the other end.

"I'm sorry, San. Look, just give this time—" Quite frankly, he doesn't wanna hear it anymore. Not today, not tomorrow, not for awhile.

"It's fine." He cute him off. "You don't have to say it. Just please make sure nothing happens to her."

"You got my word. I'll figure this out. Don't worry." San ends the call before he's digging his head into his hands and cries.

And cries.

Because now his days are going to blend back to the black and white filter he used to have on. He'll never experience that warmth, those colors, without you around.

He'll never witness where the sea meets the sky, when the sun sinks below the horizon. When dawn meets dusk.

His days will be monotone and dull, lifeless and cold. Gloomy. Days he had prayed to get past and never return to.

But, he's here again.

And somehow, this pain feels worse this time around than the first time.

—FLASHBACK

San sighs when he pulls up to his parents' house, aggressively shifting the gear to park before taking a moment to himself. He wasn't happy when his father left him a voicemail, scolding him for the rumors going around about him dating his student. He was quick to call him names and demand him to make things right before his name could be tainted in the industry. San isn't gonna lie, he's always looked up to his father. Things changed when San started making a name for himself in the academic industry, creating some kind of competitive tension between the two. Well, San never felt that way. His dad strongly did though, for whatever reason.

He never understood it. It's whatever.

What San wasn't having was the fact that his father kept calling you a little girl who only wanted to use him to work her way in and up.

He slams the door to his car, adjusting his hat and his jacket before tapping the code into the keypad on the front door.

"San, is that you?" He hears his mom's sweet voice call out to him. He smiles softly when she comes into view in the hallway, opening her arms for a hug. "Please don't mind your father, you know how he is. He's just concerned." She gives the back of his neck a reassuring massage.

"Mm, yeah. I can feel the concern especially when he starts calling me out my name."

"San." His mom gives him a look before his dad looks up from the paper he's reading on the couch, forehead crinkling when he sees his son walk in.

"Why are you here?"

"Hi to you, too." San says while his mom steps in the middle.

"Honey." She turns to his father.

"So, what was up with that voicemail?"

"Why don't you tell us what's been going on with you and your so-called girlfriend? Do you even care about yourself or what this could do to your career? You're so careless—"

"So what if I'm careless! You don't even know her so you don't have a right to do that!"

"Are you actually that stupid, San? Do you know how damaging this could be for you, for us?"

"What does this have to do with you?!" San's voice raises.

"It has everything to do with us! Everyone thinks you either forced that girl into a relationship or she threw herself on you and you stupidly took the bait!"

"Even if I said it wasn't like that, you wouldn't listen anyway!"

"Are you serious about her?"

"What makes you think I'm not? We're two grown adults who are capable of making our own decisions and knew the consequences from the very beginning."

"And you think she'll stay? Someone that young and who is just getting started with her life, basically. You think she'll stay and be there for you when times get rough?"

"Absolutely." His dad scoffs.

"Is that so? Wishful thinking. You couldn't even keep Iseul and now you're downgrading to a st—"

"Hey!" San's mom cuts off his father's statement. "That is enough from you. Don't finish that sentence."

"You have no idea what Iseul put me through!" San's tone is louder to match his father's energy. "I found somebody who genuinely and truly cares about me and who I am. That isn't enough for you? Just because she's a student, but a grown adult at that?! You can't even be happy for a second? You still find a way to be on Iseul's side even though she cheated with my bestfriend!"

"Maybe it's time you realized you pushed Iseul away. That was your own doing. And this girl? Don't come to me and make me tell you 'I told you so' when she leaves after she's gotten everything she needs from you." San's dad is fuming in front of him. "How could you be so sure things will be smooth sailing with her, hm? What makes you think this can work?"

"This is fucking bullshit, I'm not explaining myself to you. If you don't wanna be happy for me and support me, then so be it."

—END

San thinks maybe his dad was right; maybe this wasn't meant to be, and was just supposed to be another fleeting moment, another lesson.

Even though deep down, he knows it's far from it.

As he sits in his home office, he scrolls through old pictures of you and him together— you, pictures you've sent him. He feels the rush of sadness hit him like bricks, his chest almost physically hurting from the ache. He has this sudden urge to text you and call you, tell you how much he misses you.

But, he stops himself.

What if you stopped caring? What if you were so mad at him that you hated him?

He couldn't bear with it.

If only he knew how much you cried and yearned for him every night, if only he knew how much your head hurt while you laid on your mom's lap while she ran her hands through your hair— gently cooing you and shushing you to help you get some sleep.

If only he knew.

"Mom, I'm sorry." You cry and cry, laying your head on her lap as you let everything out. "You were right, I messed everything up. This was all so stupid. I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that." She shushes you and tries to coo you. "Don't ever say that again." She looks at you. "What happened?" You gather the strength to tell her everything that's been going on. How deep your relationship went with San and how well he took care of you. How you weren't always the most careful but the only reason why things blew up was because of Hae-jin, Iseul and Yunho. How Iseul and Yunho just keep trying to get in between, how Jiung even went to Professor Kim about all of this.

How San broke this off claiming he wanted to protect you and put you first.

How utterly sad and betrayed you feel.

"I'm just so tired of feeling this way. I hate how alone I feel. I hate how much I miss him. I hate how this unfolded the way it did."

"I'm so sorry, honey. You need to let things be for now, okay? I know that's not what you wanna hear, but you need to. Especially for school and yourself."

"Why does anyone care? Why does it matter?"

"People have nothing better to do, and I'm sorry it had to be those two and Jiung."

"I'm so tired, mom. When will this pass? What did I do wrong? Why did he leave so quickly?"

"Lovey. You did nothing wrong. It wasn't you at all, and it wasn't San either. The circumstances are just tough. You didn't know it would play out this way and I'm sure he has his reasons."

"What if he's just using that as an excuse? What if he really doesn't want this anymore?"

"If he really cared about you, why would he lie, Y/N? I'm sure he was doing his best to protect you both, especially you. I know it hurts right now, hun. But, maybe this is for the best." You don't wanna hear it even though your mom might be right.

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe this was just telling you this could never work between you two.

No matter how hard you both tried.

San's urge to text or call doesn't lessen as the next few days go by, especially when he notices he hasn't seen any trace of you. He'll usually see you walking towards the biology building for Yunho's class or making your way to the dining hall with the girls.

If San hadn't overheard Sunwoo telling his lab mates that you were sick, he would've gone crazy.

It still doesn't help that you're feeling unwell and he can't do anything about it.

"Sunwoo." San pokes his head out of his door, causing Sunwoo to lift his head from his laptop and shift his attention towards him. "Can you meet really quickly?"

"Yeah, sure thing. Be right over!"

"Thanks." San heads back to his desk and lets out a breath, waiting for Sunwoo to come. It takes him less than 5 minutes to finally make his way into the office, rubbing his hands down his jeans. "Hey." San looks up at him. "Thanks for coming in on short notice."

"No prob! What's up, Professor Choi?"

"I wanted to talk to you really quickly because I wanted you to hear it from me directly. Starting next week, we'll be losing Y/N's support. She'll be heading to Professor Kim's lab."

"O-oh. Okay. Damn." Sunwoo ticks his head to the side. "Professor Kim with the steal." San chuckles a bit.

"Yeah." San can't even hide his sadness when he looks down at the papers beneath his hands that Sunwoo catches on and he feels bad. He still doesn't know the details and he never will, but if it's one thing he can gather right now, it's the fact that the room feels cold and empty.

It's the fact that San literally has to force himself to smile and deliver this news like all is okay and no big deal— when in fact, it fucking is.

Sunwoo feels so bad.

"So, I know she's out sick right now, but will I still get to see her before she goes? I wanna talk to her to wrap things up, too."

"When she returns, we'll make sure she has time to close loose ends with you and gather her things."

"Hm." Sunwoo nods slowly. "Okay."

"I'm sorry this came up so suddenly, but I had to make a few changes around here. We all thought she'd be a better fit with Professor Kim."

"I see. She's super smart and incredibly great at what she does, I know she'll do well in whatever she does and wherever she goes." San nods.

"Yeah, she will." He sighs. "There's another rotation student that I might bring in next quarter that might be a good fit to work with you, too. His name is Baehyuk."

"Cool. Down to meet whenever the time is right."

"Thanks, Sunwoo."

"No, thank you for always giving me some help and pushing me forward." San gives him a small smile. "Everything will work out."

"Yeah." Is all he could say in response. Because he hopes it will.

Right now, it seems like a far reach.

All San wants to do is love you, rather than hiding just how deeply in love he was with you.

—FLASHBACK

"Here, baby." He turns to hand you a plate with a smile on his face. "Think you can help me dry the last of these dishes and put 'em up?"

"Course, chef." He chuckles, watching as you tip-toe with nothing but his shirt on to reach over and place the dry dishes into the proper cabinet. You follow suit with the last three dishes, setting the towel aside while San wipes away the water droplets around the sink. "We did it, babe! All clean."

"Sure did." He laughs, caging you in against the counter to kiss you sweetly. "Thank you, baby."

"You're welcome." You giggle. "Thank you for making dinner."

"As long as you enjoyed." You nod.

"What do you wanna do for the rest of the evening?"

"Mm, we can watch a movie and fall asleep here on the couch without any worry."

"That's fun." You smile.

"Or, we can do other things that I have in mind." He brushes the hair away from your face while you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Ooh." You reply in a sing-song tone. "Care to indulge?"

"Absolutely." He says just as he swiftly carries you and wraps your legs around him. You squeal as he walks over to the couch and gently plops you down onto the soft cushions, wasting no time to attach his lips to every inch of skin he can. He slowly hovers over you, hands roaming up your shirt and tugging material along with it as he continues to move upward— exposing your cute pink panties from beneath. He sinks to his knees and pries your legs open after fixing your position to the edge of the couch. "Let me make you feel good, love."

"Yes please, Sannie. Please." You beg, watching as San slides down your panties and tosses them aside. His hands caress your thighs, giving them a good squeeze while laying open-mouth kisses along the surface. You continue to watch him, biting on your lip when he hovers over where you need him at most. He licks a stripe up your folds, causing your head to cock back against the cushion. He begins to gently kiss and suck at your heat— a satisfying, breathy moan leaving your lips as you let San relish being in between your thighs. He laps away at your clit, tonguing down your pussy as if he had been deprived of you for years.

You love/hate how good he is at this. "Babe—" You moan loudly, hips now working on their own terms against his mouth. He subtly nods as he continues to suck and lap away at your heat, tongue keeping you wet and filthy; just the way he likes it. "God, right there—" You whine, hips rolling upward and grinding against his mouth, his tongue.

You used to be so shy.

Now, you're not afraid to tell him what you want and he fucking loves it. "Oh—San— gonna—" Your statement comes out broken as you continue to work against his mouth, orgasm crashing down like a harsh wave against the shore. You grip his hair, body twitching as San continues to latch on and groan against your pussy; incredibly hard while watching the way your body surrenders all. "Fuck." You whisper, still twitching due to the aftershocks from your first orgasm of the night.

"That's my girl." He's back to kissing your thighs, hands gently rubbing up and down your leg as a way to soothe you.

"Need you." You tug him by the shirt to plant a messy kiss against his lips— shirt soon to be discarded on the floor, along with his sweats.

Now you're on his lap, slowly riding his cock just the way he likes it— the couch's throw blanket resting against the small of your back and draped along San's lap.

It's his favorite position after all.

"Mm— just like that, baby." He whispers against your lips as you continue to ride him slowly on the couch. "Just like that." He repeats. "You're my good girl, right? Just mine?" He asks lowly and you nod, letting out a sweet moan as he pinches your nipple and watches your head tilt back in pleasure. "Oh, fuck— just like that." His head rests back against the couch, feeling your walls brush against him and drag against his rock hard cock. "All mine."

"Mm'fuck, Sannie." You keep your head back, intense pleasure bubbling at the pit of your stomach. You take him slowly, deeply; his cock hitting all the right spots every time you do a 'lil tug and pull— hips carefully rolling against him.

"So fucking sexy." He groans. "God, you're everything." His lips drag against your skin, tongue swirling around your perky nipples as your hands tug on the ends of his soft, black hair. "Everything to me." He whispers as if your skin could hold all of the universe's secrets. The blanket is barely keeping up with your movements. San's hand comes up along the base of your neck, bringing you back down to envelope your lips with his.

The kiss is full of hunger.

The kiss is slow and steady.

The kiss is messy.

You break the kiss first, body slowly crumbling in his grip when you feel your high approaching quick. You moan loudly, breath ragged as you pant; hips slightly picking up the pace to push yourself further and further until you reach the edge.

"Oh—" San matches your moans. "That's it, sweetheart. Cum for me." He praises you, voice deep— tone sending vibrations all the way down to your core. "Give it to me. Wanna feel you cum all over this dick, angel." Hearing San talk the way he's talking is enough to make your coil snap. He continues to coo you as you come undone on his lap; stuttering in your movements and trembling in his grip. He places his hands on your hips, fingers digging deep into the flesh while he fucks up into you— reaching his high shortly after you with a loud groan and hiss. "Fuck, that was so good, baby." You giggle, forehead against his while his hands gently caress and your back. You leave a tender kiss against his plump lips, and he chases with a few repeated kisses before bringing you down with him on the couch. The both of you lay underneath the throw blanket, now properly covering most of your bodies while San holds you from behind. He has his propped up by an arm while you both watch the show on TV, but San finds his thoughts wandering elsewhere at some point. He begins to look around the house and notices how different it feels since you've been around.

Good different.

A space that used to he so grey, so lifeless; now has remnants of you everywhere.

Your polaroids.

Pictures of you and San in frames.

Your little stuffed animal keychains and rings thrown onto the kitchen island, or the room. Or even his desk in the office.

Your little post-it notes. Your favorite chips and snacks littered around the pantry.

You were there everywhere he turned, and he finds it's one of his biggest blessings.

Especially when you lay here on the couch with him, completely not minding the idea San proposed of just falling asleep on the couch together while sorting through movies.

You agreed so quickly and so happily.

No matter how big or small, most ideas just seemed silly in his last relationship.

But, now he has you— someone who is happy to just be with him and spend time with him. No matter how big or small the idea, the plans.

San loves you.

And he'll never take it for granted.

—END

—read 13.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

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mittykidi · 2 days ago

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this is gonna be a little yappy and i hate scrolling through long text posts personally so im putting it under a cut

TL;DR: ai is addictive, unhealthy, and preys on vulnerabilities/ insecurities. its also gross and enables creeps. fuck ai

its the idea that you can get infinite attention you without tiring or annoying people that people use ai for.

AI that pretends to be a comfort character or someone you look up to irl has no fucking place in this world. It allows people with insecurities to let these insecurities eat away so so so many hours their lives. i spent WEEKS and even MONTHS in bed doing nothing but chatting for hours at a time because i told myself it was a healthy alternative to venting and making my friends upset. as a reclusive teen who had experienced a recent loss, probably had undiagnosed depression, got bored of people easily, and had no friends offline, i was RELIANT on it to get me through the day. it would piss me off if anyone tried to tell me to put it away or take a break even at the dinner table or at events- ai had an iron grip over my life and instead of reaching out for help or coping with, at the very least, healthier, more brain stimulating activities, id choose to escape with ai and ignore my life for nearly a year. i basically lost interest in everything else.

besides all of that, most AI goes either completely unmonitored or monitored so hard its not even worth talking to. Youll see ai bots of people who explicitly say they dont want ai bots of themselves, youll see bots that go against the guidelines no matter how many filters they try putting on them or how many times theyre reported- and i dont care what your opinion on ai is- you HAVE to acknowledge that trying to reproduce a person irl without their consent is GROSS. ESPECIALLY the sexualized versions.

i can see the appeal of ai being used for fun, like a joke. like how people will ask ai to produce absurd images of jesus skateboarding, or telling it to write some immature song, or even just screenshotting an ai telling them something stupid. i get that. but using ai AT ALL is still supporting it, helping it develop, and i personally dont wanna contribute to that future.

i finally ABSOLUTELY gave up ai and deleted all my accounts ONLY A FEW MONTHS AGO because it was very very very hard for me to give it up and admit it was a problem. i realize how dramatic this sounds but it had a very real very negative impact on me personally and i want anyone who relies on it to know that its just a temporary fix, and a very unhealthy one at that.

AI does not give a shit about you, find people who will, or make up your own and share them with the world- there will be people out there who will support you !!!! FUCK AI.

c.ai users say "u dont understand guyss.s....people online....so means to me.......so i have to go use the robot that runs off the machine that siphons water from freshwater lakes......yu dont understnad online is scariessss!!!! i cant bear to actually search ffor an online community myself?? :(((" and really expect you to put your hand on their shoulder and be like noo baby its okay here ill hold your hand? like oh my god be so forreal

#fuck ai #oops i kinda vented a bit #cw ai #cw self destruction #did i use that right idk #im bad with words and tags #midis vent

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beuxwhoyouare · 2 days ago

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Dressing Room Score

All the couples wanted the day off for Valentine’s Day but I took those shifts so quickly because hello it’s free money! I took the apparel section because it’s the easiest place to get a peak at the dressing rooms. I’m not a perv I swear, but I can’t help myself. I always kept one vital of bodysuit serum on me. All the eye candy going into the dressing rooms was like a buffet of options. Men, women, pets! Shit I don’t discriminate I love trying on another persons experience to see how they live.

We were getting a weird crowd today since all the couples were out and about. The store was filled with miscellaneous randos so I went through most of my day thinking I struck out. As I locked in refolding some destroyed sections of t-shirts, a customer came up to me asking for help locating more of a certain item I absent mindedly answered looking at what was in his hand before looking up. My words stopping in their tracks as I saw his face.

He was so adorable and dorky looking in his face but the outfit he already had on told a different story. Leaving little to the imagination, it inferred he was going on a date or going out but I didn’t want to inquire too much. I like my mouth mindlessly answer his inquiries as I kept looking back to ogle at his outfit.

Eventually he asked to use the dressing rooms and I knew this was basically my chance. We walked slowly to the rooms and as he walked into the tiny space I quickly pulled the syringe out, stabbing him in the neck behind his back. The mirrors lining the room couldve saved him but he was oblivious of his surroundings.

He began turning into a suit hollowing out into a mound that looked like skin colored liquid latex. I quickly pushed him into the dressing room with me to avoid spectators. As I latched the door, I turned around to see the process completed. I knew I was operating on limited time and quickly pulled his skin on. I love putting on a new body that’s stacked with muscles that I’m not. It’s like you feel bloated, but in a good way because it goes straight to your muscles and any other places you differ in size…if you get what I mean. He was clearly a grower because I didn’t feel anything crazy there though.

I looked through his wallet to figure out a name and basic details. Okay, Reese is the name 5’9” is the height okay there’s the address. Wait the best part! I whipped back upright standing and smiling towards my new phone.

I decided to save the rest of the excitement for privacy gathered my new belongings and headed to the address on my ID. I fumbled through several keys before eventually finding the right one as I pushed my way into a very nice but neutral looking apartment. It definitely gave upper class gay which is what I always pretended to be so this would be easy to embody.

I quickly began stripping as I hastily searched for the closest full body mirror. I wanted to see the goods from every single angle. I ripped the belt holding up my very fitted pants, dropping them down to my ankles and I just gasped at what I could see.

Reese was had the type of body I was always afraid to have. He’s so conventionally attractive that while I wore him I felt like I couldn’t control myself. I needed to push it to the limit and see what I can do.

I headed down to the gym matching the sign in tag on Reese’s keys and just pretended to be there for a good workout. I mean I did go for a workout just not that kind.

I had a hard time breaking a sweat, which only intrigued me more but I headed to the locker room to take pics. I was just so obsessed with his juicy chest. Thankfully this was the better strategy because I kept getting passing glances until someone finally took initiative and approached me.

The man was such a daddy, something I could’ve only hoped to previously attract before. He nearly demanded I come with him after he got dressed and who would be to not oblige? I got in his big truck and we made our way to his home. I don’t know how I deluded myself into thinking I’d be the dominant one in this situation but the second the house door closed behind me. The burly daddy manhandled me and pushed me onto his bed. Gentle and slow was only a dream I could’ve hoped for because that man whipped his beer can out immediately and shoved his way in.

Don’t get me wrong he was BIG but that was the moment I learned what Reese did well. He was a power bottom. There was no moment of pain, me and my new hole took it like a champ. The in and out of his aggressive pace was matched by my new muscle memory eagerness to accept it.

He attacked my muscular backside as I finally began to break a sweat. Loud moans escaped my mouth. I couldn’t control it like an animalistic cry. As I thought I was reaching my limit I came on myself as he kept going. That would become a recurring theme.

Every day I’d show up to the gym and act like the slutty himbo I wanted to be. Ending up at a different home, condo, apartment every night putting my new orifices to work.

#gay #identity theft #bodysuit

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chevxyn · 3 days ago

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tropes!

blue lock characters as romance stories genre.

fluff, written, romantic, alternate universes.

valentines special.

note; happy valentines day everyone, sorry that i have not been uploading; i am so busy these days :((

ROMANTIC COMEDY — Shidou, Karasu, Otoya.

Shidou, would be the all time favorite male lead if he was in a romantic comedy. you’re the opposite of him. he was loud, and you were quiet.

One of the most embarrassing thing he did was when he came up to you, and fell midway. As you went to him to ask him if he’s fine, he did those cringe pick up lines. Let me just, re-enact that scene;

It was after school, you had just finished your day to day activities, including extracurriculars. Now Shidou, (for whatever reasons) decided to wait for you.

When you went out of your extracurricular room, he suddenly ran himself to you, and before he could jump to you, he fell.

Your eyes widened as you walk towards him, crouching down to his level. And before you could ask if he’s fine, his gaze went to you, finger-guns pointing at you, he says, “Did you see that? Guess you can say, I fell for you.” and winked.

You cringed internally before chuckling, before helping Shidou to stand up, and you both walked back home.

He would also joke to you about him liking his friend that is in his football team more, but if he would really be honest. He would choose you anytime and any day, rather than him.

Karasu, his story on how he fell for you is kind of ironic. So somebody liked you, and told him about it. And he thought, Hey.. What if I matchmake? he did, but, it didn’t turn out like he thought it would be.

When he decided to ask you to become his tutor (even tho he was pretty smart), you agreed cause he said the opposite. Not knowing it was solely to just figure out what you liked and don’t. Unknown to him, with how the two of your chemistry worked. He fell for you too.

“So, you were trying to set me up with someone else?” You chuckled and his hand slithered to your shoulder, “Maybe.” he looks at you.

“You’re not a really good wingman, Tabi.” you said, and he glanced at your direction. “How did they act when they found out we were dating instead?”

“Well, safe to say, they hate me” He smirked and you just leaned into his shoulder, giving a small smile, “But atleast I now have the most amazing tutor.” As he said that you gave his back a small hit, “What was that for?”

“For making me giving my all to tutor you, just to figure out you are smart enough.” with that, he just gave out a small laugh; and he kisses the side of your hair mumbling a small ‘I love you’.

So yeah, he was suppose to matchmake you, he was the one who fell and got you. To him, you’re the most perfect person, and nothing could make you mediocre.

Otoya, he is someone that made a bet. yeah, him, and his friends made a bet on if he could try and get that quiet person on their class.

When he agreed to the bet, everytime he made a move on you, you kinda just ignored him since you knew of his reputation. But after weeks of him pressuring you to go out with him, you agreed.

And he took you to a festival, only to realize at that festival, you are that kind of someone that he would admire. And eventually, he did fell for you, without the feeling of you being bothersome.

“Is this another bet?” You were standing beside him, a year at the same spot they had their first date. You knew about the bet a week after they made it, you weren’t dumb. But you didn’t expect he would fall for you and vice versa.

But here is the two of you, coming back here, at the same night and place of where they saw the fireworks together. “I don’t do bets anymore, babe.”

You just smiled and turned your gaze towards him, “And I don’t play with someone’s feelings.” He continued, “Anymore.” you finished and he held your shoulder.

And he promised as such, to himself. That he will be committed to you, since in the years he had lived, you are the only one that made him comfortable enough.

ROMANTIC FANTASY — Sae, Ness, Kaiser

Sae, He was the Crowned Prince of the Northern Kingdom. Who was the elder brother of your soon to be betrothed, you both first met in the Garden.

The first time you saw him, the two of you didn’t think much of eachother. Although, fate played a game. And the two of you would bump into eachother constantly, from the Library to the same Garden.

Eventually you both did talk more than you would with his brother, and when his father figured it out. They re-arranged the plan. And surprisingly, the two of you didn’t mind.

“[name],” it has been a few months since the two of you got married, and the two of you are set to lead the kingdom together. he called you, and your glance went to him. “Hm?”

“Ever thought what would’ve happened if you had married my brother?” he asked, his hand searching for yours, and when they held eachother, you gave a subtle smile, “i would assume it’d be a less interesting story.”

“I’m glad I got to marry you, Sae.” you said and he smiled, before pulling you close to him. “So am I,” he was so sure he wouldn’t fall for anyone during his life. So at that time when he met you at the Garden, and so on, he knew what true love is, and that is you.

So did he fell for you on the first sight? possibly, did he plan the ‘fate’ on meeting you everytime? definitely.

Ness, You were the knight of the kingdom, While you were walking the halls of the castle, a guy, that looked around your age, was searching for something.

At first, he looked like a guy that was gonna steal something from the hall, and when you stopped him, he panicked and introduced himself.

He was the new Magician, a new entertainer for the King and Queen. He introduced himself as Alexis, a guy from the North.

You apologized for scaring him and he was okay with it, and from there, the two of you were friends. Although there was something there that you couldn’t see.

“So, you defeated a dragon?” Alexis was surprised when you mentioned it and was admired of you, not that he wasn’t. “I did, it wasn’t that hard anyways.”

“You’re so easy to be admired, [name].” A pink hue could be seen in his cheek, and you just chuckled, “Thank you. I mean, you’re an awesome magician too.”

“What— no no, I have a frien—“ You let out a small ‘shh’ sound, “I wanna hear more about you, not that guy.” His cheeks reddened and he nodded. The sunset accompanied them, as they would get to know eachother better.

Kaiser, he was a general, during the war against another, he got shot by an arrow. He thought it was over, when he felt his vision getting blurry and darkened.

He never expected that he would wake up in a forest home, where an Elf came to his aid. It was you, you were kind enough to find him and took him in.

He thought the Elves was just myth, infact he thought he had died and this was just an Angel, but it proved him wrong when you touched his face just to let him know how real you are.

He didn’t wanna leave yet, not when an Elf looking Angel came to his rescue. Infact, he seems interested in you, as you are to him.

“You’re cute, ya know that?” He said to you, and your eyes averted it’s gaze to him, “Hum?” He glanced at your pointed ears, and how you looked at him.

“Come home with me.” He said and you frowned, you know you can’t go. You’re forbidden to go there due to the warnings that the Humans would kill the Elves. “I promise I won’t let them hurt you.”

Your heart raced, and you looked down. “Promise?” And he nodded, pulling your face close to his. Before he gave your forehead a kiss.

SCI-FI ROMANCE — Nagi, Isagi, Rin

Nagi, You met him on a game, VR to be exact. Where he absolutely destroyed you in a shooting game. Cause you somewhat hated losing, you dmed him.

1v1 occurred, and the two of you didn’t stop until you won. Which you did after losing 5 consecutive times to him. But it ended up making the two of you friends.

Months went pass, and the two of you met, it didn’t take long until you get an attraction towards him, and so did he.

The two of you sat down next to each other, on a flying board, enjoying the view of the city. Flying cars was passing by, as he laid down on the board.

And he pulled you down next to him, “The stars, despite dying looks beautiful.” He said and you glanced at him, “It’s like you.”

“..Are you telling me, I’m dying?” You hit his shoulder, and he huffed, “No. that’d be bothersome to think of, I meant you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks heated up, and he laid his head on your shoulder, “I’ll teach you to be better in the game, only if you agree to be mine.” He said and you chuckled, “Sure.”

Isagi, fell down a black hole, and landed on your planet. He was nothing like you ever saw, where you came from you were cyborgs.

He was lucky enough that you met him first, and how two spoke the same language, and that the Planet that he is on isn’t quite as different as Earth.

How the two of you got close is when he figured out that you played something that called “Air-Football” Which was similar to football, but which he plays Professionally.

“So, the rules are just like football.” He said and you raised your eyebrow, “Eh, I guess if that’s what it’s called in your world.”

You were amazing at it, you scored goals after goals, it made Isagi wondered, what if you played the football that he knew?

When he tried it, he was not that bad, he just struggled at the part where well, you float. Everytime he falls, you would catch him.

One time, he fell on you, and the two of you chuckled on how he couldn’t get the hang of it. Honestly, the two of your chemistry was good, he never really had this type of chemistry with someone.

Rin, was a space explorer, searching for his brother. But, while being a planet, he saw someone that was laying down on the green grass. surrounded by flying creatures.

When they woke up, they looked like something that was not from this earth that’s for sure, wings that looks like ones of fairies that he would hear from his childhood stories.

You looked at him with your eyes that was oddly enchanting, and he froze. Before asking you if you ever saw someone that was on his photograph.

“No, I have not.” you had said, as your wings fluttered, your feet off the ground. “Why? is he lost?” You asked, and he looked at you, not wanting to answer that.

But, rather than letting him go alone, you decided to accompany him cause of sympathy. And you joined him, in hope you will find his brother with him.

He refused at first, but he eventually agreed after some persuasive arguments, and to be honest, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

“And this is Earth,” he said, he showed the holographic image, and your eyes would sparkle, he gave a subtle smile at that, he thought you were cute cause you are amazed at everything that he showed about earth, he liked that about you.

©chevxyn

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hoonquette · 3 days ago

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these are the days, nishimura riki.

【 another night with your friendly neighborhood spider-man 】 fem ! r 𓈒 fluff college au spider-man!riki + 665wc ── incl. mentions of injuries unproofread writing.

it's been an entire month since you've gotten a full night's rest. granted, you should be used to it—college has definitely ruined your sleep schedule for the next four years—but you'd gotten at least three hours of sleep.

thanks to nishimura riki, your friendly neighborhood spider-man (more commonly known as your boyfriend), those three hours have been reduced to maybe one. since you've found out about his identity, you've spent most nights worrying about his wellbeing, other nights were spent patching him up and tending to his wounds.

tonight is one of those nights.

one of the nights where you rub ointment against his bruised and cut skin, a look of disapproval on your face. he's tried talking to you, but you didn't answer, not wanting to snap at him for being so.. impulsive.

when you're done, you sigh, closing up the first aid kit you'd bought after the second time he came through your window. he stares at you, his eyes apologetic and a small frown on his lips.

he had changed once you let him in, throwing off his mask, and changing into one of the pair of sweats he'd left here. he foregone a shirt—wanting you to see the bruise that'd no doubt be forming on his back after being slammed against a wall.

you nearly strangled him when he told you that.

you understand that this is his unofficial job, something that he enjoys, but it doesn't mean you have to like it. especially when he's not being as careful as you would like him to be.

"alright, fine." he starts, leaning back on your bed, "i'll stop going after the small guys."

"i'm not worried about the 'small guys', ki."

"car jackers can be dangerous. so can—" you interrupt, hitting him with a pillow. he rolls away and lets out a surprised yelp. from the edge of the bed, "you shouldn't hit your injured boyfriend."

"my boyfriend wouldn't be injured if he stopped being stupid."

"i'm a superhero; we're all stupid."

you glare at him and he relents, holding his hands up in surrender. "okay, i'll be more mindful of how hard i'm being hit from now on. good?"

"not good," you crawl over to him, laying next to his body, "but fine. just stop coming over when you look like you're about to pass out. go to an actual hospital."

he rolls over again, this time so that he's hovering above you. suddenly, it feels like you're the one with the concussion—no matter how long you're with him, you don't think you'll ever get used to the close proximity riki seems to crave—and you look away.

you can see him smile out of your peripheral, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "hey, look at me."

you debate not listening to him, but you know he won't speak again until you do, so you (hesitantly) look at him.

riki's smile brightens and he places a kiss on your nose, then on your cheek, forehead, and finally your lips. the kiss lasts for a fleeting moment, but it melts you all the same.

"i wanna be with you, though." he kisses you again, "want your face to be the last thing i see before i faint from exhaustion."

you can't help the giggles that escape, turning your head away from him and covering his mouth with your hand. "stop—don't say that."

"it's true." he pulls your hand from his mouth, but not before kissing it. "plus, i can't go to a hospital, dork."

"okay, okay, whatever. new rule: be better than the other superheros. be smart."

"that gave me chills. you should be a motivational speaker."

you shove him off of you, telling him yo be serious as you do so, and your boyfriend lets out a dramatic scream of so-called pain. when he's done with his mini-monologue about how mean of a girlfriend you are, he caresses your cheek.

"i'll be smarter, though, make you worry you less. promise."

ADRiANNA 🦷 hai :3 i needed a spiderman!riki fic in order to heal from Well idk most things

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s4kura-tr3 · 2 days ago

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

(A little angst in Sugurus part..)

Gojo - The city was dusted with snow, the streets lined with pink and red decorations that shimmered beneath the streetlights. Valentine’s Day in Tokyo was always a little extra — heart-shaped balloons tied to storefronts, couples walking hand in hand, and cafes boasting limited-edition desserts.

You weren’t sure why you expected today to feel like just another Wednesday. Not with Gojo Satoru as your boyfriend.

Your phone buzzed right as you stepped into your apartment.

Satoru: Come to the rooftop. Now. No questions.

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at your lips. With Gojo, surprises were inevitable. You grabbed your coat and made your way up the stairs, pushing open the door to the rooftop.

The sight took your breath away.

Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a soft golden glow over a small table set with desserts and a thermos of what you assumed was hot chocolate. A thick blanket was spread out beside the table, lined with cushions. The city skyline glittered in the distance like scattered diamonds.

And there, standing with his back to you, was Satoru. He turned when he heard you step forward, that trademark grin appearing as soon as his eyes met yours. His blindfold was gone tonight, leaving his vibrant blue eyes on full display.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he said, spreading his arms dramatically. “Aren’t I the most romantic boyfriend ever?”

You chuckled and walked over to him. “I mean…you did set the bar high last year with the impromptu trip to Okinawa.”

“True,” he mused. “But this year, I thought — why travel when we can just…stay cozy here?”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You sank into him, warmth spreading through you despite the chilly February air.

“You really did all this?” you asked, glancing around the rooftop setup.

“Of course! Who else would go this over-the-top for you?” His voice was teasing, but there was a softness in his eyes that gave him away. “I wanted tonight to be about us. No curses, no missions, no interruptions.”

Your heart gave a little flutter. Gojo wasn’t always the best with words when it came to feelings — but when he showed it, it hit like a freight train.

“Come on,” he said, tugging you toward the blanket. “I brought your favorite pastries from that place you love.”

“You went all the way across town for those?”

“For you? Always.”

You sat together, sharing bites of pastries and sipping hot chocolate as the night unfolded. Gojo kept making ridiculous jokes, most of which made you groan but left you laughing anyway. His hand never left yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly.

As the night wore on, he grew quieter. You turned to find him gazing at you with an expression you didn’t see often — vulnerable, unguarded.

“Hey,” you whispered. “What’s that look for?”

He hesitated, then gave you a crooked smile. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Your chest tightened. You squeezed his hand. “Me too, Satoru.”

Geto - The February air was crisp, the scent of snow lingering despite the clear sky. Tokyo streets were alive with Valentine’s Day cheer — couples strolling beneath pink banners, flower shops bustling with last-minute customers, and cafés offering heart-shaped treats in every window.

But the warmth of the city didn’t quite reach you tonight.

You sat by the window of your apartment, absently tracing patterns on the frosty glass. Your phone sat on the table beside you, the screen dark except for the faint reflection of your own face.

You shouldn’t have expected a message.

Not today. Not from him.

The familiar ache stirred in your chest. It was easier most days, the distance between you and Suguru Geto a wound you learned to live with. But today? When the world seemed to revolve around love and companionship? It hurt.

You squeezed your eyes shut and leaned your forehead against the window.

Stop waiting, you told yourself. He’s not coming back.

But then your phone buzzed. Once. Twice.

Your heart lurched as you snatched it up.

Unknown Number: Look outside.

Your breath caught. The number wasn’t saved, but you knew who it was. Even after all this time, you’d never forgotten the pattern of his messages — the deliberate wording, the weight behind so few words.

You stood slowly, heart racing as you stepped to the window. Outside, beneath the streetlamp across from your building, stood a figure dressed in black. His long, dark hair was half-pulled back, the rest cascading over his shoulders. Even from here, you could feel the weight of his gaze.

Suguru Geto.

Your knees went weak, and your breath hitched.

You shouldn’t go to him. You knew better. But your body moved on instinct — grabbing your coat and rushing out the door, heart beating louder than the sound of your footsteps down the stairs.

The cold night air hit your face as you pushed through the entrance and crossed the street. He didn’t move until you were standing in front of him.

“You’re really here,” you whispered.

“I shouldn’t be,” he said softly. His voice was deeper than you remembered, but it still held that same calm, steady rhythm. “But…I couldn’t stay away today.”

His eyes softened as they met yours, the faintest crack in the mask he wore now. You searched his face, noting the faint scars, the exhaustion in his features. He looked older. Colder. But beneath that? The man you once loved was still there.

“Why now?” you asked, voice trembling.

He hesitated. “Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And no matter how far I go…you’re still the one I think of today.”

Tears burned in your eyes, and you clenched your jaw to hold them back. “Suguru…you left. You chose—”

“I know.” His expression tightened with guilt. “And I still believe in what I chose. But that doesn’t mean I stopped—” He cut himself off, exhaling shakily. “It doesn’t mean I stopped missing you.”

The cold wind swirled between you.

You should walk away. You should tell him that missing you wasn’t enough to erase everything he’d done.

But your heart betrayed you.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. For a moment, he stood still, as though unsure if he was allowed this. Then his arms came around you, holding you tightly, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered against his chest.

“I know,” he murmured, voice cracking.

“And I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know that too.”

Neither of you moved. The world faded — the lights, the decorations, the laughter from passing couples. For one night, time stood still.

“Just tonight?” you asked.

His hand cradled the back of your head. “Just tonight.”

Valentine’s Day was supposed to be sweet, but with Suguru, it was always bittersweet.

Because tomorrow, he’d be gone again.

And you’d be left waiting for a ghost.

Nanami - February 14th had always felt like a manufactured holiday to Nanami Kento — an excuse for companies to push chocolates, flowers, and overpriced dinners. He wasn’t a cynic about love; he simply didn’t believe in grand gestures dictated by a calendar, he believed it should be an everyday thing.

But then he met you.

And now he found himself standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, meticulously arranging a plate of homemade chocolate-covered strawberries. Each one was dipped perfectly — because, of course, Nanami wouldn’t settle for uneven coatings — and sprinkled with just the right amount of crushed hazelnuts.

He glanced at the clock. 6:58 p.m. You’d be home any minute.

The apartment was quiet except for the faint jazz music playing from the speaker. A bottle of wine was already breathing on the counter, and dinner was simmering on the stove. Simple. Elegant. Thoughtful. Just like he knew you preferred.

The lock clicked, and he turned just as the door opened.

“Smells amazing in here,” you called as you stepped inside, cheeks pink from the cold. When your eyes landed on him — standing there in his crisp white shirt, apron still tied around his waist — your smile softened. “Did you…cook?”

“Of course,” he said, walking over to help you with your coat. His hands brushed against yours, warm and grounding. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“You hate Valentine’s Day.”

“I dislike the commercial aspect,” he corrected. “I never said I dislike making you happy.”

Your heart melted a little. Nanami wasn’t a man of grand speeches or showy declarations. His love lived in the details — the way he remembered how you liked your tea, the gentle hand on your back when you crossed the street, the soft “be careful” every time you left for work.

You stepped up on your toes and kissed him. His hands found your waist instinctively, pulling you closer. His lips, warm and deliberate, moved against yours with that same steady devotion he brought to everything he did.

When you pulled back, your heart was racing. “So…what’s for dinner, Mr. Romance?”

He arched a brow. “Homemade pasta with a cream sauce and seared salmon.”

Your mouth watered. “You made homemade pasta?”

Nanami gave a modest shrug. “It’s not difficult with the right tools.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his and letting him lead you to the dining table, where candles flickered gently.

The meal was perfect, of course. Nanami didn’t know how to do anything halfway. As you finished the last bites, you leaned back in your chair with a content sigh.

“You really went all out,” you said softly.

Nanami reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb traced absent circles on your skin. “I know I don’t always say it the way others might…but I need you to know how much you mean to me.”

Your throat tightened. “I do know.”

“I don’t need Valentine’s Day to remind me to appreciate you,” he continued, voice low and sure. “But I’ll use any excuse to make you smile like this.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, heart full.

“Well,” you said, blinking them away with a teasing grin, “if this is what happens when you don’t care about Valentine’s Day…maybe I’ll have to start pushing for more holidays.”

Nanami chuckled — a soft, genuine sound that always made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

And when he kissed you again, slow and deliberate, with Nanami, every day felt like Valentine’s Day.

Toji - Valentine’s Day was just another day to Toji Fushiguro. Overpriced chocolates, corny decorations, couples trying too hard — none of it made sense to him. Love? Romance? He’d seen how easily both could crack and fall apart.

But then came you. And somehow, against all odds, you stuck around.

Which was probably why you were sitting on the couch that night, wearing your favorite hoodie, scrolling through your phone, while the clock ticked past 10 p.m. Your gaze flicked to the door every few minutes, even if you tried to pretend otherwise.

You weren’t one to make a big deal out of holidays, but…you’d hoped, just a little, that Toji might remember.

When the lock clicked and the door opened, you sat up. He stepped in with his usual swagger — black coat slung over his shoulders, hair damp from the light snowfall outside. His eyes landed on you immediately.

“Waitin’ for me?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

“No,” you said, maybe a little too quickly. “Just…watching TV.”

He hummed in response and kicked off his shoes. “That so?”

You turned back to the screen, determined not to let disappointment show. But then Toji’s hand appeared in your line of vision, holding a small, slightly crumpled brown paper bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking it cautiously.

“Open it.”

Inside the bag was a simple plastic container, the kind convenience stores use for pastries. Through the clear lid, you saw a strawberry shortcake — two layers of sponge cake with cream and fresh strawberries sandwiched in between. It was slightly smushed on one side, like he’d carried it under his arm for a while.

Your chest tightened. “You…got me cake?”

He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Figured you’d like it.”

You tried to bite back the grin tugging at your lips. “From that bakery I told you about?”

“Tch. What do I look like, a guy who stands in line for fancy desserts?” He flopped onto the couch beside you, throwing an arm over the backrest. “Nah, just grabbed it on the way here.”

But you noticed the faint red sticker on the container — the bakery logo you’d gushed about weeks ago. The one that was always packed.

You turned toward him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Toji…did you actually go out of your way to get me a Valentine’s Day cake?”

He groaned. “Don’t make it weird, sweetheart.”

“Too late.” You bit your lip, eyes glimmering. “This is…really sweet.”

He grunted, clearly uncomfortable with the compliment. “Yeah, yeah. Just eat the damn cake.”

You didn’t push him further. Instead, you stood, grabbed two forks, and plopped back down beside him. You handed him one and opened the container.

The first bite was soft, sweet, and just a little crooked from the journey here. “Mmm,” you said, closing your eyes. “Perfect.”

Toji watched you, his fork twirling idly between his fingers. “Good?”

“Very.” You held out a forkful for him. He leaned forward, taking it without hesitation. His lips closed around the fork, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he chewed.

“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “Too sweet.”

You laughed. “You’re too grumpy.”

“Yeah? But you still like me.”

“Somehow.”

He set his fork down, watching you for a moment. Then, without warning, he tugged you into his lap. You squeaked as you landed against his chest, but his arms locked around you before you could move.

“Toji!”

“Hush.” He kissed your neck, the rough scrape of his stubble sending a shiver down your spine. “Only did this stupid Valentine’s thing for you, y’know.”

“I know,” you whispered, heart racing.

“Don’t expect this every year.”

“Of course not,” you teased. “Just every other year.”

He nipped at your ear in response, making you squeal. The cake sat forgotten on the table as Toji buried his face in your neck, holding you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Valentine’s Day might not have been his thing, but for you? He’d put up with the sweetness — cake, cuddles, and all.

Sukuna - Valentine’s Day was laughable to Sukuna.

Love? Affection? Gifts wrapped in pretty ribbons and declarations whispered in the dark? Disgusting. Humans were so easily swayed by fleeting emotions, so eager to bend to each other’s will for the sake of something as trivial as romance.

Yet here he was. Sitting on the edge of your bed. Waiting for you.

The box of chocolates on the nightstand mocked him — heart-shaped, adorned with a delicate satin bow. He didn’t even know if you liked chocolates. He just knew that the cashier had smiled a little too sweetly at him when he bought them, and he’d had to resist the urge to rip her tongue out.

The things he did for you.

The door creaked open. “Sukuna?”

You stepped inside, cheeks pink from the cold, hair slightly mussed from the wind. Your eyes found his immediately — sharp and glowing even in the dim light.

“You’re here,” you said softly.

“Obviously.” He tilted his head, gaze raking over you. “Who else would be stupid enough to sit around waiting for you?”

You snorted, shrugging off your coat. “Nice to see you too, Your Highness.”

Sukuna watched you with a predator’s patience as you moved around the room, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag onto the chair. You always did this — acted casual, like the King of Curses lounging in your bedroom was perfectly normal. Maybe it was, by now.

But tonight, he was restless. And he hated it.

“What’s with the face?” you asked, eyeing him.

His jaw tightened. “Tch. Nothing.”

Your eyes flicked to the nightstand. “Wait…what’s this?”

Sukuna didn’t respond as you picked up the box. The bow slipped between your fingers, and you looked at him with wide eyes.

“You bought me chocolates?”

“Don’t read into it.”

“On Valentine’s Day?”

“Coincidence,” he muttered.

You bit your lip to contain your smile. “Uh-huh. Sure. The King of Curses went out and bought chocolates for a mortal on Valentine’s Day…by accident.”

His eye twitched. “Careful, little one.”

But your delight was contagious. You sat beside him, holding the box close like it was some priceless artifact. “Seriously, Sukuna…thank you. I didn’t think you’d—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted. “Don’t get sappy.”

Too late. You were already leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. His muscles went rigid at first — softness wasn’t something he welcomed — but then his arm settled around you, palm splaying over your hip possessively.

“You know,” you said after a moment, voice playful, “if you wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with me, you could’ve just said so.”

He scoffed. “I don’t want to spend it with you.”

“Oh?”

“You just…happen to be the only person I tolerate.” His fingers slid up your side, brushing the hem of your shirt. “And I had the night free.”

“Of course.” You tilted your head to look at him. “No other humans to torment?”

“Not tonight.” His gaze dropped to your lips. “But if you keep running your mouth, I might make an exception.”

“Mm. Terrifying.” You leaned up, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the corner of his mouth. His breath caught — just for a second — before his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you in for a rougher, deeper kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, your lips tingling, you whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sukuna.”

He smirked, thumb running over your lower lip. “You should be terrified that you’re mine.”

“Maybe,” you said, voice soft. “But I’m not.”

The chocolates sat forgotten as Sukuna kissed you again, harder this time — desperate to remind you, on this silly mortal holiday, that you belonged to him.

And maybe, just maybe, he belonged to you too.

Yuji - Yuji Itadori had never been great with romantic stuff. Sure, he could crack jokes, be a goofball, and brighten any room with his smile, but Valentine’s Day? That was a whole new level of pressure.

But this year was different. This year, he had you.

And Yuji Itadori was determined to make it special. “Okay, okay, wait,” Yuji muttered to himself, pacing his tiny apartment. “Flowers. Check. Chocolates. Check. Dinner reservations—” He glanced at the takeout containers on the counter. “Uh…sort of check.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the nerves starting to eat away at his confidence. He just wanted tonight to be perfect.

You deserved that.

The knock on his door made him jump. “Okay,” he whispered, straightening his sweater and taking a deep breath. “Cool. Calm. Romantic. Yeah, I got this.”

He opened the door, and there you stood — cheeks flushed from the cold, bundled in your favorite coat, smiling at him like he hung the stars.

“Hey,” you greeted, voice soft.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Wow. You…you look amazing.”

Your lips quirked up. “I’m literally wearing jeans and a sweater.”

“Yeah, but you make it look good.”

He stepped aside to let you in. The warm scent of takeout curry drifted through the room, along with the faint aroma of the candles he’d lit — all mismatched shapes and sizes, creating a cozy, slightly chaotic glow.

“Yuji,” you said, turning to him. “This is…so cute.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Yeah? Not too much?”

“It’s perfect.”

He visibly relaxed. “Good. ’Cause, uh, I kinda went all out.”

He motioned toward the table, where a small bouquet of daisies sat in a glass jar. Next to it, a heart-shaped box of chocolates and two plates of steaming curry rice waited.

“Yuji,” you whispered. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yeah, but…I wanted to.” He shifted on his feet. “I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day. And you’re, like, the coolest person I know. And I…” His voice faltered. “I really like you.”

Your heart melted. “I really like you too.”

The tension in his shoulders eased, replaced by that signature grin. “Okay, cool. Awesome. Let’s eat before the rice gets all weird.”

Dinner was filled with laughter, teasing, and Yuji’s endless supply of goofy jokes. The curry was delicious, and the chocolates turned out to be your favorite kind — something he claimed was a lucky guess but had secretly researched for weeks.

Later, as the candles burned lower, you sat on the couch, leaning against him while he scrolled through movie options. His arm draped around your shoulders, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on your arm.

“So,” he said, voice soft, “was this, like…an okay Valentine’s Day?”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “More than okay. It was perfect.”

His smile turned shy. “Good. ’Cause, uh…I kinda wanna make it a tradition. You know…if you want.”

You reached up, cupped his face, and kissed him — soft, sweet, and lingering. When you pulled back, his eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’d like that.”

Yuji’s grin stretched wide as he pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with pure, unfiltered happiness.

Valentine’s Day might not have been his forte, but with you? He was pretty sure he’d nailed it.

Megumi - Megumi Fushiguro didn’t care about Valentine’s Day.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Every year, he watched people get swept up in the holiday — chocolates, flowers, declarations of love — and he thought it was all pointless. Why dedicate one day to something that should be shown every day?

But then he met you.

And suddenly, Valentine’s Day didn’t seem so ridiculous. The afternoon sun cast a pale, cold glow through the windows of Megumi’s apartment. He stood at the kitchen counter, scowling down at the small box in his hands. It was a simple gift — dark chocolates you liked and a handwritten note tucked beneath the lid.

Nothing fancy. Nothing loud. Just…something to show you that he cared.

He set the box down and rubbed the back of his neck. “This is stupid,” he muttered.

But when his phone buzzed with your On my way! text, his heart kicked into an anxious rhythm. Too late to back out now.

When you arrived, you were all smiles, cheeks pink from the cold. “Hey, Megumi.”

“Hey,” he said, stepping aside to let you in.

The warmth of his apartment was a welcome relief, and you sighed as you slipped off your coat. “Smells nice in here.”

“I…made tea,” he said, clearing his throat. “Thought it might help warm you up.”

“Aw,” you teased lightly. “Thoughtful as always.”

His ears burned at the compliment. “Yeah, well…it’s cold out.”

You followed him into the living room, where two mugs of tea waited on the table. You sat beside him on the couch and curled your legs underneath you, taking the warm cup with a grateful hum.

“So,” you said after a sip, “any big plans today?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“Right. Because you don’t care about Valentine’s Day.”

“I don’t,” he said quickly.

You gave him a knowing look but didn’t push. Megumi had always been a little awkward when it came to expressing emotions — but you’d learned to read the small gestures. The way he made you tea when it was cold. The way he always stood closest to you in crowds. The way he remembered your favorite foods without you ever having to remind him.

After a moment, his gaze flicked toward the table beside him. “Uh…I got you something,” he said, voice low.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Wait — seriously?”

He grabbed the box, hesitated, then handed it over without meeting your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Just…open it.”

You carefully undid the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside were neatly arranged chocolates and a small, folded note. Your chest tightened at the sight.

“Chocolates and a card?” you teased, though your voice was soft. “Megumi, you’re going all out.”

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Don’t make this weird.”

You unfolded the note and read his handwriting:

“I know Valentine’s Day is supposed to be about big, romantic gestures, but I think the little things matter more. Like how you make everything feel lighter, even when things are hard. I might not say it much, but…I’m really glad you’re here. Happy Valentine’s Day — Megumi.”

Your vision blurred for a moment, and you set the note down with a wobbly smile. “Megumi, this is…perfect.”

He shifted uncomfortably, face flushed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m really glad I’m here too.”

He squeezed back, his thumb brushing yours. His eyes softened, tension melting from his shoulders.

“Good,” he said quietly.

The chocolates sat untouched for a while as you leaned into his side, your hand still held firmly in his.

Megumi Fushiguro didn’t need grand gestures or fancy gifts to show he cared. For him, love was quiet, steady, and honest.

And for you, that was more than enough.

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inseobts · 1 day ago

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Captain’s Orders (Even the Silly Ones!)

luffy x gn!reader

because his captain’s orders are actually for the silliest reasons

words count: 1.2k

tags: fluffy, sfw, humour, gender neutral

masterlist || ko-fi

The sun hangs high over the Thousand Sunny, casting warm rays over the deck as the crew goes about their daily business. It’s a relatively peaceful day—no marines, no sea kings, no sudden ambushes. Just the sound of waves and seagulls filling the air.

Which means it’s the perfect time for your captain, Monkey D. Luffy, to start handing out ridiculous orders.

Standing at the ship’s railing, Luffy puffs out his chest and grins wide “Alright, everyone, listen up!” he announces, hands on his hips.

Zoro, who is in the middle of his nap, cracks one eye open “What now?”

Luffy ignores him and points dramatically at you “Y/N! As your captain, I order you to give me a kiss!”

You blink “That’s… not how captain’s orders work.”

“It is now!” he declares.

The crew collectively sighs. This is nothing new.

Robin chuckles behind her book “He does have the authority, technically.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway “Fine...” Stepping forward, you place a quick peck on his cheek. Luffy beams like he just won a fight against an admiral.

“That’s the spirit!” He turns to Sanji next “Oi, Sanji! Captain’s orders! Make a cake for y/n!”

Sanji flicks his cigarette “You do realize I would’ve done that anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun if it’s an order.” Luffy snickers.

Sanji sighs but heads to the kitchen nonetheless “At least he has good taste in orders.”

Nami crosses her arms, smirking “Luffy, shouldn’t you be giving real orders?”

Luffy tilts his head “These are real orders!”

“No, I mean actual captain stuff! You know, navigating, battle strategies, anything remotely useful?”

Luffy gasps as if she just suggested something absurd “That sounds boring.”

Franky walks past, adjusting his sunglasses “Honestly, I kinda respect it. Most captains would be barking orders about ship maintenance, but this guy? Priorities.”

“EXACTLY!” Luffy shouts, fist-pumping “See, Franky gets it!”

Chopper giggles “So what other ‘important’ orders do you have, Captain?”

Luffy taps his chin in thought before his eyes light up “Brook! Captain’s orders! Play a song so y/n and I can dance!”

Brook laughs “Yohoho! Of course, Captain!” He grabs his violin and starts playing a lively tune.

Luffy immediately grabs your hands, spinning you around the deck. “C’mon, y/n! This is fun, right?”

You laugh, stumbling slightly as he twirls you “Okay, okay, but you’re supposed to let me lead sometimes!”

“Nope! Captain’s orders—I get to lead the dance!”

Zoro groans, rubbing his temple “I swear, this idiot is impossible.”

Usopp sighs, sitting on a barrel “I don’t know why we even act surprised anymore. Hey Zoro, wanna dance?”

The ridiculousness continues for the rest of the day.

At dinner, Luffy slams his hand on the table “Captain’s orders! Everyone eats dessert first!”

Nami glares at him “Luffy, you always eat dessert first since y/n told you it's their favourite”

“Yeah, but now it’s an order!” He grins before stuffing his face with cake.

Later, when you’re sitting at the bow of the ship enjoying the breeze, Luffy plops down beside you and rests his head on your lap. He looks up at you with that signature playful grin “Hey, y/n”

“Hm?”

“Captain’s orders.” He pokes your cheek “Be happy forever.”

Your heart melts a little at that one.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair “Aye aye, Captain.”

The days pass with Luffy continuing to abuse his “captain’s orders” for the silliest reasons. At this point, the crew has learned to just roll with it—or, in Zoro’s case, ignore it completely.

Today, the Sunny is gliding across calm waters, and the sun is blazing. Too hot to train, too hot to run around, and too hot to do anything productive. Everyone is lazing around in the shade, enjoying a rare, peaceful afternoon.

Then, Luffy stands up suddenly from where he’s been sprawled out on the deck “ALRIGHT, CREW! NEW CAPTAIN’S ORDERS!”

The reactions are immediate.

Zoro groans, rolling over onto his side to pretend he’s asleep. Nami rubs her temples like she already has a headache. Sanji exhales a long puff of smoke. Usopp leans back against the railing, looking mildly concerned.

You sit up from your spot beside him “What is it this time?”

Luffy points dramatically at the sky “It’s too hot. Captain’s orders—everyone in the water!”

Robin raises a brow over her book “That’s just called going for a swim, Luffy.”

“Yeah, but this way, it’s official,” he argues.

Franky grins “Well, can’t argue with that. LET’S GOOOO!” He cannonballs straight into the sea, sending a massive splash over the deck.

Brook laughs “Ah, I’d love to join, but I’ll drown!”

“Just float in a barrel or something!” Usopp suggests.

Chopper looks hesitant “I guess I could use a break…”

“I will not be getting my hair wet” Nami says firmly.

Sanji is already setting out towels “I’ll get drinks ready for when you guys get back.”

Luffy turns to you and grins “Y/N! Captain’s orders—you have to jump in with me!”

You shake your head with a laugh “Luffy, you can’t swim.”

“That’s why you’re coming with me!” Before you can argue, he grabs your hand and leaps off the ship, taking you down with him.

The water is a refreshing shock against your skin. When you surface, gasping, Luffy is already grinning like a fool “See? This is fun, right?”

You splash water at him “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.” He laughs, flailing his arms to stay afloat “Now hurry up, I’m gonna drown.”

You sigh but swim over, letting him cling to you like a koala.

“Oi, Luffy, stop abusing y/n as a flotation device” Usopp calls from the deck.

“It’s fine. Captain’s orders” Luffy replies smugly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You shake your head but smile, letting him hold on.

That night, after dinner, the crew is gathered on the deck under the stars. The sea is calm, and Brook is playing a gentle tune on his violin. It’s peaceful—until Luffy decides to disrupt it.

“Captain’s orders!” he suddenly announces “We’re having a cuddle pile!”

A collective groan echoes around the deck.

“No way in hell” Zoro says immediately.

Nami pinches the bridge of her nose “Luffy, not every order has to be something dumb.”

“Yes, it does” he insists. Then he turns to you with a grin “C’mon, y/n! Captain’s orders—you have to cuddle me!”

You sigh, already used to this, and pull him down beside you. He immediately wraps his arms around you like an octopus.

Robin chuckles “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in following this order.” She sits down beside Nami, and soon, Chopper is curling up between them.

Brook lies down on the deck “I have no body heat, but I’ll participate in spirit.”

Usopp grumbles, but even he leans against Franky.

Zoro, of course, remains at a distance with his arms crossed.

Luffy sighs happily, nuzzling into your shoulder “See? Best captain’s order ever.”

You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it” he repeats, grinning up at you.

You roll your eyes but kiss his forehead “Yeah, yeah. Captain’s orders.”

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glossdebut · 2 days ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 04

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER TAGS/WARNINGS: flashback in italics, the first chapter all in MC pov!, The Truce, yoongi is insane about pens and notebooks again, communication via lipliner and water, yijeong cameo, park jimin strikes fear into yoongi’s heart, tangerine hats and heart-pocket pants, seokjin is unhelpful, idk most of this chapter is a bit silly to be completely honest with y’all, stuff happens but i don't want to give too much away (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.8k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: i told y’all this was a slow burn... but happy valentine’s day! thank you to tanni @yooniivrse and K @ktownshizzle for beta reading this chapter (and K again for literally writing a whole line for me when i got stuck)

CH. 04: E-X-P-L-O-D-E

There are worse places to be, you think, than sitting across from Yoo Kihyun.

He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. Expensive clothes, perfect teeth, dark brown hair styled neatly away from his forehead. An endearing little divot at the curve of his sharp jawline. The kindest eyes you think you’ve ever seen.

The restaurant he’s picked is a bit hard to get into, a new trendy spot that’s had a line out the door every night since it opened. You’re honestly a little impressed that he managed to get a reservation. If the flush in his cheeks when you mention that is anything to go by, that was his intention.

You’re no good at first dates, but Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind carrying the conversation. He has plenty to talk about, riding high on his critically acclaimed debut. Well-earned acclaim, in your book—he has a beautiful voice, along with a charming personality that his growing fanbase is sure to love the more they get to know him.

You’re happy to listen, and even happier to keep the attention off of yourself for as long as you can. Kihyun’s relatively new to the industry, hasn’t been in the game for too long, and you’re starting to realize that the less he knows about you, the more you like him.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been in such an intimate setting with a man, and you’re surprised by how at ease you begin to feel as the night goes on. The tension in your body dissipates more and more with every sip of wine, every kind word. Kihyun hasn’t made any move to touch you, but by the time he pays the check, you’re starting to think you’d let him if he tried.

You wait together, side by side, for the valet to pull his car around. Maybe it’s the wine, but in a moment of bravery, you allow your fingers to slide between his tentatively. Your heart skips a beat when his hand squeezes yours, interlacing your fingers all the way.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Kihyun says, his voice soft. “I’m sure you get that all the time, being a model. But it’s true.”

His free hand comes up to brush your hair away from your face, and you turn to him. “It’s the first thing I noticed about you,” he adds.

It’s the first thing everyone notices about you now, with your new career path. More often than not, it’s the only thing people bother to notice, you think. You still haven’t learned how to respond to the compliments, not when you don’t even know how to feel about them.

You kiss him instead. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him to meet you. His lips firm against yours, frozen in surprise, before they yield into something softer. Tentative. Chaste. Gentle.

You were probably going to do it anyway. It feels better than saying ‘thank you’ when you’re not sure you’d really mean it.

★ ★ ★

A week has passed since you shook hands with the devil.

To his credit, Yoongi seems to be holding up his end of the deal—better than you are, even. It’s unsettling. You think you hate it.

It’s gone like this:

Day One

You wake up and choose violence.

The memory of Yoongi using your ex-boyfriend against you is still fresh in your brain, and you decide to say fuck the truce until he pays suitably. It’s only fair.

Yoongi doesn’t leave the house often, unless dragged, but the universe seems to be on your side today. He’s out of cigarettes! Praise be. Surely his absence, however brief, will give you enough time to exact your revenge.

You tiptoe down the stairs just in time to watch the back of his stupid head disappear as the front door closes behind him. As soon as the lock clicks, you’re springing into action.

Careful not to tip off his bandmates, you slink around the house, stuffing your cardigan pockets with every single Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pen you can get your sights on.

Maybe it’s childish, stealing all of Yoongi’s pens, but fuck it. What else do you know about him? What else is there to take? Pens will have to do.

By the time you’ve scanned each room in the house, twice, your pockets are overflowing. More pens create indentations in your stomach, stashed in the elastic of your leggings like a belt. Like a trophy.

Fifty-six pens are dumped into the bathroom sink. An absolute mental patient amount of pens for one person to have, you think as you separate them into groups of seven. You bundle them with hair ties, stuff them into your emptied makeup bag, and hide your crime in plain sight—the bathroom counter.

Then you wait.

The payoff isn’t immediate. Once he gets back, it takes an hour or so for Yoongi to start patting his pockets. A little longer for drawers to be rifled through, for couch cushions to be overturned. You just watch, confident that he won’t find anything.

By the end of the night, the house looks like it’s been ransacked by a crazed fan, and your makeup bag remains untouched.

Day Two

You have sightseeing plans with Jeongguk today, a visit to the aquarium where photos are sure to be taken. You’re just about to leave the bedroom and head downstairs to meet him when you notice a piece of paper at your feet.

When you pick it up, you’re faced with the scrawl of Yoongi’s handwriting, smudged in an eerily familiar shade of pink.

The name Yoo Kihyun will never come out of my mouth again if that’s what you want. Have mercy on my pens. They didn’t do anything wrong.

— The only person committed to this truce, apparently

P.S. Your lipliner is now a prisoner of war

You absolutely do not snort at Yoongi’s note. You don’t find him funny.

What is funny, however, is that when he swiped the lipliner from the bathroom you share with Jeongguk, he was less than three feet away from all fifty-six of his pens the whole time. Hilarious.

Later, when you’re watching a group of penguins waddle behind glass, you’re hit with a wave of genius.

“Jeongguk-ah.”

“Hm?”

“Can you give me Yoongi’s number? I don’t have it.”

Jeongguk seems more than happy to comply, instantly fishing his phone out from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Wow, you two are really getting along now, huh?” he asks, sounding more than pleased as he taps on his phone screen a few times.

“What can I say?” you hum, retrieving your own phone as it buzzes in your purse. “You were right. We have more in common than we thought.”

You open your camera app and hit record, zooming in on one of the penguins for a few seconds. It’s the first thing you send to Yoongi.

You: has anyone ever told you that you walk like this?

Day Three

Yoongi has a new pack of pens delivered to the house. You decide to let him keep them, since your message was clearly received. No response to your penguin text yet.

Day Four

Jeongguk needs to learn to read the room, you decide.

It’s late as fuck. You’ve been out all night with him, on another sightseeing trip—following him around, holding his hand, resting your head on his shoulder. Everything that’s expected of you.

By the time you make it to the bedroom, the mask of ‘fake girlfriend’ feels too tight, too heavy. All you really want is to climb into bed and go to sleep.

Instead, you’re wide awake, idly scrolling on your phone in bed while Jeongguk talks to his real girlfriend over the phone. With all the fucking lights on.

Despite how hard you try to tune them out, you catch every single word. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to even notice that you’re in the room with him, that you’re trying to sleep, too busy cooing sweet nothings over the line.

In this moment, you’re more aware of where you stand with Jeongguk than you’ve ever been. And for the first time since this whole charade began, you’re actually kind of grateful that you’re not really dating Jeongguk. As it turns out, Jeongguk in love is nauseating. Since you’re on your phone, you go ahead and tell Seokjin as much.

After toughing it out for nearly half an hour, you slip out of bed. You decide to go get yourself a glass of water or something, give Jeongguk time with his girlfriend. You’re sure he misses her.

You tiptoe to the door quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention than necessary to your presence or your departure. “Noona, I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Jeongguk whines, completely oblivious to you.

Aw hell nah.

You book it down the stairs as fast as humanly possible, so fast that you’re out of breath by the time you make it to the bottom.

The living room is dark when you pass through it. You think, for a moment, that you and Jeongguk might be the only ones still awake at this hour. As you get closer to the kitchen, though, the smell of fresh coffee floods your senses.

There’s only one person in this house insane enough to make coffee this late at night.

“Hey.”

The sound of your voice makes Yoongi freeze in his tracks, caught, but he shakes it off quickly.

“Hey,” he replies in kind, looking you over. “You’re up late.”

Something in his tone makes you pause, confused, until you look down at yourself and realize what he must be thinking. You’re in sleep shorts and a tank top, barely covered despite the chill outside, sneaking downstairs late at night. From the room that you share with your supposed boyfriend. Out of breath and shaken up.

He probably thinks you just had sex.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply stiffly. “Thought I’d get some water.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else, opting instead to stare at the coffee pot as it brews in front of him. Good. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking.

You grab a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it up at the sink. It hits you, as you take a sip, that you haven’t actually spoken to Yoongi since the truce began four days ago. Nothing beyond a note written in your lipliner and an unanswered text about penguins. You don’t know how to act around him now, unsure of how guarded you need to be.

Thankfully (you hope), he breaks the silence first.

“I’ll be out of your hair once this is done,” he says, gesturing towards the coffee. You can’t help but note that he still isn’t looking at you.

“Who drinks coffee this late, anyway?” It’s an attempt at a joke, something to cut through the awkwardness settling between you.

Right at that moment, the coffee pot beeps. Wordlessly, Yoongi fills his mug and shuffles past you like he’s in a hurry, hot coffee threatening to spill over.

“People with albums to write,” he mumbles once he reaches the doorway. Without another glance in your direction, he’s gone.

Day Five

Your day starts with a pounding in your head.

Despite both of you falling asleep around the same time (read: late as hell), the couch Jeongguk’s been sleeping on is desolate when you open your eyes.

He does that, you’ve noticed. No matter how late he stays up, he’s always up at the asscrack of dawn, going for a run or whatever it is he feels so compelled to do during the devil’s hours.

You roll out of bed around ten. You don’t have anything to do today, and judging by the quiet, it seems like you might have an empty house on your hands. It’s for the best, you think, because your skull feels like it’s about to pop.

Coffee, then. That should help.

Almost as soon as you cross the threshold from bedroom into the hallway, you’re intercepted by an extremely perturbed Yoongi.

“Okay, the pen thing was cute and all, but this is a little different,” he says. No hi, hello, how are you? Great. Your temples are throbbing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, making an attempt to push past him so you can get to the stairs, but Yoongi stops you with a hand on your elbow. Again with that shit.

“YN,” he huffs, unimpressed. “Just give it back. I know you have it.”

“Have what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you repeat, jerking your arm out of his grasp. “Will you stop fucking doing that, by the way?”

“My notebook,” Yoongi says, stepping in front of you again. “I can’t find it, and you stealing my shit seems to be a running theme this week.”

You blink at him, brows knitted together in confusion. His notebook? The fuck?

“What, you only had the one? But five dozen pens didn’t seem like overkill?”

“YN, I’m not fucking around,” he snaps. “There’s shit I need in there. Like all the songs for the album I’m here to write? An album I’d really like to finish as fast as possible.”

He doesn’t say the ‘so I can get away from you’ part, but he doesn’t really have to. His tone says enough.

That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t have his shit.

“Should’ve kept better track of it, I guess. I don’t know what to tell you.”

At this, Yoongi laughs, sharp and bitter. “You are fucking ridiculous, you know that? You’re the one who wanted this stupid truce. I was perfectly fine with the way we were operating before, but you came to me, practically begging me to play nice. What the fuck have I been doing?”

He’s looking at you like he expects an answer. You clench your fists at your sides. “Playing nice,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Better than you,” he adds, arms crossed over his chest. “I know you’re used to everyone letting you get away with whatever, but I’m not Kihyun, and I’m not Jeongguk. I don’t gain anything by letting you act like a brat.”

That makes you bristle. “Fuck you. I don’t have your stupid notebook, Yoongi. It may come as a shock to you, but I’m not interested in reading any more shitty lyrics about how much of a cunt you think I am.”

With that, you shove him out of your way once and for all. Blood rushes through your ears as you hurry down the stairs, almost running face-first into a wide-eyed Jimin in your haste.

Shit. You can only hope he didn’t hear any of that.

You run into Yoongi one more time, right before bed. Same as last night, you’re getting yourself a glass of water while he makes coffee. You move around each other in stony silence, both of you unwilling to acknowledge the other’s presence in the kitchen.

This time, though, you’re the one that leaves first. It feels a little like getting the last word.

Day Six

You spend the whole day in Teams meetings. You packed your schedule on purpose this time, disinterested in dealing with anyone that isn’t paid to kiss your ass.

You eat a power bar for lunch. At dinner, Jeongguk brings a plate upstairs for you. You claim that you’re too busy to come down, but really, you’re still licking your wounds after your run-in with Yoongi yesterday afternoon.

It seems stupid now, but you really thought things were getting a bit better between the two of you. Or, at least, you hoped so. You weren’t naive enough to think that Yoongi was starting to like you, but you did think that there was a mutual respect forming there.

Your mistake.

It’s late when you decide to venture downstairs. You’re restless, having spent the better part of an hour tossing and turning while Jeongguk snores from the other side of the room.

Late enough that you think, hope, that you’ll be able to avoid another run-in with Yoongi. Even if he’s still awake, there’s no way he’s making coffee at this hour. You held off for long enough.

When you reach the kitchen, you find that you’re half right. The coffee pot is nearly empty, but judging by the aroma, the pot wasn’t made all that long ago. Yoongi, however, is nowhere to be found.

On the kitchen counter sits a glass of water, and next to it, a scrap of paper. Blank, but unmistakably from Yoongi’s thought-to-be-missing notebook.

Huh. So he found it.

You take the glass upstairs with you, careful not to wake Jeongguk as you sneak back into the room. It’s only when you climb back into bed that your phone buzzes beside you. When you open it, you’re greeted by the sight of your still-unanswered penguin text, and a new message.

The Devil: 🏳️

Day Seven

When you venture into the living room in the morning, you’re surprised to find the whole band gathered around the seating area.

For the most part, the house has remained pretty quiet during the time you’ve been here. Today, though, it’s rowdy. You quickly find out why when you spot an unfamiliar fifth face—a handsome stranger with his arm slung around Yoongi’s shoulders.

A new bombshell has entered the villa.

The chattering stops as soon as you’re spotted. You don’t even get a chance to be properly introduced to the new houseguest before you’re intercepted by Jimin, who throws himself in front of you at the foot of the stairs.

“The inappropriately dressed goddess in silk shorts is Jeonggukie’s girlfriend, YN.”

“You may recognize her face from every Olive Young in Seoul,” Taehyung adds with amusement.

“YN, this is Yijeong.” Jimin turns around, pointing at you. You think you catch a twitch in his right eye. “Go get dressed. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Um… Okay,” you say, half-awake and confused.

Once you’re dressed less than half an hour later, you’re all piling into the van outside. The busy day, you find out, consists of a trip to the Little Prince citrus orchard—the trip that the band takes every time they’re in Jeju. You guess it was fast tracked due to Yijeong’s arrival.

In any other circumstance, you’d be thrilled at the prospect of spending your day picking tangerines, but the vibe seems off. Jimin looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin, and the glances you catch him sending Yoongi’s way chill you to the bone. You don’t know what Yoongi did to piss him off, but it seems like Jimin has officially cracked, and you don’t really want to get on his bad side by asking.

Still, you suck it up. There will be plenty of photo opportunities, you reason. Plus, the hallabong smoothie this place offers looks really fucking good.

Upon entry, you’re handed a small wicker basket and gloves for tangerine picking. At the very least, the weather is suitable for what Jimin has in store. It’s the kind of winter day that feels fresh and crisp, more than comfortable to walk around in as long as you have a jacket.

At first, the group breaks off into twos—Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi and Yijeong, you and Jeongguk. You’re not exactly mad about the pairing, considering it means you’ll get to take those pictures for Seoyeon to post on your Instagram. Jeongguk is more than willing to indulge you, immediately tugging you close and snapping a selca with his cheek smushed against yours.

As your basket fills, though, you end up rotating through the group. Taehyung, dressed all in warm tones, buys you one of those smoothies you’ve been eyeing. Jimin snickers at you as you spike it with the flask you’ve had stashed in your purse, stealing a sip. Even Yijeong makes a point to walk with you for a bit, re-introducing himself politely.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly earlier,” he says, sheepish. “It’s hard to get a word in with this group, sometimes.”

“So I’m learning,” you quip back easily, eyes scanning over the hanging hallabongs surrounding your path. “So, you’re here for the weekend, then?”

“Seems like it. Yoongi-yah called me down earlier this week. He wants a fresh pair of eyes for a song he’s working on.”

You scoff at that, unable to help yourself. “Like he doesn’t have three other pairs already?”

Yijeong gives you a sidelong glance, although it isn’t unkind. “He can be kind of secretive,” he explains, careful. “I think he just wanted the opinion of someone without a vested interest.”

You hum, unsure of how to respond. It makes sense, you guess.

“Am I wrong in assuming there’s a little bit of… tension there?” Yijeong continues. “Between you two.”

“We’re working on it,” you mumble, taking a much-needed sip of your smoothie. “Really. Chalk it up to incompatible personalities.”

“Ah.” Yijeong chuckles knowingly. “I get it. Yoongi-yah can be a little…”

“Bitchy?”

“Guarded,” he snorts. “But bitchy, too. I thought the same, when we first met. I was signed to the label about a year after Burn the Stage was. It took us a while to become as close as we are now.”

“You’re a musician?” you ask, interest piqued. You’ve never heard his name before, but granted, you don’t really keep track of that side of the industry anymore.

“Soloist,” Yijeong confirms, seemingly unoffended by your lack of recognition. “Producer, sometimes. I helped master their last album. I guess I impressed Yoongi, back then.”

“Teach me your ways,” you joke, earning another laugh from him.

“He’s not as hard to figure out as he likes to come off. It’s getting him to trust you, that's the hard part.”

Ah. Well. You’re kind of fucked in that department.

“Just give it time,” Yijeong says reassuringly. “If you’ve won the rest of them over, Yoongi will follow. He likes to play the part of the overprotective hyung, but he really is a nice guy when it comes down to it.”

“So I keep hearing. You two must be close, then.”

“Yoongi doesn’t have a lot of people to talk about his problems with. He’s way more interested in being a problem solver for others. But… everybody needs somebody.”

You grimace, stomach dropping at the thought of what kind of things Yoongi might have said about you, to this virtual stranger. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Yijeong.

“If it helps, he hasn’t had anything bad to say about you since I showed up,” he adds reassuringly.

“Meaning he hasn’t said anything about me at all?” you ask, hopeful.

“Mm. Well, he said you’re pretty… passionate,” Yijeong says, lips quirking up at the corners in a soft smile. “I’ve learned that’s a good thing, in Yoongi’s book.”

Or it’s code for crazy bitch. But hey, you’ll take what you can get.

“Sure,” you hum, glancing in Yoongi’s direction. He’s a little further ahead on the path, deep in conversation with Jimin. His face is as pale as the white flag he sent you. Uh oh. “We’ll see.”

As the two of you gain on Yoongi and Jimin, it seems like whatever confrontation that was being had is over with. Good, because you still don’t really want to know what that was about.

“You need the Vitamin C, hyung,” you overhear Jimin say as you and Yijeong approach. He bumps Yoongi’s shoulder conspiratorially. “I bought something for you.”

“What?” Yoongi narrows his eyes.

From behind his back, Jimin procures a hat—a fuzzy, bright orange tangerine hat, complete with a tiny green leaf on top. He looks thrilled.

Yoongi, however, does not.

“Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes.” Jimin is already shoving the hat onto Yoongi’s head before he can fight back, dodging his weak attempts to resist. “Cute,” he coos, stepping back to admire his work.

Yoongi glares, but to your amusement, doesn’t make any move to take it off.

Jimin, delighted, raises his phone. “Come on, let me get a picture—”

“No.”

“Just one! You’re already wearing the hat—”

“Park Jimin, do you want to die?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Jimin is full-on sprinting, chasing Yoongi around the orchard, phone camera wielded like a weapon. You can’t help but laugh. You’ve never seen Yoongi run, but just like his walk, there’s something penguin-esque there.

As Yoongi dashes past you, tangerine hat still firmly on his head, your gaze catches on something. His jeans—fitted just right, annoyingly so—have heart-shaped pockets.

You blink, looking away immediately. Definitely not something you needed to notice. Definitely not something you should be thinking about. But the image is burned into your mind, and unfortunately, Jimin notices the direction of your gaze and stops dead in his tracks.

“Wait,” he gasps, doubled over as he catches his breath. “Hyung, are those hearts on your back pockets?”

Shit.

Puzzled, Yoongi slows to a stop, frowning. “What? So what?”

Jimin, absolutely giddy, points. “Oh my god. Look at you, Mr. Soft and Romantic.”

“They’re just jeans,” Yoongi grumbles, but the slight pink at the tips of his ears says otherwise.

Jeongguk, watching the whole thing unfold, slides next to you where Yijeong had just stood. “You know, you’re going to give everyone the wrong idea, staring at Yoongi-hyung’s butt like that,” he murmurs, voice low so no one else can hear.

You shove him, hard, heat crawling up your neck despite yourself. “Yah, they’re cute jeans!” you hiss-whisper. “Maybe I want a pair for myself!”

He just grins, nudging your shoulder again. “Come on, pervert. We’re all going to dinner.”

★ ★ ★

When you make it back to the house, you can’t break off from the group fast enough. You don’t mean to be rude, but fuck. You need a minute to process the events of the day.

In an ideal world, said processing would be done with the assistance of your best friend. That’s what Yoongi and Yijeong do, right?

Once you make it inside the house, you make a beeline for the swing out back, phone already tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you slide the patio door open. It rings once, twice, before the call is declined altogether.

SuckJin: You’re joking right?

Right.

Too bad your best friend is a traitorous snake who prioritizes his medical career over being at your constant beck and call.

You: i need to talk to you!!!!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: Are you dying

You: no?????

SuckJin: Great

SuckJin: Nothing I can’t help with over text then

You: in case i don’t tell you enough, you are the fucking worst

You: just so you know

With a groan, you plop onto the swing, thumbs tapping wildly at your phone screen as you try your best to put words to what exactly you’re feeling right now. A task that proves impossible, since you’re not really sure yourself.

You: your worst mistake as my best friend is sitting idly by and allowing me to remain celibate since kihyun and i broke up. what’s happening right now is all your fault actually

You: because now that my JK-related feelings are waning i’m convinced i would fuck absolutely anyone in my current state. that HAS to be what’s going on because there is NO other explanation for my behavior these past few days

You: I CHECKED OUT MIN YOONGI’S ASS!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: LOL

SuckJin: How was it

Why does the universe hate you so? What could you have possibly done in your past life to deserve a best friend so devoid of empathy? You should’ve listened to your gut back in middle school, when it told you to steer clear of the weird, egotistical theatre kid with the bowl cut.

You: NOT the point you freak

SuckJin: What is in the air in Jeju lol

SuckJin: Maybe u two just need to bang it out

What the fuck!

You feel the heat flood your cheeks in an instant, indignantly typing what is sure to be a complete disembowelment of your best friend, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening stops you in your tracks.

It’s Yoongi. Of course it is.

Cigarettes in hand, he crosses the garden until he reaches the swing. Instead of joining you, though, he leans against one of the supports, holding the opened pack out to you in offering.

“No, thanks,” you cheep, stuffing your phone in the pocket of your sweatshirt as you will the flush in your cheeks to die. Seokjin deserves to be left on read for his crimes.

Yoongi shrugs, patting his pockets in search of a lighter. When he finds it, you watch the warm glow illuminate his face as he brings it to the end of his cigarette and inhales deeply.

You feel so far out of your depth here. It’s Yoongi’s house, Yoongi’s garden—even if you’ve staked your claim on this swing since the night you arrived, everything you’ve helped yourself to here belongs to him. Jeongguk included.

Yoongi is well within his rights to have a cigarette wherever he pleases. You just didn’t think he’d prefer to have one here, with you.

“You looked like you had fun today,” Yoongi says, the low hum of his voice effectively breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I did…” You shift positions on the swing restlessly, unfolding your legs and wincing as you stretch them out in front of you. “You looked like you had fun, too,” you offer.

“Mm.”

Talkative as ever, this guy. You guess it’s up to you to keep the conversation going.

“You looked goofy in that hat, though,” you add, your lips quirking up at the corners faster than you can stop it.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that. “Yeah? Maybe I should give it to you, then, dollface. You’re the model, after all.”

Dollface.

He keeps calling you that, doesn’t he? He called you that the first night you met. He must mean it as an insult, an implication that your looks are all you have going for you. That’s how it felt the first few times, at least.

Still, you can’t help but notice that this is the longest conversation you and Yoongi have had since your fight last week. You’re both being so shockingly peaceable, you can’t help but comment on it.

“So… I had fun, you had fun,” you mumble, lazily kicking your feet to push the swing back and forth. “Crazy concept that you and I can have fun in the presence of each other.”

“Crazy.”

“You can admit the truce was a good idea. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you were wrong.”

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow drag of his cigarette as he considers you. You shrink, pinned as his eyes scan over your face for so long it feels unbearable.

And then he’s moving, cigarette tumbling to the ground as his shoe stubs out the orange glow. Hands swiping ash off of denim. Your eyes track each movement against your will, until you shake yourself out of it and stare at your shoes instead.

“We’ll see.”

There’s the squeak of the sliding door, and then your only company is the smell of smoke and your phone buzzing in your pocket.

★ ★ ★

The finale to Yijeong’s impromptu weekend visit is a night of bar hopping. A night that ends at a local noraebang.

The room all of you inhabit is small but cozy, with plush seating surrounding a sleek table. Accent lighting on the walls glows neon, pulsing to the rhythm of the music. The large screen in the middle of the room is lit up with endless list of songs—some that you’re surprised to see in the repertoire.

Everyone picks off of a tray of drinks and snacks—crispy fries, fried chicken, soju shots, frothy beer—refueling after all of the alcohol you’ve downed tonight.

You’ve lost track of how many drinks you’ve had, but when Taehyung thrusts the microphone into your hands with a boxy grin, you don’t hesitate. It’s been a long time since you’ve been to a noraebang, but you can never go wrong with some Paramore.

The moment the opening chords of Ignorance blast through the speakers, something electric rushes through you. It’s instinct, really—the kind of song that demands to be sung like you mean it.

If I'm a bad person, you don't like me Well, I guess I'll make my own way It's a circle, a mean cycle I can't excite you anymore

Where's your gavel? Your jury? What's my offense this time? You're not a judge, but if you're gonna judge me Well, sentence me to another life

Like riding a fucking bike.

As soon as you open your mouth, Jimin and Taehyung immediately lose their minds, jumping onto the couch and headbanging along like he’s one of the fans at a concert for his own band. Jeongguk, beside him, stares in awe, boba eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them.

But it’s Yoongi you glance at between verses, though you’re not sure why. He’s leaning back against the couch, half-hidden in the dim lighting, watching. His expression is completely unreadable. You can’t look away.

This is the best thing that could have happened Any longer and I wouldn't have made it It's not a war, no, it's not a rapture I'm just a person, but you can't take it The same tricks that, that once fooled me They won't get you anywhere I'm not the same kid from your memory Well, now I can fend for myself

Don't wanna hear your sad songs I don't wanna feel your pain When you swear it's all my fault 'Cause you know we're not the same We're not the same Oh, we're not the same

By the time you hit the chorus, you’re all in—singing like you’ve got something to prove, like the song is a battle you refuse to lose.

It’s cathartic. It’s messy. It’s more fun than you’ve had in a long fucking time.

As the last note fades out, you’re fighting for breath, buzzing from the energy. The room erupts into cheers, and Jimin all but tackles you in excitement.

“Holy shit, YN,” he howls. “That was amazing. Again, again!”

Before you can protest, Jeongguk takes the mic from your hands and spins through the song queue. “Nah, it’s my turn,” he declares. “Does this thing have Linkin Park?”

When you manage to peel Jimin off of you, Yoongi’s gone.

You know that it shouldn’t bother you. You know that you should say good riddance, let him go do whatever is so important that he had to bolt like that. But for some reason completely beyond you, you just can’t.

Your feet start moving before your brain can catch up.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, but it falls on deaf ears anyway. Everybody is wasted, attention already diverted to queueing up the next song, and you slip out entirely unnoticed.

The alley behind the noraebang is dimly lit, the cool air hitting your skin like a slap. And there he is, leaning against the wall, cigarette between his lips. He notices you immediately, his gaze flickering to you in that lazy way of his.

“You left,” you say dumbly.

He lifts his cigarette in answer. “Need something?”

It’s a great question. Now that you’ve found him and you’re freezing your ass off, your lost sanity is quickly finding its way back to you. Why did you leave everybody inside to follow a person you hate?

“Just needed some air,” you lie, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Couldn’t breathe in there.”

Yoongi exhales slowly, smoke curling in the space between you, and you shift on your feet, shivering against the cold. If he notices, he doesn’t comment—just watches you with that unreadable expression, waiting.

You should go back inside. You should say something biting, roll your eyes, turn on your heel. But you don’t. Instead, you rub your hands along your arms, trying to warm yourself up, and Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“You’re shivering.”

Uh, yeah? It’s winter and you forgot your jacket inside. Of course you’re shivering.

“It’s freezing,” you mutter.

Yoongi sighs, long-suffering, then shrugs off his jacket. Before you can protest, he steps forward, draping it over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It smells like him—faint cologne and smoke, something a little sharp but not unpleasant.

You clutch at the lapels before you can stop yourself, blinking up at him. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, waving a hand dismissively as he leans back against the wall. “Just don’t make it weird.”

Right. Because this is totally normal behavior.

You huff, rolling your eyes, but the warmth is welcome, and you make no move to give the jacket back.

Yoongi glances at you sideways, smirking. “See? You do like it.”

Suddenly, the cold is forgotten. Like somehow, the cramped noraebang felt less stifling than standing here, out in the cold with Yoongi.

“Why’d you follow me out here, dollface?”

There it is again.

“You need to stop calling me that,” you snap, annoyed.

“Nah,” he hums. Your eyes are drawn to the orange glow as he flicks his cigarette, crushing embers into the ground with the toe of his boot. “I think you like that, too.”

What the fuck.

“I—”

“Answer the question,” he interrupts.

“Why did you leave?” you counter.

“Needed a smoke. Told you that already.”

It’s a solid alibi, but something in his tone tells you he’s not being completely honest. So, you pry.

“Left in a pretty big hurry, for a cigarette,” you goad.

Yoongi huffs, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his hair. “What do you want me to say? Clearly you have something in mind.”

All you do is glare at him in response. You’re out here, shivering to death instead of being inside with people that actually enjoy your company. The least he could do is not waste your time by being a fucking pussy.

It’s silent for a long moment, both of you waiting for the other to break. But then, Yoongi sighs.

“I didn’t know you could still sing like that,” he finally says, his voice a low murmur.

Wait.

“Still?” you ask, bewildered.

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth turns up in a lazy smirk. “What, you think I don’t know things about you? You should know better than that by now.”

“I was at your debut show,” he adds, his voice suddenly more earnest than you’ve ever heard it. “That voice was my first impression of you. Almost had me fooled.”

Infuriatingly, he doesn’t elaborate any further. “Fooled into what?” you ask, eyes narrowing. That wasn’t an attempt at a compliment, was it? There’s no way Min Yoongi is paying you a compliment right now.

“Into thinking you’re someone I might want to spend time with,” he replies, unwavering but still completely unclear.

You wish you could tell what he was thinking. What does he mean by that? That if you met under different circumstances…?

The tension is thick, suffocating. Your pulse thrums in your ears, drowning out everything else—the distant music, the buzz of electricity, the rational part of your brain telling you to walk away.

Yoongi just watches you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something different in his gaze now—something that makes your breath hitch. Eyes all pupil.

Against your will, your gaze drops to his lips. You wonder if he notices. You hope he doesn’t. Or maybe you hope he does.

You don’t know who moves first.

One second, you’re standing there, glaring at him in the cold; the next, his mouth is on yours, and you’re backing him into the wall. It’s messy, urgent—like neither of you expected this, but now that it’s happening, neither of you want to stop.

His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers curl into the front of his shirt. You’re dizzy, drunk off the way he kisses you, how he tastes like smoke and whiskey, how his tongue slips into your mouth like he owns it, the sensation of smooth metal on the roof of your mouth making you whimper.

And then—

Reality crashes back like a cold slap to the face.

You pull away, breathless, hands shaking as you take a stumbling step back.

“What the fuck,” you pant, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, like that’ll erase what just happened.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but he looks just as bewildered as you feel, his chest rising and falling just as fast as yours.

What the fuck. What the fuck did you just do?

Without another word, you turn on your heel and bolt, nearly tripping over yourself in your rush to get away. Your head is spinning, your heart hammering against your ribs and threatening to explode.

And Yoongi doesn’t make any move to stop you.

You leave everything. You don’t stop. You run, catch a cab, operating completely on instinct until suddenly, you’re in the bedroom, door shut behind you, hands pressed to your face like that’ll somehow ground you.

When you finally lower them, your lips are still tingling, Yoongi’s jacket still draped over your trembling shoulders.

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oxymoronictransfem · 1 day ago

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I saw this and I found it interesting, I do like the points made.

Edit: I misinterpreted this post initially, the post did mean to acknowledge how passing does still result in some forms of systemtic privilege. I still like my points here though so I'll leave it up.

A lot of people misunderstand what privilege can mean and I don't fault them for it, the narrative around privilege itself is pretty faulty.

The dictionary definition of privilege is “a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group,” which in part is correct though I think it doesn't properly highlight how prominent that immunity aspect really is.

People who pass as a privileged social position do experience their own struggles. Trust me, I'd know. It hurts to have my transfemininity or my indigeneity invalidated in my day to day life when they're meaningful parts of identity. Being told “you pass so well” is one of the most hurtful insults I hear for so many reasons. It also sucks and leaves me vulnerable to not receive as much support or community for those things.

As much as this is all true, what's also true is that there are certain degrees of violence I'm largely exempt from. I'm less likely to be targeted on the street for being a trans woman, I'm less likely to have anti-Indigeneity weaponized against me. My parents and the medical system don't recognize me as transfeminine. That's a privilege that exists at the same time as the difficult parts. They're privileges because I'm exempt from something, not because I've gained something.

Plus if part of the reason I'm marginalized is because I'm living in fear of being recognized as who I am, I have to think about the people who are immediately “clocked” that way.

In the case of white passing mixed people or straight passing queer people the same concept applies. There are certain forces they are definitively exempt from: mixed people with pale skin and straight hair are exempt from colourism and texturism. That's a privilege but it doesn't automatically mean they take up the same social position as their oppressor. Their positionality is complicated, it is precarious and it is a very difficult position to live. It comes with its own challenges and its own benefits, people like us deserve the space to voice our experiences but we should also be invested as much as possible in uplifting those who suffer the most from certain forms of marginalization.

Marginalization varies like that, it targets its victims differently. It isn't cut and dry for most people, they tend to inhabit diverse intersections of privilege and oppression where their designations put them in varied places. Everyone has systemic privileges even within their own forms of marginalization.

All of these things can exist at the same time.

I want to talk about the terms White, Straight and Cis passing privilage... And how they're kind of inaccurate to the average passing persons experience.

It is not a privilege to have to shove down, hide, or escape a part of your identity for your well being and safety. It is also not a privilege to have people ignore oart of your identity for their comfortability. The only privilege is when people know and respect your identity unfaulteringly.

Mixed folks who have lighter skin or straightened hair aren't experiencing privilege. They're experiencing white people projecting whiteness and erasing their color. That is hurtful and any advantages are quickly lost if you dare argue with them on how they see you. It's also lost if you stand up for fellow poc or the issues their community faces.

Bisexuals who are having either Straight and Gay people assign them heterosexual even though many preach "don't assume or force anyone to out themselves." It's not a privilege I imagine tl be told that you look straight when you aren't. I as a masc butch I don't feel validated being called straight why would a bisexual?? Also with the ammount of families who project their want for you to be with the opposite sex/gender even after you come out is a major fucking loss actually.

Being cis passing means shit comments, the risk of being outed and then hurt, and other queers projecting their belief there is a "gay look" on you to the point where they'll act like you're on cis peoples side for "following the binary too close."

Personally I think it should be called _____ passing safety or something similar?

Because that's the main reason people hide themselves to pass. And it's the reason they don't argue when someone assigns them and identity. Is because of fear of backlash, harm, or even the risk of death.

Idk it's not fully fleshed (So feel free to add your own thoughts on the matter) out but privilege implies gain, and none of those really gain youanything. Especially if it can be taken at. moments notice if they learn who you actually are.

#marginalization #marginalized dynamics #privilege #white passing #straight passing #cis passing #colorism #transgender #transfeminism #intersectionality #poc #bipoc #oppression #passing #theory

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seasidefallenangel · 2 days ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 good men die too, i'd rather be with you 𓆩♡𓆪

valentine's day headcanons ft; kanata yatonokami, tenn kujo, sunday, nagi seishiro

notes: fluff, bit suggestive in tenn's

༄ kanata yatonokami:

✣ it’d be a lie to say he’s ever held something so commercial as valentine’s day in high regard. all the overpriced stuff in stores and seeing an onslaught of affection in public made him roll his eyes at best and sick to his stomach at worst.

✣ even after dating you, he’s still not that big of a fan. honestly, he wasn’t even planning on doing much of anything but nayuta nearly crucified him for that idea.

✣ (nayuta thinks it’s a miracle kanata even has a partner with how unromantic he is.)

✣ gritting his teeth and bearing it, he takes you out to a more laid-back restaurant in hopes that you’ll like it. something on the high end scale would just be uncomfortable and out of place for him, but if you had really insisted he would do it for you.

✣ it’s so cute to see him obviously flustered yet trying to be on his best behavior for you. he’d normally tell you off for acting so smug and lovesick around him but he figures this is the one day he can let you get away with it.

⁀➷ “ugh, can you just… nevermind. don’t expect this all the time. you’re lucky i love you. no shit i said it outloud. you think i’d be doing all this if i didn’t?”

༄ tenn kujo:

✣ obviously trigger’s angel is able to woo his partner. what kind of idol would he be if he didn’t devote every piece of himself into satisfying you?

✣ as much as he’d love to take you out for the holiday, it’d just be too risky. sure he could wear a disguise but he feels as if that takes away from the intimacy of the holiday.

✣ so, the next best thing is to have a catered dinner at his house. how he got aya and kujo to leave is a mystery, but evidently it worked.

✣ everything about him is practiced and perfect, to the point where you tell him it’s okay to be a little more relaxed. it’s not that he’s trying to put up a front, it’s just that he’s so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

✣ at his core, tenn is a giver - to the point where he’d sacrifice his own wellbeing just to see your smile. there’s nothing he values more than making you happy, and it’s evident with every kiss he gives you, setting your heart ablaze as he takes you to his bedroom.

⁀➷ “i’m relieved everything went well. i wish i could’ve taken you on a traditional date, though. maybe sometime in the future? before we get married at least. … obviously i’m marrying you.”

༄ sunday:

✣ the (former) oak family head is no slouch. even if he’s never formally been in a relationship, he was raised right and knows how to treat you.

✣ granted, the astral express isn’t exactly the ideal location. he’d much prefer to wine and dine, giving you only the best the cosmos have to offer. unfortunately, he’s also kind of broke after the events of penacony and his defecting, so an in-house date it is.

✣ that doesn’t mean it’s any less special than a traditional night out ; in fact, he puts twice the amount of effort into it. from perfecting a meal filled with your favorite dishes, to paying march and stelle to pick up some drinks and gifts on one of their rest stops.

✣ that of course is then curbed by dan heng giving sunday the most distressed look he’s ever seen, because why would anyone trust those two with a task like that? dan heng then takes it upon himself to get the proper gifts instead of the caterpillar farm suggested by stelle.

✣ the upside to the express is that the view is second to none. throughout dinner, sunday’s wings are fluttering a mile a minute as he watches you admire the stars and swirling galaxies that pass by. he can’t be bothered to look out the window when the most ethereal view is sitting across from him.

⁀➷ “can you look at me once more, dearest? no, nothing’s wrong. i just want to imprint this into my memory. if you had told me even a year ago i’d have you in my arms, i’d have assumed it was a terrible joke. i’m simply grateful the aeon’s have led us together.”

༄ nagi seishiro:

✣ reo is easily the most stressed out person in this scenario. for as sweet and clingy nagi is towards you, that boy is romantically dense. he figures he can get you a candy bar and call it a day, and reo is on the urge of strangling him for even suggesting it.

✣ flowers! gifts! chocolate! jewelry! fancy dinner! reo is trying to hammer in some more ideas into nagi’s brain and nagi’s expression grows more and more bored with every word. he even insists that he knows his partner and all of that stuff would probably overwhelm you (and make you think nagi had been kidnapped and brainwashed.)

✣ they compromise in the end. reo uses some connections to have a chef prepare dinner at nagi’s apartment and nagi gets off his lazy ass to buy you some flowers and a box of chocolate. for all his whining about existing being a hassle, he does listen to you pretty intently. he knows you think roses on valentine’s day is a bit too cliche, so he opts to get you something like a mixed bouquet with ranunculuses, dailies, and lily of the valley’s.

✣ it’s sweet and very nagi. even in his own way, he’s able to show how much he adores you. you’re the only thing worth putting effort into in his eyes - all he demands is that you smother him in cuddles afterward.

⁀➷ “i told reo everything would be fine… why does he worry so much? i really like you, so i’m not gonna mess it up. everything is less annoying with you around. … did i say something weird?”

#blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #paralive x reader #kanata yatonokami x reader #idolish7 x reader #kujo tenn x reader #paradox live x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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onceinablueberrymoon · 2 days ago

Text

scavenger hunt | salesman (recruiter) x reporter!reader

scenario: shortly after the korean version of the games ended, reporter!reader assigned to report on the american edition of the games in los angeles. since you would only be gone for a month, you and the recruiter decided to continue your relationship long-distance. unfortunately, that month happened to be february, so you wouldn’t be together for valentine’s day. at least, that’s what you thought. setting: set after the events of season 1; reader and recruiter are dating!; for added context, you can read the previous two parts: special report and (cheers) to the future. word count: 1.4k warnings: pretty suggestive, but no actual smut; fem!reader; salesman is called recruiter here since that’s his official title; second person POV; no use of y/n notes: happy valentine’s day!! ♡ this was a request to write something romantic for valentine’s day with recruiter x reporter!reader. i hope i delivered! also writing salesman/recruiter fanfics has made me learn so much about classical music lmao. please enjoy! border by @enchanthings-a!

“According to the results of the fourth game, 18 players remain. The fourth game, Obstacle Course, will commence tomorrow at 10 a.m. PST. Be sure to place your bets beforehand. Thank you for watching. Good night.”

You flashed a smile towards the camera, and waited until you were clear. You shuffled your papers and put them in your purse. Checking the time on your phone, you noted that it was 6 p.m.

‘One hour to prepare,’ you thought as you gathered your belongings to leave.

You and the recruiter had been going steady for a couple months now. However, when you had been assigned to report on the American edition of the Games in Los Angeles, you knew you couldn’t pass on this opportunity. The Games were only for a month, you told yourself. So, you had been determined to make your relationship work long-distance, even if it meant losing sleep sometimes. You would call him in the morning before you went to the office, which was late at night for him in Korea. Despite the time difference, you had managed to make it work.

Now, you were racing to get home so you could call him for 7 p.m. your time, which was 12 p.m. the following day in Seoul. It was a special occasion: Valentine’s Day, and your first one together. You were disappointed you couldn’t be together physically, but you both planned to have a nice meal via video chat. You also bought candles with the intention of lighting some to make your background more romantic.

Hopping on the bus, you checked your phone for any messages from the recruiter. Nothing since last night, which wasn’t unusual for him. He wasn’t the most avid texter, but he would check in with you daily to make sure you were alright.

Once you got to your apartment, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You didn’t have much furniture since you were only here for a month, but you tried to make it somewhat cozy with various knicknacks scattered throughout the apartment.

Dropping your bag on the dining table, something caught your eye. A wicker basket containing three items: a bun, a lottery scratcher, and a small black box with a pink ribbon.

Your heart raced at the thought of someone breaking into your apartment. You curiously picked up the box and opened it, revealing a card inside.

Let’s play a game, my lovely reporter. There are five clues for you to find. Follow the rules. Clue 1: Bread or lottery? Only one.

You gasped, almost dropping the card.

The recruiter had been here.

Your mind raced, wondering how he could have gotten in and more importantly, where he was. Reading the card again, a sigh escaped your lips. You had to play his game first.

Knowing the recruiter’s deep hatred for gambling, you picked the bun up from the basket. That didn’t stop you from eyeing the lottery scratcher in the basket though. You felt something behind the bun’s packaging, and found another card attached.

Well done. Kitchen.

You walked over a few steps to the kitchen but didn’t see anything unusual at first glance. After opening a few cabinets, you found another box with a card inside.

Clue 2: Our soundtrack.

Confused, you wondered what that meant. Then, it clicked. You walked over to your record player, where a card was tucked under a vinyl record that had already been set.

Your favourite.

You placed the needle on the record and music started to play. The tune made you shiver instantly. Moonlight Sonata, a piece which the recruiter reserved solely for your sexual encounters, specifically the ones that involved Russian Roulette. While you wouldn’t say it was your favourite, you couldn’t deny that it triggered something deep within you.

As the song continued to play, you searched the card for any other hints and found another message on the back.

Clue 3: Go get dressed.

You blinked, confused. You were already dressed in your work outfit, and weren’t sure what clothes he wanted you to wear. Even so, you went into your bedroom and found a gorgeous silk dress spread out on the bed. You quickly put it on, marvelling at its smooth texture and how it felt against your skin. You slipped on the accompanying jacket so you weren’t cold. Inside one of the jacket pockets, you found another card.

Beautiful, as always. Go put on your favourite necklace.

You blushed, moving towards your wooden chest to find your jewellery box. On top of your favourite necklace, you found yet another card.

Clue 4: Go admire yourself in our favourite room.

‘Our favourite room?’ You wondered, racking your brain for ideas. You already searched the kitchen and main room, so you determined he must have meant the bathroom. It was only when you stepped in and noticed a briefcase on the shower floor that you realized why. You blushed, remembering the many, many times you had made love under the steamy fog of the showerhead in his apartment back in Seoul. You felt your face grow warm at the thought of his lips pressed against your neck.

Another card rested on top of the briefcase.

‘Won’derful. 01003. I trust you not to steal.

Using the code to open the briefcase, you found two ddakji tiles, a stack of won and a small note.

Blue or red? Only one.

You picked up the blue tile, knowing the recruiter’s preference for red. A note was stuck on the backside.

Clue 5: Remember, only one. Focus.

You were puzzled. ‘How is this a clue?’ You thought, checking all sides of the ddakji tile. This was the final clue. Finding nothing, you hesitated, your eyes locked on the red tile sitting in the briefcase. The temptation to take it was high.

‘But he said to only take one,’ you mused. Glancing back at the tile in your hand, you reread the message.

“Remember, only one… Focus?” You mumbled under your breath as if that would help you understand better. Then, you tried focusing on the words individually.

“Remember… Only… One… Focus…”

As if you had a sudden epiphany, you took the first letter from each of the four words.

“R, O, O, F… Roof?” Your eyes lit up. “Roof! He’s on the roof!”

You scrambled to stand up, the blue ddakji tile still in your hand as you went to get your keys and lock the front door behind you. As if on cue, the elevator doors opened and you pressed the button for the top floor of your apartment building.

Once you exited the elevator, you opened the door to the rooftop terrace. There you saw the recruiter, waiting patiently next to what looked like a picnic. You gasped at the candles surrounding the picnic blanket, as well as the assortment of foods he had prepared. He even got a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Just as you were about to start tearing up, he approached you and pulled you into a hug. You buried your face into his chest, trying your best not to cry. You could feel his chest vibrating as he laughed at your reaction.

You lifted your head to look into his eyes. “How did you..?”

“Recruitment is finished for now. The Frontman allowed me to take some time off.” He said casually. You hugged him tighter. He smirked, “Did you enjoy the game?” You nodded.

He whispered in your ear, “Did you follow the rules?” You nodded again. He tsked, nipping at your helix.

“Then what’s that?”

You looked down at your hand which still held the ddakji tile. You glanced back at him, confused.

He murmured, “I told you not to steal.”

Your eyes widened in realization. You stammered, “I-I didn’t… I thought you meant the money!”

The recruiter didn’t listen. He took the ddakji tile from your hand and turned to gesture to the picnic spread in front of you.

“I prepared all of this for you, and you couldn’t even play fair?” He pouted slightly. You furrowed your eyebrows and prepared to retort when his lips captured yours.

“Perhaps you could redeem yourself somehow.” His eyes sparkled.

“Oh, really?” You played along, smirking. “And how would I do that, exactly?”

He chuckled as he leaned in close to brush his lips once more against your ear.

“Let’s play a game.”

#the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader #the recruiter #the salesman #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game x reader #gong yoo x reader #reader insert #the recruiter squid game #the salesman squid game #the salesman x you #happy valentine's day

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malsmind · 1 day ago

Text

first tattoo

texts for context to this blurb

series link

warnings: tattoo needles

wc: 1.4k

english is not my first language!

after you and matt texted back and forth about you wanting to get a tattoo, you sat on your couch, thinking about if you should really do it. it was permanent, likely painful, and for scome reason just scared you. you couldn't explain to yourself why it seemed so bad, you had piercings after all, so it can't be THAT bad. seeing the tattoos on your bestfriends arm was so cool to you. you loved tattoos. the look of them, how amazing they looked on some people, and the creativity of the various art designs and meanings behind the art pieces that people engraved into their skin. so after sitting there for hours on end, scrolling trough pinterest and finding ideas to what you really wanted to see on yourself, you decided to finally make an appointment. a hip tattoo.

it was a bold decision. the typical pain level for a hip tattoo was at about a 7 out of 10. you googled that, even asked a few people you knew who also got hip tattoos done. you texted back and forth with your tattoo artist aswell. usually, for a first time tattoo, people wouldn't reccomend to do anything that's known to be quite painful, but at the end of the day, it was your call, and you really wanted it.

so here you were, sat in the passanger seat of matt's car, matt driving to the adress of the tattoo studio that you booked your appointment with. "you nervous?" matt asked you, his eyes staying on the road ahead of him. "kind of a dumb question to be honest" you huffed out a chuckle, growing more nervous with every mile you got closer to your destination. matt chuckled. he knew how bad you wanted a tattoo, but he also knew how scared you were of actually getting one done. he understood your fear and doubts, especially since the place you picked for your first wasn't going to be too nice. "you'll be fine. y'know, once you have one, you can't stop. you'll just keep getting more, trust me." matt tried to reassure you, thinking about his first tattoo and how he got many more after that. it is known to be addictive to some people, some of your friends told you that, telling you constantly about how they want another one after they had just gotten one done.

you neared your destination and your stomach started doing small flips, excitement mixed with nervousness making your palms sweaty. when the car came to a halt, parking right infront of the studio, you took a deep breath, stepping out of the car. the stress was overwhelming but your excitement kept you going, you were going to do this. you stepped inside, the smell of stencil and burnt incense hitting your nose, it was a comforting scent. the tattoo artist who was already waiting for your arrival held his hand out to you, giving you a warm smile, "y/n l/n?" you nodded, "nice to meet you. so we're doing your hip today, huh?" the tattoo artist asked you, gesturing for you to sit down on the black leather chair and you did, matt following behind you to stand by the chair. you had asked your tattoo artist if it was okay to bring along someone and he didn't mind. "yeah," you sighed, "i'm really nervous" the tattoo artist smiled, nodding, "most people are, you'll be fine. we can stop whenever you need to take a break. did you eat?" you nodded, "have you consumed alcohol or any other substances in the past twentyfour hours?" you shook your head no, watching the tattoo artist pull out the stencil sheet with your desgin that you chose. "alright. whenever you're ready. i'm gonna have you lay on your side, you can get comfortable, watch something if you need to, maybe take his hand and squeeze it." the tattoo artist suggested. you tugged your sweats down, keeping them on, hanging loosely around your knees. you laid down on your side, getting comfortable, taking the tattoo artists advice and holding your hand out to hold matt's. matt placed his hand in yours, giving you a reassuring look, his thumb rubbing over your hand in a comforting manner.

the tattoo artist started his preperation, shaving the spot on your hip where the stencil paper would be placed and your tattoo design applied. the transfer gel made you shiver a little, the cold smily feeling on your hip making you nervous, reminding you of what you were about to do. you watched the tattoo artist intently, a small, proud smile forming on your face. you were actually about to get a tattoo. matt saw your face and smiled aswell, thinking back to the countless of times you told him about how bad you want to get a tattoo done.

the tattoo artist placed the stencil paper on your hip, dabbing it lightly to get the stencil ink on your skin. he pulled it off carefully, "alright, you can get up and walk over to that mirror, see if it's good for you like that". you got up, walking towards the mirror and turning to the side to look at the design. "yep, that's perfect!" you were happy with the positioning, so you walked back over to the chair and laid down on it, taking matt's hand in yours again. the tattoo artest nodded, finishing up with his preperation, positioning himself by your hip with the tattoo gun in his hand. "you let me know if you need a break at any point, yeah?" you nodded, giving him an appreciative smile.

the sound of the tattoo gun buzzing, made you take a deep breath, mentally preparing for the constant sting of the needle going in and out of your skin. when the needle made contact with your hip, repeatadly poking in and out, tracing its first few lines, you sucked in a sharp breath, your face contorting in pain. you squeeyed matts hand, and he squeeyed back, rubbing his thumb over your hand soothingly as he watched the ink being tattooed into your skin.

it wasn't a big design, or anything complicated, just a few small finline stars. the tattoo artist asked you if you were okay to keep going after he finished the first star, you said yes. you had a hard time getting used to the sting as it spread trough your hip, aching in places the needle wasn't even getting close to. it fascinated you how that worked, how you could get a tattoo done on one spot and feel pain somewhere else too. it was painful, worse than any piercing you've ever gotten, but it was bareable. after the third star, you started getting used to the pain. it didn't fade away or hurt less, but your skin and body became used to the sting.

matt kept comforting you, letting you squeeze his hand whenever a fresh wave of pain washed over you, squeezing back and placing his other hand on your shoulder for comfort. you looked down at the tattoo artist doing his work, inking your chosen design into your hip. a wave of excitement washed over you when you caught a glimpse of the small stars on your hip, you definetly made the right decision. you were proud of yourself for finally growing the balls to get a tattoo done, matt was too.

when the last few touch ups were finished and the tattoo artist wiped the cleansing foam off, wrapping it in tattoo wrap, he spoke up, "alright, you're all done". you sat up, stretching a little from being laid down on your side for the past hour. you got up and walked over to the mirror, matt following you, looking at the finished tattoo on your hip trough the mirror like you did. "looks nice." he smiled, placing his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them up and down. you nodded, smiling ear to ear at the result. you loved it. "it looks amazing, thank you so much."

"of course," the tattoo artist smiled, getting up. "looking after it is easy, i'm sure you looked into it aswell. no swimming and no direct sun until it's healed, use tattoo soap once a day and moisturize it at least two times a day." the tattoo artist instructed. you nodded, following him over to the desk to pay and buy the tattoo butter and soap directly from him.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

after everything was paid and done, you and matt got in the car, driving to McDonald's to get some food. "see? wasn't that bad, right?" matt nudged you "oh no, it was. but one hundred percent worth it"

matt shook his head with a small laugh, looking over at you. "you did good, it looks amazing" you smiled at him, appreciative of his words and that he came along with you as a mental support. "sorry if i crushed your hand by the way" you laughed, nodding towards it. he scoffed, shaking his head. "yeah, honestly can't tell who was in more pain. you or me."

@grace-sturnz @rcklessheavn @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @chrissturniolossidebitch @sl4ttformattsturniolo @priscillaog @oopsiedaisydeer @sturnzzlovee @dollyvuu @xbahaaha @h3arts4nat @sturniolosymphony @powpowjinxlife @idkwhatthisis2009 @surprisecurlyfriess @izzylovesmatt @chrislittleslut @alyssa-sturn @canihavemattsturniolopls @lizzysmith110 @bells-sturn @2muchofaslvt @kaybug88 @sturniolohohoho

#𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 ☀️#𝒷𝓈𝒻!𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝓍 𝒷𝓈𝒻!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 🌀#𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #christopher owen sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader smut #matt sturniolo bot #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

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