#But I really do think that's more just from how he spent the majority of the show as a mystery

[slurmpinheimer]

from @cyber-harpie !! spit that shit homie!! I thought this deserved to be seen because it brings up a lot interesting points—and I do agree with this, though it got me thinking again. I would like to add a few things to my initial statement because analysis and talking about Kim is fun;

(WARNING: MAJOR KIM-RELATED YAPPAGE BELOW)

I’ve watched several play throughs where (especially at the beginning of the game/if they have low psyche) people aren’t sure of Kim, or even go so far as to call him annoying, a buzzkill, or an asshole. At first I found myself getting really defensive about this. Obviously not to the point that I made any hate comments or anything, that would be silly— But just in my head, automatically dismissing it because I love him and didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t imagine anyone disliking him, instead of thinking deeper and considering *why* people might come to these conclusions.

I believe the bits we get from Esprit and Empathy support my initial point that Harry is the perfect narrative device to meet Kim through. If I remember correctly, Kim was written specifically to find Harry funny, and Harry’s skills let us see that. and that’s IF you succeed the checks, or if you’re dedicated enough to save scum to see other possibilities/go through Fayde to see what other options might have held.

Like, before I learned about the end of the Homosexual Underground thought line, I certainly had my suspicions. I definitely thought Kim was at least queer-coded and headcanoned him as gay, but that thought trail is behind a legendary Composure check that I spent like 10 full minutes save-scumming. I had low motorics on my first run, and I only tried so hard because I had been spoiled and knew that it gave a thought called “Homosexual Underground” and needed to see where that led with my own eyes.

That’s just one example too—There’s several times that Kim Lore is behind hard checks (Ace’s High/Low, that tidbit about him smoking weed lol) or things he just refuses to elaborate on without specific circumstances. Plus there’s all the stuff that you can learn when you play a different quest line. I’ve had several people tell me that going through a fascist ends up with Kim actually being pretty open about things you don’t learn about in other questlines. I don’t even know all the details of that yet because I’ve been so busy doing the other quests and achievements that I haven’t finished a fascist run yet.

My thought process with all this is that without seeing Kim through the lens Harry, who works with him almost constantly for a week straight in a situation where deep and meaningful conversation is not just encouraged but *needed* to build a repertoire and ultimately solve the case—Not to mention the patience and care Kim treats Harry’s situation with—I can see how someone would look at Kim from the outside and find him to be… (anguish at typing out this word) …mid.

So yeah. On the surface level; Kim is a cop. He can be condescending and uptight, sometimes leading into lecturing people (something he himself admits). He plays his cards close to his chest, with both his moralist beliefs and even more so his sympathies for the rebellion—Which can make him look a bit like a fence sitter. He can be emotionally unavailable towards himself and others, making him hard to read and sometimes appear cold.

But past that, he is a beautifully crafted, deep character, and the perfect foil to the chaos that is Harry. He is the man that reaches out to shake your hand even though you ghosted him two days prior. He will pat you and give you a handkerchief when you throw up. He can be the man that sticks up for you time and time again, not just because he needs to in order to solve the case, but because if you really try, he believes you’re a good detective at heart. Past suicidal rants and nervous breakdowns, he encourages you to keep going.

He has been beaten down, ground and polished to a smooth finish by mutiple facets of oppression—from his glasses, to his race, his sexuality, all fundamental parts of himself that he cannot change. From years of working in a high-pressure, volatile work environment with low pay and little benefits other than the small satisfaction of completing a case, only to dive headfirst into the next one.

He pushed aside his lofty dreams of the skies to be down with the rest of us in the dirt and mud, trudging, struggling through life until we all inevitably burn away the fuel reserves and are nothing but smoke, a memory in the mind of fire.

Beyond that carefully constructed exterior, past his wall of professionalism (and habit of using his notebook as a shield) hides a goofy nerd, a lover of crosswords and cars, of silly radio stations, and a deep appreciation for beautifully bearded muscular men. He is an expert user of sarcasm and master of cryptic jokes, some even philosophical or political in nature. At his core, he wants to make things better for the people around him. He wants to believe he can make a difference, no matter how long it takes or how small the change is. Even if working for the RCM destroys him before he can see it come to fruition.

He is wonderful. He is amazing. He’s probably my favorite character all of fiction, and I don’t think there will ever be a day in my life that I stop loving him. That’s pookie you’re talking about. I’ll always have space in my heart for him.

He will live on as long as we do, as real as The Man From Hjemdall is to Roy because Disco Elysium *made* him real, handcrafting him, giving him life between margins and pixels. And that is worth everything.

Kim Kitsuragi is a fascinating character because there's not that much fun or interesting or compelling about him. And yet somehow over the course of playing Disco Elysium the game rewires your fucking brain around him. He's the middest man you've ever seen in both appearance and personality but at some point he says something kind to you or something critical of you and you feel like you just got hit by a truck and you need his approval like you need oxygen and like how tf did this happen. what are you

[quibbs126]

Okay, I think I’m FINALLY done with these designs. Well okay, I said Megatron might need some reworking, but shush, I’ll do that another time

I was not expecting this to take as long as it did. Apparently I started making this at 9 in the morning, and it is now 9:30 at night. Optimus, I am almost certain this is your fault

Anyways, as mentioned prior, the idea here was to give the Earthspark Cybertronians protoform designs like the Terrans, what they might look like when they were in this stage, because I haven’t seen anything to claim Cybertronians in this series don’t also have this stage, unless I’m wrong

I mean theoretically, Cybertronian protoforms could look entirely different from Terran protoforms, but we don’t know at this juncture, so I used the Terrans as my main references

Pretty much the main thing was trying to turn their blocky features smooth, while also taking out a bunch of their little details, like their antenna and horns

Honestly I still think Elita turned out the best, which is maybe a bit sad considering she was the first one I finished, but oh well. I don’t think everyone else was horrible, but I think she just looks best

I think Bee’s design is fine, and it was honestly refreshing after struggling so much with Optimus, but I can’t help but feel like his eyes are still wonky

Like I’ve said, by the end of things I think Megatron came out the worst. He was the second one I did, so I wasn’t sure, but by now I think he is. The real struggle with him is that his entire helmet is comprised of angles, when I need curves. And then there’s his side things, which I still do not know how to translate here. The idea I was trying to go for here is the top half goes around his head, while the bottom half is attached at the ends, but it’s the bottom half that looks weird. But ah well, hopefully I can fix it later

And then there’s Optimus. The majority of the time I’ve spent on this was him. It was mostly the struggle of his vents and trying to make them un-blocky. It was getting really frustrating particularly because I couldn’t think of anything new to do with them to change them, drawing the same thing over and over

But then I remembered, this Optimus was once Orion Pax, a fact I was planning to omit. But that meant I had something else to draw on

And it’s what finally got my brain to make his side things into the curves you see now. It’s also why his middle thing is solid black, like how it seems to be in the picture above

But yeah, I wouldn’t rate his design as the absolute best, but it’s serviceable and I’ll take what I can get

But aside from trying to change their designs, I think I had fun. I noticed by the end of it that they all have different face and eye shapes, and that’s pretty fun

Speaking of which, I notice with this how small Optimus’ eyes are here. They may not look it in my drawing but they’re a lot smaller than the others in the show. Is that one of the reasons his design looks so off? Like I know it looks weird, I just can’t place how exactly

But yeah, take these designs, the culmination of my drawing abilities for the day. I’d like to do more with them, I just don’t know what. Best I can think of is like, a fic premise where the Cybertronians somehow get reverted back to these protoform stages, and the Terrans now have to help them out

[weebsinstash]

I haven't posted about it in ages but I still think CONSTANTLY about a soulmate scenario between a reluctant Reader and a yandere Lex Luthor because... he's just such an intelligent and powerful man that, like girlypop, he could genuinely make or break your entire fucking life in a laundry list of ways

Things like... in the very very very beginning, when you've met him and he knows you're soulmates but you're still putting him off and rejecting him, you see something on TV about, politicians are proposing a bill where a soulmate can make legal and medical decisions for their bonded if that person is unable to make those decisions themselves, some bill named after some random metropolis citizen where their soulmate lover died because the next of kin family they were estranged from were allowed to make medical decisions instead and their lover died, like it's something you would totally see on the news for real.

Then, months and months later after you're in a relationship with Lex, he's hosting a party and you see some of those very same politicians there, overhearing them thanking Lex for his contributions. Snapcut to a day you really REALLY do something to defy him, either you're rejecting him or trying to break up with him or trying to run away or, all of the above but also you do legitimately have some mental health issues, and here Lex is, now having the full legal power to say, "oh honey, now you have to go to the hospital :( why would you make me have to do this :(" and you get to go on your Super Duper Funtime Adventure to a private clinic he coincidentally has made some major financial donations to.

Genuinely I feel like I've mentioned this before but I feel like there's a real... personal horror in the idea of "my yandere took me to a doctor and that doctor diagnosed me with stuff and I have no idea if I genuinely have those disorders or if my yandere paid the doctor to say those things" because the twist is tasty in either direction??? Is your yandere delusional and trying to chalk up your rejections to extreme anxiety and other grasped straws and insists you be medicated so you can love them? Is your yandere just trying to legitimately help, and you actually genuinely did see a legitimate non biased doctor? Is your yandere actually totally just lying and they just want you to be more obedient and reliant on them, have doubts in yourself and trust them alone, letting them make decisions for you? It's all so good...and then not knowing would stress you out and make you paranoid even MORE...

but then I also think of like. How he could genuinely try to make gestures to win you over and things he could do that are positive. You two are just getting to know each other and you're extremely reluctant to do anything and, while internally he wants to do these quite grand little expenses for you, he's willing to analyze you and calculate a plan of making smaller gestures over time. At least, smaller in the scale that he's like one of the top richest and smartest creatures on his entire planet, and that's a planet with aliens and magical creatures on it, but, you know. He'll try and tone it down a little-

I've had this idea where like... he gives you this expensive bracelet or ring or necklace or watch, some sort of accesory, as a gift and, being the self loathing person that you are, you're out on the town one day and you walk into a higher end jewlery store because you feel like punishing yourself by trying to figure out how much money was spent on your gift, and, through whatever means, the store accuses you of theft (because you're just a dirty poor person, why would you have this nice thing unless you swiped it) and maybe they even have the audacity to technically assault you and take it off of your person

Somewhere on the other side of the world in a conference room, there's a hidden earpiece buzzing, "Mr Luthor we have a situation-" and he's on a private jet within the half-hour. He gets there and you've either been arrested and put in a cell or he gets there to find you getting manhandled by police because you're technically resisting arrest by panicking, "please just look at the footage, i didn't do anything wrong-" and he flies into a rage at the way you're being jerked and tugged and twisted until you're crying out that they're hurting you

Police department? Sued. That store? Sued. Bankrupted. Bought out. Bulldozed. It's a gentrified downtown sculpture garden now. Lex buys you another gift that's even nicer than the first since the first one has now been "tainted" with this bad memory, plus he's now indirectly (but, of course, with calculations) has made a very VERY public warning to anyone who would dare to harm you in any way whatsoever.

He's a very, "sweetie didn't you ask for no pickles? Should I have them killed for you? It wouldn't be any trouble at all-" kind of guy

Lex Luthor who catches wind of confidential news that a mysterious asteroid has crashed down on an island off the coast of Fake DC Country and he plans a research expedition to study its contents BUT ALSO that same day he's like "darling have you ever gotten to eat freshly caught crab before?" and suddenly you're jet-setting off to a tropical island, because what kind of evil supervillain future-husband would he be if he didn't turn his research expedition into potential alien activity into a bonus vacation with his pookie?

You're wandering the beaches or exploring the tide when you find this pretty little gemstone that may or may not turn out to be platinum Kryptonite that was brought to Earth by the meteorite and you're now the first organic creature that has touched it.

I like the idea of, you develop these powers and suddenly you have all these new potential problems but also possibilities? Sure you're suddenly under Batman and the government's radar, but, think of all the good you can do now that you can fly, have super strength invulnerability, the works? Meanwhile Lex is simultaneously fascinated, curious, proud, but also, wanting to research this, see if it can be replicated, exploited.

Part of me is like, would he be 500% against you going into danger or would at the very most try and harvest your blood or something, OR, now that he knows there's really not much danger to you, he's like "oh, you want to be a little superhero? Oh, how adorable sweetie, let me help design your costume-" and he's, hm, I dunno if it would be entirely incorrect to say he's lowkey using you like a tool in the sense of, you're testing things he develops, he's observing and researching your powers, he's getting to watch you "play and have fun" while also gaining new research data from you, and also making connections with powerful people. He may even... pull some strings to have you do something in his favor. "Oh darling what's wrong? Oh no, that facility you attacked because you got 'information' they were terrorists were actually innocent people and now that country has been seized by hostile powers that have coincidentally agreed to let my company mine lithium there? Oh nooooooo :( darling I'm so sorry, we all make mistakes, I still love you-" or he just like, makes more business deals because he receives, shall we say, secondhand clout from any and all of your accomplishments should you become a hero

Lest we forget, there's a version of Lex Luthor who once built a powerplant under a Metropolis neighborhood and made it deliberately look suspicious as fuck just because he wanted Superman to attack it and make a fool of himself and upset the public because "what the fuck superman why did you just ruin this totally helpful normal thing just because Lex Luthor made it, thanks dickhead". Luthor is incredibly calculating, driven, petty, and has deep deep pockets and plenty of resources for any possible fantasy he has, and also he's 1000% willing to crash out if it involves Superman WHICH IS ALSO WHY I think it would be incredibly hilarious if he's just BEYOND PISSED that you developing powers means you need mentorship from Superman and Lex is forced to watch the two of you have like.... Genuine Moments

You develop the ability to fly for the first time and you're just high up in air jerking around shrieking unable to control yourself and you have no idea what to do and while Lex is still trying to formulate a way to get you down, here comes Kal, able to fly up, gently grab you, hold you in place as he talks you down, teaches you how to float, holding your hands and speaking so softly and kindly as he teaches you how to descend and the two of you sloooooooowly dip down until your feet are on the ground again

Cut to Lex being absolutely furious because not only did he "have that handled" but why is Superman feeling so emboldened to place his hands on yours, on your shoulders, giving you a comforting hug when you burst into tears about how scared you were and thanking him for saving you? You and Superman are like tenderly platonicly hugging and there's reporters and a little crowd nearby doing the whole "Awwww 🥺❤️" and meanwhile Lex is over here turning red as a tomato just absolutely steaming 'ugh I can't believe Superman showed up I hate him I hate him I hate him L + ratio + you're a loser I hate you die die die die'

Kal opens his mouth and offers to be your teacher and here's Lex trying to be a big man, storming up all but bumping chests with the guy, "➡️I⬅️ can help take care of my own mate, Superman 😡" meanwhile you're standing there ACTUALLY EMBARRASSED BY LEX, like can you even imagine the levels of "open wound, insert salt" of Lex puffing up against Superman because he's fucking jealous and then you're like "omg Lex you can't be mean to Superman! He just helped me!! Apologize, what the fuck?!" and you're clearly like, a fan or a person who looks up to the boy in blue and said boyscout may even brush a lil bit bc, you know, his mama did try to raise a kind honest man and, he sure is happy his efforts are appreciated-

Have I mentioned I see Lex Luthor having an eidetic memory, as in the condition where you never forget anything, which I think would make him really terrifying to deal with, actually. He'll literally be able to study and memorize every single thing about you, everything he notices, everything you say, do, all your little behaviors, quirks, habits, addictions, and it'd also make him a monster during arguments because what are you gonna do, tell the supergenius he's misremembering? Dude is over here inventing robots like Amazo and curing cancer AND he can never forget? Why not just fucking lobotomize me since you wanna make me feel so dumb-

[kbookblurbs]

Wind and Truth - Brandon Sanderson (Stormlight Archive #5)

4/5 - midseason-finale ass book; he needs to scrap this editor; this book simply never ends

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!! LIKE FIRST LINE!!!

We finally come to the end of the first arc of the Stormlight Archives and they are going to need a new name. Before we dive in, I want to clarify that I did enjoy this book! I think it tackled a series of very hard-to-conclude plotlines in a relatively good way, and I think it sets Sanderson up for success in the latter half of this series. With that said, I'll be splitting this review into four parts:

Kaladin, Szeth, & therapy speak

The Spiritual Realm plot

Azir

Book mechanics

Kaladin, Szeth, & Therapy Speak

Now first of all, anyone who's read anything I've written knows I love Kaladin - he's one of my favorite characters of all time and his journey through depression is one of my favorite parts of this series. That said. I find the whole timeline of this healing to be highly suspect, and his attempts at therapizing embarrassing at best and deeply annoying at worst. What context is there for him to go from literally attempting suicide in the last book to semi-competent therapist in no time at all? Need I remind Sanderson myself that there is no time skip between the end of RoW and WaT?

The language is also just bafflingly modern in a way that nothing in this series has been before, but we'll get to more on that later.

The flip side of this criticism is that Szeth's plotline was easily my favorite of the book. His completed arc might rise to rivaling Kaladin's (thus far) in terms of how much I enjoyed it. His backstory is so tragic (slay for the almost successful military coup though?) and I truly believed he wasn't going to make it through the book until the very last page. His moments with his father, in the past and present, brought me to tears more than once.

The Spiritual Realm Plot

This whole plotline took too long and frankly, it was boring. Watching Shallan slay her demons for the umpteenth time and deal with Formless again and kill her mother again was, and this may be controversial, not a very interesting plot point to me. She's done all this before. I feel that this book, as a whole, gave diminishing returns on her pagetime to character development ratio. I also don't feel that Shallan, with all her everything else, needed a Herald as a mother as another twist, but maybe that will be more relevant in the future. For that reason, and that reason only, I'll bite my tongue on criticizing it unnecessarily

While it was nice to see Renarin and Rlain get together, I have to admit that Renarin's POV didn't add much for me. I think Sanderson could have written the entire plotline for these two from Rlain's perspective and it would've been far more interesting since he is, in my opinion, the more interesting character between the two of them. Renarin's POV does not reveal anything that isn't already clear from other POVs.

I also just wanted more of Ba-Ado-Mishram. She was haunting the story but not present. I understand that's likely for later plot reasons, but it did make this section drag. Dalinar contributed to that but  we don't have time to get into that right now. I was happy he died though (long overdue, in my opinion).

Azir

Adolin #1 character of all time? The only one to save their assigned city and did it with 0 Radiants and the power of friendships? Nobody is doing it like him.

I loved the founding of the Unoathed and, particularly, Yanagawn's development. I'm really hoping that Yanagawn becomes a more important character in next major arc, since he was so sweet here.

I did not love that we spent probably 25% of the book in Azir fighting battles. Contrary to the opinion of Sanderson many fantasy authors, there is an upper limit on how many battles you can include before I get tired of reading them. There's only so many ways you can swing a sword or block a pike etc etc before I'm bored.

Book Mechanics

Overall, I find this concluding book to be much weaker than the other 4 in the series. Whereas it had seemed that the pacing was improving in Oathbreaker and Rhythm of War, here we were back to all over the place. While I liked that he split the plot into each day leading up to the contest, the timeline genuinely made no sense.

Beyond that, this entire book was filled with oddly YA-style prose that has never appeared in the Stormlight Archive until now. I think whoever edited this book must be different from the other four because, in my opinion, it was much too modern, not as tight, and frankly, not as good. And I know this might be controversial, but I did not think Maya calling Adolin a slut was funny. Why would she even use that word? Whore or prostitute would've been acceptable because they've been referenced here before but I found that example and others like it to be jarring.

Conclusion

I liked this book, but it's by a longshot my least favorite in the series. It was too long and frankly, some of the characters didn't even sound like themselves. I know that Sanderson can do better than this, but it leaves me a little wary for the next arc.

There's lots here I didn't cover (Jasnah my beloved, Sigzil! I'm in mourning) but this was already quite long. DMs / ask box are always open if you'd like to chat more.

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I don’t think about Ford as much as the other Pineses, and I genuinely can’t imagine why outside of him simply being in the show less than them. He’s so great and autistic and a huge dork, I cannot understand why he hasn’t clicked with me mentally as much as the other family members.

[yikes-ajax-thats-sad]

People really think trust issues are just "aww they're scared of love" and it's like bitch no. Trust issues as in I'm deeply in love and the issue is I'm waiting for you break my heart after undergoing periodic abuse in relationships. I'm not scared of love I'm scared of what you'll do with it.

[celiababy]

Ain't Right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide

Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.

Ain't Right part 2

Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.

Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.

When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.

Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.

And you certainly were not one of those select people.

Joel didn't know what to think about you.

To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.

He felt this way because he knew.

Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.

He didn't like the thought of you liking him.

You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.

He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.

He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.

"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.

So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.

You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.

You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.

"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.

"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.

"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.

He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.

"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.

Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.

"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"

Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.

Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.

He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.

He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.

"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.

You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***

The trip is a complete bust.

Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.

You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.

But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.

You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.

But you do anyways.

You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.

You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.

You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.

"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.

"Why not?"

A beat.

"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.

"Why won't you fuck me?"

Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.

"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.

Completely disregarding his words, you start.

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"

Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.

"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.

You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.

"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"

You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."

"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."

You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.

He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

That urges you to say more.

"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."

Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.

Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.

But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.

"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.

He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.

Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.

You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.

Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.

He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.

Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.

"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."

***

Nobody had seen you in days.

The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.

No one has ever denied you—ever.

The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.

Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.

But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.

He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.

Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.

He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.

He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.

He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"

He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.

His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.

It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.

"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.

He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.

"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.

You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.

You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.

Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.

"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"

His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.

An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.

"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.

He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.

"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.

"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."

Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.

There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.

“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.

“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.

You probably have.

After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.

The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.

Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?

You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.

“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.

But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.

You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.

You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.

Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.

Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.

Fuck.

He was fucked this time.

He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.

He’s really gone soft.

***

When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.

You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.

You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.

Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.

He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.

"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.

You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.

He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.

Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.

“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.

“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”

His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.

You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.

“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.

You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.

You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.

You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.

You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.

Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.

In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.

The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.

Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.

“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”

You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.

His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.

Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.

A beat of silence falls over the both of you.

You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.

“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.

You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”

“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.

He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.

He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.

You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.

Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.

He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”

You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.

Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.

Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”

“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.

You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”

“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"

Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.

Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.

"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.

However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.

Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.

"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.

Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.

But then he paused.

Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.

If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.

He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.

(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)

There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.

Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.

His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.

Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.

Time is moving in slow motion.

You can't believe it's finally happening.

He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.

"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.

You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.

With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.

"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.

Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.

"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.

Of course, you're not wearing a bra.

Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.

He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.

You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.

Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".

Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.

He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.

A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.

"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.

"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.

"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.

You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.

"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.

You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.

Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.

Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.

Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.

You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.

Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.

He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.

In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.

"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.

Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.

Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.

"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.

You feel victorious.

He's finally given in to you.

Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.

"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.

He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.

“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.

He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.

He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.

He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.

He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.

You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.

It’s better than you imagined, perfect.

“I don’t have a—”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.

Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.

“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.

Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”

Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.

He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.

He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.

You freeze.

Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.

He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.

Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.

He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.

“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.

Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”

Ah fuck.

Joel finds you so charming it hurts.

After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.

“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”

You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.

He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”

Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.

He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.

But you’re taking it like a champ.

Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.

The sensation is absolutely delicious.

A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.

“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.

Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.

“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.

You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.

But then it hits you.

“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.

Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.

In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.

Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.

“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.

“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.

Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.

He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.

Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.

Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.

You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.

Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow

Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.

"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.

You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.

Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.

"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.

He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.

You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.

The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.

Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.

Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.

It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.

"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.

You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.

When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.

"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.

You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.

"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.

It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

In a staggering turn of events, you come first.

Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.

You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!

Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.

God he was so beautiful.

His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.

When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.

Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?

"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.

He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.

He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.

You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.

And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.

There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.

"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"

You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.

"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.

Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.

"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.

He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"

You're kidding. But you're also not at all.

Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.

You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.

"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.

He couldn't believe the youth these days.

[m1dn1ght-r0t]

Eyes Wrapped in Wool

Yandere! (ex) husband x amnesiac! fem reader

TW: manipulation, toxic/abusive behavior, mentions of (potential) forced imprisonment, coercion A/N: pretty sure amnesia doesn't work this way (i'm no medical professional) but pls suspend disbelief for the sake of the plot ahahah

Your husband never expected things to turn out this way. But by some stroke of luck—or perhaps divine intervention—you ended up bed-ridden in the ICU, suffering from multiple bone fractures and a terrible, oh-so-terrible, traumatic brain injury. Just last week you were talking his ear off about how you've had enough. How you were done with him controlling what you could wear or who you could see, his suffocating clinginess that devolved into explosive rages when you spent time focusing on work or with friends instead of with him, the negging, the snooping, the smashed plates... Jesus Christ. You just never knew when to shut the fuck up, did you? At some point he had stopped listening. Chalked off your dramatic tirade as nothing more than you acting up because of your period—merely white noise. How many times have you guys had this same broken record conversation? Yeah, he knew this marriage wasn't smooth-sailing. If it were, you'd be less opinionated, less bitchy, more pliant, more dutiful. But what relationship was ever perfect? So, he waited for you to run out of steam, as you inevitably do, before adding salt to the wound:

“You know baby, if you weren’t parading around in those slutty clothes of yours and acted your grown age for once, I wouldn’t be behaving that way.”

The scrunch of disbelief mixed with disgust on your face only spurred him to double down. “And maybe if you actually committed to this marriage like a devoted wife would, rather than prioritize your career and practically everyone over me—your husband, need I remind you—then we wouldn’t be having these issues. Ever considered that, hm?” He purposely dragged out his words, a patronizing lilt to his tone, in hopes of reminding that thick, dumb skull of yours that he always knew best.

It wasn't until you had thrusted the divorce papers in his face that he grew silent, the severity of the situation beginning to creep in. ...What? You couldn't actually be serious... right? This was just some lover's spat. A temporary blip that'd be smoothed over with a few intentionally placed saccharine words and hot make-up sex. Like always. So why the fucking theatrics? Are you really gonna be a bitch about this and d— When you slammed the front door shut with your packed bags in tow, leaving him to stew in your parting words—that you deserved better, so much better than him, and that if he didn't sign the papers, he'd be hearing from your lawyer—did the gravity of it all finally sink in. By the end of the week, your voicemail was battered by his countless furious messages. Are you done being a flighty little piece of shit, huh? What the fuck do you think you're doing? I swear to god, baby, I'm gonna drag your ass back here. And if I have to lock you in some basement and chain your hands and legs so you'd never think to leave me again, then so fucking be it. Divorce? Yeah right. Over my dead fucking body. Then came an unknown call. It was like whiplash, really, to first hear that you had been involved in a major car crash, and then, upon rushing to the hospital at neck-breaking speed— "I'm afraid she has retrograde amnesia", the doctor solemnly informed him. He could cry. Oh, he could fucking cry.

On the outside, anyone could see how distraught he was, his hands trembling as he processed the diagnosis, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Poor husband that he was, having almost lost his beloved wife in a freak accident, he now had to deal with the news that she didn't remember who he was. Inside, however, raged a war he couldn't reconcile: what was harder? Holding back the tears, or pretending those very tears were out of sadness rather than pure, unbridled joy? Because what this neatly packaged situation had presented him with was a do-over, a chance to mend the broken marriage teetering on the cusp of divorce. And like hell he's about to let you throw away a three-year connection like some ungrateful cunt when he loves you so, very much.

~

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

As he walks up beside your hospital bed, he can't help but revel at how vulnerable you look. The slight furrow in your brows hinting at your confusion, the way you curl in on yourself as if to protect yourself from who is no doubt a complete stranger in your eyes, and your meek "Who are you?"—a far cry from the usual feisty, snarky attitude you used to dish out.

But perhaps most rewarding of all is the tentative gaze you offer him, eyes filled with a sort of curious glimmer, free from the hostility, disappointment, and hurt you'd flashed his way. You didn't look at him with hate. You simply want to know who he is.

Oh, aren't you precious? He'll gladly feed you his carefully spun narrative until you're full of nothing but adoring love for him—the embers of your thoughts about divorce and leaving him snuffed out for good.

"I know how confusing all of this must be for you. Take all the time you need. I'll be right here with you, as your husband, helping you fill the gaps, okay baby?" He delivers this with as much patience as he can muster, softening the edges of his words to avoid spooking you. But you're not soothed. If anything, you're more overwhelmed than ever. "M-my husband?" You echo, tasting the foreign word, sticky like warm toffee on your tongue.

"And...and my family? Where are they?" Your disorientation is a sight for sore eyes; how badly he wants to devour you right now. “Dead,” he intones, a script he’d been desperate to act out ever since you said your vows. The jarring news pulls a barely audible whimper from you, your eyes widening a fraction.

Shit. Too cold. Too careless.

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in a facsimile of sorrow as he injects a note of pity into his voice. “They died when you were very young, you see. I’m sorry.” He’s really not.

"What…? How could that be? So my p-parents, they're both—" Your breath hitches, tears welling at the corner of your eyes.

At that, he gently grabs your bandaged arm, wanting to comfort you. But when you flinch slightly, he has to resist the urge to snap at you—Oh, cry me a river. Who the fuck cares?? I'm right here, aren't I? I'm right here, damnnit, so look at me!

Instead, he tempers the resentment that's still fresh in his heart after the divorce stunt you'd pulled by reminding himself that he's supposed to be your kind and gentle partner.

So he settles for cradling your hand in both of his like it's fine china, grazing his lips over your fingertips. "But you have me, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere."

He half expects you to question his story—it wasn’t very convincing, even to his own ears—prepared to be barraged by your endless streams of “No, you’re wrong!”, “I don’t believe you!” or some other similar outburst.

But when all you do is gaze up at him with cinched brows, seeking reassurance, blinking at him so sweetly with your hand still snugly warmed in his, he pauses. That’s it? No suspicion, no skepticism, no outburst? Hah! He has to physically restrain himself from snorting because how fucking easy can this get?

Maybe the collision had completely scrambled your brains, rewired you to be more stupid, a little slower—exactly how he likes you.

"You trust me, right?"

And when he feels that subtle twitch of your fingers—what he gathers is your attempt at squeezing his hand back for confirmation—accompanied by the sight of your small, almost shy nod, he breaks out into a giddy smile at how utterly adorable you’re being.

Fuck, it’s hard not to already feel high off these micro-doses of innocence and receptiveness from you. Emboldened by your intoxicatingly sweet naivety, he dares to be a little greedier, creeping to perch on the edge of your bed, his hand now moving to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how worried sick I was when I got the call. I thought you had…” He trails off, his implication clear. His face is mere inches from yours now, breaths as featherlight as his fingertips mapping every divot on your face.

“I love you.” He drags his thumb across your bottom lip, the act agonizingly slow. “So, so, so much.” Each whisper spills out heavier than the last, mirroring the increasing pressure of his thumb—your lip almost bruising from how hard he’s pinching them.

How long has it been? He can’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of your touch, your skin… eons too long without your pillowy lips pressed against his has left him completely starved.

“You can’t leave me…” A murmur too quiet to pick up. His gaze, now half-lidded, drifts downward in a drunken daze. “My wife. My good little wife. You love me too, right?”

Without warning, he leans in to close the minuscule gap.

And it’s all too fast and soon because you can feel the suffocating heat of his proximity, the chilling shared breath floating between the tight space. It’s all too much. So, in the last second, you hesitate, pulled from your stupor as you turn your head away.

But he’s not having it. Not when you’re already in the palm of his hand and he’s so fucking close. When he can already taste the opportunity to finally take out the trash and parasites leeching off you, to call up that godforsaken shithole you call a stable, steady-paying job and quit on your behalf, to have you all to himself—a blank slate to knock up with several kids and mold into the perfect little housewife he's always wanted you to be. God, he's already hard at the thought.

Grabbing your jaw firmly, he jerks your face back towards him, thumb roughly wedging between your lips and prying your mouth open.

“Baby.” The endearment spills out, sharp and cold, stripped of any warmth it might've once held.

His gentle veneer cracks ever so slightly, and for the briefest moment, you see something else. A flicker beneath the mask—raw, ugly, messy. It gnaws at the edges of your mind, dredging up something you can’t quite grasp. A memory?

“Gimme a small kiss, hmm?” Despite the smile on his face, there is no kindness to it. Just a twisted caricature warning you that you shouldn’t push further.

All of a sudden you feel like you can’t breathe, weighed down by the unsettling intensity of his stare. The man in front of you—the one claiming he's your husband and calling you “baby,” the one touching you—feels wrong. He’s a stranger, you remind yourself. An almost involuntary shiver runs down your spine, like your body remembers something your mind refuses to.

At this point, your husband has caught on to your rather obvious spiralling. He’s not an idiot—he can see your doubt giving way to panic. He contemplates smoothing things over by playing nice, but the selfish part of him ultimately wins.

He squeezes your jaw, nails biting into your skin.

“Kiss me.”

It isn’t a request this time.

[dolche-tejada]

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he has Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best our MC could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[theostrophywife]

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

[just-jordie-things]

kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru

word count: 2.8k warnings: none! :) summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3 ___

For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game.  Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.

Even though neither of them had any interest in going.  It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own? 

Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them.  Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day.  Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.

They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.

Still, they did their best to participate.  Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to.  (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain.  They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time.  They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games.  Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!

“This is fun, right?” 

When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear.  His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.

She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to.  It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends.  He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype.  (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye.  She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.

With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more.  “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said.  It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game.  He didn’t need to know that part.  “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.

Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard.  (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.

“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.  “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.

Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking.  Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.

“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.

Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring.  Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.

Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen.  (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time.  She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.

Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again.  Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action.  However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.

She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen.  The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them.  It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.

“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.

The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes.  Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.

Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts.  This was like a dream come true.  The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.

Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval.  He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n).  Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.

His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n).  His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.

“Are you okay with-?” 

The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.

(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko.  It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.

They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face.  And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.

It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens.  The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.

(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in.  Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.

That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.

To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone.  He scowled back at her.  She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!

With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands.  He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.

Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention.  He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors.  She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.

“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field.  “You wanna go after him? Be my guest” 

(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.

“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters.  “What even happened?” 

Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.

“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off.  “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?” 

With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea.  A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.

When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.

Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off.  Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves.  It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next. 

To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands.  Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy.  She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.

“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively.  Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.

“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.

“Sure,” She remarks.  “You’re totally not pouting right now.  C’mon just fess up.  What’s wrong?”

“I’m not pouting.  My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) frowns.

“Betrayed you?” She repeats.  “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?” 

Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically.  (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.

“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!” 

He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor.  (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.

“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her.  “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested.  “You’re mad about a kiss?” 

“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.

(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear.  Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing.  Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.

“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up.  And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-” 

“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?” 

Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away.  (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.

But he’s completely frozen in front of her.

“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality.  “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.

“I- I just… I meant that-” 

Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was.  He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular.  He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.

The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what.  It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.

“Sorry,” She apologizes right away.  “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.  I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?” 

She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.

Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight.  The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up.  He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.

“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of.  Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back.  “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-” 

“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.

“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly.  She giggles, nodding her head again.

“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades.  She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face.  “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked” 

“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically.  “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!” 

She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.

“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested.  “I know there’s not any cameras… but…” 

Satoru raised a brow.

“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?” 

Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head.  He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.  

She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his.  Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away.  She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.

His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating.  She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes.  It makes her smile to know first hand.

When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.

“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.

“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead.  He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose.  “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?” 

There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats.  As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.

“Then sit on my left next time” ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[hexhomos]

little random but i really appreciate your dissections and analysis of Mel mainly bc the fandom either adore her and won't admit she is a flawed character and get over defensive when you call her out, or straight up hate her and make her out to be completely evil.

Mel is written as morally grey for a reason and when ppl try to act like she was morally correct in everything she did, it goes against the whole plot. yes, she regrets most of her actions by the end of the series and is left to deal with her family's leagacy and the weight of her actions, but that doesn't undo anything she did. and her eventually starting to care about Jayce doesn't just cancel out that she manipulated him (you'd think this would be obvious)

what bothers me the most i think is meljay shippers who say Jayce mistreated her and that Mel only ever helped and care about him and aided him in rising to power politically, and how she was so understanding of Jayce's and Viktor's friendship. yes, encouraging methods of political corruption in order to gain more power is so caring and kind of her! ❤️

Mel might've told Jayce to go spend time with Viktor after finding out he was ill, but the one time in the show she interacted with Viktor was... prejudiced to say the least. she never directly spoke to or answered Viktor, and the expression on her face any time she looked over at Viktor was so clearly full of dislike. it shocks me ppl still believe Mel and Viktor could get along and respect one another, especially romantically. no way.

anyways, sorry for the rant. just tired of how many bad takes there are in this fandom and very fond of your account lol

you are right and you SHOULD say it re: that oft repeated argument about her "only wanting what's best for him" bothers me so much. Its just... weirdly patronizing and spousing pro-piltover nationalism every time i see it being brought up. "She's doing what anyone would do/what is best for the city!" IDK MAN I AM NOT ROCKING WITH THAT. Im not an ubercapitalist. I don't think any of that was the good option actually lol. Probably I hate piltover too much to humor these arguments but from day 1 we are shown this is a city of immense class inequality in which the elite few holds all the power and all the profit gains at the cost of everyone else's submission and humanity. (Not for nothing: these are also the classic old guard Noxian tenets of supremacy. That's how they do colonization.)

The interactions Mel has with Jayce for majority of the series, before she watches that bomb come in and has her rapid onset change of heart, are her talking about how investors want his work and how she can use his discovery to advance this city (which is already built on exploitation!) or instigating his rise to power as a new ringleader for the council's rigged mercantile operations, and this is just not good or heroic in any way to me. This isn't love either, it's industrial convenience. The fact that she's conflicted by the end doesn't cancel these actions out! Jayce realizes that he's been used in ways he strongly disagrees with and any the affection in that dynamic vanishes instantly. The time he spends in isolation replaying his mistakes in that cave has an emphasis on mel/heimerdinger's voice on the council too, all of his regrets with blindly following someone else's vision or disappointing an idol he held in high regards.

And Jayce DOES care about the state of the cities, or he did before the writers forgot: He's the one who pleads for Zaun's independence at the end of season 1! He's the one who spent all his life trying to work towards improving the lives of common people, giving them the miracles they've been denied!

Viktor is a fucking nobody. He is extremely worthless in the eyes of the piltovan upper crust, only kept around on the merits working with Jayce have afforded him; and they still don't care. They're probably hoping he dies quicker. We *SEE* him being singled out and alienated during that weapons discussion where Mel is pleading for Jayce to think about "protecting his people" (only piltovans, never, ever zaunites- protecting piltovans against the zaunite menace.) and Viktor is set off at that whole exchange because it doesn't matter how loud he screams, these people can just tune him off and pretend he doesn't exist anyway. It's what they're used to doing. It drives me insane!!!!! His indignation is extremely under-explored and very inline with his act1 speech of feeling like an undesirable presence in piltover and having to push through with the grit of his teeth. It's open faced classism and I still see people pretending it didn't happen. Fandom makes all of these characters FAR less interesting by defanging them. The heart is in the friction and in the ugliness of them fucking up because they have very, very different conceptions of "utopia" - and some of those utopias require the death of the other characters present.

A lot of the Arcane character arcs have to do with realizing the above, and weighing if the sacrifice is worth the risk. Sometimes it turns out their utopias were shit.

[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[seonghwaddict]

super duper pretty — kim hongjoong

in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.

musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS

listening to. right here, chase atlantic.

masterlist.

you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.

album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.

that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.

him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.

in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.

but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.

the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.

without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.

“hello?”

hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.

“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.

you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.

“what do you want?”

“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”

you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.

still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”

"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"

you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.

“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”

“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”

your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”

“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”

“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”

“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”

“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”

“okay.”

it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.

a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.

it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”

he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.

you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?

“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”

“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.

“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”

you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”

“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”

unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”

he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.

it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.

neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”

“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”

memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.

“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.

he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.

he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.

“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.

he was always like that with you. soft.

people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.

at least, until now.

the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.

eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.

the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.

you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.

as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.

you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.

you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”

“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.

you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”

“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.

you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”

his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.

“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.

“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.

his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”

your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.

you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”

you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.

"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”

those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.

“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”

he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.

he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.

sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.

“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”

your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”

you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.

your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.

his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.

but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.

he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.

“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”

he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”

that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.

“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”

your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.

“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”

he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”

“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“

you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.

“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”

“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”

you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.

“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”

you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[nxuvillette]

“COME AND STRIP IT DOWN, BABY.”

GENSHIN MEN SEEING YOU IN LINGERIE

synopsis: you got the opportunity to get some lingerie, what will your boyfriend think?

❥- including : neuvillette, alhaitham, arataki itto, zhongli

❥- note : came up with this on a whim. i honestly wanna go wear some lingerie for neuvillette now ! hope you guys enjoy 🩶 reblogs are appreciated !

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless blogs dni, lingerie wearing, established relationships, mentions of food (alhaitham), praising, horny men in public (zhongli + alhaitham), use of pet names (baby , darling), reader is a bit shy.

♡ NEUVILLETTE

neuvillette was actually the one who purchased the lingerie for you. it was a gift for your anniversary. he remembered you eyeing the piece of clothing when walking by the store, so he noted that and later bought it for you. 

he had yet to see it on you. he was dealing with a lot of responsibilities at work and sometimes he would come home pretty late. it was something he really disliked because he would much rather spend time with you instead, but his job as the iudex was taxing and he couldn’t do much about the workload. you two didn’t have as much intimacy as you would have liked, but regardless you both loved each other dearly.

it had been an exhausting day for neuvillette. he spent a majority of his time filling out paperwork and handling trials. all he wanted was to go home and feel your embrace. he even considered leaving work and coming home early just to spend a little more time with you. 

when he arrived home, he noticed it was kind of quiet. neuvillette was used to you coming towards the front door as soon as he entered, but you were nowhere to be seen. he wondered if you were out with your friends possibly, or maybe you were in bed taking a nap. regardless, he went upstairs to your shared bedroom to investigate. he figured he could take a shower if you weren’t home and he would wait for you until you came back, but that wasn’t the case at all.

his eyes landed on you sitting on the bed with the white lingerie he had bought you previously. a slight blush dusted over his cheeks at the sight of you wearing it. the swell of your breasts were enough to distract him, and the curvatures of your body being exposed through the tight fabric made all of the blood rush to his cock. 

“w-welcome home! i missed you..” you said, feeling a bit shy now that his eyes were fully on you. it was like he was undressing you with them. 

neuvillette stepped towards you, loosening his tie and removing his jacket. his hands were immediately exploring your body. it was almost like the first time he had sex with you. he couldn’t stop himself where he touched. your skin was soft like silk and the aroma of your perfume was intoxicating to him. “so beautiful.. i missed you even more, darling.” he pecked your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

your arms went around his neck. he was so handsome. you didn’t know how a man like him fell for you. “like it?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 

he chuckled, taking one of the straps and slapping it against your skin. a surprised yelp escaped your mouth when it made contact and the sudden stinging sensation spread around your flesh. “i love it..” he whispered against your lips. “i’ll love it even more when i tear it off of you..”

♡ ALHAITHAM

you and your boyfriend decided to go out for a little shopping trip. alhaitham finally had gotten a day free from his responsibilities, so you decided to take full advantage of his time to go out with him. he didn’t mind it much. he never says it out loud but spending time with you always made his days a lot better.

you both went around the different shops in sumeru. there were some fruits you decided to pick up and buy and you even browsed some clothing in a store that had just opened up. alhaitham didn’t mind spoiling you whatsoever. he loved seeing your smiling face whenever he brought a gift for you, or paid for something you wanted. even if you tried to tell him no, he insisted on making sure to fulfill that payment. it didn’t matter how much mora it was. 

it didn’t take long for you to end up at the lingerie store. you had gone in there a few times on your own, but you never really bought anything. you didn’t really know if your boyfriend liked lingerie or would want to see you in it. alhaitham quickly took notice of the clothing items on the mannequins inside. he was a little surprised to see that you had a pretty bra and panty set in your hand. it was a forest green color and it made lewd thoughts rush into his brain at the idea of you wearing it in front of him.

he trailed behind you as you entered a dressing room. some women emerged and entered the hall he was standing in, but he didn’t mind that at all. alhaitham wanted to see you. if he was feeling bold, he would have stepped right into the space with you so he could watch you undress. you just drove him crazy. 

the door opened suddenly, and alhaitham’s throat went dry when his eyes landed on you. he was right, the green looked amazing on your body. you seemed a little shy, judging by the fact that you hesitated to open the door fully. “like it..?” you asked, avoiding eye contact with him. 

he stepped towards the door to get a better view of your body in the lingerie. alhaitham couldn’t help but touch your waist and run his fingers along the hem of the bottoms. “i love it..” he couldn’t remove his eyes from you. there was just so much to look at. “i’ll buy it for you.”

you weren’t exactly shocked that he offered to pay for it, but you did like how it looked on you. “alright!” you replied, going to shut the door so you could change out of it.

he stopped you from closing it, causing curiosity to creep upon you. you were somewhat confused by his sudden action. “better wear it when we get home.. because i don’t think i’m going to stop myself.” he whispered, making your face burn with embarrassment.

♡ ARATAKI ITTO

itto was quite a spontaneous boyfriend. he often did things at random and he was very explosive about it. he had a very big personality, but none of that bothered you. he was a sweet boyfriend and you loved him more than you loved life itself. 

he spent a lot of his time with his gang, so sometimes you wouldn’t see him until he arrived home in the evening. an idea had crossed your mind when you were out and about in inazuma. you wanted to surprise your boyfriend with a little something, so you decided to buy some lingerie to wear for him. you two hadn’t ever done something like that before and you thought he would like it. itto was always up for a new challenge or to try out something he’s never done before.

it was kind of late, but you were expecting itto to walk in at any moment. 

you were wearing a pretty one piece that was maroon. the girl inside the store said it was new and a lot of people loved it, so you decided to take her up on the offer. it was a bit tight, but it wasn’t too harsh to where you were struggling to move in it. to be fair, you have never tried out lingerie before. 

your bedroom door suddenly opened and itto appeared in front of you. he was about to speak, but when he saw you sitting on the bed with the clothing on, he completely forgot what he wanted to say. itto couldn’t stop staring. his mouth fell agape and he could feel his cock harden inside of his pants. he thought you looked so fucking gorgeous. his day was already pretty good, but this made it even better than it was. his favorite girl in bed with pretty lingerie? what could get better than that?

“hehe! oh, fuck! baby, you look fucking fantastic!” he grinned, crouching to your level so he could get a closer look at your body. 

you shivered when itto’s fingers made contact with your skin. they felt a little cold from him being outside, but it felt so nice to feel. “really..? i’m glad!” you looked at him with bright eyes. you were relieved that he actually liked it. you weren’t exactly sure if he was into it or not. 

itto then pushed you backwards onto the bed so he could crawl over you. he could hardly contain himself and his body was growing feverishly hot. “fuck.. i love this so much.. i’m gonna make sure you feel good all night.” he said, then unbuckled his belt.

♡ ZHONGLI

it was actually zhongli’s idea to go and take you shopping. he often liked going out with you and walking around the different shops in liyue. another plus was that he got to spend his time with you. he didn’t always have the free time he desired, so being able to experience it with you felt really nice.

he paused when he saw a shop that was unfamiliar to him, because he hadn’t seen it around before. he vaguely recalled the space being vacant for many months, so he assumed that it was a new store that just opened up. it didn’t seem that busy, but zhongli quickly realized what kinds of things they were selling for women. he could see the mannequins in the window that were dressed with different kinds of lingerie. zhongli had an idea, so he motioned for you to follow him inside.

seeing the inside made you feel a little flustered. you didn’t know zhongli would have the idea to come inside this kind of shop, but nonetheless the lingerie was quite great quality. there were ones with special designs or really pretty bras with matching panties to go with them. 

zhongli had picked one out for you to try. it was a one piece that was black and there were specks of gold stitched into the fabric. it was beautiful, so you decided to try it on. 

he patiently waited outside of the changing room. it took you several minutes to get it on, but once you stepped out for your boyfriend to see, all of that shyness inside of you faded. zhongli was absolutely enthralled with how perfect you looked in the lingerie. “my.. you look gorgeous, darling.” he stood up to lift your chin with his finger. “so beautiful.. look at yourself.

you were taken by surprise when zhongli turned you around so you were both facing the mirror inside of the room. goosebumps littered your skin when you felt his bulge pressing against your ass. “it looks.. nice! i like the colors.” you smiled, looking at him through the glass. 

zhongli nodded his head, squeezing one of your tits. a gasp escaped your mouth from how unexpected it was, but it felt really good. “i’ll love it more when i fuck you in it..” he chuckled.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[etherealising]

one | christmas (baby please come home)

pairing(s): carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | fem!reader x original male character | the bear x fem!reader

synopsis: you reunite with carmy at the berzatto family christmas, five years after your falling out.

warning(s): angst | fluff | pining | semi-unrequited love | minimally edited

wc: 7.8k

READER HAS A NICKNAME BUT OTHERWISE AMBIGUOUS

A quiet Christmas playlist drifted through the confines of the house as three friends sat gathered around the kitchen table spending much-needed time together catching up while building gingerbread houses, the various glasses of wine shared between the three of them lowering their inhibitions. 

“Baby! You’re not even looking at the camera.” Natalie’s slurred words caused a fit of giggles to spill out of you as you held up your dilapidated gingerbread house whatever artistic skills you possessed washed away with all the wine swishing through your bloodstream. 

You positioned yourself once more smiling at Nat’s phone as you held the slowly crumbling house, Pete instinctively leaned over to join you for the photo only for his reindeer antler headband to poke you in the eye. Both of you fell into a fit of hysterics as Nat giggled behind her phone most likely snapping blurry photos. 

None of you could be sure how you’d gotten to the point of being wine-drunk on Christmas Eve. The celebrations began when Nat and Pete picked you up from the airport earlier that morning, the three of you deciding on a quiet night in with a home-cooked meal, followed by a night of Christmas festivities courtesy of Pete which you could never turn down especially when seeing how excited he always got. You remembered Natalie listing off her worries for tomorrow’s dinner as she poured the three of you wine, that first glass somehow turned into two empty wine bottles in no time as the three of you enjoyed each other’s company. 

“Wait, wait we’ve got to get a picture in our matching pjs!” Pete was by far the most sober of the three of you and that was probably how he won the game of rock, paper, scissors that forced you into wearing the set of Christmas pajamas he bought you that were a replica of the ones he and Nat currently had on.

You shook your head immediately, not wanting any more photo evidence of this night, especially knowing Nat was probably sending these pictures to Mikey who would most definitely never let you live down matching with the married couple. “I think we have more than enough pictures.” The words felt heavy as they rolled around on your tongue and you couldn't help but giggle at how slow you felt like you were speaking.

Nat moved around the table to your side wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned her chin against your shoulder and her cheek pressed into yours. “Pretty please Baby, we only get to do fun things like this a couple times a year when you visit.” She moved her face away to give what you assumed were supposed to be puppy dog eyes but was really just her concentrating extremely hard. “If you love me you’ll do it.” 

You rolled your eyes pretending to be put out by the married couple, not wanting them to know just how much fun you were actually having. While you were thankful for your success and the career you built up for yourself, that meant that you spent the majority of your time traveling and working, and while it was nice to see the world, sometimes you wished you could take more than a quick beat for visits like these. You hadn’t visited Chicago as much as you would’ve liked since moving to the West Coast, which meant you saw less and less of the family that made you one of their own all those years ago. You watched as Nat and Pete struggled to set up the phone in the living room for the group photo, giggling at how they seemed to feed off of each other as though they shared a single brain cell between the two of them.

Nat waved you over once they got the phone set up, “Oh! We should do like one of those awkward photo shoots.” 

You groaned, shaking your head back and forth while Pete stood next to you aggressively nodding his head in approval, the two of them were so goofy together you’re unsure why you ever thought you’d have an actual choice in how this unprofessional impromptu photo shoot was going to go. While you may’ve been inebriated that didn’t mean you were on board with every decision the two were making, but you also loved them too much to tell them no, and as you watched them excitedly try to figure out what pose to go with you figured you could feed into their inherent goofiness just this once in the spirit of Christmas.

Carmy stood in the kitchen of his childhood home watching as his mom prepared for Christmas dinner the following day, vehemently refusing any help when he offered it up but forcing him to keep her company and recount all of his culinary adventures as she worked.

He watched his mom move around the kitchen in an organized frenzy, talking to herself at points when she listed off what needed to be done next. Carmy could already see the weight of the looming festivities hanging heavy over her head, stressing her out before the day even began. While he understood and appreciated her love for food and cooking probably more than anyone considering she fostered that same love and appreciation within him when it came to the culinary arts, he always wondered why she insisted on cooking family dinner every year if it always ended in a mess.

“Oh fuck me!” The loud expletive forced Carmy from the recesses of his mind as he stared in his mother’s direction. “Carm honey, do me a favor and finish decorating the fireplace, the box of decorations is already out there.” 

Carmy stood there a minute longer trying to compute the fact that his culinary excellence was being disregarded and he was being put on decorating duty, “Carmen. Can you do it or do I have to do every fucking thing myself?” 

“No, uh yeah I got it.” He met his mother’s eyes nodding his head up and down in acquiesce, to let her know he had it under control.

She shooed him out of the kitchen returning to her food prep before he even made to move to the living room. Carmy quickly found the box of decorations exactly where his mom said it would be, the house was abnormally quiet he assumed Mikey was at The Beef but he couldn’t be sure he had no need to be near the sandwich shop at the moment and Sug moved out ages ago so here he was stuck in his childhood home with nothing better to do than decorate the fireplace mantle.

Carmy knew however he decorated the mantle his mom would just come behind him and fix it to her liking, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. Maybe if he got it close enough to how she liked she would have to do less fixing. He was surprised to find how calming decorating the mantle was, but maybe that was only because he didn’t care to impress anyone with his subpar decorating skills.

Reaching into the box Carmy pulled out the stockings each one designated to one of the Berzatto siblings. He easily hung the stockings onto the hooks on the mantle before reaching in for the last one, embroidered with a name he was sure he hadn’t seen in far too long a time. Carmy was foolish to think that because he ruined the friendship between the two of you that his family would disregard your whole existence over his mistakes. 

Carmy remembered how hard he tried for the first couple of months after he’d left to get into contact with you, to try and let you know just how sorry he was and how much he missed your friendship…missed you. If you ever gave him the chance, he was sure he’d spend his whole life apologizing for that moment. 

That night would haunt him forever, and his mind made sure of it, the worst moment of his life was on a constant loop anytime he got a moment of calm and quiet. Which wasn’t often but they happened enough for the hurt and pain on your face from that night to be permanently seared into his mind. And when it wasn’t memories of the way the moonlight illuminated the tears running down your face from that night, it was the overwhelming guilt that weighed on him for ever speaking to you that way.

Carmy’s hand traced across the embroidered thread of your name as though passing over it enough times would permanently thread the letters into his skin. He hesitated, unsure if they still hung the stocking long after you moved, a moment passed before he decided he would hang it if only just to catch a glimpse of something that reminded him of you. Carmy maneuvered the other stockings around in order to make space for yours trying to ignore the warmth that filled his chest at the sight of your name hanging directly next to his. 

He was pulled from his daze as his phone vibrated multiple times in rapid succession, he pulled the device out of his back pocket unsurprised to find Nat blowing up the sibling's group chat, plus Richie courtesy of Mikey. He was ready to shove the phone back in his pocket when a message coming through from Richie caught his eye, his heart sped up a bit as he read it before it disappeared off of his screen. 

Carmy was positive he had never opened the sibling's group chat as fast as he did at that moment. Opening the text chain he frowned at the assortment of pictures above Richie’s message doing his best to figure out what the hell he was looking at. The first few pictures were of Pete and Nat and as much as he loved his sister he wasn’t interested in seeing either of them. His thumb began swiping through the photos rapidly unsure why anyone would take so many photos of the same things over and over again. Carmy found himself stopping on one picture in particular, a picture that was neither Sug nor Pete, but presumably, the person who took the previous pictures of the couple. 

There you were. 

Smiling so wide it almost looked painful, a glow to your skin that made Carmy unsure if it was from the phone camera or if you were actually glowing. The picture was blurry but for the most part, he could make out your features, he would recognize you anywhere even after all the time spent apart he would be able to pick you out of a crowd with no trouble at all. That’s how deeply you were ingrained into his brain even if the last time he saw you was when you were a fresh high school graduate.

He scrolled once more the side of his lips ticking up at the same photo this time just a lot clearer, he absentmindedly saved the photo to his phone before resuming his viewing. Carmy’s eyes were always drawn to you when you were in any of the photos, at some point he began disregarding Sug and Pete entirely, giving you his full attention. He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle as he scrolled through all the shenanigans the three of you got up to saving another individual shot of you in front of the Christmas tree in Christmas-themed pajamas with matching socks and a headband with two candy canes in the shape of a heart. The sight of you smiling directly at the camera made it seem as though you were looking directly at him, a blush rose to Carmy’s cheeks at how pathetic it was for him to get so worked up over a few photos of you. He looked at the last photo a moment longer before realization dawned on him, his eyes quickly shot from his phone screen to the stocking he hung up. 

Carmy scrolled through the recently sent messages he missed after staring at the pictures of you so long gathering enough information to confirm his suspicions. He quickly turned on his heel before heading back into the kitchen.

“Yo ma,” she gave a distracted hum which was enough for him to begin his line of questioning. “Is uh…does Baby still come to family Christmas?” 

The older woman stopped what she was doing turning to face her youngest son with the most egregious ‘are you fucking stupid’ look Carmy received in a while. “Do I bust my ass every year preparing seven fishes that nobody ever fucking appreciates or eats?” 

Carmy was unsure if it was a trick question but as his mom raised her eyebrows awaiting an answer he realized there in fact was a right answer, “Yes?”

She shook her head looking him up and down as if he were a stranger “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Carmen, it’s like you're from a whole different fucking planet. Of course, the girl comes to Christmas, we're the only family she’s got left.” She stopped speaking to pull out the pack of cigarettes she kept on her slipping one between her lips before speaking around it. “And you would fuckin’ know that if you came home once in a while Bear.” 

Carmy nodded his head ignoring the last sentence as he let the information settle in, he would be seeing you face to face for the first time since high school, and the two of you would be in the same for hourse. He took his chance to slip out of the kitchen as his mother turned back to finish her prepping. He needed some time to himself to try not to work himself into a frenzy as he thought about what tomorrow would bring.

The Berzatto family home looked exactly as you left it all those years ago, the only noticeable difference was the Christmas decorations but other than that it was still your bonus home, the home you spent as much if not more time in than your own home. 

The home you grew up in sat just right across the street, a family of three began renting it a year after you left for college and although it was weird to think that another family was living in the home that would always hold a piece of you, you were just happy to rent it out to a loving family. You’d try to find the time and bring them a goodie basket or something, you always sent holiday cards, but now that you were in town you could meet them properly. 

You stood at the trunk of your rental car staring at the array of wrapped presents trying to decide if you should bring them all in now or just wait. Your eyes fell on the matte black sleek box, the last-minute gift cost more than it would’ve if you bought it ahead of time, you bit your lip the longer you stared at it only now feeling uncertain about the unwarranted gift.

“You sure you’re up for this?” The voice came from your side, Hayden leaned against the car as he watched you stare at the box as though it personally wronged you.

A small sigh escaped you as you turned to face him, arms crossing over your chest “Not really, no but I come home every Christmas and I can’t stop just because he happens to be in town.” Hayden looked at you like he knew you were lying but decided against mentioning it. “Thanks for coming with me by the way, I know it was last minute…how you holding up?”

Hayden shrugged before looking straight ahead, “Well my best friend has been sleeping with my wife for the better part of a year, and said wife served me divorce papers two days before Christmas so.” His voice trailed off as he gave you a sarcastic smile. “But I would say you’re having a worse day than me so it makes me feel a bit better.”

You frowned, not entirely understanding what he was getting at, causing him to roll his eyes, “Oh c’mon Baby, the kid you’ve been in love with our whole lives is home for Christmas, the two of you never even dated mind you. He broke your heart years ago and for some reason, you’re still in love with the idiot but won’t pick up the phone to tell him, and all of your relationships have failed because you’re too stuck living in the past.”

“I should’ve left your ass at home wallowing in self-pity.” 

Hayden’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile as he tipped his head to you. “Well now we can wallow in self-pity together, you can stay out here in the cold looking at that stupid box, but I’ll be in that warm house drinking all of Miss Berzatto’s good liquor.” 

The front door opening drew both of your attention, your heads swiveled to watch Mikey exit the house and begin making his way to you, a frown lined his face as his eyes landed on Hayden by your side confused at the extra guest you brought with you.

“Why the fuck are the two of you standing out here in the cold.” Mikey’s gruff voice felt like a balm for the doubt that was beginning to eat away at you from Hayden’s unwelcome reality check.

Hayden moved quicker than you anticipated, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “Oh you know just reminding our girl here that love sucks and it's all a fucking illusion because no matter how much you love someone they’ll always end up fucking your pseudo brother.” 

Mikey’s confusion was evident as his eyebrows pinched together even more, his eyes darted between the two of you mouth opening to speak only to quickly close as you shook your head back and forth as subtly as possible.

“Hey, is your mom drinking yet?” Hayden’s question earned a hesitant nod from Mikey who was unsure if providing her a drinking partner was the best thing to do. “Great…great, well merry fucking Christmas!” Hayden pressed a gentle kiss into your temple before moving to head into the house, clapping Mikey on the shoulder as he went by. 

Mikey moved to stand next to you, the both of you watching the train wreck of a man head into the Berzatto household. “What the fuck is up with that kid?” Mikey turned to look at you trying to figure out exactly what kind of mess you brought to family Christmas.

“Sasha’s leaving him.” You watched as understanding washed over Mikey’s face a small nod following as he put two and two together at Hayden’s weirder-than-usual behavior. Mikey opened his mouth to give you shit about bringing the insufferable kid with you only stopping as you spoke over him. “He’s good people, Mikey, I just didn’t want him alone on Christmas.”

Mikey didn’t have an argument for that. As irritating as Hayden could be he found himself indifferent towards the kid you called friend. Mikey was loathed to admit it and he would deny it if anyone ever asked him, but he had a secret appreciation for the kid, Hayden was there for you during a tough time in your life, he was there for you when you needed a friend or someone in your corner who wasn’t directly connected to the youngest Berzatto and for that, Mikey respected the kid, but it's not like he’d ever tell you or him that. 

“Let me look at you,” Mikey’s voice broke through the quiet that had settled over the two of you, your eyes flashed to his face taking in the facial hair he'd decided to grow out. “All fucking grown up ain’t you. Can we still call you Baby or you too grown for that shit now?” 

You rolled your eyes at the joke Mikey made every time you came home before turning and grabbing your bag from where you sat it in the trunk, leaving the gifts behind and moving to walk towards the house with Mikey, “As much as I regret the nickname I’m not sure if I could get used to hearing you all call me by my first name again.” 

Mikey chuckled at your words, hand moving out to grab your elbow and stop you from continuing ahead. “Relax out here with me for a bit yeah?”

A frown lined your face as Mikey stopped in front of you, you could tell he had ulterior motives for stopping you, his hand moving to take the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before lifting it to his mouth and lighting it. 

“You uh, you know your little boyfriends in that house right?” 

Your nose scrunched up at Mikey’s words, you could hear the teasing tone in his voice as he spoke but that didn’t mean his words didn’t make your chest ache. Of course, you knew he was here, but not until a week after you booked your flight and Nat gave you some bullshit excuse about how she just didn’t know he was coming home for Christmas. You were upset with her and rightfully so but Pete somehow still talked you into coming and so here you were pretending like seeing Carmy after so long didn’t matter, pretending like you hadn’t teared up on the drive over with your face turned to the window as Hayden drove, quietly reliving every vile word Carmy spewed at you that night in your head. Pretending as though you didn’t carry his words along with the hurt they caused within you for years like they didn’t change the way you viewed yourself and took up space in other people’s lives, maybe Hayden’s observation about you carrying the past around was more factual than you once thought. 

And it didn’t matter that he tried getting back in contact with you his first year in California or that he sent flowers and a card when your mom passed saying he’d come home if you needed him to. None of it mattered because it would never make up for the underlying truth in his cold, cruel words from all those years ago.  

Mikey’s eyes darted around your face watching the small changes in your expression knowing you were thinking about the past, his cigarette halfway gone as he lost you to the inner workings of your mind. He took another puff before letting it fall from his fingertips and stomping it out, the tears lining your eyes forced him to move faster as he tucked you into his chest listening to you struggle to breathe as you fought to keep the sobs from wracking through your body.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. You can leave right now if you need to and no one has to know you were here.” His hand raised to stroke your head as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth. “Hayden will understand.” 

You pressed your forehead into his chest as you willed yourself to calm down not wanting to make it obvious you’d been crying once the two of you made your way inside although it was probably already too late for that. 

“Why does it still hurt Mikey?”

A deep sigh raised the older man's chest at your words, his hands fell to your biceps gently pulling you away from him. The look Mikey gave you said it all, a look that forced you to face a truth you’d been running from for the past five years. Creating a new life and pretending as though whatever misguided feelings you held towards Carmy were just that of a childhood crush. 

It still hurt because you never stopped loving him.

You were thankful Mikey didn’t speak the words aloud unlike Hayden, you’d already been lectured by him countless times on this subject, Richie even jumped in from time to time to express his discontent. No one could understand why you held onto your feelings for Carmy so strongly knowing firsthand how much pain and anguish they caused you. You were scolded plenty of times about holding onto all that hurt, being told to either let it all go or talk to Carmy. You couldn’t bring yourself to do either of those things. 

But you couldn’t keep living in your head and feeding into the fairytale of you and Carmy forever. You had to move on with your life at some point, and even though Hayden was correct that one moment from your past kept ruining your future, at this point, you were doing it to yourself. Although it was painful and it took some time, the broken record of Carmy’s words from that night five years ago made it just a bit easier. 

“Baby,” Mikey paused on his words trying to find the right thing to say he felt torn every time this topic came up. You were a little sister to him, he viewed you in the same way he viewed Nat. He wanted the best for you, but this wasn’t it and the both of you knew it. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself? I’m not saying you should forgive Carm m’ just sayin’ holdin’ on to all this hurt isn’t doing you any good.” He watched as you looked away from him, the realization clear on your face, Mikey could read you so well he knew you were tired of carrying the grief of that dead friendship around with you. His hands reached out to cup your face the rough pads of his thumb tenderly caressing your squished cheeks. “You’re finally in the same place after all this time, figure this shit out for both of your sakes.” 

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you fought the urge to come up with some lame excuse as to why now wasn’t the right time, but there’d never be a right time for the two of you. 

You wrapped your arms around Mikey’s waist once more needing the warm strong bear hugs he always provided to help calm yourself down enough to be prepared to face everyone, but also to signal you were done with this conversation entirely. You pulled out of Mikey’s grip as he gave you a look seemingly asking if you were okay, you nodded in answer, relaxing into him as he pressed a gentle kiss onto the skin of your forehead.

“Alright, let's get you inside before mom comes out here and cusses me out for keeping you in the cold.” Mikey’s hands rubbed up and down your arms to provide you with the much-needed body heat.

A genuine laugh left your lips knowing Mikey’s words were closer to the truth than one might think. Mikey moved to turn around and begin walking to the door but was forced to stop as you reached out to grab his hand. “I uh, I got you something.” 

His eyebrows raised in question, “Awe you didn’t have to get me nothin’.” You rolled your eyes rummaging through your bag for the two presents and holding them out to him once you found them, chuckling as you watched him place his hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental moments and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else. 

You smiled holding the heavier of the gifts out to him first, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded, feeling your face warm as you let your eyes dart around so you didn’t have to watch his reaction.

Mikey smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfed it from end to end. He smiled at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shoved his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands holding it in front of your chest, the glass facing him so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, I didn’t trademark it for myself or anything. I just remember how much you all used to talk about this, and I'm not sure if it's something you still want but I…I just wanted you to know I still believe in you. And I…I know how tough shit is lately and I promise I didn’t mean to step on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” 

You could hear your long-winded explanation become more emotional by the minute but you needed Mikey to know how loved and appreciated he was. He was a big brother to you, always by your side whenever you needed him, he saw you through all the bullshit with Carmy and helped you to get through your mom's death. And when you were hellbent on throwing whatever little future you didn’t think you had left away he was right there with you pushing you to see just how much you deserved to get out of this godforsaken city and make something of yourself. 

“You deserve so much in this world Mikey, and I wish I could give it to you. But you need to know how much I believe in you and how much I love you, I’m always in your corner,” you paused trying to choke back another round of tears. “And Mikey I…I don’t think I would be here right now if it wasn’t for y-.” 

Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, the both of you taking every bit of love and comfort the other offered in that moment. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. He wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey to have this moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while his emotions ran high. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face, his eyes found yours, 

“Thank you, Baby,” the words were spoken so quietly you were surprised you caught onto them a small imperceptible nod of your head directed at him as you gave him a tearful smile. Mikey placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug. 

You decided it best to leave the biography you finally wrote, printed, and compiled about him after all these years in his room, wanting him to be able to experience it in private so he could indulge in whatever feelings it brought forth. 

Mikey’s head sat atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear listening to the rhythm of his beating heart. The hug you shared with Mikey in that moment felt heavier than any other time you had the pleasure of being held in his arms. You’d be remiss not to notice but chose instead not to bring it up to him and enjoy the moment for what it was.

A moment of peace.

30 minutes passed since Michael escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty, he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping their mom out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever grabbed Mikey’s attention. 

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, but not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list off a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it. 

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy offered to him marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the color drain from his face at the older man’s words, the younger of the two looking as nauseous as the pregnant woman upstairs. Although he knew you were in town he’d gotten so sucked into the chaotic energy of everything that his mind hadn’t given him any time to overthink seeing you all these years later and if he knew Mikey was outside with you he would’ve made sure he was nowhere in the vicinity of your entrance, not because he didn’t want to see you or be around you but because after all these years he still had no idea how to admit every feeling he kept bottled up and tucked away from you. 

“Did you not know she was coming? Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those two idiots probably just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jagoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family and a surprise plus one. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who finally joined his side nodding his head to the window. 

“Awe and she brought her little boyfriend with her.” Richie’s words bounced through Carmy’s head like a game of pinball. You were seeing somebody? Carmy unceremoniously shoved Richie out of the way to get a glimpse of his own out the window, the older man did his best to hold in his laughter. 

Carmy looked out the window just in time to see you snuggly pressed into another man’s side, his brain working overtime to figure out who it was before he watched the man lean in and press a soft kiss into the side of your head causing Carmy’s stomach to sink. 

“When did they start dating?” Before Carmy could stop himself the question was out in the open, his voice sounded less curious and more annoyed than it should have. 

Richie knew what he was about to do next would probably get him into a load of shit but he couldn’t help but want to fuck with Carmy, would you beat his ass for it later, probably but that wasn’t gonna stop him from having his fun. 

“Ohh shit, nobody told you, Cousin?” Richie did his best to sound sad as he spoke, fighting to keep his face neutral as Carmy turned to look at him. “Listen, I don't think it's my place to tell you.” Richie raised his free hand and the cup up in defense.

Carmy could feel his heart speed up the longer he looked at Richie, “Told me what?” An apologetic look washed over Richie’s face twisting the feeling of despair deeper into Carmy’s chest. “Told me fucking what Richie?” He did his best not to scream in the man’s face but the longer Richie stayed silent the more Carmy was sure he was going to have a breakdown. 

“Carm…she’s,” Richie paused suddenly realizing that maybe this joke wasn’t as funny as he first thought it once was but he was in too deep now. “Baby’s married.” 

The tightness in Carmy’s chest intensified tenfold as his eyes traced Richie’s face for any inkling that he was lying. He could feel his palms becoming clammy as he tried to comprehend the truth bomb Richie just dropped on him. When did you get married? Why didn’t he know? 

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he already knew the answer to that last question. You didn’t want him to know, the two of you weren’t those same kids from five years ago. There was no more sharing everything that happened in your lives with one another and Carmy only had himself to thank for that. 

“Don't fսck with me right now Richie.” Carmy was doing his best to hold onto whatever was left of his resolve not knowing if he could realistically spend his first Christmas home in years watching you be happy with some other man. 

Before the older man could admit to his fallacy the door swung open, the man in question walking through the door. 

“Yo, Richie how you been man? Tiff trynna kill you yet?” His voice drifted through the foyer as he shrugged out of his jacket while Carmy forced himself to turn around making eye contact with the man only receiving an indifferent look in return. “Carmen, good to see you home dude.” 

It took Carmy a moment to realize he knew the man standing in front of him, Hayden Ivanovski was always more your friend than he was Carmy’s but the two of them got along decently enough for your sake. Carmy’s eyes flitted down to the hand stretched out in his direction, quickly latching onto the gold band wrapped around his ring finger, the truth of the situation settled heavily inside of him as he shook Hayden’s hand.

“Yeah uh, good to be back.” Carmy restrained himself from physically massaging out the ache in his chest as he stood in front of the man who succeeded where he couldn’t. He let Hayden’s hand go, tuning out the conversation between Richie and Hayden as he lost himself to the overwhelming thoughts swimming through his head moving to stand just outside of the kitchen as he leaned against the wall. There was no doubt about it, you were married, and those hateful words Carmy spewed at you in the backyard of his family home five years ago probably only helped to push you into Hayden’s embrace. 

Carmy heard you before he saw you. He’d been so lost in his self-deprecating thoughts that he hadn’t heard the door open again. 

All of these years, all the skipped holidays, and Carmy was missing out on you. The sight of you standing in his family home helped to calm his racing heart but then he watched as Hayden pulled you into his side, the two of you looking like a picture of love as the man leaned in placing one more kiss to your temple, conveniently staring Carmy down from across the foyer. 

Carmy dropped his gaze from Hayden before focusing on you once more, the tension seemed to just bleed right out of him as he watched you glow in happiness even if caused by someone else. He was so caught up in his staring that he hadn’t realized the way Mikey glanced at him, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for Carmy to make a move he hadn’t prepared for and didn’t even know he could still make. 

He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity worked its magic on you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school. 

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered, he wasn’t drawn to you because of your appearance it was just you as a person that always kept his attention. The comfort you brought him, the way he used to feel safe just being in your presence, the softness you taught him it was okay to bask in, and the way you allowed him to be vulnerable and unapologetically himself were what really kept him hooked. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things, and he made sure to do so as he stared at you from his vantage point staring around Mikey’s body. Carmy was sure he could look at you all day and deep down inside, he knew he would spend most of Christmas doing just that now that a future with you wasn’t attainable. 

He was pulled from his study of you as your voice rang through his ears, the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth warmed his body. 

“Merry Christmas Carmy,” he could tell your smile was forced, but even the fact that he was worthy of your attention at this moment was enough for him. “It’s nice to see you home.” 

Carmy tried not to read into your words knowing you were just being friendly but the way Mikey cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at his younger brother, he knew he needed to say something. 

The moment was lost though as another voice interrupted the silence that fell over the group in the foyer. 

“Baby, is that you? My goodness, you look fucking gorgeous and you brought Hayden!” Half of Donna’s body popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet the newcomers. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, while she held a ladle in her right hand and the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron was covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else she was in the kitchen making.

Carmy watched as you laughed half in amusement, you and Hayden both waved in his mother’s direction. Hayden gestured for you to walk in front of him as you both made your way to the kitchen. Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girl's bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. “C’mon Hayden, I need someone to drink and gossip with.”

The man wasted no time tossing his jacket atop the rest of the pile before maneuvering around Carmy and you. Richie and Mikey had dispersed at some point leaving the foyer empty aside from the two old friends. Carmy gestured for your tote, taking it out of your hand before awkwardly helping you to slip off your jacket doing his best not to touch you unnecessarily. 

Carmy tried to match the small smile you gave him as you made to move around him but was sure he just looked miserable. He was surprised as you gripped his bicep before walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” He watched as you genuinely smiled at him for the first time in years, unsure if the rhythm his heart was beating in was healthy or not.

A concerned look washed over your face at Carmy’s silence forcing the man to hesitantly nod his head surprised you would’ve gotten him anything after all this time. He opened his mouth to speak but settled against doing so, sure he would make a fool of himself, instead giving you a small shy smile in return. Carmy watched you a moment longer, your own mouth opening and closing like his once had before you settled on a simple nod and dropped your hand back to your side, before walking into the kitchen.

Whatever little hope that interaction had given Carmy was dashed as soon as he heard Hayden’s voice call out to you. You were happy and that’s all he ever wanted, Carmy knew he should’ve been happy for you, but he couldn’t bring himself to come to terms with the fact that all of this could’ve been avoided if he had just been honest with you five years ago.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to watch as another man brought forth the happiness that once used to be reserved for him. 

a/n: well, well, well what do we have here? gonna be honest idk how the bear fandom is doing so this series rewrite may not get as much love as the original, but that doesn't bother me as much as it used to.

some quick housekeeping as we begin this journey once more; ya girl is working full time so updates will be sporadic, genuinely have no upload schedule so please if you read this rewrite be gracious and understand i have a real life outside of fic writing. other than that please enjoy like/comment/reblog it means a lot.

i've missed you all so much please fangirl with me over these two once more! 🫶🏼🤍