#I have a friend and I think she’s really cool

[muntitled]

Better Than Drugs

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader | Brief!Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games.

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, High sex, Dub/con, Choking, Exchange of Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Unedited (we die like soldiers)

A/n: literally no one will read this but I need him and I wrote this for me!

Being treated like a lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter in a death game sucked ass but seeing your ex boyfriend there sucked even more, somehow. From your vantage point perched on your bed tucked away from all the central conflict, you notice them talking about you again.

Call it past bully traum but you knew when people were talking about you and although you couldn't make out what they were saying, a part of you just knew...

Another vote had ended and Namgyu was still staring at you, his head bowed, chewing his fingernails. He was watching you, while you were forced to watch as democracy crumbled around you.

Your brain made you think Namgyu was perhaps berating you in front of his new friend. Bad-mouthing you to absolutely no end, perhaps saying what a lousy, uptight girlfriend you had been in the outside world. How you kept him from his habit. How you tried to force him into rehab countless times.

And so you shrink into yourself, squeezing yourself further into your bed, hugging your knees.

How were you supposed to know the conversation went nothing like how you thought it was going?

"We need to get her on our team," Thanos had said when the voting concluded and they were watching you pick at your roll of tin-foiled kimbap.

"She's already on our team," Namgyu muttered, more quiet than usual as he watched you through the corner of his eye. He didn't feel like eating. He felt like doing drugs. And fucking, maybe, but eating? It never occurred to him.

Without you to remind him to eat, and to actually take care of his bodily health outside of his substance abuse, he really was a mess.

"Oh yeah," Thanos muttered dumbly before turning back to his own food, "Kay, well, I need to sleep with her."

Namgyu didn't even look up from his food, still leaning against the metal beds as he murmured a quiet, "Nope." Popping his lip, extenuating the 'p'

Thanos himself was rallied into silence as Namgyu casually clicked his tongue before adding, "I called dibs on that bro," he steals another glance. You're searching your chest for a piece of cucumber that's fallen out of the kimbap

This unfortunately, zeroes his gaze in on your ample chest, miraculously squeezed into that tracksuit jacket. Now Namgyu was thinking about your tits while Thanos' head whips to the side, his brow lifted.

Namgyu couldn't take his eyes off you since the games began. Watching you during voting time had stirred up all kinds of lost emotions. The easy and almost thoughtless way you had pressed the blue button before tucking your hands in your pockets, never sparing anyone a second glance. He had to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpant. If it weren't for him you might have continued to go amongst the games as an anonymous spectre, with that cash prize as your only goal.

"I didn't know we were calling dibs!?" Thanos stomped his feet petulantly, "That's not fair, man. Not. Cool."

"That's the point of dibs," Namgyu said, pushing his hair behind his ears as he continued to stare you down. "Who knows how long we'll be here?" As he watched you, he tilted his head downwards, causing a thick shadow to fall over his eyes as he watched you. He leaned against the railings of the metal beds piled up to the ceiling, watching you tuck your hands deeper into the sleeves of your sweater. Really fucking cute.

"B-But Homies don't call dibs on girls!" Thanos whines.

"Yeah," Namgyu nods, "but, I'm gonna need more than magic pills and a homie to get me through the night," He made a ring with his index and thumb finger, pinching his one eye shut as he spied at you through it, "She can help,”

Thanos was quiet, eerily so. Good things never happened when Thanos was quiet,

"Let's go over to her right now then. Since she's stealing my homie-"

That immediately snapped Namgyu out of his lust-filled gaze, promoting his shoulders to straighten as he tried to stop Thanos from taking another step towards you.

"Senorita-" he said in a singsong voice and you rolled your eyes as you saw them approaching. Namgyu walked behind like the shadow he always tried to be, with his hands tucked in his pocket. Your bed is relatively low to the ground and your heart stammered when both their shadows fell over you.

"Don't have any change," your eyes whipped to your ex-boyfriend before narrowing, "Or drugs. Sorry." you mustered a painfully sarcastic smile as you attempted to turn in another direction, hoping they might take the hint.

Thanos' teeth stretched as Namgyu swallowed thickly, watching you in that distinctly predatory way of his as he propped his forearm against the railing of the bed. You hate how both of them make you feel and your eye scans in vain around the premises, hoping someone might save you from the duo.

"Lemme make this quick," Thanos said with his drug addicted hand gestures. "My bro wants you and whatever bro wants-" he taps Namgyu's chest behind you- "Bro gets."

Silence passed with you staring deep into Namgyu's dark, almost sinister black eyes. You admitted that you were still painfully attracted to him. Knowing that he knows your body. He's already seen what hid under your blue tracksuit, it was dizzyingly sobering.

He still seemed so devastatingly sleezy it bordered on attractive, like he didn't care about what anyone really thought of him. It still brought an uncomfortable amount of attraction that you didn't really know what to do with. "No thanks," you said, bending your head to take a bite of the kimbap.

"Cunt." you heard him mumble under his breath. That caused your head whip up to glare at him.

"I'm a cunt because I'd rather not fuck a drug addict?"

"No," Namgyu shrugged, "You're just a cunt."

Your nostrils flared as something diabolical ignited inside you. Up until this point, fear had been the only emotion you allowed yourself to feel. The fear of dying to keep you alive. But right now, you're being plagued with another emotion and it's setting you alight with interest.

Your dating preferences were never orthodox. You knew you could never truly be satisfied with any other timid nice guy, and that's what drew you to him. You hated admitting to it but Namgyu calling you a cunt did more than irritate you, it ignited you.

"I'm not here to make friends,” You marvel now, in the tense darkness, how confident you had been then.

“How about a boyfriend then?” Namgyu asked and Thanos whistled lowly as he mutters a ‘nice bro,’

“How about choking?” You shot back, “I tried the boyfriend thing and he stole all my savings to buy drugs.” Namgyu’s jaw ticked and you can see his fist fold and unfold. Thanos’ commentary continues. ‘Shit boyfriend-’ he says under his breath.

“Don't be a bitch so early in the morning…” Namgyu says finally before turning his head, somewhat distracted, “Or at least I think it's morning. Hyung do you think it's morning-”

Thanos raised his hands, “Morning is what we make it in here, bro.”

“Leave me alone of I'll fucking scream.” you cut through all their useless chatter, letting a tense silence settle between the three of you. Eventually, Thanos reluctantly pulls Namgyu away. Murmuring a quiet ‘just take a hint bro.'

Soon, you were left in your bed but not without one more backwards glance from Namgyu over his shoulder. He wasn't done with you and that thought sat heavily on your shoulders until the robotic voice from unseen speakers made the countdown to lights out.

The very last thing you remembered, before the overhead lights were snuffed out, was his black, almond eyes still watching you from his bed.

The blue 'O' velcroed to your breast burns a hole through your conscience as your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night, really needing to pee. The prize money acts as the only source of gold light illuminating the hall while everyone else remains soundly asleep.

Life in the games was so much more stomachable during the day, but when the lights went out, you were forced to sit with your thoughts. That piggy bank didn't have money inside it, it held bodies, and the ghosts practically filled this room.

Still, you can't help but whisper to yourself, “I really have to pee.” The only thing stopping you from going to the bathroom is the gaze you knew would somehow find you from three beds over. Your ex boyfriend watches you, even when the lights go out.

Paranoia be damned.

Cursing softly, you maneuvered yourself to the ground. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you moved through the row of beds.

If you were being followed you'd never know. Everything was too dark but a part of you sighed as you reached the small arched doorway completely unscathed.

Almost unscathed.

Your heart hammers in its cage when you feel his heavy arm settle over your shoulders. Your mouth falls open but Namgyu is already banging on the arched door with a closed fist. You flinch with every loud, metallic hit.

The little window opens to reveal a triangle-masked soldier. He stands there emotionless.

“My girlfriend's on her period- she's bleeding everywhere. We need the bathroom.”

There is silence from the Guard who is clearly unimpressed. Just before the little window is about to slide shut Namgyu kicks at the door, “Hey! I wanna fuck my girl- if you want, we could do it out here?!”

You try to wrench yourself out of his grip, toilet be damned but your heart absolutely sinks to find the pink soldier opening the metal door.

Namgyu only twirls, pumping his fist before pulling you in his arms, biting back a smile.

“Can't believe that worked,” Namgyu says, with a raised eyebrow and a happy little shrug as he drags you across the threshold. The trip to the women's bathroom is relatively short as you writhe and fight in his hands. There's virtually no reason for the pink guard to think any of this was consensual but they kept their stoicism on their face as you reached the girl's bathroom.

“We'll be quick,” Namgyu assures the guard with a tight sort of smile before pushing you into the bathroom, and closing the door after himself.

You trip on your way running into one of the stalls and he watches you, biting his nail.

“This is the girls bathroom, or are you too high to notice?” You hiss absolute venom as he bites his fingernail.

“Nah, I'm sober right now, which means I need something to take the load off.”

“Cool. Use your hand,” you sigh from within the stalls before dropping your pants to pee. It irked you that he was standing there, on the other side… waiting for you.

You make quick work of it all. Wiping, flushing, and making a beeline for the sinks. He lets you wash your hands but before you make it to the door his arms are wrapped around your waist.

“Uh Uh,” he tsks, “No ‘i miss you’ kiss, huh?” He drags you into his arms, kicking and screaming as he swipes your brains from across your panicked face.

“Only competent boyfriends get kisses,” Despite the fuss, the door doesn't open. Those guards have quite literally abandoned you in here to fend for yourself.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, “I miss you really bad, baby,” Namgyu's pushing your back against the sink, stained with that sickening, pastel colour as he lowers his nose into the crook of your neck. You writhe as he breathes you in deeply, before sighing. His erection pressed against your thigh.

“Someone else could walk in here,” you cry, feeling a dampness seep out of you, wetting your underwear. Your body was being traitorous because it was enjoying feeling anything other than fear. It yearned for it.

“Sto-” you attempt to catch your breath as he gropes at your breasts from over your tracksuit. “Stop touching me-” you say despite your legs getting weaker and weaker.

“You don't get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you stopped being my boyfriend.” He was so much taller than you when he stretched his hand across your cheeks, forcing your neck back to make more space for his lips. A moan nearly spills out of you.

His hands are trembling and his tongue swipes out to lick the length of your neck. To your shock and horror, you melt in his grasp.

“You don't mean that-” he whispers against your skin. “No one's gonna fuck you like I do-”

“No one's going to steal my money like you do either-”

His hand flies down to your throat, choking as he says through clenched teeth, “I told you I had a problem-” he squeezes and for the briefest moment, you see stars. “I needed help and you abandoned me, you bitch-”

“I didn't abandon you-” His lips are on yours, silencing you in one messy kiss that him forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“You gonna be good for me, Huh?’ He says, hoarsely, your eyes glare up at him.

“Leave me alone-”

“You know I love it when you try to fight back,” his mouth breathes against your hair, “You trying to get me riled up babe, huh?”

His fingers find the lining of your own sweatpants and your heart stammers as he turns to push your front against the sink. Your hand grips at the cheap plaster and you avoid your own traitorous reflection in the mirror, lest you find not only fear in your eyes, but lust

“You know how bad I've needed this- fuck,” his voice cracks when fumbles his cock out, grinding against your ass with his eyes closed in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open. Your finger curls around the sink as the first moan slips out of you. It had his eyes flying open to look down at you in amusement and awe.

“I knew you weren't a completely stuck-up bitch,” he says, pulling you up by the base of the throat, “I knew you still wanted me.”

“I don't,” you squeak out as he pulls down your pants.

“No- but your body does,” he swipes your underwear to the side.

Your body spasms as he roughly sinks his digits into you once before pulling out.

He continues to swipe your arousal from from your ass to your puffy clit and the need wracks through your entire body, building as you arched your ass backwards against him.

“You miss me real bad,” he brings your fingers up in front of your face and your heart drops to find the arousal webbing his index and middle.

His mouth is by your ear, breathing heavily as he lines his cock up at your entrance, already leaking precum, “I know I gave you hell when we were out there-”

“Hell doesn't begin to cover- FUCK-” he rams his cock into you. Positively brimming with need as his hips stutter against you.

“Y-ou stole my fucking savings for drugs-” you get the sentence out quickly before moaning into the air, as your boyfriend fucks out all the frustration he's been carrying, all the need and the withdrawal.

“And I ate you out as an apology-” He reaches his hand around to clamp down on the base of your throat. Your mouth falls open when he cranes our neck back, his eyes boring into yours. “Don't you miss it baby, don't miss having me inside of you?”

“Y-Your eyes are diluted-” you begin to say, utterly incredulous. “You're high right now!”

His hips thrusts in shallow, quick strokes. “And your pussy's wet, guess we're both fucked.”

“That it…” he whispers, “Don't think I haven't forgotten the way you abandoned me out there… But in here,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, “You dont so much as fucking breathe without my permission.”

Your pussy tightens around him like a long lost friend, it knocks you out how deeply you've craved him. Needing reprieve from all the fear. “You're squeezing around my cock, you fucking slut-” that nearly has you seeing stars. Your body spasms.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his cock hits that particular pillow of nerves inside you, nearly flipping you off the edge.

You do it without thinking about it and his eyes widen as he presses that same hand to your clit.

“Spit on my hand,” he says, an edge to his voice that let you know he was far too close. You forgot how messy things got when you had sex with him. How much of a mess he made of you.

“F-Fuck!” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he reaches around to rub you to your orgasm. His movements only fumble when his hips start stuttering.

“N-Need you to cum for me-” he breathes out. “I’m jittery- baby. I need it- shit-” you slip into your orgasm right in front of him, milking his cock for all its worth. “F-Fuck this is so much better than drugs,” he murmers, eyes rolled back as a drunken smile ghosts over his face. He's in complete and utter euphoria.

Two rough knocks on the door signal the need for your return but Namgyu's cock is still spilling ropes of his cum inside you and you're doing nothing but taking it.

“I hate you,” you breathe out, because it's true. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be here.

His breath is warm against your neck as he says, “I love you too.

[letsbangts]

answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

masterlist

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."

Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.

The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.

"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"

"It's Emily!"

"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.

He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.  

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.

"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.

They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.

You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"  

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.

"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."

He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."

"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."

You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."

Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”  

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”  

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well. 

"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.

“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

"What?"

He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.

"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."

"Deal," you giggle.

"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.  

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah." 

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head. 

Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you." 

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.  

Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

"Come here."

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”

You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."

"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."

"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.

You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?

Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.

He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.  

Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life. 

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.

But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.

Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.

"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"

To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."

You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.

"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."

"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."

"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"

He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."

"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."

"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."

"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.

"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."

"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"

"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one."

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.  

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."

Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.

"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?  

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.  

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn't have to wait for long.

He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

[seasprincess]

nerd!rafe x popular!reader

mdni

warnings: smut-handjob, pathetic sub!rafe, this is not cannon Rafe AT ALL

Rafe Cameron is a quiet nerdy boy with about no friends. Where as you, you’re loud and popular, friends with everyone.

Ever since you had joined the school Rafe’s eyes have been on you. Watching you laugh and smile with the people that flocked to you like moths to a flame.

He couldn’t help admire you in a way. But mainly he was admiring your beauty.

He has never spoken to you of course. God no he wouldn’t dream of it. Well that’s not entirely true.

He’s dreamt of it, thought of it, imagined it while his hand was around his length. But not in a perv way of course. No no. Not in the way the other boys do it. In a sweet way. Right?

But no, he couldn’t talk to you. In the world of high school. Rafe isn’t allowed to talk to you. He’s too ‘low’ for you. Which he thinks is stupid but he can’t rewrite the social laws of the school.

So he’ll just sit in class staring at you instead of doing his work. Not like he needs to do more work in class. He’s smart enough to pass a test with just a glance. So here he’ll sit waiting for his chance to talk to you properly. Instead of that couple times you were sweet to him, sticking up for him and that one time he said thank you for you holding open the door. And god did that thought make his heart beat.

But soon enough, here’s his lucky day.

“Rafe, you’ll be working with y/n.” The teachers words ring in his head as his eyes are pulled up from the desk. He turns to face you and sees that you’re looking at him. And he c-wait-you’re looking at him.

He does a double take before seeing you wave at him. A small gesture that means so much to him you don’t even know. So he does a wave back. But he’s shy and awkward so now he’s stressing that he looked weird and seeing your friends giggling and whispering doesn’t help the feeling he’s embarrassed himself.

So quickly he turns away, back to the page on his desk. Drawing random lines on it to make it appear he’s doing something. Doing anything other than looking at you and gawking.

Why does he have to be so shy and embarrassing? Why can’t he be like the popular people like Bryce and Zach? They can just talk to everyone and just be confident all the time. He hates himself for his anxiety that is in the bottom of his stomach everytime anyone even breathes to close to him. He hates it so much th-

“Hey partner.” Rafe’s brought out of his spiral of thoughts when you speak to him. He’s frozen looking up at you, is this real? Or is he dreaming?

“H-hey.” He says, pushing up his glasses on his face as he adjust in his chair.

“So when we doing this project?”

“Anytime. Anytime that’s good for you, I’m free. Like all the time. I’m not doing…anything.” Rafe decides to stop himself from babbling and making himself look like a complete and utter loser.

But all you’re doing is smiling at him. Not pulling the disgusted face he’s use to.

“Tomorrow night? My place?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Cool, don’t have snap so I can send you the info?” You say as you pull out your phone. Waiting for him to respond to you.

Rafe rubs the back of his neck as he thinks how to reply to this. He couldn’t say that his mom doesn’t allow him to have social media and even if he was to have it he wouldn’t have enough friends anyway.

“No. I don’t use snap anymore.” He lies.

“Oh right okay. Insta? Tiktok?”

Rafe just shakes his head.

“I can give you my number?”

“Yeah sure okay.”

Rafe gets out his phone, a tiny phone that was probably made eight years ago that his mom told him was ‘cool and trendy’. She’s so wrong it almost hurts.

Rafe had been waiting and waiting for this day. Yes the plans were arranged yesterday but he’s just so excited it’s almost sad really.

But after making his way to your house and you giving him a tour of the mansion you live in. You’re now both sat on your bed.

He’s in your room.

On your bed.

“No you’ll have to tutor me.” You say as you smile before looking back at the work that’s in front of you. You’re laying on the bed as Rafe is sat stiff.

“Tutor you?” Rafe asks, adjusting his glasses again for the second time this minute.

“Well we’re doing this project and I don’t get what it’s about so you’ll have to help me.”

Earlier when Rafe started talking about the project he had presumed that he’d been doing it all himself like he’d usually do with other people. But you insisted you’d actually help. Even if you have been distracted a couple times.

“Yeah sure.” Rafe replies as he smiles, looking down at you. He’s rather close to you it’s making his heart beat so fast. If it beats any faster it’ll pop out his chest like in those cartoons. His eyes might also pop out his head too. We’re just waiting for that.

God he’s so close to you he can smell that perfume you wear every day to school. It hasn’t changed since the first time he met you.

He’s just watching you lay on your stomach on the bed, writing down some things. He just can’t seem to pull his eyes away from you. You just look so beautiful and calm. Of course he has to go and ruin it.

He’s just staring, and before he thinks he leans in and kisses you. His soft lips pressing against yours until he realises what’s happened and pulls back.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He says as he starts panicking. Of course he’s ruining things like he always does. He may be smart when it comes to academics but he’s so stupid when it comes to social situations.

But all you do is smile. Just smile at him before pushing up and climbing onto his lap.

“Oh, oh. Okay…” He says as he holds his breath and looks anywhere but you. His hands don’t touch you. Just in the air, frozen in place by this very unexpected action from you.

So you place his hands on yours hips looking at him before your hands are placed on his cheeks. Gently rubbing them as you look down at him.

“You have a crush on me Rafe?”

Rafe nods as he stares into your eyes. He’s too shy to say anything, and also incredibly aroused by having you here. On his lap. His hand sneaks as he brings it close to his face to adjust his glasses. He look looks up at you like a puppy.

He’s so cute and shy it makes him all the more attractive to you. Some people think he’s all these things but unknown to him you’ve always had some feelings for him. Even if you did try and stop them.

Your hand travels downs Rafe’s body until it reaches his zipper. His dick twitching in his pants as he lets out a low whine. He’s so pathetic it’s so hot to you.

“You want me to touch you Rafe?”

This has escalated very quickly, and as scary it is to Rafe. It’s very exciting for Rafe too. He’s never even held hands with a girl. Or spoken to one for longer than thirty minutes. Twenty minutes. Ten minutes at best.

“Yes please.” He whines out as he wriggles lightly underneath you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He has thought about thus situation before but this is not how he was expecting at all.

You smile as you start to kiss him, lips pressing softly against Rafe’s. His lips are soft, different to what you’ve kissed before. Your tongue slips into his mouth which is met by more whines from the boy underneath you.

Your hand slips into Rafe’s pants and before he can say a word you start to stroke him. His dick hard and leaking with precum. He feels slightly embarrassed but that’s quickly stopped as you begin to go faster. And all he can think about is how good it feels and how much better it is than his own hand.

The moans and whimper from this man is heavenly. Making those panties you chose to wear just for him wet.

“Please, please can I cum?” Rafe is begging for this. Begging for this release from you. His whole body is practically shaking. He knows he’s acting needy and pathetic. But he can’t help it. He’s practically brainwashed by you.

He’s a man who could genuinely have any job he’s ever wanted but here he is whining for you. Whinging and moaning and begging. A possible future president is begging to cum.

“Yeah baby. Cum for me.”

You will definitely be doing this again.

a/n: don’t know how to feel about this one and i am still upset over bae’s eyebrows.

[makeitmakesomesense]

The Early Morning

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Day 5: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 5th of January, which is 'blind'.

It is just past the middle of the night. You have officially entered the early morning. You find yourself awake. You went to sleep right after your last mission. This is your consequence. 

You don’t try to fight it, instead you roll out of your bed and make your way to get something to drink. Ever since Vision and Wanda have become part of the Avengers, things have been a little different. You’ve all done your best to welcome them to the team, but they have kept to themselves far more than you expected. The changing dynamics have been something to adjust to.

You let yourself enjoy the easy peace of the quiet nighttime. 

You walk to the kitchen and freeze for a second. 

Wanda is sitting at the dining table. Her hair is wet. Her face is ashen and her hands are cupping a hot mug of tea. Her eyes flit wearily to you. 

You hesitate, not sure how to approach. You’ve never spoken to her alone.

‘You okay?’

Wanda turns back to her tea, she doesn’t answer. 

You watch the ends of her hair drip onto the tiled floor. 

You refill the kettle and turn it on. You take a seat next to her. 

Wanda’s wearing a grey sweater. It’s too big for her. The sleeves have ridden up and her forearms are exposed. Goosebumps coat her skin. 

You try again. Something more direct. 

‘Are you cold?’

Wanda’s eyes meet yours and you know that she is. 

The kettle boils and you stand up, your hand touches her shoulder as you pass by. You feel her shudder.

You bring her a new mug. The steam curls promisingly above the liquid. Wanda leans over it. Her hands wrap around the ceramic, even though it must be burning hot. She shudders again and closes her eyes.

You sit next to her with your own mug and think.

Dim light seeps through the large windows and illuminates Wanda’s face. Her eyes have dark shadows under them. You can tell she must not be sleeping. You wonder where Vision is.

As if she can read your thoughts (and you can’t help wondering if she can). Wanda answers your silent question.

‘Viz doesn’t sleep. Not like people do. It’s more... robotic.’

You picture immediately a long cable connecting the android to a computer. You push down the ridiculous image that's probably not so far from the truth. You nod at Wanda silently encouraging her to continue. 

‘At night, he goes offline. Really offline. Missiles could go off and he’d be blind to it.’

You try to understand the subtext of Wanda’s words. There’s a strange suspense to your next question, it is the possibility that she might say yes. 

‘Do you worry about that? About missiles going off?’

Wanda smiles at you. Her head tilts. It could be playful if her eyes weren’t full of pain. 

‘It’s all I worry about.’

You give a half smile back, you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

‘I’ve done all my sleeping for tonight.’ You tell her carefully. ‘If you want someone there… someone awake. I was going to watch a movie anyway and I can put on headphones.’

Wanda takes her first sip of the slowly cooling tea. 

‘Thank you.’ She says a moment later, her small smile now weighted with relief.

Wanda follows you back to your room that night. She waits for you to prop some pillows against the headboard and lie back on one side of the bed. She falls readily onto the other side of the mattress. 

She’s not self conscious, not like you’d half expected. 

She sinks into the bed like it’s been calling her for days. You listen to her breathing even out before you put on your headphones.

.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Your new sleep schedule is not nearly as difficult as you expect. You switch your mindless after-dinner screen time with an early nap.

Wanda knocks on your door in the early hours of each morning. You plug in some headphones and watch whatever film you can think of.

Wanda lies beside you. Now that the worst of the sleep deprivation has abated, she is slower to fall asleep. Sometimes you even talk for a few minutes, about the day before or the film you’re planning to watch. 

It’s easy to talk to Wanda, much easier than you ever expected. You try to understand the distance she’s always kept from everyone on the team except Vision.

Each morning, you wait patiently for the inevitable long pause in coversation, for the moment that her eyelids slowly start to close. 

There is something comforting about her steady breathing beside you.

It is too easy to be comfortable. Despite your best efforts, it only takes a week for you to become lulled to near sleep yourself. 

You’re not quite asleep, you’re still following along with the dialogue from the movie. But your mind has drifted and your eyes have closed. 

They fly open at the first feeling of movement beside you. You startle suddenly as you understand your inadvertent mistake. You move backwards unthinkingly and hit your head sharply on the edge of the headboard.

You hiss out and apologise automatically. 

Wanda is still lying in the bed next to you, she has turned to face you. Her head is resting on the pillow. She looks exhausted with a different kind of fatigue. She sits up very carefully, as if her presence is inherently scary.

You don’t know how to explain. That your automatic panic came only from the disorientation of nearly falling asleep by mistake. 

Wanda speaks before you can. Her mouth twists into the same bitter smile that you’ve seen once before. She is watching you rub the sore spot at the back of your head.

‘It’s your amygdala.’ She explains.

‘What?’ You ask unsurely.

‘That’s why you’re afraid.’ 

‘My amygdala.’ You repeat dumbly.

‘Yes. Vision explained it once. It’s what makes you afraid of me, even if you don’t want to be.’ Her words are rehearsed. They sound calm but you can hear something else simmering behind them. ‘Your amygdala knows the danger that comes with being near me.’

‘And what about Vision’s amygdala?’ You ask sharply, suddenly hating the implications of her words. ‘How does he manage?’

‘It’s synthetic.’ 

‘That’s lucky.’ You comment dryly.

She stares at you seriously. An overwhelming loneliness fills her eyes. 

‘Yes.’ Wanda says quietly, looking down at the bedspread. ‘It is.’

You watch Wanda leave. 

.

You spend the day caught between a wish to apologise and a lingering uncertainty that something else is wrong. Something more complicated than you’d realised.

You seek out Natasha in the end, trusting her advice and needing someone to speak to. You find her as she’s leaving a boardroom after a meeting. She invites you back into the room and you sit together. You start to tell her about Wanda. You try to state the facts. The sleep deprivation. Vision’s words. Her isolation from the team. 

You hope you don’t sound biased, you hope your concern doesn’t seem excessive.

Natasha’s lips twist and you can tell she doesn’t like the details either. She tells you other things, small moments she’s noticed. Their separate meals from the rest of you. His frequent appearances in Wanda’s room without warning. How it's the one thing he can’t seem to learn not to do. A sudden lengthy monologue about the benefits of Stark’s technology, unaware of Wanda stiffened posture beside him.  

You exchange a long look with Natasha, it holds something that you recognise in your bones.

You decide to worry together. 

.

That night you find Wanda before the time she usually comes to your room. It is just past midnight and she is sitting at the dining table. Her dark hair is wet again. 

She startles violently when you call her name. Her shoulders relax immediately as she turns to find you. 

Wanda stands suddenly and moves to the kitchen counter. You watch her refill the kettle and turn it on. She takes out two mugs. She smiles at you again. There’s relief in it. 

‘Good evening.’ She says at last. Her fingers tap out a steady rhythm against the marble countertop. 

She notices you watching and her hand stills suddenly. She stares down at her fingers. Her mouth closes and her jaw ticks. She is lost in thought. You know she is remembering your last encounter.

This time, you speak first. You start slowly.

‘I’m not afraid of you.’ You tell her carefully. 

Wanda doesn’t look up. You watch the familiar bitter smile that makes your gut twist unhappily.

‘Then you are not paying attention.’ She says simply. 

‘I am.’ You counter stubbornly. 

‘We can’t change who we are.’ Her voice is monotone and you can tell that she is quoting someone else. ‘We can’t relinquish the dangers that comes with our power.’

‘But we can always have family.’ Your argument is quiet. ‘We can still have love and care. We can forgive ourselves for who we are.’

Wanda goes very still. After a moment, she reaches for the kettle that has now boiled. You watch her pour the water into the two waiting mugs.

‘Vision -’ She begins at last, looking at you unsurely. ‘It’s hard’

‘What is?’ 

She hands you a mug of tea and you watch her grip her own drink like it’s a life support system. 

‘He would never do the things I’ve done.’ Her voice cracks with barely repressed guilt. ‘It can be hard to not feel alone.’ 

You drink your tea and watch her for a moment. Wanda's breathing is shallow. Her pupils have dilated in the dim light. Her dark eyes are watching you, waiting. 

‘I would’ve.’ You confess softly. ‘If I’d been you. I think I would have done the same things.’

A thousand emotions flit through Wanda's expression. It settles somewhere between fear and longing.

You move forward and place your mug on the countertop, carefully you take Wanda’s from her too. When her hands are free, you hold them gently in your own. 

She grips them tightly. You can feel her shaking. 

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ You offer softly. ‘Just for a few days. We can borrow a car. We can go right now.’

Wanda is so close to you now. You feel the hitch in her breath as you much as you hear it.

Wanda’s expression fills with the same look of longing and she glances outside at the full moon that is brightening the darkest part of the night. 

‘Viz’ll wake up soon.’ She hesitates. ‘He hates it when I leave this place.’

You shake your head. You give her a small smile. ‘Natasha said they’re using his offline time tonight to update some of his old programming. Getting rid of some of the biases that Tony created back when it was only Jarvis.’

You pause. Wanda is looking at you like the world is something new again.

‘We have time.’ You tell her and it feels like a promise. 

Her small smile is full of sudden happiness.

Wanda leans forward and her head rests against your shoulder. There is a weightlessness to her tired relief.

You are grateful that your amygdala is very real. That you can feel this entirely.

‘Okay’ She says finally against your shirt. ‘Do you mind if I sleep while you drive?’

You laugh and wrap your arms around her. The wet ends of her hair drip onto your arms.

You leave the Compound before the sun has risen.

.

.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

.

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt

Part 2

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Part 1

Part 3

Schlatt remembers the day he met you like it was yesterday. He started at a middle school away from most of the friends he had in elementary school. This meant that he didn’t have any friends, but he did his best to not let it affect him. One day at lunch time, he sat by himself as he had for the past two weeks. Then out of nowhere, this kid came and sat by him. “Hi I’m (Y/N), you’re Jonathon right?” You had asked.

He just nods. He had seen you in class before. He was really curious as to why you were sitting by him while everyone else had left him alone.

“Cool. Nice shirt,” you tell him. He looks down at the Mario Kart shirt his mom had bought him from Target.

“Thanks,” he said. “Do you play?”

“Yeah, I play on the Wii and my DSi. I play as Peach. Not because she’s a girl, but because she’s cool. Also my little brother has taken over Yoshi.”

From that moment, you and Schlatt became best friends. You were even the one who came up with the nickname, Schlatt. His nicknames for you changed over the years but it ultimately landed on Bub/Bubba and Toots. The latter started as a joke but it stuck.

Schlatt has been with you for every phase of your teenage life: the one direction phase that he thinks never went away, your “emo” phase, your trying to fit in phase, and your party college phase. While many people found you to be completely ridiculous and sometimes over the top, Schlatt stuck by your side. He knew they didn’t get to see the real you. The one who likes playing video games and watching shitty musicals.

You were also with him through everything. You were there when he started making videos and you became his first subscriber. Neither of you imagined that he would blow up the way he did. When he started streaming on Twitch, the both of you knew something big was about to happen especially after SMPlive. He always talked to you first to flesh out ideas on the Dream SMP during his presidential reign.

Schlatt was always appreciative of how supportive you were with everything he did. He loved having someone who wasn’t attached to anything online. Someone who didn’t care how much money he made or how famous he got. Maybe that’s why he started developing feelings for you.

It wasn't always a thing. Perhaps the feelings were always there, but he hadn’t really noticed them until a few years ago. Back in High School, when you complained about being single, he had wondered why no one wanted to be with you. You were real, funny, and attractive. But he always made sure to assure you that everyone you went to school with sucked and were all fucking stupid anyways.

The feelings really started making themself evident when he moved to Austin. He had surrounded himself with just content creators and was working all the time. When he was extra stressed, Schlatt would call you on Discord. No matter what you were doing, you stopped everything to simply talk and play games with him.

“Don’t you have midterms?” he would ask while you created a house on Minecraft.

“Yeah, but they can wait. I feel confident that I’ll pass them. If I don’t, I’ll just sell pictures of my feet until I can afford to start again,” you tell him.

He smiles to himself. Something about how normal you are makes his heart skip a beat. You could have brought up the money he makes but no you resorted to talking about selling pictures of your feet. “Your feet are ugly. Don’t think they would make you much profit.”

Conversations like these made him realize that he had to leave the hell hole of Austin and move back to New York. Back to you. Now he felt happy again getting to spend as much time with you as possible.

His crush was so embarrassing that all his online friends know about you. They also make a point to bring it up when he’s not filming. “How’s your partner, Schlatt?” Astro asks, before they start filing for Sleep Deprived.

“They aren’t my partner,” Schlatt says.

“Not yet,” Mika adds.

Schlatt sighs. He knows you’ll never feel the same way about him that he feels for you. He’s not the Jonathan you want. He’s not Jonathan Groff or Jonathan Bailey. He’s just Schlatt, your best friend, nothing else.

Schlatt decides to ignore his feelings and just play Stardew Valley. While playing, he sees that you sent him a snap. It’s just a picture of you holding a Rammie plushie with the caption, “my new best friend because mine is busy working like a loser.”

He smiles like a loser at his phone and takes a screenshot. It takes everything in him to not tell you how cute you are. Instead he sends a photo of his forehead with a simple, “fuck you”.

Schlatt’s attention goes back to the screen. “Who the fuck stole my Persian Rugs?” he asks, when his character wakes up.

After a few hours of recording, he decides to call you on Discord. You answer quickly. “Sup Fucker?” You say over the call. “You done working?”

“Yeah I just finished filming for Sleep Deprived. What are you up to?” Schlatt asks, happy to hear your voice.

“Currently playing Balatro then I’m going to work on crocheting a blanket. I’m also watching New Girl.”

He admired how talented you were. Always working on something new. He loved how creative you were in everything you did. “What watch of New Girl is this now?”

“I think 6, maybe 7. I’ve lost count. With every watch, you can tell how obvious that Jess and Nick are end game. Nick is so in love and Jess is oblivious. It’s hilarious. How could anyone be that stupid?” You laugh.

Schlatt lets out a choked laugh. “Yeah it’s crazy.”

“If I were to fancast Chuckle Sandwich for New Girl. Tucker is Winston because duh, Charlie is Coach since he was there at the beginning and shows up every now and then, Ted is Schidmt, and you’re Nick.”

“Oh is that so? Who’s Jess then?”

“Obviously I’m not a part of the crew, but probably me since she’s my spirit animal,” you tell him.

“That’s interesting,” he says, wondering if you noticed what you said. It’s obvious you didn’t make a connection.

“Oh did you see that Grace is engaged and Molly is pregnant?” You change the subject, not even meaning to.

“No I didn’t. I don’t follow anyone from high school anymore and I couldn’t care less.”

“That’s fair, but how do these bitches find their soulmate and make babies? It’s so ugh!”

“They will probably get a divorce in three years and I doubt the guys they are with are much better than them,” he says. He wishes you wouldn’t worry about people that don’t matter to either of you.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Did I tell you about my new friend, Paige from work?”

“No I don’t think you did. What about her?” He is confused why you are bringing up some random girl. He really hopes she’s not a new crush of yours. He couldn’t handle you crushing on a person you know.

“I think you should get to know her. I think the two of you would really hit it off. She played softball and she is just overall cool. I can give you her number.”

It’s worse than he thought. You weren’t into her, you thought he would be. This was a recurring thing that Schlatt despised every time it happens. He doesn’t want to go on a date with some random girl. He wants you, but he can’t let you know that. “Maybe. I’m still not really wanting to date. I want to focus on my career and the new projects I’m working on,” Schlatt tells you. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the complete truth either. If he was going on a date with you, it’d be a different story.

“Oh okay. I told her you were a busy guy. She just sounded like someone you’d be into.”

He can tell he made you slightly upset and that’s his least favorite thing to do. “Thank you for thinking of me, Bub,” he tells you. “What are your plans tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. Just crafting probably. Did you have something in mind?” You ask.

He didn’t have any plans, but he wanted to spend time with you. Being away from you, made him want to hang out with you as much as possible. Even if it was as simple as watching a movie or playing with the cats. He sometimes imagines the two of you living together. Getting to spend as much time as possible doing the most mundane things would make him so happy.

“I can order some sushi and we can do that coloring thing you told me about,” he says, hoping you’d be down to come over.

“Sure. When should I come by? Do I need to bring my pajamas?” You ask.

“Uh sure if you want to stay over. We both know you’ll be in leggings or shorts though, so you might not need them.”

“Good point. If anything I’ll steal some of your clothes,” you tell him, nonchalantly.

Schlatt feels a lump in his throat thinking of how big his clothes would be on you. You’d probably suffocate in them, but he’s sure you’d look damn cute. “Yeah, sure,” He stammers out. “I’m done working so come by whenever.”

“Alright see you soon.” You hang up before he can say anything else.

Schlatt starts feeling giddy like a little girl waiting for your arrival. He starts picking up what he can. He checks himself out in the mirror, fluffing up his hair a bit. He applies a little bit of cologne. When he goes back to the living room, he sees Jambo judging him. “I’m a fucking disaster. Aren’t I?”

Jambo just meows in agreement. Schlatt sighs, he wonders how long he can unrequitely love you. He’s sure it’s going to kill him before he confesses. He knows that it will be best to just wallow in his self pity instead of fucking up your friendship.

A doorbell ringing interrupts him. He trips on his way to opening the door. When he opens it, he expects to see your pretty face, but that’s not who’s on the other side. “Surprise,” Ted says on the other side of the door.

Schlatt just stares at him in disbelief. He sees you walk behind them. “Am I interrupting something?” You ask.

“The infamous (Y/N), I’ve heard so much about you!”

Schlatt knew in that moment that he was royally fucked.

A/N: another late night post! But I can’t stop writing. I’m going to be so sad next week when I have to go back to work. Reader is general neutral, but I may add some fem! stuff. Also the ending just popped in my brain last minute! Hope you all enjoy!! Thanks for reading!!

[shadamyheadcanons]

i love that you don’t put sonic as a jerk in your headcannons but rather supportive! this is so cool, because sonic really wants all of his friends to be happy and with amy wouldn’t be different, specially since they’ve known each other since they were children and sonic himself said that she is a special/dear person to him so i agree he would be happy if amy and shadow got together. as much as i love sonamy, i also love shadamy (sorry for the long ask it’s just that is not that common seeing sonic being portrayed like this in some ffs)

Thanks for the compliment! This one means a lot because I think I’m actually harsher toward Sonic sometimes than a lot of modern shadamy writers are. I say “modern” because new “Amy goes for Shadow because Sonic is a jerk” stories are actually few and far between. It’s easy to think they’re all over the place because there absolutely are a lot of them, but the ones I run into are usually from, like...2012. If you sort by Date Updated on AO3, it tells a different story, pun intended. I believe there are three main reasons for this:

1. Since half of shadamy fans started shipping them in SA2 two and a half decades ago, a ton of us are in our 30s now, writing more mature stories with more fine-tuned characterization. This is one of the advantages of having an ancient ship.

2. It’s a tired trope. We’ve all read a million of them. Most people don’t like how Sonic acts in them for his sake, but my biggest gripe is that they undersell what Shadow has to offer. He’s not just good for Amy because he’s Not Sonic, he’s good for her because of who he is.

3. Sonic treats Amy much better than he used to. The reason “Sonic is a jerk” fics were so common 10-20 years ago is because he was a jerk, almost exclusively to Amy.

These fics exist because no other character works better than Shadow as an arbiter of justice for something that bothered a lot of Amy fans at the time.

More on this under the cut. Lots more. I got kind of carried away.

It’s easy to forget how bad Sonic was when we have games like Frontiers and comics like IDW and Mega Drive now:

Between new fans who aren’t as familiar with older games, longtime fans who haven’t looked at their history in a while, and fans who love Sonic and just don’t want to see him in a bad light, tons of people sweep his old behavior under the rug without even realizing it.

I don’t think any of that is fair to Amy.

A brief reminder of their dynamic in the past:

1. Constant abandonment. He ran from her in Sonic Adventure...

...Sonic Heroes...

And four times in SA2 alone! More on that later.

2. Standing her up on dates. This mostly happened in Sonix X...

[Episode 42, episode 45]

...but there was also Sonic and the Black Knight, where he didn’t show up, didn’t apologize, never made it up to her, and made no attempt to reschedule.

3. Uh...literally hurting her, for some reason...?

At the end of Sonic Riders, when he didn’t feel like properly handling a hostage situation:

Oh, welcome back, episode 42! Didn’t expect to see you again:

The new version of Sonic Generations altered this cutscene, thank god, but back in 2011, players saw this:

4. And the worst part of this, to me, is that he lets her get her hopes up. It’s not just the almost-dates he skips. Knuckles teases Sonic in Heroes, saying, “Are you playing with that girl’s heart again, Sonic?” It’s intended as a joke, but then he does things like this:

Sonic X, episode 52. You know what roses are, Sonic, you know how she’ll interpret this, and you know you won’t follow through.

I know I’m picking on Sonic X a lot, but it was pretty popular at the time, even among fans who didn’t touch the games or comics. This was how they saw these characters growing up, and it made its way into countless fics.

But even after all these years, no matter which continuity you work with...he still won’t give her a solid “no.”

Not liking someone back is fine. Not being interested in a relationship is fine. But letting her believe she’ll win you over if she chases you long enough isn’t, and that’s what he’s doing to this day.

Fans throw around the same tired old “justifications” over and over for why he is/was like this to Amy, but they don’t hold water. People say he’s mean because he doesn’t know what to do with his feelings for her, but he liked Elise, too, and he was nothing but kind to her.

(Putting this here because although fans don’t like to admit it, Elise was indeed intended to be a love interest. She and Amy are presented on par here, so if you think he likes Amy, then he liked Elise, too. You get exactly the same result regardless of who you choose for this trial.)

The other frequent “justification” is that he ran and lashed out because he was afraid of her, often accompanied by awful Amy hate (“stalker,” “psycho,” etc.). This also doesn’t work because Sonic was always harsh to Amy no matter how gentle she was. Classic Amy is the sweetest, most adorable little munchkin in the world...

...and he still ran away.

^ These are from the same exact comic, by the way: IDW Sonic’s 30th anniversary. Five pages apart. How in the world could anyone not want her around?

Amy had more spunk in Adventure and Adventure 2, but she was just as sweet, and he still treated her like a pest to be swatted. The ending of her story in SA1 is this:

But...why should she have to? He treats everyone else with the same baseline of respect, at least until they give him a reason not to. Why is it just Amy? He wasn’t just mean to her, he was uniquely mean to her. She didn’t act out until Heroes in 2003, when she’d already been ignored for years. Standing on the sidelines wasn’t working, so she tried being more “proactive.” Was it the right way to do things? No...but I honestly can’t hold it against her. It makes sense in context. She was a kid, and kids act out when they’re neglected.

And this is where Sonic Adventure 2 comes in.

SA2 was pivotal for Amy. Nearly everyone tossed her aside; Sonic left her behind four separate times in this game alone. First was right after she broke him out of jail on Prison Island. He ran off the second her back was turned:

Second, he and Tails both walked away from her after Eggman blew up the moon. She easily could’ve gotten arrested here.

Third, Sonic and Tails made a plan to stop Eggman right in front of her, blatantly leaving her out of it as if she wasn’t even there:

...which, if you’ll recall, led to Eggman holding her at gunpoint:

...and when Sonic set out to rescue her, this was his recap:

This does not work as a joke given how they treat her. He pretends she doesn’t exist to her face, then says this behind her back.

And immediately after that, when it was time for them to save the world, they left her alone again.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I was furious by that point.

But then...something interesting happened.

A photoset or gifset can’t do this scene justice, but I think most shadamy fans have already seen it plenty of times. For the few who haven’t, you can watch it here.

The contrast between Shadow and Sonic is impossible to ignore. By building up this moment the way they did, the writers primed us to notice it.

Sonic runs from Amy’s hugs, while Shadow would like more of them, please and thank you.

Sonic pretends she doesn’t exist, while Shadow’s moved to tears and changes the course of his life because he values what she has to say.

Anytime they’ve interacted since then, he’s been uniquely respectful and gentle with her. It’s what she deserves, and for a long time, this was all we had. He was all we had.

The other half of the equation is that it is very, very easy to picture Shadow taking Sonic and the others to task for their mistreatment of her. As a blunt person who’s not afraid to confront Sonic, Shadow is the most believable candidate to this day. The only person to fully respect her from the start also happens to clash with the person who hurts her most often? Of course those fics exist. It’s a perfect storm.

And it’s no wonder that this attitude persists somewhat even now, because Sonic is still doing this, even if he’s “nicer” about it. That prison escape from SA2? The one he never thanked her for? He still gives all the credit to Tails for that, even up through Frontiers:

Amy. Amy broke you out of prison. Tails broke in, and then she snuck through a maximum-security prison, somehow stole a card key, and saved your life. We’re in the 2020s, but he’s still disrespecting her. And don’t get me started on the TailsTube Secret Santa episode.

It feels like Sega wants us to forget all of this ever happened, and it has some very confusing results. From that same Sonic 30th anniversary comic from above, the one where he and the others abandoned her:

Like...this? This is lying. He’s just lying to her. I can’t tell if they think we all collectively have amnesia or if it’s some weird, mean-spirited joke at her expense. I genuinely don’t know what they’re trying to say.

It’s not enough to pretend it never happened and move on, not to me. Sonic should be held responsible for what he canonically did. Him supposedly being bad with feelings didn’t make it hurt her any less, and he’s older than Amy, so he should’ve been the mature one.

The longer the writers keep this up, the worse Sonic looks, and I don’t think that’s what they’re aiming for. Ignoring the problem is not a solution. Amy might forgive, but I’ll never forget.

I just want to see a canon apology so I can reason out why she put up with it for so long. I want to at least be able to buy her having a crush on him. I can do that when he’s being selfless and heroic. I can’t do that when he treats her like the plague, and pretending he never did doesn’t match the Sonic I legitimately like. I bet a lot of s0namy fans would like to see a resolution like that, too.

Sorry to turn your thoughtful compliment into a rant. I really do appreciate it, and I’m glad you enjoy the stories!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

miss raven, i must ask:

what is your opinion on the overblot monsters as a hear me out👀❓

I wasn't sure if this anon meant the Phantom designs or the OB designs themselves when they said "overblot monsters", so I decided to go ahead and drop my opinions on both things. (And if you want my opinion on the non-OB boys and non-OB boys' Phantoms... they're okay? I have no particular commentary to impart on those.)

My personal Phantoms ranking:

My favorite Phantom design is, hands down, Idia’s. I love how it is composed of shapes that closely resemble the style of the Hercules film, notably the arms and fingers. The collar and head resemble a flaring flame while the wrists seem to resemble Greek columns. But the detail I love the most is how the Phantom's arms and body seem to be made of other Phantoms' busted heads. It's really clever visual storytelling, as this tells us about how Ortho lived in Tartarus with the other Phantoms, how he wants them all to be 'friends' with Idia and the rest of the world, etc. This Phantom in of itself just has so much story significance and even seems to be alluded that the multitude of Phantoms in Tartarus yoink Idia (seen at the end of the Ignihyde CM). This Phantom also has a special physical connection to the OB boy in its design; Idia it literally hooked up to his Phantom with wires, symbolizing his close connection to it. (I didn't see something similar in the other Phantoms, but I do know in the light novel Leona is said to be attached to his Phantom by a blot chain on his ankle.)

I find the designs of Riddle, Azul, and Jamil’s Phantoms cool. They resemble their Disney inspirations, but have one or two flairs that make the designs their own. Riddle's Phantom has spade-shaped spikes protruding from its back and wields a rose tree like a hammer to deliver twisted justice. Azul's Phantom has a crown and trident, which is reminiscent of Ursula once she has robbed them from King Triton. It also has a collar that looks like coral branches jutting out and I enjoy how the ink looks like it is dripping down and forming the tentacles. Finally, Jamil's Phantom is inspired by Jafar's genie form on the torso but its lower half becomes coiled, patterned, and snake-like (like the viper form Jafar takes on when fighting Aladdin). It also has a collar unique to it.

I'm slightly disappointed with the Phantoms of Leona, Vil, and Malleus. These literally just look like the original Disney villains that they are trying to emulate, but with very few changes made to them outside of the stitches and the shape of the glass bottle heads. I do like that Vil's Phantom is the hag version of the Evil Queen (which demonstrates her inner ugliness) and how Malleus's phantom is Maleficent's dragon form (which is just cooler overall) with more exaggerated spines, but this doesn't change the fact that the designs aren't that special.

My personal OB design ranking:

I think Leona and Idia’s designs look cool for the most part.

Pretty much the only thing I dislike about Leona’s is the bare feet, which are easily ignored since the game usually only shows us the torso up. Everything else is gucci o3o)bb Slicked back hair, check! corset that calls attention to his Dorito chip shaped-body, check! The jewelry and extra stuff tied around his waist isn't too cluttered or in the way and coordinates well color-wise. Ah, also... AND I KNOW NONW OF YOU PEOPLE WILL BELIEVE ME BUT I FEEL LIKE I AHVE TO STATE THIS FOR MY OWN SANITY. I didn't realize he was shirtless for a long ass time 😭 I JUST THOGUHT THAT MANE WAS A FLUFFY SHIRT OR CROP TOP OR SOMETHING... I know the truth now, and (at the cost of sounding like Rollo) I'm thankful that the mane exists to cover up Leona's bare chest because I do NOT wanna see that out and about.

Idia has the most "different" vibes to his design, and I have to commend him for that. He looks like some futuristic gremlin come to destroy us all, especially when his electronic mask thing simulates new expressions for him. It's neat how the new armor he's equipped with sharpens his features so he, like his Phantom, more closely resembles the art style of Hercules, and there's just enough blue to balance out the black (and same with the orange-red when he gets mad). My favorite part of OB Idia has to be the lower half; it forms a cool vortex that makes me think of the lost souls swirling around in Tartarus.

I like Riddle’s well enough, but I think it’s less of me actually enjoying the look altogether and more of me having nostalgia for it + liking the Alice in Wonderland details in it. I love the ink webbing (especially in the face and its accessories), the gradient flowers decorating his hips, and the cards spilling out. However, I will admit that the design is very busy and chaotic for the head and the lower half (and maybe that was intentional), so it's hard for my eyes to know what to focus on whenever I see OB Riddle.

Azul, Vil, and Malleus are trying but look sort of awkward in several areas:

I like the shoulders and face for Azul, but below that is all downhill; I've never been a fan of his merform, and that really comes through here. The bottom half just looks kinda unadorned (which makes sense; clothing would limit his mobility). Still... it makes most of him look really uninteresting. Not only that, but his tentacles look wrong (though this is an issue with his general merform and not specifically the OB). They're way too short and the shape and size of them makes me think of inflatable mascots outside of used car dealerships.

I appreciate that Vil's OB design gives the vibes of him wandering into an abandoned castle and fastening together an outfit from a tattered curtain, but the end result is... lacking. The halo crown looks super heavy and impractical, the chest looks sort of bland compared to everything else, the waist has these really out of place protruding... spike... things???? And then there's the slapped-on looking peacock feathers on his legs and the odd feathers to blot textured cloak.

I like all the briar incorporated into Malleus’s OB even if the details are drowned out by the excessive black, but I’m not a fan of the neon green on his horns and tail. Malleus’s most focal points—his face and chest—also look kinda weird to me?? Normally I like slicked back hair, but it looks odd and almost balding on this character. The green/green-grey color of his skin is also unflattering and makes him look like a moldy cabbage.

Jamil and Grim (?) are very confused and unappealing.

In all honesty, the individual pieces of the outfit are okay?? I like the gold accessories + how the veil the skirt flares out. The recurring diamond patterns are are an interesting way to incorporate “scales” without having actual snakeskin. The literal snake hair has potential to be cute, but I hate Hate HATE how it’s styled as a turban (poor sentient hair snakes are probably all twisted up) and the little ink goatee 💀 Combined with everything else, he is way too over-designed no matter where you look. At least everyone else has their detailed elements better spread out… I think it might have looked better if it had like 1-2 less detailed elements and eradicate the goatee.

Grim (?) is a random mishmash of traits from the other OB boys. And it looks bad (even if the point is for nothing in the design to go together well). The worst part is the humanish front legs. No further comment.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@pamwritessometimes

I am so happy that you liked this one sweetie!🥰

The contrast between the magic of his childhood and the emptiness now is so beautifully done. I literally just want to hug him (and maybe throw the whole bottle away for him)! 🥺 The description of how the mansion went from magical to miserable is so vivid. I could feel the emptiness, and it makes you understand Ben’s pain so much more. Like, his dad being a mess and Ben turning to the bottle?

It hurt me to write so much sadness into his life 😭, but that's what the reader is for! To comfort him and make Ben feel loved 😊 I wanted to hug him the whole time too 😭. And thank you! I really like the idea that his family mansion has been sitting empty for years with no one taking care of it. It serves as it's own little headcanon in my head lol.

But then the jewelry store scene OH MY GAWD! When Hughie and Annie show up... that was hilarious. 😂 Ben trying to play it cool but failing miserably is so on-brand. Like,

RIGHT?? lol. He was guilty for no reason. Man was playing dumb to try and get away from Annie and Hughie 😂 Probably was about to fake amnesia to get out of that one lol. Why am I here? Oh wait what are all these sparkly things? 🤣

This level of care is so pure. And then Ben’s reaction? OOF. The way he holds it up, and reader starts second-guessing herself ... I started second-guessing myself lmaoo But then he’s like “You made me a sweater?” with so much emotion that I wanted to SCREAM. And that kiss? “Don’t you fucking dare.” YES, BEN, CLAIM YOUR SWEATER AND YOUR GIRL. 😭💖

She just HAD to make him a sweater! It's what she's good at lol. And it seemed really on brand for her to be a little scared of what Ben would think about getting a handmade gift instead of something really expensive 🥰. I will say that apparently there is a thing called "sweater curse" where you never make a sweater for your boyfriend because there's a superstition that you'll break up... BUT I'm going to pretend that this doesn't exist. I'm also not going to lie, earlier drafts of this story had a bit where the reader remembered Ben's angry reaction when she made a maroon sweater for Butcher's birthday and she realized that Ben was jealous... I took it out, but it lives rent free in my head LOL 😂

But oh yeah, I really liked imagining Ben's voice getting a little bit gruffer when he said that, and being unable to look at the reader because he didn't want to be too "emotional." It made me MELT. The man is SMITTEN 💗

And don't even get me started on the necklace and the pendant. The fact that Ben gave her something so deeply personal is EVERYTHING! Seeing Ben trusting the reader with somethin like this and being nervous gifting it... I'm not crying, really, this is just an intentionally smudged eyeliner.

I'm not going to lie, I too was agonizing over what Ben was going to get the reader for Christmas. He already got her a bookshelf, but writing the headcanon about his mom's jewelry was just too cute for me to pass up. I really liked it because I think it showed that Ben is starting to understand that his relationship with the reader is different and he is starting to understand that gifts don't have to be really expensive. Plus as you astutely said, Ben being a bit nervous to give it to her made me teary too lol.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY FRIEND! 🥰💗

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,  you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question. 

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

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[yanmuffins]

COUGH COUGH p&f reader thinking mabel has a crush on jon (← if he comes along, which he prob did) instead of damian and then getting all (oooh! it's a love trangle! the drama!) 'cause she thinks damian has a crush on mabel, who has a crush on jon, who has a crush on damian! and dipper it's just there- COUGH COUGH

(she fails to notice that jon wants her, not her brother, and mabel wants her brother, not his best friend turned into rival turned into ally, and again, dipper it's just there with his secret crush like, standing in the background with Perry-)

we are literally so close to recreating midsummer night’s dream by shakespeare 😭

tbh, this is a whole mess. i like to think that jon did not come along initially, but as soon as he heard damian mention that he was stuck in this ramshackle lumber town all the way in oregon (we'll go back to that) watching over his sibling and their friends, one of which behaves like a buffoon around them (damian would immediately catch up on dipper having a crush on p&f! reader, but he never outright says that), he just immediately flies there.

and what ensues is jon and dipper passive-aggressively fighting over p&f! reader while they're none the wiser, misinterpreting every interaction among the group for something incorrect. damian is looking at jon and dipper like this 🤨 because it's embarrassing how they're fighting over his sibling, he will be judgemental about it. mabel catches up on jon having a crush on p&f! reader, but since she's obviously team dipper (not just bc he's her family but, also bc pair of pine siblings + pair of wayne siblings, she just thinks it would be so cool!), she might try to get in jon's way by talking to him and diverging his attention somehwere else.

also, kind of unrelated, but i cannot stress enough that p&f! reader and damian are in OREGON, where gravity falls is supposed to be located. we don't really know exactly where gotham is supposed to be, but from what i've seen, the general consensus is that it is somewhere around new york. look at the distance:

i am POSITIVE that when p&f! reader asked bruce if they could spend a week or two at their friends' he assumed it was in metropolis, where p&f! reader used to live. or even in gotham. now imagine his surprise when he gives damian a call for whatever reason, to question him about something vigilante-related or to check up on him (... and reader), and he learns not one, but TWO of his children are almost THREE THOUSAND MILES (or FOUR THOUSAND KILOMETERS) away from home. and both damian and p&f! reader are so casual about it.

alternatively, bruce put a tracker on damian and p&f! reader before they left, did not check it for at least four days and when he finally did check, he just sees the two little red dots all the way in oregon and he's like. no, there must be some mistake. and then he calls damian and his children are indeed at the other side of the country.

he goes to pick them up personally.

[ffwriting]

Aot Characters - Having a crush

What I think the Aot Characters would be like when they have a crush bc why not!

cw: GN reader, slight Eremika (Mikasa), Eren and Connie being a chaotic duo (Armin), Bad self-thoughts (Levi), no y/n

wc: 2.2k

Characters: Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe

Eren Yeager - Oblivious, but jealous

Despite what I have seen for him, I do not think he would be that aware of his feelings.

He would be almost entirely oblivious, but he would get upset if he sees you hang out with someone else. If he had the opportunity to, he would watch you as you train. If he ever saw you get injured he would be very worried.

but…. he just can't see that he has a crush on you. He just thinks he feels that way because he admires you and wants to be your friend.

It would be like that the entire three years at the training camp, but the second he finds out hes a titan, he becomes so nervous about what you think about him, that the old Levi squad tells him to just tell you about his crush on you. And he would just be there like, "Huh? I don't have a crush on {name}! They are just really cool, and now they probably won't hang out with me now. They'll probably go hang out with Jean or something." He would say while mumbling

The old Levi squad would just share knowing looks with each other as they knew he had a crush on you but was just too oblivious to notice

Mikasa Ackerman - Quiet yet caring

Mikasa, as we see with Eren, is not the most vocal when talking about her feelings. She is very quiet, but she knows that she has a crush on you.

I feel like she is not one to start crushing someone based off of looks, but more of their personality. She would probably notice you during training when you either helped a friend, or got excited after doing a maneuver right. She would start off just calmly taking note of the event, but she would start to notice that she would look for you more and more. After maybe two days, she realized that she had a crush on you. What will she do now?

Speak to you about it? Confess? No.

She would make sure that you are safe. That is all she can do. She would probably be very confused because she thought she liked Eren, but now she is feeling the same way about you.

While she is figuring all of these feelings out, and kicking absolute ass, she would do everything she could do to protect you.

She would even find herself looking out for you more than she did Eren. That would be when she decided to chose which one of you to have a crush on. It would probably be after the 57th expedition, and she would realize that she cared about Eren in only a sisterly way. She likes you, and she just hopes you like her back

Armin Arlert - Nervous

Armin is definitely the type to get extremely nervous and flustered. However, I feel like he would be one of the ones to ask you out the earliest. Let me explain.

Armin would be in the 104th Cadet Corp. and all would be normal. Except on one of the first hand-to-hand combat practices he gets paired with you. He already hates the exercise, but he doesn't really know you, not to mention the fact that he really likes how you look. Not in a creepy way! Just in an 'I want to get to know more' way.

During the hand to hand combat practice you would notice after he tried to throw a couple punches, that he had no clue what he was doing. So you being you, you decided to be nice and walk him through the basics. How to throw a solid punch, how to dodge, and before you both noticed, training was over.

You then suggested eating dinner together, and while trying to go to bed that night, he realized that he really liked you. The realization alone is enough to make his face and even his ears feel hot.

After that, he couldn't hide a small blush on his face every time he talked to you, but you never pointed it out, and it made him really happy. The two of you would train together and sometimes talk to each other at lunch, and it went like that for months.

Until one day, Connie noticed and then told Eren that he suspected Armin liked you, which just led to chaos. That night in the boys' dorm the two confronted the poor boy about how much time he has been spending around you and how his cheeks are always pink when he even sees you. This, of course, flusters Armin to the point he isn't even able to form a coherent thought.

After a lot of them talking, totally not just Connie and Eren practically harassing Armin, they threaten convince him to ask you out. Which he does a week before your graduation.

(I love Armin. I think he is just a well-written character tbh :)

Jean Kirstein - Amires + Slightly Jealous

As we see in the show, he practically just admires from afar, and get jealous. Here is how I think it would go with you two.

On one of the first days of training, Jean starts to crush on Mikasa. The week after, Jean notices you. He would imediatally notice how you looked like you were made to wear a uniform because of how well you look in it. He almost immediately starts to crush on you, and the good thing for him, you aren't obsessed with Eren!

After like a month or two, he would have given up on Mikasa, and started to solely focus on you. He would start to get jealous anytime you would even look at a guy, and he would even catch himself getting jealous of girls. He would always try to brush it off, telling himself that people don't tend to like jealous guys. He can't help it though, he just wants to be the only one to make, and see, you be happy. Call it jealous or crazy, but he just couldn't help it.

I also feel like he would try to ask you out manyyyy times, but he would always chicken out after he sees you looking at him. This would happen a minimum of ten times before he was finally able to ask you out.

Connie Springer - Loud + Aware

I feel like Connie would be one of those guys who starts of just admiring you, whether that be for your kindness or skills, and then it would just develop into a crush. I feel like he would be very aware about it too.

After realizing that he got a crush on you, he would start trying to hang out with you more, whether that be in training or break time, he would always seek you out.

He would definitely be the type of guy to flirt and make jokes just to see you laugh. He would do anything just to know that you were laughing at his jokes.

I also feel like he is one of the few to actually end up asking you out.

It would be after the Battle of Trost, and your group was separated from the rest, all of you without gas. All of you would be just trying your best to fend off what Titans you could with what gas you all could spare, but you all had given up hope on making it out. Until, you see two people heading your way. It was Connie and Sasha.

Connie had been the one to notice your group from headquarters and dragged Sasha along to quickly supply you all with gas. He immediately would start working on your gas tanks with a small frown on his face. You asked "Are you okay?" and he would look up to meet your gaze and then all of a sudden bring you into a strong hug, and ask you, "Look, I know this isn't the best time, but after this would you please consider letting me be your boyfriend? After what I've seen today, I just couldn't live with myself if I never told you." You, obviously, say yes and give him a hug.

After that day he would be somehow even more happy. He had you after all.

Levi Ackerman - Tries to get rid of it

Levi, my gosh, this poor guy. With him growing up in the underground and being really detached from his emotions, he would try his hardest to get rid of any romantic feelings he ever has.

You would have joined the scouts years before him and were really good at teamwork. It wouldn't really matter if you are energetic or quiet, but Levi would notice how well you worked with others after just a couple of months of being in the Scouts.

He would start to feel weird, and he thought it was originally jealousy, but after seeing you get injured he felt a pang of sadness in his heart, and he realized that he had a crush on you.

He hated it. By that time, he had it in his mind that everyone he has ever loved, died because he cared for them. With that mindset, he quickly tried to pinpoint every unappealing feature that you had, but when that didn't work. He set out to make sure that you hated him. Why? He didn't really know, but he could deal with being hated. He couldn't however, deal with losing another person that he cared for. Especially because he had never really lost anyone he had romantic feelings for, and he didn't want to find out.

With that being said, as soon as he got a position with more authority than yours, he set out to make sure that you hated all that he made you do. He would assign you to cleaning chores every time he could. He would assign you more training and workouts than he would with others. Any opportunity he had, he would make sure to assign you something.

He was determined to make you hate him because if you hated him, then maybe it would be easier to try to stop liking you.

Hange Zoe - Excited + Talkative

Hange, our icon, is definitely aware. You would be a transfer, from either the Garrison or the MPs, and joined the Scouts out of curiosity of the Titans.

After the transfer, you would be asking the other, more experienced, members about all they knew about Titans. Soon the word got to Hange that there was someone interested in Titans and they just had to see for themselves.

Hange would scout you out and ask if you are the one curious about the Titans, "Hey! Are you {name}? The one interested in Titans?" After giving your response Hange would grab your wrist and drag you over to whatever their current workstation is, and lord help you if they currently have any titans.

They would ask what you were curious about and with your response, they start going on a tangent about whatever they can think of that would interest you. What would surprise them though, as well as start their crush on you, was that you continually asked them questions about their research. Which they happily told you about.

They talked and talked and you would ask questions until you both realized that it had gotten dark out. "Oh sorry about that, I tend to ramble a lot," Hange would try to apologize but would get cut off by your own response. "Don't! I'm the one that kept asking questions, plus I loved hearing you talk about it. How about you find me tomorrow, and we continue our conversation."

With a look of admiration on their face, Hange would nod their head and wave you off so you could go to bed. They then made a habit of coming to grab you whenever they could. The look on their face when they came to talk to you about a new discovery and you were just as excited as them was priceless.

After maybe a week after your first meeting, Hange realized that they liked you, and they would be somehow even more giddy around you and make sure that your questions were answered.

Their crush on you was very obvious to the other Scouts, and to you as well, but neither of you ended up asking. The funny thing is, both of you just came to a silent agreement that you both liked each other and started dating without ever asking the other.

You both would only realize after a couple years, and Hange would randomly blurt out on one of your late-night discussions, "Wait, I never asked you out!"

After a couple moments of silence, both of you erupted in laughter. Hange would then dramatically grab your hand and ask "Would you please go out with me, my love?"

Of course, you would say yes, and the two of you would laugh for the next couple of hours because you were just so in tune with each other that you forgot to make it official, even after multiple years.

You were just made for each other.

I hope you enjoy this! This is actually my first time writing like this so I hope it is good! Also let me know if you think any of the characters came off as ooc!

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION #385032: Shape-shifting genitals, mouth-mashing skillsets, who taps out first in the bedroom and the 17 different types of meat this guy eats.

I TRIED TO MAKE THIS A BIG ONE. Thank you everybody for your patience!

The truth of the matter is that I need one dramatic light-source or I will perish. HOWEVER...

Yeah, they seem the type to leave it purposefully ajar for the thrill of it. As well as the excuse to bring hell down upon anyone caught trying to steal a peek.

YES, actually! I've had the concept for a comic or two that's precisely about interactions they've had while younger. Comics take a lot of work, and there's a LOT of things I want to do, but that is definitely in the plans.

Yes! Or rather, as a shapeshifter, I believe she doesn't bother with them 99% of the time, possibly never, even though she has the habitability to form them if she so wished. The Orin DU drow knew was always doll-like in appearance when nude, and he did not particularly mind it or fantasized about anything different.

I believe this is both a preference in Orin's part (and across many shapeshifters, if I recall correctly) as well as a strategic choice.

And thank you so much!

[MORE BELOW THE CUT]

I don't know, kissing isn't that hard LOL I think they're pretty even-leveled in technique but Astarion is the tonguier one.

ALL IN DUE TIME, MY FRIEND, ALL IN DUE TIME...

Maybe 😊 🤫though I'm not sure how useful his powers would be in that context.

That said, Indeed! The irony of this match isn't lost on anyone. I'm sure Astarion would have some thoughts about the convenience of it.

I know this is more of a jokey message, but I don't think Astarion would be cool with that sort of thing, and DU drow most definitely wouldn't ask 😂

Whatever works, as he would probably say!

Astarion got drunk through DU drow on occasion while he still fed on him, yes LOL I don't care if that makes sense or not, It's a hysterical concept and definitely factual in my canon. To be fair as well, DU drow is a huge man and has to drink a LOT to get properly wasted - so Astarion wouldn't have to consume a whole lot from him to get on a similar level!

Post a few particular post-campaign events, Astarion gets drunk through strangers' blood that were either piss-drunk already or have been fed alcohol forcibly by the pair.

He likes thick stews, braised pork, and meat-pies the most. Don't ask me when or why I've decided this but he likes octupi as a every-once-in-a-while treat - I think he mostly enjoys the experience of eating it more than the taste.

For drinks, he likes beer, red semi-dry wine, and mead the most. He also likes a GOOD whisky - none of the copper-coin garbage they serve at most Inns.

Hi! Incredible question. DU drow can go indefinitely but when he stops he knocks out in record speed. There usually comes a point where Astarion flops over and lets him do all the work.

You know how, shortly after you find out about it, if you tell Astarion that you're frightened of your origins you get that really heartfelt bit of dialogue about how yourself and him are so much alike, and how he feels similarly powerless before Cazador as you do toward your father? Well, I never got that, because DU drow was too busy squinting into the horizon and contemplating the logistics of his conception which prompts Astarion to, essentially, say something along the lines of "Okay, if all you want to do is discuss your dad's cum I'm out"

So, like that.

They didn't smash in the graveyard! I'm hoping to either write a short thing about it, draw something inspired by how the scene went down in my head, or, ideally, both!

That IS kind of a wild comparison but I'm guessing you know about my origins, LOL.

Not... Quite. I'm reluctant to say more because I would like for it to be a surprise that I bring you all through art (even if you can make a pretty accurate deduction based on what has been said so far) but suffice to say that this is the flipside to the Bhaalist DU drow AU.

I don't think I could find the time 😭😭😭 but that's a hysterical idea and I would gladly mash together a bunch of clips if someone else was willing to highlight them!

Hello and thank YOU for humoring me in my nerdy little forays!

I hadn't heard about Model/Actriz but I had a little sneak-peek and, indeed, this might just be right up my alley LOL

It's hard for me to remove these characters from their intended universe so I have a difficult time picturing what they would listen to if the options didn't all sound like string-y bardcore music. I'm sure there are more genres to speak of in DnD lore, I'm just ignorant of them!

That said I do have some thoughts about which of them even enjoy music at all.

REALLY enjoys music: DU drow, Jaheira, Misc, Karlach, Wyll.

Modestly enjoys music: Gale, Shadowheart, Minthara, Halsin.

Generally doesn't enjoy music: Astarion, Lae'zel.

No notes just canonical character information being shared

I forgot what this one was in reference to for a moment and I was so aghast.

I really, really hope you weren't hoping for me to give you work-out advice because both, if you were, you've come to the wrong man.

But if you're just wondering about lore here, I think it's a solid 50/50. I think he's predisposed to a really well-built physique because Daddy Bhaal said so AND he's incredibly active and incidentally does a lot of manual labor. If he's had a few too many sedentary days in a row (which is rare) he pretty much has to tire himself through at-home routines or he goes a little cuckoo-bananas as well.

And thank you for being interested in my little freak!

He's pretty thoroughly desensitized, and thinks far too little of Orcs and half-orcs to be intimidated by them, even when that lack of fear is downright stupid. He's not impervious to fear, however, despite how hard he tries to be - Myrkhul, Grym, the giant Steelwatch, the brain, and even Cazador AFTER he snatched Astarion away were all encounters that made his blood run cold to varying degrees. I think it takes an unfamiliar foe for his sweat to run a little cold.

(Ironically, Raphael had no such effect on him.)

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter eight when some clout chaser claims to be the mystery girl in the photo, Hiori shuts down the rumors and teases about the girl who truly has his heart blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains fluff, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader masterlist

The speculations about Hiori’s mystery girl are definitely one of the highlights of his career.

Ironically, he finds it funny how people react to it. He’s already been scolded by both the team manager and the marketing manager, each lecturing him about how careless he’s been. It’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with dating, especially as an athlete. Though it seems like he was scolded for not giving them a heads up and keeping it a secret. 

His parents, on the other hand, are pretty much predictable. His dad stays quiet about these sorts of things, but his mom? She makes it a huge deal. Despite their issues, she still showers him with love and attention in her own overbearing, only-child-parent way. She’s adamant that he’s been hiding the girl from her because he’s embarrassed or something.

Not to mention, his friends and teammates. His Bastard Munchen teammates—not exactly the epitome of calm, cool and connectedness as how they would look.

The moment he arrived into a field for training, Isagi sprints at him at high speed, like golden retriever finally seeing its best friend. Igaguri and Raichi moan about how unfair it is for Hiori to get a girlfriend before them. The older members, Geisner, Bachs and even Ndiaye praised him as if he scored a goal.

Even Noa himself gives him an approving nod, “at least we know you’re normal-er than the rest of these football heads.”

Again, a wild reaction from everyone.

Sure, he’s not the only eligible bachelor in the field, nay, in his team who have been elusive or secretive about their relationships. But sports gossip writers love to eat up news like this. Like vultures circling around a carcass, the media (even fans) are waiting to pounce on him any moment. 

“Who’s the girl you were caught kissing at the JFA party?”

“Do you finally have a girlfriend?”

“Is your girlfriend a celebrity?”

It’s the same old question every single time. And for Hiori, it gets tiring. He should be answering questions about the game, the team’s performance and plans ahead this season. People are too hung up on who’s his “flavor of the month”, as if he’s Oliver freaking Aiku.

But he knows how to play the game. It’s just like playing a visual novel. His answers already predetermined, all of them would either deflect or shut down the whole topic all together. 

“I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“Are ya sure that’s me? Doesn’t look like me?”

“Looks edited though, don’tcha think?”

Like he promised you, he won’t disclose anything to the media or anyone else. Not that he’s the type to kiss and tell. But he won’t confirm or deny it either. He finds it fun to watch people squirm, teetering on the edge of curiosity and frustration. 

Plus, he values his privacy. That’s how it’s always been, and it’s how it always will be. 

Still, beneath his calm demeanor, Hiori worries he might fumble this. He likes you—really likes you. Enough to avoid making mistakes that might scare you off.

Fine, he likes you a lot. More than he thinks you even realize. 

In the months before you started dating, he found himself looking forward to every conversation with you, whether it was online or during work. He’d take whatever crumbs he could get, so to speak.

That’s why he got so frustrated when you started showing up way less for interviews. He understood it was just part of your job, something entirely out of his control. But when you got reassigned to other teams, it did threaten him. 

You were a natural at what you did—fun, easygoing, and effortlessly charming. No wonder he felt at ease with you from the get go. So it was just a matter of time till others saw you the way he did. 

Athletes like them are human after all. 

When Nagi—and, surprisingly, Reo—tried to squeeze into the picture, that did it for him. He hated how it felt, the simmering jealousy that crept in every time he saw them be all chummy with you. No amount of goals scored against Manshine City could ease the sinking feeling of losing you to one of them. Or, worse, both of them.

Hiori never thought of himself as the jealous type. But now he knows better. He despises the feeling. The tightness in his chest, the restless nights replaying imagined scenarios. Yet, there’s also a quiet satisfaction now. You chose him. 

Not publicly known, not splashed across headlines. But still, you’re his. If he gets jealous, he knows he’s not overreacting.

“I know who she is!” Isagi sing-songs, jogging over to the bench.

Hiori offers him a water bottle, cocking an eyebrow. “Whatcha mean?”

Isagi displays a shit eating grin, practically glowing with mischief. “I know who the girl is. Ness knows, too.”

Ness, approaching from behind, offers a polite smile—a polite smile that makes Hiori’s stomach drop.

“Nah, ya don’t,” Hiori says, chuckling nervously.

“We do,” Isagi insists.

“Ya don’t,” Hiori repeats.

“Well, we do,” Ness interjects smoothly. “Reo told us about how you cockblocked him and Nagi at the party.”

Hiori freezes, sweat beading on his forehead. “What?”

“You guys weren’t exactly subtle when you bailed,” Isagi adds, his shit-eating grin growing wider. “Miss Journalist seems to be really into y—what the hell, Hiori!”

A towel smacks Isagi square in the face. “Shaddap!” Hiori hisses, putting a finger to his lips.

Ness snickers, and Isagi pulls the towel off, laughing. “Alright, fine, ya got me. But can ya two keep it down? We just started dating,” Hiori mutters, massaging his temples.

“Relax, I’m not gonna spill,” Ness says with a wave of his hand but he gives a small smile, amused by Hiori’s reactions.

“Gotcha,” Isagi says, mock-saluting. “But, man, I didn’t know you had that kind of ‘HioRizz.’”

Hiori groans, glaring at Isagi. “I swear to God, if ya don’t shut up, I’ll leave ya out of every pass next game.”

Ness bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry, Isagi. I’ll pass to you.”

“Hiori has more rizz than Yukimiya! I should take notes!” Isagi jokes, only for Hiori to smack him on the arm before chasing him down the field.

Despite the chaos, Hiori can’t help but feel a warm sense of pride. These guys might be loud and annoying, but they’re also the ones he trusts most. And in a way, it feels nice to share this secret with them—a small piece of his happiness.

Because you’re his. And he’s yours. And to Hiori, that means everything.

“So… you’re telling me this is you?” Your roommate, Miko, thrusts her phone in your direction, her finger pointing dramatically at the paparazzi photo of you and Hiori plastered on her screen.

It’s only been a week since the photo started making rounds online, but you’ve been caught staring at it one too many times by Miko, your eagle-eyed, ever-curious roommate. Today, you finally caved. The whirlwind of emotions bubbling inside was too much to handle alone.

And now, you just had to tell her because things are driving you crazy at this point. 

“Yup.” The two of you are sitting side by side on the couch. She grills you with her own paparazzi-like questions while you sink in further the couch, the unfinished article on the laptop you’ve been drafting long forgotten at this point.

Miko squints at you, her head tilting as she studies the image like a detective analyzing evidence. Her brow furrows, and then, as if struck by a sudden epiphany, she gasps.

She springs up from her seat, pointing at your face accusingly. “Aha! Is this the guy you—" she gestures vaguely but suggestively with her hand, “—you know, slept with after that work party?”

“Yes, it’s him. No, we didn’t ‘sleep’ together.” You can’t help but laugh as you swat her finger away. “We shared the same bed, yes. But nothing happened.”

Miko raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Sure, sure. A pretty girl like you, and he didn’t try anything? In this economy?” She blows a dramatic raspberry and plops back against the couch, clearly unimpressed.

Your cheeks burn, recounting the night you spent with Hiori. It was intimate—sweet and wholesome in a way that still made your chest flutter when you thought about it. The kisses, his touches. It only makes you yearn for it more.

The morning after was even better. You spending a whole Saturday with him was like magic. 

She idly giggles to herself as she scrolls more on her phone, probably to stalk Hiori. The girl is chronically online so her stalking (research skills as she calls it) skills are on par with yours. She could be a damn good journalist if she wants to. 

“You’re such a perv, Miko,” you say, swatting her with a throw pillow.

“Says the girl who drools on this guy's sweaty photos,” she shoots back, laughing as she scrolls furiously on her phone. “Wait a minute—oh, damn. This guy’s a big deal. National team and Bastard München? He’s a whole package!”

You glance over her shoulder, smiling despite yourself. At 26, Hiori’s resume is nothing short of legendary. Back when you were just another journalist in the crowd, you’d been blown away by his talent. It was his brilliance on the field that inspired you to write that first viral article—the one that caught his eye.

Even now, it feels surreal. How did you go from admiring him from afar to… this?

“And you’re okay with not going public?” Miko asks, her tone softer this time. Her eyes flick briefly to you, filled with concern. She’s seen you through your fair share of bad relationships—flings that went nowhere and heartbreaks that left their marks.

“Yeah,” you answer, though there’s a hesitation in your voice. “Honestly, I’m kind of relieved. I don’t even want to imagine how people would react if they knew I was just… me. An ordinary nobody.”

Miko slams her phone down dramatically. “First of all, you’re not a nobody. You’re the girl who single-handedly brought Bastard München back into the spotlight. You’re the one who made everyone see their worth when they were tanking. You’re that bitch.”

You can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, leaning into the side hug she gives you.

“But seriously,” you admit, letting out a long sigh, “it feels unreal. Like… we’re from completely different worlds. If this got out, I don’t think I’d be ready for the fallout. People would rip me apart.”

Miko frowns but says nothing, letting you pass her your phone. Together, you scroll through the endless speculation about Hiori’s mystery girl. Post after post describes someone glamorous and unattainable—completely unlike you.

“That’s ridiculous,” Miko says, her voice dripping with disdain. But before you can reply, she suddenly gasps so loudly that you nearly drop your phone.

“What now?” you ask, startled.

She shoves her phone into your hands, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and fury. On the screen is a video of a rising sports influencer, her perfectly curated appearance making her look every bit the part of someone destined for the spotlight.

The interviewer’s voice is casual, almost playful. “So, you attended the recent JFA party?”

The influencer smiles coyly, a soft, practiced laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, of course. I was there.”

You can feel the tension building as the interviewer leans in slightly, their tone dropping to something conspiratorial. “And… given your connections to Bastard München and your shared sponsor, you must know Hiori Yo?”

The influencer’s eyes sparkle, and she lets out a delighted giggle. “Well, who doesn’t know Hiori? He’s incredible—on and off the field.”

Pfft. As if she knows anything about Hiori and his brilliance.

“So… are you the girl Hiori Yo was caught kissing that night?” Your stomach twists as the interviewer delivers the bombshell, their voice taking on an almost teasing quality.

The influencer doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering as if to draw attention to the gesture. Then she twirls a lock of hair, her eyes flitting away from the camera for just a moment before returning with a mischievous glint.

“Well… isn’t that for everyone to wonder?” she says, her lips curving into a playful smirk. The answer is deliberately vague, but the mischievous glint in her eyes speaks volumes, leaving just enough room for everyone’s imagination to run wild.

Miko explodes. “The audacity!” she practically shouts, throwing her hands in the air. “What is wrong with her? She’s milking this for clout! And the interviewer—ugh!”

You can’t even respond. Your gaze is glued to the screen, your chest tightening with every second of the video. The influencer’s words replay in your head, her casual demeanor and sly smile feeding into the storm of doubts you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Miko’s rant continues unabated. “She didn’t even deny it! She knows exactly what she’s doing. God, people like her make me so mad.” She paces the room, her gestures wild and exaggerated, but you barely register her words.

Your stomach churns as you scroll through the comments beneath the video.

she’s stunning—definitely Hiori’s type. this makes so much sense they’d look so good together

Each comment feels like a jab, their assumptions cutting deeper than you thought possible. The image of you and Hiori, so ordinary and imperfect in comparison, flashes in your mind.

You glance down at yourself: wearing your favorite but worn-out pajamas, the fabric soft from too many washes. Your hair is in a messy bun, a few strands rebelliously sticking out. You’re comfortable, sure, but the reflection from the phone staring back feels painfully ordinary.

The woman in the video, with her flawless hair and perfectly styled outfit, radiates a charisma that seems effortless. She looks like someone who commands attention the moment she steps into a room, someone whose beauty turns heads without trying. 

Normally, you wouldn’t care about looking “normal.” Most days, you’re content in your own skin, finding beauty in your own way. But this? This moment makes you feel like just another face in the crowd. No striking features, no captivating allure. Just plain, unremarkable. And right now, “normal” feels less like a badge of self-acceptance and more like a curse.

Miko stops mid-rant when she notices the look on your face. “Hey, don’t let this get to you,” she says, her voice softening. She sits back down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “People love drama, and she’s giving it to them.”

“But what if people believe her?” you ask quietly, the vulnerability in your voice startling even yourself. “What if they think she’s better for him?”

She shakes her head firmly. “You can’t let strangers decide what’s best for him or for you. Hiori chose you, not some influencer fishing for likes. That says more than any of this nonsense ever could.”

You nod slowly, though the unease lingers. Deep down, you know she’s right. But as you hand her phone back, the thought persists: How long before the world finds out—and what happens when they do?

You spend the next weekend with Hiori at his apartment. Again. 

This routine has become a comforting tradition. Every Friday after work, you and Hiori grab dinner, sharing stories about your day. By the time the last train rolls in, you’re on your way to his apartment, lugging a slightly larger backpack than usual. Inside are the essentials: a change of clothes, skincare, and personal items, neatly packed alongside your work things.

It’s mundane yet romantic, this little ritual you’ve built together. Friday nights are reserved for catching up, sharing laughter, and exchanging updates about work and personal lives.

During one of these chats, he casually mentioned that Isagi and Ness know about the two of you now. You shared that Miko, your closest friend and roommate, knows too. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the video. Not yet.

That Friday night, you binge-watch movies. This time, some of his favorites, including SPEC. It’s endearing to see him so animated as he talks about what he loves, his passion stretching beyond football.

Curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over you, everything feels natural. His arm rests over your shoulders, pulling you close as you melt into his side. Occasionally, he leans in to kiss you—your knuckles, your cheek, the top of your head—absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving the screen. The faint scent of his body wash lingers in the air, grounding you in this moment, so intimate yet exhilarating.

By the time the third movie ends, you’re both ready to tuck in for the night. As you drift off in his arms, the comfort and warmth feel whole, complete.

You always wake up earlier than him. It’s a small, heartwarming detail you love about these mornings. He even got you your own coffee mug. A matching set of Nier Automata ones for both of you. With coffee in hand, you lounge in the living room, flipping through a book while the quiet hum of his apartment surrounds you.

Later, you make brunch together, settling into the kind of domesticity that makes your heart flutter. Saturdays with Hiori are always this way—unhurried and easy. You both slip into a rhythm that feels like second nature, each finding comfort in the other's presence.

When he’s gaming on his PC, you’re nearby doing some light work on your laptop, occasionally glancing up to watch his focus. When he switches to his PS5, you curl up beside him on the couch, yapping about the book or manga you’re reading as your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair. He listens quietly, humming in acknowledgment now and then, his contentment reflected in the small smile that lingers on his face.

It’s the kind of quiet companionship that makes everything feel right—as if the two of you were meant to exist in this peaceful harmony.

But this time, something disrupts the vibe.

Standing by the sink, phone in hand, your brow furrows as the video plays again. It’s the same one. The influencer, the coy smile, the teasing comments. You try to push it aside, but the weight of it lingers.

“Hey, you okay?” Hiori’s voice startles you. He’s slipped behind you, his hands resting gently on your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“God, Hiori, you scared me!” You fumble with your phone, but instead of turning it off, the volume spikes, making you jump. Flustered, you quickly lower it.

“What was that?” he asks, noticing the unease in your expression.

You hesitate but eventually lead him to the couch, where you show him the video. As he watches, you fidget, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap.

“I just… it’s been bothering me,” you admit finally, your voice trembling. “Even though we’ve been dating for a few weeks now, I can’t shake this feeling that our worlds are too different. It’s pathetic that I let it bother me.”

Before he can respond, you continue, a weak laugh escaping you. “I know we’ve talked about this, but… it just gets to me sometimes.”

Hiori pauses, then gently pulls you into his arms. “Hey, s’fine. I understand. Don’t worry about them, ‘kay?” His voice is soft but steady, grounding you.

You feel his sincerity, but the nagging fear remains. “I don’t want to scare you with these feelings,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“And I wantcha ya to know ya won’t scare me. Ever.” He tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help ease yer mind?”

You shake your head, smiling faintly. “Just this… spending time with you like this, it’s enough for me.” But then, gathering your courage, you add, “Actually… I was wondering if I could take you out. On a proper date. Something special. Just the two of us.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but his smile grows almost immediately. “You’re asking me out, huh?” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss on the lips. “Of course. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”

And for the first time in days, the weight in your chest feels a little lighter.

When midweek rolls in, you know you'll be too preoccupied since it always comes with an avalanche of tasks, and today is no different.

You're neck-deep in work, juggling content planning for upcoming videos and articles while checking in with interns you’re supervising. They're compiling research on volleyball, basketball, and surprisingly, esports, which they’ve informed you is “the next big thing.”

You slump back in your chair, fingers aching from typing, and let out a long exhale. Cracking your knuckles, you reach for your coffee, savoring the warmth as it spreads through you. It’s moments like this when caffeine feels less like a drink and more like a lifeline for your overworked soul.

Your phone buzzes on the desk, lighting up with a notification. It’s a message from Hiori.

Oooh, a Hiori pick-me-up, you think, already feeling a smile creep onto your face. Just what you need to get through this impending burnout.

The message is short:

hiori: watch fer a surprise

Attached is a link. Intrigued, you click it, and a video opens.

It’s a recent press interview featuring Hiori. He looks effortlessly charming in a black hoodie, his hair perfectly tousled in that way that reminds you of lazy weekends spent curled up on his couch. You remember him mentioning this event last weekend, but seeing him on screen still catches you off guard.

The interviewer’s question catches your attention: “So, Hiori, there’s been a lot of buzz about you and a certain sports influencer lately. Any truth to those rumors?”

Your chest tightens slightly at the mention.

Hiori tilts his head, his expression as calm and composed as ever. “Sorry, who?” he replies, his tone laced with subtle mischief. “Oh, you mean the one who has the same sponsor with our team?”

Ness, seated beside him, nudges him gently, a silent reminder to tread carefully.

The interviewer presses on. “Yes. Rumors are that she's the mystery girl you're dating. Is she?”

Hiori chuckles lightly, dismissing the question with his usual nonchalance. “Nope, not at all. We’ve never even talked to each other.”

And then, just when you think he’s moved on, he adds, “Besides, I like my girl who’s a little nerdy, enjoys the same things I do outside of football, and, oh yeah—she talks a lot.”

Your breath catches.

The comments section beneath the video is already buzzing. Fans are losing it over his indirect confirmation of the photo rumors.

did he just confirm he's taken? he’s confirming without really confirming it! whoever the mystery girl is, she’s lucky af. i will crawl in a hole and cry

But you’re not focused on them.

Hiori’s words replay in your mind, each one feeling like it was chosen just for you. He didn’t name names, but the teasing specificity left no doubt in your heart. This was his way of sharing a piece of his life with the world—without giving too much away.

Your shoulders relax as the video ends, warmth spreading through you.

Another message pops up on your screen.

hiori: would you mind writing an article about how yer favorite football player, Hiori Yo, is no longer single? hiori: also, I can’t wait to see where yer taking me fer our date. 😉

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his playful tone.

Oh, this man.

The stress of the day doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. With Hiori’s teasing yet heartfelt reminder of how much you mean to him, you feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

amari's notes: i just finished writing this last night, sorry it took so long! i got sick for some reason and still recovering from it. made the bf read this and pointed out that journalist is not my self-insert, the roommate is my self-insert. she is so me lol. also, happy new year to all my hiori loving people! anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf @pookalicious-hq @dontmindtheevie @wannabepoeticischiya

[hottubdarling]

Poolside-inspired Luigi Mangione x reader.

summary — he's cleaning your swimming pool twice a week and you start falling in love w him

this fic is inspired by the poolside short film and lyrics of lana del rey songs!

English is not my first language!

Summer came, you saved money for cute sun dresses and body moisturizers the whole year, and you can't wait to feel that salty scent in your clothes.

Your parents finally uncovered the swimming pool, and you couldn’t be happier. But it was dirtier than the usual, it was actually a mess, spiders and little worms everywhere. You hadn’t enough money to buy a cleaning robot and you didn’t know how to clean a pool properly, so, the only alternative would be hire someone to do that.

Your dad started looking for pool cleaners online and found a guy, who was cleaning pools during the whole summer as a hobby. At first he was kinda reluctant about hiring him, he was fearing he couldn’t be professional enough, so he called him for more information.

Your parents decided to engage him twice a week, he would come to your house tomorrow to assess the pool and start cleaning, you couldn't be more excited to finally go back to swimming!

Next day came. You put your black bikini on under a blue sundress and went to the backyard. You lay down in the grass and played nintendo the whole morning.

Someone rang the doorbell, and your mother's high heels made a huge noise throughout the house.

You heard a male voice in the hallway, talking about schedules, money and stuff like that. "He’s the pool guy" you thought. You stayed playing nintendo in your sun lounger, as you hadn’t heard nothing.

He knocked the backyard glass door, then he came out. You greeted him and smiling, like you weren’t exploding inside. He was really cute to be honest. His smile was more pleasant that any swiming pool, he couldn’t leave, even if he left your pool perfectly clean.

You couldn’t pay attention to your video game anymore, but you couldn’t look at him properly. You was just maladaptive daydreaming, looking at the dirty water.

— So, how is your summer going? - he asked you

— Having fun at home - you answered. I'm gonna start having more fun now when I can use the pool.

— That's cool. I'm cleaning pools for fun, it's a nice way to make new friends, as crazy it seems.

— My neighbor has this robot, its like a little vacuum, it goes into the pool and it does your job.

— He didn’t answered, he was just starred at you for a few seconds and smirked.

After a few minutes, the pool was sparkling. When he was leaving, you heard your mom screaming in the living room. When you came in, he was in the couch, shirtless and sunburned.

— Are you crazy?- she said. Please put on a shirt next time. Im gonna pick up a relief, please take care of him.

She closed the door, and now you two were alone. You wanted to apologize, but it wasn’t your fault, so you stayed silent and started rubbing a cold towel on his back.

—Thanks for being so nice

— No problem

You two stayed in silence. Suddenly, your mother came back and took care of the situation herself.

-See you in three days.

You spent that three days thinking about him, you needed to do something to offset what happened, the fact that he was hot just made the things worse.

You were in the backyard, as always. He looked better than three days ago, he also looked hotter.

— Hey, you don’t need to do this today - you said. Just come in and drink something, I feel really sorry for what happened.

He starred at you for a couple minutes like you were saying the most out of this world thing ever, but it looked like he was liking what he was hearing.

—I am insisting, okay?

You filled your cup with lemonade at least three times while you two were talking, and you didn’t even noticed. Next to him, hours started looking like seconds, he was the smartest and the most beautiful guy you’ve ever met in the entire summer.

— This might be crazy, but, do you wanna go swimming with me?

He started laughing, shaking his head multiple times.

— Im serious, just put sunscreen on before

10 minutes later, you two were in the sparkling water, he wanted to teach you how to float.

He put his hand in the back of your neck while the other hand was grabbing your waist. His brown eyes looked like fire, you wanted to cry.

You two were lying if you said that nothing was happening at this moment, you had a boyfriend, but right now, he looked like a random guy next to the man who was holding you in his big arms.

He placed his hand at your your face and put his fingers inside your mouth. You stopped feeling your body, and just let him do whatever he wanted. You were completely in love.

[scribbly-artist]

Paint War

Summary: After talking Jinx down so they both didn’t get blown up, Ekko assists Jinx in getting everything ready to help in the big fight. They can’t crash the party looking all cool without some sick paint designs on their outfits though!

Author’s Notes: Thank you to this anon for the prompt requests for this fic! Despite not writing for Jinx or Ekko previously, I had a lot of fun trying to write them. :P Like everyone, I’m under the assumption they talked and maybe hung out between Ekko convincing Jinx to not hurt herself/blow them both up and the big fight. So here’s a little something I think could have happened!

Words: ~1,300 | AO3 Link

“You think this’ll work?” Ekko asked with doubt laced in his voice.

“Of course it will. You helped me build it, after all.” Jinx responded as she sat on a stool at what was originally her makeshift workbench.

The Boy Savior had managed to talk The Loose Cannon down from trying to hurt herself (both of them, really. If that explosive went off without Ekko using the Z-Drive, they’d both be dead) and convince her to fight as a major pawn in the clash between Piltover, Zaun and Noxus. With Ekko’s help, Jinx has converted her hideout into a secret weapon in the game of chess between the nations. They both needed to go and help so the whole world didn’t succumb to downfall. 

The big balloon was ready to go, just not launched yet. The weapons were attached, rebuilt to be more lethal and painted brightly. Just one final thing was missing in their plan…

“Now, we just have to look the part.” Jinx turned the stool so she could look at Ekko, who tilted his head in questioning. “We can’t go face first into a fight lookin’ like this. I need… something deadlier to wear. And we need paint!”

So they got to work. Ekko’s outfit didn’t need many changes, but Jinx wanted to rework her attire. She managed to make and attach a hood out of some extra cloth she had laying around to a big jacket, wrapped her chest with bandages and tape and tailored the rest of her outfit to her liking.

Jinx even dyed a few purple streaks in her hair.

“I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you that I dig the new hair,” Ekko commented, helping Jinx so she didn’t get hair dye everywhere. “I think it suits you better this way.”

“I don’t even know how long it’s been since I’ve had it this short. New trauma, new me, I guess.” She shrugged.

Ekko brought the paint cans up on the workbench, mixing a pot of it with a paintbrush so its colour would be consistent. “You really want paint all over you?” He asked as he took the brush out of the paint, holding a cupped hand under the brush so as to not make a mess if it dripped.

“Paint makes everything look cooler,” she replied. “Besides, you’re the pro at it. You painted more than me as a kid, and painted my cool hat I used to wear when we used to play…” her smile faltered to a frown as her eyes grew a little sad. “…back then…”

A sad sigh left Ekko as he pulled up his own stool, sitting down. “Once this is all over, we’ll figure this out. Okay?”

Jinx nodded and then shook off the sadness, spreading her arms out wide. “Let me be your canvas, Wonder Boy.”

He nodded as got to work. He started painting her clothes first, drawing different patterns and symbols on her outfit with a range of colours. This was very different to the murals he and his friends at the sanctuary were used to painting, but it was nice to try something different. And painting like this caused some more old memories to resurface into his mind.

“Heh, I remember when we did this as kids. You could never sit still,” he moved the paintbrush from the side of her jacket to her bare skin on her torso. Jinx shuttered at the sudden cold paint touching down on her skin with a shiver. “Whenever I painted on you before, you always squirmed because you were so ticklish.” He stated with a laugh, reminiscing.

“That w-was when I was just a kid, though. Not anymore.” Jinx replied. With Ekko’s comment, she was now hyper aware of the brush making contact with her skin.

But Ekko noticed that Jinx’s body went stiff. The exact same thing would happen when he painted her way back then.

“I dunno… Seems like that still rings true.”

“What? Me, ticklish? As if. That’s just a stupid kiddy feeling. I’m way past that now.”

Ekko swiped the brush, painting a long, colourful streak of bright green paint from her side all the way to her stomach. Jinx let out a strangled noise as her hand darted to her mouth to silence herself. Her eyes flew to look at Ekko’s face, a small smile across it.

“Ekko.” She tried to make her voice as stern as she could. Though, her vocal cords failed her in this moment. “Don’t even think about it.”

He didn’t even need to give a response as he started to drag the paintbrush around her skin with more tickly intent, from her stomach all the way to under her arm. Jinx let out a gasp as giggles started to slip through her defences, a hand swiftly latching onto Ekko’s wrist to stop him.

“Yohohou always did this when wehehe were kids, too.” She shook her head, giggling. This was so silly, but strangely she didn’t mind it. Thinking of her past self usually upset and hurt her, but with Ekko here… some parts didn’t seem as awful, at least.

“I just wanted to lighten the mood. You need all that spark and energy for the fight,” Jinx loosened her grip on Ekko’s wrist as he grabbed another paintbrush with some bright pink dyed bristles. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t tickle this time, I promise. Super serious now.”

“Pfft, fine.” Jinx gave in and leaned back in the stool, holding her arms back out with a bit of reluctance. Ekko got back to painting, the cold paint once again making Jinx’s skin crawl. She was focusing on trying to mentally block out the feeling of the paint sliding against her skin, until—

“Hahaha! Y-You’re totally doing it ohohohon purpose!!” She jumped off of her stool, surprising Ekko. His eyes grew wide as he stood up himself, waiting for a physical attack or something of the like from the other.

“No, I wasn’t! I swear!” He held his hands up in defence, the paintbrush that was in his hand clashing to the ground with a dull noise.

Jinx looked Ekko up and down in thought. And then a plan hit her. A somewhat menacing smile formed on her face, making Ekko shiver in place. She grabbed a loaded paintbrush of her own, a pretty bright blue.

“You’ve just started a tickle paint war. And I’m gonna win.”

Ekko had no time to react as Jinx launched herself in his direction, attacking him with whatever bare skin her own paintbrush could reach. He tried to run away with begs and pleads. He was ticklish himself after all, and Jinx knew that. But she didn’t relent.

Loud laughter bounced off the cave walls from both of them. Paint was flying in many directions as Ekko managed to grab another paintbrush to fight back during the brawl. They had a scuffle, seeing who could laugh the loudest. They were both entirely covered with bright, messy paint from head to toe once they called a truce.

Ekko looked at Jinx’s face, trying to catch his breath. “I think I missed a spot,” he moved back to the workbench, dipping his thumb in some purple paint. He made his way back to Jinx, holding her chin steady with one hand as he dragged his painted purple thumb across both of her cheeks, just below her eyes. “There. Think we’re ready now.”

Jinx laughed, eyeing Ekko’s body, colourful paint now all over him. “I think I did a good job, if I do say so myself.”

They shared another laugh together.

The calm before the storm.

[beevean]

An idea that won't leave my head is that Lydie is an excitable tomboy.

Think about it. Lydie, who in appearance is a frilly delicate girl, has two boys as her best friends. Two rough warrior boys, at that. How did she become part of the group? Surely she does more than just sitting demurely as they spar?

I like to think that Lydie is actually kind of reckless and likes to play dangerous games. She's the kind of girl that would ruin her skirt climbing up trees or jumping on stones to cross a river. She causes a lot of headaches for her family, who want her to act proper, and this may be why she loves to spend time with her friends, who don't care if she is improper because they just like her as she is. I don't think she is that big of a rebel, because she still looks like someone who takes care of her appearance (the hair alone requires careful styling), so she might play coy with her family and be on her best behavior... until tempted by her besties.

Generally speaking, if I were to write Lydie, I think I'd move away from the "gentle" archetype and make her a ball of energy lol. The kind of person who is constantly fidgeting, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands because she just can't wait to spend more time with her favorite people in the world!

I could also take this artwork as proof that she likes nature and animals. She doesn't have the innate talents of a witch or a Devil Forgemaster, sadly lol. She just tries her best even if she gets her fingers picked at or bitten.

Also, we know that after Simon's victory, the Belmonts became heroes of the land, and a whole village was built around them. Juste, most likely, didn't grow up shunned for his bloodline. But! He was still born different. Frail, pale, and with strange magic potential. While discrimination due to magic is not as intense at this point in time as it was in centuries past, it's possible Juste was surrounded by rumors, perhaps even doubted as a worthy successor of his grandfather. You know, for that nice family legacy stuff :)

The point is, I think Lydie never cared. Along with Maxim, who gets to experience for himself how strong and driven Juste is, Lydie might have been the first person to not treat Juste like the latest Belmont with all that comes with it, but as a boy worth of befriending. Lydie got to know Juste's various quirks, like his stubborness, or his fastidiousness when it comes to fashion and decor (I bet they joked that she could learn from him lol), and decided he was funny and that's how a friendship started.

Oh, and the wiki suggests that her surname hints at her ethnicity being Transylvanian Saxon or Banat Swabian. I think it's pretty cool and it could influence her in some way.

I need to think of more quirks to give to her. But I really would like to flesh her out a bit because she has potential to be interesting :>

[salubriousbean]

So I watched Skeleton Crew

AND I LOVE IT

LIKE

PIRATES

It's so much cooler than I thought it would be. I love the main four and there's so much to find and figure out especially with Jod.

And of course the music slaps. More spoilery things under cut (for all 6 current released episodes)

Ok first off I love KB, she's my favorite. (She's autism coded ngl)

Also KB lore drop in episode 6??? Like girl what was the accident?

ALSO WHAT THERES ONLY TWO MORE EPISODES IN S1???

Ngl it kinda bothered me how they didn't pronounce the T's in At Attin.

Ah yes. Jod, Silvo, who is this guy?? (Also i know they mention Silvo in the first ep but I can't for the life of me remember what that bit was about.)

HE SAID THE QUI-GON QUOTE your focus determines your reality LIKE WHAT

Also they've used "kriffing" twice now and that makes me really happy. It is part of my daily vocabulary and I even heard one of my best friends say it and j was like what (i think all she knows is that it's a star wars cuss word) ANYWAYS

I need Jod backstory like now. He's a Force user, and he knew the Qui-Gon quote, and he has a lightsaber, but how did he get to where he is in the show I NEED ANSWERS

Speaking of backstories I also need full KB backstory. I love how she has two moms. Also what the kriff happened to Wim's mom? It seems like with such a perfect (too perfect) society she'd still be alive, especially since it seems KB had a terrible accident yet she was saved by technology. So what about Wim's mom?

And I also love how determined the parents are to break the rules for their kids, it's adorable. Also who the kriff is the Supervisor. Watch it be like the Red- something pirate dude (I'm kidding)

Speaking of the pirate dude (cannot remember his name rn) how long ago was that ship crashed? Cuz like Jod knows about him, but there was also a whole lot of growth over the ship? Granted Jod could have just heard and read about him not actually seen him. Idk.

Yas Neel you preach peace to the whoever clan they are, with Hayna or whatever her name was (why can't I remember). He's so precious.

Wim's name is so silly I love it. He's a silly little guy i love him.

Fern is such a character oh my gosh. At first I didn't like her but with the character development I'm liking her more and more.

Also (last point) At Attin is way sus. Too perfect. Actually all the At planets are sus (once again I need backstory). Also the beginning episodes didn't really feel like Star Wars, especially the like suburbia bits and stuff.

Anyways yea i think Skeleton Crew's really cool, better than I was expecting. I really like the piratey music, though they do lean a little too hard into the aesthetic to feel completely like Star Wars, in my opinion. However it's unique, so.