#I'm sure this has all been said before but here we go anyway

[agustdakasuga]

Every Moment With You

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, IdolBoyfriend!Yoongi, Idol!Namjoon, Idol!Seokjin, Idol!Hoseok, Idol!Jimin, Idol!Taehyung, Idol!Jungkook

Summary: Finally, the boys are able to take a break without any cameras and fans. And since they will be a private compound on their own, of course Yoongi invited you. And now that you're able to comfortably spend time with him, you want to make full use of it before he goes back to work.

Word count: 7,395

When Yoongi unlocked the door to the apartment, he was greeted to by the sight of you blasting 'Haegeum' and throwing hand signs around, jumping on the spot like you were at one of his AGUST D D-Day concerts.

"이 노래는 해금" You tried your best to rap, still not noticing your boyfriend leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused smile on his face.

"Ayy!" You couldn't catch up with all the lyrics of his rap so you kept throwing 'ayy's around.

"어쩌면 이 또한 또 다른 해금, yeah" You finished and Yoongi pushed himself off the wall, clapping to finally make his presence known.

"What the-" You jumped and let out a yelp.

"H-How long have you been there?" You screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at him. Yoongi continued clapping and laughing at how surprised you looked to see him.

"Halfway through the chorus. Although I wish I was here to see the entire performance." He chuckled.

"Damn right, you know I'm way better than Agust D. But sorry, there are no encores around here." You scoffed.

"Yeah, we don't know who Agust D thinks he is." Yoongi smiled and shuffled over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You threw your arms over his neck, tip toeing slightly to hug him properly. You tightened your hold around him as he turned his head just enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

"How was the studio session?" You asked.

"It went better than I expected. I should be able to record guide vocals with Jungkook soon." He replied, one hand moving to stroke your lower back affectionately.

"That's great." You giggled, pulling back to give him a peck. You helped him remove his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack.

"Oh, right. I wanted to tell you, the boys wanna head up to the Soop estate to stay for a few days." He informed.

"Ah, I see. Go ahead, I think it's a great idea. You all should take the chance to get away for a bit before promotions really kick off again." You said, going to the kitchen.

"You should come too." He followed you into the kitchen, grabbing a cold coffee from the fridge.

"Yoongi, I would love to but... you remember the last time... it was hard for everyone to hide me from the cameras..." You sighed.

"I know, aegi. But the management said there will be no cameras, no content filming, no fans, nothing. We'll have the whole place to ourselves with security in case of trespassers. So if you would like to go, I would love to have you there." He held your hand.

"Oh, sure. If the boys are okay with it." You smiled, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

"Please, of course they are okay with it. They didn't even care about whether I was going, all they wanted to know was if you were going." He rolled his eyes.

"Alright. I have some vacation days my boss has been asking me to take anyway so the timing is perfect." You said.

"It's settled then. Go get packed, we're leaving tomorrow morning at 5 am." Yoongi patted your hip.

"We'll have our own room, bathroom and small seating area. And of course, the camper van is ours too. You've seen it on the show, it's like the one Jungkook stayed in with Bam." Yoongi informed.

"I mean, if the other members need more privacy, I don't mind sharing a bathroom or living room space." You shrugged.

"No, no, no. Don't say that. For me, we need our own space." Yoongi was quick to interject, shaking his head.

"Sure~" You laughed.

During In The Soop 1, Yoongi spoke to management about you tagging along with them and they agreed since Yoongi would be using the camper on his own. But even so, it was hard for you to stay hidden. You would have to duck out of the way, wake up earlier to leave the bed and make sure your stuff was hidden.

On top of that, the editing team had to do multiple rounds of checks to make sure that any footage of you or your belongings being captured was removed.

"Go shower, I'll start packing." You waved him off. He hummed and came over to kiss your temple before going to the bathroom.

"Shirts, pants, underwear..." You took out a few sets and laid them on the bed.

"Hoodies... Dresses..." Leaving Yoongi's clothes on the bed for him to check first, you packed your stuff into the suitcase. Then you packed make up and some travel toiletries.

"They have toiletries there, aegi. Unless you need something specific." Yoongi said, re-entering the room.

"Oh, okay. Saves me the space then. Can you check if that's enough clothes for you?" You asked.

"I think I'll take a few more shirts. Last time, I ended up being pushed into the pool by a drunk Namjoon. It was edited out since most of them were drunk and removing their clothes." He let out a sigh.

"I'm sure the fans would have liked to watch that." You raised your eyebrows. Yoongi helped you with the packing, stuffing his things into his own suitcase. He put your skincare along with his own in his travel pouch and packed that.

"I can finish up here if you want to nap." You told him, knowing he was working in the studio the whole of last night.

"It's alright, we're almost done." Yoongi patted your head. He took the clothes that you both decided not to bring and put them back into the drawers or hung them back up in the closet.

"Aegi, should I add your skirt to this hanger with the rest or would you prefer me to use a new one?" He asked.

"A new one would be great. The other one looks too full." You said.

"Good idea." He went to the laundry area to get a spare hanger and came back, neatly hanging your skirts before putting it back into your side of the closet.

"Okay, we're done! Time for us to sleep." He declared.

"Yoongi, it's 1pm. I'm not sleepy! You go to sleep." You said between your giggles.

"No, you know I can't sleep without you." He grumbled in a low voice, not sure if it was meant for you to hear of not. But without another word, Yoongi laid on his side of the bed, scrolling on his phone.

"Aren't you tired?" You tilted your head.

"I am... I'm just waiting for you." He let out a big yawn, stretching his arms and legs like a cat. You let out a sigh of defeat and moved the packed bags aside, crawling into bed with him. Yoongi used to sleep on the left but after his surgery, he changed to the right so he wouldn't sleep on his left.

"That's better." He cleared his throat, pulling you close and letting you sleep on his right arm, his left casually slung over your hip. You felt him kiss the top of your head.

"Ugh." You tried to sleep but you had just woken up not too long ago. On the other hand, Yoongi fell asleep so quickly.

"You always work so hard." You whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek as he slept.

"I love you." You were glad he was done with military. Yes, as a social service officer, you saw Yoongi everyday but he always looked so tired and frustrated that he didn't have time to work on music.

You slipped out of Yoongi's hold and left the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

"Clean up, do laundry, make snacks, pack drinks." You made a list.

Since you and Yoongi were not going to be around, you wanted to clean the house and do as many chores as you could so you wouldn't have to do them when you get back.

"Aegi?" Yoongi lifted his head to find himself along in bed. His hand touched your side of the bed, feeling how cold the sheets were. He groaned as he sat up and yawned. Slipping on his house slippers, Yoongi left the bedroom.

"Aegiiii..." His sleep riddled voice called out for you.

"In the kitchen!" You replied. Yoongi blinked in confusion and went over to the kitchen. He watched with a small frown as you were wrapping the rice ball in cling wrap.

"W-What are you doing?" Yoongi came closer, leaning closer and squinting to figure out what you were doing.

"Make snacks for us and the others to eat on the bus ride." You laughed, pulling him back.

"It's just snacks, babe. We might get hungry or the others might get hungry too." You said, putting all the rice balls aside, next to the wrapped sandwiches.

"Thank you for doing this." He smiled.

"I'm always happy to feed you and the boys." You put all the items into the fridge, intending to bring them in a cooler bag later.

"You made Japanese potato salad?" His eyes widened when he saw you put two containers in too.

"Mhmm. I know you like it. Plus, I ran out of bread and since I was boiling eggs anyway, I took some for potato salad. This second one container has no cucumbers, its for Taehyung." You explained, going to grab some disposable cutlery that you and Yoongi collect from all your food deliveries.

"You spoil them too much." He clicked his tongue, stealing a boiled egg to eat. Yoongi always says you give in too much to the younger ones but it's always hard to tell them no.

"You spoil them too! Jungkook's whole 'Yoongi hyung never scolds me' thing." You put your hands on your hips.

"T-That's different." He looked away, his ears turning red.

"Sure, it is. You keep telling yourself that. And I don't just spoil them, I spoil you too, Yoonie~" You cooed at him, pinching his cheek. He scoffed and slapped your hands away.

"You know I hate all your nicknames... And you're meant to spoil me, you're dating me, not them." He glared.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget that." You hugged his waist, leaning your head on his chest.

"You better not." His clean hand came to stroke the back of your head. As you cleaned up the kitchen counter, Yoongi heated up the leftovers for you have dinner.

"Aegi, dinner time. Stop working." Yoongi called you like a mother calls her child, putting the plates of food on the dining table. You closed your laptop and went over to help him, grabbing the side dishes from the fridge and the cutlery.

"I managed to file for my leave. I shot my boss a text and he told me to go ahead, he'll approve it tomorrow morning." You informed.

"That's great, aegi. So, you can take the time to just relax and immerse yourself in nature with me." He smiled. You nodded with a hum and sat down.

"Thank you for the food, Yoongi." You picked up your chopsticks.

"You're very welcome. Eat up, aegi." He removed the bone from the galbi and placed the meat on your rice.

After dinner, you did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen while Yoongi did his own packing. He never went anywhere without his music and sound recording equipment.

"You know, usually partners would get nagged at for bringing work things on vacation." Yoongi joked.

"Why would I nag you on something that brings you happiness? If by chance, that's work. So be it." You shrugged.

"You're something else, aegi." He chuckled and shook his head, carefully packing his expensive equipment into their foam cases and zipping up his guitar. Then he grabbed his computer bag to pack his laptop and all the wires. It was satisfying to watch him pack, he was so neat and meticulous.

"Would you prefer me to nag...?" You teased. He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. Once he was done, you placed all your things by the door.

"Okay, we have a few hours to sleep then we have to go." He reached out to hold your hand.

"I'm excited! I haven't seen this new estate." You clapped your hands happily.

"Oh, that's right! I forgot you haven't seen the estate before... And I event went again for song camp when producing D-Day." Yoongi slapped his forehead in realisation and you nodded.

"Of course I wouldn't go for song camp." You said. You knew you wouldn't value add and just be a distraction if you went."

"I think you'll like it, there's a lot more space than the first Soop location they rented." He squeezed toothpaste onto your toothbrush.

"But the company actually owns this place, right? Like the whole area. The first estate was a rental." You asked. He hummed and began to brush his teeth, so did you.

"I'll set an alarm. Goodnight, aegi." Yoongi mumbled, eyes on his phone, playing his basketball game.

"Goodnight, Yoon." You wished back, tucking yourself against his side. As he used his phone, his other hand absentmindedly stroked your head, which lulled you to sleep really quickly. Left with only 3 hours to sleep, he put his phone away to join you in dreamland.

--

"Everything is packed." You zipped up the cooler bag with all the food that you prepared last night. Yoongi insisted on handling most of the bags, loading them into the car.

"So I'll leave the car at HYBE while we're at the estate. The others should be making their way there, the bus leaves at 6." He said.

"Mmm..." You hummed, still tired.

"Aigoo, my precious girl. You can sleep on the bus." Yoongi leaned over to cup your cheeks. You pouted at him, making him chuckle as he started the car to drive.

"(y/n)!" Your name was yelled across the carpark as you and Yoongi unloaded the bags.

"Shhh! Taehyung ah, you're too loud." Jimin chided.

"Hi." You waved, trying to hide your yawn as you helped Yoongi with the bags. Of course, the boys took over the bags, sharing the load especially with Yoongi's music and recording equipment. You all took the lift up to the back of HYBE, where the bus was waiting and the other boys were boarding.

"Good morning." You bowed to the others and Yoongi sent them a lazy wave, passing the bags to the bus captain who was loading them into storage.

"Glad you could join us." Namjoon smiled.

"Thank you for having me." You giggled, adjusting the scarf Yoongi bundled around your neck.

"Oh my, Jungkook's bringing Bam? Hello, Bamie~" You cooed as Jungkookg walked over with the doberman. Bam jumped excitedly, standing on his hind legs to sniff you and lick you.

"I've missed you too, big baby. Yes, good boy." You rubbed your ears. When Yoongi was done, he grabbed your hand.

"Let's get out of the cold." He said softly and led you to the bus, helping you up the steps.

"(y/n) packed food for everyone." Yoongi announced to the other boys who were settling in their seats, and Jungkook was trying to settle Bam down.

"Thank you, (y/n)! You're a life saver." The boys all threw thanks their way. Jin volunteered to have the cooler bag of food beside him since he had a spare seat beside him and he could help hand it out to the boys for you.

"Yes, she is." Yoongi mumbled under his breath with a chuckle but you heard him.

"You don't have to stay awake, aegi. Go to sleep." He put his arm around you. With such a big bus, everyone took alternate rows to be able to recline their seats comfortably.

"The rice balls are good, (y/n)!" Jungkook said, his words muffled by the food he stuffed in his mouth.

"Yah. You're getting rice everywhere." Hoseok chided.

"Thank you." You replied with a giggle before leaning back in your seat. You didn't know when you fell asleep but Yoongi opened the small lap blanket he brought and draped it over you.

"Can we dim the lights a little?" Yoongi requested. The manager asked the bus driver to lower the lights.

"So hyung, how happy are you to have her here?" Jimin asked from across the aisle, watching Yoongi draw the curtains and adjust the overhead airconditioning vent so it wasn't blowing in your face. Yoongi turned around to glare at the younger before checking on you, making sure you didn't hear Jimin.

"Thankfully she had enough vacation days to come with us. She deserves a nice break too." Yoongi replied, not answering Jimin's question directly.

"You're always afraid to gush about her, around her. You do it silently, behind her back." Taehyung pointed out with a laugh.

"I don't gush about her. I just appreciate her and what she does for me." Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Sure, hyung. You don't gush... keep telling yourself that." Namjoon chuckled, eyes still trained on his kindle. Luckily the bus was dark that they couldn't see the light blush on Yoongi's cheeks.

"I don't gush." Yoongi looked back at your sleeping face, not sure who he was trying to convince at this point.

When you woke up, you felt Yoongi's head on your shoulder and tried your best not to move.

"Jimin, can you hand me my phone there?" You whispered to the male who was playing his nintendo switch. He nodded and reached over to get your phone from the seat pocket.

"Thank you." You smiled softly. Like all younger brothers do, Jimin retrieved his own phone and snapped a picture of sleeping Yoongi on your shoulder before retreating back to his seat to continue his game. You chuckled and shook your head.

"He's going to kill you if he knows." You told him.

"Then don't tell him." Jimin snickered. You spent the remainder of hte bus ride on your phone, not wanting to move to disturb Yoongi.

"We're here, everyone. Wake up!" Namjoon stood up. You gently patted Yoongi's thigh to wake him. His eyes fluttered open and he looked around.

"Good morning, Yoongi." You giggled.

"Good morning, aegi." He yawned and stretched his arms. As everyone was busy gathering their stuff, you gave him a peck.

"Come on, let's get off this bus." He helped you pack and held your hand as you got off the bus. Standing in the mansion estate, it was so much bigger than what the television showed.

"Let's go, Bam!' Jungkook let Bam off his leash and started running towards his room with his bags in tow.

"He has so much energy." Jin clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"All he did was sleep and eat on the bus." Hoseok laughed. You were unsure of where to go so you just followed Yoongi. He slid open one of the sliding doors to a room in one of the villas. Like Yoongi said, it was exactly like Jungkook and Bam's room in the show, practically like a studio apartment without a kitchen.

"Wow, I can't believe this is just one section of the villa." You said, pushing the suitcases to the corner.

"Yeah, each room has a small living space and bathroom. Then the kitchen and big living room is in the main mansion." Yoongi said, closing the door behind him.

"I do watch In The Soop, you know?" You teased. He scoffed and went into the room.

"Ah. This is comfy." He laid on the bed.

"It's so nice and tranquil here." You said, moving to lay on him, resting your head on his chest. Yoongi lazily threw an arm over your shoulders to hold you.

"As much as I would like to continue sleeping in an actual bed, we need lunch. Everyone ate your food but you." Yoongi said.

"But I'm not hungry." You yawned, burying your face into his chest. Yoongi kissed the top of your head.

"Lovebirds! Are we doing lunch or what?" You heard Jin's voice from your door. You yelled out an acknowledgement to the oldest and immediately got up, making Yoongi let out an annoyed groan from behind you.

"We'll wash up and be right there!" You smiled to Jin. He nodded, giving you a thumbs up before leaving to head to the mansion. You went to wash your face.

"Aegiiii..." Yoongi drowned out and leaned his body against yours, his hands holding your waist from behind.

"I'm trying to wash my face!" You squealed, feeling his fringe tickle the back of your neck.

After you and Yoongi washed up, you convinced him to at least have lunch. Hand in hand, you strolled to the mansion. Yoongi looked around the place, ruffling his hair with his free hand.

"What are you craving for?" Yoongi asked, the both of you removing your shoes before entering the mansion.

"I'll have what the others are having. You know I'm not picky." You shrugged.

"I know but I'd much rather cook something you want to eat and not something the younger ones want." He chuckled. The two of you saw the others playing games in the living room.

"Woah, be careful, aegi." He grasped your waist to move you out of the way before Taehyung could accidentally hit you while challenging Jin and Jungkook.. You followed him to the kitchen to help him cook. Yoongi opened the fridge to look at what the managers had stocked up for your stay here.

"What about cheesy dakgalbi?" He turned to you, smiling when he saw your eyes light up with excitement and happiness. You nodded your head.

"I'll cut the vegetables, you can handle the meat." You told him.

"You should rest. Let me cook." Yoongi crossed his arms as you took out the cabbage, carrots, onions and potatoes.

"I am resting. Doing this with you is rest." You said, retrieving a cutting board and knife. Yoongi shot you a flat look but didn't argue, preparing the chicken and marinade.

"What are we cooking?" Hoseok came into the house with Jimin. The shorter male joined the others in the living room, playing games.

"Dakgalbi." Yoongi replied.

"Anything I can help with? Make some coffee?" Hoseok suggested. You and Yoongi immediately nodded.

"Coffee would be amazing, Seok. Thank you." You giggled, chopping the cabbage and putting all the vegetables into a bowl for Yoongi to cook with later.

"Oooh, this smart stove is really cool." You watched Yoongi put two big pans over the stove. With 8 people, he probably thought it would be easier to eat out of two pans rather than everyone trying to get into one pan.

"I'll make some gyeranmari and dumplings to eat on the side." You said, cooking on the stove at the back. After giving you both your coffees, Hoseok helped you with cooking the sides.

"Lunch! Call whoever is not here!" Yoongi yelled.

"Coming!" Those in the living room came out. Taehyung called Namjoon over while Jungkook grabbed cutlery.

You all sat together to eat, some of the boys sharing the microwave rice packs, knowing they will probably use the leftovers to make fried rice to share later.

"Thank you for cooking!" The boys chimed before digging in.

"Mmm." You nodded happily. Yoongi placed some chicken on your plate, his free arm resting on the back of your chair the entire time.

"This is just what I needed! We should bring you on vacations more often, (y/n)." Taehyung exclaimed happily, making a wrap with the chicken and eating it in one mouthful.

"She's not your personal chef." Yoongi sent Taehyung a look but you knew they were just joking.

After lunch was done, those that didn't cook were on clean up duty. Yoongi took the opportunity to get you out of there. He grasped your wrist and practically dragged you back your shared room at the villa, making it clear he didn't really want to stay and socialise with the other members anymore.

"You're being anti social. Maybe the boys want to spend more time with you." You slapped his arm.

"We can do that another time. Now is me and you time." He huffed, removing his hoodie so he was just in his undershirt.

"I need to use the bathroom." You went to the bathroom, also getting out of your uncomfortable clothes. You changed into something comfier, aka Yoongi's shirt.

"We're going to stay in bed until we are called for dinner." Yoongi said when you entered the room.

"I like that plan." You giggled and fell on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you to turn you around so you were on your sides.

"I'm just happy to spend time with you." You reached out to cup his cheeks, caressing the skin with your thumbs. Yoongi gave you a gummy smile and lifted your hands to kiss your fingertips.

"Are you sleepy?" He asked.

"No, I think I slept enough in the bus." You said, betrayed by your yawn.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." He stroked the back of your head. You scoffed and pulled away, sitting up to lean against the headboard with an intention to read. Yoongi shifted himself so his head could rest in your lap.

"You should sleep more." You patted his head, knowing that he probably didn't sleep well on the bus.

It felt so peaceful and normal to spend time with Yoongi like this. With you, he wasn't an idol, he was just your boyfriend and the two of you were spending some time off together.

"Feeling sleepy yet?" He murmured sleepily, hugging your legs like a bolster.

"No, I'm not. Now, stop interrupting my reading." You said. It didn't take long for Yoongi to fall asleep.

"(y/n)? Are you here?" You looked up from your book to find Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook at your doorway. Luckily Yoongi pulled the blanket to hide your bare legs.

"Shh..." You hushed them, pointing to the sleeping Yoongi who was hugging your legs.

"Come play." They waved you over.

"But..." You gestured to the sleeping Yoongi. No one ever dares to wake Yoongi up, maybe except Taehyung with kindergarten music playing in the background. The 3 couldn't help you now since you were pantless and you were pretty sure Yoongi might have an aneurysm if he knew that they saw you.

"Go, I'll come out in a bit." You told them. They gave you thumbs ups and closed the bedroom door. Looking down at Yoongi, you carefully shifted away, replacing your legs with a pillow quickly.

"Sorry." You stroked his head in case he woke up. It was hard when he had almost all his weight on your legs.

"I'll be back." You leaned down to kiss his cheek. Yoongi didn't seem bothered by you moving him.

Looking around, you grabbed a pair of sweats and put it on before going out, where the 3 boys were waiting for you in the tiny living room area.

"Let's go!" Taehyung held your hand and pulled you out.

"Where did she gooooo?" Yoongi groaned, feeling the pillow against his cheek instead of you. He sat up, seeing the sun starting to set.

"Aegi?" He called out from bed but there was no reply. Ruffling his hair and yawning, he got out of bed and noticed that his sweats were missing from the floor.

"Nooooo!" Yoongi heard your squeal and grabbed a new pair of pants, going out to see where you were.

There you were, playing in the rain with Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. Jungkook was chasing after you and Jimin with an evil smile. Yoongi grabbed an umbrella and exited the room, he stood there quietly, watching all of you play.

"Oh! Yoongi!" You spotted your cat-like boyfriend, standing there with his black umbrella, and waved at him. Yoongi smiled back at you. Since you were distracted, Jungkook suddenly grabbed you.

"Ah!" You yelped in shock as he lifted you up.

"Yah! Be careful with her!" Yoongi barked, coming over to where you all were playing.

"I'm fine, Yoongi. Don't worry." You grinned, drenched from head to toe. Yoongi sighed and reached out to move gently your wet hair away from your face.

"I'm going to get started on dinner. You guys should go dry up so we can eat." Yoongi said.

"Aww!" Everyone jeered but Yoongi was not budging, he was really worried about you catching a cold.

Despite you already being damp, Yoongi still sheltered you with his umbrella all the way back to your share room. He entered first to put a towel on the flower so you wouldn't slip coming in.

"Leave your clothes in that bathroom when you're done. I'll put them in the dryer later." Yoongi told you. You nodded and leaned forward to give him a grateful peck on the cheek but you were careful not to let your wet hair drip onto his clothes. After that, he left you to shower and warm yourself up.

"(y/n), are you heading to the main house?" You caught Namjoon coming down from the room upstairs.

"Yeah. But I think the spare umbrellas are there and Yoongi took the only one that was here." You said, holding your wet clothes in your hands after you wrung out all the water.

"Come, I'll take you." He smiled.

"Thank you!" You ducked under the umbrella with him and walked towards the main house.

"So, I saw you guys playing out in the rain from my window earlier. Can't believe the younger ones managed to rope you into their antics." Namjoon chuckled.

"It was all fun, you should have joined us. We're just kids at heart, playing in the rain and puddle stomping." You giggled.

"Maybe next time." He slid open the door for you to enter.

"Definitely. Hey, Yoon. Don't worry, I got my clothes." You greeted your boyfriend, who was cooking in the kitchen with Jin. He nodded in acknowledgement and you brought your damp clothes to the laundry area, throwing your clothes into the wash.

"Thanks for walking her over, Namjoon ah." Yoongi nodded over to the leader. Namjoon smiled and headed to the living room.

"I could have brought it in for you to be washed, aegi." Yoongi came into the laundry room.

"It's fine, it's just a few pieces of laundry. You're already busy with dinner." You laughed, starting the machine. The two of you walked out, hand in hand.

"Look at you two being inseparable." Jin teased, clicking the tongs in his hands. Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn't let you go.

When you first started dating and being more open around the other members, you and Yoongi would have separated if one of the members teased you. But now, Yoongi wouldn't part from you.

"I'll cook the rice and ramyeon." You tied your hair up.

"You should sit. You already cooked lunch." Yoongi said to you, patting your hip.

"You cooked lunch too. Plus you and Jin already did most of the work. It's just rice and ramyeon." You smiled. Yoongi nodded and helped you tuck your stray hairs behind your ears so they wouldn't bother you. You washed your hands and went to scoop the rice into the rice cooker.

"Wow, it's smelling good!" Jimin said as he came in, running his hands over his damp hair.

"Can you get the side dishes out from the fridge?" Jin requested. Jimin saluted and went to do that. While waiting for the rice to cook, you got the cutlery and plates to set the table.

"What are you doing now?" Taehyung shuffled over to you. You pointed to the ramyeon stack.

"Can I help?" He asked.

"Sure. I just need to open all these before the water boils." You giggled. Jungkook might be the youngest but Taehyung was everyone's baby brother.

"Once that's all done, we can eat. Get your drinks and rice." Yoongi announced to everyone.

"Yes, hyung!" Everyone went to line up with their rice bowls while you continued to cook the ramyeon.

"I got your rice, aegi." Yoongi told you.

"Thanks, Yoon. It's almost done." You said to everyone. Once the noodles were done, Jungkook came to help you carry the pot to the table. You took your seat beside Yoongi and he cracked open your can of soda for you.

"Thank you for cooking~" Everyone dug into the food hungrily. As always, the dinner conversation was spent chatting and laughing, as well as reminiscing old memories.

And as the others cleared up after dinner, you sat with Yoongi in the living room. He nestled a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Come." He called you to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you.

"Are you sleepy? I bet you didn't nap earlier since the younger ones dragged you out to play." He asked. You shook your head but was betrayed by your yawn.

"You're such a liar." Yoongi snorted.

"Am not." You scoffed, pinching his side. When clean up was done, the others invited you to play some games.

"Refill?" Namjoon asked Yoongi, refilling his own whiskey glass after coming down from the mini reading corner upstairs. The two of them always enjoyed reading with a glass of whiskey.

"I'm good. Thanks." Yoongi placed his empty glass down.

"Yoongi! I won! Did you see that?! I am the champion!" You turned to your boyfriend and pointed to the screen, squealing in excitement. Yoongi leaned his head on his hand with an endearing smile and nodded his head, giving you a thumbs up, he was like a parent watching his child play and win for the first time.

"Rematch!" The boys protested.

"No way! I'm going to bed." You stuck your tongue out at them, causing them to jeer at you. Hearing what you said, Yoongi put his glass down on the table and stood up.

"You don't have to go with me, you know? You can stay with them if you're not tired." You giggled.

"No, I'm tired too." Yoongi said.

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow." You all wished each other. After he placed his whiskey glass in the sink, Yoongi and you walked hand in hand back to your shared room.

"I'm not going with you because I have to, it's because I want to. So don't feel like you're making me do anything." Yoongi suddenly said.

"I know. But it's your vacation too. I don't want you to feel like you have to stick with me constantly." You shrugged.

"I'll gladly stick with you 24/7, that's my ideal vacation." He smiled softly. You lightly punched his arm for being so cheesy. Yoongi would only act this way around you privately and you liked that.

"You can set up your music stuff here if you prefer the space here over the camper. I don't mind it, really." You told him as you squeezed toothpaste onto both your toothbrushes. Honestly, you were so used to Yoongi and his music equipment, it didn't bother you.

"This is our space and since I'm working with some of the members, I don't want them coming in and out." He explained.

"I don't mind it if it makes things more convenient for you." You smiled.

"I mind. I prefer our privacy. The camper's just there so it's not a far walk but thank you for offering, aegi." He rubbed your back. The two of you brushed your teeth and washed your faces.

"Alright, you can change your mind any time." You said as you wiped your face with a clean towel.

"Thank you." He kissed your temple and left you to do your skincare.

"Surprisingly, there are still people sending me messages, congratulating me on finishing my military service." Yoongi noted, sitting at the table with his iPad.

"Maybe they didn't know you finished and saw a news article so they congratulated you now." You giggled.

"Yeah, Halsey asked when we are going back to America to visit her and her family." He said.

"Sure, if your schedule allows it. I can't wait to see Ender again. Children change a lot in 2 years." You said. Yoongi nodded in agreement with a small hum. Of course, you followed him to America on holiday and Yoongi insisted he meet the celebrities that he was close with.

What fans didn't know was that your home wallpaper on your phone was the full, actual picture of Yoongi snuggling up to Ender when you both visited him as a baby.

"Maybe this time he won't give me stares when I say hi to him." Yoongi scoffed.

"Please, he loved you! You were just an awkward uncle at the start." You giggled, walking over to him.

"I still am an awkward uncle. I was never one that was great with children. Taehyung and Jimin are great with kids, even clumsy Namjoon is." He said, hands resting on your waist.

"You're great at a lot of other things, so what if you're not comfotable with children." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"Thanks, aegi." He laughed, pressing his forehead against your middle.

After Yoongi finished replying to some emails, the two of you changed and headed to bed but you both didn't sleep just yet. One thing you and Yoongi liked to do was just lay on your bed and use your phones, scrolling on social media.

"Look, it's you." You showed him a video of a white kitten that was sleeping on the couch like a human. Yoongi rolled his eyes and turned back to look at his own phone.

"How was your first day here?" Yoongi asked you.

"Good. It's nice to get away and spend some time with the others." You giggled and Yoongi hummed.

"Besides, isn't this technically the first holiday you guys are taking as 7? It's nice to just have a break for yourselves." You said. Yoongi nodded his head.

"Yeah, no cameras before the next comeback." Yoongi put his phone to charge and turned back to look at you.

"I can't wait for the new Run BTS episodes." You teased, charging your own phone.

"The fans will realise that military didn't change us. We're still the same competitive people that will fight over a cup of ramyeon." Yoongi chuckled as you scooted closer to him.

"And I love that about all of you. You never let anything change you." You reached up to cup his cheek.

"I love you." He held your hand and kissed your fingertips. You smiled softly and leaned in to give him a peck before burying your face against his chest. You felt Yoongi move slightly so he could pull the blanket up to cover the both of you, making sure you were well tucked in and warm.

"Goodnight." You wished. Yoongi grunted and threw his leg over you to hold you even clsoer to him. Even if you usually started cuddling, you and Yoongi would usually break apart at night.

"Are you cold? I can adjust the aircon." Yoongi asked, his hand stroking the exposed skin of your hip.

"I'm okay. The blanket is warm enough." You snuggled against him.

"Shall I wake you up for breakfast tomorrow or do you want to wait until you wake up on your own?" He checked. You hummed, knowing Yoongi was quite an early riser.

"I'll wake up a little later. Maybe 10? In case you wake up at like... 7 am." You groaned.

"I don't wake up THAT early. With you around, I tend to wake up late and stay in bed longer." Yoongi chuckled, pinching your cheek.

You slept comfortably with Yoongi, feeling relaxed and tranquil. Usually Yoongi didn't sleep well in a bed that wasn't his own but with you, he could sleep anywhere.

"Yoongi hyung?" Yoongi woke up when he heard someone call him. Even if it was another member, he sat up and instinctively moved to shield your body with his own, since you didn't wear pants to sleep. Taehyung stood at your doorway.

"I completely forgot (y/n) was here. I'm sorry!" Taehyung's eyes widened when he realised.

"Go out. I'll come out." Yoongi said, voice riddled with sleep. Taehyung obediently went to the living room area. With a soft sigh, Yoongi turned to check on you.

"Who was it...?" You mumbled.

"Taehyung. I'll be back, go back to sleep." He kissed your temple and went out.

"Sorry! I really forgot (y/n) was here, we usually just go to each other's rooms to wake each other up..." Taehyung looked so distraught Yoongi didn't have to heart to say anything.

"It's fine, Taehyung. Just tell me, what do you need?" Yoongi yawned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jin hyung's making noodles for breakfast and he wanted to ask if you and (y/n) want some." He relayed. Yoongi looked at the clock.

"Oh, it's 9 already... No, it's okay, thanks for coming to ask. I think we'll just wait for lunch." Yoongi said. Taehyung nodded with a salute and left. Yoongi went back to the room, making sure to close and lock the door this time. He fell back into bed with a long exhale and got under the blanket with you.

"Who was it..." You breathed out, turning to face Yoongi.

"Boys asking if we want breakfast. But I told them we'll stay in bed and just have lunch later." He said, his arm going around your shoulders to hold you to his chest.

"Good idea. I'm not ready to leave the bed." You yawned and buried your face against him.

"Mmm, sleep more." He patted your head. Although Yoongi didn't want to sleep more, he didn't want to move from the bed too.

"We came all the way here just to sleep." You chuckled, voice slightly muffled but of course, Yoongi understood you. Under your cheek, his chest shook as he laughed.

"Isn't that the best holiday?" He asked, stroking your back. This was the ideal holiday to him.

"I guess... We won't have time to sleep in and spend time like this once you guys start having comebacks again." You said.

"That's true." He hummed.

"What time do you have to get up to record?" You asked, obviously you were not going back to sleep too. But it felt nice to be as close to Yoongi as possible.

"Not sure, don't worry about it. We'll always find time. Anyway, we're here to relax, not work. I'll just find Jungkook later to do the guide vocals, I'm sure he is also going to sleep in." He snorted. You nodded in agreement.

"But working on music is a form of relaxation to you." You teased. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"There you go again, spreading those sort of rumours like Jin hyung. I'm not a workaholic, you know? I'm not always working on music, I have a life outside of work." He scoffed.

"Mmm, sure."

"My life outside of work is you. If I didn't have a life outside of music, I wouldn't have you." He stated.

"You're so cheesy, stop it." You reached up to cover his mouth with your hand. Yoongi chuckled and took your hand, planting a light kiss against your palm.

"Soon, I'll be back to watching you backstage or from the wings. And more late night visits to your studio." You sighed.

"Do you miss it?" He asked.

"I thought I wouldn't when you were in the military but I think I do miss it, just a little. But I realised that I'll always miss you when I'm not with you. It's going to take me a while to adjust." You said.

"Now who is being the cheesy one?" Yoongi poked your side, making you squirm. You lifted your head, moving your body up slightly to hug Yoongi properly, winding your arms around his neck. You could feel him plant a kiss to the top of your head, resting his cheek there as his hands rubbed your back lovingly.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you too." You replied without any hesitation. You knew you were going to miss having Yoongi around so much.

Even without saying it, you both shared the same thought, you wanted to spend as much time together as possible before Yoongi's schedules kept him busy.

--

Main masterlist

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 12

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11)

Oof, so this took me forever to write. A week and a half. But now it's finally here, the final post of this meta series. And yes, I did hit 20k words by the finale, oops. The analysis part alone is at 20.1k words. In total, this meta series is at 150k words. When I wrote that very first post about episodes 1+2 in on single sitting, pulling an all-nighter to both write, gif, and publish it I never expected it to turn into this huge project that has become. Don't ask how much sleep I was getting while I was writing these metas. And don't ask how my studies have been going since early December (I was gonna write two exams a week from me publishing this but I haven't done any studying so far whatsoever rip). Totally worth it, though. Anyway, I don't wanna keep you on your toes any longer, so have fun <3

By the way, I apologize in advance, but the section cover pics had to go for this one. Instead I bring you.... more gifs! Yay!

Acknowledgments: To everyone who regularly liked and/or reblogged and/or commented... THANK YOU 😘 Your encouragement really kept me going over these past few weeks, even when my brain was feeling really exhausted from thinking so long and so hard about this series and especially this character. I had a blast going on this journey and I'm glad I got to share it with you. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I love you.

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise. And I WILL be specifying otherwise this time hehe.

To recap: Last episode Style got to spend a lovely 24 hours of saying goodbye to Fadel before the one thing that Style has been dreading the most (safe for Fadel's death, probably) happened: Fadel got arrested. And there's nothing Style could do about it but watch. And now he has to live with the fact that his boyfriend will be in prison for the next five long years.

No. 1: Visitors

Kant and Style go visit their boys in prison together and it seems to be their first visit in general, considering how both couples are catching up. We don't know how long it's been since they last saw each other, but I assume it must have been more than just a couple of days, since we later learn that the burger restaurant has already been sold.

Either way, Style is now sitting in front of Fadel, asking him how prison is. Fadel says it's not that bad and Style checks in once more to make sure Fadel is really fine: "Really? You sure you're not saying that just to make me happy? I've seen some interviews, and the people who have been here said it was awful."

After all, Style knows Fadel and he knows Fadel is prone to pretending that everything is fine when really, it isn't. Style even called Fadel out on it in episode 7: "Just admit when it hurts. You don't have to be tough all the time." Back then Style also told Fadel: "I'm worried about you, you know? I was afraid something would happen to you.*"

*กลัวมึงเป็นไรไปอ่ะ [gluua - mueng - bpen rai - bpai - àh] afraid - you - have a problem - [particle] Official subs: I thought you were a goner.

Now, about half a series later Fadel is finally very well aware of just how much Style worries about his well-being and, with a laugh, reassures him once more that prison really isn't that bad. Style lets it go and tells Fadel: "I really miss you, though." And let me just share what I learned when I asked my Thai friend about the phrase ก็...อยู่ดี [gôh ... yùu dii], because I wasn't entirely sure what it meant: according to my friend it means "still" (German speakers: he translated it as "immer noch"), so the line goes more like:

But I still miss you. แต่กูก็คิดถึงมึงอยู่ดีนะ [dtàe - guu - gôh - kít-tĕung - mueng - yùu dii - ná] but - I - miss - you - still - [na]

They've been separated for a while now, but Style still misses Fadel. Style hasn't stopped missing Fadel. Fadel acknowledges that and tells him "When you do, just come visit." And for those curious about the literal wording (it doesn't really change anything, but I know you guys love this <3):

If you miss me, then come visit me like this. ถ้ามึงคิดถึงกูอ่ะ ก็มาหากูแบบนี้นะ [tâa - mueng - kít-tĕung - guu - àh • gôh - maa hăa - guu - bàep níi - ná] if - you - miss - me - [particle] • then - come visit - me - like this - [particle]

Style doesn't say anything. He just smiles at Fadel fondly and in love. Fadel didn't preemptively break up with him last episode and even though there is a barrier between them, Style can still go see Fadel and Fadel also wants Style to come see him. It's not ideal, but things could have been much worse, so Style is happy and also makes the best out of the situation. Just like he always does.

Fadel then asks about the garage and it's the first time we learn that Style's dad is starting to retire and that Style is starting to be busy. This will come up later in the episode again, but for now everyone is still happy. Then Fadel asks about his burger restaurant and both we, the audience, and Fadel learn that it's been sold. Fadel then says he'll find a way to buy it back once he's out of prison and once again we're handed information that will be relevant later in the episode.

Style being Style immediately announces that he'll be helping Fadel find a new place, if he can't get back the old one. And now it's Fadel's turn to smile at Style fondly and in love. Style then asks if Fadel wants anything special. But Fadel doesn't need anything. "Just seeing your face will last me a whole month." And again, the literal wording doesn't really change anything here, but if you're curious, this is what he's saying:

Just you visiting me like this makes me happy for a month. แค่มึงมาหากูแบบเนี่ย กูก็อิ่มใจเป็นเดือนละ [kâe - mueng - maa hăa - guu - bàep nîia • guu - gôh - ìm-jai - bpen deuuan - lá] just - you - come visit - me - like this • I - [sentence link] - happy, pleased - for a month - [particle]

Fadel uses the word อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai] here (which I translated as "happy") and that's funny to me personally, because this word already came up when I was discussing a different sentence from episode 11 with my Thai friend. You know when Fadel and Style are in the kitchen in episode 11 and Fadel talks about how he wants to do what he loves with the person he loves? And then he says "It makes me happy". The word that was translated as "happy" in Thai is อิ่ม [ìm], which actually translates to "full". And I had my friend watch the scene and asked "What does he mean 'full', what does that mean in this context??" and my friend explained that in this context it means "happy" and mentioned the word อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai], which he also explained to mean "happy". The literal translation, though, is actually "full heart" (as in the heart is full → you're happy). And then this exact word that I learned comes up in episode 12, I love it. So yeah, Fadel is basically telling Style that he doesn't need anything, because Style visiting him in prison is enough to make is heart full/fill up his heart for a month. And from the way Fadel raises his eyebrows and smiles cheekily when he says the อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai] part, I assume it's just as cheesy in Thai as it is in English, especially judging by Style's reaction afterwards.

Style is amused, impressed, as well as touched by Fadel's cheesiness and asks: "What did they feed you in there? How come you're this sweet?*"

*ทำไมถึงหวานขนาดเนี้ย [tam-mai tĕung - wăan - kà-nàat níia] how come, why - sweet - to this extent Official subs: You're way too sweet.

If you read last episode's meta you might remember how I went over the development to from โหด [hòht] (= harsh, aggressive, brutal) to หวาน [wăan] (= sweet) and I just love how this time around, the word โหด [hòht] doesn't even get mentioned anymore. They went from Style using only the word โหด [hòht] in episode 4 ("No matter how harsh you are, I'm still hooked on you." / Official subs: "It doesn't matter how scary you are, I'm still hooked."), to them making comments about and discussing Fadel being both harsh (โหด [hòht]) and sweet (หวาน [wăan]) in episodes 7, 9, and 11, and now in the finale Style only uses the word หวาน [wăan] (= sweet). It's the polar opposite of episode 4. I love it.

(By the way, I'm not gonna copy and paste all the direct quotes again, so if you wanna look at the lines and the development of "harsh vs sweet" in detail, please refer to section 7 of my ep11 meta.)

Style continues to say "If you say such sweet things, it'll only make me want to hold you and kiss you even more, you know?" and I'm just gonna share the literal wording again:

The sweeter like this you are ยิ่งมึงหวานแบบเนี่ย [yîng - mueng - wăan - bàep nîia] the more - you - sweet - like this the more I really want to embrace you and (sniff) kiss you on the cheek, you know that? กูยิ่งอยากกอดอยากหอมมึงมากเลยรู้ป่ะ [guu - yîng - yàak - gòht - yàak - hŏhm - mueng - mâak loiie - rúu - bpà] I - the more - want - hug, embrace - want - (sniff) kiss - you - very much - know - ?

In the official subtitles Style says just "kiss you", but the word he uses here in Thai is หอม [hŏhm] which, from what I've picked up so far, usually refers specifically to a kiss on the cheek, especially those sniff-kisses. And that's what prompts Fadel to turn his head and offer his cheek to Style — because Style specifically asked to kiss Fadel's cheek.

Also, something about the way Style says this and the way he emphasizes and drags out the word หอม [hŏhm] kind of really reminds me of the way he emphasized and dragged out the word หวาน [wăan] (= sweet) when he shouted "My meat is sweet, I tell you!" in episode 3, and watching these two lines back-to-back actually shows the development so beautifully:

In episode 3, Style is so very loud and he doesn't mean what he is saying at all, he isn't taking his words seriously whatsoever. His words are a performance and the world (or rather the market, in this case) is his audience. In episode 11, his words are still a performance, but now it's a private show for Fadel and Fadel alone. Fadel is the sole member of his audience and what Style is saying isn't meant for anyone else but Fadel. Style is serious about it now and he really means it. By the episode 12, Style is still loud in his personality, but compared to episode 3 his demeanor is so much calmer and he is also much more grounded.

The difference is also in Fadel's reaction: in episode 3 when Style isn't taking what he's saying and doing seriously whatsoever, Fadel doesn't have time for him. He rolls his eyes and just leaves him standing there. In episode 12, when Style means every single thing he says and does, Fadel actually leans closer and then presents his cheek to Style, going along with Style's antics instead of blocking or ditching him. Style blows a cheek at Fadel and we leave them as they continue to make heart-eyes at each other.

No. 2: This Is Torture

Style puts on his cheerful face when he's in front of Fadel, and while I don't think any of the above was a mask, because I think he is definitely genuinely happy to talk to Fadel, there is still some frustration that Style only lets out as soon as he's away from Fadel, similar to how he didn't fully cry until Fadel was completely gone at the end of last episode. "Kant, I can't do this," Style complains and let me just share the real vibe of his sentence:

Ai'Kant, I can't fucking do this anymore. ไอ้กานต์ กูแม่งไม่ไหวแล้วว่ะ [âi Kant • guu - mâeng - mâi - wăi - láew - wâ] Ai'Kant • I - [rude interjection] - not - able to, can - anymore - [rude particle]

I usually don't bother to point out sanitized subtitles, but here I thought it was appropriate, because first of all, Style using curse words and rude language really underlines just how frustrated he really is about this from his first line of the scene on and second of all, to me with the cursing it comes across as even more dramatic and I mean, the drama is what we've all come to love about Style, isn't it? Kant agrees and once again Style is much more dramatic in the original wording than he is in the official translation:

What's torturous is going in and being able to chat only for a few minutes. ที่มันทรมานอ่ะ คือเข้าไปคุยได้ไม่กี่นาทีไง [tîi - man - tor-rá-maan - àh • keu - kâo bpai - kui - dâai - mâi gìi -naa-tii - ngai] that - it - torture, be tortured - [particle] • is - enter, get in - talk, chat - be able to, can - not many - minute(s) - [particle] Official subs: The worst part is only getting a few minutes to talk to him.

Yeah. Style explicitly calls it torture that he can only see Fadel's face but can't touch him. He continues with the drama:

We're close, but so damn far away. ใกล้แต่ไกลฉิบหายเลยมึง [glâi - dtàe - glai - chìp-hăai - loiie - mueng] close - but - far - [impolite intensifier] - [particle for emphasis] - you Official subs: We’re so close but it feels so far.

Style is frustrated, almost downright angry even. Kant agrees again and when Style then asks "Is there no way we could hold them in our arms again?" There's a hint of desperation and impatience now mixed in with the frustration. Kant informs Style that there's a special visiting day, but it's only once a year. And here we have the biggest clue as to just how unhappy Style really is with the situation. Style, who usually stays optimistic and tries to find the bright side in things, is very dissatisfied about those news. Even positive Style can't see how the special visiting day is a good thing. Because once a year just really isn't enough, no matter how he looks at it. Kant throws him a glance. Style is sitting in the passenger's seat, head downcast, looking very dispirited and crestfallen.

Kant thinks some thoughts for a moment. Then he announces "I think I have an idea that will give us more than just a hug." Style lifts his head again. He's listening.

No. 3: Prison Break

For Kant's idea to work they need Captain Christ's help and they go meet him in a parking lot. They let Captain Christ know they wanna get into jail to see their boyfriends and Captain Christ actually asks the reasonable question of "Can't you just visit them?" No. They cannot. Because looking at them through a barrier is simply just not enough. Style starts listing all the things he wants to do to Fadel and he's clearly thought about this a lot. He gets lost in his own world a little the longer he goes on, clearly seeing everything he's describing in front of his mental eye, clearly seeing Fadel himself in front of his mental eye. And in a parallel to both episode 4 and episode 11, Style trails off at the end, leaving it up to the audience to imagine just what exact kind of things Style wants to do to/with Fadel (fanfiction, anyone?). Style pulls himself out of his fantasy and back into the real world, sighing and shaking his head in a way that reads to me like frustration about the fact that he can't be doing all of that. Kind of like Come on, man, get it together... The circumstances won't let you have your fantasies anyway. When the shot changes to Captain Christ, we can see that Style is even looking towards the ground. We can't see his face, but just from his dissatisfied expression just now we could interpret his hanging head as disappointment or sadness or both about not being able to do all the things he just talked about.

Captain Christ says that Style is crazy in love and from the way that Captain raises his eyebrows and the way the corners of his mouth twitch into a bit of a smirk when he's done speaking has me think Captain Christ was saying it to tease Style, but I think the teasing passes right by Style, because he makes a skeptical face, kind of like a bit of an annoyed and maybe slightly defensive What?? or maybe even a bit of an And what's wrong with that?

Captain Christ discards his cigarette and starts asking questions about just how exactly Kant and Style plan to get into prison, pointing out that he had just helped Kant wipe his slate clean. Kant explains that they aren't planning on getting themselves arrested and asks if Captain Christ knows anyone inside. Captain Christ says he does, then asks: "Don't tell me you want me to help you reenact Prison Break?"

Special shout-out to Style's reaction, because it's definitely in my top 5 moments of the episode, if not my absolute favorite highlight of the episode:

His face makes me laugh and giggle so much, it just really cracks me up. It's like he's thinking to himself Oh I sure wouldn't mind a little prison break... or maybe even Oh this is totally not the exact thing I've been fantasizing about. Let's be real, this would be Style's ideal scenario. But unlucky for Style, that's not the plan that Kant has had in mind.

No. 4: Vocational Training

Kant's idea was to go do some kind of volunteer work (or something along those lines) at the prison. Style, of course, teaches fixing cars, and it's interesting that Fadel actually shows up for that, because without knowing Style was gonna be the one teaching, Fadel could have easily chosen a different activity instead, since we never actually saw him be interested in fixing cars. Maybe Fadel heard about it and it made him think of Style and decided to go check it out in honor of him or to feel closer to him. Either way, Fadel actually shows up to Style's class and from the way Style's jaw drops a little bit I wonder, if this comes as a surprise to Style, since it's not like Style specifically told Fadel he was gonna come in.

Pronoun change! You might have noticed yourself, but the very first thing Style says to Fadel is khun. Style is pretending not to know Fadel. Style continues to speak using no pronouns at all and when Fadel answers, he goes along with Style's pronoun change, using phom to refer to himself. The two of them continue to use the polite phom/khun for the rest of this specific conversation.

Fadel says he doesn't know anything about fixing cars and Style replies it's fine, because Fadel can learn about it. Then he says "If you want to, that is." The expression that Style uses here in Thai is มีใจ [mii jai] which is made up of มี [mii] = "to have" and ใจ [jai] = "heart, mind", so literally it translates to "have (a/the) heart". My friend explained that in this context this phrase means "to have the intention to do something". The funny thing is, though, that I asked my friend about this specific phrase a couple of episodes ago, because Style actually uses it when they're standing by the broken down car in episode 8 when he teases Fadel "Either a hitman like you still have his humanity, or you’re in love with me." In other words, the phrase มีใจ [mii jai] can also mean "to be in love" and now I'm wondering if this specific word choice with this double meaning was very intentional for this episode 12 scene. Especially because Fadel then huffs and smiles a little.

Style walks up to Fadel and tells him "I'll show you every nook and cranny of a car. You'll definitely find some use for what you learn from me. But if you still can't fix cars after that, I'll fix them for you," still using polite pronouns and particles to address Fadel, and somehow this whole thing just really reminds me of their little roleplay at the garage back in episode 5. The way Fadel's eyebrows shoot up and he huffs in amusement really raises the question if Fadel is wondering what kind of payment Style will take for fixing Fadel's car. At the same time, Style offering to fix Fadel's car also works as a callback to the circumstances in which they first met: Style has fixed Fadel's car once before, maybe even twice, if we assume that Style fixed the jeep again between episode 8 and episode 9 when it broke down.

No. 5: A Man Has Wants, A Man Has Needs

At the end of class, Fadel is working on the car and Style uses the chance with everyone else distracted for a little private chat with Fadel. And now that they don't have an audience listening in and appearances to keep up, they're both back to the rude pronouns guu/mueng. Fadel likely sort of already expected that Style would find a way to get to him, because he says he had thought Style would do something illegal to get inside the prison and I think the majority of the fandom thought similarly. I personally realized Kant and Style would be working in prison when I went to rewatch the episode promo like two or so days before the episode and realized that the blue clothes that Fadel was wearing in the shots where Style kissed him on the cheek and threw him against the wall looked like the prison uniform while Style was in normal clothes. At first I thought the shot of the cheek kiss by the car was when Fadel was out of prison again and that it was set in Style's garage, but once it hit me that they were clearly fixing a car while Fadel was in a prison uniform while Style wasn't, that's when I realized that Style was likely there as a volunteer worker (or something along those lines) rather than a prisoner. Unfortunately, I was too busy trying to get my ep11 meta done, so I didn't make a post about my discovery which means I don't have receipts and this brag is completely worthless. Ah, well. At least my ep11 meta is done.

Style says "This is way better" and steps closer to Fadel, reaching out his arm right into Fadel's personal space, seeking proximity before he even says it out loud or touches Fadel at all. Fadel responds to it by immediately moving his own arm closer to Style's hand and while I know that Joong most likely did this as part of their "choreography" so that Dunk would have an easier time grabbing his arm for when Style talks about touching Fadel, the thing is if we're looking at it from the character's perspective, well, Joong might have known Dunk was gonna grab his arm, but Fadel didn't know Style was gonna grab him and so I love this small interaction anyway. Style reaches into Fadel's personal space with his hand and Fadel immediately moves his own hand closer to Style.

And it's only then that Style says: "I get to be close to you and to touch you just like I wanted to." Then Style sneaks a kiss on Fadel's cheek, just like he said he wanted to do in his first scene of the episode. Fadel gets as stressed about it just like I did when I watched the episode for the first time. I mean come on, Style, there are still people around!! I swear to god, the amount of times I've had to remind myself during the prison part that this was a romcom and that this was the final episode of the show and that nothing too bad was gonna happen now...

Fadel scolds Style, but Style doesn't care. He points out: "Why would I come here if I don't get to do anything with you at all?" The whole point of finding a way to get inside the prison was to be able to touch Fadel, to kiss him, to hold him, just like Style was so very desperately wishing he could do in the very beginning of the episode. And he's not gonna pass up that chance, especially when it's been a while since he actually got to feel Fadel's skin.

Fadel sees the guard walk around and tells Style "I can't help you." Then Fadel continues to be grumpy, scolding Style "You said you'd be patient, and you're already losing it?" Style is so used to Fadel's grumpy personality by now that he isn't fazed in the slightest. He comments it with a very quick huff to the side, then goes "A guy has wants and needs, you know?" He smiles a little when the words are out of his mouth and observes Fadel's reaction, eyes fixed on him attentively. Fadel lifts his head, looking a little done, but ends up breaking anyway after staring at Style for a moment. Fadel laughs and turns his head away to hide it, then looks at Style one more time, before directing his attention back to the car. Style watches him with a fond smile and affectionately shakes his head as if to say That's so you of you to first be grumpy, only to fall for my charm in the end anyway, you silly goose. As if I don't know you by now, my love.

After that, Style goes back into teacher mode in order to officially end the class. And I just love how the wide-shot reveals that now both Style and Fadel have their hands in each other's personal space close to the other person's body, their arms criss-crossed. And I also love how Style leans right into Fadel, touching him more when he goes to address the whole class.

Good job at pretending not to know each other, boys. Really. Very inconspicuous.

Fadel does move away from Style a little a moment later while Style continues his "see you next week" speech. But we can still see just how much Style missed touching Fadel, because he seeks out proximity again by tapping Fadel, casually touching him again immediately after he is done ending the class.

Then his eyes also find Fadel's face again, who looks at him very amused. And now that class is over, Style can finally do what he's really here for.

No. 6: Loyal to You

When we cut back to them, they've found a hidden corner and Style is shoving Fadel against a wall, kissing him with great urgency. Once they break apart, Style tells Fadel "I've been dying to do that since the moment I saw you", smiling a very satisfied smile. Fun fact, this time around Style is actually less dramatic in the original wording:

I've been wanting to do this since I saw your face. กูอยากทำแบบนี้ตั้งแต่เห็นหน้ามึงอ่ะ [guu - yàak - tam - bàep níi - dtâng-dtàe - hĕn - nâa mueng - àh] I - want - do - like this - since - see - your face - [particle]

Fadel laughs and says "You're crazy", to which Style replies "Love will make people do crazy things" and let me just share the original wording for a second:

Love makes us do something crazy like this. ความรักอ่ะ ทำให้คนเราทำอะไรบ้าๆ แบบนี้แหละ [kwaam rák - àh • tam hâi - kon rao - tam - à-rai - bâa bâa - bàep níi - làe] love - [particle] • make that, cause - people, we - do - something - crazy - like this - [particle] Official subs: Love will make people do crazy things.

The reason why I'm sharing this isn't, because the translation is inaccurate in any way, but rather because this line reminded me of another line Style says in episode 7 and I just want to point out the similarity in the original wording that isn't as clean in the official translation:

Love makes us do something stupid. ความรักมันทำให้คนเราทำอะไรโง่ๆนะ [kwaam rák - man - tam hâi - kon rao - tam - à-rai - ngôh ngôh - ná] love - it - make that, cause - people, we - do - something - stupid - [particle] Official subs: Love sure makes you do something stupid.

It greatly amuses me that Style went from "Love makes us do stupid things" to "Love makes us do crazy things". Style, lover of love, willing to do stupid and crazy things for the sake of love. He is stupid and crazy enough to even find a way to get into prison for the sole purpose of making out with his boyfriend, because who can wait five whole years, amirite? Style immediately proves his point by continuing to kiss Fadel. But Fadel doesn't let Style kiss him for long, because he has something to say: "Save your sweet words." Funfact, he uses the word นำเน่า [nam nâo] here, which my friend explained to mean "soapy" (as in soap opera like). I think Fadel just called Style "dramatic" without actually calling him dramatic, and I think that might also be the reason why Style steps back with a sigh, looking kind of disappointed and annoyed, before answering Fadel's question of "How did you get in here?"

We know being called dramatic has been a touchy subject for Style before and so has been being pushed away. I think Style had a moment of Does he really not appreciate that I'm here now? Does he not appreciate my efforts? But Style doesn't comment on it, doesn't start an argument, and instead answers Fadel's question. He explains that he'll be teaching at prison every week now thanks to Kant's connections and then says:

I'll get to come and see you every week. จะได้มาเจอมึงทุกอาทิตย์เลย [jà - dâai - maa - jer - mueng - túk - ah-tít - loiie] will - get to - come - see, meet - you - every - week - [particle] Official subs: So I'll see you every week.

Although when Style says this, it's not as joyful as you might expect. There is determination in Style's voice, because he is determined to do this, but there is also a bit of a challenging edge to it and I think it comes from his sudden worry that Fadel might not want him here after all. It's a challenge in the sense of Well, are you happy about me being here once a week from now on or not? He keeps his eyes fixed on Fadel and when Fadel then huffs and smiles almost in disbelief, the look on Style's face softens a little bit before he leans in to kiss Fadel again.

But once more, Fadel isn't letting Style kiss him for long, before he speaks again: "You know… You don’t have to do this." Style goes still as he waits for Fadel to elaborate. And Fadel does:

It's fine if you visit me once a month or once every three months. มาหากูเดือนละครั้งหรือสามเดือนครั้งก็ได้ [maa hăa - guu - deuuan lá kráng - rĕu - săam deuuan kráng - gôh dâai] (come) visit - me - once a month - or - once every three months - it's fine Official subs: I don't mind seeing you once a month or once every three months.

Ah. There it is. Fadel is pushing him away again. Or so Style thinks. Of course Fadel is saying this to be considerate of Style's time and schedule (after all, Style did tell him that things at the garage were getting busy), not wanting Style to get tired and exhausted in the process, but what Style hears is I don't want to see you that often. And now Style is seriously done.

He steps back, tilting his face in a Really, now?? way, presses his lips together unhappily, then raises his eyebrows and firmly tells Fadel: "I did everything I could to be with you, you know?" Style's next question is another challenge to Fadel:

Are you not moved? ไม่ซึ้งบ้างหรอ [mâi - séung - bâang - rŏr] not - touched, moved - any - ? Official subs: You don’t appreciate that?

Fadel breathes out loudly and tilts his head like Oh, come on, it's not like that. But Style is really annoyed now and continues to say: "Or did you already find someone here? I'd expect it of a popular guy like you." You heard him use the anglicism "hot" here, right? Because the second sentence goes more like:

You're hot anyway. ฮอตอยู่แล้วนี่��ึงอ่ะ [hot - yùu - láew - nîi - mueng - àh] hot - be - already - [interjection] - you - [particle]

A little extra info from my Thai friend: according to him in Thai this word doesn't necessarily refer to someone's appearance and to physical attraction, but rather it is used to express someone has a quality or skill that is desirable.

Now I think Style actually being jealous for real can be a valid interpretation of him asking Fadel if he found someone new in prison, but to be honest, personally I don't really think so, or rather I think real jealousy is the case only on a surface level. Because Style knows Fadel, Style knows that Fadel doesn't easily open up to others. Style knows first hand how much work, effort, and persistence it takes to get to Fadel's heart. Style also knows Fadel would absolutely kill him if Style ever cheated on him and so I don't think Style would expect Fadel to be a hypocrite and go cheat on Style just like that himself. So I don't think Style actually expects Fadel to have found himself a new boyfriend in prison for real. No, in my opinion this is about something else deep down. I think Style is actually hurt that Fadel is (seemingly) pushing him away again, the way Fadel has done before so often. And Style has felt hurt from that before, and he's argued with Fadel about that before (most recently last episode during their last supper, and in episode 10 the scene where Style demands to help with the mission as well as the scene where Fadel cries in Style's lap). And I think playing it over apparent jealousy is Style's way of letting Fadel know that he's sulking about this, without starting a full-blown argument. Because at this point Fadel should know better than to keep pushing Style away, especially when Style is putting in so much effort in their relationship again. And part of me also wonders if Style was trying to avoid being called "dramatic" again (remember: touchy subject) if he had outright complained about being pushed away, while jealousy could maybe be taken as a "more valid" or more expected or acceptable reason to be mad.

Style starts to walk off, upset, because fine, if Fadel doesn't want him here then he'll leave him alone. But Fadel catches his arm. Style is sulking and it's Fadel's job now to make up with him. And Fadel does: "No matter where I am, you're the only one for me." Fadel holds him back, pulls him back in, doesn't simply just let Style go. And then promises his loyalty to Style. Something that Style has promised to Fadel many, many times. Fadel's efforts to get Style to stay placate Style again. This is all Style wants: for Fadel to show that he, too, wishes for Style to be in his life and be willing to work for it, the same way Style constantly shows he wishes for Fadel to be and actively works on Fadel being by his side. Style's face softens again, he smiles a little and lets Fadel kiss him.

They go back to making out against the wall. Well. That is, until the prison guard walks in on them. They quickly jump apart and Style rambles some orders about cleaning up, before walking off. And I love that Style can't help but touch Fadel one last time, before he leaves. He really has gone too long without touching Fadel and has to make up for it now.

Language fun fact: Technically, a pronoun switch from guu/mueng to phom/khun isn't actually happening here, because Style actually uses no pronouns at all when he talks to Fadel in front of the guard! Fadel does drop one polite "krub", but that's about it. There are no pronouns this time, but I think it's safe to assume they would have switched to phom/khun again in front of the guard, if the conversation had gone on.

Side Quest: Year 2 or Literal Horny Jail

Alright, sooo, there isn't that much interesting happening in year 2, or rather not interesting enough that I really wanna get into detail and turn this into its own section, but of course I couldn't leave it entirely unaddressed. So a side quest, it is. The brothers' second year in prison turns out to be a happy one, with both couples really obsessed with each other as if they'd only just started dating, sneaking kisses and make-out sessions whenever they can. Somehow, they're never found out. Everyone is happy and pleased, and this is especially significant for Fadel and Style. They're happy and in love and still very much into each other. We don't actually get any scenes of Fadel and Style together during year 3, but I think it's safe to assume that things are going this well throughout the third year, too. Well, until things aren't. Until suddenly we get dropped down to the ground from the high that we had just been taken up to.

No. 7: Busy Bee

Year 4 comes around and with that all the happiness gets thrown right out the window. Because Style, without a warning, suddenly doesn't show up to class one day and instead waits for Fadel in the visiting room. When Fadel walks in, Style addresses him happily, but his happiness is not as bright as we know it can be, it's a bit subdued. Style asks why Fadel took so long and I think it explains why Style doesn't sound as cheerful as usual: I think while Style was waiting, for a moment he got really worried that Fadel wouldn't come to see him.

By the way, yes, Style did phrase it as a question in the original wording:

Why were you so slow? ทำไมช้าจังเลย [tam-mai - cháa - jang loiie] why - slow, late - so much, very much Official subs: Took you forever.

Fadel explains he went to the garage first, but Style wasn't there. Style apologizes for it, then explains he's been very busy. Style had already mentioned at the beginning of the episode that he was busier compared to before, and now he's even more busy than that. So busy that he might not be able to come in and teach as often anymore. He tells Fadel just that and looks at him with sad, apologetic puppy eyes.

Fadel asks why that is and when Style answers, he puts on a very enthusiastic voice in an attempt to make the situation sound as positive as possible. Style explains that he's in charge of the garage now that his dad is retired and updates Fadel on how he's thinking of expanding the business and how he has a lot of projects going on that allowed him to meet more people in the industry. Style's little mechanic world is getting bigger for him, isn't that exciting? Style just wants to share the joy of his good news with Fadel.

Fadel nods a bit unenthusiastically and says "That's good. It's alright. I understand" and I think Style can tell that in reality Fadel is upset just as much as the audience can, even if it might not immediately seem like he can tell:

Style continues to smile, but it's like he's putting down the enthusiasm that he's just put on, and he looks at Fadel. Style is always looking at Fadel. And Style has become an expert at reading Fadel. There is no way Fadel's disappointment passed right by Style, even if his expression stays positive and affectionate and full of love. Style doesn't say anything and I think he's actually waiting to see if Fadel will fall back into his old patterns and usual downward spirals again. And I think Style keeps his expression joyful and warm in order to give Fadel as little reason to think that Style doesn't care about him anymore. But the trauma sits deep within Fadel, leading him to say: "You don't have to come here to teach, you know?"

This is the exact reaction that Style was expecting of Fadel and we can tell, because Style is immediately ready to calm Fadel's anxiety without missing a beat: "Don't worry. I'll make time for it." It's really not that big of a deal. And in case it is a big deal, Style has already thought of a solution, a compromise: "But if I can't, I'll just come visit you instead." Because let's be real, Style would miss Fadel just as much and wouldn't want to miss out on seeing Fadel's face. "Is that okay?" he asks. Do we have a deal? Fadel stares at Style for a second, then nods awkwardly, but looks very unconvinced and doesn't say anything. Style raises his eyebrows a little, then leans back, keeping his eyes fixed on Fadel.

As I said above, I think Style could already tell Fadel was upset a few lines earlier, but I think this is the moment where he realizes that Fadel is more upset than Style had initially thought and that Fadel isn't gonna be easy to cheer up about this. It really does seem to be a big deal to Fadel. So much so, that Style now chooses to address it after all: "What's wrong? Are you mad at me?" And I adore how Style continues to interact with Fadel in such a loving, kind way and continues to smile at him warmly.

Style isn't attacking Fadel when he asks Fadel if he's mad, instead he's reaching out to him kindly and in a way that makes it very clear that Style is asking out of concern for Fadel's well-being and not because he's trying to start an argument. In fact, Style is very much trying to not start an argument right now. Fadel says he isn't mad at Style. "I understand you have to live your life. I'm in here so there's nothing I can do but wait." And that's when Style's smile finally falls completely.

I think part of him is concerned for Fadel and his mental state, and part of him is also worried where this might be going. I think the underlying question here is Are you... about to preemptively push me away again because you're falling into a downward spiral again?

Fadel continues. "Style, I think..." Style's face is very serious now as he listens to Fadel to find out where this is headed. Fadel says "Our timing just wasn't right at all" or word for word:

We met at the wrong place at the wrong time. เราเจอกันผิดที่ผิดเวลาไปหน่อยว่ะ [rao - jer gan - pìt - tîi - pìt - weh-lah - bpai nòi - wâ] we - meet each other - wrong - place - wrong - time - too little - [particle]

Style is quiet for a moment and I think now there is also a hint of fear added to the seriousness in his expression as well as confusion.

I think Style does very much understand that Fadel really is in the process of pushing him away again, but I think he's confused about what exactly Fadel means by "wrong place, wrong time". Style needs to know what exactly Fadel is getting at in order to properly fight against Fadel's downward spiral and so he asks. Fadel explains and Style listens intently. "I think you should focus on your future." Style is wasting many hours just to come to see Fadel at the prison since it's so far away. Style doesn't earn any money working at the prison. Style is better off getting paid fixing some expensive cars. "You shouldn't waste your time on me." Fadel is once again simply just presuming Style's perspective on things without actually asking Style about it. But at least Style now has a lead, something specific he can counter. And Style does, and just like before he talks to Fadel in a very kind, warm way: "It's not a waste of time. You're my boyfriend. I will always make time for you. Work is important, but you're also important to me." Style is also back to a warm, happy face now, the seriousness from a moment ago hidden completely.

He then also speaks a little reminder to Fadel that Fadel's behavior right now isn't entirely fair to Style either: "Before you went to jail, you told me to focus on my own life. Now that I'm doing exactly that, you are sulking?" And again, this isn't supposed to be an attack. When Style says this, he is more serious than he was mere seconds before, but Style's voice is still rather soft, and while his words come with a certain urgency, there are no sharp edges to his tone. Style stays patient with Fadel, clearly trying to talk this issue out without getting into a full-blown argument.

By the way, the word that Style uses here that was translated as "sulk" is งอน [ngon]. Avid watchers of Thai dramas might have come across this word before (especially those who also follow actors outside their series). The dictionary thai2english translates it as "sulk" and "pout", and I knew it meant something like this, but I still went ahead and asked my Thai friend about it, in case he had something interesting to say about it. And he did, and I'd just like to share it here, because I think some of you will love to read about it, too. According to my friend งอน [ngon] is when you are "upset and disappointed, because the other person should know better, but it's not significant enough to be properly angry". My friend also said that it's a whole thing: for example when you are งอน [ngon] you can't actually admit to it, and it's the other person's job to come to you and make up with you (this step is called ง้อ [ngóh]).

So Style asks if Fadel is งอน [ngon] (and I hit pause after Style's sentence to have my friend explain this word, before continuing the scene) and Fadel says that no, he is not งอน [ngon] (after which my friend exclaimed: "See!! Exactly!! He's denying it!! Like I said!!"), then tells Style "Just do what you want. Don't take me into account." Fadel gets up to walk away and Style calls out for him to wait. But Fadel is done with the conversation. "I have work in the kitchen. Don’t want these prisoners to starve." With these words, Fadel leaves Style sitting there, alone, looking unhappy.

No. 8: Be Patient, My Son

Next, we find ourselves in Style's garage and we are shown that Style is indeed working hard, earning money. Even his dad comments on it: "You always only fixed a few cars a month. What's going on?" Style's dad then asks if Style is in need of money and Style says he just wants to save it. And that's when we, the audience, slowly start to realize that Style is likely trying to buy back the restaurant. But Style's dad doesn't know this, so he starts asking whether Style is intending to buy a new car, and when Style says no, he's not, his dad makes a guess for a "love nest" (เรือนหอ [reuuan hŏh]). I didn't ask my friend about the term เรือนหอ [reuuan hŏh], but according to thai2english and sanook.com it refers to a home for newlyweds which, uh, is quite different from "a place (such as an apartment) used for amorous and often illicit rendezvous", which Merriam-Webster defines love nest as. Style's dad asks if Style is getting married, and that's the fifth reference to a FadelStyle marriage. Here's a recap, in case you forgot:

Ep6: "wear make-up with me" vs. "will you marry me" (explanation here)

Ep7: proposal prank

Ep8: Fadel and Style taking part in an actual wedding

Ep11: Style's dad outright telling Fadel and Style to get married

Ep.12: Style's dad asking his son about marriage again

I can't believe this show did not end with them actually getting married, or at the very least engaged. It's gotta be my biggest beef with the show, not gonna lie.

Anyway, so Style informs his dad that he is not, in fact, getting married and goes on to tease his dad, asking if his dad doesn't like seeing his son working hard. The comment makes his dad laugh, although he's already got another question on his mind: "Where's Fadel been, though?" I do think it's kinda funny how this question comes up only after more than three years. Did Style's dad really never wonder about it? Or has Style always casually mentioned Fadel over the years and his dad just assumed that Fadel only happened to come over when Style's dad happened not to be there for it? Why did it take more than three years for this question to come up?

Either way, Style quickly comes up with the excuse that Fadel is in culinary school abroad. And from the way Style says it, it seems like Style is making up this excuse on the spot, which again has me wonder... what exactly has Style been telling his dad the past 3+ years?

Style says that Fadel will be back, which is the truth this time, and Style's dad is happy to hear that, because he's actually rooting for Fadel. We love to hear it. Then Style's dad tells him "You need a lot of trust when it comes to long distance relationships. Be patient, son" and I'm so glad we got this very scene, following the last one. I think this is something Style kinda needed to hear at this point. Because Fadel had just walked out on him, clearly upset, and now Style's relationship is in trouble. And I adore that Style gets told some comforting words, even if his dad actually has no idea what's really going on. "You need trust," his dad tells him, "be patient." And Style thinks about it.

These words hit Style, they mean something to Style. He goes very quiet while his dad continues talking. "You'll be back together soon." Style's dad puts a comforting hand on Style's shoulder and Style's reaction is one I find very difficult to describe and put into words (see gif below). It's like, on the one hand his own optimistic and hopeful nature agrees with his dad, but at the same time he also doesn't quite believe his dad, as if he's thinking Well, whether we'll be back together or not depends entirely on how stubborn Fadel is and if he stops being mad at me. I think part of Style lowkey fears that Fadel might not be willing to make up with him again. Style looks at his dad who then gives him an encouraging nod and Style returns a small smile and a little nod himself.

Style's dad walks away and Style's smile slowly falls as he gets lost in thought and looks down at the money in his hands.

Style is most definitely thinking about the state of his relationship with Fadel and his dad's encouraging words right now. And we, the audience, are now all going Oh, he is SO buying back the restaurant for Fadel!! Honestly, it's my own personal headcanon that Style started working out a plan to buy it the moment he got back from that very first visit where Fadel was like "I'm gonna buy back the restaurant."

No. 9: Making Up

We don't know how long it's been since Fadel and Style talked last, but I assume it's been a while, since last time we checked Style said he might not be able to come as often and now we learn from Bison that Style is at the prison twice a week these days. Personally I assume it's been at least a month if not more. I feel like 3 weeks should be a long enough time for "twice a week" to have become an established pattern that Bison can point out, plus at least one or the other week for Style to work on his projects before that. There's also the chance that it's been even longer than that. Either way, it's been quite a while for sure. After all this time, Fadel is still งอน [ngon] at Style and as my friend explained to me, it's Style's responsibility to make up with him. And so Style does. Surely also boosted by his dad's encouraging words, Style takes the first step towards Fadel by having Bison deliver a small origami bouquet. We know for a fact that Style was not the one who made the bouquet, because Bison does explicitly say the bouquet came "from someone who takes origami training" and I don't think it was a lie, because I think Style would most certainly have bragged about his origami skills if he'd made it himself. However, I do think the little Heart Burger flag is something that Style did make himself. And it's the first hint of confirmation that we get that Style is indeed trying to buy back the restaurant. Fadel doesn't make the connection, though. The little gift still touches him enough to finally seek out Style again instead of actively avoiding him.

Style is wiping the board when Fadel finds him. We don't know if Style is about to start a class and is wiping the board in preparation so that he would have space to write on once the prisoners come in or if he just ended a class and now he's doing some clean-up for next time. My personal headcanon is that we're seeing Style after class actually. It's been established that the prisoners help putting stuff back once class is over and with the way Style is completely by himself when the scene starts it's my headcanon that Style is being slow and hanging back on purpose, because he is desperately hoping Fadel would come to see him, even if Style isn't really expecting it. And the reason why I believe Style thinks Fadel won't show up despite the gift is because Style isn't cheerful the way he usually is when he's purposefully staying optimistic (like he was for example when he's talking to Kant about the cat in front of the abandoned diner in episode 6, or in episode 7 when there is clearly something off about the assassin brothers and Kant points it out and Style insists that Kant is overthinking it or in episode 9 when he makes wishes for his dead body and so on). No, Style looks very serious when the camera first cuts to his face.

He does smile a little once it's fully sunk in that Fadel is really here, standing in front of him, and only then does he put on a bit of a cheerful, teasing voice when he tells Fadel: "Thought you'd never see me again." Didn't I say Style was a little afraid that Fadel might not be willing to make up again? Fadel bluntly asks what Style is here for and Style drops the positive voice. Instead, now his voice sounds more concerned and regretful when he asks "What are you mad (งอน [ngon]) at me about?" As per the etiquette that my friend explained, Fadel immediately denies that he's mad (งอน [ngon]). But then he finally does tell Style what the problem is: "I told you I don't like expectations because I don't want to be disappointed." (Btw, Fadel did indeed say this pretty much word for word when he was crying on those steps in episode 10.) Style then says "But I didn't do anything to disappoint you."

I actually had a question about this line to my friend as well: for the English translation the sentence was phrased in past tense and to me that sounds like Style is talking about something specific maybe back around that time when he failed to show up to teach, an incident clearly set in the past. The thing is, though, that Thai doesn't actually have verb tenses. There are words you can add to a sentence that will clarify whether a statement is about the past or the future, but the verb itself doesn't change and sometimes things can get a little muddy. This is one such case. And I was confused, because especially in retrospective where we know Style is actually in the middle of trying to get back the restaurant (he also states later in the scene that he is in the middle of doing something that he isn't sure is gonna work yet, meaning the restaurant has not yet been acquired at this point) I thought Style's statement could maybe also be taken as What I'm doing and working on right now isn't something that is wronging you. Since Style trying to buy back the restaurant is an on-going project that is happening off-screen at the very same time, it's not a one time thing that happened back when Fadel first got mad at Style. No, it's still happening at this very moment. I discussed this with my friend who thought about it for a moment and then decided that the present perfect tense would probably be the best solution here, since it implies that it's about something that started in the past and is still on-going (or still has an effect) in the present.

So Fadel says he doesn't want to be disappointed and Style tells him "But I haven't done anything to disappoint you." Because what Style has been doing will be the opposite of a disappointment for Fadel. If it works out, that is. Because if it doesn't, if Style fails then it will be a huge disappointment to Fadel. And so Style doesn't want to tell Fadel about it just yet, precisely because he knows Fadel doesn't like disappointments. But Fadel is missing all that context, and so to him the situation reads very differently. And he's hurt. And now he finally opens up to Style about it: "Coming to see me regularly, getting me used to seeing you, making me miss you, and suddenly disappearing… How do you think that made me feel?" Style doesn't reply, he just keeps looking at Fadel with a serious face.

I think he feels bad that Fadel feels like this, but I think he truly doesn't dare to reveal what he's doing. Style knows just how important the burger restaurant was/is for Fadel and how much he loved the place and I think Style assumes it will be an even bigger disappointment and blow to Fadel if Style outright tells him and then fails to deliver. And it's a disappointment that Style really doesn't want to see, because I think it would crush Style himself. I think Style would actually beat himself up about that. And so he keeps his plans to himself, because he's afraid of failure. This specific failure is one he really can't afford. Style stays silent and doesn't answer Fadel's question. Fadel continues to rage: "If you can't do it, don't promise me anything. Do you know how easy it is to overthink when I'm here?" Style still isn't saying anything. Fadel is done. "If you have something important to do, just focus on it. I don't want to slow you down."

Fadel turns to walk off angrily. Style moves at the speed of lightning to hold Fadel back. Fadel finally talked to him and Style is not gonna let him go that easily. They still have something to clear up. Fadel stops and turns back to look at Style again. Before Style even says anything, he pulls away his vest to reveal the heart burger pin that Fadel gave to him. The pin that is very important to Fadel, the pin Fadel is very protective of. In a way, the pin is Fadel's heart which he gave to Style only last episode. And it's right there. Fadel's heart. On Style's heart. In Style's heart. "You're the most important thing to me," is the first thing out of Style's mouth. Style is extremely serious right now. All of Style's decisions, all of Style's actions revolve around Fadel. And he really doesn't want to lose him. And even if he's afraid of failure and disappointing Fadel if he can't pull through with his plan, losing Fadel is worse, and so Style finally opens up at least a little bit: "I'm doing something for both of our futures." Again, Style is extremely serious. He isn't hiding behind a positive attitude, his words aren't performative in the slightest. This is extremely serious and extremely important. I think Fadel does believe him, but wants to confirm that it's true and also doesn't want to be kept in the dark. "What are you doing?" he asks, then throws Style a challenge, almost an attack: "Can you tell me?" You know your behavior is hurting me, will you keep it up for the sake of whatever it is you're apparently doing?

At this point everyone in the audience is screaming HE'S BUYING BACK THE RESTAURANT FOR YOU, YOU DIMWIT!!!!! at Fadel. But Fadel still isn't making the connection, despite the hint with the Heart Burger flag and the Heart Burger pin and Style dropping he's working on their shared future. Can you tell me? But Style can't. He doesn't quite dare. "Can you wait a little longer? I want to be certain about it first. I want to make sure I really can do it." This is a plea. Style is pleading with Fadel. I told you as much as I could and I really am trying my best. For us. Will you please give me the benefit of the doubt and be considerate of my feelings in this situation, too? As I said, I think Fadel did believe Style earlier already, but I think now Fadel really understands that what Style is doing is very important to Style, but that it comes with certain insecurities that Style isn't ready to open up about. Style never pressured Fadel to open up about anything he wasn't ready to open up about and Fadel isn't about to pressure Style either. Style is loud and clear on the fact that he has Fadel in mind and that Fadel is important to him. Fadel doesn't immediately answer and instead contemplates on the situation and Style's plea while Style keeps his eyes fixed on him. Fadel's reaction, Fadel's response really matters to Style right now. Their relationship depends on it. And then Fadel finally yields. Because Style and their relationship is just as important to Fadel. Even if the situation isn't ideal. "You really love surprising me, don’t you?" Fadel finally says. And let me just share the original wording, even if it doesn't make much of a difference:

You always like to surprise me. มึงนี่ชอบเซอร์ไพรส์กูตลอดเลยนะ [mueng - nîi - chôp - sêr-prai - guu - dtà-lòt - loiie - ná] you - [interjection] - like - surprise - me - always - [particle] - [particle]

(Alt. translation: You're always surprising me.)

I like that in Thai Fadel says Style always surprises him, because to me it highlights how for the past 12 episodes we really have watched Style surprise Fadel all the time. Over and over again. In many different ways. God, I love them, I love their story so much. Anyway. Back to the scene. Fadel says this and Style understands that Fadel is no longer outright pushing him away or blocking him anymore. Style replies:

Then come learn how to fix cars with me again. งั้นมาเรียนซ่อมรถกับกูใหม่นะ [ngán - maa - riian - sôm - rót - gàp - guu - mài - ná] then - come - learn - fix, repair - car(s) - with - me - again - [na] Official subs: Come back to class.

The phrasing of the official subs sounded a bit too much like a direct order in their written form, especially without the context of Style's friendly tone, which is why I wanted to share a softer phrasing for the purpose of this meta. Because Style's words aren't an order. They're an invitation. If you've forgiven me, come see me again regularly. They're a peace offering. Fadel stays grumpy and grumbles: "I've been taking the course for years, and I still don't know how to fix anything." It's a stab at Style, but not an aggressive one. And it doesn't have anything to do with their original conflict. Fadel is leaving that conflict behind. Fadel has forgiven Style, even if he doesn't outright say it. Style finally laughs (or rather snorts) for the first time this entire scene and for a moment it looks like he's about to cry from relief that Fadel is no longer angry and that their relationship is saved:

Fadel continues with his grumbly teasing: "All you do is yap." The relationship really is back on. Style teases Fadel right back: "But that's exactly what you love about me, isn't it?" This isn't just Style going along with Fadel's teasing, it's also Style telling Fadel No matter how grumpy you pretend you are, no matter how much you were ignoring me, I know you never stopped loving me, I know you still love me now.

And finally, Fadel breaks. He laughs for a moment. Because he can't deny Style's call-out. Both, that he still loves Style and that he likes that Style is a chatty cat. Fadel pulls up the Heart Burger flag from the origami bouquet. Style laughs in surprise. Why? I don't know. You decide. Maybe he thought Fadel had stomped on it in dramatic anger. Or maybe he's thinking Oh wow, did the bouquet and the flag actually work? Is that what finally made him come see me again? Fadel is still holding up the flag and says that it's cute. And again you can really see the relief in Style's eyes, alongside his joy that things are looking better now with Fadel.

Style asks Fadel to clean the board and Fadel grumbles about it, but does it anyway. Because when does Fadel not give in to Style.

No. 10: Show, Don't Tell

We reach year 5 and finally the brothers are released. We check in with our foursome on the day the brothers get to go home. Bison walks through the door first, runs up to Kant and hugs him. In the meantime, Style is sat on the hood of the car. Fadel doesn't immediately walk up to him, but instead stops behind/next to Kant and Bison who discuss just how much they missed each other. Style doesn't pass up the opportunity to tease Fadel (and I think Style, too, wants a proper greeting, thank you very much):

Hey. This couple said they missed each other. เฮ้ย คู่นี้เขาบอกคิดถึงกันด้วยนะ [hóiie • kûu níi - kăo - bòhk - kít-tĕung - gan - dûuay - ná] hey • this couple - tell - miss - each other - too - [particle] Official subs: Hear that? He said he missed him and all that. So how about you, did you miss me? แล้วมึงอ่ะ คิดถึงกูป่ะ [láew - mueng - àh • kít-tĕung - guu - bpà] and - you - [particle] • miss - me - ? Official subs: Did you miss me at all?

(Sharing this mostly because I feel like it and I know a lot of you love the language bits, not because the literal wording makes any difference in this case lol)

Fadel announces "I'm not saying it", but the reality of the matter is that Style's wish is Fadel's command. And so Fadel walks up to Style and plants a kiss on his lips. "I'm showing it."

But before they break apart, Style pats Fadel like easy tiger, we have company. I do think this is about Kant and Bison's live slug reaction and not because Style doesn't want to be kissing Fadel right now. I think Style is trying to be considerate of the other two. After the kiss, Style gets up, hugs Fadel and over his shoulder nods at Kant and Bison and boastfully points at Fadel like Did you guys see that?? That's my man!! It's the exact same energy as he had at the end of episode 9 when he was raising his eyebrows at Kant and Bison in the boat. It's the You guys don't have a Fadew like me energy. (I'm out of images for this post, but here's a parallel gifset.) I love just how proud Style always is of Fadel, and how happily he'll show him off.

While Fadel and Style are busy hugging, Kant and Bison discuss where they should go to now. Style jumps in to ask "Hey, can you guys drop me off near my place first?" and Fadel gets confused: "What do you mean, 'your place'? The garage?" Fadel's confusion might be a little weird, because why exactly would Fadel be so confused about "my place"? That seems pretty self-explanatory in English, no? Well, let me explain. Because there's something really interesting going on here in Thai...

Now, I didn't go back and rewatch the entire show to check (if I did, it would be March until I finally drop this meta lol), but as far as I remember they usually refer to Style's place as "the garage", or อู่ [ùu] in Thai. But here for this line, when Style say "my place", he does not use the word อู่ [ùu] (= garage). Instead, he asks to be dropped off at his ร้าน [ráan]. Now what does that mean? This word means "store" or "shop" and like in English it can be paired with other words to specify just what kind of shop it is, for example:

ร้านหนังสือ [ráan năng-sĕu]: ráan (store) + năng-sĕu (book) = book store

ร้านดอกไม้ [ráan dòhk mái]: ráan (store) + dòhk mái (flower) = flower shop

You may have noticed that I said Style says just ร้าน [ráan], without specifying what kind of shop it is. Because just like in English, you can drop the specification and refer to it as just "the shop" (or ร้าน [ráan] in this case).

Now here comes the interesting bit: this word is also used when referring to food related places such as...

restaurant = ร้านอาหาร [ráan aa-hăan] -> ráan (shop) + aa-hăan (food)

coffee shop = ร้านกาแฟ [ráan gaa-fae] -> ráan (shop) + gaa-fae (coffee)

Or, you know, it's also in... ร้านเบอร์เกอร์ [ráan ber-gêr]. Now, เบอร์เกอร์ is "burger", but written in Thai letters. I don't have to tell you what ráan burger translates to, do I?

Oh, and at his point I should probably also mention that while the characters usually refer to Style's place as อู่ [ùu] (garage), when they talk about Fadel's place (the diner) they usually call it ร้าน [ráan] (shop, restaurant).

So yeah. The moment Style dropped that he wanted to be taken to his ร้าน [ráan] instead of his อู่ [ùu] (= garage) was the moment I started screaming, because that's when I knew for sure Style had bought back the restaurant and more importantly, that he had succeeded in doing so (yes, I did scream as if I didn't already know they were gonna be back at the restaurant through the clips shown in the MVs and from pics the boys posted during the shoot where they posed in front of the burger shop sign and their clothes matched the ones from the clips lol).

As I already mentioned, Style refers to it as just ร้าน [ráan] without specifying what kind of ร้าน [ráan] it is and it's vague enough that Fadel doesn't catch on the surprise, but it's just weird enough for Fadel to get confused: "What do you mean, 'ร้าน [ráan]'? The garage (อู่ [ùu])?" Yeah, Fadel's confusion here is about Style's unexpected word choice, because usually Style doesn't refer to his garage as ร้าน [ráan] (= shop, store). This is how they used to refer to the diner before Fadel had to go to prison. Style tells him he'll know soon and urges him to get into the car. They all do and Kant drives off.

No. 11: Surprise Surprise

The surprise works. Fadel didn't see it coming. "You said it was sold to someone." Style nods, making a m-hm sound, an adoring smile on his face that just oozes love and care. I really wish I could add a gif or a screenshot of his face, but unfortunately there's an image limit. I mean, you've seen the episode. You know how head over heels in love Style looks throughout this entire scene.

Style explains he bought it back for Fadel who then says Style didn't have to do that. Style says "I worked my ass off to buy this place back for you." I'm not entirely happy with the phrasing in the official subs, because to me there is also a negative connotation hidden in the phrase "work one's ass off", in the sense of "I worked my ass off for [xyz] and you don't appreciate it". But that might just be my ESL brain, maybe the media I've consumed mostly used this phrase in a more negative context and now my brain associates it with that.

In Thai Style uses the expression ตั้งใจทำงาน [dtâng jai tam ngaan] which does translate to "to work hard", but this expression contains the word ตั้งใจ [dtâng jai] which means "to intend to" or "to mean". I think it highlights with how much intention Style did this for Fadel. Style really meant to do this, like he's meant a lot of other things he's said or done over the last few episodes.

And Style putting in so much work also really shows how much he's grown. Because in the first half of the show I kept wondering why he had so much time to run after Fadel. We were told Style works as a mechanic, but we rarely saw him do any actual work. Instead, Style was able to follow Fadel's routine at the market or at the sports field or was even able to randomly help Fadel work at the restaurant without any scheduling problems and I kept thinking... what about his job at the garage? Is he never working? How does he have so much time to bother Fadel? And earlier in episode 12 Style's dad actually confirms just that: "You always only fixed a few cars a month." So Style, indeed, had the time to keep bugging Fadel. And back then it seemed like he didn't really have anything to do, didn't really have a goal or any direction in life. But then Kant sets Style on Fadel. And suddenly Style has a mission. And then Style falls in love. And now he suddenly has goals to work towards. We saw it last episode already, when Style suddenly started to make plans (first, his elaborate plan on getting Fadel and Bison on the run and second, during his last supper with Fadel when Style suggests making a plan for their life and their relationship while Fadel was imprisoned), and now it's not just that Style has started planning, but he makes plans with a very specific goal in mind and puts all his efforts in to reach this goal. He's no longer running around doing whatever. Style has really matured in this regard, Fadel's influence has changed him and has made him grow.

When Style says how determined he was to work hard to earn money to buy back the restaurant, his voice is somehow both soft and firm at the same time. His voice is so soft and filled with so much love, but there is some urgency to it, because Style needs Fadel to know this and he needs Fadel to know that he wanted to do this for him. Style knows he didn't have to, but Style wanted to. And it's important to him that Fadel really understands this. Because over the years Fadel has so often blocked or disregarded or struggled to accept all the nice things that Style has done for him. And Style doesn't want his act of love to be devalued again, especially not when he has spent so much time, effort, and energy on it purely out of love. A love that is worth it.

It's finally hitting Fadel what Style was so busy with when Fadel was sulking at him. Style confirms with another "mh". God, Style's heart eyes are really off the charts in this scene. "I wasn't sure I could do it so I didn't tell you," Style explains. And then he tells Fadel how he managed to keep up the energy in order to succeed despite his uncertainty: "But the image of you being back in this restaurant gave me this great strength to fix at least a hundred cars." Style smiles a bright, adoring smile. He's so in love. Fadel takes Styles hand and thanks him: "Thank you for doing this for me and for waiting for me." When Style responds, he actually phrases his sentence in a less direct and more general way in Thai than he does in the official subs:

Well, when you love someone, you gotta be able to wait. ก็คนมันรักอ่ะก็ต้องรอได้ดิ [gôh - kon - man - rák - àh - gôh - dtông - raw - dâai - dì] well - person, people - they, he, she, it - love - [particle] - [sentence link] - have to - wait - be able to - [particle] Official subs: Well, I love you. Of course I can wait.

This is an interesting difference between the Thai wording and the English subs, because once Fadel and Style start dating, Style actually rarely ever outright says the words "I love you" (and neither does Fadel, by the way). The only time Style properly says it is when Fadel has him at gun point in episode 7:

But now that I know the real you, I love you for real, Fadel. แต่พอกูรู้ตัวจริงของมึงแล้วอ่ะ กูรักมึงจริงๆนะฟาเดล [dtàe - poh - guu - rúu - dtuua jing kŏng meung - láew - àh • guu - rák - mueng - jing jing - ná - Fadel] but - when - I - know - real you - already - [particle] • I - love - you - really, for real - [na] - Fadel Official subs: Now that I know you, I really love you, Fadel.

And then arguably he says it again in episode 10 when he comforts Fadel on the stairs, although it's up to debate if that really counts as a direct "I love you":

But that I'm still staying / But that I still stayed แต่ที่กูยังอยู่ [dtàe - tîi - guu - yang - yùu] but - that - I - still - stay Official subs: But I stay with you is because I love that you're you / is because I love you for being you เพราะกูรักที่เป็นมึง [próh - guu - rák - tîi - bpen - mueng] because - I - love - that - be - you Official subs: because I love who you are.

Any other time Style talks about "love", he never addresses Fadel directly but phrases it in a more general way, using the word คน [kon] which means "person" or "people" instead of a pronoun. Style does this in episode 10 just a little while after the above line:

The more I know how much you care about me, ยิ่งกูรู้ว่ามึงแค่ร์กูขนาดเนี่ย [yîng - guu - rúu - wâa - mueng - kâe - guu - kà-nàat nîia] the more - I - know - that - you - care (about) - me - like this, this much Official subs: Knowing how much you care about me the more I know that I don't love the wrong person. มันยิ่งทำให้รู้นะว่ากูอ่ะ รักคนไม่ผิด [man - yîng - tam hâi - rúu - ná - wâa - guu - àh • rák - kon - mâi - pìt] it - the more - make that, cause - know - [particle] - that - I - [particle] • love - person - not - wrong Official subs: makes me certain that I didn't choose the wrong man.

And he also does it in episode 9 when Fadel opens up about his ex for the first time on the island:

A person who risks their own life for someone they don't even know. คนที่เอาชีวิตตัวเองไปเสี่ยงเพื่อคนที่ไม่รู้จักด้วยซ้ำ​ [kon - tîi - ao - chee-wít dtuua eng - bpai - sìiang - pêuua - kon - tîi - mâi - rúu-jàk - dûuay sám] person - that - take - one's own life - go - risk - for - person - that - not - know - even Official subs: You risked your life for a total stranger. I love the right person. กูรักถูกคนแล้วละ [guu - rák - tùuk - kon - láew - lá] I - love - right - person - already - [particle] Official subs: I know I'm in love with the right man.

And Style does it again now in episode 12, standing in front of the restaurant with Fadel. And let me just repeat the line with an even more literal translation this time (this sentence really doesn't work well in a literal translation in English, especially because English also comes with plural forms rip):

Well, people who love, they gotta be able to wait. / Well, a person who loves, has to be able to wait. ก็คนมันรักอ่ะก็ต้องรอได้ดิ [gôh - kon - man - rák - àh - gôh - dtông - raw - dâai - dì] well - person, people - they, he, she, it - love - [particle] - [sentence link] - have to - wait - be able to - [particle] Official subs: Well, I love you. Of course I can wait.

This time Style actually switches it around, because previously คน [kon] implicitly referred to Fadel, while this time คน [kon] actually refers to Style himself. And for some reason the official translator went for a direct "I love you" when Style neither says "I", nor says "you". In the entire series, Fadel and Style rarely say the words "I love you" word for word to each other. It's very clear that they do love each other, but they never outright say it. Instead they say things like "I'm worried about you" or "So what if we're old? I'll still wanna be with you" or "I don't feel so sad anymore. I'm happier." And they don't really need to tell each other I love you anyway, because their actions speak for themselves. It's like Fadel said the moment he got out of prison: "I'm not saying it. I'm showing it." And yes, this line was about missing Style, but really, this sentiment also goes for their love, for both Fadel as well as Style. So Style doesn't directly say he loves Fadel, instead Style just implies it and it's only in the next line where he doesn't mention the word "love" that he directly addresses Fadel:

Whether it's 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, I can always wait for you. จะ 5 ปี 10 ปี 20 ปี รอมึงได้เสมอแหละ [jà - hâa - bpii - sìp - bpii - yîi-sìp - bpii - raw - mueng - dâai - sà-mĕr -làe] will - 5 - years - 10 - years - 20 - years - wait (for) - you - be able to - always - [particle] Official subs: Whether it’s five, ten, or twenty years, I'll wait for you.

And this is the point where I get jumpscared by Dunk's voice suddenly blasting through my speakers. I wish the editors had made the music just a little more quiet. It gets me every single time, because every single time I watch this scene I get so immersed that I completely forget about the jumpscare. Fadel and Style lovingly stare at each other while I scramble to save the health of my eardrums. Then Fadel says he'll work hard to pay Style back, but Style doesn't want that. Technically Style is the current owner, and if Fadel were to pay him back then it would be like Fadel was buying the restaurant from Style. But that's not how Style wants to see it. Because this isn't Style's restaurant that Fadel has to buy from him. No, it's their restaurant. It's already their restaurant. Because obviously if Style owns it, then Fadel owns it, too. It's both a gift to Fadel and something that Style bought for them to share. Because "I'm here to support you in all your dreams." Because no one means well for Fadel more than Style does.

Fadel says "I sure am a lucky guy. I've been doing bad things my entire life, but I have the best boyfriend in the world." Style throws his head to the side, smiling, half in an Oh, you sweet-talker way and half in a No need to mention it, kinda way. Then he says "It's all thanks to Kant for daring me to take you out." And this is actually a reference to the title. The Thai name of the series goes:

He hired me to flirt with a hitman เขาจ้างให้ผมจีบนักฆ่า [kăo - jâang - hâi - pŏm - jìip - nák-kâa] he - hire - that - I - hit on, flirt, woo - assassin

And this is what Style says:

[...] for hiring me flirt with you. [...] ที่จ้างกูมาจีบมึง [tîi - jâang - guu - maa - jìip - mueng] that - hire - I - come - hit on, flirt, woo - you

Style laughs and Fadel smiles, too, and then Style pulls the Heart Burger pin out of his pocket. Without a word, he carefully pins it onto Fadel's shirt while Fadel makes heart-eyes at him. It's a parallel to Fadel putting the pin on Style last episode. The ring pin exchange is complete. Style says "From now on, everything is yours." They're all but married. Style still has his hand on Fadel's chest by the pin. Fadel goes to grab it. They smile at each other. Then they turn and together they enter the restaurant, their restaurant, their shared future, hand in hand.

No. 12: Dinner With Mom

At night, when Fadel and Style are done at the ร้าน [ráan] (restaurant) they do go to Style's อู่ [ùu] (garage). And I love how Style immediately calls out that Fadel is here. Style is so excited to tell his dad the joyful news. But but before he has the chance to share his good news, he gets surprised with bad news instead. A dinner invitation.

Our foursome once again gets together to fight evil. And of course, the evil dinner invitation calls for an urgent outfit change for all four of them. They're greeted by two men holding out guns, and Style is a bit startled for a moment, but otherwise keeps calm. The men demand Fadel's and Bison's guns and the brothers hand them over. The men then walk into the dining room and the the four of them look at each other before following the men inside where Lilly is waiting for them together with Babe and Style's dad tied up on their chairs. Kant and Style immediately call out to their loved ones. In general, I just love how worried about his dad Style is throughout the entire scene and how he keeps checking and communicating with him. I actually made a whole separate post about this with lots of gifs where I really go into detail about it, because the relationship between Style and his dad really needs to be appreciated in all its glory in gifs and tumblr simply just has an image limit of 30 gifs per (desktop) post. I can't afford to spend like 20 of them on Style and his dad alone. It was already tricky enough to limit everything I wanted to showcase for this episode to only 30 images in the first place. Anyway. Back to the scene.

Once again Style finds himself in danger, and once again he mainly stays out of the conflict between the brothers and their mother. We also aren't shown Style's face that much, so we can only make guesses as to how he feels listening to Lilly monologuing on and on and Bison raging at her. Style probably feels worried, especially for his dad. We know this, because in the beginning of the scene, before everyone sat down at the table, Style was very fixated on his dad and you could tell that he wanted nothing more than to run over to him and check if his dad was unharmed. When everyone is sitting at the table, sometimes the camera cuts into a wideshot and while we only see the back of Style's head, we can tell that he's looking at Lilly, so I assume he's paying close attention to her words and actions.

At some point, Kant chimes in: "It was me who exposed you. I masterminded the whole thing. If you want to kill someone, kill me. Just let my brother go." Style immediately jumps on board: "Kant was right. Let my Dad go. He doesn't know anything. I don't care what you do to me." We already learned in episode 9 that Style is very much willing to give his own life for the people he loves and so it doesn't come as a surprise at all that he's willing to offer himself up for his dad. However, in comparison to episode 9 there now is a hint of uncertainty to Style's voice, because he really doesn't know Lilly and so he can't predict her actions and reactions unlike he could with Fadel in episode 9. Lilly laughs a mocking laugh while Style and his dad exchange glances. And I love that they exchange glances here, because, to quote from my other post:

i love that style is communicating with his dad again at this very point, because style offering himself up will also affect his dad. his dad might be physically fine if style trades his dad for himself, but emotionally the dad will be ruined if lilly takes his son's life, especially when he's already had to deal with the loss of his wife years ago. style being willing to sacrifice himself isn't nothing, in fact, it's a very big deal and so the two of them communicate about it

Lilly continues to monologue and announces she has some poisonous drinks prepared for the occasion. Style turns to his dad and says "Dad. I'm sorry." His dad had absolutely nothing to do with this, his dad is totally innocent and Style hates that his dad was pulled into this and that his dad's life is now in danger.

We then don't see any shot of Style at all while Fadel and Bison plead with their mother and offer to continue working for her. We don't get to see Style immediate reaction to Lilly's announcement that she'll let her sons and their boyfriends go if her sons give their brother-in-law and their father-in-law the poisoned drink. There is a long pause and it's only right before Lilly asks "Can you do that?" that the camera goes back to Style and we see there is shock and concern. Shit's getting real.

Fadel and Bison say yes, they can. Style is most definitely very worried right now, but to be honest, I don't feel like he's all that terrified, I think that's more of a secondary feeling. He watches closely as Fadel lifts the glass towards his dad lips, and Style is clearly anxious and agitated and maybe a little afraid, but he doesn't say a single word to stop Fadel and I think deep down he does trust Fadel not to kill his dad, trusts Fadel to find a way out with dad unscathed. After all they've been through, I think Style trusts Fadel not to cause him such great pain. Although I do think Style is ready to swap the glass out of Fadel's hand at any given moment. But Fadel pulls through. From one moment to the next Fadel throws the wine into his mother's minion's face, attacks him, and Bison follows his lead. Style and Kant jump up to free their family.

Fadel and Bison kill the henchmen without remorse and end up with Lilly at gunpoint. Kant calls out for Bison not to kill her and Style offers to call the cops. Now that the immediate danger is over, we get to see a little bit of that Style again who tries to mediate and solve conflicts with as few people coming to harm as possible. But Fadel orders him not to get the police involved, so Style drops his phone, still concerned and not entirely happy, but without further protest. Style, Kant, and their family watch the brothers poison Lilly without interrupting them.

And I kinda love we do get to see Style witness Fadel actually murdering someone, because in my ep5 meta I wrote this:

"I promise that no matter who you are, I'll still like you." And there it is. Style's decision. [...] Fadel doesn't believe [Style's] promise, though. "Words are cheap. I'll do that when you're ready. You can judge, then." Again, I think Fadel has a point. [...] Because yes, Style may say he'll like Fadel no matter his occupation, but Style still hasn't seen the killer in action. Fadel's words mean Decide whether you still like me or not only when you find out my real occupation before you promise anything as much as they mean Decide whether you still like me or not once you've actually seen me murder someone in front of you before you promise anything. Style has already made a decision about the former, but he is yet to make a decision about the latter.

And so I love that Style is now able to make the choice of loving Fadel having seen Fadel truly at his worst, having seen him murder someone in cold blood.

I know for this meta I focus purely on character analysis, and I don't really criticize (whether it's acting performances or script writing or directing or whatnot), but I do wish the series would have spent a little more time on this, on Style seeing Fadel kill. Because Style is clearly affected by what he is witnessing.

Something truly horrible is happening right in front of his eyes. And it's a shame that Style finally seeing the killer in action gets kind of just glossed over in the very next moment when "I'm a killer, I'm a bad person, you should be wary of me" "I love you anyway" has been such a big theme for these two. It's kinda weird that we go from Style looking this horrified to Style being happy and content in bed, as if nothing had happened. That kill doesn't even get mentioned again. I feel like you could jump from the scene in front of the diner straight to Fadel and Style in bed and not notice that any major traumatizing event has occurred in between. Ah well. Let's move on.

No. 13: 100%

We come back to Fadel and Style sitting in Style's bed at night. Fadel is wondering if he should change the restaurant's name and Style thinks it's fine as it is. But Fadel says he wants Style to be a part of it, too, so Style suggests "Just add an S and a heart" and I'm just thinking... So, Heart Burgers? Or Hearts Burger, since he talks about an additional heart? Or maybe the S in an entirely different position? Whatever name Style is thinking of, according to him with an added S and another heart it'll be a better version than Fadel's version, because:

Because you have another heart right here. เพราะมีหัวใจอีกดวงเพิ่มขึ้นมาอยู่ตรงนี้ไง [próh - mii - hŭua-jai - ìik - duuang - pêrm kêun - maa - yùu - dtrong níi - ngai] because - have - heart - another - [classifier] - increased - come - be - here - [particle] Official subs: With another heart, that is.

Fadel likes Style's idea. And before I move on, I just want to go into more depth about this little sequence for a moment: after Fadel explains that he's thinking of changing the name because he wants Style to be part of it, too, Style looks like he thinks about something for a moment before he says "I don't think it needs much change." Of course, in this moment he is thinking about what exactly could be changed if Fadel really does want to change something, but the thing is, Style already likes the restaurant the way it is. He doesn't necessarily need the restaurant to change if Fadel is changing it just because he thinks Style would want him to change it. It really reminds me of episode 6 and the theme of "Be who you want to be, not who someone else wants you to be". If the restaurant represents Fadel's life, Style already likes Fadel the way he is. But if Fadel does want to change, there is something important to do: he needs to add a S(tyle) to his life. And another heart (Style's heart). With that, it will make a much better version of Fadel's life than it was before. And Fadel actually agrees.

I can't help but think back to the last time they were in Style's bed at night, all the way back in episode 5. Back then, Fadel really struggled with sharing his life with Style and letting him come close. Now Fadel actively wants Style to be part of his life. Now that he's done being a hitman, the restaurant can finally be Fadel's life, but it's not his restaurant alone, it's theirs. Getting to be part of Fadel's life is something Style has desired for a long time now and has even fought and argued with Fadel over on multiple occasions, and now Style is finally granted his wish. Fadel is finally letting Style in. When Fadel agrees that a better version would be one with an added S(tyle), Style looks at Fadel for a moment and thinks about something again.

Style knows Fadel loves him. And that actually reminds him... Style turns to grab something off the shelf next to him and proudly presents it to Fadel. The key to Kant's car. It's finally Style's. And I know from a story crafting perspective it makes sense for Style to receive the car only at the very end, but it's still really funny to me that Style was given the car only now, when Fadel has without a doubt been head over heels in love with Style for the past five years already. Because Fadel was without a doubt already head over heels in love with Style before he went to prison. But however long it took, what really matters is that Style did get the car, because a deal is a deal. And Style did indeed succeed. "If I could make you fall crazy in love with me, I'd get his car." When Style says that, his voice is full of affection and there's also a bit of teasing. I know you're head over heels in love with me. But Fadel tells Style to give the key back to Kant:

Because I don't love you that much. เพราะกูไม่ได้รักมึงขนาดนั้น [próh - guu - mâi dâai - rák - mueng - kà-nàat nán] because - I - not - love - you - to that extent Official subs: I’m not in love with you like that.

Style wordlessly stares at Fadel for a second while he's processing those words, blinks, then lowers his head. Really now?

Fadel looks at him, a grin most definitely hidden in his eyes, then huffs and pointedly ignores Style. It's a challenge. Style puts down the car key. Challenge accepted. Because Style is not one to back down from a challenge. This personality trait has stayed consistent until the end of the series. Style turns to loom over Fadel. "Are you sure that you're not head over heels in love with me?" Because Style knows with unwavering certainty that Fadel is. He just needs Fadel to admit to it. I've already talked about how Fadel and Style hardly say "I love you" to each other. Style, the person who loves so fiercely and so passionately and so loudly, already rarely says it himself and Fadel says it even less. In fact, ever since they've started dating the only other time Fadel has said he loves Style since that one time Fadel directly said it the night he found out about the betrayal in episode 6 was in the kitchen in episode 11 when he said he wants to "do what I love with who I love" and even then he actually doesn't literally say the words I love you, but rather just implies it. If anything, Fadel likes to claim he isn't actually in love with Style. And so I think Style wants to hear Fadel say differently out loud for once, even if Fadel's actions speak louder than his words anyway.

But Fadel continues to ignore him. I think Fadel is waiting to see what Style will do in order to draw the words out of Fadel's mouth that Style so desperately wants to hear. It's like he's testing Style's persistence. Style kisses Fadel's cheeks and asks "How much do you love me?" But Fadel isn't giving in to Style that easily and that quickly. "Only 30%." He knows Style is chasing those 100%. Style ups the ante and kisses Fadel's neck. This is a game now. "How much do you love me?" Fadel says "60% now" and looks up at Style, waiting to see what Style's next move is going to be. This time, Style goes for the mouth, goes for a full make-out session even. Then Style asks again: "How much do you love me?" He grins at Fadel expectantly and he's definitely also a little bit satisfied and proud. Fadel doesn't reply immediately, just puts his hand on Style's face and looks at him for a moment. And then Fadel finally gives in and says "100%".

Again, this meta isn't supposed to be a review or a criticism piece on the story, but I do think it's a bit of a shame that the conversations about percentages wasn't about trust. Because I feel like the main question with them over the series wasn't really Does Fadel love Style? but rather Does Fadel trust Style? And trust was also the big theme of episode 5, the episode that Fadel and Style's game in episode 12 is a callback to: "A guy like me doesn't go trusting someone 100%." And a little later in episode 5, when they're in Style's bed, Style more or less opens the conversation with "Sometimes you make me feel so scared, and sometimes you make me feel so safe," which again is about trust, not love. This theme continues also in episode 8, when Fadel handcuffs Style to the bed, because "I don't trust you", not because he doesn't love Style. Episode 8 is all about Style trying to gain Fadel's trust again, not his love: "What do I have to do for you to trust me?" The episode 12 dialogue does work in a way, because Fadel did say he didn't love Style or didn't like him all that much multiple times over the course of the series, and he even makes a comment like that in this very scene that we're currently discussing. But the thing is, Style never actually believes Fadel whenever Fadel claims he doesn't love Style (that much) and Style even calls him out on his "I don't love you" claim in episode 8: "You might be good at cooking and shooting, but you're not very good at lying at all." Style never doubted that Fadel loved him, but trust has been a very big issue. In fact, trust also played a role only this very episode when Fadel was sulking at Style when Style couldn't come in to teach in prison. Because in episode 10 Fadel had told Style "I don't want to have any expectations just to be disappointed" and Fadel had trusted Style not to disappoint him, except then Style seemingly does disappoint him and that hurts Fadel ("I told you I don't like expectations because I don't want to be disappointed." [...] "Coming to see me regularly, getting me used to seeing you, making me miss you, and suddenly disappearing… How do you think that made me feel?"). It makes Fadel feel like he can't trust Style, not that he can't love Style. And the question in that scene is whether Fadel can trust Style to really be working on something for their future that Style can't share yet, it's not whether Style loves him. So yeah. I feel like the dialogue about the percentages would have been a much cleaner parallel/callback if it had been about Fadel trusting Style, not about Fadel loving Style. Because we all, including Style, know that Fadel has always loved Style. He just didn't always trust him. But now he does. 100%. Style once decided "One day, I'll be your 100%" and now he is. They celebrate that by making out some more.

When they part again, Style tells Fadel "You know what? Having you is worth more than winning that car" and I'm filled with satisfaction upon hearing that, because I said more or less exactly the same thing three episodes ago in my ep9 meta:

[I]t's actually kinda funny, because Style agreed to make Fadel his boyfriend, but it's been how many episodes since they've started dating?? And we have yet to see Style with said car. [...] [A]s of episode 6 it was Kant who was still in possession of the car, despite Style and Fadel being head over heels in love by that point [...]. Style may have gone into it for the car, but he never actually took the car and by now the car is long forgotten. I didn't go and check, but as far as I remember Style hasn't even brought the car up to Kant ever since that scene in episode 4 where he initially came to claim it. At this point, Style would much rather have Fadel than the car anyway.

(Bolded for emphasis)

Now please forgive me if I skip the rest of the love scene, but I do want to get this post done before the end of the month, if possible. I think the main take-away is that now they both very much want each other and are very much into it, with nothing holding either one of them back.

No. 14: Driving Into the Sunset

Of course their last scene would be of them driving into the (metaphorical) sunset together in Kant's car that Style has finally won. Fadel and Style check in with Kant and Bison in Iceland. After the call, Fadel asks if Style would also like to go on a trip. Obviously Style wants to. "I usually travel with my Dad. Never done it with my boyfriend before," Style says, at which point, upon me showing my language buddy and Thai language consultant this scene, he goes "...the kidnapping, though?" and I break into laughter, because my friend is right. Yeah, Style, what do you mean you've never gone on a trip with your boyfriend? *gestures at episodes 8 and 9* Right, wots all this then?

I mean, technically you could argue that during that time Fadel wasn't actually Style's boyfriend, but let's be real, Style never got that memo. Or rather he went I recognize that the Council has made a decision. But given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.

Anyway, whether it'll be their first trip, their second trip, or their hundredth trip, I don't think Style will ever say no to traveling with Fadel. Fadel suggests planning a trip later and then, at the mention of Style's dad, asks how Style's dad is taking the news of Fadel being an ex-assassin and ex-prisoner. I do think Style's dad is genuinely chill with it, but once again I wish the series would have dwelled just a little bit more on the aftermath of the Lilly incident and on how it affected everyone involved. Because it was quite a traumatic and brutal incident, and it's a bit jarring how everyone is all sunshine and rainbows from one second to the next. But for the sake of this meta and the next line, I'll just assume that everyone, including Style's dad, worked through it all off-screen. Style says that his dad is totally okay with it, because "He said I need someone with a past like yours to tie me down." The Thai wording is slightly different, actually:

My dad said someone like me needs to meet someone with a history like yours. พ่อกูอ่ะ บอกว่าคนอย่างกูต้องเจอคนมีประวัติแบบมึง [pôh guu - àh • bòhk - wâa - kon - yàang - guu - dtông - jer - kon - mii - bprà-wàt - bàep - meung] my dad - [particle] • say - that - person - like - me - have to, need to - meet - person - have - history - like - you

I like that in the original phrasing it doesn't state the "to tie me down" part. The Thai line leaves it up to the viewer's interpretation as to why exactly Style would need someone with a past like Fadel's. Personally, I took it in a "Style needs someone fucked up enough to be able to stand and handle and appreciate all of Style's unhingedness". And I don't necessarily think that Fadel would actively try to tie Style down, since Style's shameless loudness and Style's ability to unabashedly be himself and say things without a filter is exactly what Fadel loves him for. I think Fadel tying Style down ("taming" him *wink wink*) happens more as a byproduct of both of them influencing each other and changing into better versions of themselves when they're together.

The words of Style's dad make Fadel laugh. Then he says: "You know, I still remember what I promised your dad before I went to jail." Style looks over to him and asks "What did you promise?" Style smiles and I see both joy as well as curiosity on his face.

I think Style knows exactly what promise Fadel is referring to, but he's dying to hear the words out loud out from Fadel's mouth. His expression is also very expectant, almost challenging when he's done speaking. The little head tilt afterwards is almost like he's saying Pray do tell. Fadel replies: "I told him I'd go talk to him after five years." As I said, I think Style knew what the promise was, but I think actually hearing Fadel say it still gives him a thrill and causes butterflies in his tummy. He looks over to Fadel in pure delight.

And I love, love, LOVE that Fadel was the one to bring it up first. Because at some point after episode 8, when there were so many references to a FadelStyle marriage and I seriously started thinking about the possibility of a canon FadelStyle wedding or at least a wedding proposal (lmao joke's on me rip), I was contemplating about who of the two would propose first and who I'd prefer to do so. And I thought Style proposing would fit with his personality, especially since he himself said "I could spring a ring on you one day and just ask you to marry me." It seemed fit that the series would end with Style doing exactly just that. But then I contemplated some more and thought, actually, I would love it if Fadel was the one to propose. Because in the series it's always Style who is chasing Fadel, it's always Style proving over and over again that he really wants Fadel in his life while Fadel spends the majority of the series pushing Style away (and Fadel does it again even in the finale when he's mad at Style during year 4!). And I thought that it would probably mean the world to Style if Fadel proposed. Because it would showcase that Fadel wants Style in his life just as much as Style wants Fadel in his life. It would show Style that the feeling is mutual, that Fadel wants it for himself, too. That a marriage isn't something Fadel agreed to just because Style asked for it or talked him into it or anything like that. Fadel proposing would show Style that Fadel is choosing Style out of his own free will the way Style has been choosing Fadel over and over again. I'm once again reminded of @braceletofteeth's tags on this post:

#Style wants Fadel to claim him as his so bad it makes him look stupid #just like he takes pride in choosing his own man #he would be proud to be chosen as Fadel's man #delighted‚ if Fadel let others (and Style) know he's the one who earned the space reserved for his special someone #in his heavily secured heart #if he was so special to Fadel that he wouldn't want him to be taken away #or to share him with anyone else

Fadel asking for Style's hand in marriage, Fadel marrying Style would be Fadel claiming Style, it would be Fadel making an announcement to the world that Style is his and his alone. It would be Fadel choosing Style and Style would even have a ring to prove it. To prove that he is Fadel's. To prove that Fadel is his. I just thought Fadel being the one to propose would mean the world to Style. And judging by the joy in Style's face in the above gif, it absolutely does mean the world to him. That Fadel is the one to bring up the prospect of marriage.

Style asks if Fadel is serious and Fadel says yes, he is, but that he wants to have the chat only once the restaurant is up and running again (at least that's how I interpreted this statement). Style says "No need to hurry." He most definitely wants to marry Fadel one day, but I think he's got a point with this. After all, it's only now that they can finally start dating "properly", can finally experience the couple life with both of them out of prison, all cards out in the open, both parties trusting and loving each other mutually, and most importantly, without fearing for their lives. "No need to push yourself. After everything that we've been through, still staying together is already beyond anything we expected." Their relationship really is chill the way it is, there is no need to rush anything. They can get married when they both feel the time is right for it. I think that's what Style is getting at here. Fadel agrees. Then he says "I thought I'd die alone." Style knows that well. They discussed this last episode by the gravestone. And back then, Style had already announced that he wouldn't let Fadel get lonely in death. Now he says: "We'll die one day, but we'll die together of old age." They're gonna have that old man yaoi future together.

Fadel laughs, claims Style is cheesy, but still plants a big kiss on Style's lips. Uhhhh, Fadel, so what about the lecture you gave Style about safe driving the first time you guys met? All of that goes right out of the window as Style and Fadel continue to plant kisses on each other. How's that for character growth?

And off they drive into the night. Style's got both the car of his dreams as well as the man of his dreams. What more could Style want?

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11)

[mzminola]

Ned was doomed before the beginning of the story; the direwolf has already choked on the stag antler in time to be found as an omen, Robert & Ned's fates are intertwined, Jon Arryn died from what he swallowed and Robert chose Ned to be Hand of the King, there is no way turning down a royal offer like that works out safely, and no way accepting it works out safely either. Ned was doomed, the gods just gave him a heads up.

But he became doomed in a particular way the moment he swung the sword down on Lady's neck.

The gods said hey, you're doomed, but here's the symbol of your house given mortal form to aid your children, and Ned killed one. His king gave a cruel, unfair order Ned disagreed with, that would hurt a child under his protection, his own daughter, to end the life of a creature that had done no harm, not for meat or furs to survive the winter but merely to satisfy the royal family's sense of offended dignity, and Ned carried that order out personally.

Ned killed Sansa's protector. He killed a gift from the gods.

Of course his own life ends on the royal executioner's block, a sword swinging down.

[blujayonthewing]

so in juniper's campaign we've just found ourselves in a high-stakes situation that I as a player do frankly find stressful and am anxious about, but hey hi also the DM was like 'okay here are the exact mechanics of how this is going to work because I don't want to surprise you with serious repercussions, also here are all the options you will have to try to do something about the situation-- [affected player] what do you think? honest feedback, I don't want it to feel unfair, I want to be clear that I am not just trying to kill your character, and if it ends up being badly balanced we can revisit it down the road' and oh my god I could COLLAPSE and WEEP with gratitude

[sonrium]

DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem

Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.

Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.

Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.

After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.

Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”

“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.

“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.

“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.

“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”

“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.

Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.

(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[kazbiter]

more on this: the way that there is not one single person who can ever make ronan do ANYTHING he doesn't want to do. time after time we see ronan refusing to do what is asked of him, to go easy on anyone, to be anything but obstinate and difficult. but when it comes to gansey: he tells ronan to take his feet off the dash and he takes them off the dash. he tells him to stop agitating blue and he stops agitating blue. he is happily satisfied and PROUD that someone else observes their dynamic as ronan being gansey's DOG. he tries so hard to translate what the trees are saying correctly for gansey that how much he cares is plainly clear on his face and he and tells him he's sorry TWICE just because it isn't absolutely perfect. and gansey knows what he needs to hear is gansey saying "you're doing really well". the sole thing that ronan want to do and therefore always will do is give gansey anything he asks for. he is primarily concerned with establishing his place by gansey's side and being the one that gansey first looks to because he will always, ALWAYS provide what gansey requires.

only ronan lynch would openly say some shit like silly gansey and his little "follow me!" voice that works on mice and small children like a loser fairytale prince lmao. oh yeah no it of course also definitely works on me too no doubt.

[shotmrmiller]

johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.

he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.

and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.

the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.

a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)

"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."

excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."

"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."

you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—

"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.

"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."

-

damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.

he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.

you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.

lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.

double damn.

"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—

"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."

when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.

-

the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.

simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—

his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.

the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.

"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."

somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.

"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"

the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.

he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.

the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.

as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.

"hush."

you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"

you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.

wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.

the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.

"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.

"gonna beg?"

the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."

the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.

"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.

he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.

and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.

"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.

"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—

the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.

"ya with me?"

you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.

"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.

simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—

"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?

"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.

"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."

he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.

his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.

he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."

that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.

his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.

your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.

"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."

your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—

and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.

"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."

there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.

simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"

he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.

simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.

"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.

it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.

simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—

"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."

there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.

"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."

a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.

you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.

your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.

your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.

(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)

his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.

and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."

"pet."

"please stop looking at me like that."

he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.

"make me."

-

as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.

your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.

when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.

good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.

sent 5:30 am

about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.

sent 5:49 am

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi going absolutely insane when someone talks shit about you, his one and only girlfriend.

And I'm not saying insane as in "Don't talk about her like that!". I'm saying insane as in "Say her name again with that filthy mouth of yours and I swear I'll cut your fucking tongue off."

He can handle people badmouthing him. It's not that deep, really. He's a football player, so, like every other athlete, he has fans and haters all around the globe (more fans than haters, but anyways). So, he developed the hability to just tune off all the hateful comments. Badmouth him all you want, that ain't changing the fact that he's a sucessful all star player and you're not.

What he can't handle, though, is when someone tries to talk shit about his relationship with you, his favorite person in the whole world.

Sadly for the media, you're not a famous singer or model. Yoichi and you met when you were both still little kids, dreaming about monsters, princesses and the world cup trophy. In kindergarten, he thought you were a very great friend. He realized you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen when you were middle schoolers, and, by the time high school came, he had already learned to accept the fact that he was head over heels for you. And so, like a "straight out of a movie" kind of scene, he confessed his love for you all sweaty and smiling in front of the whole world after his winning goal at the Blue Lock XI against Japan U20 match two years ago.

So yeah, you and Isagi had a cute love story. Every video of you together had millions of views and thousands of "couple goals" comments, and people loved you (honestly, how could they not? You're amazing, he's not even sure how he managed to make you fall for his "football rizz" or something, but he's glad you did anyways).

Apparently, not everyone appreciated you as much as he thought.

"Isagi, one minute of your time, please!"

"Isagi, for french press right here!"

"Yoichi, answer my question!"

"Wow. One at a time, guys!" Isagi smiled nervously yet kindly, sitting in a chair in front of the mass of reporters from all across the world who came just to interview him.

Smiling again, Isagi pointed at one of the what seemed like thousands interviewers.

"The lady over there, with the Sae Itoshi shirt"

"Thank you for the opportunity" The room became silent. The woman, seemingly in her late twenties, smiled "I'm Maria, from Brazil's national TV press. I'd like to ask a question you about your relationship with (Name) (Surname)"

Smiling wide like a lovesick fool like he always did when someone mentioned you or your relationship, Yoichi urged the reporter to continue.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"It's a known fact that you and (Name) (Surname) have been in a relationship for a little over two years. And so, your fans are wondering: do you plan on getting married shortly?"

The silence in the room was papable. All the cameras and microphones turned to a now strawberry red Yoichi. But he wasn't embarassed because of all the attention he was getting or from the fact that the whole world was seeing this right now. He was used to this feeling of "pressure" already.

He was red because he knew you were watching this interview. He was the one who asked you to do so, after all.

"Uhm... well" he swallowed hard, eyes avoiding the cameras "We have a healthy and happy relationship. We both love each other very much and spend a lot of time together. So... I guess I'd be lying if I told you I haven't thought about it before, but..."

He couldn't even finish his sentence. The press' reaction was instantaneous. Cameras' flashes everywhere and the reporters voices overlaping eachother filled the room.

"BUT" Isagi tried to continue, but just gave up on shouting since his voice couldn't compete with the voice of the lots of reporters. So, he just said to the mic in front of him, almkst whispering, hoping it would capture his voice "I think it's still a little early. I want to make sure we're both mature and financially secure first!"

Reporters were still talking and trying to get his attention. With a sigh, he realized they wouldn't stop shouting until the next question came.

"T-the guy with the light shirt"

"Argentinian press right here" the man started.

Oh oh. Yoichi didn't sense a good vibe from this man. He doesn't know if it's his smirk or his posture, but something feels off. He looks almost dangerous.

I'm probably going crazy, Yoichi thought.

When the man opened his mouth again, though, Isagi realized his intuition was right all along.

"I know you said you love your girlfriend, but you do realize the fans think your girl is just keeping you from becoming the best version of yourself, right?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"What." Isagi said, the words coming out in a rather forced way.

Unlike before, the silence in the room was not only palpable. It was now suffocating, uncomfortable.

"Well, it's clear as water" the man shrugged, as if what he was saying made a lot of sense "She is stopping you from becoming the number one striker in the world."

All Isagi wanted to do now was jump across the room and send his fist flying straight to the man's face. He wanted it to realize how utterly wrong he was. How your relationship was actually the best thing that had ever happened in his life, and how he would have probably given up on football have you not begged him to go to the Blue Lock program.

And the though of you sweet, caring you watching this made Yoichi give up on his idea of hitting the man straight on the nose, even if his body was trembling just from thinking about it.

I have to keep my cool. For her.

"Why..." he swallowed. Hard. "Why do you think this is truth?"

"You're not using your time wisely. Instead of practicing, your wasting it because you keep giving for futile things like a relationship"

Oh, how much Yoichi wanted to jump this ugly looking clown. How he wished to hit him hundreds of times, over and over again until he swallowed his own words. Until he regretted ever learning how to even speak.

His fist was already trembling. He was taking deep breaths to keep himself steady.

But it seems like the argentinian doesn't know when to stop.

"Also, it gets kinda tiring living with the same person for a long time, no?" The man laughed "I wouldn't blame you if you're actually cheating on her too, I honestly wouldn't have just one girl if I was you. I mean, you're a star and she's just..."

"Shut. the fuck. up."

All the cameras turned to him again. Yoichi was red. But it's not cause he was embarassed, like the other time.

He was red because he was seething with boiling rage.

I'll kill him. I swear I'll fucking kill this dumb shit.

"Never" Yoichi narrowed his eyes "And I mean never say my girlfriend's name with that disgusting voice of yours again. If you as much as look at her, consider yourself fucking dead." He got up from the table, gaze harder than the one he wears on the field "That woman is the source of my happiness, and you have no right to talk about her like that. If you talk with me with respect you have to show respect for her too. Are we clear? Or is your skull too fucking thick for the information to get into it?

"Calm down, amigo! I was just saying what the fans think." The man smirked, gald to get a reaction from Isagi. If looks could kill, he would have been 6 feet under already "They think it would be better if you both break up..."

"You've fucking done it."

Yoichi jumped from the table, ready to kill the man.

He wanted to crush his skull with his bare hands, to show him just how much you mean to him and how mad he gets when someone mentions you in a degrading way.

Gladly, the japanese PR team removed the man from the room before things could get worse, or else Yoichi would realky have done some damage (he was an athlete, after all).

Watching the man leave the room with furrowed brows and a subtle pout (he really wanted to beat him, after all), Iaagu decided to use this moment to make some things clear. So, he turned to the main mic again.

"I hope this serves as a lesson" Yoichi said, somehow managing to look at almost all of the cameras at the same time "To everyone watching this. Don't expect to talk shit about my girlfriend and get out with all of your teeth in place. I fucking dare anyone to badmouth her. I won't let you get away with it." He glared at one of the cameras "This press ends now."

He then quickly got out of the room, ignoring all the reporters who tried to get him to come back.

With a sigh, once he was in the changing room, he grabbed his phone, not surprised to see almost 20 missed calls and 50 missed massages from you.

(My love ❤️)

-> YOICHI???

-> WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

-> (1 missed call)

Don't worry, I'm going home now 😁 <-

Miss you ❤️ <-

-> Typing...

With a smile, he put his phone in his pocket and started to go home.

Man, he just really wanted to see you. Specially since he knew that the next day, the press would want more interviews about what happened.

Whatever. What really matters is that, at the end of the day, you're his and he's yours. And no amount of dumb reporters or media will ever change that.

~ A/N: not proofread. This sucks 💔 I wrote this to stop my growing Aiku obsession LOL

Masterlist

[sanguineterrain]

in the buff | jason todd

Summary: The one where you learn firsthand that Jason Todd sleeps in the nude.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings/tags: best friend jason, awkwardness, nudity, reader hardcore thirsting over jaytodd, love confessions, humor (attempts at it, anyway), silliness. inspired by this post!

the divider

There's been a huge (blessed) development in the drug ring case that you and Jason are working on. You can hardly sleep now.

Normally, you'd call or text Jason, even though he's usually already in the know. It's possible that you just like having an excuse to call him, but who can confirm such a thing?

But it's late, probably too late to call, considering Jason doesn't answer his phone unless it's pinged directly to his helmet after a certain time, courtesy of his family being "a buncha jackasses" (his words, obviously).

But maybe it's not too late for a visit. After all, Jason patrols late, and has insane insomnia. He very well could be awake at this late hour. And he's never minded you dropping by before.

In truth, you haven't seen Jason in a few days and you feel restless now when you go longer than a day without seeing each other. You're not quite sure why that is.

So here you are, disabling the window alarm on Jason's apartment. Partly for a case, partly for your own benefit.

It takes a few minutes but you manage to open the window without anyone calling the police or whacking you with a broom. You slide open the window mostly soundlessly. Then you wait. The room remains dark and quiet.

You're pretty proud of yourself actually. It's not that you're green when it comes to spycraft, but you're certainly no Batman.

Still, you've managed to sneak into Jason's apartment without waking him. The Red Hood. You peek in to check if he's really asleep.

And he is, dark hair stark against the white pillow. It sticks out in messy tufts. You can't see past Jason's neck and his freckled arms, illuminated by the orange streetlight outside. You put your laptop bag on the floor.

He's sleeping on his stomach, facing away from you, but you're very endeared by how he's curled up under his sheet, hands tucked under his pillow. If you went really close to his face, you could count his eyelashes. Jason has such pretty eyelashes.

That's a perfectly normal thought to have about your best friend, right? Boys have pretty eyelashes. You're just making an observation.

You're bewildered by how cold the room is, surprised that Jason can withstand such a temperature. Maybe it's a Pit thing.

You watch him for a moment longer. Guilt pools in your gut. Are you really going to wake him when he's probably just gone to bed in the last hour? It takes Jason so long to fall asleep, you know that.

...

No, you should let him sleep. You can work on the case in the morning.

You bend down to get your laptop bag. In that time, the light flicks on.

You flinch, turn around, and find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Said gun is held by an extremely naked Jason Todd.

"Oh my God!" you say at the same time Jason realizes his mistake.

"What the fuck!" he shouts, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.

But not before you get an eyeful of your best friend's, er, weaponry.

"Why are you naked?" you shout, gaze darting everywhere. Good Lord, it's seared into your retinas. You're never getting the image of Jason's dick out of your brain.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Jason snaps back.

"No, my question is way more urgent," you say.

"No the hell it's not! You broke in! I'm allowed to be naked in my apartment!"

"Okay. Alright. I came because there's been a development in our case. I thought we could work on it together but when I realized you were asleep for real, I decided to leave."

Jason rolls his eyes. "You know I'm a light sleeper. I just went to bed. I was up late.”

Realization strikes you. Could it be...?

"Oh my God. Do you have someone here?" you ask, voice sinking to a whisper.

"I have you here," Jason says irritably.

"No, like—" You make a hole with one hand and stick a finger into it. "Y'know..."

"Jesus, no!" Jason's face twists in disgust. "C'mon!"

"Okay, chill out, Jay-Jay. It'd be fine if you did. I can keep a secret," you say, shrugging. People have sex. You know that. You've never thought about Jason having sex, but you suppose it's possible. Why not? Just because you've never had sex and you always hoped that Jason would be your first doesn't mean that he would. If he's moved on in his life, then you should too.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, okay. You think anybody would get into bed with a headcase like me?"

Hope rekindles. You're not behind. Jason's right there with you, virginity firmly intact.

He puts the safety back on the gun, squishing the pillow against himself with his elbow. You watch in fascination at his multitasking. Jason starts to turn around to put the gun behind the headboard before clearly thinking twice about mooning you.

"So... why are you naked?" you ask, respectfully keeping your eyes north of the equator.

"If you must know, I sleep in the nude. Now turn around."

You don't turn around. "In the nude?"

Jason's eye twitches. "Yes, nude. It's better for your body and it's more comfortable and I don't—"

You pull a face. "Who says in the nude? How old are you, a hundred?"

"That's what you're harping on?" Jason asks. "You broke into my apartment!"

You hold up a finger. "I didn't break in, I disarmed the alarm like you taught me."

"Yeah, which was only for emergencies. This isn't an emergency. Now turn around!"

So you turn around. You hear the pillow fall and the image returns. You recite the alphabet backwards. When that doesn't work, you think about the time you helped Jason on a mission in the sewers and couldn't get the smell out of your suit for a week.

Yeah, that'll do it. You shudder.

"Can't believe you just broke in," he mumbles. "Raised in a fuckin' barn, swear to God."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm truly, honestly sorry, Jaybee. From the bottom of my heart. Can I look now?"

"If you dare."

"Are you decent?" you ask.

"Too easy of a joke," he says. "Yeah, the jewels are covered."

You turn slowly. Jason's got red (ha) boxers on, so you turn all the way.

Huh. Well.

You've never really thought much about what Jason's got going on underneath his armor. Certainly, you've assumed that he's got a good physique and a lot of stamina, considering what he does. You've always assumed that. But Jason's Jason. Your best friend, Jason. Your best friend, Jason, who came back really tall, yeah, and with a deep voice and a super pretty face...

Well, anyway. He's Jason. That's all.

But now? Now you get to look in depth, and... whoa.

Jason's broad, stocky, heavily muscled with a soft layer of fat on top. His arms are huge, hands proportionally big. His pecs are full with pink nipples the same shade as his lips. That's a fact you're never forgetting. Your belly flutters.

Okay, what the fuck! No. This is peak creepy behavior, leering at your best friend like this, even if he does have shoulders you could sink your teeth into and thighs you'd happily get crushed between. No! Bad.

...You look some more. He's covered in scars. This is the first time you've seen his autopsy scar in person. It's white, noticeable but healed, like most of his scars. There's a dusting of dark hair from his chest to his belly button. It thickens as it dips beneath his—

Mm, nope. Not thinking about that again.

"Hello-o."

Your eyes dart back to his face.

"Are you listening to me?" he asks, forehead crinkled.

"What? Yes. Sorry. Yes." Your cheeks burn.

Something crosses Jason's face, too quick for you to read. But then his expression stones over. He glances at the dresser across from the bed.

"If you gimme a sec, I'll put a shirt on so y'won't have to look at all this," he says, gesturing roughly to his body.

You blink, lost in Jasonland. "Huh?"

"I know the scars are pretty gnarly. Lemme find a shirt."

Jason goes to the dresser and digs through the top drawer. His wide back is strung tight with tension, you can tell. You hurry to him, blocking the drawer with your arm. Jason looks at you, brows rising.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"Um."

Words. You remember words, don't you?

"You..."

You haven't been physically close to Jason in a long time. He smells like soap and detergent and is all-encompassing. Your brain feels like slush. Don't stare at his pecs.

"I didn't—I'm not grossed out by your scars, Jason," you finally manage to say.

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Sure. You're just grossed out by everything else about me." He sighs wearily, like he's practiced this speech every night in the mirror. "Look, it's fine. I know I'm really—"

"No, it's not fine! I can't bear having you think I'm repulsed by your body, Jason. That's just not true," you say.

"Well, you were starin' pretty hard, so—"

"But it wasn't—I wasn't staring in disgust, I was—I..."

Jason crosses his arms. His pecs are pushed up as he does so. His stomach looks so soft. But you know he's strong. Way stronger than you. Strong enough to wield his strength against you, if you wanted him to. Strong enough to be gentle with you, too.

You wonder if he's still ticklish.

"You're doin' it again!" Jason says, and this time he really does look hurt. Fuck. Fuck! You're a shitty best friend.

"No!" You lock eyes with him. "No, no! I mean, yes, I was looking at you. But I wasn't looking in a bad, judgy way. I was, uh, taking in your physique. Because you have a... a very nice body. I've never seen you without clothes so I was looking at you. Sorry."

Yeah, you'll just go die in a hole after this.

Jason squints at you for a long moment. You start to shift in place. Sweat beads on your forehead. You lick your lips, hoping Jason can hear your honesty.

"Are you messin' with me?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, why would I—"

"You're really telling me that you find this," Jason gestures to his body, "Good looking?"

This is worse than any physical torture. You'd prefer Batman beating you up on a roof to being here.

You rub your temple, cheeks aflame. "Oh my God. Yes, Jason, you're a good looking guy. Can we move on?"

"No, 'cause I think you're lyin', and I don't like it. You're always honest with me."

"I am being honest," you say, suddenly more annoyed than anything. Because what the fuck? "Are you kidding me? There's a whole forum dedicated to the Red Hood and how much people want you to step on them. And that's without seeing your face! I have eyes, Jason, of course I find you attractive."

And that should be the end of it. Jason's already slack-jawed like a dead fish. But no, you keep going.

"You make me nervous and I thought I had a lid on it because we knew each other as kids but it's becoming clear that I very much don't, and that probably has to do with the fact that you're the only guy I've been close to, and I never got over you. And now I'm gonna go drown myself in the Hudson. Good night."

You go to slip out the window. Maybe it'll shut on your head and knock you out. That would be a divine gift.

It doesn't, though. The universe isn't so kind. Instead, Jason catches your arm and keeps you rooted to your spot. His hand is cold. You wonder if the rest of him is warm.

"Wait, wait. Just hang on."

You groan. "Dude, I'm fucking mortified over the last five minutes. Please let me keep some of my dignity," you say without looking at him.

"Now when have I ever done that?" You can hear the smile in his voice.

And suddenly, the miserable reality of never being more than friends with Jason Todd comes crashing down. It's too late. You've always been too late.

You sag in his grip.

"We can just forget this ever happened," you say quietly. "Chalk it up to idiocy."

"Mm, yeah, we could. 'Cept I don't think you're an idiot. And I want you to hear what I have t'say first. Will ya look at me?"

Mopily, you look at him. His hand drops.

"I—"

"You've never slept naked," you say before he can get a word out. "That's new. Otherwise, I would've known, and then I would've used the door."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Can I speak?"

You cross your arms. "Yeah, okay."

"First of all, I don't think it's necessary for me to disclose that I sleep in the nude." You open your mouth to argue. "But I know it was a mistake. I'm not mad about that. Okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

"I won't lie and say I'm not surprised at your... reaction. I don't really... I've never... I'm not Dick or Bruce, y'know? I wasn't told my whole life what a handsome boy I am. And dying and returning didn't really help with that stuff either."

"I think you're handsome, Jason," you say quietly. "Honest."

He coughs and looks away, a tiny blush on his cheeks. "Yeah, uh, think you've made that pretty clear. For the record, I think you're really beautiful. Always thought so."

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean... yeah."

"You're just saying that 'cause I saw your vein cane," you say, grinning.

"Don't call it that."

"How about—"

"No."

You're both quiet.

"How 'bout pork swor—"

"No!"

You smile, eyes squinty. Jason glares.

"Don't nickname my thing," he says.

You nod solemnly. "You're right. It's your thing. You should choose its name."

He shakes his head. "Sucha weirdo."

"Hey, I've never been with a guy. I don't know the rules of thing-naming."

Jason tilts his head. "Never?"

"Never."

"Why?"

You shrug. "Never found anyone I liked enough, I guess. I've pretty much had my heart set on you, Jason."

His face softens. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, uh, me too," he says. "You're it for me, honey. I just never... I mean, really, I never thought it would actually happen with you. Not then, not now."

"Huh. You really should've flashed me earlier. We could've sped things up exponentially."

"Yeah, why didn't I think of that," Jason says dryly.

"Dunno! We all know you're more than a pretty face."

His face reddens. You grin.

"Are you shy?" you ask, dancing on your toes.

"No. Shut up."

"You're shy! I make Jason Todd shy! Oh, this is wonderful. I should break into your apartment regularly."

"It's just new for me!" he says. "Lea' me alone."

You cozy up to him, confidence renewed by the mutual confession. You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason looks at you, hands slowly coming to rest on your waist. The rest of him is warm.

"Just teasing you, Jaybee," you say.

"Hmm." He slowly nudges your cheek with his nose. "Like y'always do?"

"Like I always do," you say sweetly. "But for the record, if we ever share a bed in the future, you're gonna have to keep the soldier in his tent."

Jason lets go of you, exasperated. "Oh, for—y'know what? Your visitation privileges are revoked. Get outta my apartment."

You put on the saddest face you can muster. "You're kicking me out? Into the cold?"

"It's eighty degrees."

You sigh loudly. "Okay, fine. Date tomorrow?"

"Seriously?" Jason asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Seriously! Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"You really wanna date me?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life."

Jason's relief is palpable and bittersweet. You'll spend the rest of your days letting him know just how spectacular he and his pectorals are.

"Okay," he says, shy again. You don't tease him this time.

"Great!" You close the distance between you and peck him on the cheek. His blinks in surprise.

"I'll give you a proper kiss on our date," you say, winking. "Bye, Jasey-Daisy."

"Bye, honey. Don't break into anyone else's apartment on your way home."

"Never," you say, climbing out the window. "You're the only one for me, Toddy!"

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”

[suiana]

(yandere! demon harem x gn! human reader) (reader is human)

"i think it's working! i see their shape-"

"cursed satan! our blood sweat and tears are finally paying off? we'll finally see a real human?"

"kya kya kya! I'm so excited!"

your ears ring loudly, your hands clutching the sides of your head as you let out a soft whimper. what the hell just happened?! one moment you were in your room lazing around, the next a magic ring formed below you and now you're... in hell?

is this hell? did you die?

you weren't quite sure if it was. it certainly looked dark and eerie with the current setting you wer ein Right now having skulls everywhere. but seeing the horribly demonic creatures in front of you talk in minecraft enchantment table confirmed everything you suspected.

that you were dead. probably.

"u-um... am i dead-"

"huzzah! the human has been summoned! they're so tiny!"

"oh my satan below! look at them..! they look just like an angel..."

"kya! i want to eat them! look at their confused face!"

you stare at the three demons who were surrounding you, blinking slowly before you let out a shaky sigh. were they talking about how many sins you've committed? the amount of times you jerked off to fictional characters? is that what the book in their hands were? a list of all your wrong doings?

you immediately submerged yourself in a depressive state, frowning as you begin to silently regret all your life choices up until now. damn it, you should've jerked off one last time before you died-

meanwhile, the demons were discussing what dinner they should give you.

"kya! do you think that the human will enjoy goat broth with human meat?"

"no no! allow them to eat elven tarts first! those are nice!"

"you fools, we should ask them first."

one of the demons mumble, arms crossed across his toned chest before the other two demons nod excitedly, turning towards you. their grimoire was immediately throw away, hitting a poor skull off the shelf.

oof.

anyway!

"ahem... human, allow us to introduce ourselves... we are-"

"kya! demons!"

"yes! and we're so excited to have you here!"

"worry not, you aren't dead. we just summoned you because we wanted to have a human for our experiment."

the three of them suddenly talk in english, eagerly looking down at you with wide grins. you wouldn't have been so thrown off if not for the fact that their teeth were so sharp and they looked like they were about to chop you up for their so called 'experiment'.

you gulp nervously, opening your mouth to ask them what type of experiment. but it looks like they read your mind or something.

"kya! it's a love experiment! don't worry!"

"yes! don't you worry too much cute human! we will never ever hurt you! maybe love you too much though..."

"mn, that's right. we are just conducting an experiment..."

the calmer of the three pauses mid sentence, approaching you as he suddenly bends down to your height, his demonic appearance closing in on your face. your heart races, feeling his hot breath on your skin before you feel your mind go blank at his words.

"where we see how long it takes for a human to fall for three demons. specifically three that are obsessed with said human already."

...

huh?

just... what the hell was going on?!

[myfeetrcolddd]

Boundaries? Never heard of them.

Growing up with Theo had desensitized you to things, like how he was always holding your hand, or how he insisted on cuddling anytime you were to sit down on a couch together, or how he would kiss you on the cheek hello or goodbye, except the kiss was hardly on your cheek and right at the corner of your mouth.

Sure, you were aware how the relationship between the two of you was not the average one of two best friends, but you didn't really mind it. You had gotten used to it, it felt weird to even think about things between the both of you being any different.

It was only when Theo got a girlfriend did you realize things would have to change, much to your dismay, and to Theo's too apparently.

"What'd you mean I can't hold your hand anymore?" Theodore looked taken nearly offended as he said those words, his face twisting in confusion and distaste.

"Theo, you have a girlfriend now." You say, wrapping your arms around your middle uncomfortably. "We can't just hold hands all the time, or at all."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Next thing I know you're going to tell me we can't cuddle during movie nights or when I sleep over."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" You exclaim, tired from having to reiterate the same thing over and over. "And from now on we shouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed at sleep overs, if your girlfriend would even be comfortable with us having sleepovers"

"You're being ridiculous, Angel, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"I'm being serious, Theo, I'm setting boundaries now that you've got a girlfriend, and another thing on that list is calling me Angel." Theodore frowned harder(if that was even possible) looking taken aback by your words and down right offended.

"Boundaries? Not calling you a name I've called you since we were kids?" Theo took a step closer, which was really a problem since he had already been to close to begin with. Now he towered over you more than usual, bringing his hands up he rested them on your neck, his thumbs coming up over your jaw as he held your face close to his. His eyes were narrowed and scanning your face as though looking for something, "Has someone casted a charm on you? Maybe some potion. Either way, you're being weird and I don't like it."

"I'm being weird?! I'm not being weird!" You insisted, and you knew you should shove his hands off you, push him away or take a step back...but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You'd always liked his touch much more than a friend should. "Y-you're the weird one! Thinking we could continue as we are while you have a girlfriend."

"Why would we change anything?" He asked, as though he was truly confused. "I like the way things are between us."

"Well I can't imagine your girlfriend likes the way things are. I'm sure that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't like how things are." You had mumbled the last part under your breath, an after thought to your previous sentence, still Theo heard it and his confusion and annoyance turned to something darker.

"Boyfriend?" He questioned, his voice low and more gravely that usual. "What's you having a boyfriend got to do with anything? You, you don't have one do you? No boy here is good enough for you, and I wouldn't change my ways for some sleaze like him."

Theos words had been harsh, a sharp edge to them as he spoke, he'd never spoken like that before, at least not to you. It was odd, he seemed mad at the thought of you having a boyfriend, outraged even, the emotions just simmering beneath the surface.

"No, Theo, I don't have a boyfriend," He looked to deflate a little at this, relaxing slightly, "It's not like I could have gotten one anyway, everyone thought we were dating from the way we acted, and it didn't help that you practically growled at any guy that would try to come up to me." You scoff, annoyed but Theo seemed the opposite, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.

"Was that so bad though? It's not like any of them were good enough for your attention anyways." His hands slid from your neck down to your waist as he seemed to pull you closer.

"Look, we're getting off track. We need to set some boundaries." You press your hands against his chest and push him off you gently, he seems to allow this and walks back a few steps before taking a seat on the edge of your bed and staring up at you. You blushed slightly from the way he was looking at you.

Theo groaned and rolled his eyes, "I still don't see why we need those."

"Because you have a girlfriend for crying out loud!" You say, exasperated form having to repeat yourself, "How would you feel if your girlfriend, the girl you like, had a friend that was overly touchy and clingy and borderline cheating on you with him?"

This seemed to stump him, "The girl I like?" He muttered to himself, then his eyes trailed back to you and his jaw clenched. "No...no I wouldn't like that at all."

"See! That's what I mean. That's likely what your girlfriend is feeling about how we are with each other." But Theo didn't seem like he was really listening at this point.

Inside his head, a switch had flipped for him and he realized something. His eyes widening, lips parting, and cheeks heating up slightly and he turned to look up at you through his eye lashes.

"Shit." He murmured, staring at you and his pupils seemed to dilate. It was like he was seeing you in a whole new light, you were as beautiful as you ever were, the same angel he thought you were all those years ago, but now he realized it was so much more than looked with you. And he was stupid to think this was how best friends were with each other.

Really, could he be any more daft? Standing up, he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting it's prey. He didn't stop until he was closer than before, his hands cradling your head on each side and pulling you close.

His face was right above yours, your noses nearly touching and your breaths mingling. "I'm an idiot." He muttered, his eyes getting lost in yours. "A stupid and blind idiot." His forehead dropped down to yours and he closed his eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Before you could register what was going on his lips were on yours, his hands holding your head tightly against his as he kissed you. You had tried your best not to give in, but you couldn't help yourself because it was the one boy you had liked all your life, finally kissing you, and like his life depended on it at that.

So, you kissed him back, arms twining around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer. One of your hands threaded through the hair on the back of his head and you gripped it tightly and he groaned before kissing you harder.

Then, as fast as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away, cheeks blotchy and red and pupils so big you could hardly see the blue green color of his eyes. "I'm going to fix this. Then I'll be right back." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, "Don't leave." And then another kiss and then he was gone, your dorm door slamming shut behind him as you stood in stunned silence.

A hand lifted to your face and I gently touched your lips, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and your mind was reeling. That wasn't how things were supposed to go...at all.

[dilf-docs]

Hand To Heart (I'm Gonna Stay Faithful)

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: a pregnancy scare makes you realize just how deep you are in this.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pregnancy scare, fingering (WE GET IT U LIKE IT), bit of praise kink, humilliation kink, breeding kink (they're stupid and insane acc), dacryphilia, sex thru the looking glass (there's a mirror in reader's dorm), ANGST in capital, they're starting to catch the feels™ ur honor, hurt/comfort, plot thiccens, this people are clearly NOT in a good headspace btw idk we listen read and don't judge.

word count: 4,757 words

side note: everyone calling this joel nasty but thirsting after him too? was going to hold a trial over my citizens but yk... what the hell, sure! i too want nasty bfd!joel to ruin me: he can be my baby daddy who doesn't pay for child support of our 4 kids and we'd make way to bed for our 5th LET'S GO also spam time! but i also happen to write in wattpad, and got a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) it's on spanish tho, but if u speak the language and would like to tune in, u can read it here

part: prev | masterlist | next

It's a regular Tuesday when his phone rings at ten in the morning.

"Dad"

Joel gets up from his desk in a brash move, immediately picking up his daughter's worried tone. Tommy bursts inside, telling him to calm down, but all Joel can hear is the anxious beat in his chest.

"What's it, babygirl? You okay?" his throat tightens. "Talk to me"

There's silence before she answers, as if she's unsure to continue.

"It's not me" he feels his muscles relaxing, but then Sarah drops the bomb. "It's y/n"

Joel's heart beats with a different type of worry.

"What's wrong with her?" voice firm but emotionless.

It's almost summer again, and he's still seeing you. In a way, you had carved a space for yourself in his cold heart, so naturally, fear settles in. He'd never admit this things out loud, though.

"I don't know, dad" his daughter starts to rush the words out, panic evident on her voice. "She has locked herself in the bathroom and won't stop crying. I-I didn't know who else to call"

"Don't worry" but it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "M' comin'. S'anyone else in there?"

There's a pause on the line before she answers.

"No"

He thinks of you. He'd seen you cry before, of course, but it'd been over silly childish stuff, like getting sent to bed early or not getting what you wanted for Christmas.

He thinks of you. Images of your pretty face, etched in pain, make his stomach drop. It isn't fair: your face was one destined to be happy for eternity, your smile so contagious Joel would sometimes find himself surrendering to your juvenile joy, his crow feet a little more notorious since you entered his life and carved your space on it by force; a light in the dark.

He just couldn't bear to see a mirror of his dullness on your face. It wasn't right.

"Stay put. I'll be there"

He tries not to think about your eyes drained of life. He tries not to think he's the cause. And then, he hangs.

As soon as Joel enters your dorm, your perfume is up his nostrils, providing him with a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. It was comforting and familiar, words that used to be hollow now carrying a knowing feeling that stung right on his chest.

"Dad" Sarah calls out, going for a hug. Joel embraces his daughter tightly while caressing her hair. "I'm so glad that you're here. I didn't know what to do"

"Breath in, babygirl. S'alright" he looks at your door, closed. Broken sobs can be heard, and his wounded heart feels like a heavy burden on his chest.

"My class starts in ten" Sarah speaks against the fabric of his flannel, "but I just couldn't leave her like this"

His daughter has a good heart. At least one of them did, anyway.

"Go to your class" he's commanding before he can fully process what he said.

Sarah breaks the hug, looking at him with a look he can't quite place.

"What? But, dad-" she tries to protest, concerned for your wellbeing.

"I'll take care of it. Always do, haven't I?" he sees her hesitation, and afraid of where her doubts would take her, Joel adds a small joke in there. "Y'know those classes ain't free, kid. Go ahead"

"Okay" she gives up. "Just... tell me if anything happens, yes?"

"F'course. Trust me"

"I trust you"

He still remembers when Sarah's kindergarten teacher handed him that drawing: Joel was wearing a cape, and she said his little girl had told everyone in class his dad was a superhero because there was nothing he couldn't do. That same admiration and faith is there in her eyes, even as the small naive kid slips from his fingers and turns into the woman that stands before him. He's not the devil, but the worst father in the world, and that is pretty much the same to him.

When Sarah is out of your dorm, he's trapped inside the small room with your heavy crying on the other side of the door. He looks at the small place, thinking about all the times he's sneaked inside during the night, hiding like a criminal as you wait for him behind the door full of scrapped stickers, ready to capture his lips with an eagerness that gnaws his chest.

Now it's just him and your sobs, his terrified reflection displayed in the mirror in front of your bed, mockingly staring back.

What are you doing? it questions, and Joel, always ready to answer, has suddenly lost the ability to speak.

Forcing himself out of such a pitiful state, he approaches the door, knocking softly.

"Sarah" your hoarse voice speaks up, and just then, he realizes how much he loves hearing your voice, no matter how it sounds. "Don't you have classes to go to? Leave me, please. I promise I'm good, I-"

Joel hears your distress, so he interrupts what looks like the start of a nervous rambling wreck. Huh, doesn't he know you so well?

"Sarah's gone" a beat, "It's me, Joel"

As if you wouldn't recognize that deep voice even if you were deaf.

There's silence before the door flings open, surprising Joel, who takes a step back, barely noticeable to the rest, but obvious to you, who has spent hours admiring him and all his small movements, he who you could draw by memory and built in your head as real as he who was standing before you, his eyes circling with a whirlwind of emotions you can't quite place, yet make your heart race.

Joel takes in the sight of you, deciding it's unfair how good you look, despite your disheveled hair, run mascara and red-rimmed eyes: you are still the prettiest sight he's ever seen, and now he doesn't know what scares him the most.

"You're wearing my shirt" he says out loud his latest discovery. It's all he manages to say: not an are you okay? nor an what's wrong?

No, Joel just happens to be very stupid(ly in love).

"Sarah didn't see me" you hug the fabric that makes your frame look smaller, or maybe it's your tired composture that makes it seem that way, avoiding Joel from enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. "If that's what you wanted to know. Been inside there for hours, already was when she came by"

The fact that you rather explain and assure him of his supposed possible worries instead of sharing your own, makes his stomach tie on a knot. Were you too kind or perhaps selfless? Maybe just stupid(ly in love).

Joel grunts, and you're not sure if it's his way of dissmissing your comment (maybe he thinks you're lying), chastising you in a shallow manner or the fact that you're poorly trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Maybe he thinks you're still a foolish careless child who can't comprehend the weight of whatever it is you're doing by being with your bestfriend's dad behind everyone's back.

"Tell me" he gets closer to you, fingers on your cheeks, but they don't dig the skin, instead, his roughness hiding a surprising tenderness to them. "What happened, y/n?"

The rawness in his voice takes you by surprise. Joel Miller, who seemed a man impossible to waver, now stood before you, wrapped in a gloom that left you at loss for words, something akin to hope planting it's seed on your heart.

"Tell me" he demands, yet his pupils move as unsteady as your heart. There's no power for command in his voice, only what you could allude to helplessness.

Was it because you were putting up walls like he did?

Was it because the consequences of being with you are starting to dawn upon him?

Whatever it is, you don't like it.

"What's wrong?" he's pushing for an answer softly, such a contrasting image to that of him in bed. "Please, talk to me"

Please.

The words slip past his trembling lips, defenses crumbling.

Joel Miller hasn't pleaded since Sarah's mother packed her bags and walked out of their shared home. He promised himself he would never be vulnerable again, never at the feet of a loved one, beggin to be seen.

To be heard. To not be hurt. To be loved.

But here you were, red eyes blown wide at a confession spoken through other words.

Please.

Your chest feels heavy, breath constricted.

"Joel..." you utter his name like a prayer. As something to believe in; something to hold.

He rushes to your side, strong arms caging around you as your labored cries fill the tiny room.

"S'alright" he whispers against your ear, burying his face on your shaking shoulder. "M' right'ere, doll"

Your hold turns more desperate, practically clinging as if your life depended on it.

"Take your time, y/n" your name so soft, you feel like crying more. "I ain't goin' anywhere"

"Promise me" you whimper, holding tightly.

"I won't go" he assures. There it is, the same unwavering strength you know. It's for you, he thinks.

"Joel" you call out again, tone terrified. "I think I'm pregnant"

It takes him at least a minute to speak. Even to breathe.

"...What?"

He feels your erratic pulse against his chest.

"Joel. Look at me"

He doesn't feel your heartbeat anymore. Just then he realizes he's backed down, embrace letting go of yours. Joel takes in your eyes, shimmering with new tears and fears.

"Joel?"

"I'm here" his voice sounds like it belongs to someone else, and the reminder like it's for himself.

"I know" your small voice speaks up, "but, just- please, look at me"

Joel holds your gaze, and it's like your air supply as been cut.

We don't want this.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks cautiously, as if you were a small animal he's afraid to scare.

"No" you breath in. "I bought the test, but I couldn't take it... I was, for the very first time in my life, scared. But there's always a first, isn't it? That's when Sarah found me"

There's always a first. You weren't afraid when he pounced you next to his sleeping daughter, neither when you didn't stop coming and he let you in everytime, and absolutely not when he obscenely ate you out while Sarah was on the phone. No, you were brave―brave enough to stand defiant when his conflicting gaze pierced through you, daring you to be the first to leave this mess and forget about him. But you were brave because you stayed, despite it all.

That had to mean something, right?

"You said you wouldn't leave me" it comes out in a shaky breath; a threat. Your voice seethes with a quiet rage. "You promised, Joel"

Like the word promise was a dagger twisting on his insides, not a sacred oath.

So he forces himself to be that hero Sarah still thinks he is. After all, he promised her he's going to solve this, didn't he?

"I did" he runs a hand through his hair. "Got the test with you?" You slowly nod. "Take it, then. I'll wait here"

You don't move from your spot, chest still moving uneven under your labored breaths.

"When you come out, I'll promise I'll still be here"

He can't promise you more. The world? It's what you deserve but not what he can give; Joel can only give so much.

"Okay" your tone is clipped, and that's all you say before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

The room feels smaller than it is, the small plastic stick feeling heavier in your fingers than it actually is. You hear the clock's tick, Joel's frantic pace and your own irrational beat. It feels like a bomb: ready to explode and destroy everything within it's range.

Time drags like a cigarette, walls closing over your shaking pale frame. Your phone has a timer going on, yet for some reason, it feels an end to your beginning. You hug your body, wishing it was Joel's arms doing so.

But you saw it: fear, hesitation. It was on his eyes, auburn cracking like wood under fire. He was weak, and so were you. All of this... it starts to loose it's meaning. What started as a summer fling now falls upon you like a second skin you can't quite wash off, and it's suffocating as much as the enclosed space where a stupid line could change the rest of your life forever.

Joel outside isn't doing much better. He's aware his walking probably set you on edge, so now he's sat at the small bed that dips under his weight. He takes one deep breath, two―then looses count.

How could he be so careless? For a brief moment, why did he let himself believe it could be?

For God's sake: you were his daughter's friend. He had seen you and Sarah play on his house, laughing on his porch, gossiping on her bedroom. Growing up.

He wanted you, a desire so consuming it sometimes kept him up at night, thoughts confusing with something else. Probably fear, probably acceptance.

Joel is aware you changed his life. You, with your wild spirit and obnoxious laugh. You whom he couldn't tear his gaze away when standing in the same room, a magnetic force making the world around you drawn to you and that dangerous allure you had that made it impossible to resist you. To forget you. To live without you.

He feels dirty. A monster. A wolf with an insatiable hunger, sinking his canine teeth on your soft flesh. He'd drink your blood, to always keep a part of you with him; to be one. Like a lamb sent to the slaughter: but you wanted it. You had placed your head inside his jaw; trusting. As if knowing he could devour you, yet he'd never hurt you. Daring, almost.

Show me you can love me. Take a bite. Take me as yours. Mark me. Ruin me for anyone else. My blood, it belongs to you. This isn't a sacrifice―this is love.

When you exit the bathroom, hand holding the pregnancy test, it's all clear to him.

For a moment even, Joel forgets there's a world outside and sees a small baby: they have your smile, your eyes―and nothing of him, because you're the sun of his moon, the light of his darkness, and that baby is a mirror of you and your beauty. You and your warmth, devoid of his cold and far from where his filth can taint it. They have to look like you, because you are the most beautiful person in the world, and suddenly, the idea one more of you is possible, makes it feel like just you isn't enough.

"It's negative"

For the second time in the day, Joel is rendered speechless. His gaze is trained on the floor, lost in thought. Besides his lack of an answer, whatever he's thinking makes you nervous.

"Joel, are you okay?" you call out.

He swallows the lump on his throat, pose awkward before he moves next to your bed.

"M' fine, baby. C'mere" he sits over it again, motioning with his hand the empty spot next to him. Joel's embrace is warm, like it shields you from the cold harsh truth.

"Are you upset?" you ask over the comfortable silence, the underlying tension stretching like a rubber band.

"No" his answer comes quick, "but I won't lie to ya', doll. Thought for a sec and ol' man like me could give a pretty girl like yourself a baby as beautiful as their mamma"

A treacherous pink dusts your cheeks. Had you lost all your common sense? Seconds ago, your life hung by a fragile thread, and now all your body can think is to go for the same risk again. Fuck it.

"Did you? I thought you were too busy freaking out"

Joel lets out a nervous laugh. "M' a busy man, doll. Learned how to do two things at once"

A fire settles in your stomach when his touch lingers over your soft flat belly, longing.

"Hmm, I see" your fingers move from his hold to his collarbone, as they play with the buttons he hasn't wore.

"Y/n" he warns. You stop for a moment, not because you're unsure, but because when you look up, his eyes don't shine with that glint of danger and hunger that gives you the thrills. Instead, they look at you with a fondness he doesn't seem to even realize―the one that gives you the hope of it all.

"I want this" you speak up, voice confident.

"I don't think that's a good idea, doll. What'ya need is-"

"You" your face gets close to his, cutting his words and breath. Joel's adam's apple bobs, your throbbing pussy going through a Pavlovian response, such action an indicator he's surrendered to you, mouth watering at just the thought. "You said you could do two things at the same time, right? The comfort me in the only way you know"

There's hesitation on his eyes, and while you think it's because he's still hung up on the idea this isn't what you need, Joel's mind is stuck in the fact you think he can only warm your bed but not your heart. It's stupid, indeed. It can't affect him that much. Ashamed, he cuts the space hanging between your lips and traps them in a heated kiss.

"Hmh, Joel" your voice barely audible as Joel's fingers grip on your hair, his sleazy tongue sliding it's way into your mouth until you can feel it in your teeth. "Please..."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Please, what?"

"Please" you whimper, feeling your back heat with droplets of sweat under Joel's shirt, the sticky feeling akin to that starting to pool in between your thighs. "Please, make me feel good"

Joel smiles adoringly, moving your body until your legs are up his shoulders. Sure, his knees covered by his dirty worn-out jeans are ruining your fresh laundry, and his joints may crack here and there, but you don't pay mind to this little things: all you care is how he's kissing your bare thighs, his salt and pepper stubble tickling skin that feels more sensitive than ever; burning almost.

"Gon' touch 'tis pretty pussy 'til you forget y'r name, doll" he breathes out. "Will ya' let me?"

You nod eagerly as he helps you get out of your panties, throwing them somewhere around the room. You smack his arm playfully at his rough manners, but then he's pressing his lips with wet ticklish kisses on your legs and laughter bubbles at the tingles it's causing.

"S-stop, Joel!" you beg, legs shaking. Your giggles are contagious, and soon the foreign feeling lifts the corners of his scowl into a smile, a concept becoming more familiar with time.

"I ain't stopping" his fingers then graze your clit, tauntingly. You whine, as Joel doesn't let up on your clit, his calloused digits coated in your arousal. "'Tis what you asked for, baby. So 'm gonna make you feel good. So good until you can't speak nothin' that ain't my name"

The threat feels like a delicious promise, so you tell him you'll behave.

"I wanna try somethin', doll. Wait" you whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, and then he's moving your body until he's against the wall and you're on the border of the bed. With your eyes, you follow his line of view. "So needy, ain't ya'? Cockhungry slut. Jus' scared the shit out of me and now you want me inside?" he tsks. "Sick fella"

"Joel..." you breath out, desire pooling into your orbs.

"Wanna see you, doll" you see your reflection in the mirror as Joel lowers his head to whisper on your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. "Want you to see yourself, too. How you'll be beggin' for me"

His middle and ring finger dip between your folds as he continues the minstrations, fingers pumping in and out as they graze your moist cunt. They start to go in circles, and even if it's not exactly next to your bed, you can see the mirror begin to fog, whines condensed in the heavy air.

His shirt clings uncomfortably to your body, but you don't care. In a way, he feels even closer to you, as if he was an extension of yourself.

Joel's body radiates heat on it's own, making the room's temperature skyrocket.

You lean your head back onto the mattress, moaning.

"Need ya' to use that pretty mouth of y'rs, doll. Say it" his fingers linger on the dip of your hips, waiting for an answer with a smirk and daring manner. "Say what ya' want; that's if you can"

It takes you a while to speak up, the slippery sound of Joel's coated fingers the only sound to be heard on your dorm.

"I... I need" you whine through labored pants, "I need you, Joel"

I need you, Joel. It's in the heat of the moment, really, yet on that very instant, he makes a silent vow that hangs unspoken in the air.

"Good girl" he bites your earlobe, making a chill run down your spine.

His fingers fuck into you just how you like it: swirling to explore your inner tight walls.

"Fuck. Love how your pussy takes me, doll. 'S mine, isn't it? Say it, say who this pussy belongs to. Who's the only man allowed to have it"

You close your eyes, but the answer comes clear. "You, Joel. Just you"

You whine, feeling him go harder in a new-found confidence. Your nails dig on his biceps, but he doesn't flich, still busy burying his fingers inside your clit as his mouth continues spilling filthy shit you barely can comprehend, mind starting to go numb.

Normally, Joel would make you cum on his fingers, always making sure to lick it after, claiming it was bad manners to leave to waste. But today, the clock ticking in your wall, he knows he must hurry.

"Eager, eh?" you taunt back, seeing how quickly he's pulling down his underwear, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Your dripping cunt welcomes his cock, tip teasing your entrance.

"Don't" he seethes.

"Don't?" you laugh. "Don't what, laugh?"

His fingers grab your jaw tightly, forcing you to look behind you.

"Don't stop lookin', doll"

Joel slips the tip of his cock into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady you. He looks at you through the mirror, seeing your dazed eyes, waiting as you bite your lip.

"That's it, good girl" he praises, purring against your ear. You see his face go down and lick the side of your neck before sinking his teeth in it. "Gonna reward you for'at"

Your mouth falls agape when he fully pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself to the limit in the first thrust. You moan, stretch wet pussy trying to adjust to his girth. He groans, his hips moving back and forth with yours, to meet his thrusts.

"R-right there" you whimper, feeling eyes starting to water. It had been a long day, and with his cock buried deep inside you, you can't think of anything else: just him―like this, for the rest of your life; you don't need more. "Fuck, don't stop"

His thumb rubs across your cheekbone, capturing a tear that had slipped past your foggy mind in a brittle moment of vulnerability, brown eyes flickering with something else. It could be.

We could be.

"Fuck, you cryin' over this cock, doll? What'a fuckin' slut" he laughs incredulously, but there's a hidden fondness to it. "S' that how good 'm makin' you feel?"

You can only moan, his dick harder now, his infatuation with your fucked-out state evident in the way his movements become more hectic.

"Can't even speak? What'a dirty minx inside 'tis sexy little body"

"Mhm" you blabber, tears running hot down your cheeks, landing on the mattress in fat droplets, noticeable through the reflection even. Joel stares back at your puffy eyes, devotion pouring at your glossy gaze, coated in a faint red tint, more pronounced from your earlier cries. Fuck. Never did he think your lambent eyes and sniffle sounds could turn him on this much. Something about him being the cause of it has his head spinning.

"New rule" he growls, "you keep those pretty red eyes lookin' at me when you cum"

You whimper at his words, the powerful aura they carry pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. You feel your tight folds clenching around his cock, hands holding to his back while your nails dig in it. You feel yourself approaching your release, multiple tears escaping down your cheekbone. In an obscene gesture, it isn't his thumb but his tongue what removes the wet stream from your body, feeling the salty drops on his tastebuds.

You were already so worked up, it was a matter of seconds before you could cum at any moment. Your walls clench around his length, and before you can process, Joel pulls your body up, caging your tits until they're pressed against his soft chest. You face the white paint of your wall, and Joel can see your back in the mirror as he's still buried inside of you. You gasp at the change in position, all of the sudden, a painfull delicious sensation flooding your senses.

"You're gonna cum, aren't ya', doll?" Joel's asking, hot breath nestled in your neck.

"Hmh" you barely manage to blurt as he fucks into you harder, your arms clutching onto him. You were being so loud now that you were sure you'd get at least one noise complain, hoping it stays there; if they found out not only had you been fucking, but with a fourty year old man who happpened to be the father of your bestfriend, you'd probably get expelled. "So close..."

"You know?" he whispers, voice fragile over the sound of your pants and worked up breaths. "I was scared, ealier. M' sorry you had to see that" your body trembles, making you close your eyes. "But I need ya' to know, for'a moment, I did think about having a kid with you"

Your forehead drips with sweat, mixing with the sodium of your tears.

"Maybe in 'nother life, huh?"

Your heart feels like it's about to burst when he sloppily kisses you, as to prevent any words come out of your mouth―humilliating or full of regret, avoiding the heart ache of a rejection. Joel, for a moment, lets his heart wander off to territories he shouldn't, thinking of things he should leave to be. Joel digs his hole deeper, but he doesn't care: he just wants to be the best grave in your cementery.

"Maybe" you answer, but it sounds like a possibility, the promise of a foolish mind betraying the guarded hidden hope.

"Fuck, Joel" you bury your face against his soft pecs, your orgasm crashing over you. Your whine comes our rather loud, trying to drown the sound against his body. He doesn't stop holding you on his arms, firm; you'd probably fallen if he didn't.

"Wait for me, doll. 'M close"

"Please" you plead, kissing his jaw. "Need you. Want to feel you, Joel"

Not daddy, but his name. I want you. I need you. Want to feel you; for you to fill me. He groans, rhythm sloppy as he crashes his lips into yours. he should stop, especially after today's events, but God, his traitorous head is filled with images of you, belly round with his child, one carved to be the spitting image of you.

Do it.

You moan inside his mouth when you feel him finish inside of you, thick, your fingers running through his dark greying hair damp with sweat.

"M' right here" he says his words from earlier, and you feel yourself hugging him to keep his body next to yours even as he pulls out.

"I know" you hum, arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming"

"What of both?"

You let out a laugh.

"Jesus, Joel" but your tone is devoid of malice, adquiring that layer to it, just like his own. There's a shift in the air, and if you felt it before, now you know there's no point of return. "You sure are something else"

dts: @ann-gell; angél de mi corazón, tkm mucho, gracias por llegar a mi vida, ah.