#The other is simply personal preference on the subject

[jackalopedaily]

AHHH YES IT IS I FANGIRLING OVER MY SECOND FAVOURITE PERSON WHO IS MEDIA LITERATE AND A MILGRAM GENIUS!! So glad you understand and get all that it's great to see such speculation around here. If you haven't seen T3 yet then spoilers for that below the cut

Putting aside all the talk about how toxic the fandom's been over Amane and her verdict since you said perfectly just enough. To me, MILGRAM is a social experiment which I am a happy subject of! It is the media I consume and the theories I produce in return I get entertainment and the results of the verdicts are always interesting to me at some length anyway. They've always been fictional characters to me, I've hardly voted. But putting my morals in characters was an action I willingly did for Milgram when deciding whether I forgive or not. In the end whether or not I forgave them or thought they could change was a thought I had in that moment, if my mind changes now then there's still no use crying over spilled milk or should I say digital blood? The characters are simply a bait to catch us fish within the net of the social experiment that is Milgram. And hey I'm all for opinions but y'all gotta tone it down seriously like agree to disagree more often.

If I had to add anything on for Amane it'd be that

"What a little brat we've got! maybe that's the reason for her success."

Think what Jackalope meant by this is because she's a "brat" or rather a persistent child, she was forgiven by the masses which led to her success in killing Shidou and gaining a follower of her NEW religion...

"She's even promulgated her religious views. We could even call it, Amane-ism. This religion she's created is perfectly suited to MILGRAM. She's successfully made Fuuta a believer."

She's abandoned her cult, the one she grew up with. She's made a new one instead to suit her preferences and Fuuta follows as a believer. Amane said-

"I was wrong. The religion I believed in was incomplete, so that’s why people were breaking the rules, and going against the rules. Milgram can’t be relied on at all. If that’s the case, then it will be great if I will create one! My original religion~! Ahahaha…ahahahaha!!!"

She changed it to one where rule-breaking wouldn't be possible since that was the flaw she detected. What change did she make which would make any and all rule-breakers not go against them again? Not being able to again physically and even mentally. I think she plans on killing the others she considers as sinful though I wonder who they are. Yuno might be one of them since she helped Mahiru too but there may be others who broke her cult's rules since it's a new one and all.

So, why does her religion perfectly suit Milgram then? According to Jackalope that is. I believe it's because she's become a danger now, with so many people contradicted with themselves and their votes she's challenging us morally, big time. Well, excluding me and some others I'm sure. But still, she's a moral obstacle now carrying out a sort of vigilante justice like the function Kotoko served. Now that Kotoko's out of play, Amane was the other who became an obstacle similarly.

Mikoto and Kotoko were made to make Milgram more interesting if I remember right, to have a prisoner work similarly to Kotoko is something, surely. I do also agree that Amane isn't the only minor in Milgram, although the youngest there are others too. I'll leave it at that before I get killcheroy'd for something other than being a jackalope simp XD

For Mikoto, I've already stated all my thoughts on him in my analysis you should really check it out WHOEVER IS READING MY YAPS.

Kotoko is responsible for most of the changes in the prison. Fuuta's mental deterioration, John getting into a fight with Kotoko to protect Mikoto and Mahiru almost dying which led to her death now.

Now to the end...

...

okay I'll be honest my heart was beating out of my chest every repeat of that scene JACKALOPE MY BELOVED FOREVERRR GRAAHHHH IM SUCH A FANGIRL!!! But ahem yes yes let me settle down-

Now that you mention it, our votes do feel a bit meaningless if they are all dead or doomed to be. It's acting a sort of justification for what we've done. Milgram was destined to have it's prisoners fall apart to analyze our morals, so it's not our fault that our votes led to that since it would've happened either way just with someone else. But hey I still vibe with that. They're all doomed to die within Milgram, fated even. Are we happy with our votes, our verdicts on them before they took their last breath? Did we say and think the right things and how we could've done better for them before it was all, truly, ultimately, over. I look forward to seeing the answers. As for me I'm happy either way in whatever direction Milgram's headed. This was a wonderful experience, being a part of this. No matter the votes we get peak fiction so I ain't complaining!! HAAHAHAHAA

YOURE SO RIGHT BTW JACKALOPE IS SO COOL AND AMAZING AND AWESOME AND SIIICK AND PERFEEECCTTTT

If you do want to see a human version that way.... Heh. Let's just say.... Silly post I have made... Points at my pfp even....

I'm doing Mikoto and Amane together since Amane's thing is just a reiteration of what was said with Shidou and Mahiru,

So, let's start with Amane,

"Prisoner No. 008: Amane Momose. Your judgement was “innocent”, and as such, her ideas were affirmed. Hehehe, she truly did outdo herself, really messed with the situation. She murdered Shidou because his actions went against her beliefs. Because of the death of Shidou, she also caused the death of Mahiru. What a little brat we’ve got! Maybe that’s the reason for her success. She’s even promulgated her religious views. We could even call it, Amane-ism, this religion she’s created. It’s perfectly suited to MILGRAM. She’s successfully made Futa a believer. So, what will you do now, Es?"

I love how Jackalope states that Amane's new religion is perfectly suited for Milgram. Because sir what? It is? That makes me really curious about what her religion entails for Jackalope to make such a bold claim.

The commencement notice is also harping on how much damage Amane has caused and continuing the trend of displaying her as a threat. Jackalope keeps this same energy with Mikoto as well. Now one could say they're doing this in order to pull the rug from beneath our feet later but I doubt it.

This is the last trial through how Jackalope discussed the deaths of Haruka, Shidou, and Mahiru it seems Milgram is diving right in to how all of the audiences assumptions and shows of good faith have enabled the situation it currently finds itself is. It is tempting to double down but ultimately what the prisoners do with the lives they live are their business and we can't stop anyone in fiction or in reality from living how they wish to live.

Unless one were to stop them from living entirely. Now I'm not going to highroad anyway and say it's important to be the bigger person and live and let live. That would be disingenuous. I have no defense for Amane killing Shidou other than the fact that I don't particularly care that she did that because she told us she was going to do that and I voted with that outcome in mind.

I know shocking some people do choose how they're going to vote while taking into full consideration the consequences making that statement can have. Instead of coming up with a myriad of excuses later when it doesn't go the way they want because they just couldn't fearmonger hard enough or hold a fictional characters life over other people's heads well enough.

Sometimes and most times people should before they give their input reflect on how helpful that might be to the person they are giving the input to or themselves. Possibly reflect on if saying anything at all is the right course of action for them personally. Simply so they don't end up doing something that they can't take back and will regret.

I'm not going to do mental gymnastics to defend the murder of a fictional character who was also a murderer or excuse the deaths of those characters. I'm just gonna do what's the best thing for me personally which is vote and behave how I want to in my best interests until this ends.

Amane isn't the first person to attack someone within this prison. She won't be the last sure her attack was the only one that killed someone causing the death of another involved party in the process. Yet I'm pretty sure a lot of people don't care about the details of how the second death occurred and will take this caused Mahiru's death as Milgram stating Amane went up and stabbed Mahiru too.

See look that middle-schooler is evil and should be burned at the stake on some Backdraft shit,

Count me out I'm not dealing with that energy in 2025 if that's how some people want to spend their time behaving I hope it works out for them. I hope that brings them joy but that is not how I want to spend the last trial of Milgram. A lot of people in this fandom need to mature and recognize that they are not just a safe space for others simply because they say they are.

Also that maybe harping on the youngest person here for being a bad individual who committed murder like everyone else here then going in other cases that's a minor is odd. It's weird. That makes some people some weirdos. I'm sick of hearing about this hat girl and Mu's case where people bring age constantly but then dogpile on someone younger than both of those people. Simply because her bad actions actually impacted them.

Because they lost something from it. It doesn't matter that everyone else here has killed someone. Has also killed kids and admitted from day one. Because those victims don't exist in the eyes of the audience as people so they don't matter. Their lives don't matter because they aren't characters who entertained the audience that the audience grew attached to.

Those characters are just side characters nameless faceless unimportant dead side characters. They are just bodies to set the scene. Speaking of which let's go into Mikoto now.

Let me tell you they learned from last trial on showing more than two of these guys with how the fandom tried to spin that. Because they flipped that bitch like a coin they are not playing anymore.

They split that first one in half and turned that shit over. The front and the backside is right.

"Prisoner No. 009: Mikoto Kayano. Your judgement was “innocent”, and as such, his ideas were affirmed. Hmmm...... What a change from before, so coy! Such a disappointment! I was thinking he’d show us another rampage. It is so boring when one has to go without.... He’s like a shell of a person. He’s been found “innocent”, even after butchering all those people. Doesn’t it make him happy? I wonder why? Maybe he lost something precious?"

"Why, hey why, I’m nowhere to be found?"/ "Just the two of us, relieved, aren’t you? I’ll protect you (us)."

Mikoto Voice Line 3

Mikoto: It’s like something’s disappeared from inside me, and I’m… I’m scared. I’m tired. I just want this to stop. All of it.

"He’s like a shell of a person."

Mikoto Voice Line 1

Mikoto: Kayano Mikoto. I think. That’s who I am, right…?"

"I’m DOUBLE (MeMe)."

Mikoto Voice Line 1 continued,

Mikoto: Ahaha, you’re probably wondering what I’m talking about."

So, I'm downright loving this to be honest.

"I wonder why?"/ "Why?"

"I just want this to stop. All of it."

Fuck it let's do Kotoko too,

"Prisoner No. 010: Kotoko Yuzuriha. Your judgement was “guilty”, and as such, her ideas were rejected. There, you see? I made sure she’s carefully constrained so she wouldn’t wreck havoc. Your fangs... her vigilante justice wasn’t imparted, right? What? Are things different now? It almost makes me feel sorry for her, being at the mercy of your whims...... Obviously, she now views you as her enemy. Don’t think for a moment that you can now communicate with her effectively. "

"But, I must say, the current situation within this prison is directly influenced by the fact that she was once found “innocent”. "

"Evil done against evil, can that ever be justified......? Go on and settle the matter to your satisfaction."

In all things Jackalope remains fair I said it earlier while watching through the video still and I'm glad he hit the nail on the head. The first domino that lead to all of this was Kotoko. All from those first verdicts. It didn't hit us fully until we were almost at the end of the road but the repercussions for everything the audience has said, all its enabled, all it was able to turn a blind eye to.

It's all coming back around now.

"......hehehe. I did tell you, MILGRAM allows for sensibility, morality, ethics, legality, preference, taste, or sexual inclination as the basis for judgement. You really did act in accordance with that. That makes me so happy. And the result is this. Take a look at the prison. What do you think, Es? Do you think you’ve been able to carry out your standards within this prison?"

"Can you really say that you were able to find “innocent” the ones you truly wanted to forgive, and find “guilty” the ones you truly wanted to punish? What? It’s not something to shy away from. Take pride! This is your prison, those feelings that you carry and all."

This prison will happen just once, and it was chosen by you all. If it wasn’t for all of you, the results would have been different, I’m sure. Well now, is it not just beautiful, Es?"

Jackalope and Milgram once again showcasing if the audience and Es did not engage the situation would have been different.

"I am just enthralled by this prison that you all have created. Teeheehee...... hehehe...... Let us now enjoy MILGRAM until it’s finale together, shall we?"

I would be remiss to not point out this looks similar to the light we see in Double at 1:48,

To touch on Jackalope's question real quick,

"Can you really say that you were able to find “innocent” the ones you truly wanted to forgive, and find “guilty” the ones you truly wanted to punish?"

I can't say for certain if there was one right answer for any of the prisoners. However I can say through everything in Milgram I made the decisions I believed in wholeheartedly. Regardless of if they lead to the outcome I wanted or not is irrelevant. I am happy to have been able to have enjoyed and been involved with this once in a lifetime media experience.

I don't know how it will resolve of course and I have been let down in some regards but would I say I regret being involved with it at all at this point? No. I will continue to enjoy the prisoners being the most of themselves until Milgram draws to a close those that are still here now and those that are no longer here.

But I didn't like the subtle implication that the prisoners were dead or going to die before this occurred. Mostly because why even have us vote on any of this at this point. Furthering that implication just makes it feel like a non-issue. I'm also just not particularly interested in stories with that sort of twist. When stories have done things like they were dead from the start or not real twists I just feel like it's taken away the weight of certain points retroactively.

Since from the beginning we were told to vote as though we were choosing whether to let them back into society or not I always liked that framing more. That sort of plot point would really make me go so the deaths in Milgram don't matter and should not impact the decisions on the prisoners still here because they're all dead anyhow so what's the point on harping how they died a second time.

You get what I mean. If it is that I'll be disappointed like with Mahiru but if it is that then no one can really hold anyone dying within Milgram over anybody else's head because they were all dead when they got here at that point. So, what does it matter?

There's a time in the commencement notice when Jackalope is speaking of Mahiru that implies this,

"Well now, don’t get down on yourself. As I’ve said many times, they are all already goners. It’s not a huge point of concern whether they live here or not."

Along with this imagery as well,

Though it doesn't have to mean that it did make my ears perk up. Because there's two ways this go they could all be dead which would be boring for me. Or like the ending implies they are all about to die regardless. Because the ending of the commencement notice shuffles through scenes from milgram with all the characters taken out of them.

So maybe regardless of the last trial verdicts the prisoners are still slated to be executed which would explain why Jackalope is being so flippant about the deaths. As well as why there was no new point added onto this trial. He didn't say if you vote them guilty they're gonna die and if you vote them innocent we'll spare them. No talk on how it would impact things after this just said well let's enjoy it before it's all,

Over,

"Let us now enjoy MILGRAM until it’s finale together, shall we?"

[Route: Your (Curtain) Call]

For all of them.

"They are all already goners."

Side note this thumbnail was sick as hell he looks so mad~ But he's so thrilled in the video.

[steampunk-llama]

Genuinely begging people to understand that sex favourability =/= sex positivity, and that sex repulsion =/= sex negativity

Also if we could please leave behind the mindset that asexuality (specifically repulsed aces) = Puritanism in 2024 that'd be wonderful thanks <3

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know why but he feels this weird jealousy everytime he sees you meet your friends and greet them all with a big hug. you never did that with him. you relationship was still fairly new to the both of you, but you kissed you fucked you even held hands sometimes when walking around. but, what toji was now realizing, was that he wanted a hug. well, he wanted a hug from You. not a casual little hug, a hug. holding each other. he didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding needy and like the complete opposite of how he usually acts. he had never cared about this kinda stuff with other people, he’d never experienced it growing up and he thought he could live without it. until you. until you showed him that wanting to be held was normal. he’d been thinking about it for a while until one night, as the two of you got ready for bed it simply slipped out.

‘how come you don’t hug me?’

immediately you stopped plaiting your hair and turned to him with a shocked look.

‘what?’

‘how come you don’t hug me? like when you see your friends or you say bye you hug them. you don’t hug me.’

as soon as he said it he felt stupid. a grown man like him, older than you and he was sat here asking for a fucking hug. what if you turned the question around and said ‘well you don’t hug me’ what would he say? that i’ve never done that before sorry i don’t know how? his thoughts came to a stop when he felt a small hand grab his own larger one.

‘i- toji im so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t think that was something you wanted.’

fuck now he’s made you feel bad.

‘nah doll you don’t have to say sorry, its nothing let’s just go to bed’

‘no toji please. let’s talk about it.’

you lifted the blanket and made your way over to his side of the bed so you could sit face to face. everything about you was so soft, so kind. such a complete contrast to himself. he was panicking, he didn’t do stuff like this, never talked about stuff like this.

‘honestly toji, i really just thought you weren’t a touchy person. i’m sorry for just assuming especially considering everything you’ve been through,’

‘no please doll. i wasn’t trying to blame you for anything. i just’

his palms were actually sweating, but your face. god your darling sweet face, looking at him like he hung up the stars in sky. like every word out of his mouth meant the world to you. you would wait for him to get the words out no matter how long he took.

‘i don’t know to be honest. you’re right i’m not a touchy person i’ve never really hugged anyone. but i want that. with you. and im sorry, i should be the one to initiate it i just didn’t really know how doll.’ his voice was so quiet, just a rough whisper.

he looked up to stare into your glassy eyes when you leaned in and kissed him. a small whisper of a kiss.

‘can i hug you?’ you said with your lips pressed against his.

he knew you knew he would prefer not to dwell on it.

and then he wrapped his arms around your back so tightly like he was showing the universe just how bad he needed you. he pulled you into his lap and let his cheek fall to your shoulder. he felt your arms wrap around his neck and you fingers stroking the hairs at his nape.

neither of you spoke, you simply sat and held each other and made a silent promise to maintain the closeness from today onwards.

‘thank you for telling me toji. you big baby.’

‘yeah that’s enough. time for bed.’

your giggle was music to his ears.

[leneires]

popular athlete kuna & shy reader hcs !! ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა

⤿ based on mirrored souls !

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 Sukuna! who’s entire mood is cold to any people bothering to talk to him , not unless it’s one of his teammates conversing & teasing him nonstop then expect that his jokes are often brutal in return. He’s never been the type to care how heavily blunt his use of words can be considering it’s simply just Choso , Toji , Gojo , Suguru , Nanami , bantering with him nowadays. He’s had his fair share of admirers in the past although believe it or not , Sukuna’s never been one to be fond of dating , let alone handle a serious relationship. Flings worked the best for him in general , nothing serious & committed , just merely makeout sessions. Yet when he encounters her prior to a seating arrangement made by the teacher , his curiosity suddenly sparks.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 Sukuna! whose tone is usually loud , firm , around class goes lower , slower , & perhaps softer when he tries hearing the questions she’s asking in relation to whatever lecture is being discussed. He’s quite smart in the subject so he has no need to listen , calculations were light work to him. Her on the other hand is a slow learner , an observation that he’s picked on. Though Sukuna can tell that she’s nervous , constantly mumbling apologies for asking such questions. He simply brushes it off & eventually decides he might as well teach her. Very unlikely of him to do so with a seatmate , later on Uraume points it out but Sukuna is quick to shut them out & tell them it was only basic decency.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 Sukuna! whose reputation is a big warning to the school grounds. Rumors say he’s slept with many but it’s mostly false news , some say he’s given one of his opponents a fracture which is likely more true. He’s out of her league , she’s aware of this. Someone reserved & quiet can’t get along with someone like him , Sukuna who’s always stood out to the crowd & has a large group of friends , connections from one person to another wouldn't bat an eye at a girl like her. But his actions are the opposite of her doubts.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 Sukuna! who overtime grows fond of her. He’s not only teaching her in the weakest subjects she struggles at , he’s now making the effort of doing small talk with her. He could be talking about how his team lost a game or either won a game out of sheer luck , just an excuse for him to hear her faint smiles or giggles. Sukuna doesn’t know why he loves witnessing a reaction out of her. He likes to view it as a privilege to see this side of her instead of her usual reserved demeanor.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 Sukuna! who unknowingly develops a soft spot for her. The way she cracks her knuckles a lot when she’s too overwhelmed at a presentation , the way she plays with her necklace when something is clearly wrong. The way she bites on her lip , bounces her legs , when too much attention is focused on her. He doesn’t know what would ease her anxiety & Sukuna loathes it so he does something that leaves his friends , the whole class jaw dropped. He grants her the permission to play with the silver rings on his fingers , squeeze his forearm , hands , anything to soothe that head of hers even though he despises being touched.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 Sukuna! who’d willingly agree to anything she asks for & changes his preference on silly trivial things in order to match hers. She loves chocolate ice cream ? well he does too even though in truth , anything sweet related to treats makes him gag in disgust. She loves the color purple ? he buys himself a purple accessory . Eventually they’d both end up having accidental coordinating fits towards their clothing. Sukuna doesn’t complain though.

[lxvebun]

Highschool au brainrot with sukuna. Please hear me out-

╰┈ Not completely proofread. Sukuna x gender neutral reader<3 fluff! Let me know if you guys prefer small or big text for brainrots like this♡

꒰ა High school jock Sukuna! who had been failing his tests and was now facing the very real threat of being benched if he didn’t bring his grades up. His usual cocky grin faltering slightly as he carried himself around school with a nervous scowl.

The name Ryomen Sukuna stared back at you from the slip of paper the teacher handed to you, their eyes filled with a sense of pity, knowing Sukuna was not the easiest to get along with. The note simply read: “Please, tutor him for the upcoming tests.”

High school jock Sukuna! who was absolutely terrifying to approach. He towered over most, his sheer size enough to make anyone think twice before stepping into his space. With a permanent furrow in his eyebrows, making it look like he was always on the edge of starting a fight, and a sharp voice with an even sharper tongue. Intimidating already, he became even more so around his team—loud, confident, untouchable. Not wanting to deal with that many eyes on you, you decided to wait until after practice, when the hallways had fallen silent, and you wouldn't have the weight of other people’s eyes on you… just his.

High school jock Sukuna! who had lit up in a way you hadn’t been expecting when you explained that your teachers had assigned him to you for tutoring. The edge of confusion in his eyes cleared almost instantly, replaced by something more like relief. He was quick to exchange numbers with you, even quicker to ask if you had time that Friday after practice.

High school jock Sukuna! with whom you surprisingly found yourself in the midst of a blossoming friendship. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, with his jagged personality, sharp tongue, and lack of patience for anything he didn’t find interesting. But when it was just the two of you, tucked into a corner of the library, it was almost like he softened a little. He listened carefully when you explained things to him, followed your instructions on homework, albeit begrudgingly, doodled on the corner of your notebooks, overhauled his backpack to share his snacks, and what you thought would be a nerve-wracking few hours every week turned into something you actually looked forward to.

High school jock Sukuna! who’s crushing so incredibly hard on you, but you’re completely oblivious to it. Perceiving it more as him just being friendly. </3

And really, it’s so painfully obvious he likes you—he doesn’t even bother hiding the way he stares when you’re explaining something, and there’s a certain warmth in his gaze that makes your heart flutter, but you brush it off. </3

(Really, it's a miracle his pupils haven’t turned into little heart shapes yet.)

He’s just glad he’s keeping his grades up with your help so he can continue to play in his games. You convince yourself as he flashes a fanged smile and shoots you a wink as you pass each other in the hallways.

Sukuna just doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of having another tutor assigned to him. He doesn’t want to go through the exhausting process of explaining what he finds difficult in his subjects over and over again to a stranger. Your mind rationalizes as he offers to carry your bag, not giving you any time to respond before he slung the heavy thing over his shoulder with a casual grin. His arm now wrapped around your shoulder. The warmth of his touch lingering as you both walked to the library for your usual study session

It’s just Sukuna trying his best to be friendly and convince you to stay and tutor him. That’s all it is. You're sure! But then… that doesn’t explain why his team jersey, with the bold, bright lettering spelling out his name, is currently neatly folded up in your locker, adorned with a messy little note in familiar handwriting that reads:

“Wear this for me at the game?” ♡

Your fingers hover over the fabric, the weight of it suddenly feeling a lot heavier than it should...໒꒱ ⠀

[angelremnants]

Stuck With You | S. Wilson

summary : The last thing you wanted was to be trapped in a room with a person you didn't know, much less be forced to team up with them. But thanks to your best friend's meddling, you now find yourself headed for a peculiar blind date, paired with someone who’s anything but a stranger. You swore you’d moved on. He said it was for the best. But maybe you were never meant to let each other go.

pairing : Sam Wilson x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), second chance romance, friends to lovers to kind of enemies to lovers?, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, forced proximity, angry/heated makeout, heavy feels and yearning, fluff and humor, truthfully two idiots in love, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 14.2k

author's notes : To celebrate the rise of our brand new Captain America and Valentine's Day, I wrote this little piece to pour out my appreciation for Sam Wilson who is, imo, an insanely underrated character.

This is also my entry for the wondrous @elixirfromthestars 's Cinema Writing Challenge, which I stumbled upon mid-writing this one-shot and found that I was going in a direction that could've fit this in a fun way. I referenced the "Why didn't you write me?" scene from The Notebook though in a lax manner, so I hope to have still respected the general guidelines.. This is my first time participating in a writing challenge, so please bear with me :')

Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Know that even if you're as alone as I am, your existence is greatly valued in this world. <3

(ao3 version)

⠀

Driving back to Delacroix was nothing short of a pleasant experience—just you, one hand on the wheel and the other idly hanging out the window with fingers slicing through the warm morning air. It was one of the few times you enjoyed driving, which is why you insisted on not having your chauffeur be the one to take you to your destination, preferring the solitude of watching the road stretch ahead like a ribbon of sun-bleached asphalt, flanked by swaying marsh grass and the slow-moving waters of the bayou. The old jazz station buzzing over the speakers only further enhanced the atmosphere, with the crooning trumpet blending effortlessly into the continuous murmur of cicadas in the background.

It was early enough that the mist still clung to the marshes, curling around the gnarled roots of cypress trees like ghostly fingers. The world shimmered gold in the pale dawn light, an untouched moment as the weight of the day settled in. You could also make out in your passing spanish moss draping lazily from the branches, swaying ever so slightly as if still waking from its slumber. 

You had always loved this route. It felt like a portal to another life, one that belonged solely to a place where your name wasn’t headlined in articles, where your every move wasn’t scrutinized by strangers looking for something to pick apart. Here, you weren’t the subject of speculation or the topic of gossip columns. You weren’t “the one from the titles” or “the name in the papers.” You were simply you.

The familiarity of it all only served to bring you back to those late-night drives after absurdly long college lectures, when the stress of exams and deadlines melted away over seafood and pleasant company, the briny scent of the ocean mixing with the fried goodness of whatever had been thrown together for dinner. It reminded you of sunburned afternoons spent on the docks, the sound of waves lapping against the wooden beams, of kids that you used to babysit laughing as they chased each other barefoot across the pier. Life was indeed much nicer in the olden days.

The docks finally came into view as you veered off onto the dirt road. You could see that the morning had already settled into its rhythm—fishermen hauling in their first catches, their voices rising and falling over the water while the low rumble of boat engines punctuated the exchanges in the salty air, mingling with the occasional bark of a stray dog nosing around for scraps. Seagulls routinely circled overhead and swept low whenever someone tossed a handful of bait into the sea. The scent of fresh fish, damp wood, and the ever-present Louisiana humidity all wrapped around you, strong-filled even at this hour.

And there was poor Sarah, up to her elbows in work as always.

She stood near a stubborn crate, her brows drawn together in frustration as she struggled to pry it open. The morning suns of July had already kissed her skin a shade darker and a streak of dirt ran across her forearms, evidence of a morning repeatedly spent wrangling supplies and fixing whatever had inevitably needed mending. She also had that look—the one she always got when something should have been done yesterday.

Pulling up alongside the dock, you stepped out of your fancy car, rolling your shoulders with a slow stretch. The thick and stifling heat settled around you instantly, encasing itself around your skin like a second layer along the faintest promise of an approaching summer storm.

“Didn’t know we were wrestling furniture today,” you called out while your expensive shoes thudded lightly against the weathered planks, the wood creaking ever so slightly beneath your steps.

Sarah huffed, blowing a loose curl from her forehead as the sheen of morning sweat glistened against her sun-warmed skin. “You show up just in time to save the day, as usual.”

You smirked, pushing up your sleeves. “That’s what I do best.”

Together, you pried open the crate with a loud crack, the wood groaning in protest before finally relenting, revealing neatly packed supplies of nets, ropes and a few spare tools, all stacked with military precision. 

“I swear, whoever sealed this thing had a personal vendetta against me,” she muttered, shaking her head.

You leaned against one of the weathered wooden posts, letting the briny breeze roll over you. The dock swayed ever so slightly beneath your weight, creaking in quiet protest. Out beyond the harbor, the bay stretched wide and glittering, rippling with the soft push and pull of the current. For a moment, there was nothing but the steady lull of the water, the occasional cry of seagulls, and the distant clang of metal against wood as fishermen worked their boats. A rare pocket of peace.

At least, that was the case until Sarah spoke.

“Sam’s coming home today.”

The words landed on you like how a stone would sink to the bottom of a river. 

You kept your expression carefully neutral, inhaling through your nose before exhaling slowly. “Fantastic,” you deadpanned, flicking a piece of splintered wood off your palm.

Sarah sighed, already bracing for the reaction she knew was coming. “I know you two don’t—”

“Like each other?” you finished for her. “Get along? Want to exist in the same hemisphere?”

She shot you a flat, unimpressed look. “I was going to say see eye to eye.”

You scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

Sarah crossed her arms, leaning back against the wooden beam beside you. The steady rise and fall of the tide lapped at the pylons below, filling the brief silence between you. “Are you ever going to tell me what really happened between you two?”

You hesitated. The problem wasn’t just Sam. It was everything that had happened because of him.

And worse—the things that had happened before. But how could you explain that to your best friend, who was also his sister, that before the cameras, before all of the unwanted attention, there had been a spark?

Befriending Sarah in college had meant stepping into her world, with frequent afternoons spent at the family’s restaurant but also evenings that bled into weekends. And with this eventually came Sam, who was at the time a cheeky guy too charming for his own good and with a tendency of getting under your skin in the most enjoyable way. The kind that your mama told you not to approach too much if you didn’t want to stray away from a good line of life.

You honestly wouldn’t have paid him much attention if not for the quick-witted banter, a push-and-pull that became something of a ritual every time you would come over. He would saunter into the restaurant under the pretense of bothering his sister, but his eyes would eventually find yours first, the corner of his mouth twitching upward just before he threw out some teasing remarks in hopes of riling you up. You would roll your eyes, fire something back, and somehow, without realizing it, you had begun to orbit each other.

It had slowly bloomed in the way where summer warmth shifts into the first breath of autumn—almost imperceptible until you’re standing in the midst of it. Eye contacts that lingered just a little too long. Making even the most absurd excuses simply to accompany you through your journey of going to college. A growing familiarity that turned into late-night conversations on the dock, where the world was nothing but the hush between you. There had been something easy about it, an understanding that neither of you ever had to say out loud.

And then, one fateful night—

A kiss was added to the list.

You could still precisely recall how it had unfolded. It had been one of those thick Louisianan nights where the land was quiet except for the gentle slosh of the tide against the pylons and the occasional chirp of cicadas hidden somewhere in the dark. You and Sam sat side by side on the wooden planks with your legs dangling over the edge.

He had shown up at the restaurant after closing, claiming he had nowhere better to be. You had scoffed, knowing damn well he could’ve gone to the arcades where he usually hung with his small band of friends, but instead, he’d lingered—elbow on the counter, tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Sarah cleaned up. When she suspiciously shooed the both of you out under the pretense of wanting to finish tidying the place in peace, you both ended up in your favorite spot and falling into conversation with the same ease you always had.

Strangely enough, that night was different.

It was felt in the way your knees brushed when he shifted closer, in the way your laughter had simmered and turned quieter, softer. It was the night where plans for the future were spoken of, and how you learned that Sam would soon leave Delacroix behind to join the Air Force while you were still figuring everything out.

“You ever think about getting out of here?” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet.

You smirked, tilting your head toward him. “What, and give up all the fine dining of your family’s home cooking? I don’t know if I could handle that.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, because there’s nothing more to do than eating fresh seafood and watching the sunset every day.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you’re the one talking about getting out of here, Wilson. What, the dock life not glamorous enough for you?”

His grin was easy, but there was something contemplative beneath it. “I always knew I’d leave. Not ‘cause I don’t love it here, but... I want more. I wanna see what else is out there.”

Your smile faltered, just a little. You weren’t sure why the thought of Sam leaving sat uncomfortably in your chest. "You make it sound like you’re never coming back."

He turned toward you then, one leg kicking idly at the water below. "I’ll come back." His voice got fainter this time, lacking its usual teasing edge. "It’s not like I’d just disappear on you."

You arched a skeptical brow. "Awh, don’t tell me you’re going soft on me. You saying that ‘cause you mean it, or ‘cause you think I’d cry if you didn’t?"

Sam smirked. "Maybe both."

You scoffed, pushing at his arm, but he barely budged. "Please, you’d be the one crying your eyes out first."

"Uh-huh," he vaguely affirmed, unconvinced. "You could write me letters, you know."

"You gonna write back?"

"Every time."

You regained your smile at the answer, and it was when you turned to glance at him that you noticed that he was closer than before. You weren’t sure if he had leaned in or if you had, but your shoulders touched and your knees pressed together. He was close enough that you could see the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed and caught his eyes flickering from yours to your mouth and back again.

You had felt it coming before it happened—the moment slowed, stretched, and his tentative fingers had brushed yours where your hands rested between you on the dock. He was testing out the waters, and neither of you pulled away.

Without a word, he leaned in.

It felt like a kiss engaged between adolescents discovering intimacy for the first time. He was slow in his doing, as if waiting for you to stop him, but you didn’t. You tilted into him instead, your hand resting against his jaw upon the faint scratch of stubble he had grown. His lips were warm and coaxing, stealing the breath from your lungs as he deepened the kiss while his hand curled lightly around your wrist. The world beyond the two of you fell away, drowned out by the rush of your pulse.

It was the kind of kiss that felt like the beginning of a promise. But promises, as you had learned over time, were far too easy to break.

You thought that this kiss was supposed to mean something. Evidently, it didn’t to Sam.

Months passed without a sign, not a single mail in your box or a phone call. Then years came by, and silence continued to reign like a chasm.

The first time Sam Wilson came back to Delacroix after becoming the Falcon, it wasn’t for a homecoming or a celebration—it was for Sarah’s wedding. By then, he was no longer just the annoying little brother, the immature sod who used to throw shrimp shells at you when you weren’t looking. He was an Avenger. A hero. Someone whose face people recognized, whose name carried weight.

And you? You had built a life of your own. A business. A name that had nothing to do with anyone else but yourself. 

He had changed but so had you, and whatever had been between you had withered away a bittersweet memory, more sour than sugary.

The wedding had come and gone in a whirlwind of music and laughter, of his sister glowing in a way you had never seen before, of toasts and dancing under strings of warm lights. You had somehow ended up outside, trading the muffled sounds of celebration drifting through the open doors of the reception hall for the cold silence of the outside.

You hadn’t planned to talk to him. In fact, you had spent most of the days of his visit avoiding being alone with him, dodging him and whatever it was that lingered between you both like an unfinished chapter. But he still managed to find you anyway, stepping out into the night with that same infuriating ease as if nothing had ever changed.

“Did anybody ever tell you that you scurry away like a mouse?” he jokingly prompted, hands tucked into his pockets. “For someone who’s supposed to be the maid of honor, you disappeared pretty fast.”

You didn’t look at him, instead fixing your gaze on the rippling water. “Didn’t realize I needed a chaperone.”

“Never said you did.”

Stillness settled between you, cut by the cicadas humming in the trees and the warm breeze rolling in from the bay. He was watching you. You could feel it.

“You been good?” he asked eventually, almost hesitant.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Business still going strong?”

Another nod.

Sam exhaled a soft laugh. “Damn. You always this talkative?”

Finally, you turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Well, what do you want me to say, Sam? That it’s good to see you? That I missed you?”

He blinked, caught off guard.

“You know what? I did,” you admitted, your jaw tightening. “I missed you when you left, when you didn’t write, when you didn’t call. But then you show up years later on TV with wings on your back and a whole new life, and I—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “Forget it.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “Listen, I never meant to—”

The sudden burst of camera flashes cut through the dark like lightning. Movements danced from the shadows beyond the dock. Figures. A handful of people, cameras raised, lenses trained on you both.

Your blood ran cold.

The pilot turned, his expression shifting in an instant. He stepped in front of you, partially blocking their view. “Hey! Back the hell up.”

The damage was already done. Your name was already in their mouths, in their cameras, and in their notes. And by morning, the world would be talking.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. Not entirely. The blame didn’t belong to him—not for the cameras, the prying eyes, or the intrusion. But the continuous letdown, the unresolved past, the hollow promises left unanswered—it all boiled over.

Maybe it was the years of unspoken resentment. How he had left and never looked back, only to come home like no time had passed—like you hadn’t once meant something. Or maybe it was the fact that for one fleeting instance, the world thought you belonged to him like you selfishly wanted to back then when he had never even fought to keep you.

The fight was inevitable. Hurtful words, raised voices. Raw anger tangled with accusations you didn’t mean spilling from your mouth before you could stop it, among the ones you did. And to his credit, he gave as good as he got. You weren’t the only one harboring old wounds. You weren’t the only one who felt burned by your shared past.

By the time the shouting stopped, the damage between you was just as permanent as the damage done by the eye-catching headlines. Some words couldn’t be taken back, just as ties, once broken, could never be pieced together the same way again.

The next morning, as you predicted, the internet had been set ablaze with speculation.

The press was relentless, churning through the story like a wildfire swallowing dry earth. The Falcon and his Mystery Woman—Who is She? New Romance or Old Flame? Falcon’s Secret Love Life—Exclusive Details Inside!

It was absurd. Laughable, even. You had snorted at the first few articles, rolling your eyes at the grainy photos that painted a story far more dramatic than the truth. You and Sam barely tolerated each other. If anything, your history was a testament to mutual irritation, not some clandestine love affair.

But the laughter didn’t last because the headlines didn’t fade. Because the story didn’t die.

Because soon enough, it wasn’t just some passing tabloid gossip. It was everywhere.

Paparazzi began to linger outside your workplace, their lenses snapping up every movement as if they could capture something scandalous in the mundane act of you stepping out for coffee. Your inbox flooded with emails—some from reporters fishing for a statement, others from people you hadn’t spoken to in years, suddenly eager to "reconnect." 

Social media became a nightmare all on its own. Strangers dug through your past with eager, prying hands, dissecting old photos, analyzing every public interaction you’d ever had, and spinning theories about a relationship that had never even existed.

The worst part of your predicament was certainly work-related. Every handshake, every business meeting, and every new acquaintance suddenly all came with a question mark. Were they here for you or for the association? Were they interested in your work, in you, or just in the proximity you offered to something greater, to a man whose name counted amongst Earth’s greatest heroes?

And through it all, Sam had remained frustratingly unbothered.

"It’ll pass," he had dismissed with a shrug accompanying his words. "People move on when it comes to these kinds of things."

At most, he made sure you were surrounded by constant security and had some sort of secret service he was apart from watching over you in case malevolent spectators deemed it a good idea to bother you. While you were grateful for the protection, you had wondered if his lack of intervention to correct the situation with both words and actions wasn’t motivated by underlying factors. 

Ultimately, you had been the one left dealing with the aftermath. The one picking up the pieces and untangling the mess, sifting through the wreckage of your privacy. And that was something you could never forgive.

You slowly exhaled, massaging your temple at the exasperating memory. “Let’s just say your brother has had a knack for making my life difficult and I got tired of it.”

Sarah hummed, skeptical but wise enough not to press too hard. “He’s really not as bad as you think.”

You shot her a dry look. “Sarah.”

She held up her hands in surrender, lips twitching. “Alright, alright. I won’t push.”

Before you could say more, the sound of a door swinging open interrupted you. Then came the hurried patter of feet and the excited shout of your name before two small bodies crashed into you, all limbs and boundless energy.

You caught them both with a grin, stumbling slightly under their weight as they clung to you.

“You taking us to school today?” Cass asked, beaming up at you.

You ruffled his curls, feigning deep thought. “I don’t know... you guys gonna behave?”

AJ gasped, scandalized. “We always behave!”

Their mother snorted at the blatant lie while you laughed, nudging AJ’s shoulder. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Sarah shook her head, a familiar mix of amusement and exasperation on her face. “They listen to you better than they listen to me.”

“That’s because I’m the cool auntie. Right, boys?” 

Both of them cheered in agreement, to which she rolled her eyes and shooed you toward your car. “Go before I change my mind about letting you take them.”

You steered her children toward the vehicle, their voices rising in an animated debate over which of them would get to call shotgun and put their playlist to play for the drive. But even as you settled into the driver’s seat, their excited chatter filling the space around you, your mind remained elsewhere.

Sam was coming back.

And whether you liked it or not, you were going to have to deal with him.

⠀

⠀

The restaurant was already alive with the late afternoon rush by the time you strolled in with the boys coming back from school. Orders flew in, plates stacked high and the scent of fried seafood and rich gumbo diffused in the place. The kitchen bustled with movement—Sarah barking orders, cooks shuffling between stations, the sizzle of oil, the clang of metal on metal. Fortunately, you had worked enough shifts here during college to comfortably throw yourself into the chaos and fall into the rhythm with ease, balancing trays and dodging wayward elbows like second nature.

You had expected a busy night.

What you weren’t prepared for—what you could have gone your entire life without dealing with—was walking out of the kitchen, only to come face-to-face with the one person you had been dreading.

The door swung shut behind you, the sudden quiet of the dining area making the moment feel even heavier. Sam Wilson stood near the counter, arms crossed, an easy smirk already in place as if he hadn’t just been gone for years. The sight of his tall, broad and annoyingly self-assured stature made something stubborn coil in your chest. The golden glow of the setting sun slanted through the restaurant’s windows, catching on the sharp lines of his jaw and the slight curl of his lips, settling into the warm brown of his eyes with an infuriating sort of ease.

It had been years. But of course, of course, the first thing he did when he saw you was smirk and look at you the way he always did—like he was expecting a fight.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes flicking over you with the kind of scrutiny that made you itch to throw the nearest dish towel at his head. “They’re really letting just anyone work here now, huh?”

You scoffed, stepping behind the counter. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

“Hey, I actually own part of this place,” he shot back, leaning against the wooden bar. “What’s your excuse?”

“Sarah asked me to help,” you replied smoothly, grabbing a clean set of glasses from the shelf. “What’s yours?”

“Thought I’d check in, be a good brother and say hi,” he sassily answered. “Didn’t realize I’d be graced with your presence too.”

“Lucky you,” you deadpanned with a tight-lipped smile, brushing past him.

And to your luck, he followed you to the back, offering unhelpful commentary while you restocked supplies, then bickered with you while you both helped—or at least attempted to—his sister with the dinner rush. Arguing over everything with the soldier felt like muscle memory at this point, and it showed in the way he reached for the same things you did, your movements accidentally falling into sync. 

By the time things slowed down enough for dinner, you were already nursing a headache. It wasn’t until the pace had slowed and Sarah finally sat down with a plate of food after her kids were put to bed that the conversation turned against you.

“So,” Sarah stabbed a piece of calamari with her fork, looking at you with a glint of something announcing nothing good. “You seeing anyone yet?”

You nearly choked on your drink. Across from you, Sam let out a low chuckle.

“Oh, this should be good,” he mused, propping his chin on his hand and settling in like he was about to watch a show.

You shot him a glare before turning back to Sarah. “Not really.”

“Not really, or not at all?”

“Not. At. All.”

Sam let out a whistle, shaking his head in mock pity. “Damn. That’s rough.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass. “Well, it’s kind of your fault.”

The smirk fell right off his face. “My fault?”

You didn’t waver, locking eyes with him. “I don’t know if you remember, but you kind of put me on the map. You know, with that whole ‘mystery woman spotted with the Falcon’ thing?” You waved a hand vaguely. “Hard to trust people when they might secretly be fans. Or worse, spies.”

The hostess hummed in interest, taking a slow sip of her drink. “That does sound inconvenient.”

Sam scoffed. "Oh, be real, miss fancy pants. You can’t be serious.”

“But I am,” you shot back. “Because of you, I have to second-guess every new person I meet. Even for business.”

Sam shrugged, looking way too entertained. “Could be worse.”

You raised a brow. “Would you trust random people throwing themselves at you if the roles were reversed?”

He let out a sharp laugh, cocky and dismissive. “Sure, after a small background check.”

You leaned forward, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, totally. It’s so much fun when I get approached because people think I’m some tragic ex or long-lost lover of yours. Or getting bombarded with people asking if I ever hooked up with the Falcon, or if I have ‘tea’ to spill on our ‘relationship’, or if I’m ‘jealous’ that you’re off saving the world and not wasting time.” You tilted your head. “That’s just peak entertainment.”

For once, the Avenger had nothing to say.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, and let’s not forget the weirdos who DM me saying they’d be happy to ‘fill the hole’ you supposedly left in my life.”

Sam choked on his drink, coughing violently. “What?”

“Oh yeah.” You pulled out your phone, tapped a few times, then held it out to him. “Here. Go ahead. Take a look at your legacy.”

He grabbed it hesitantly, scrolling through your inbox, his expression shifting from amused to horrified. “Oh, hell no,” he muttered. “What the hell is wrong with people?”

Sarah smirked. “Damn, Sam. Ruined her dating life and left her with internet weirdos. That’s cold.”

Sam dragged a hand down his face. “Okay, fine, that’s bad.” He handed your phone back. “But still, you could’ve just—I don’t know—ignored it? De-activate your socials?”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just ignore the fact that I have to Google every guy I talk to just to make sure they’re not running a secret fan account for you.”

He burst out laughing, to which you childishly responded by throwing a fry at his head.

Sarah, watching all this like it was prime-time TV, suddenly perked up. “I might have a solution.”

You groaned. “I don’t like that tone.”

“No, no, hear me out,” she insisted, grinning. “I saw this thing the other day—apparently, there’s a place in town that does blind dates in escape rooms.”

You blinked. “You saw what now?”

“It’s a fun concept,” she continued breezily. “Two people, locked in a room, working together to get out. You don’t know who you’re paired with beforehand, and it forces you to communicate.” She took another bite of her food, then added, “I think you two should try it.”

You both turned to her at the same time. “No—” “Hell no.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You two are so dramatic. It’s literally an escape room—”

“With a blind date,” you interrupted with frantic gestures. “As in, being forced into a confined space with a random stranger and trusting them enough to help me get out.” You shook your head. “Not happening.”

Sarah gave you a pointed look. “You do realize that’s exactly what dating is, right?”

You glared. “Don’t make points right now.”

She turned her attention to Sam, who was still muttering under his breath. “And what’s your problem?”

Her brother shot her a disbelieving look. “You seriously don’t see the issue?”

“Nope.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s way too risky for me to go in public and have my info given out to some company and get paired up with someone potentially crazy like her right here. Yeah, no way in hell I’m signing up for that.”

You turned back to Sarah. “Do you hear the way he talks to me? And you think I should be dating?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why I’m setting you up with other people. You both need a reality check.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Okay, ignoring the audacity of that statement—why an escape room? If I wanted to be locked in a room with a stranger, I’d call my internet provider.”

Sarah once again ignored your rebuttals. “It forces you to work together. Communication, problem-solving, a little trust—”

Sam let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather skydive without a parachute.”

“You literally have a parachute,” you deadpanned.

“Exactly,” Sam said. “Which is why I don’t need to go on some experimental dating hostage situation.”

Sarah huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. Let me put it this way—if you don’t go, I’ll tell Bucky you’re both too scared to put yourselves out there.”

You wanted to put up a bigger fight, if not for the very real threat of James Buchanan Barnes getting wind of this.

You had met him once, years ago, during one of Sam’s very unwelcome, very impromptu visits. You hadn’t even been expecting company that day, let alone a literal ex-assassin sitting at Sarah’s dining table like it was the most normal thing in the world. And to make matters worse, Sam had introduced you in the most obnoxious way possible.

“This is my sister’s best friend. She talks a big game but couldn’t win an argument if her life depended on it.”

And Bucky, with all the smugness of someone who absolutely enjoyed making your life difficult, had just smirked, leaned back in his chair, and smugly commented—

“Huh. Sounds familiar.”

You hadn’t even known him for five minutes, and he had already sided with Sam. Ever since, the latter had made sure to weaponize their friendship against you at every opportunity, regardless of the fast-growing amicability between his former partner and you.

And you knew that if Bucky found out about this, you would never hear the end of it. He’d be relentless. Casually dropping mentions of your lack of a partner into every conversation, even if the irony lied in him being in the same situation—though he’d probably argue that unlike him, there was a lack of trying on your part as well as the absence of an excuse as astronomical as being a well-known mass murderer with an insane past. And also probably betting money on how fast you’d walk out of the damn escape room.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

His sister’s grin only widened. “Oh, I absolutely would.”

You could already picture it—Bucky, smirking like he had all the dirt in the world on you and bringing it up at the most inopportune moments. Teasing you mercilessly every time you so much as glanced at your phone. Probably making some dumb comment like, “So, can’t find anyone to put up with you?”

Nope. Absolutely not.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing your temples. “I so hate you right now.”

Sarah just smiled. “So that’s a yes?”

The Falcon groaned in desperation. “This is blackmail.”

She simply shrugged at the accusation. “I like to think of it as strong encouragement.”

"How long is it?” you finally asked, defeated.

“One hour.”

Sam groaned, tipping his head back. “Sixty minutes of my life I’m never getting back.”

The restaurant’s owner shrugged, too pleased with herself to care. “Think of it this way—worst-case scenario, you get out and never see the person again.”

The pilot grumbled under his breath before sharply exhaling after a long pause. “Whatever. But when this goes horribly, I want it on record that I called it.”

“Duly noted.”

⠀

⠀

The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and violet as you gripped the wheel of your car with the force of someone actively trying not to commit murder. The drive to the escape room was supposed to be uneventful. Key words: supposed to. But Sam Wilson had never once encountered an opportunity for peace without promptly deciding to mischievously ruin it.

It started small. A shift in his seat, a glance at the dashboard, an exhale so faint you almost didn’t catch it. Then, before you knew it, his fingers were wandering, prodding at the glossy screen in the center console with an exaggerated curiosity that made your temple throb.

You gritted your teeth. "Stop touching things."

“Relax,” he drawled, ever the picture of unbothered arrogance. "I’m just exploring my environment."

“It’s not an environment, it’s my car.”

Sam clicked his tongue, grinning in a way that meant nothing good. “You got all these fancy-ass features, and you don’t even use ‘em? Shame. Really makes me question your judgment.”

“You’re about to question your life choices when I push you out onto the freeway.”

With all of your previous spouts, you should have known that issuing such a warning would only serve to encourage his childish behavior.

It started with him cranking the seat warmers up to their highest setting, slowly enough that you didn’t notice until your lower back was mysteriously drenched in sweat. He followed by playing with the ambient lighting, flipping through every color at an alarming rate until the inside of your car looked like a malfunctioning disco ball. But the worst, the absolute worst, came when he discovered your Bluetooth. 

A horrendous mix of static and Sam’s laughter blasted through your speakers as the system synced.

You gawked at him. “If you so much as—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the familiar bright and bouncy opening chords of Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus blared from the speakers, the bubbly pop song catering a stark contrast to the slow-building horror creeping up your spine.

Sam, entirely unbothered by your stricken expression, immodestly threw his feet up onto the dashboard with the air of a man settling in for a long, leisurely road trip rather than someone actively testing the limits of your patience. With the unrestrained passion of a performer standing before a sold-out stadium crowd, he threw his head back and belted at the top of his lungs, “And a Jay-Z song was on!”

You recoiled, grimacing as his voice cracked mid-note. But before responding, you reached over and smacked his legs off the dashboard, sending his sneakers thudding back to the floor. “Get your dirty feet off my dash,” you snapped.

Sam clutched his chest like you’d wounded him. “Oh, live a bit, woman. Damn, you really have no appreciation for the arts or my comfort?”

Your grip tightened around the steering wheel as you ignored his jab, leveling him instead with a flat, unimpressed stare. “This,” you slowly voiced with incredulity, “is the choice you made?”

“Hell yeah.” He nodded in affirmation, not even pausing in his off-key, wholly committed performance. “This is a certified anthem.”

“This is a cry for help.”

Sam gasped, scandalized. “You don’t like Party in the USA?”

“I do. I just don’t like you singing Party in the USA.” Without breaking your focus on the road, you lunged for his phone, yanking it from his grip with the precision of someone who had endured one too many of his antics. A dramatic click later, and blissful silence fell over the cabin.

Your passenger, however, was anything but deterred. He cackled, shoulders shaking, entirely too smug.

You inhaled deeply, willing the tension in your fingers to ease before you left permanent indentations on the wheel. “I swear to God, Wilson—”

“Hey,” he cut in, still grinning like a man with no fear of consequences. “Could’ve been worse. I could’ve switched it to romance audiobooks.”

“I will crash this car.”

The silence was short-lived. Like a cocky thief in the night, Sam moved with the precision of a soldier and the recklessness of a man who knew exactly how to test your limits. One second, the phone was in your grasp, victory assured. The next, it was snatched away with infuriating ease.

You barely had time to register the offense before the speakers flared back to life, the cabin suddenly swelling with the smooth, honeyed tones of a song that hit far too close to home.

"I see the crystal raindrops fall…"

Your eyes snapped to him, narrowing in slow, dawning realization. The Falcon, unbothered and wholly self-satisfied, leaned back against the seat with his arms folded behind his head as if he hadn't just detonated a nostalgia bomb between you. The smooth timbre of Grover Wshington Jr.’s voice accompagnied the melodious instrumental of Just the Two of Us, the saxophone bringing more than just nostalgia of a classic.

You knew exactly what he was doing. You remembered the easy rhythm of laughter between verses as you'd vaguely engage in a clumsy waltz, tripping over both feet and lyrics and pretending it was intentional. You remembered Sam’s off-key falsetto and your equally disastrous harmonies, along with the unshakable euphoria and certainty that no matter where life took you, you’d always end up in the same place.

But life had a way of rewriting certainties—the choices that wedged themselves between you was certainly proof of it. And yet, despite everything that happened, that song still had its hooks in you.

Sam, ever the instigator, drummed his fingers against the dashboard, slow and patient, like a fisherman waiting for the line to tug. When you didn’t react, he turned his head and elbowed you in your arm. “C’mon. Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I do remember.”

“Then sing.”

You scoffed, pretending it didn’t get to you. “Pass.”

His grin sharpened. “Boo, loser. What, so you can’t sing anymore? That’s crazy. Didn’t know losing your ability to sing was part of getting old and bitter—”

Your glare should have scorched him and wiped that insufferable smirk right off his face, but he only leaned in, fully basking in his role as an unrepentant menace.

"We can make it if we try…" He sang it pointedly, nudging you again with his elbow like an annoying kid brother. You swatted him away without sparing a glance. He did it again. And again. Until finally—

You exhaled sharply, grip slackening. “I hate you.”

But as the chorus approached, the words left your lips before you could stop them.

"Just the two of us…"

It was barely a whisper at first, something fragile and unintentional. But Sam caught it immediately and grinned just as quickly, victorious, before singing louder.

You rolled your eyes, but the fight was already lost.

“That’s my girl,” he cheered on, and before you could roll your eyes, he threw his head back and belted out the next line with all the fanciness of a Broadway performer.

By the next verse, you were both loudly singing off-key. He purposely overstated his notes, while you botched entire lines just to tease him. Laughter flowed freely between lines, busting through the barricades you'd both painstakingly established.  Sam, ever the dramatist, went full concert mode, wiggling his shoulders like an overenthusiastic backup dancer and pretending to hold a microphone as he crooned into his fist.

“No,” you moaned in exasperation between bursts of laughter as he hit an ungodly note. “That was—oh my God, Sam, stop—that is a crime against music.”

He only doubled down, adding unnecessary falsetto flourishes and pointing dramatically out the window as if serenading the passing trees. The harmonies were an absolute disaster. The timing was questionable at best. But for those few minutes, it didn’t matter. It was just you and Sam, the car, and the open road, voices colliding in the space between you.

It shouldn't have felt so natural, to slip into something that had been tearing around the edges for years. But for a brief while, it did—which was perilous, like plunging into still waters.

No matter how lighthearted it appeared, you were smart enough to understand that the political choice in this song was not only to reminisce about one of your favorite memories, but also to convey a hidden message, as the song still had meaning in its lines. “We can make it if we try”. It was a promise, one you had scarcely believed in with your whole heart before you had to learn to live without him. 

By the time the final note of the song was hit, the magic was broken. You cleared your throat and adjusted your grip on the wheel. You mumbled, "Still sing like a damn goat," since it was easier than admitting anything else.

Sam snorted. "You still talk big for someone who sounds like a dying cat."

Quietness regained its rightful place, this time more charged than before with the shadow of something lost between you. He shoved his hands into his pockets, head down, looking like he was trying to collect his thoughts—or just avoid whatever was about to spill out.

“Look, about everything that happened...” He hesitated, voice trailing off, before he tried again. “I didn’t mean—”

You cut him off before he could continue. “It’s fine,” you muttered, trying to keep the ache from spilling over. “Honestly, I should’ve expected it. You’re always going to be tied up in something bigger than us. I get it now. I should’ve known better.”

The pilot didn’t respond right away but you still made out the sound of him breathing down his nose, betraying the turmoil that was spiralling in his mind. “I just—I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring what happened. I—”

“No.” The word came out before you could stop it, hard and final. Your lips twisted into a smile, but it was bitter, hollow. “You don’t need to apologize anymore. It’s not necessary. I mean, the Air Force is a big thing. And now with the whole Avengers thing…” Your breath hitched slightly. “You had big priorities. It’s understandable.”

The words left a bitter taste on your tongue, every syllable a shard of resentment you had tried for so long to swallow. “It’s okay. You don’t need to make up some excuse.”

Sam’s expression flickered, his features shifting subtly as he processed your words, but he didn’t respond. His silence felt like another slap in the face, the unspoken weight of his guilt settling over the car.

"It just hurt," you continued, the words uncontrollably tumbling out of your mouth, as if you couldn’t hold them back any longer. "You said you’d make time. That we could figure it out." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, your chest tight with the pressure of everything you’d been carrying. "But then... it was like I was just some side story to your life. I had to deal with everything on my own. You didn’t just leave me, Sam. You left me hanging in front of the entire world, like I was an afterthought."

You could see him flinching and opening his mouth to speak, but the reply stayed stuck somewhere behind his teeth for awhile. “I didn’t mean for it to happen that way,” he finally admitted, his voice tight with frustration, lips pressed into a thin line. “You have to know that.” 

You let out a dry laugh, bitter and edged with years of pent-up anger. "No," you spat, shaking your head. "I don’t know that. I really don’t. And now you want to apologize? You think a few words will make it go away?" You turned to him then with glaring eyes, the dam inside you breaking wide open. “But I guess I should’ve known better, right? You’ve always got more important things on your plate than me. And I was just dumb enough to think I could be part of it." You let out a shaky breath. "That’s on me, not you.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed, his fists clenched so tightly against his knees that you could see the tendons in his hands strain. "That’s not fair," he rasped.

“No,” you bit out with the bitter burn of years of disappointment. “What’s not fair is pretending everything’s okay now, like you didn’t leave me in the dust. You can’t just waltz back in here and expect me to forget how much it hurt when you left me behind.”

Sam growled, his gaze snapping to yours with an intensity that could’ve burned brighter than the sunlight reflecting on the windshield. “I didn’t mean to do that. It wasn’t like that. If you’d just let me explain—”

But you were already shaking your head, a bitter laugh slipping out as you cut him off. "It doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this again."

The rest of the drive stretched on in silence, bouncing on the precarious mix of unsaid words and the sharp sting of old wounds reopening. By the time you pulled into the parking lot of the escape room, your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, your body wound tight with the tension of everything you’d let out during the ride.

You almost yanked the car into park with more force than necessary, the engine’s rumbling metaphorically serving as a harsh reminder of how you were both still reeling from your slight altercation.

The door slammed shut behind you, but neither of you made a move to walk toward the entrance. The space between you felt wider than the parking lot itself. You weren’t sure what else to say, if there was even anything left to say. 

“You should go inside first,” you finally said, your eyes staying firmly on the building in front of you. “I still need to arrange a few things in the car.” You were making a conscious decision to create some distance, to not go beyond what you could navigate through the dangerous waves of this confrontation. “Good luck with your date… or, uh, escape game.” You gave a small, tight smile, though it felt more like a bitter farewell than any kind of encouragement.

Sam silently hesitated, his eyes searching yours, like he was about to say something—but the words never formed. Instead, he took a deep breath and gave a short nod. "You too. Good luck with... whatever it is you're gonna do, too."

Without another word, he turned his back to you and walked toward the entrance with stiff shoulders. His footsteps echoed against the pavement as he left you alone, marking said distance you were so adamant on implementing once and for all.

You didn’t watch him go. You couldn’t. Instead, you opened your door with a soft creak, the cool night air rushing in as you slid back into the driver’s seat. It felt like a strange kind of closure, the door clicking shut behind you as if you were signing the definite end of a chapter, even if nothing really felt settled. With a shaky hand, you wiped the stray tears that had fallen down your cheeks, quickly brushing them away like they never happened, like you could pretend they weren’t there.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. There was still the night ahead, the escape game to focus on, even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it.

⠀

⠀

The artificial chill of the air conditioning wrapped around you as soon as you stepped inside, abruptly differing from the lingering warmth of dusk. The area smelled somewhat floral, though not in a pleasant way—more like a half-hearted attempt to conceal the antiseptic, even clinical ambiance. The welcome space looked sleek and modern, with clean lines and soft, ambient lighting, but something seemed odd.

A trio of employees stood behind the clean counter, their demeanor courteous but impersonal. Their uniforms were clean, their smiles practiced, and their eyes assessing—not in a way that made you feel welcome, but rather processed.

"Just need you to sign a few things," one of them said, sliding a clipboard toward you with the kind of ease that suggested they had done this a hundred times before. Maybe a thousand.

You picked up the pen and skimmed the pages, your brows knitting together. Waiver. Consent form. Limited liability in the case of mild distress.

Everything screamed shady.

Even though you knew they conducted a comprehensive background check on their clients' criminal records—you knew because you boldly inquired beforehand—your gut twisted with disquiet, a silent warning you had long since learned not to ignore. But you forced yourself to exhale, suppressing the mounting doubt. Sarah planned this, and she wouldn't throw you into an underground horror movie scenario, right?

Still, the blindfold part? That was peculiar, to say the least.

“Standard procedure,” the staff member assured you in a smooth and clearly rehearsed tone. That didn’t make you feel any better.

But you weren’t about to back out now. Soundly sighing, you allowed them to tie the fabric securely over your eyes, and in an instant, the world went black.

A friendly but firm hand took you down what appeared to be a long corridor. Each step heightened the sense of disorientation, the absence of sight accentuating everything else—hushed murmurs in the distance, the continuous flaps of an air vent above, the dull pressure of the floor under you. Then a pause. The air became colder. A door opened, and you were gently guided inside.

The door shut behind you, and the person beside you vanished.

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching at the sides. The lack of vision made everything feel too much—the faint shuffle of your own feet as you shifted nervously, the way your breathing seemed louder than it should, the slight press of your pulse on your temples. How long were they going to leave you here?

The weight of the silence stretched, and so did the edges of your nerves. Finally, the door creaked open again. Your spine became rigid. Footsteps, slow and measured. The door clicked closed once more.

Someone was here.

You exhaled, forcing an easy tone into your voice despite the unease creeping up your spine. "So, uh… I guess this is the part where we introduce ourselves? Hi, I’m—"

A strange, loaded silence tightened around you like a noose, twisting in your stomach. Were they simply joking with you? Or was there something else going on here?

Your patience, already thin after the day's events, had fully frayed. Screw this. Against your better judgment, you reached up and ripped the blindfold off, blinking rapidly as your eyes acclimated to the room's dull, amber hue.

And there, across from you, stood Sam. A solitary rose danced between his fingers, whirling aimlessly, as if he had all the time in the world. His attitude was unreadable—calm and poised, but his eyes held something you couldn't quite identify.

"Oh, hell no."

Sam let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing his temple like the sheer force of his fingers could press back the headache forming there. “Unbelievable,” he sneered, shaking his head. “I should’ve known Sarah was up to something when she kept dodging my questions.”

You let out a scoff, dragging a hand down your face as the reality of the situation settled over you like an unbearable weight. “This is what I get for trusting Sarah with this. Honestly, I’d rather deal with Bucky’s endless teasing right now than… this.”

The veteran arched a brow, folding his arms. “To be fair, you did let her set you up on a blind date with a stranger.”

You leveled him with a look. “Yeah, and so did you!” You threw up your hands. “And we came here together. Did she seriously think we wouldn’t notice?”

He exhaled sharply, his expression caught between exasperation and reluctant amusement. “Guess she figured we’d be too busy arguing to put the pieces together.”

You scoffed. “Well, congrats to her, then. She got exactly what she wanted.”

Determined to put an end to this ridiculous setup, you turned toward the door, grasped the handle, and gave it a firm tug. It didn’t budge. Your pulse ticked higher. You tried again, more forcefully this time, but the door remained stubbornly locked.

Behind you, Sam sighed, the sound far too entertained for your liking. “Still locked?”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, jaw tight. “Obviously.”

Before he could toss out another quip, the overhead speakers crackled to life, the static buzzing through the dimly lit room before a saccharine, overly cheerful voice filled the space.

"Welcome, lovebirds, to the Valentine’s Day Escape Challenge!"

Your entire body went rigid. Sam, standing just a few feet away, had stilled completely, his eyes narrowing like he was already regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.

"Over the next hour, you and your partner will work together to solve puzzles, uncover secrets, and—most importantly—ignite a spark between you!"

Your eye twitched. "The what?"

The Falcon was still staring up at the speaker, but you could feel the sheer amount of unspoken profanity radiating off of him.

"You have sixty minutes! And remember... teamwork makes the dream work!"

A mechanical clunk sounded somewhere in the room, and a timer flickered to life on the far wall, its neon numbers casting an ominous glow.

59:59. 59:58. 59:57.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, forcing down the overwhelming urge to scream, then turned to Sam. He met your stare, equally exasperated, equally resigned.

The room was an assault of saccharine love-themed aesthetics, as if Eros himself had suffered a violent, glitter-drenched demise. Heart-shaped garlands draped along the walls in looping chains, glowing pink fairy lights casting a hazy, dreamlike blush over every velvet-draped surface. A gilded vanity stood against one wall, its mirror smeared with cryptic riddles in waxy, crimson lipstick. The simulated fireplace screen let out crackled sounds, its flames flickering just a little too artificially, a cheap illusion of warmth in a space meant to seduce.

At the center of it all sat a small, round table, dressed in pristine white linen, set for two. A single wax-sealed envelope rested atop the china, like the final invitation to some grand, elaborate joke.

Sam let out a low whistle, slow and unimpressed as he took in the spectacle. “It’s like Cupid threw up in here.”

You crossed your arms, exhaling through your nose. “More like a discount wedding venue.”

“Either way, I already hate it.”

“Great. Common ground.” You stepped forward, plucking the envelope off the table, breaking the seal with a sharp tear. “Means we’ll get through this faster.”

Inside, a delicate pink card gleamed under the low lighting, its cursive gold lettering gliding across the surface like a whispered dare:

"To escape, one must first unlock the heart. Find the key, answer truthfully, and embrace the game."

You flipped the card over, your frown deepening. Blank.

“Well, that’s unhelpful.”

Sam leaned in over your shoulder, the warmth of his unwelcome presence creeping at your back. “Sounds like a load of nonsense.”

“Sounds like we need to find a key.” You tossed the card aside and swept your gaze across the room. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He followed at an infuriatingly lazy pace, hands tucked in his pockets. “You always this impatient on dates?”

You shot him a glare. “You always this obnoxious?”

“‘That a rhetorical question?”

You huffed, stepping toward the vanity. Its antique gold frame was chipped, and its once-opulent beauty weathered down to something just shy of decadent. Trinkets littered the surface—heart-shaped perfume bottles, a pearl necklace draped over a porcelain hand sculpture, and a plush teddy bear wearing a satin bow tie.

You picked up the bear, giving it a shake. Something rattled inside. Without hesitation, you grabbed the bow and pulled at it, to which the Avenger let out a sharp breath. “At least pretend to have some finesse. Poor guy.”

You turned, leveling him with a glare. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer I politely ask the stuffed animal for the key?”

His smirk was all teeth. “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

With an exaggerated tug, the bow finally tore away, revealing a tiny brass key stitched into the lining. Triumphant, you held it up between two fingers, letting it catch the candlelight. “Hah. Suck it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded toward the oversized keyhole carved into the farthest door. “Moment of truth.”

The lock clicked smoothly, the door groaning as it swung inward to reveal the next part of your prison—a room bathed in deep red velvet, dimly lit by flickering candle sconces. A loveseat sat at its heart, a small pedestal beside it, where a single glass dome encased a perfect red rose.

You exhaled sharply. “Great. More romantic fuckery.”

Sam rolled his shoulders, his stance widening. “Starting to think this whole thing is just an excuse for people to make out in a locked room.”

You shot him a warning look. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re really killing the mood.”

Your attention shifted to the plaque beneath the rose. The words, engraved in curling script, sent an uneasy shiver down your spine: "A promise once spoken, never fulfilled, lingers in the heart forever." You took a step back, exhaling a little too precipitously. “Alright. Where’s the next clue?”

Sam didn’t move. His gaze lingered on the plaque before flickering back to you. “That bother you?”

“Nope,” you said too quickly. “Just wanna get out of here.”

He studied you, and for once, he wasn’t all for the laughs. “You’re lying straight to my face.”

You stiffened. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.” His voice was laced with the same exasperation you remembered from years ago—when things were different. When things were good. “You think I don’t know? You think I don’t see it?”

You pivoted angrily towards him. “See what, Sam? I told you everything already. You want to talk about how years later, when you came back, I was the one whose name got dragged through the dirt because some paparazzi decided I made a convenient headline?”

His jaw ticked. “You think I wanted that to happen?”

“Well you barely did a damn thing to stop it, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, so that was my fault?” His voice rose, heat sparking in his eyes. “I was trying to keep you out of that mess! You think I had any control over what the media did?”

“Maybe not.” Your breath came hard now, uneven. “But you had control over what you did. And you chose to stay silent.”

The room’s candlelight flickered violently, shadows dancing along the walls that suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, encaging you in this intolerable and toxic chasm of tug-of-war fight. Sam’s hands flexed at his sides. He looked like he wanted to grab something—grab you, maybe, or stop himself from doing exactly that.

“Say it,” he finally murmured, voice rough.

You swallowed. “Say what?”

“Whatever it is you’ve been dying to say since I walked back here.” His gaze burned into yours. “Go ahead. Get it out.”

The pathetic words escaped before you could stop them.

“You lied to me and I hate you for it.”

Sam flinched, but you pressed on, voice breaking on the edges. “You promised I wouldn’t just be some forgotten thing in your past. And you never even tried.”

His nostrils flared. “You think I didn’t want to?”

“Oh, please.” You let out a bitter laugh. “You were fine. You left, became a hero, and forgot all about me until you came back wearing a fucking jetpack.”

“You were never something I could forget.”

You felt something crack in your chest. “You don’t get to say that now, Sam,” you whispered.

He stepped closer. Then again. You barely realized you were moving too, until the air between you collapsed, the heat of his body pressing into yours, the tension a live wire sparking between your ribs. 

"Then look me in the eye," Sam rasped, his voice raw, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. "Look at me and tell me I’m lying and this doesn’t mean anything anymore. Tell me you don’t feel it—say the words, and I’ll walk away. But say them like you mean them." 

Your throat worked, but no words came. Because as much as you wanted to deny the allegations, you did feel it. The frustration, the anger. And beneath it all—the wanting, the aching. The bone-deep longing for something neither of you had the courage to claim when it mattered.

In an unfurling of sudden movement, his back hit the wall with a dull thud, but before he could react, you were on him, fisting the front of his shirt and crashing your mouth against his, engaging in a battle more than a kiss. It was akin to a wildfire—scorching, desperate, all teeth and heat, the culmination of every regret and every second wasted.

The pilot groaned into it, his hands flying to your waist, strong and sure as he hauled you against him. A sharp gasp left you at the feeling of his body flush with yours, but he didn’t give you room to think or to breathe. He spun you, pressing you back against the wall, his mouth relentless against yours, moving with a punishing, consuming intent—like he wanted to devour you whole.

Your fingers twisted further into his meticulous white shirt, attempting to pull him impossibly closer than you already were. He swallowed the sound that escaped you, deepening the kiss like a starved man, like he needed this, needed you, needed to make up for all the time lost.

His lips dragged over your jaw, hot breath ghosting against your skin.

"Still mad?" he murmured against your lips, voice thick with want, teasing even now, even like this.

Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, seizing it and savoring how his breath hitched at your doing, the way his fingers flexed against your waist. "Furious."

Sam’s breath stuttered against your lips, a ragged sound caught between a groan and something dangerously close to surrender. His fingers curled into your waist, holding you like he needed to anchor himself, like if he let go, you’d slip through his grasp and take the last shred of his self-control with you.

The kiss burned, devouring, each second unraveling the years of restraint neither of you wanted to acknowledge anymore. You felt the tension in the way he pressed against you, in the way his hands slid beneath your shirt, palms searing against your skin. Your nails raked down his back, dragging over hard covered muscle, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your fists as if you could pull him deeper into you, as if there was any space left between you to close.

"Tell me to stop," Sam gasped through the clashing of your mouths, the words nearly lost to the breathlessness between you. His request went ignored as his lips traced a slow, punishing path down your jaw, his breath hot against your throat as his hands wandered, gripping, relearning, claiming back what was once his for a brief instance. 

You tilted your head, granting him more access, shivering as he took it without hesitation, teeth scraping against sensitive skin. Your fingers roamed over his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt, the solid weight of him beneath your touch. It wasn’t enough. You needed more. Needed skin, heat, the press of him without barriers.

Your hands found the first button of his shirt, fumbling in your urgency. One button slipped free, then another, the fabric parting under your fingers.

Until the door slammed open.

You barely had time to gasp before Sam reacted on instinct. In a blur of movement, he thrusted you behind him, body braced like a shield between you and whoever had just interrupted.

A pair of employees stood in the doorway, frozen like deer in headlights. One clutched a clipboard, the other a maintenance checklist, both staring like they had just walked in on a crime scene.

A heavy silence stretched between all of you.

"Uh…" The clipboard guy cleared his throat, his voice weak, almost apologetic. "This… isn't a private room."

Sam exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience clearly dangling by a thread. His chest still heaved with unspent frustration and the lingering burn of what had been seconds away from happening. He ran a slow hand down his face before fixing them with a dark, pointed look.

"Clearly," he said flatly.

The maintenance guy swallowed hard. "We—we knocked. Three times."

Clipboard guy shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting everywhere but at you and Sam. "Look, we know you signed up for it and all, but this is too much—you can’t stay here. We have to ask you to leave. Immediately."

The Avenger stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as he looked them up and down. The movement was subtle, but the effect was instant. Clipboard guy flinched. Maintenance guy tensed, suddenly looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"You saw nothing," he declared lowly. "And whatever you think you saw? No you didn’t." His gaze flicked downward, locking onto the phone peeking out of the employee’s pocket.

The guy scrambled to pull it out, hands shaking as he unlocked the screen. "N-Nothing there! See?" He turned it around in a panic.

Sam barely glanced at it before nodding, satisfied. "Good. Smart choice."

You bit your lip, caught between laughter and mortification as Sam slid an arm around your waist, steering you toward the exit with purposeful ease.

"Now," he continued, voice laced with something smug as he leaned in just enough for only you to hear, "if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be."

His grip on your hip tightened as he led you outside, your pulse hammering in response, the rest of the world fading as the need he had ignited moments ago roared back to life with a vengeance.

⠀

⠀

The ride back to the restaurant was enveloped in a heavy silence—not the brittle awkwardness of unspoken apologies nor the tenseness of imminent confrontation, but a solemn, almost sacred quietude laden with things neither of you yet dared to name.

You kept your eyes fixed on the road, though the lingering warmth of Sam’s hand on your waist remained—a memory of intimacy that had evaporated the instant you stepped out of that room. The echo of what had nearly transpired clung to your skin like a phantom caress, simmering just beneath the surface, an unacknowledged secret shared between you.

When you finally reached the restaurant, the usual mix of clamors of conversation and the tinkling of glasses felt jarringly discordant against the subdued cadence of your thoughts. You both hesitated at the entrance, lingering in the threshold. After a long pause, Sam sighed deeply, his hand drifting to his jaw as if to smooth away the remnants of the night’s turbulence. “Go wait for me,” he ordered you, “at our spot.”

That command stopped you in your tracks.

Our spot.

It had been years since either of you had dared to approach it, much less mention it aloud. The old corner by the water hidden from the prying lights of the city, where you had once spent long, languid nights nursing cheap beer, debating everything and nothing, and watching the world settle into quiet dreams. Back when neither of you had been bold enough to risk shattering that fragile haven.

You searched his face, but his eyes were fixed beyond you, as if he were still uncertain whether the words should have been spoken at all. Still, you nodded.

The dock greeted you like a cherished relic from a bygone era. Weathered wooden planks stretched over dark, rippling water, the faint, distant glow of the city shimmering in its reflection. The air was crisp and invigorating, hinting at the encroaching chill of night and making you wish you had remembered to bring a jacket.

You sank onto the edge of the dock, letting your feet dangle freely above the water, your fingers twisting together in quiet contemplation. Time slipped by in muted anticipation until, at last, the sound of footsteps echoed softly behind you. Then, as if conjured by the very night, a presence settled beside you.

Without a word, Sam pressed a cold bottle on your forehead that burned as it met your skin, making you almost jump out of your place before you took the flask of whiskey—and set another beside him. He then unfurled a thick, timeworn blanket, draping it over both of you with a fluid, almost reverent motion.

The warmth of the blanket combined with the closeness of his body seeped into you instantly, chasing away the chill of the night. For a long moment, you simply sat there, the dock creaking softly beneath your weight, the gentle lapping of water against old wood composing a quiet symphony for your shared solitude.

You sighed, rolling the bottle between your palms. “So..”

One simple word laden with the totality of everything left unsaid, a distillation of years of longing, regret and the raw, unspoken truth of your intertwined past.

You exhaled slowly, tightening your grip on the blanket as though holding it could tether you both to this moment. This was it—the precipice upon which you both now stood. There was no turning away, no hiding behind silence any longer. 

“So,” Sam repeated, his voice tinged with playful mischief as he copied your idle toying with the cold bottle in his hand, “that was… something, wasn’t it?” 

“Ugh, don’t say something cliché like that. But yeah, that was definitely something for the books, I guess.” You managed a shaky smile, your words emerging in a hesitant cadence. There was a lightness in your tone—a mirth that felt like a delicate mask over the swirling emotions that both terrified and enthralled you.

The Falcon grinned, arching an eyebrow. “You know, if it weren’t for how noisy Sarah is, we might have savored it in peace.”

You chuckled softly, the sound both amused and rueful. “She practically narrated our every move. You know she loves her piece of drama.”

“Exactly,” he agreed in a playful tone yet laced with something deeper—a hint of regret, perhaps. “I think she made sure we were loud enough for at least the entire escape room to hear.”

You shook your head, still smiling despite the vulnerability threading through your laughter. “I guess sometimes a little noise is inevitable. I mean, if everything were hushed, we’d never have the chance to remember just how messy and magnificent it all was.”

Sam’s eyes softened as he took a slow sip from the bottle, the amber liquid catching the light. “Sounds like the perfect way to put it,” he murmured absent-mindedly. Your fingers moved on to fidget with the edge of the blanket draped around you, and Sam’s gaze frequently wandered to your flushed face, as if silently pleading for some unspoken reassurance.

“Ask me,” he suddenly requested, his voice both gentle and edged with a trace of desperation, as though he believed that the right question might finally untangle the knots of regret and longing that had haunted you both for so long. “Ask me the question you’ve been holding back.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, each beat echoing with years of missed chances and unspoken words. In a trembling rush of emotion, you blurted out, “What—uh, did you like it?” Your voice quavered, carrying the weight of the moment like a fragile plea.

Sam’s eyes shimmered with a mixture of relief and sorrow as he slowly shook his head. “No,” he replied, his tone soft yet resolute. “I mean—yes, but that’s not what I meant.” He paused, carefully choosing his words as if every syllable carried the gravity of the past. “Ask me the one you’ve wanted to ask for so long.”

A delicate tremor passed through you, and your breath caught in your throat. After a long, painful silence, you whispered, “Why didn’t you write me?” 

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the dock, as if the night itself awaited his answer. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and slowly extracted a tightly knotted bundle of papers. Unraveling the thread with careful fingers, he revealed a stack of letters, yellowed with time and crinkled at the edges.

“I did write you letters,” he softly admitted, his gaze fixed on the fragile pages as if they contained his very soul. “That’s what I wanted to tell you for so long. Three hundred and sixty-five of them… one for every day.” His voice trembled with both pride and regret. “But you have to understand—the Air Force policy was tight as fuck. I couldn’t send them, and once I realized that, I… I knew you’d resent me for not keeping in touch.”

He paused, running a hand over the neatly stacked pages. “This whole thing took a toll on me—physically, mentally. I was drowning in obligations and fear, and eventually, I stopped writing because I thought maybe it was the only way to spare you from more pain.” His eyes darkened as he continued, voice barely a murmur now. “And as for the paparazzi… I thought that by not speaking, by keeping my distance, I’d protect you. If I wasn’t seen with you, they’d assume there was no connection—no real relationship worth prying into.”

A single tear glinted in the corner of your eye as you absorbed his words, each one a quiet confession, a secret revealed in the darkness. The letters lay between you like relics of a lost time—a testament to love, duty, and the unbearable cost of silence.

Your fingers trembled as they hovered above the fragile stack of letters, each page heavy with the weight of stolen years and unspoken regrets. The unsent words pressed against your chest as though they carried every moment lost between you, every silent apology and longing unfulfilled. You swallowed hard, the night air thick with an unspoken tremor that danced at the edge of every exhale.

“Tell me about them,” you professed, your voice scarcely more than a whisper carried on the breeze.

The pilot exhaled sharply, his thumb absently caressing the frayed edges of one of the letters as if it were a relic of his former self. “You really want to know?” he asked, his tone tentative, laced with both caution and the burden of truth.

You nodded, your silence affirming that, despite your uncertainty, you needed to hear every word.

For a long moment, Sam’s eyes remained fixed on the ink-smudged pages, the ghostly script of his past gazing back at him in silent testimony. “One of the first letters was angry,” he began, a wry, self-deprecating chuckle trembling at the edge of his words. “Not angry at you. Never at you. I was furious at the situation. I remember that first night in my bunk, where all I could think was how I’d have to let you down. I thought I should’ve fought harder, found a way to make it work. So I wrote it all down and thought that I would probably be out soon enough to give you them in person.”

His fingers tightened around the bundle, as if the letters themselves could anchor him to a past he both cherished and loathed. “I started writing about the small, absurd things—like how the coffee on base was godawful, the jibes from the guys when I apparently mumbled your name in my sleep—which I did not, to make things clear. I even wrote about an old couple I saw on television one day and how it reminded me of when you joked that we’d be arguing over directions even when we were eighty.” His tone faltered, growing quieter, more solemn. “And then there were the letters where I just… missed you. God, I missed you so much.”

Sam’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his grip on the letters slackened, as though holding them was too painful. “And it got harder. Days turned into months, and I convinced myself that you’d moved on—that I had no right to cling onto us. But even then, I never stopped wanting you.”

He turned his gaze to you then, the glow of unsent confessions and quiet grief shining in his eyes. “And it shouldn’t matter anymore because it’s over. Or at least, that’s what I should believe. But it does. It always has.”

The wind whispered softly around you, stirring the fragile pages in his hand and carrying away echoes of moments lost to time. Your heart clenched, caught between the relief of knowing and the heartbreak of what might have been.

In one sudden, desperate motion, he reached for you. His fingers brushed your jaw lightly at first, then cradled your face with a tenderness that belied the cool night air. His thumbs, warm and steady, traced gentle arcs over your cheekbones—anchoring you both to this moment, to the years lost and the yearning that had bridged every mile of distance between you.

His eyes, dark and unwavering, burned into yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. “Hear me out, please,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent, as though the very thought of you slipping away again was unbearable. “I was a coward. I should’ve done better than that but I let fear, and everything else, win. I told myself I was protecting you, that I was doing what was best. But all I did was make it worse. I made you think I didn’t care when the truth is... I never stopped.”

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, but Sam did not wait for you to speak. His grip on your face tightened, firm enough to keep you tethered to him without causing pain.

“I love you.”

The words fell between you like fragile glass shards, the shatter of the barriers of years resonating with their fall. “Yeah, fuck this corny shit. I have loved you every single damn day since the moment I let you go. I know it’s selfish to say it now, after everything, but I just need you to know that I love you. And I’m so goddamn sorry that I ever made you doubt that.”

A shudder ran through you, and your hands clutched his wrists as if they were the only lifeline in your storm of emotions. Every syllable struck like a slow-burning flame, peeling back layers of anger, heartbreak, and longing until all that remained was the undeniable truth—him, you, and a love that refused to fade.

“Sam—” you began, but your voice cracked, the word lost to the tumult of your feelings.

It didn’t matter anyway, because before you could speak another word, he kissed you with the same fervor from earlier, as if he were a man finally allowed to feast upon the love that had sustained him in torturous silence. His lips met yours with a desperate ardour that sent shivers racing down your spine, his hands roaming to trace the soft curve of your neck and leading you to melt into the perfect fit of his embrace.

The world around you—the creaking dock, the ghostly remnants of past regrets—faded into insignificance. All that remained was the kiss, deepening with every heartbeat, as if he were trying to reclaim every lost day, every stolen hour of absence. And you, with equal fervor and need, returned his kiss. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, as if in that embrace you could mend the ruptures of time itself.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, your foreheads pressed together in the cool night air. “Please, tell me that wasn’t a mistake.”

Your fingers trailed slowly down his chest, grasping the fabric as if to hold onto the fragile promise of the moment. “No,” you whispered back, your voice tender and resolute. “This time it wasn’t.”

A slow grin spread across Sam’s face, and relief flooded his features like the first rays of the morning sun after a long, storm-ridden night. He swept you into his arms, lifting you clear off the ground to bring you closer, almost sitting on his lap. The world tilted delightfully as a rich, unburdened laughter bubbled from his chest in a way you hadn’t heard in a while, full of joy and the promise of new beginnings.

“You’re gonna make me lose my damn mind,” he crooned against your hair in a husky blend of disbelief and something infinitely tender, a softness that belied the wildness of the moment.

A breathy laugh escaped you as your hands instinctively clinging to his broad shoulders as if anchoring you both to the present. “You’re acting like I just solved every world crisis,” you teased, even as your heart pounded in its rhythmic cadence.

“Nah,” he replied, his thumb traced reverently along your jaw, as though memorizing every curve and line of your face. “Just mine.” 

A quiet ache formed in your chest at the way he looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe you were real, as if he were etching every detail of you into memory in case the universe ever dared be cruel again.

Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt, and with a voice steadier than you felt, you whispered, “I love you too, Sam.”

For a heartbeat, his lips parted as if to utter more, but before the words could spill, a familiar voice shattered the reverie.

“Hey, lovebirds! Dinner’s ready!” Sarah called from the restaurant’s back porch, her tone playful as she leaned against the doorway with crossed arms and a knowing smirk that practically screamed, took you long enough.

Sam groaned, tipping his head back. “Jesus, can I have one moment—just one?” he protested.

Laughing, you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the warm glow of the restaurant. “Come on, loverboy, before she comes out here and drags us inside herself.”

The golden light of the restaurant melted away the coolness of the night, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. As you walked back to the shack, a spark of mischief danced at the edges of your lips. You shot Sam a sidelong glance, the playful glimmer in your eyes challenging him.

“Wait a second…” you drawled, narrowing your eyes and tilting your head. “Did you—did you quote The Notebook in your big, dramatic profession of love?”

For a moment, his grip on your hand tightened, and he faltered, pigment further coloring his cheeks. “What?” he managed, his tone caught between indignation and bashful amusement.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, pressing a hand to your mouth as barely contained laughter bubbled forth. “You did! That ‘it wasn’t over’ thing—straight out of The Notebook!”

His arm looped around your shoulders, drawing you closer with a quiet, playful threat. His large palm briefly covered the back of your head as he guided you forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Say one more word about that, and I swear I will stuff you so full of oysters you won’t be able to utter a single syllable for a week.”

You snorted. “Really? That’s your big intimidation tactic?”

“Ever tried eating twenty oysters in one sitting?” he shot back, arching a brow and letting his lips twitch in a smirk. “I don’t think so. Now, go sit down and eat before I make it happen.”

Grinning, you leaned into his side, feeling the easy warmth of his arm as it draped around you. After all the lost time and shattered dreams, everything felt achingly, irrevocably right. Perhaps the years apart had only deepened the truth: the time you thought was lost might, in fact, still be yours to reclaim, as you were fated to be stuck together no matter what.

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[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── . 🛹 𖦹 ⋆ ࣪.  dream in college

happy reading. requested. library.

haechan. leather jackets. a different vape every day. smoking in the parking lot at night. he always carries a pair of headphones, wired ones. talks with everyone but lowkey lonely. attends to parties often, he's the guy you'd ask your friend to introduce you to. he's an open book, but at the same time he's full of secrets. if you take away all the jokes he makes, he's actually intelligent. relaxed. he'd probably do well in economics or administration. a first-class heartthrob, flirting comes out lightly and easily. or so they say, because when it comes to you, haechan is just a whole bunch of babbling and gaffes.

chenle. law or finance. he sees himself managing his family's company. no one beats him in class discussions, no one except you. you'd probably start a rivalry that grows and grows until you can't stand to see each other in the same place. expensive cars, elite parties, and a scandal in a hotel room. although his parents have mansions and luxurious apartments all over the world, he prefers the comfort of university dormitories. he doesn't attend parties much, his father cut off his credit card when he gave the whole party rounds of alcohol last time. he's pretty good at the dead stare when someone says something stupid. probably has the appearance of being petty, but in reality he's a moron with a lot of money. has a soft spot for smart girls, that's why he can't stand liking you.

mark. he misses most of the classes, but he's a brainiac. a bit popular but only because he's friends with popular people. doesn't know how he got the girl. architecture or robotics. he doesn't like parties very much but he attends because you're there. loud music on headphones. paper crafts . love letters. if you invite him home to study, you end up watching movies. and then when you fall asleep on his shoulder, he has no choice but fall asleep with you, head over yours. his hand somehow ends up intertwined with your fingers when you wake up. he's definitely not calm when it comes to you. he always shows how much he likes you. you simply don't read his misinterpreted signs well.

jeno. parent's sweetheart. multifaceted. bruises and sweat from the lacrosse team. he must maintain his sports scholarship by getting good grades, so he asks you for help. to you? a four-eyed one? what a horror! he breaks the prototype of a tough boy, he doesn't really know how big and strong he is. sometimes he gets tongue tied when he gets nervous... it happens a lot around you when you ask him big questions. he hasn't decided a career yet, so he takes some basic subjects. you make it look easy, he wishes he could have your brain, but he's satisfied with hearing you talk and talk and talk... he is also an easy sleeper. if he goes to parties it's because he's dragged you with him, but in the end his friends get all his attention and he leaves you at your mercy. his eyes, however, stay on you at all times, and his gaze becomes heavier when he sees you talking to a guy across the room.

jaemin. founder of the group of loners. a pair of girlfriends with one boy. he's always in big crowds but usually because he makes friends with outgoing people, so he ultimately attends to some parties. he's the guy you ask to take care of your drink when you go to the bathroom. physics and engineering. that he doesn't talk much attracts attention, he doesn't realize he's alluring because of that. you always see him waiting for someone on your way home, his gaze detaches from his phone the exact time you alert his presence. you're the last one out of the building. there's no reason for him to be waiting for someone, unless that person has left him standing. but you don't worry much and you continue on your way; perhaps, on another occasion, jaemin will be brave enough to confess that whenever you see him outside, it's him, waiting for you.

jisung. became popular without knowing how. college jackets, non-prescription glasses, karaoke nights. being shy makes him charming to cheerleaders. he's not very good at drinking, so he's always sprawled on a couch neglected by his friends at a party, always in your care out of obligation. quite lighthearted, sometimes you understand why people find him attractive. he'd go for whatever career his best friend chooses, he doesn't really care. he's gets talkative, and affectionate when drunk, telling you repeatedly how much he loves you and that he would choose you a thousand times over anyone. you only asked him if he wanted water.

renjun. painting or sculpture. quiet bus ride. childhood friends. shared headphones. in one way or another you distanced each other at college. now he has new friends, but keep waiting for you after class. don't go to parties much, he sometimes prefers to stay at home, he doesn't really like the idea of seeing you hook up with guys. he tucks you to bed when you knock on his apartment by mistake, and kisses you back even though you're drunk. or maybe you weren't. every time he has to paint or sculpture the model on top of the podium in the middle of the class, his gaze doesn't even pay attention to them, and he ends up drawing you.

[carn4g3]

Creepypasta Relationship HCs (2)

Characters - BEN Drowned, Tim Wright (Masky), Brian Thomas (Hoodie), Kagekao

Summary - A few more glimpses into how these creeps are as partners (w/ 50% more possessiveness !)

TWs - Descriptions of yandere behavior, cheating, stalking, possessiveness/jealousy and overall unhealthy relationships, mentions of kidnapping and violence, & very brief mentions of sex and smoking

Word Count - 3.5k (~700 to 900 each)

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first part <33 I know a few people requested these characters alongside some other new ones in the time it took me to write this. Just know that I'll have ones for any additional characters out sometime soon if you happened to leave a request along those lines :)

Part 1

BEN Drowned

Before I get to anything else, BEN is perpetually in his early 20s in my characterization of him.

He arguably has the most contact with people outside of Slender's influence simply by being an ipad kid. Because of that, he's most likely to form a relationship with someone if they are from the normal world. BEN doesn't necessary hate his colleagues or Slender, but they're all just so fucked up. Someone with even half the emotional baggage of a killer would be much better.

Now, it's pretty obvious that BEN isn't exactly the most palatable to the average human being. He has a million alternate accounts, all of which assume false identities, but he does have a select few that are more personal. On those accounts, he spends his time in various forums or chats where he can discuss his favorite games and other media. You two would probably connect on one of those shared interests, maybe even several, and he would be hooked from there.

BEN isn't the most patient person, but it would take more than a few months of talking before he truly built a connection with you. He'd prefer you reciprocate his feelings after that point, but it wouldn't deter him if you didn't. He's self aware enough to know that he needs to give you time to adjust to the fact that he's not the human man you thought you were talking to and that he crawled out of your very own computer screen. Though, back to his impatience, it's probably not nearly enough time.

The topic of monogamy with BEN would be a variable subject. He's well aware of the litany of ways partners define themselves given the somewhat questionable time he spends online. Ideally, BEN would see himself as unconstrained by a relationship, and, therefore, you should have an open end as well. Though, the less mature part of him sees you as something of a prize that should be reserved for him alone, and that's the side that takes over.

BEN wouldn't allow you to have romantic or sexual relationships with anyone other than himself. Meanwhile, the unspoken rule is that he could... if he wanted to. Does that mean he actually has other partners? No, not at all. It was a miracle you wanted to enter a relationship with him willingly, if you even did. There's no way in hell he's going to replicate that easily.

Despite all of that, he's not very outwardly possessive. He carries himself with a certain arrogance, it shouldn't be a shock that extends to his relationships. If you seem close to someone else, he still thinks you'll choose him in the end. At the same time, he's your most avid stalker. There are cameras damn near everywhere nowadays, and he doesn't even need to break a sweat to access their footage. In the situation that you're cooperative enough that he doesn't need to force you into his living space, he watches where you go. Even if you can't leave his side, he still tracks you one way or another. Nothing happens between you and another person that doesn't go unseen by him, and, if someone is too close, he'll pay them a "friendly" visit.

He shows affection the best through quality time and gift giving. Admittedly, his definition of quality time is almost exclusively reserved for playing games or showing you something on his plethora of devices. On occasion, he can suck it up and do something that you like: going outside is in his skillset... albeit reluctantly. As for gift giving, BEN is surprisingly good at getting things you like even though it seems like he's never listening. You might want to avoid asking how he got the money for such things, though. He won't give you a straight answer anyway.

Physical affection with BEN would be a bit strange. He's not entirely an apparition, but his form isn't totally corporeal either. Objects he's holding can phase through his grip at times without warning, though it's not quite to the point where he can pass through walls. When he lingers close enough to you, it feels almost like there's a faint, electrical buzzing on your skin. He can still touch you despite that, though your hair may start standing after a while. It's only when he lingers near you for too long that there's an issue. The static electricity building between you becomes pretty potent, resulting in an actual electric shock once he does make contact. BEN can be a little sadistic, but he's not particularly interested in hurting you. So, he tends to avoid touching you much or, if he does, it'll be pretty quick.

While BEN has a bit of a reason for falling short on physical affection, he has no good excuse for his lackluster words of affection. He thrives in making lewd comments on your body and that's it. The only way to get him to say he loves you is by saying it yourself. Even then, his response is pretty lacking, but it's not out of a genuine dislike for you. The way his ears turn a light pink, burning most red at their pointy ends, indicates he's at least a little fond of you.

Masky

Quick note because I can see this becoming confusing, I tend to refer to Slender as the Operator when writing for Marble Hornets characters because I think that's what they would call him. It's still the same old Slendy tho :)

Being in this fandom for so long, I can see the development of my frontal lobe in the form of my hcs of this man.

Tim is well into his 40s. He thinks a dating life is far beyond him, and, even if it weren't, he hardly knows what it's like to be a "normal" person anymore after 20 years as a proxy. While I say all that, if he were to find love, it would likely not be among the Operator's ranks. Tim despises the creature and everything it stands for, but he knows he's not strong enough to evade it. He finds respite in the areas outside of its power and is mostly likely to let go of his inhibitions for someone in that mental space.

He is not 100% ready to embrace a relationship, romantic or otherwise. The Operator isn't clueless to Tim's resent; it's why newer proxies like Kate and Toby are much more infatuated with the creature. To keep the less conditioned ones around, it has to extend its control a bit more uniquely. Tim knows that you're at risk of the Operator doing something to you, and he can't handle that. Because of that, his presence in your life isn't consistent. He's trying to prove to himself that he doesn't need you and, to the Operator, that you don't get in the way of his work. Though, Tim has never been the most strong willed. He comes crawling back to you every time.

While most of the others are willing to kidnap the person of their affections, I don't think Tim would quite get to that point. He prefers that you have your own separate life away from him. It makes him feel like you two are a normal couple, but he's certainly not a saint. Mentally stable people do not become proxies of the Operator, so Tim is riddled with some less than ideal possessive and controlling tendencies. He wants you to be dedicated to him and only him. Any other romantic or sexual relationships are completely out of the question for you, in his mind.

Does he quite monitor if you keep up your end of the bargain on that? No. When he disappears for months at a time, he does anything he can to erase you from his mind. Gaining an almost iron will, he won't even stalk you until he gets especially desperate, and that's usually the point when he shows up again.

When he is around, though, he expresses issues with your other relationships quite readily: platonic or even familial. Tim is very deeply insecure in himself. Who wouldn't be after finding out their existence alone has led to the deaths of many? He's buried all of that so deep at this point that even he hardly knows it though, so he calls himself a "traditional" man instead. He prefers your deepest affections to be saved for him, is that so wrong?

Even though his lifestyle is far from anything traditional, he sees himself as the provider. Regardless of your gender, you're the caretaker or the homebody. Like I said earlier, he's fine with you having a separate life-- it's the modern age after all, the least of his worries should be whether or not you work. But, he expects you to see him as a dominant figure that should be listened to, and he will follow through on that.

Anger management? Who the hell is that? Tim's job grates on him, physically and mentally. That's part of the reason he smokes a pack a day, and why he's with you as well. He tends to be at his most vulnerable and volatile when he turns to you, and those emotions are usually hardly a result of your actions. When Tim is angry, though, any little thing can set him off and make that anger entirely your fault. He'll tend to distance himself before things get physical, but verbal arguments are far from uncommon. One of these arguments is usually what prompts him to disappear back to the depths of the woods. But, if he's feeling a little less sorry for himself, he'll come back to you and give a begrudging apology. He does truly feel bad when he snaps at you and wishes it wouldn't happen. At the same time, he has a completely self-pitying and helpless approach to fixing that issue.

Surprisingly, he's big on physical affection. If he's with you, you're likely a little secret of his, so he can only get his time in after completing his daily tasks. He's tired as hell by that point, so he'll just sprawl out wherever you are. In bed? He's right behind you. Watching a movie? Your couch is comfy enough to sleep on. You're busy doing things? He can fall asleep standing if need be. He prefers if you go about initiating certain things like hugs and cuddles, but he can handle initiating a kiss or more.

When it comes to words of affection, on the other hand, just be happy with the few affectionate gestures you can get. It takes a war in his brain to so much as utter the words "sorry," you'd be shit out of luck to hear "I love you" or anything deeper than that. If he's feeling especially sappy, he might leave you a handwritten note. His handwriting is absolutely atrocious, worse than a doctor's script, and takes some analysis to decipher. Once you get it, that will be the closest glimpse at Tim's true feelings towards you.

Hoodie

I would like to think Brian is similarly still in touch with parts of his humanity as Tim is. But, that would be wishful thinking, wouldn't it?

Brian is a stalker first and a lover second. While normal people might unwind by watching TV or even reading a book, Brian takes similar joy in simply watching you from a far. He would find people outside of the Operator's control most interesting to watch, but it wouldn't matter at the end of the day. If you capture his interests, he'll watch-- maybe even take videos.

I imagine his main tasks under the Operator involve intel collection. He's highly skilled in slinking around in the shadows and not being caught, unless of course he wants to instill some unease in the mind of his victim. As a result, it's very unlikely you would notice him lurking. He's not there to unsettle you necessarily, but he might if he finds himself feeling a certain way. You're his most convenient entertainment at the end of the day, so it's not really in his desire to encourage you to get others involved or even move somewhere less convenient.

If you do happen to notice his presence, he's almost a little impressed at your perceptiveness. Not to mention, it makes the second phase of his plan a little easier. Brian may be content to watch endlessly, but he doesn't stop himself from exploring his curiosity to be included in your life. For him, he feels like he's known you forever. For you, he's crafted your interactions across the span of several weeks or even months to get you interested. With the added weight of a secret stalker on your psyche, it only draws you closer to his "welcoming" arms.

Brian isn't quite to the point where he sees himself as a sole provider. Once again, it's more interesting for him if you have at least a few interests beyond him. Like a beach episode in an anime, Brian sees your endeavors outside of your home as a welcomed (but temporary) change in setting. Not nearly enough people acknowledge that the Marble Hornets guys are from Alabama, in my opinion. It's not exactly the most progressive state, and Brian likely holds some toxic masculine values. He thinks of himself as a sort of "man of the house." You should listen to him, and he expects you to dedicate a lot of time to your relationship. In his mind, he dedicates a lot of time to you, even if most of that dedication is unknown to you.

Before he even went forward with inserting himself into your narrative, he was already interfering with the others in your life. He tries to act all stoic, but he is still very possessive at the end of the day. I've explained that some of the other characters find their possessiveness and jealousy rooted in their insecurities. Brian is certainly not immune to those feelings, but I think his issues stem from what I can best describe as an objectification of others. He views you almost like a hobby, something that he puts his free time into. He feels an almost bitter jealousy when others try to catch your attention with less than half of the pristine planning and attention to detail he executed. Just as he can stalk you, he can stalk others. He will make his watchful presence much more malicious and well known to the people he wants out of your life.

His go to forms of affection are acts of service and quality time. Ignoring that he sees stalking you as a form of quality time, he likes taking you on dates. His appearance isn't something too noteworthy to most people, so he can easily ditch the mask (if you even know he has one) and hit the town. He's a big fan of dinner and a movie or a little nature hike if you're interested in more outdoorsy activities like him. If you're more into stay-home dates, he'll happily watch a movie from the comfort of your couch and help you cook a dinner for two.

As for acts of service, he takes pride in the fact that he's a bit of a handyman. It's not like you can exactly get the usual help when you live secretly in the woods as a proxy of an immortal eldritch being. If you so much as breathe a word of issue about something in your home, he's on it. Carrying something heavy? He'll get it for you. It doesn't matter if you can do it yourself, he's going to do it now. Weaponized incompetence fears him. Asking Brian to do a task for you almost always ensures it will get done within the day.

He doesn't honestly care too much for physical affection. As I've already established, he's happy to do damn near anything you ask of him. If you want attention that way, simply ask. In general, he asks for very little in return. Although, when he does get around to asking for more, there's no guarantee he won't push your boundaries a little uncomfortably.

On the topic of communication, he's not very talkative and prefers to listen to you instead. Words of affection are few and far between, but he does have some quirks. It won't take an army for him to tell you he loves you, and he has a sleeve full of endearing nicknames to call you ("love" is his favorite).

Kagekao

Where do I even start with Kage.

He doesn't have any specific preference if you're a worker of Slender just like him or not. If asked why he does anything for the creature, he'll say it's simply because it's the "best" arrangement in this modern age. On the surface, that's a pretty reasonable explanation given that demons aren't exactly common or readily accepted members of society. However, the real reason is that Slender gets what it wants and is a hell lot more powerful than Kage. The demon begrudgingly does what he has to and tries to spend the rest of his time getting the fun he would prefer.

While some of the others might begin their interests by watching from afar, Kage pops into your life right off the bat. He finds entertainment in watching, but it's so much more interesting to have those interactions up close. Especially if you're not as familiar with inhuman entities, Kage takes pleasure in eliciting those responses of perplexion from you.

Living in a world largely populated by what he perceives as "weak humans," he's gained quite the ego. If you're not a demonic entity, he most certainly considers himself superior to you in all ways. Even if you are a demonic entity, he has a very specific criteria for what he considers to be a "real" demon and would still likely see himself as better. On the other hand, his underestimation of you tends to lead to interesting reactions in the case that you can pack a bit of a punch against the demon. (*cough* he's into it *cough*)

Like Tim, a relationship with Kagekao wouldn't ever really get a chance to be defined because he likes to bounce in and out of your life on a dime. Although, he certainly doesn't feel any guilt or even apprehension to pursue his interests in you. He recognizes you could get targeted by some less favorable attention (Slender being the worst), but he's interested in seeing how you'd react.

He is absolutely with other people in addition to you. I can't imagine he has many relationships that are too far past friends with benefits (everyone wants to fuck a demon, this app proves it), but I wouldn't put it past him. For that reason, he tends to turn a blind eye to your escapades. That being said, if your relationship with him borders on something more romantic, he expects you to have no other romantic partners.

Because he's not too consistently involved in your life, Kage isn't the most possessive on the list. On occasion, he'll express his opinions on the other people you spend your time with, but they're usually empty threats. If they really upset him, he'll eliminate them from your life. Does that mean death? Or simply scaring them off? You don't really want to know.

Like many of these guys, Kage isn't big on clear demonstrations of love like physical affection or words. His best show of affection is gift giving. He's not quite a kleptomaniac, but he does have what can only be described as a dragon's hoard of shiny trinkets. If asked, he won't say any of them are particularly special. Though, he does have a lengthy story for how he acquired each one, and he won't just readily give them out... except for you. Especially if he has matching sets of something, he'll tend to gift you one of the halves. You might not necessarily want or even like all the trinkets Kage gifts you, but you'll have to keep and display them. If not, Kage will do a bit of redecorating for you

Gotta let the brain worms speak on this one, he likes to offer you help, but he is not actually helpful. Kage thinks he can do practically anything. He's a demon in a human's world, after all. But can he actually follow through? No. Not at all. He gives up on tasks pretty easily when they stop being interesting. Even in the case that he goes through with completing the whole thing, you might have preferred to just do it yourself.

Don't get me wrong, his affections aren't all bad. He tends to think he's too good for physical affection, but he can be surprisingly sweet and comforting. Additionally, while he won't say it out loud, you might find that one of his gifts has an oddly romantic inscription etched on it. Trust, Kage makes up for his shortcomings.

[sbeep]

Ok ok ok, who is Dawn, the tiefling? Can we get some history on them? I hope I'm not misunderstanding. Love your work!

No misunderstanding, you got it! Dawn is my paladin of Lathander OC, originally made for a pathfinder game that didn't pan out but as all rivers flow to the sea, my fantasy characters inevitably end up with a D&D/Forgotten Realms incarnation.

He's an Asmodeus-bloodline tiefling who was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a Lathander temple, the House of the Morning, and the clerics there took it as a great omen and portent that they had been delivered the blood of their enemy to strike back against the forces of evil~~. As such, they named the baby in the light of Lathander and raised him to be The Unbridled Glory of the Dawn.

Educated, trained, and conditioned to uphold Lathander's righteousness from the moment he could hold up a training sword, a huge amount of responsibilty and purpose was placed on Dawn's shoulders. He was raised to thank Lathander every morning that he had been delivered into the light instead of the infernal pits of 'his father's house'.

He and Evaric were squires together at the House of the Morning in Cormyr and they grew to be the best of friends. The companionship was one of the few personal outlets Dawn had in his youth even if he was subject to much stricter tenets than his human friend. Every moment of Dawn's life has been planned out and ordained in stone and scripture as the fire that overcome evil's flames.

With his identity so interwoven with the church, when Evaric left Cormyr it was a deep and personal blow to Dawn. It set him up with a view that his life and destiny was going to be a very lonely one, and he should take as much joy in Lathander's good works as he can.

Dawn is good at fighting, protecting, every bit the fairytale paladin and capable of being that destined sword to strike the forces of evil, but he would so much prefer to minister weddings, care for parents and babies as they're born, or simply walk through a festival of the arts sponsored by the church. But there's always some enemy of good to strike down, and he'll do it so others don't have to.

Tidbits:

Dawn's horns were shaped by the clerics to grow into the shape of a rising sun. The process stunted them and they will never grown longer.

Dawn paints beautifully. He loves to illustrate and illuminate new poems and stories.

His ideal profession would be as a midwife, because medicine and Lathander's dogma of new beginnings and rebirth are where he's found most comfort.

He is one of the happiest and most optimistic characters in my little D&D collection. He has a place, a purpose and meaning to his life that he cherishes (even if he doesn't cherish how many people and prophecies try to tell him how to live it.)

Dawn can be driven to the point of obsession when he knows something needs to be put right or anything needs to get done. You need a fearsome charisma roll to convince him to back down.

He holds the title of Morninglord in the Order of the Aster.

There is a statue of Dawn within the House of the Morning that he always remembers being there, but no one has ever told him if it was made before his birth or after it.

[ayoogirlie]

Before I start writing angst, let's go with something pleasant. I just recently started reading and watching MASHLE which is why I don't knowe many characters well.

MASHLE MAIN 5 X GN!READER (separated)

Main 5 falling in love with you!

Mash

This one is oblivious. He doesn't realise he holds special feelings for you. I believe at first he could have though of you as sibling.

You're just as important as his father so why not? The three of you could be a fine family.

He would share creampuff with you... just like with others. Honestly, it would be difficult to notice he likes you in that way. This man is so indifferent or more like he forgot to train his face muscles.

The thing that betrayed his feelings is the fact that he has been following you everywhere like a little duckling his mom.

Whether you have classes together or not. If you had them together — he would sit with you or at least close to you. Some rather prefer to sit alone, which helps them focus. On the other hand, if you have separated classes, he would always escort you to the class and only leave after making sure you sat down.

Mash's main love language would be act of service. I don't find him as a touchy guy — he would respect your personal space. The most he would do is grab the snip of your sleeve to not possibly lose you in crowd. (I find it cute honestly, like he would be to shy to grab your hand, so he would be happy with bare minimum.)

Going back to act of services. I think you would have a special privilege — flavoured creampuff. Coffee, chocolate, strawberry, etc., whichever you want. This guy would take you to kitchen and make you bake them together. Unless, your cooking is hopeless and you can set the kitchen on fire, then you're simply watching him work and talk about the silliest things.

Mash would definitely listen to your rambling. Well, at least he will try to. At some point, he would pass out, if he was overflowing with many new information. Please, go slow with him.

When asking others for help with you, he first would try to figure things out himself. Only if he had no more ideas, would he ask his friends for love advices (most likely Lance or Finn).

This guy is so sweet yet so clueless. He loves you so clumsily and as a boyfriend he doesn't change his attitude much. He already treated you in special way. Well, maybe he'll get more intimate with you. I'll leave it to your imagination.

Finn

I simply adore this boy. His love is as innocent as he is. Literally, he would be all red and shy when he realised his feelings for you.

He would get nervous around you and every possible physical contact would make him explode. He's too focused to not make any mistakes in front of you, that he forgets to relax.

Well, it's not like he's always like that. His heart would explode at this point. There are some moments, when he is even sweeter than he is now. It's when you simply sit somewhere and do nothing, just enjoying your existence. He feels so calm that he wish those moments would last forever.

Finn likes DIY. So I bet he would make some for you, it might be jewelry, plushie or something more practical. Whatever you'll ask for he will do. (If it's in terms of his skills.)

If you ask him to teach you how to make some, he would be more than happy. Who wouldn't be happy to spend time with their crush?

He would carefully explain everything and help you if you have any difficulties with the project. Sometimes I wonder where he gets all this patience from. Whether you would get discouraged or curse how hard it is, he would try to calm you down and explain your mistakes.

When I'm still talking about teaching. Study session. I just see with my eyes of imagination. The two of you sitting in library beside each other and bending over books. It depends on you — whether he's teaching you some subject or you just enjoy your company.

Finn loves animals. I think, he would always tell you many random fact about them and won't stop talking, until he gets a hold on himself.

When he finally remembers himself, he will start apologising and feeling bad about being the only one talking. Then you kave to reassure him that you really don't mind and he can continue.

As a boyfriend, he treats you very well. People might say he's a perfect boyfriend material, but you can see how much he tries and I hope you do as much for him as he does for you.

Lance

Honestly, I can't imagine him giving someone else attention than his sister. Like this sis-con on has Anna in his head. So you can imagine how everyone was surprised when they noticed his unusual behaviour towards you.

And it wasn't some big change. No. It was more subtle. He was less strict with you than he is with others. Whenever you seemed sad because of his, sometimes mean, comments, he would apologise. (It took him a lot of courage to say this simple words.) He was more careful with his act to not sadden you.

I believe that after some time of knowing each other he would tell you about his sister and maybe if he happens to trust you a lot — about her illness as well.

He strikes me as a gentleman at some point. He would hold the door for you, help you with school work and follow you almost everywhere as if it was his duty.

Unfortunately for you, his sister will always be his number one, so unless you accept this fact, I don't think he will try to do anything with your relationship.

As well as it was with Finn, you two would have study session together. This guy is so clever that it would be stupid not to ask for help with the subject, spell or other thing you have difficulties with.

He truly admires you. You saw him in numerous embarrassing situations, for example when he was talking to Anna's pictures etc. Everyone' else would already start avoiding him. Maybe that's why he finds you as a perfect match for himself. Someone who wouldn't judge his behaviour and just accept his 'imperfections'.

Lance would respect your personal space and it would have to be you who initiates physical contact (mostly before your relationship). But he would place his hand on your waist with excuse not to let you bump into others.

He looks like the guy who would give other people, who are talking to you, nasty glare, when you don't look. It's not that he doesn't believe in his charm, it's just the fact that he doesn't like others being to close or touchy with you.

As a boyfriend Lance becomes more possessive and clingy. He would hug you from behind and gets touchy when you least expect it. Well, at least you're never bored.

Dot

It's easy to captivate this hot-headed guy's heart... if you're a woman of course. Male readers have it harder. But now we are talking about the stage he is already in love.

He would always boast to his friends about how he's going to marry you with no shame. Of course, always when you're absent. If by chance you will witness him saying it. He would want to hide under ground.

He would always scream at the person, you would give too much attention. He gets easily jealous, but he act like thata with every male that gets too much attention from others.

That's why you don't realise he holds any special feelings towards you. He still acts like he act towards women, so you don't think any special of the way he treats you.

I believe Dot would be touchy with you. Like put his arm over your shoulder or surprise you from behind. Honestly, if he would have ever touched you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable, as a man he is — he would never forgive himself.

In his eyes, he gives you special treatment. He doesn't play pranks on you and even with Lemon in room, he always focus on what you're saying and so on.

After some time, he gets more obvious that others notice his strange behaviour. He always stares at you, daydream about you two being together. His eyes are always following your person.

When you're close, he catch himself on enjoying your fragrance. Later of course, Dot will blame himself as well call himself a pervert. But you cannot be mad at him. He just can't get enough of you.

If he only could he would almost always hold you in his arms and never let go, while being too scared you might run away from him.

He is energetic, so as a boyfriend he would take you to many places. Date? Let's go to amusement park, if not, we have many other options. Of course, sometimes you two have home dates, where you just cuddle and enjoy eachother company.

Lemon

Congratulations. You just won over Mash and captured Lemon's heart. This turn of event surprised everyone, like literally everyone, even Mash.

Lemon would act similar like she did while having crush on Mash. She would be so delulu and talk about how the two of you are engaged and all (in fact you aren't... for now).

She would randomly grab your arm and hug it. People got used to seeing you this way. The two of you walking through the corridor, you look like those couples who always stick close to eachother.

She gets easily jealous of other people you're close with, expect for Mash, Lance, Finn and Dot, since she knows they won't try anything with you. When she feels threatened by someone, she would get closer to you or (in most cases) panic.

She would definitely share Cupid Gummies with you. Like she would buy it and almost immediately run to you only to give you some. She thinks of it as a special bond between the two of you.

Lemon blush a lot around you, that's for sure. You get too close? With red as tomato face, she would slap you. She gets a little violent when nervous, it's the fact you have to accept. But who can blame her? She's so happy to have you around that she cannot control her actions.

She's like a ray of sunshine, which is why whenever you're sad, she will try to make you feel better. Sometimes when words won't help, she just sits next to you. She wants you to know she will be always here for you.

You would get a lucky charm from her. One reason is that to keep you safe, other is to have her close to you. While making a design she would try to match with your taste. Like when she made Mash creampuff plushie, she would make something similar.

Whenever she would have problems with spells, she would go to you. Perfect excuse to spend time together! In exchange, she would teach you theory you would have problem with.

As a girlfriend, Lemon is very sweet. She wouldn't have to find excuses just to spend time with you. You would be often seen together eating lunch or walkings around while holding hands.

[bvidzsoo]

Stern, but sweet

✎ Teacher!San ✎

TW: nothing, just San being soft and hansome

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Helleur, lovelies! As you can see, those pictures are from San's latest YouTube live, which means I was inspired by it (dies). Also, it's the first time San bias wrecked me and I sincerely hope it stays that way, I've already got 3 official wreckers (dies again). Idk what this is, but he gave me cute aggression and at the same time the need to crawl up a wall...how is that possible? Anyways, enjoy, feedback is always welcomed!

so, you had been working at this school for a year now and you absolutely loved your job

the kids are lovely and you happened to grow attached to them quite fast, wanting to ensure they got the adequate education

but when it comes to your colleagues, well, they are quite boring

most of them are well past the age of 40 and they prefer going straight home after work, most of times refusing your invitations for a dinner between co-workers

and it also doesn't help much that you're a lot younger than most, making you feel left out when you hear them conversing about topics that you're either not interested in or just simply don't understand, like: raising children and maintaining a family at home

but when one of the homeroom teacher moves away and the school is in a frenzy to find someone fit for the job, a man around your age seems to confidently accept the challenge

Choi San, is his name

and my lord, when I tell you he's absolutely ravishing with his sharp eyes and soft looking skin

he looks like someone who would discipline you at the slightest misbehavior, and you don't know how to feel about it at first

but then he smiles and those cute dimples in his cheeks make you absolutely swoon over him, his aura so warm and lovely

you've come to know that Choi San is a man with a colorful personality

in his own class, he's very authoritative and stern, he doesn't allow his students to slack, and he doesn't accept any excuses as to why they haven't done their math homework

but San is an amazing teacher, and despite his subject being math, which many students tend to hate, those who he teaches just simply can't wait for his class to come

despite being stern and quite serious, he always cracks harmless jokes while explaining the hardest equations and theories, lightening the mood, and also helping the students focus

they love San in and outside of the classroom

whenever they have a problem, they know they can go to him as he will listen, giving them smart advice instead of rolling his eyes at them and telling them to get lost (like their last homeroom teacher had done so many times)

when there's a conflict, he first listens to both sides and then comes up with a solution (or punishment) that is fair and doesn't favor a student (like their previous homeroom teacher had done quite often)

but San, with his positive and warm energy, seems to also light up your office, the grumpy older teachers laughing a bit more often, a lot more open-minded with San here now

and well, you're a simple woman and you can't really help yourself when you start swooning over him (of course, when he's not watching you or paying attention to you) about just how perfect, and dreamy, he actually is

San was the one to approach you, and you quite liked that as he talked to you freely as if you had known each other for ages

you feel your most authentic self around him, never having to worry that he'll judge you or make fun of you behind your back (like you have caught a few of your fellow co-workers doing so before)

and seriously, San is just so good with children, that you can't help yourself as you develop a crush on him rapidly

and you hope he doesn't notice the way you gaze at him longingly when he's explaining something thoroughly to his students, or pats them on the head as encouragement, or even brings them candy so he can give it as a reward when they excel on their tests

and you certainly hope he doesn't see the way you stare at him for minutes at a time when you're both in your office, your cubicles next to each other, him busy typing on his computer and you busy...well staring at San

and you definitely do not absolutely die when one Friday he asks if you're doing anything later that night, eager to go to the new Amusement Park, saying he was thinking of inviting a few other colleagues as well since he's on good terms with them

you hate Amusement Parks, but if San loves them, well...you might grow to dislike them a little less

and so you definitely do not dress up all cute and spend two hours on your makeup and hair just because San invited you (and your colleagues, but you tend to ignore that part) out

what the two of you absolutely do not expect is for your colleagues to bail on you last minute, all of them saying the same excuse, "something came up, but we should go next time"

and perhaps you die a little on the inside, because you suddenly realize just how of an awkward person the both of you are, blushing and quickly avoiding eye contact when you catch the other one already looking

you don't want to tell San that you're afraid of heights and anything that goes with high speed when he points excitedly at the large roller-coaster, telling you how he's been waiting all day to go on it

you say nothing, you suck it up, because you're an adult and this is your work crush, and perhaps because the way San has been paying attention to you all evening, keeping people away from your body in the crowd as you moved around, or how without touching you, would hold his arm out behind your back when someone walked too close, made you feel rather comfortable in his presence

so, you brace yourself for the ride and certainly don't tremble as San helps you inside the cabin, sitting down next to you

once you're tied up and secured inside of it, is when you start praying to all Gods to give you strength so that you don't lose your mind during the ride

what you don't expect is San noticing how nervous and pale you are, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his as the ride takes off, making you clutch onto his hand for dear life

and the ride is so much fun that you're surprised how much you're enjoying it, but perhaps it's also because San keeps making you laugh and keeps talking to you, holding onto you

what you don't expect, once again, is him not letting go of your hand once you get off the ride, and instead he pulls you towards a photobooth, saying he wants to commemorate tonight's 'date'

oh, and you certainly don't faint when San decides to press a kiss against your cheek as the camera goes off for the last photo

seems like your work crush was crushing back on you, huh?

(seems like all of your coworkers knew about it and cancelled last minute on purpose as they've been secretly shipping the two of you and making bets about when you'd finally start dating)

Masterlist

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[loveemagicpeace]

🍬Uranus Energy🍬

Uranus may signify death through accident, injury, or natural disaster, but at least it never signifies the death-in-life that is characteristic of Saturn. Thus, although Uranus energies can be extremely difficult to live with, the measure of chaos that they introduce is essential for life. Life is to a great extent a balancing of the orderly forces of Saturn with the chaotic forces of Uranus. Each has its place, and each needs to be kept in check by the other. Uranus represents something very different, very unique. But can also be very strange and unfamiliar. Anywhere you have uranus in your house it shows where your life is the most different. Uranus energies coming too soon in life can cause a chronically erratic quality that prevents any kind of maturation and produces an individual incapable of taking part in the social contract. Such people are automatic rebels: they rebel simply to negate order, even when order is still useful. Whatever it may affect or symbolize takes the form of something unusual, far different from the everyday world.

🦋Uranus in 1st house- you might present yourself differently to others or feel somehow out- of step. You can play a role as outsider, bringing valuable insight to outmoded situations. Your appearance is unique and your beauty can also be original and different from others. These people tend to have a different perspective than the rest. They think and look at life outside the box. You usually don't like things related to systems, you prefer to stick to your own rules. This placement often indicates an unconventional approach to life. This suggests that you are a very individualistic person, who operates the best on their own.

🌱Uranus in 2nd house-Financial fortunes might be subject to sudden changes, perhaps a result of not playing it safe. Income might come from independent freelance sources. Your money can go up and down very quickly. You can also have a different way of making money. This can lead to a unique approach to finances, a deep understanding of personal values, and an unconventional path to self-expression. Another strength of this placement is its innovative, progressive energy. You have a different way of managing your money. You spend a lot of money on things that are more dreamy. You have a free way of managing money and it doesn't mean much to you.

🌱Uranus in 3rd house- Your mind works at lightning speed. You can be single-minded in the way you think, with a talent for presenting the opposite view. Your way of thinking is often contradictory and different from the others. Many times your thinking and manner can confuse other people. This can also mean that your relationship with relatives is distant and cold. Your thoughts are often ahead of their time, leading you to challenge established ideas and concepts. Uranus here can also cause sudden accidents on the road. You have to be careful how you drive.

💕Uranus in 4th house- Early independence may have been high on the agenda. You might opt to rent rather than buy, so you can change the scenery from time to time. At home, you can often be rebellious and do things on your own. The relationship with the mother can be more distant, cold and perhaps strange. You can move a lot and the moves are usually sudden. Uranus can make a home unstable and strange.

🍭Uranus in 5th house-You have potential for genuine creative originality, although your challenge might be to allow it to land and take form, because each idea is rapidly superseded by the next. Your dates are usually sudden, different, and you may always feel that this area is not so close to you. Many times people can suddenly surprise you (positively or negatively) - also many times you don't get an answer as to why something happened the way it did. You can also suddenly fall in love. Pregnancy can happen spontaneously and the child may be born different from the others.

🍸Uranus in 6th house- You probably need some excitement in your daily round. Being freelance might suit you, so you can set your own routine and timetable. You like work that is independent and free. Above all, what you need is freedom - you hate when someone is above you and tells you what to do. Your rebellious path can be most effective through work. But since this house also represents the physical body, health - it means that you may have some disease that is unusual or you may have some skin problems that are unusual.

🛼Uranus in 7th house- You may prefer to break up with someone who curtails your freedom. Partners may seem unpredictable, but perhaps an assertion of your independence is at the root of it. You can go into a relationship suddenly or end it suddenly. Many times you can attract people who are different, strange, unique, smart. You can have certain conditions that you like about the relationship and stick to them. Few meet your standards. But you need a lot of freedom. Uranus can mean that marriage can be sudden. The law, however, can be quite different from normal laws. It suggests an individual who seeks independence, freedom, and excitement within their intimate connections. Uranus in this house indicates that you seek the company of people who have similar views as you do.

🏹Uranus in 8th house- You can shine intellectual light into life's mysteries, bringing clarity and rational discourse. It might be important to you to maintain your distance in intimate encounters. Because it is also the house of transformation, rebirth & things connected with needles, blood also sugerirs. It also means that you can go for sudden surgery. It can also mean a sudden loss. But you can deal with a loss in a different way than others. They are likely to attract unconventional partners who challenge their views on intimacy and shared resources. It can lead to successful relationships, marriages, and beneficial business opportunities. On the other hand, it can also create disruption in relationships due to its unpredictable nature and an unwillingness to conform.

🥊Uranus in 9th house-Going to university or grappling with religious principles can bring enlightenment - but you might also be inclined to question, rejecting orthodoxy and tradition. You can be very rebellious when it comes to church, religion, other culture and you can also be very controversial about that. Cuz you can also have your own religion that you believe in. Your opinion about the world can be completely different and the places that interest you can also be very unusual. You can also travel to places that others would never go. Especially to unpopular places. You can also have a very unpopular opinion about the world things & around you.

🎱Uranus in 10th house-Bowing to authority is not your style and you may choose work which encourages your independent vision and allows you to change track when it suits you. You can also be very rebellious when it comes to authority figures. The career may be in constant motion, but this can make it difficult to identify with a profession. They are often innovative thinkers with a knack for science and technology, and they bring originality and ingenuity into their development efforts. This often leads to unique and inventive career opportunities, an exciting public image, and the potential for innovative and progressive thinking.

🏝️Uranus in 11th house-This placement offers a parodox: how to maintain your freedom and autonomy within a democratic context. You could play the role of agitator, bringing radical change. You can have a unique way of doing things and seeing them. Many times it is strictly seen that you have the characteristics of uranus. U can also have very unique group or friends. This placement suggests that you enjoy taking part in online discussions where you can connect with like-minded people. Uranus here suggests that you are not interested in everyday goals, craved by most people. You have unique visions for your life. But you can also have the feeling that you are quite different from your friends (can also be lonely placement).

🧚🏼‍♀️Uranus in 12th house-Perhaps you hide your unconventionality so as to fit in - reclaiming this can help set you free. Your radar for collective trends can put you ahead of your time. You can also struggle with spirituality, things that are hidden ,unconscious -this doesn't mean that you don't believe in it, but you can have complex believing into this stuff. They may have dreams, intuitions, or sudden insights that challenge societal norms and traditional beliefs. It often happens with this placement that your parents expected a child with a different type of personality. As a child, you felt that you have to live up to their expectations, but you were struggling on the inside. Social conventions annoy you, but you struggle to express this.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🎸❤️‍🔥🧚🏼‍♀️

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.2

Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another.

Author's note: Please, if possible, leave a small comment it really helps me to write more Part one _ Part two _ Part three

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

As the drama neared its final scenes, Mingyu and Y/N’s bond became undeniable. They had become a source of support for one another, both on and off the set. Late-night shoots turned into quiet conversations about life, dreams, and the pressures of their respective careers. Mingyu’s infectious laughter often coaxed genuine smiles from Y/N, while her steady presence grounded him in moments of doubt.

One evening, after wrapping up a particularly emotional scene, the crew decided to celebrate with a small gathering. Snacks and drinks were passed around as laughter filled the set. Mingyu, ever the life of the party, persuaded Y/N to join the group despite her usual preference for solitude.

“Come on,” Mingyu said, holding out a hand to her. “You deserve to celebrate too. You were amazing today.”

Y/N hesitated, but the warmth in Mingyu’s eyes made it hard to refuse. She let him lead her to the group, where his members and her groupmates were already mingling. The sight of both teams laughing and bonding was a rare moment of respite from their demanding schedules.

As the night wore on, Mingyu found Y/N standing off to the side, gazing at the stars. He approached her with a soft smile. “Not a fan of loud celebrations?” he asked.

“They’re nice,” Y/N admitted. “But I prefer the quiet moments like this.”

Mingyu nodded, leaning against the railing beside her. “Me too. Sometimes, it’s nice to just... be.”

They stood in companionable silence, the distant sound of laughter and music fading into the background. Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice barely audible. “You’ve made this easier, you know. Acting, I mean. I wasn’t sure I could do this at first.”

Mingyu turned to her, surprised. “You? Not confident? That’s hard to believe.”

Y/N chuckled softly, a rare sound that warmed Mingyu’s heart. “It’s true. But... you’ve helped me. More than you know.”

Mingyu’s expression softened. “I think we’ve helped each other.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. Mingyu felt a surge of emotion he couldn’t quite explain—a mixture of gratitude, admiration, and something deeper. Before he could overthink it, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

“For what?” Mingyu asked, his voice equally soft.

“For being you,” she replied simply.

The wrap party for Between Us was both celebratory and bittersweet. The months of filming had brought the cast and crew together in ways none of them anticipated. Mingyu and Y/N found themselves at the center of the festivities, both for their standout performances and their rumored closeness, which had become the subject of quiet murmurs among their peers.

As the night progressed, Mingyu found Y/N sitting at a small table near the edge of the event, away from the bustling crowd. She was nursing a glass of juice, her expression distant as she watched the celebration.

“Care for some company?” Mingyu asked, sliding into the seat beside her without waiting for an answer.

Y/N looked at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You never take no for an answer, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” Mingyu replied, grinning. “It’s the last night, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re going to sit here brooding while everyone else is having fun.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. Instead, she sipped her drink and turned her attention back to the crowd. Mingyu followed her gaze, watching as their castmates and group members laughed and danced together.

“I’ll miss this,” he admitted after a moment. “The energy, the people... everything.”

“Even the 3 a.m. call times?” Y/N teased.

“Okay, maybe not that part,” Mingyu conceded, laughing. “But I’ll miss working with you. You made this experience... unforgettable.”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The music from the party faded into the background as the weight of their shared journey hung between them. Mingyu leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a gentle tone.

“Y/N... do you think it’s possible for some things to feel too real? Like, so real it scares you?”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to his, her guarded walls momentarily lowering. “Maybe,” she said quietly. “But sometimes the things that scare us are the ones worth exploring.”

Mingyu’s heart raced, her words striking a chord deep within him. He hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to cover her hand with his. She didn’t pull away.

“Then maybe,” Mingyu began, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him, “it’s worth seeing where this goes.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, she allowed herself to smile—a real, genuine smile that lit up her entire face.

“Maybe,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

In the weeks that followed the wrap party, Mingyu and Y/N’s paths continued to cross. Promotional events for Between Us meant countless interviews, photoshoots, and appearances together. Their undeniable chemistry became a focal point for fans and media alike.

During one live interview, a reporter couldn’t resist bringing up their dynamic.

“The fans have been raving about your on-screen chemistry,” the reporter began, her smile mischievous. “Do you think that connection came naturally, or was it something you worked on?”

Mingyu and Y/N exchanged a glance, their silent communication perfected after months of working together.

“I think,” Mingyu said with a playful grin, “it’s all thanks to Y/N. She made it easy to connect.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “And Mingyu’s endless energy made it impossible not to.”

Their banter only fueled the rumors, but neither seemed to mind. Behind the scenes, their relationship continued to grow. Late-night phone calls turned into impromptu meetups, and what had started as a professional partnership blossomed into something deeper.

One evening, after a particularly grueling press schedule, Mingyu found himself waiting outside Y/N’s dorm building. When she emerged, bundled in a scarf and coat, she looked surprised to see him.

“Mingyu? What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I figured you could use some fresh air. Want to go for a walk?”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before nodding. Together, they wandered through the quiet streets, the cool night air wrapping around them. They talked about everything and nothing, their conversations flowing as naturally as the rhythm of their steps.

As they reached a small park, Mingyu stopped and turned to face her.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I know we’ve been dancing around this for a while, but I need to know... what are we? What do you want us to be?”

Y/N looked at him, her breath visible in the crisp air. For a moment, she seemed to wrestle with her thoughts, but then she reached out, taking his hand in hers.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” she admitted. “But I know I want to find out.”

Mingyu’s grin was brighter than the moon above them as he squeezed her hand. “Me too.”

And just like that, the lines between their drama and reality blurred, their story no longer confined to the screen.

The newfound clarity in their relationship brought Mingyu and Y/N a quiet sense of joy, though they knew the challenges ahead. As idols, maintaining privacy was like trying to keep a flame steady in the wind—delicate and uncertain.

The next morning, as Seventeen gathered in their practice room, Mingyu arrived with a spring in his step. His hyungs didn’t miss the change.

“Someone looks suspiciously happy,” Seungkwan teased, narrowing his eyes. “Did something happen last night?”

Mingyu tried to play it cool, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “What? No! I just... got a good night’s sleep.”

“Uh-huh.” Jeonghan leaned back with a smirk. “You’re a terrible liar, Mingyu. Spill.”

Before Mingyu could respond, Woozi chimed in. “It’s probably about Y/N.”

The room fell silent for a beat, and then chaos erupted.

“WHAT?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Are you dating her?”

Mingyu held up his hands, trying to calm the storm. “Okay, okay, relax! We’re... talking. That’s all.”

Seungkwan clapped his hands together, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Talking? That’s code for ‘we’re totally into each other but pretending it’s casual.’”

Mingyu groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can we not make this a big deal?”

“Mingyu, you’re dating Y/N, one of the most iconic leaders in K-pop,” DK said, patting his shoulder. “It’s already a big deal.”

Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own interrogation from her group members. Back at their dorm, her members were gathered in the living room, each armed with snacks and suspiciously pointed questions.

“So, you and Mingyu...” her main vocalist began, wiggling her eyebrows.

Y/N sighed, sinking into the couch. “What about me and Mingyu?”

“Don’t play coy,” her maknae said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’ve been glowing lately. Is he the reason?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded slowly. “We’re... figuring things out.”

Her members squealed in unison, their excitement barely contained.

“Y/N-unnie, I never thought I’d see the day,” her main dancer said, wiping an imaginary tear. “Mingyu is perfect for you! Tall, handsome, sweet...”

“Let’s not forget outgoing,” Y/N muttered. “Sometimes too outgoing.”

Her members laughed, but their teasing was warm and supportive.

“You deserve this, Y/N,” her second-in-command said, her voice sincere. “We’ll support you no matter what.”

As "Between Us" began airing, the public response was overwhelming. Social media buzzed with hashtags about the show, with fans praising the on-screen chemistry between the leads. Viewers flooded online forums, dissecting every scene and speculating about the real-life dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. Fan-made edits and memes spread like wildfire, and the drama's OST climbed music charts, further cementing its success. Critics also lauded the series for its heartfelt storytelling and the depth of the lead performances, adding to the growing hype. Viewers were captivated by the chemistry between the leads, and the drama quickly became a sensation. Naturally, this led to a whirlwind of promotional activities.

Mingyu and Y/N found themselves appearing on popular Korean programs to promote the drama. The First stop was Weekly Idol, where they were joined by just a few representatives from each group.

“Today, we have Mingyu, Y/N, and their castmates promoting their highly anticipated drama!” the hosts announced.

During a segment where they had to reenact memorable scenes from the drama, the hosts picked one of the kissing scenes. Mingyu and Y/N exchanged flustered glances as the cast erupted into cheers and teasing.

“Don’t worry, we won’t make you kiss again!” one of the hosts joked. “But you do have to act out the confession scene leading up to it!”

Mingyu cleared his throat, standing across from Y/N with mock seriousness. “Seo-yeon, I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you,” he said dramatically, holding his hand over his heart.

Y/N, struggling to keep a straight face, delivered her line with equal intensity. “But I’m not the person you think I am.”

The host called out, “Cut!” before anyone could take it too seriously, leaving the cast and crew in stitches.

During the Dance to Your Drama OST challenge, the hosts played the emotional soundtrack that accompanied one of their romantic scenes.

“Okay, Mingyu and Y/N, act out the scene while dancing!” the host announced.

Mingyu groaned but stood up, extending a hand to Y/N. “Shall we?” he said dramatically.

Y/N rolled her eyes but took his hand, and the two attempted a slow, awkward waltz while delivering lines from their confession scene.

As the music swelled, Mingyu leaned in closer, pretending to go in for a kiss, only for Y/N to push him away playfully. “Too much,” she said with a laugh, making everyone burst into laughter.

One of the most memorable appearances was on Radio Star, where the hosts wasted no time diving into the rumors swirling around Mingyu and Y/N.

“So, Mingyu, Y/N, fans are saying your chemistry in the drama is off the charts. How much of that is acting?” Kim Gu-ra asked bluntly.

Mingyu coughed, glancing at Y/N, who remained composed. “Well, I think we both worked hard to make it convincing. It’s all thanks to Y/N’s talent.”

Y/N nodded graciously, her cool demeanor intact. “And Mingyu’s enthusiasm definitely helped bring the characters to life.”

The hosts weren’t satisfied, though. “But what about off-screen? Any moments where the line between acting and reality blurred?”

Before either could answer, Y/N’s groupmate, seated nearby, interjected with a laugh. “They rehearse a lot! Sometimes too much!”

The studio erupted into laughter, and Mingyu leaned back in his chair, groaning playfully. “Can we talk about the drama and not my life?”

On Running Man, the two groups competed in a hilarious relay race challenge. Mingyu and Y/N were paired up again, leading to plenty of lighthearted banter.

“Mingyu, carry Y/N on your back for the next part!” the PD called out.

Mingyu crouched down, grinning. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s win this.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before climbing on. “If you drop me, I’m quitting the drama,” she joked, her voice deadpan.

“Noted,” Mingyu replied, taking off with surprising speed as the other teams cheered them on.

By the end of the episode, the two had managed to win the final challenge, earning a golden trophy.

The promotional tour culminated in a live fan meeting, where fans had the chance to see the cast perform a skit from the drama. Mingyu and Y/N recreated one of the lighter, comedic moments between their characters, drawing laughter and cheers from the audience.

Afterward, during a Q&A session, a fan asked, “What was the most challenging scene to film together?”

Mingyu grinned. “For me, it was definitely the rain scene. It was so cold, and I kept worrying about Y/N’s injury.”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening. “For me, it was the confession scene. Mingyu kept making me laugh during rehearsals.”

The audience cooed, clearly enamored with their dynamic.

As the event wrapped up, Y/N and Mingyu stood side by side, waving to the fans. Despite the chaos of promotions, the growing connection between them was undeniable—not just on-screen, but off-screen as well.

They also appeared on "Knowing Bros," where the playful banter and games highlighted their growing camaraderie. The hosts couldn’t help but tease them about their undeniable chemistry.

As the introductions wrapped up, the hosts began playfully teasing.

“Welcome to the show!” Kang Ho-dong greeted as the two groups entered the classroom set. The idols bowed politely, though their energy was already through the roof.

As soon as everyone settled, Lee Soo-geun turned to Mingyu with a teasing smirk. “So, I heard you two have been filming a drama together. What’s it like acting with Y/N?”

Mingyu, caught off guard, scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well, it’s been... interesting. She’s very professional, and I’ve learned a lot from her.”

“Professional?” Seo Jang-hoon raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously neutral. Isn’t she also intimidating?”

The cast burst into laughter as Y/N leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Y/N-ssi,” Heechul started, a sly smile on his face, “you’re usually so reserved, but in the drama, we saw another side of you. Did Mingyu help with that?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the insinuation but played along. “He helped…by staying out of my way when I needed to focus.”

Mingyu gasped in mock betrayal, eliciting laughter from everyone. “That’s not true! I was a model colleague!”

“Model colleague or model boyfriend?” Min Kyung-hoon chimed in, sparking a fresh wave of teasing.

The teasing didn’t stop there. One of the hosts brought up a behind-the-scenes clip where Mingyu was helping Y/N with her crutches, calling him her “personal assistant.” The other cast members erupted in laughter, and Seventeen’s members joined in the fun.

“It’s not just the crutches,” Seungkwan revealed with a smirk. “He even brought her favorite coffee every morning!”

Y/N shook her head, trying to stifle a laugh. “He’s just a good colleague.”

“Oh, come on, unnie,” one of Y/N’s members interjected, her tone playful. “You were smiling a lot more on set after those coffee runs.”

Mingyu grinned, leaning into the joke. “What can I say? I aim to please.”

The hosts pulled up clips from the drama to get their reactions, starting with the romantic confession scene. As the clip played, the studio was filled with exaggerated gasps and over-the-top commentary.

“Look at his eyes!” one host exclaimed, pointing to Mingyu’s intense gaze on-screen. “That’s not acting!”

Mingyu laughed, his face turning red. “It’s called being in character!”

The hosts then turned to Y/N. “And you, Y/N-ssi—your face looked so real during the confession! Was it because Mingyu said the lines differently than in rehearsals?”

Y/N smiled slightly, the corners of her lips twitching with amusement. “He added his own flair, I’ll give him that.”

“Flair, huh?” Heechul teased. “Sounds like he’s been practicing confessions off-set!”

Their group members joined in the fun. Seventeen’s Seungkwan exclaimed, “He practiced on us! He’d recite his lines, and we’d all groan because it was so cheesy!”

Meanwhile, Y/N’s group leader added, “She’d watch the clips back and say, ‘He’s not bad at this.’”

The studio erupted into laughter, leaving Mingyu and Y/N flustered but smiling.

The hosts then shifted gears into the games segment, pitting the guests against each other. The highlight was a reenactment challenge where pairs had to act out iconic scenes from Between Us.

Mingyu and Y/N were up first, tasked with recreating the confession scene.

“You have to say the lines exactly as you did on set!” Heechul insisted, pointing at Mingyu.

Mingyu stepped forward, clearing his throat dramatically. “Y/N,” he began, his tone exaggeratedly romantic, “I don’t want this to end here. Not us.”

Y/N tried to hold back her laughter as she responded, mirroring her line from the drama. “I’ve spent so long building walls around myself…”

But before she could finish, one of the hosts interrupted. “Wait, wait! That’s too serious! Do it like a rom-com parody!”

This led to a chaotic reimagining of the scene, complete with exaggerated gestures and over-the-top delivery, leaving everyone in stitches.

Kang Ho-dong clapped his hands. “Let’s start with a talent show to warm up! Y/N, I heard you’re great at emotional acting. Can you show us?”

Y/N nodded, maintaining her composure. She performed a flawless, tearful monologue from the drama, impressing everyone.

When it was Mingyu’s turn, Lee Soo-geun teased, “Are you going to cry like Y/N or show off those muscles instead?”

Mingyu grinned. “I’ll do a romantic confession!”

He turned dramatically toward Y/N and recreated a confession scene from their drama. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you,” he said with exaggerated emotion.

Without missing a beat, Kang Ho-dong shouted, “KISS HER!”

Mingyu froze, his face turning red, while Y/N burst into laughter. “That’s not part of the script!” she exclaimed.

Seo Jang-hoon teased, “Mingyu, are you embarrassed? You didn’t seem shy during the actual kiss scene!”

In this game, Mingyu and Y/N had to guess iconic lines from their drama based on hints.

The first hint was for Y/N: “It’s from the first episode. Mingyu says this while holding your hand.”

Y/N thought hard before confidently reciting the line. “You can’t push me away every time I get close to you!”

The members applauded, but Kim Heechul teased, “She remembered it so quickly! Mingyu must’ve practiced it with her hundreds of times.”

Next, it was Mingyu’s turn. The hint was: “This line happens right before the big rain kiss scene.”

Mingyu scratched his head, pretending to struggle. “Uh... was it, ‘I can’t lose you again’?”

Y/N smirked. “Wrong. It was, ‘I’d rather get drenched in the rain than lose you.’”

The members roared with laughter. Kang Ho-dong exclaimed, “She even remembers your lines better than you!”

Mingyu shrugged with a grin. “I was too busy focusing on not slipping in the rain.”

The cast played a game where they had to pass a romantic pose down the line.

When it was Mingyu and Y/N’s turn, the pose required the “couple back hug.”

Mingyu hesitated but eventually wrapped his arms around Y/N’s shoulders, standing awkwardly. “Is this okay?” he asked nervously.

The cast burst into laughter, with Lee Soo-geun yelling, “You’ve done more romantic things in the drama! Why are you acting shy now?”

Y/N laughed and quipped, “He’s only good when there’s a camera rolling.”

To make it more challenging, the hosts added a twist: “Now, Mingyu has to whisper a romantic line into Y/N’s ear while holding the pose.”

Mingyu groaned but leaned closer and whispered dramatically, “I’ll never let go.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “That’s from the Titanic, not our drama!”

During the iconic lie detector game, the hosts had prepared questions to stir up mischief.

Kang Ho-dong asked Mingyu, “Did you ever get nervous around Y/N while filming romantic scenes?”

Mingyu confidently replied, “No.”

The machine buzzed, indicating a lie, and the entire cast roared with laughter. “Busted!” shouted Seo Jang-hoon.

Mingyu defended himself. “I wasn’t nervous! Maybe the machine is broken!”

Next, it was Y/N’s turn. Heechul asked, “Did you ever think Mingyu was charming while filming?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before saying, “No.”

The machine buzzed again, and the cast went wild.

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, smirking. “See? I knew it!”

Y/N sighed but smiled slightly, her reserved demeanor cracking. “I said it as a joke!”

They played a telepathy challenge where Mingyu and Y/N had to pick the same answer without discussing.

The first question was: “What’s the best scene in the drama?”

Both held up their boards at the same time. Mingyu wrote “Rain kiss,” while Y/N wrote “Confession scene.”

Heechul teased, “Mingyu, you’re such a romantic! Y/N, what’s wrong with the kiss?”

Y/N chuckled. “Nothing’s wrong, but I think the confession had more emotional depth.”

The second question was: “Who messed up more takes?”

Both wrote “Mingyu” without hesitation, causing the cast to laugh hysterically.

“I can’t even argue with that,” Mingyu admitted. “I’m clumsy, okay?”

The cast decided to test Mingyu and Y/N’s teamwork through the Whisper Challenge.

Mingyu wore noise-canceling headphones while Y/N had to mouth famous lines from their drama.

The first line was, “I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you.”

Y/N mouthed it slowly, but Mingyu misunderstood. “You... want... rice?!” he shouted.

The cast erupted in laughter. “This is the most unromantic scene ever!” exclaimed Kim Heechul.

When it was Y/N’s turn to wear the headphones, Mingyu said, “I’m falling for you every day.”

Y/N guessed, “Are you... calling me your bae?”

Mingyu turned red, and Kang Ho-dong shouted, “That’s close enough! Are you his ‘bae,’ Y/N?”

Y/N laughed it off, trying to maintain her composure, but the teasing didn’t stop.

By the end of the episode, the cast teased them relentlessly, but the chemistry between Mingyu and Y/N shone through, both in their playful banter and subtle moments of sincerity. Fans watching the episode were thrilled by how natural their interactions felt, further fueling excitement for the drama.

After the games, the show ended with the Knowing Bros hosts offering their heartfelt congratulations.

“You two have amazing chemistry on and off-screen,” Kang Ho-dong said sincerely. “It’s no wonder the drama is such a hit!”

As they bid farewell, the episode had fans buzzing online. Memes of Mingyu’s mock confession, Y/N’s witty comebacks, and their synchronized game play quickly trended, further fueling excitement around their drama.

[itsa-not-me]

So this is NOT related to my previous Alien Konig post. It's separate from that.

...I don't know what I wrote y'all

content warning

alien fucking, breeding, tentacles, breeding, oviposition, two peens, the lost of my sanity. This is UNHOLY

"Research Log # 593; Now that we've been able to confirm the efficacy of Nikto's translation devices we've been able to communicate with the human more efficiently than with the simple sound board. She has confirm that she is a brooding member of her species, and that she is willing to participate in the Counsel's interspecies breeding proposal. Despite what Krueger says I am not preening over the fact that the human stated she would only participate with myself. It just shows that the human is able to distinguish who is the superior sire." "Log # 595; All lab tests are complete. Human is surprisingly more willing to allow lab draws when we can explain what they are for. Happy to report that so far tests show there should be no danger to either of our species during copulation.

Note; Human does not like being called Human, but her Earth name is not possible for us to pronounce in our language. She has agreed to the alias of Nebula."

"Log # 596; Due to our species faster gestation time, and the fact that we do not bear live young, Nebula as agreed to try carrying a fertilized clutch first. I am eager to see how many eggs she will be able to carry."

"Log # 597; Nebula has told us an interesting fact, after a brooding human's bleeding cycle there is a window where they are extremely fertile and is an ideal time for mating. They call this 'ovulation'. According to Nebula her ovulation period is starting shortly. We will begin copulation experiment point one shortly.

Note; I wonder if this ovulation may explain the rather...hungry looks she has been giving me of late."

Konig wasn't nervous, no matter what Krueger tried to say. Kruger was an idiot who kept getting rejected by Nikto. If anything Konig was...brimming with scientific curiosity. Yes that's what it was. He was going to be making important discoveries. With Nebula.

He could admit that at first he had found her of little interest, simply a spare brood human for their external breeding study incase one failed to thrive. But then they had discovered so many little things that made her interesting, unique. It had become difficult to see her as only a study subject. And there was the fact that she always seemed to prefer Konig to the others.

When she was allowed out of the containment area he was the one she choose to follow around the lab. His protection hood was the ones she stole when Krueger had foolishly let her wander the personal quarters. He was the one she would pull towards her nest of bedding when she wished to have a sleep companion, which seemed to have been most nights.

It was his thigh that she chose to use for her pleasure when the Turlian pods ended up acting like a strong aphrodisiac.

So of course it would make sense for Nebula to choose him to participate in the breeding clinicals with. Besides he was the ideal candidate when compared to Krueger.

With that in mind he tried not to think about how the lab felt a little cooler without his usual protective hood and tunic on. Since they had come to a compromise of only having a recording feed instead of Krueger and Nikto as observers, Konig had decided to undress in the lab, trying to ignore the feel of Nebula's stare as he did so.

He knew she had been curious about his physical form, the number of times he'd felt her hands slide along his chest and abdomen at night, exploring the skin and muscle there was a clear give away. Let alone the number of times he had to pull her hands away from under his protective hood. The last time she had even licked the lubricating mucus from his tentacles off of her fingertips! And this was before they even knew if it was safe for her! Really did human's have any survival instincts?

With a huff he turned to look down at the little human, who was already looking up at him with that same wide eyed curiosity. He wasn't sure what he anticipated her reaction would be, but once again reaching for his tentacles wasn't it.

"Why are you so fascinated by my face?"

Nebula couldn't help but grin as the ear piece Nikto had made relayed Konig's words to her. Before she always had to guess with what his body was saying. And that was hard to tell sometimes with the hood and loose drape he chose to wear.

"Because it's a pretty fascinating face."

Really all of him was fascinating. From his height, to how big and wide he was, not to mention the less than human details. There was the obvious face full of tentacles, all circled around what she assumed was his mouth. They all seemed to move independently of each other and the last time she had tried the sticky substance that seemed to constantly coat them well...She'd had exes who had tasted worse in her mouth.

Then there was his skin. It was so pale he was practically translucent in some spots. One night she had spent hours tracing the veins she could see running up and down his inner arm. Plus it seemed thicker than her own. Almost like rubber but less unpleasant to rub against.

And then there was between his legs. At first glance it looked like Konig lacked anything used for 'mating' as the alien persisted in calling it. Nebula had seen enough penises in her life time to know where they were on a human, but Konig lacked that, and a vagina. Instead it was almost like he was a Ken doll, only instead of being smooth there were two...plates, she'd say for lack of a better word, that met and had a seam down the center. Maybe they'd part to reveal these phalluses Konig had talked about earlier. Like that one movie.

She could feel herself start to get wet at the idea of what could be instore for her.

She must have been staring a little too hard because Konig shuffled his weight awkwardly, drawing her attention away from his vent and back to his face. Even being so pale it seemed that Konig's species didn't blush like human's did. Instead a flush or warming of the face his tentacles fluttered a little more exuberantly, lifting high enough at times to reveal a curved little beak. She probably shouldn't have found that so cute. For all his boasting that he was the superior sire, when it came to actually siring he seemed a little nervous. That was something she could certainly find cute.

"Wouldn't you say I'm a little fascinating too?"

Konig would never admit that he found her intense study of him a little intimidating. Instead he was simply being considerate to wait for her to literally welcome him with open arms, turning around as if to give him an unobstructed view of her body. Which he could admit he fully appreciated.

He stepped into her personal space as she turned to face him, hands coming back down to her sides, fingers tapping against her thighs. Perhaps she was a little nervous as well.

"I would say I am starting to find humans more fascinating...Now tell me, how do most humans start their mating rituals?"

He watched as she tilted her head in consideration, little pink tongue coming to lick her bottom lip.

"Well a good one typically starts with kissing?"

"And that would be?"

"It's when we touch lips, even tongues."

"And it is pleasurable for you?"

"If done properly."

Konig hummed in consideration as he studied the shape of her mouth. It looked so plump and soft compared to his beak. He didn't quite think that she'd enjoyed getting poked with it.

"I do not have lips. I do not know if I would be good at kissing."

"Well...maybe I'll just kiss you then?"

Before he could argue the semantics of it she was touching the closest tentacle to her, bringing it up to purse her lips against the side of it. It certainly wasn't an unpleasant experience. Even if the translator couldn't exactly explain what the trilling from his chest meant, it seemed she got the idea as she continued to pepper kisses along the length of his tentacle, ending at the tip.

It wasn't scientific curiosity that urged him to push past her plush lips. It was the way she stared up at him with dark eyes. And oh he was glad he listened. He couldn't resist exploring more as she opened her jaw, giving him more access. Her tongue was warm and soft, not a texture he was expecting but enjoyed as he slid his tentacle against it. Brushing the tip against the roof of her mouth made her squirm, an airy chuckle leaving her as he pulled back.

"That tickles."

"Does it normally?"

"Don't know. Haven't had a tentacle there before."

That pleased him to hear. That this was new for her, that he was the first.

"I found that version of kissing pleasing."

"I'm glad. I'd be upset to hear I'm a lousy kisser."

Without thinking he was cradling her head between his palms, absentmindedly amazed at how tiny he was compared to him.

"I would like to do it again."

"So kiss me then."

Konig let his curiosity get the better of him, the tip of one tentacle tracing the shape of her lips, pushing and dragging against the lower lip to see how it grave under his force. Again that little pink tongue darted out like it was second nature, only this time also licking over his tentacle. The sensation caused the beginning stirring of his phallus.

He pushed back into her mouth, less exploratory and more simply wanting to enjoy the feeling of her tongue against him. He wasn't expecting the suction around him, cheeks hollowing as it seemed she tried to pull him further into her. With a growl he withdrew, leaning down so he could be closer to her eyes, those sweet alluring eyes of hers.

"Little Nebula, is that also a part of kissing?"

He should have known then from the little smile she gave him, that he was in for unexpected discoveries.

"It's a next step after kissing."

Logically, she should be nervous. If she had any survival instincts she wouldn't have been excited about the restrained strength she could feel in the way Konig held her face. She shouldn't have enjoyed feeling his tentacles tracing along her throat and collar bone. But she did. She could feel her nipples start to tighten as a few wayward tentacle tips drifted further down her chest.

"What else comes after kissing?"

She realized she could take it anywhere, that Konig was allowing her to take more of a lead, to set the pace. Her hands drifted up to hold onto his wrists, just a grounding point as she thought about what it was she wanted next. She wanted to feel his tentacles on more of her body, in a specific space if she was honest. And she wanted to explore more of him.

"Humans have foreplay. All sorts of ways to turn their partner on before they fuck."

"And how would you like me to foreplay you?"

Konig seemed almost distracted as he focused on the tentacles that were exploring the swells of her breasts. He could feel the plush give of her skin, how her nipples seemed softer. He looked down in curiosity as he felt them tighten. The little buds seemed to beg attention and who was he to deny that?

He could feel her nails dig into his wrists as twin tentacles wrapped around each nipple, starting with the lightest squeeze he could manage. He kept adding pressure until he heard her sigh, resting more of her weight into his hands and frame.

"This is a pretty good start."

With her approval he continued his exploration of her breasts and nipples, seeing how hard he could squeeze and pull before she would squirm in discomfort. Whenever he found a limit he'd ease back and brush against the poor flesh in apology, before going back to what seemed to be acceptable pressure or strength. He had to move his hold from her face to her ribs to keep her steady, finding the way she would squirm in his grasp cute. It made him want to explore more parts of her.

"Konig..."

And judging from the way she whined his name, he could only assume that his little human felt the same.

She normally wasn't one to enjoy having her nipples or breasts played with, but knowing that it was Konig that was doing it? That he was paying extra attention to the way she'd react to every way his tentacles touched her? It set her nerves on fire. It also sent her on a desperate need to feel him else where.

Thankfully he didn't keep her waiting when she called for his attention, focus shifting from the back arching movements back to her face. It was intoxicating to have that gaze trained on her.

"Is there something you need little star?"

She didn't care if how eager she seemed as she nodded, taking one of his hands to pull him back towards her bed pile. She wanted a lot.

"Wanna to show some other things to do. And I wanna touch you too."

Konig let her pull him to the nest, but didn't expect the strength she had to push him into it. He didn't loose his breath when he landed on his back, but he did when he looked up at her and watched as she stood over him.

"I am at your mercy then."

She could feel nerves creep up the back of her neck as she joined him, tongue thick as she tripped over her words to explain.

"Sometimes humans can pleasure each other with their mouths at the same time."

That drew a curious noise out of Konig, feeling his own self lubricant start to seep from the slit in his vent.

"And how do they do that?"

"It's called sixty-nineing. Typically one partner is on top of the other and their kind of laid in opposite directions?"

He tilted his head back to look at her as she stood above him, her eyes roaming up and down his form. He would have teased her for it if it wasn't for the fact that his own gaze traveled up her legs and froze when it came to the apex of her thighs. It seemed like human's could also self lubricate.

Only hers looked so much more appealing than his, in his opinion.

"I think I may need a demonstration of this."

She seemed a little in a daze as she nodded, looking back at him once before carefully trying to lower herself to her knees, not wanting to hurt him. Once she was there it was an entirely new world of discovery for Konig.

The way her sex opened to him was almost beautiful. Each lip seemed to call his attention with the way they were puffy, drawing his attention inward. His tentacles were already wrapping around her thighs, crawling upward as he took in the way a small nub above her not cloaca seemed to come out from behind it's hood, like it was saying hello and begging for attention.

"So typically a partner would stimulate your sex with their mouth? Like kissing?"

She sounded a little breathless as she rested her weight on either side of his hips, already feeling herself start to get excited when his tentacles would squeeze her thighs.

"Y-yeah. With their lips and tongue and stuff."

The hum he gave was thoughtful, watching her not cloaca seem to clench in excitement. It was rather cute when it did that.

"Should I treat it like I did your mouth earlier then?"

She couldn't help the moan she gave then, hips pushing back as if to open herself further for him. That was exactly what she wanted him to do.

"Yeah. Yeah. With as many as you can."

The desperation in her voice caught him off guard, but who was he to deny her? She had been so sweet for him. He circled his hands around her thighs, used them as leverage to pull her closer to him so his tentacles could have free range to explore.

It was exactly what she had been wanting since she had realized what had been hiding under his hood. Konig's tentacles felt firm as they pushed through her sex, his natural tackiness giving him a drag that felt good against her clit as her own slick started to make it easier for him to glide against her.

And then she felt the first tentacle push into her.

She didn't care about how loud she moaned as she tried to push back into the feeling. She just wanted to feel more of him fill her. But the grip he had on her thighs was too strong, keeping her immobile and at the mercy of his curiosity.

And curious Konig was. Her own slick felt silky, nothing like the thin lubricant he could make. He wanted to coat every tentacle in it, in her. Rubbing against the little nub he noticed earlier seemed to please her, given how her back arched and the noise she had made as he rubbed his tentacle back and forth over it. But actually having a tentacle enter her? It seemed to give her a new level of pleasure he hadn't anticipated. It gave him a level of pleasure he hadn't anticipated.

The sensation of sliding into her was only as similar to her mouth that it was a warm and wet sensation. But sliding into her sex, her...cunt as she had called it once? It was better. She was so soft and as soon as he was moving she was clamping around his tentacle, squeezing around him in a way that her earlier action couldn't compare. Plus it made more of that tempting slick of hers.

As he penetrated her over and over again with his tentacle, slowly as to savor every feeling, he let himself explore, pressing the tip of it against all of her walls with each pass. It thrilled him to feel how she expanded around him. He could see why she had said to use as many tentacles as he could fit, and he would try it, but the back of his mind made him wonder if she was capable of more than one clutch.

But that was getting a head of himself.

She knew she was suppose to be returning the attention that Konig was giving her, that it was the point of sixty-nineing, but she honestly didn't know if she could do much more than lean her head against his hip and moan.

He had followed her please so wonderfully, stuffing one and then another tentacle into her. The stretch was so good, maybe almost painful, but it was the way that his tentacles filled her that was making her wetter. It was like they were taking all the space inside of her so they had no choice but to press and rub against every spot that lit up her nervous system like fireworks.

A third one started to push it's way in, fighting to take what little space was left and she was sure she was going to loose her mind. At least he had been consistent on her clit. She didn't know if she would have survived with her sanity if he chose to explore it with the same voracity.

In an attempted to try to be a good partner, a good mate, she ran her hand along his hip, using the feel of his skin to tell when she had found his vent. It was a little rougher to the touch, ribbed in a way that would make her curious about later. She could feel the growl Konig made in his chest as she rubbed her hand along the slit, surprised to feel it also be wet.

She brought her fingertips to her lips quickly, stealing a taste before Konig could distract her with a particularly cruel flick. Just like everything else she had tasted from him, it was something she found pleasant, something she'd want to try to have more of...but later.

Konig seemed to get the idea of alternated thrusting of his tentacles because it rocked her for a moment, making her whimper and dig her nails into his inner thighs to stay grounded. She refused to be distracted.

Gulping for breath she went back to what she had been exploring earlier, rubbing her fingers along the seam of his vent. She treated it like she would her own cunt, trying different pressures of her fingertips to see what would make him wetter, what would part him for her.

A purring sound started to fill the next as Konig allowed himself to enjoy her touch and ministrations. He could feel himself relaxing, tentacles becoming a little lazy as his vent started to open, readying for his phalluses to make their appearance.

He must have been feeling good because his grip on her thighs relaxed and it allowed her a little leeway to pull herself up further to actually come face to face with his vent. She wouldn't say it was the prettiest cunt she had ever seen, but it was probably the prettiest alien non cunt. She couldn't see Konig's phalluses yet, instead the inside of his vent being filled with these bud like nubs. It was almost like seeing dozen's of little pale blue clits.

And she knew what to do with clits, regardless of color.

Gathering saliva in her mouth she leaned down quick to drag her tongue along his vent from top to bottom in one long, slow pull.

Konig had not been ready for the pleasure that exploded behind his eyes. With a roar he grabbed her hips and pulled her back, simply wanting to stop the immediate onslaught of overstimulation. Only he also pulled her back onto his tentacles. Hard.

The orgasm that caught her was quick and blinding. She hadn't been prepared to suddenly be so full of his tentacles, or for them to suddenly writher inside of her like they were all independently trying to press as hard as they could into every pleasure spot. And maybe she could have resisted that, but the tentacle that had been rubbing her clit had suddenly wrapped around it and squeezed? It was over for her.

It was so much. It was practically dizzying the way his phalluses sprung from his vent, both spilling copious amounts of lubricant. Konig was still reeling from the pleasure, but then to hear her shout as she did, and to suddenly rain her slick down on him? To have it fill his beak and slide down his throat? Overwhelming wouldn't begin to explain it.

It was as if something switched within him. Something that told him that he needed to breed this human as many times as it took. To fill her over and over again. To fuck her until they both lost sense of who they were.

If the orgasm was dizzying, having Konig pull out and start flipping her around until she was under him? It left her spinning. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped at suddenly being so empty, cunt still pulsing in pleasure. She was practically teary eyed as she looked up at her alien, who loomed over her, eyes like a predator ready to devour her.

"I am sorry little star, but I do not think I can withstand more foreplay. I need to mate with you, to breed you until you are so full of my clutches there's no way they won't take."

He came in closer with every word he uttered, hands already grabbing her knees and pulling her down to where the head of his phalluses glided against her cunt.

Unable to speak she nodded desperately, reaching up to wrap her arms under his and cling to his back.

The only thing he needed to apologize was the fact he wasn't fucking her that moment.

With a nearly sub level growl Konig thrusted as deeply into her as he could, both of them groaning at the feeling of his cocks pushing past her walls to make room for him.

It was deep, and hard, and intense.

Konig fucked her like he was trying to carve the shape of himself into her, make a permanent space for him so she'd never be able to forget the way she was claimed.

She felt like she couldn't breath. She couldn't see what was happening below but she could feel it. Konig's buds had unfurred to reveal dozen of little suckers that attached to her sex and thighs, instantly starting a hard suction that left her shaking. Together he was just thicker than his tentacles before, but softer at the tip. It didn't hurt when one head would crash against her cervix, instead it let her feel how the firmer head forced her to feel every push and rub against her G-spot.

Even as her next orgasm crashed through her Konig didn't stop. Instead he just loomed closer, tentacles exploring her mouth, her throat, her chest. Konig was making sure that the only thing she would be able to see, feel or think about was him.

She had no idea how long it kept like that, just that every time she came he showed no sign in stopping. She had lost her sanity by the time she found her words, pleading and begging because she only had one thing on her mind.

"Breed me breed me breed me breed me please please please please need it need it need it."

Oh what a sweet mate Konig had. Begging for his clutch like that. Of course he'd give it to her. He'd give it as many times as he could. It was like his body was at her command, his insemination phallus molded itself to her cervix as his cum started to pour out; hot and thick, forcing its way deep into her womb.

She moaned, deep in her chest as she felt him start to fill her. It was so much deeper than anyone had ever reached before. Her body was practically too weak to cum again, but it still gave a valiant effort to pulse around him like it was trying to encourage every drop.

She would have gotten it one way or another, and by the time he was done she felt a fullness so deep in her she didn't know if she could ever live without the sensation again.

But it wasn't over.

Just as she was starting to relax she felt something bulge against the rim of her poor abused cunt. She tried to run away from it, she did. There was no way she could survive more. But Konig wouldn't let her. With an iron grip around her hips he pulled her back onto his cocks, just as the first few eggs were passing through his oviphallus to settle into her cunt.

He cooed at the way she cried a little, gentle tentacles wiping away the tears.

"There there little Nebula...we have to make sure we give you as many clutches as you can take. Be a good mate it for me."

She was practically in a daze by the time Konig seemed to take mercy on her. Seemed because he simply slowly fucked himself out of her. Each thrust would jostle a soft, jelly like egg that would press against her walls and cause a strike of pleasure to hit her.

She whimpered, a sad little sound of over stimulation and he again was there to reassure her.

"Just creating a plug little star. Can't have our precious clutch come spilling out now."

And true to his word by the time he pulled out of her cunt he'd made the perfect plug with his lubricant, secure enough that not a single drop of his cum or egg would escape.

Once he was sure their clutch was safe he gathered his Nebula in his arms, letting her curl into his side. She looked so cute already so full her stomach already rounding a little. He was so very pleased by she had decided he was the best suitable sire.

Edit

I...I don't know what I wrote. I blacked out and I'm just coming too.

[avianyuh]

Boring | Min Yoongi

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four} Chapter Five

Summary: Your love life is going great, but you start to feel bad leaving out such an important part of your life from friends. You want to come clean about your relationship, but Yoongi seems hesitant to let anyone know.

Though your relationship with Yoongi was basically all you had ever hoped it’d be (and more), you had one little problem. The two of you had been in a serious relationship for about three months. In that time, you had told only one person, your mother. And though she had seemed excited for you as you spoke over the phone about a month into the relationship, she expressed her concern for you considering you were in a relationship with your boss. 

“What if you get in a fight? Or worse, what if you break up? Will you have to find a new job?”, she questioned. And though she had every right to ask you these tough questions, they were simply things that you just didn’t want to think about. But, you had to admit that in the very back of your mind, there were those little doubtful questions that kept you up at night sometimes. 

“Mom, I don’t even want to think about that. Even if things didn’t work out, I would hope we’d be in a good enough place where we could just be friends…”, you trailed off as you leaned against the kitchen counter in your apartment. Yoongi was away on a business trip for the week, and even though he offered you his apartment, you declined, preferring your own smaller place.  You peered over towards the front entrance of your apartment, looking down at the shoe rack. You stared at Yoongi’s sneakers, neatly tucked in on the rack, sitting next to a pair of your own shoes, specifically a pair of your flats you like to wear to work. Things were good. You were happy, Yoongi was becoming more “tolerable” according to your coworkers and the best part was that no one knew what had caused the switch. The irony was, people kept asking you if you had any ideas as to what caused the change, yet they were looking right at “the cause” the whole time. You always played it off, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of your coffee, or scribbling something down on your notepad to avoid discussing it further. You didn’t want to test your luck. 

But other than the occasional existential thought provoking sleepless nights, you had another conundrum. Specifically, it was the increasingly difficult task of trying to hide your relationship from your coworkers. Especially your two friends, Gina and Hana, who you used to frequently gossip about Yoongi with. And though you continued to eat lunch with them and go out for the occasional weekend outing with them, when time for small talk came about your lives outside of work, you began to start feeling increasingly guilty about the massive portion of your life you were purposefully leaving out. After all, Gina and Hana were your friends, not just your coworkers. And to be completely honest, you were really itching to tell someone other than your mother about your boyfriend. It was weird, feeling the happiest you’d ever been, yet you couldn’t share it with your friends. Two people you saw five days out of the week, sometimes six. 

So one night, after Yoongi came back from his trip, as you were laying in bed, drifting off to sleep in his arms, you decided now would be the best time to breach the subject of soft-launching your relationship with your friends. “Yoongi, you know how I told my Mom about our relationship, right?”, you started as you placed your hand on Yoongi’s bare chest. His arm was wrapped around you as his fingers traced the curve of your waist, his movements went up and down. You had to fight the urge to close your eyes, as he was basically putting you to sleep with how calm he made you feel. 

“Mhm”, was all you got in response as Yoongi continued his hand movements. His eyes were closed. You debated if you should even ask, considering the fact that he was seemingly minutes away from falling asleep. But, the other side of you seemed to be telling yourself that it was now or never. 

“Um, I won’t be here around 12 tomorrow, I’m going for lunch with Gina and Hana, remember?”, you questioned. Yoongi hummed again, his eyes still closed. “They keep asking about why I’m not around as much on the weekends…I keep wanting to tell them but I know you don’t really want to tell anyone”, you trailed off. You looked over at Yoongi, noticing that his eyes were now fully open. 

“What? Do they suspect anything?”, he questioned, slightly sitting up, his grip around your waist becoming a little looser. Your heart started to race a bit. You didn’t want to upset Yoongi. You were still in the honeymoon phase and wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. 

“No, no, not at all. I just feel kinda bad because I’m sort of lying to them.”, Yoongi furrowed his brows, giving you a confused look. 

“How are you lying to them? Have they asked if you’re single?” Yoongi didn’t seem to understand that leaving out something as massive as a new boyfriend could really hurt your friendship with someone. 

“Well, they haven’t asked but they’re under the impression that I’m single and I’m obviously not.”, you explained as you gestured with your hand between the two of you. “I just wish I could tell them, they’re people I see almost every day, that’s all…”, you stated, laying on your back as you turned the TV on. 

“You know telling people would look really bad. People would think you’re getting special treatment. And I have a board of people who wouldn’t be okay with the CEO dating an employee.”, Yoongi explained. 

“They wouldn’t say anything. They’re more than my coworkers.”, you said, a little disappointed. Even though you really wanted to tell your friends about your relationship with Yoongi, you knew that you had to respect Yoongi’s wishes. He did have a point, an office relationship would be a huge problem. When Taehyung found out that you helped Yoongi with the file instead of him, he was pissed at you. If it came out that you guys were dating, he’d definitely say that you got special treatment, which in your defense, wasn’t true because you weren’t dating when you worked with Yoongi. 

“Listen”, Yoongi sighed, “If you really want to tell them, then that’s your call…I don’t know them as well as you do.” You tried to conceal your smile as you wrapped your arms around Yoongi’s neck. 

“Thank you Yoongi”, you whispered, “But”, you pulled out of the embrace, “Are you sure? I won’t say anything unless we’re both okay with telling people?”You searched Yoongi’s eyes for hesitation. He did look worried, which made you feel conflicted about telling your friends. 

“Like I said, it’s your call. If you really think they won’t say anything about our relationship to anyone else in the office, go ahead, I trust you.”, he explained, pulling you on top of him and closing his eyes again. “Now, can we go to sleep?”, he whined. 

“So dramatic”, you rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as you got comfortable in your boyfriend's arms. You gave Yoongi a chaste kiss as you rested your head on his chest, almost immediately closing your eyes and feeling relieved. No more hiding. 

~

You were sat across from Gina and Hana the next day at your monthly weekend “brunch”. In a way, you were nervous to tell them, mostly because you had been leaving out the fact that you had a boyfriend the past three months. But also that the said boyfriend is your boss. You played with your food as you pretended to pay attention to Hana’s story about the party she went to last week. 

“Oh my god, Y/N, you look like you’re not even paying attention!”, you looked up from your plate to find Gina and Hana both staring at you. 

“No, I am, I promise.”, you pleaded. Hana crossed her arms over her chest as she made a disappointed face at you. 

“Really? Then who was trying to give me a palm reading in the kitchen?”, you couldn’t believe it, she was giving you a pop quiz. You tried to answer as fast as you could to not raise any more suspicion, so you tried to recall who you remember being mentioned at the party. 

“Erica.”, you stated. Gina laughed as Hana groaned in frustration. 

“Whatever, I still know you weren’t paying attention.”, she said, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Then what was the point in testing me? I got it right”, you grinned at her. As Hana continued to act over dramatic, Gina tapped on your shoulder. 

“You know, you have been sort of quiet. Is everything okay?”, she questioned. Concern evident on her features. 

“Um, actually, yeah there is something I wanted to tell you guys. But first of all, you can’t tell anyone, okay? This stays between the three of us.”, You explained, sitting up in your seat. Your friends stared at you in confusion as you started to catch them up on everything you had left out the past three months. “So, I have a boyfriend.”, you said. Gina gasped as Hana looked at you in confusion. 

“What! When did this happen, you hadn’t mentioned anyone…”, Hana asked as Gina nodded in agreement. 

“I know, that’s why when I tell you, you have to understand that this is a pretty unique situation.” you said, giving them a serious look. 

“Geez, who are you dating? The president?”Gina questioned. 

“No, I’ve been seeing Min Yoongi for the past three months.” There, the bomb was dropped. You watched as their faces went pale. Gina claspedher hand over her mouth, Hana dropped her fork. You, on the other hand, felt a giant wave of relief wash over you. “I know it sounds bad because I didn’t tell you, but he sort of swore me to secrecy. I just had a talk with him yesterday and he agreed with me that it’s okay to tell a few people. The only other person that knows is my Mom since I told her.” you said. 

“But, why did you wait so long? Do you not trust us? Three months is a long time to leave something like that out.” Gina said, seemingly hurt by the news. 

“Gina, I wanted to tell you, but Yoongi didn’t feel comfortable because you guys work with him. He’s really paranoid that people from the office are going to find out and the news will make its way to the other board members of the company.”, you tried to explain. “I was just trying to respect his wishes.”

“Well, when were you planning on telling us? When you got engaged or something?”, Hana asked, also sounding upset. 

“No, guys please, it wasn’t up to me alone. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings…” By now you were starting to get nervous. You didn’t expect them to be so upset, shocked for a few minutes sure, but not genuinely hurt by the news. 

“Y/N, we’re not mad, it’s just a long time to go without sharing something so major. Forget that he’s our boss, we just know how hard it was for you to find someone in the first place, so hearing that you’ve been seeing someone is great, we just wish we could’ve known since day one.” Gina said, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance. Hana nodded in agreement. You started to feel better. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to be mad at you over your relationship. “Well…tell us about him. Around us he’s always so quiet and emotionless.” Gina giggled. “Oh wait, can I not say that in front of you anymore? Like, is it offensive now that he’s your boyfriend?” she questioned. You playfully nudged her arm as you laughed. 

“No, please don’t censor yourself around me. Trust me, I know what you mean by emotionless. That’s how he usually acts at work, he even admits to that.”

“Oh okay, so anyways, what’s he like when you're not at work?” Gina asked as you contemplated what to say to your friends. See, certain details about your relationship, you wanted to keep private. 

“He’s actually really funny. He makes me laugh, which I think you guys would find surprising. Oh, and he loves basketball and he plays piano. He’s really talented. But, he was a little closed off at first, but now he can get really clingy”, you giggled as you thought back to just this morning when you tried to  leave Yoongi’s apartment. He blocked the door and kept saying, “One more kiss”, which turned into maybe 100 kisses before he actually let you leave. 

“Interesting”, Hana said as she waved her hand in a ‘Go on’, type of motion. 

“He’s very romantic. He told me he was committed to me completely.” you said as they both made surprised faces. 

“Sounds serious,” Gina stated. You nodded as you tried to hide the growing smile on your face. “Realistically, what would happen if you did make your relationship public? Would he get in trouble?” Gina questioned. 

“I think the rest of the board would try to make him look bad. Basically try to say that he’s unprofessional for having a relationship with someone in the company. You know he’s the youngest CEO the company’s even had. He told me that a lot of the other board members don’t like that about him. 

“Aren’t you afraid that other people would say you have special treatment?”, Hana asked, now looking concerned. 

“Yeah, but I’d be more concerned if the board went over Yoongi’s head and got me fired. That would be way worse.” you responded nervously. 

“Um, not worse, that would be illegal for them to do unless it’s in your work contract. They, along with anyone else with an unwanted opinion would just have to get used to the fact that the CEO has a girlfriend in the company.” Gina snapped, which made you raise your eyebrows in surprise at how worked up she was. Gina had always been protective over you. “If you do get fired, I’m quitting too.” she finished. You both looked at Hana, waiting for her response.

“I love you guys, but good luck on your job search. I on the other hand, like money so I’d probably stay.”, Gina swatted at Hana, and you laughed as all three of you moved on to a different subject. You feeling relieved but at the same time, trying to ignore the fears of your relationship being outed from creeping to the forefront of your mind. 

[olderthannetfic]

I think another reason that women who are into men are sometimes into or outright prefer gay porn is not just that there's two dudes, but that a man and his reaction will be the subject of focus.

Just speaking from personal experience but if you're into men being the subject of porn then gay porn has a lot more of that than het porn for both statistics reasons and for "we're uncomfortable sexualizing men the way we do women" reasons. Hetero porn simply lacks that focus on even sexualized depictions of male pleasure (or pain or humiliation or whatever gets you hot to see someone experience) where they're making noises and falling apart and generally being undignified. It will usually be the woman overtly groaning and moaning and writhing for the (presumed) male audience while the man in the scene is more stoic or in control. Even romance novels for women tend to focus on the female perspective and pleasure (in a more self-inserty way of course) rather than say... the female main character getting off to watching their male lover orgasm. Not to say it doesn't happen in those genres and mediums but it certainly takes more searching to find and it's not as clearly labelled as other kinks.

If you want to see a man more overtly expressing himself during sex, whether he is pounding or being pounded, you'll have more luck finding it in porn where there are no women. This also applies to solo masturbation porn and fucking sex dolls and stuff but i prefer porn with two or more people and others probably do too. And this is just a general trend I observed (and tbf erotica written from the man's perspective also works similarly to me, if only because of the internal monologue) but I feel it's relevant.

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