#also probably missed some but I try to take the swears out because they sound so aggressive

[twilightguardian]

@kob131

The OP blocked me so I didn't see your reply. Which, fair enough, if they don't want to get notified of our discussion. It was their post, we honestly should have moved off it earlier.

I switched because you literally said your problem was his arrogance. What, would you like me to ignore that and keep focusing on the word spite? It was what I was originally talking about, with most people either claiming one or the other or usually both at the same time, and then you clarified your position on the matter. So I switched. It's not hypocritical, my dude. It's how conversations work.

You don't get to talk about me sidestepping your challenge. My response was to tell you to actually watch his damn content because that's where you'll find it if you want to see it so badly and you ignored it and then shot back a challenge at me without acknowledging it. That's not how things work, my dude. Learn about how burden of proof works, please.

If you couldn't possibly bother to look up anything on Raymond's channel that's your own damn fault, like it would be my own damn fault if I saw... idk, one video of Unresolved Textual Tension's videos and complained about Maria's flippant recapping of the book she's reviewing. If I didn't watch any time they review a book she likes and she still reviews the book the exact same way meaning she isn't flippant out of hate, me bitching about how salty she is would mean I have egg on my face. There's plenty of examples in his reactions where he praises the show's writing that tell me you didn't even bother.

You don't get to make stuff up about how you perceive someone to be when you don't bother to do anything except watch (maybe, or maybe you don't, I don't know you, nor have I looked you up. I am just responding to you as you are right now) his Fixing videos and then claim he's arrogant because he said on his twitter one time that he thinks he's better than M&K.

And really, who cares? Having a writing job on a show doesn't inherently make you a good writer. It means that their works are public and up for critique, which anyone is free to do. Writers on other shows are called bad all the time. Stephen Moffat was called a bad writer all the time who should have stayed an episodic writer. Raymond has said that he doesn't think they're BAD writers, either. Just that, like Moffat, their strengths are with shorter, more contained stories. You'd know that if you watched his content, because he's said it multiple times. Point is, Raymond backs up his words with action while most people don't. Most people just sit and complain and say 'bad writer' and then move on with their lives. Raymond is a writer and is doing FRWBY and his own content outside of Fixing RWBY.

Anyway, I do believe I didn't fully take a look at what you were saying and respond to it, you're right, so I'll correct that.

Prove it. And not by saying "this thing sucks". Actually explain in detail why certain things you take issue with are a problem and taking into account the changes Fixing RWBY has made into context. It should be easy for you to do, since you claim he didn't do a single thing better. Not a single aspect is done well. Nothing at all. So you should have plenty of material to choose one thing.

Keep in mind that I may actually agree with you on something. I don't think Fixing is perfect, but just because I don't think that something is the way that I would have done it means that it's bad necessarily. You have to look at more than one aspect before you determine the difference between it not being for you and it being actively bad. Stepping away from your personal preferences to look at something objectively, I can understand the decisions made.

Mupa and I talked about how it would have been easy to make Ren or Jaune Ozpin's host. Ren has the green theme, same as Ozpin. He can also pull off the wiser-than-he-seems aspect. Jaune is meant to be Joan of Arc. Hearing voices in his head is RIGHT THERE. Missed opportunity, if you ask me lol

Though I've said it before, I actually chewed Raymond out in vc once for replacing Oscar because I was looking forward to seeing his interpretation of Oscar. I also pointed out that the point of Fixing is to stick to canon as close as possible.

Thing about spiteful passion is that you quickly get burned out by it. It wears you down if you keep it up for long periods of time. Raymond has been working on Fixing RWBY for YEARS. Because he loves the show. He's said he loves the show multiple times on his channel. Doing a big project on something you love also wears you down, but you are rejuvenated in the end by the end product. Things made out of spite are only effective in the short term, not the long.

You're making a lot of assumptions here, bud.

That a fan, who has less power than the creators, cannot or should not have the ability to insult the writing. He doesn't insult the writers, at least as far as I remember. He doesn't say 'fuck Miles/Kerry the piece of shit' or anything like that, he says he's a bad writer. Oh. How terrible. He's made jokes before about burning idols of Miles in his backyard, sure, but that's not an insult. It's comedy. You don't have to find it funny, but it's not meant to be taken seriously, it's not a threat; the guy jokes around a lot.

That as a fan he should be held up to the same standards as the professional writers, who are held to a professional standard and judged accordingly. Keep in mind: a lot of fanfic authors out there do believe themselves better than the writers of the fandom they write for. Or unrelated professional authors. There's a reason 'I've read/written better fanfic than this' is a common insult.

He does less and risks less of himself than the original creators. What does this even mean? How do you know how much work Raymond does or does not do to make Fixing RWBY? Creating a base world like RWBY is easy. It can be done in mere hours. Or any story meant for younger audiences, not to talk about RWBY specifically. Sailor Moon is a very simplistic story whose premise and characters can be created in a few hours. Spice and Wolf is a premise that is very simplistic world building. And I've seen plenty of authors who have put blood, sweat and tears into writing fanfic, or rewriting something. Making sure the lore is correct, or references something, the characters are fundamentally the same, expanding on things, adding things that don't contradict, and if you are changing aspects of the canon lore, making sure it still is within the boundaries of what the canon is. My own fanfic is an example I've put a lot of thought and effort into with it being an AU pseudo-rewrite based on my gripes with my own main fandom, so I have to constantly cross-reference to make sure I get characterization right despite the alternate scenario and build up new character arcs from scratch despite a lot of the work already being done for me. To say that because he's building off something already established so he doesn't work hard is an insult to all fanfic writers.

This is just reiterating the point you've already tried to make. He's a fan who is not making money selling Fixing RWBY. Thinking that you should criticize a fan making a fan project is a dick move in any fandom that I know of. It's a nonsense question and just makes you look more like a bully. It's a power dynamics thing. Raymond has no real power over RWBY. He's "punching up" as they say. Anyone claiming that they should have the right to criticize a fan and say things about them because "they're doing it too" is being petty and acting like a child.

For the record: didn't Miles literally say he hates people who criticize just to be spiteful or to be mean? He called out people who do that because it's inappropriate. So why do you feel it's okay to do it when the person you're supposedly defending doesn't condone your behaviour?

Raymond loves criticism, actually. He looks forward to any time someone can give him honest critique of the show. He actively says at the end of his Fixing videos to leave comments and criticisms in the comments section. He addresses them. He's acknowledged mistakes that he's made, and strives to do better.

Not all criticism is written equal, though. Saying 'I think this thing is weak/poorly executed because of xyz reasons' is different from 'ew you did zyx how dare' or 'how dare you change [literally anything] you're a hack writer'.

One is a genuine critique talking in detail about the flaws and why they view it as a problem. The middle is saying they don't like a concept. Okay? Noted, I guess. The other is straight up being a troll or a petulant child.

Raymond takes into consideration the first, sometimes the second and laughs at the third. But he's also allowed to defend himself.

Skipped to here in your next post because I already addressed what you said above.

It's subjective. Also, you're being the second person in the example above. What else am I supposed to say here? 'Nuh uh.'

If you don't explain why, there's nothing to talk about. I do not agree it doesn't improve shit. I don't agree it bloats anything and I don't agree that the project is overworked.

Like I said, get up off your lazy ass and look at his reactions for yourself. They're right there. He talks about what he likes and what he doesn't like and everyone usually says he's consistently the nicer one of the group (to RWBY) apart from Dashie. It's not my job to make you drink, I will just point in the direction of water. If you haven't watched his reviews and caught when he compliments the show, that's on you. If you haven't seen when he says directly that he loves the show, that's on you.

But here, scroll through this guy's post. If the videos are still up then watch them. Now you can't say I didn't show you where. Because they're right there.

Eat your words.

Back to your current reply.

It literally doesn't matter, friendo.

Also you claim to know how much his book has been seen now? How many people bought his book? Since you know so much, please tell me, I'm curious. His video views on his announcement aren't indicative of that, I hope you know. The Artificer has been reviewed by at least one other youtuber, a booktuber, so it's out there. It might get picked up by more. Not everyone who casually reads books leaves reviews, either. I know I'm one of those people, because I have nothing substantial to say, or I just don't feel like it even if I do.

I ask why the hell do you care about his other works and whether they're popular. But if we're comparing here, you have a company of at least 300 people by the time of volume 2 compared to a single man. And you think a company with a budget of any kind, no matter how small it may be for marketing and merchandise is really comparable to one man? Like frig. Bigger youtubers than him don't even compare to Company money. Shadiversity for instance, for all his popularity, doesn't compare to Company money.

It's disingenuous of you to act like they are.

I'm not lying lol

Saying you're a better writer than X doesn't make you spiteful gtfo with that stupid argument lol

You're so caught up with that one little thing. Is that your main gripe with him? Would you actually think not a whole lot is wrong with Fixing RWBY if he didn't say that one singular thing you don't like? Are you basically trying to give him a taste of his own medicine? If not, then what the hell does it matter? He said something you don't like. Do you go around disliking and talking shit about everyone who has said something you don't like ever? Or do you move on because in the end it doesn't matter?

You think he's not proving himself better. Say how and why. Popularity doesn't matter, my dude. There's plenty of quality shit out there that's obscure. Look at all the things out there that bombed at the box office but became cult classics. Doing numbers is not indicative of quality.

You perceive him to be arrogant. Doesn't make him so. I think you just have a stick up your ass because he insulted someone you have attachment to and admire and you view him as a bad guy meanie head for it.

I don't think he owes Miles or Kerry anything. He doesn't need to be nice to them. It's ridiculous to think that just because his channel makes money off RWBY content that means he has to be grateful to the writers of the show and thus not say anything derogatory about them.

It's also none of your business, nor do I understand why you whiteknight (not meant to be an insult, it's just late and I can't think of synonyms) for them so much when you don't even know them personally as people. They're professionals. They're big boys with big boy pants who take criticism a lot better than you have. It's the professional world. They're not the only writers who have had mean things said about them, and they're not the last. They probably have learned to let the criticism roll off their backs and pick out what is harsh, but fair criticism and what is just people frothing at the mouth.

He's not fucking MysteriousMrEnter where he used to fly into such a rage calling them names and wishing death upon them he caused other people to harass the writers of Spongebob on twitter. He said the writing was bad. You can criticize someone's work without insulting them as people. You can criticize someone's work without thinking the writers are bad people. Raymond has shot ME down when I said they were bad writers and explained to me where he thinks their strengths are. I've said it many times. If you haven't seen him say it when he has multiple times, that's on you.

He HAS said things in a fit of rage and he regrets it. Terrible thing owning up to his mistakes and trying to be better. What an asshole.

Nah. It's because after I replied to you the first time I learned you're a known issue in the community and I had little faith in you that you would actually be honest. Plus, I'm busy; leads to inaccurate reading, for whatever that's worth. I'm making up for it with this by giving you the proper attention. If I was actually like Lilith Fairen I would have blocked you the moment you replied to me and then kept talking about you behind the block, laughing at how pathetic you were for being a rwby stan who thinks it's okay to harass small creators and blah blah despite that not being the reason you were talking to me.

It's happened before, where I thought I could have a decent conversation with someone only to learn they'd actively ignore anything Raymond said that was positive, the person wanted to believe whatever he wanted about the man and say shit about his content due to that false belief that he hated the show. I'm glad you are actually talking to me and engaging, but we'll see where it goes.

[tonycries]

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 

And then it’s all black. 

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 

“It’s al-”

 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh. 

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit. 

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 

All for him. 

It’s too much. 

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 

You. 

And then he’s cumming. 

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture. 

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do. 

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 

Except maybe those. 

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving VII

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Olympic chaos with your sister

Y/NPutellas.S has started a live video. Click to join!

"-Got two backpacks," You're saying as Alexia clicks on your video," I think one of them might become my racket bag because the one I'm using right now is falling apart."

You shove the bags away, glancing around the space as you drag more towards you.

"There's a toiletry bag as well which is full of stuff I probably won't even use."

You pause as you scroll through the comments.

"What sport am I competing in? Oh, I'm doing tennis...Who will be the hardest to play against? Iga, always. I train with her most of the time and I think I've only beaten her a few matches this year. She's scary. Coco always gives me a good competition too. I think she text me a few hours ago but I haven't answered just yet."

You go back to showing off your haul.

You're very complimentary of all of the shoes but you seem confused as to why you've been given so many socks.

Alexia takes a screenshot of a weird face you make while trying on the bucket hat and hastily makes it her profile picture.

"I'm not a fan of the opening skirt," You tell your followers," It's not really my style. I'll wear it because I have to but...What's that? My sister's here?"

You crowd a bit closer to your phone, brows furrowed as you scroll up looking for Alexia's comments.

She feels triumphant at the look of horror on your face when you see her profile picture.

"Alexia!" You shriek," Change it back! My eyes aren't even open! Ale, please!"

Alexia does not change it back and you swear under your breath at her.

"I'm telling Mama!"

Alexia Putellas: Go ahead, you little snitch

"I'm not a snitch!"

Alexia Putellas: Yes, you are

"Don't listen to her guys! She's such a liar!"

You've always been more active on social media than Alexia and fans eat up any content you post on your TikTok. Most of your fans are just people that watch tennis but you've gone viral overnight when you posted a video of you and Iga reuniting at the Olympic Village.

Suddenly, everyone wants content from you and you're posting more than you ever have before.

A lot of it still centres around your tennis, out on the practice courts with the rest of team Spain but there's more domestic things like you retaping your racket grip and showing off everything in the Olympic Village.

Something in Alexia snaps when you make a video complaining about how uncomfortable your cardboard bed is. Suddenly, she's stitching your video.

Her camera pans across her normal hotel bed and ends with her giving a thumbs up to the camera with a smug grin on her face.

Her own fans go crazy over her posting something outside of sponsorships and it's strange to see that some people don't even know who you are.

woso.alexia.engen: Who was the first person in the video???? -> captainklittle: Alexia's little sister! She's representing Spain for tennis!

A second stitch appears hours later, piggybacking off a video of you complaining about your lack of AC. There's no sound apart from the very deliberate flick of Alexia's own AC switch.

It seems every complaint you post, Alexia finds a way to show off how much better she has it in a hotel outside of Paris.

You decide, perhaps a little pettily, to show off what she's missing.

"Hi, guys!" You say," I know a lot of people were wondering about pin trading so I thought I would bring you along for the ride! I've already got a Poland one from Iga and a US one from Coco but I've been wanting a Team GB one and I'm also meeting up with Paolini so she can give me an Italy one."

It's another live video and thank god there's a break in training, so Alexia can jump onto it again.

Jenni and Misa crowd around her at the same time, curious as to what's going on with you.

"I was talking to Carlos at breakfast and he was telling me that the coaches have ordered us all mattress toppers because the beds have started to affect how we're performing."

Alexia Putellas: Sucks to be you, doesn't it?

"Alexia, I swear to god if you keep bullying me then I'm telling Mama and she'll fly out to whoop your ass!"

Alexia Putellas: 🤪

"And Jenni I knew that it's you that just sent that because Alexia doesn't understand emojis."

"Fuck," Jenni mutters.

"Wait, give me the phone. I'll fix it," Misa says.

Alexia Putellas: Who's Jenni?

"Misa, I know that's you as well. Stop trying to cover for each other and I'll tell Mama and she'll whoop all of you."

Alexia doesn't get her phone back for the rest of your live but she does get a strongly worded text from Eli after it's over to grow up and not let her friends bully you.

Alexia calls you a snitch.

You remind her that she should stop bullying you.

"Look who it is!" Jenni cajoles as you come running out of the village to crash into Alexia," Baby Putellas!"

But you're not really listening to her as Alexia presses her forehead against yours, whispering fast Catalan to you as you giggle.

"Aw..." Misa continues where Jenni left off," Look at them! Two sisters! Reunited!"

You and Alexia push each other away, turning your back and pretending that you weren't hugging just a few moments ago.

You turn back to her quickly, hand out. "Can I have your pins?"

"What? No! They're mine!"

"You're not even in the Village! You can't use them!"

"Yes I can!" Alexia splutters out," I've been trading them!"

"Yeah? With who?"

"Jenni!"

"Liar! You've got the same pins! Come on, Ale. Give them over!"

"I will...for a price."

As Alexia lays out her terms, you bring everyone up to your room.

Jenni and Misa split off briefly to check out the dining hall but Alexia comes straight up with you.

"It's actually cardboard," She says, poking at your bed frame.

"Yeah? Do you think we were all lying about that? It's proper cardboard. You can draw on it if you want."

A smile splits your sister's face open.

"Never mind. I don't want you drawing on my bed."

Alexia pokes it. "Do you think it's true? That two people can't get on it at the same time?"

You shrug, rummaging through your bedside table. "I don't know. Why?"

You never get your answer though.

Arms are around your waist suddenly and you're being hauled backwards as Alexia slams herself onto your bed, dragging you back with her.

You may not get an answer but Alexia certainly does because the moment the two of you land, there's an almighty ripping noise and your bed goes to ground very quickly.

"Oops," You sister says.

"Alexia!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't sound very sorry at all."

"Yeah...You're right. I'm not sorry in the slightest. Hey! Stop hitting me!"

"You're lucky I'm not beating you with my rackets!"

"Hey. Hey! It's fine! You can get a new bed."

"Jenni and Misa are going to take the piss out of me! How could you do this, Ale?"

As annoying as your sister is, she at least has the decency to push the blame off onto her friends as you both hastily raise your bed up again and wait for Jenni and Misa to arrive.

They seem to have the same idea as Alexia, jumping onto your bed without so much of a greeting.

But, as planned, the bed collapses under them and the shock of their faces is enough for Alexia breaking your bed to be worth it. Their faces are even funnier as they head downstairs to ask for a new one for you.

Behind your back, Alexia passes you a handful of pins.

JenniHermoso10 has started a live video. Click to join!

"Forward! Forward!"

"I am going forward!"

"More forward! When I say forward, it doesn't mean shuffle! It means walk forward! You're a person not a pigeon!"

"And here we have Olympic football player Alexia Putellas and Olympic tennis player y/n Putellas, attempting to climb onto the rings," Jenni narrates from behind the camera.

"It's not going well," Misa says, as Alexia nearly throws you from your spot on her shoulders," Alexia is clearly struggling."

"I'm not struggling!" Alexia insists, yelping as you twist her hair in your hands.

"Forward!

"This is as forward as I can get!"

"That's such bullshit! Move closer!"

"I can't!"

"You can!"

"I don't think they're ever going to make it," Jenni says," It's like they can't-"

"Stop! Ale, stop! Left a bit. No! Too left. Right again. Left! Right! Left!"

"Left, right, forward, back," Alexia mutters," Make up your mind."

"Left and...got it...Wait! Don't let go!"

You haul yourself from your sister's shoulders onto the centre ring, positioning yourself perched on the sliver of the yellow ring that enters the black one.

"Alright," Alexia says," Give me a hand."

"What? No! You'll pull me off!"

"Give me your hand!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

She braces herself on the lower rings and grabs your hand, pulling herself into the centre ring before you can even shove her off.

"Oh," She says," That was pretty easy." Alexia grins at you but the smile drops from her face when she notices the pensive look you're wearing. "What is it?"

"I've just realised," You laugh in disbelief," When Mama said she wanted a picture of us and the rings. I think she meant in front of them. Not in them."

"Oh."

[hederasgarden]

Like Oil and Water

Summary: Your office power struggle with Scott comes to a head. Paring: Scott (Twisters) x F!Scientist!Reader Word Count: 2.1K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Enemies to lovers trope, PIV sex, fingering, and dirty talk. Slight angst.  A/N: The story is based on this ask I received. I know there are like…five Scott fans out there besides me so I hope y’all like this. I have no explanation for this fic except I’m horny for Scott. I had an alternative ending to this story but whoops feelings crept in. Thank you to @ryebecca, @whatblogisthis216 and @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over. The snazzy summary is courtesy of @writercole.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 

David Corenswet Characters Masterlist

“I’m never picking up your coffee order again,” Javi swears, handing the Starbucks cup to you. “Whatever happened to coffee with a little bit of cream?”

“Capitalism,” you reply, taking a sip. It wasn’t exactly how you liked it, missing that deep caramel flavor, but you appreciate Javi’s effort. “Thanks again.”

He nods, drinking from his cup as you make your way down to the labs, discussing the results from the latest test. 

“We will need to adjust the relays, but other than that, I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “I’ll let the techs know we need those changes made this week.”

“Sounds good. I gotta make a quick call, but I’ll join you after,” Javi promises, disappearing into his office while you make your way down the hall.

You hear the low timber of Scott's voice before you spot him in conversation with one of the female techs. You loathe to admit it but he looks good, his tanned forearms on display with the sleeves of his white company shirt rolled up. The baseball cap tucked into his back pocket and dusty boots let you know he probably came straight from the field. 

"We need to fix the relays. They failed the test. Again. That's unacceptable," he begins, gearing up for another one of his infamous lectures. "Back when I was at MIT, this type of calibration was the first thing we were taught."

Scott may have been one of the smartest guys on Javi’s team but he was also a smug asshole. From the moment you met him, he irritated you, reminding you of every man who thought he was smarter and better than you just because of his gender. Everyone expected engineers to be difficult to work with, but Scott took it to another level. Who could blame you for taking him down a peg or two when you had the chance?

"So you went to MIT. Big whoop," you begin, delighted to see Scott tense up at the sound of your voice. When he turns to face you, the tech is quick to scurry away. "Call me when you have a PhD from a real school, like Caltech, Scotty."

He hates it when you call him that but today it's your jab about MIT that strikes a nerve. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he exhales harshly. God, that angry look in his eye really did something for you. Too bad his looks couldn’t make up for how much of a dick he could be. 

Scott practically spits your first name out, stepping into your space to loom over you. His broad shoulders and muscular build block your view of the lab. You tilt your head to look at him, fighting the urge to smile. "You really should address me as ‘doctor,’" you calmly remind him, tapping your name badge. 

You arch a brow, waiting for his response but his mouth snaps shut, attention moving to something behind you. 

It’s Javi.

"Come on guys," he sighs. "Play nice."

You glance over your shoulder, smiling sweetly. "I'm always nice.”

"Why are you even in the labs today?" Scott questions, glancing down at your heels. 

You smooth a hand down your dress and smile. "I'm the Vice President of R&D for Storm Par. These are my labs. I belong here.”

"Dressed like that?" He scoffs. 

"What, you don't like it?" You ask, turning in a slow circle. 

"We had a meeting with some new investors," Javi supplies, trying to cut off the start of another fight between the two of you. 

Scott turns away and you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. He still hasn’t forgiven you for talking Javi out of letting his uncle invest in the company. It would have been easy money but you never liked the business plan. It was best to stick with government grants and investors without any personal connections. 

Javi touches your arm. “Come on, we gotta finish that grant.”

You hum in agreement, trailing behind him to the doorway. Pausing, you glance back and catch Scott watching you, his lips pressed into a thin line. With a grin, you wiggle your fingers at him, amused to see the furrow in his brow deepen even further.

The rest of your day is blessedly Scott-free and you spend your time buried in meetings and wading through needlessly complicated grant submissions. Javi employed some of the smartest people you’ve ever had the privilege of working with but they were terrible when it came to making the science digestible to investors. You sigh, rubbing your temples. It was going to be a long night.

You work uninterrupted, buried in the complexities of the grant, until Scott storms into your office, slamming the door behind him. “Did you tell the techs they could go home early?” he demands.

“Please, do come in,” you deadpan, setting aside the papers you’re holding.

“Did you send them home?” He repeats, rounding your desk and invading your personal space. At his side, his hands are clenched into fists, the veins in his neck standing out.

“I did.” You rise to your full height but even in heels, he dwarfs you. 

“That wasn’t your call.”

“You do remember my job title, right?”

“I’m VP of Operations,” he reminds you. “I say when they go home, especially when we’re on a deadline.”

“They report to me, and you’ve had them working long hours,” you fire back.

He shakes his head, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, as he gives you an unimpressed look. “You’re too soft on them. I told Javi you weren’t right for this job. This isn’t academia. We work hard here.” 

You bristle at his words, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the soft skin of your palm. He has no idea what it took for you to get here, the challenges you faced, or the men like him you had to prove yourself to.

“Go fuck yourself, Scott.” 

You glare up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. You wait, ready for whatever asshole comment is sure to come but he just stares at you. Then, to your surprise, his gaze drops to your mouth. You freeze, electricity zipping up your spine when you realize you’re close enough for your chest to brush his as you exhale. Looking back, you won't remember the impulse that led you to tilt your head and press your lips to his, only that you did.

The kiss only lasts a second before you pull away, heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, neither of you moves, but then suddenly he surges forward, his large hand grasping the side of your face. His lips crash into yours roughly. A hand at your hip urges you back until you bump your desk but he doesn’t stop until he’s practically dragged you on top of it. He presses in close, eating up what little space remains. You groan, grasping at his shirt as you push your hips into his. 

“Fuck,” he pants, resting his forehead against yours as his warm breath fans across your face. For one terrible second, you think he might stop or say something stupid to ruin the moment but then he’s kissing you again. He forces a hand between your bodies and roughly pulls your underwear aside so his fingers can drag through your folds. You’d be shocked by how fast it’s all happening but any higher thought fizzles out once his thumb circles your clit and his tongue breaks the seam of your lips to taste you. 

You’re breathless when he pulls away, back arching in response to his talented fingers. Through your lashes you see him smirk down at you. “No smart comebacks now?” He questions.

Before you can retort he adds a second finger. You moan, rolling your hips to seek more of him. “Knew you’d be fucking greedy,” he whispers.

He watches you fuck yourself on his hand with a hungry glint in his eyes until your pace slows. He glanced at your face. You rise up on your elbows, brow raised. “Am I going to do all the work here?” 

“Shut up,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers.

A witty comeback is on the tip of your tongue but it dies when Scott brings his fingers to his mouth. He stares down at you while he sucks them clean, his Adam's apple bobbing. Your stomach clenches hard at the sight. 

“That’s better,” he comments, unbuckling his belt. “Nice and quiet.” 

He takes a condom from his wallet and rolls it on his thick length. If there was ever a time to stop, it’s now. You look at Scott, his dark gaze swimming with desire and push the thought away, rising up to kiss him. The blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance and you lift your hips. You relish the way he looks, dark hair curling over his sweaty forehead and his body straining for you. Knowing you’ve done this to him sends a rush of want through you. 

Scott pushes inside slowly, hissing as your wet heat envelopes him until he’s halfway in and then he snaps his hips forward unexpectedly. Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush. He falls forward and the weight of him is electrifying. You’d be embarrassed at the desperate little sounds his mouth swallows up if he didn’t feel so damn good. 

He fucks with an intense kind of precision you’ve seen him bring to his work, reaching deep inside you to hit all the right places. You bury your fingers in his dark hair and pull, eliciting a needy moan from the irritatingly talented man above you. 

“You gonna come for me?” He asks, breathless. 

A desperate little, please, slips past your lips without your permission, spurring him on. He hooks a hand under your knee and forces your leg into your chest as he keeps up his frantic pace. The new angle takes him even deeper and pleasure ripples through your stomach. He feels unbelievably good and you practically sob when he pulls back and rises to his full height, afraid he’s going to stop. But he doesn’t, grasping your hips with both hands and forcing you to meet his thrusts. 

You’re tantalizing close and, without thinking, you reach down to help yourself along but Scott is quick to slap your hand away, replacing it with his own. 

“That’s mine,” he growls, the rough pad of his thumb catching on the sensitive skin. He watches with rapt attention as his cock and fingers work in tandem to drive you over the edge. You come with his name on your lips. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he gasps. 

Before you can recover your breath, he leans down and kisses you, his weight pressing you into the desk as his hips move relentlessly. Then he shoves himself deep inside and stills, groaning. Your ears ring and your body buzzes with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. The two of you stay like that, intertwined and panting until, finally, Scott moves. 

Cool air rushes between your bodies and you stare up at him. You can see him thinking in real time, his clever gaze searching your face as he continues to process what happened. What could either of you possibly say after this? Nothing good you realize. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t ruin it.” 

Scott closes his eyes and swallows hard. Then he's moving, slipping out of you with a grunt. He turns away from you, redressing. The clink of his belt buckle is loud in the quiet office. Pressing your fingers to your swollen lips, you take a moment to let yourself feel everything before pushing it aside and standing on unsteady legs.

You fix your appearance the best you can and busy yourself with shuffling the mess of papers strewn everywhere. It might be cowardly, but you keep your gaze fixed on your desk when you hear the door creak open. You wait, the minutes dragging by until you know it’s safe to look up, only to find Scott still there.

He lingers in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you. 

Then you blink and he’s gone. 

♡

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[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (final)

prev // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 13k

warning: smut that i'm not proud of

a/n: it's finally here! only took like 10 years. apology if i missed anyone on the taglist, it's been forever

you know you're probably wrong. but even if you are, you don't wanna hear about it.

don't wanna hear about all the mistakes and choices you're making on a whim because you've already had enough of today.

you wish you were surprised when san is the first thing you see upon exiting your work building. at this point, it's really just irritating how predictable he is.

he showed up, of course he did. all the purposely missed calls and ignored texts practically an invitation--a mistake on your part.

hands in his pockets and a sullen expression on his face as if you've done him wrong, the beating of your heart louder the closer you are to him, whether you'd like to admit it or not.

he looks tired, even if it's evening and the sun is already faltering from the sky; adorned in his messy unbrushed hair and sweatsuit staring at you with eyes a mix of everything from annoyance, sadness, to anger--all of which you don't wanna deal with right now, if ever.

you suck in your breath and stop in front of him, thinking it's way too cliche if you just walk past him only to be pulled back by the grip on your wrist. so you let him talk.

though it feels like the longest stare-off before he speaks up, after finally picking up the hint that if he isn't gonna, you two might as well stand in unpleasant silence.

"what happened?" is all san says, because he honestly can't even begin to think of what to ask first.

why did you ignore all of his calls and texts yesterday? why are you standing before him now, looking the most pissed off he's seen you in a while when you also just sounded the happiest you've ever been in a while?

but most importantly, how did you all of sudden come to make up your mind so fast about the move? he swears, he was so sure just a day ago you were gonna stay. everything from your actions to body language, even if there were hiccups.

even if there were doubts in the smallest things you did or said at times that had him questioning the possibility for a second... he was still willing to bet you'd eventually end up staying.

"nothing happened. i made up my mind. that's it," you tell him, refusing to meet his eyes while doing so, because if you did, it's almost like you knew he's gonna be able to see through the lies.

either way, he sees through it. some of it, at least. standing unmoved in his spot and trying to make sense of everything.

"i just don't understand," he says defeatedly, probably one of the most vulnerable he's ever sounded. "i was really sure you were gonna stay."

and you'd lie if the way he said it doesn't make your heart pinch with guilt a little, inhaling another deep breath and hurling out words deprived of any empathy, "well you thought wrong."

you can tell he's taken aback by your response; the cold shoulder something he can take, but not when it's also met with harsh words he feels he's undeserving of.

"so that's it?" he says, shrugging with thinning patience and a tone no longer friendly and concerned. "you're just gonna leave?"

after everything. after he's tried so hard to change your mind, and after he was so sure he did.

"i guess so..." you mumble, looking to the ground, ashamed but also too prideful to back down now.

an almost never-ending silence sits between you and san until both of your heads shoot to the opening of the door to your workplace, one of your coworkers making a quick appearance before heading to their car.

san clears his throat.

"can i ask why, at least?"

the question brings an even bigger knot to your throat, because how do you even tell him the real reason at this point and not wanna run away after; losing all of your pride and dignity in front of the very boy you spent most of your life despising.

the same boy, who, you realized maybe you didn't hate so much and that you might even hold some more complex feelings for.

"because," you say, trying your best to sound convincing through all the lies you're about to spew, "i-i just think it's for the best."

it's then that san seems no longer angry or in disbelief, his face turning a softer expression that speaks as if he's come to an understanding, really taking your words for it.

"i see..." he says under his breath, staring down at the ground before looking you in the eyes one last time. "if you're sure that's what you really want, then i hope it works out."

your chest constricts just at the scene replaying in your head again; the defeated look on san's face and the eerie, guilt-stricken sensation you felt in the moment all coming back the same as before.

you down another sip of the drink in your hand, repeating the action every time the thought comes back, losing count on both the number of drinks you're on and the time.

occasionally, the irritating music from the shoddy bar does a good job of distracting you when the drinks isn't enough to overpower the mere thought that you're about to make one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

the bar is nearly empty, like if there weren't music playing, you'd be able to hear a pin drop. but you're thankful for the lack of pestering from guys twice your age due to it, given you're in no mood for confrontations.

it's only peaceful for a moment longer when the front door comes bursting and in arrives what seems like a rather large group of people, the chitters drawing yours and everyone else's attentions.

you groan irritatingly and finish the rest of your drink, considering this as the sign to go home for the night as you ring up the bartender for payment.

grabbing your purse and getting off the stool, you don't make it far past the group of newcomers before a familiar voice calls to you.

"y/n?" you hear him through the now hushed music, turning to your side and meeting his wide but calm eyes.

"hongjoong?" you squeak, swallowing the knot.

it takes him only one glance over to conclude you're a mess, and especially in a place he knows you go to in order to relieve whatever stress and misery you're going through.

"what brings you here?" he asks calmly.

"i should be asking you that," you return, gaze scanning the surrounding and people that has turned such a snoozefest place into a rowdy one.

"had a small but successful showing with the band i'm in, so we wanted to celebrate and invited a couple of our close friends," he answers, much to a silence from you, prompting him to ask, "and you?"

"i wanted to grab a drink," you say, trying your best to sound casual but it's like he saw the buffering in your head when you tried coming up with an excuse.

he raises a brow, his response takes you aback. "you wanna talk about it?"

if you had heard such a thing a couple months ago, you would've scoffed and told him to leave you the hell alone. but currently, you're aware you don't have a lot of choices.

it's either you get some company, or rot in your room for the rest of the night. and maybe hongjoong's in a certainly good mood from the previous event that he's willing to hear you out, because despite the unresolved differences between the two of you, he has always been a good listener.

someone you used to come to all the time when you had problems.

after you say yes (with some hesitation and shame), hongjoong excuses himself, making sure to let some of the people he came with know regarding his whereabouts for the next few minutes.

you both occupy a booth in the far corner overlooking the crowd. hongjoong gets water for you and him because he said he doesn't wanna get buzzed just yet, and that you've had enough for the night.

"been a while, hasn't it?" he speaks, the sight of you across from him in some sketchy bar making him nostalgic.

you both used to do it all the time together; frequenting bars and getting drunk off your asses, seonghwa would have to come pick you guys up.

it's been about three years since the last time.

"yeah," you reply, voice low, because the realization hits you that it has been that long.

it doesn't only make you as nostalgic as him, but also downright depressed because while hongjoong has grown within these past years, truly following his passion and making newer, better friends, you're still in the exact same position you were from before. heck, it's even worse now.

"what's with the long face?" he breaks you out of the thought. "rough day?"

you sigh, mumbling, "pretty much." though you wouldn't even have to answer for him to know. he just does, able to read you like an open book.

he nods understandably and lingers on words he's been wanting to say, eventually giving in.

"hey, look, about yunho's celebration party... i'm sorry if i was a dick."

“fancy seeing you here,” a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.

“thought you got too good for this kind of setting.”

the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don’t bother to hide it.

“i’m not here to get high or whatever, i’m here for yunho.”

“of course you are,” he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you’re just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.

"i was just... angry and upset at the sudden sight of you after having not seen you for a while and it all came out without much thoughts."

you shake your head, unfazed from the reminder of your encounter with hongjoong at the celebration party.

"no. i understand. not like i was any nicer that day anyway."

another silence ensues, but you know it's because there's so much to say, hongjoong might not know where you begin. you don't even know where to begin.

"i ran into seonghwa a while ago," you start again, following with a chuckle when you add, "i don't know what it is that i keep running into you two."

hongjoong chuckles along.

"maybe faith wants us back together, i don't know," he jokes, but your laughter fades slowly, turning into something of a light smile.

"i do miss being with you guys," you say, locking eyes with him that speaks more than words can.

not just the parties and crazy memories, but the smaller, meaningful moments--listening to the new track hongjoong just produced as you try not to doze off, being forced to help seonghwa build the lego set he just got, and even just doing homeworks and assignments together although you were failing most of your classes.

it was them who tried to get you back on your feet, and them who tried to uplift you when you were at your lowest.

thinking of it, they might've been there for you more than yunho ever has, because after starting college, almost every instances where you were crying or is a mess, either hongjoong or seonghwa, or both, were by your side.

"i miss it, too," hongjoong says. "we're still great friends, of course, but it's not quite the same without you."

because while you had your shortcomings (most of them related to yunho), you were a great friend nonetheless.

you shared the same sense of humor and you just get him, even in ways seonghwa couldn't; the two of you able to go on for hours just debating and talking about stupid shit.

you were also quite tough in your own ways and never allowed anyone to look down on your friends--not seonghwa's nerdy hobbies, nor hongjoong's occasional shitty tracks.

you can't help the wider smile that breaks out from his comment. hongjoong don't know how much you needed to hear just one thing positive tonight, or maybe he does.

"i'm glad you still ache for my presence," you say lightheartedly, bringing out a chuckle from hongjoong.

"don't flatter yourself."

you laugh the comment off, taking a light sip of water and darting your eyes across the room to the group that came with hongjoong.

"looks like you've been doing well for yourself."

hongjoong nods. "i'd say i'm not doing so bad. and you? what have you been up to?"

it's then that the smile on your face falls, hongjoong taking a notice to it right away.

"you look down tonight, and considering you're here, i can only assume you haven't been having the greatest of time. you know you can always tell me anything, but if you're not ready, i also understand," he says carefully and empathetically, the way he always would when he sensed you were upset.

you take a deep breath because though you haven't properly spoken to him in years, you know hongjoong to be the type to carry a secret to his grave.

"it's just..." you begin, "everything's going to shit lately." obviously.

hongjoong doesn't say anything and lets you carry on respectfully, knowing he's unleashed just about everything you've kept to yourself that's been dying to get out.

"you and seonghwa were right. maybe yunho does love me, but he wasn't in love with me. him and minjeong are together now, and i caught them the night of his celebration party. my parents and his are already talking about an engagement dinner and i don't fucking know," you ramble, watching hongjoong's eyes widen at the revelation.

"woah," is all he can say.

"yeah, i know it's a lot to take in and i'm just starting."

"not to be that person that's a know-it-all, but i kind of felt something was going on between them, too. like there was always a weird ass vibe whenever they were together."

"wow," you say, puzzled. "i guess it must've just been me who was a dumbass and didn't see the signs."

"to be fair, you were pretty full of yourself so it doesn't come as a surprise," he takes a jab, knowing you won't take it to the heart.

you just roll your eyes at the remark, but before you can continue the retelling of your unfortunes, he gets to it first.

"but that's not why you're here tonight, currently drowning in misery?"

you go tight-lipped at that, eventually caving.

"it's not."

this time, he leans in and rest both his hands on the table, never breaking eye contact with you and only making you more nervous about the confession that's to come.

what would he think?

through most of the times that you've known him and seonghwa, you practically spent it denying ever developing any sort of romantic feelings for san, even when they teased you relentlessly about it.

so how would he feel when you tell him that same boy is also the current cause of the misery you're going through?

"tell me about it," he urges in a calm and friendly manner that still makes you have to swallow down the tension in your throat.

"what happened with yunho was a couple months ago," you say, "it was hard. of course it was. but it would've been even worse... if not for san." you almost whisper his name.

"he really helped me during the time. it honestly was nice to be able to talk to just anyone about it." because you're sure hongjoong can already deduce the fact you don't have anyone else besides yunho.

"and it was nice," you continue, " until it wasn't."

"and why is that?" hongjoong asks, his tone slightly teasing though you miss it completely, too immersed in the retelling.

"because..." you linger, biting your bottom lip and no longer able to look hongjoong in the eyes.

"because you've developed feelings for him?" he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, immediately pulling back your gaze as you can only stare dumbfoundedly.

"it's okay. nothing to be ashamed of." he chuckles, making your brows pinch together. "can't say i'm surprised. did think it was only a matter of time."

"wasn't like i planned to," you say, slightly annoyed, because you have no idea what he meant by his last comment.

hongjoong shrugs. "lots of things in life won't go the way we always plan. you know now."

"but only a matter of time for what? for when i'll like him? i never even considered it until some times ago."

"no. i know that. i meant it was only a matter of time till you returned the sentiment considering he's been hung up on you for so long."

you're now even more confused than you were, answering him swiftly, "hung up? as in he likes me?" the response causing the loudest chuckle of the night to erupt from hongjoong, even if he knows he shouldn't be laughing.

you have such a warped view of love, having it ever being in the form of idealizing yunho, he's also not surprise you have no idea that the reason san follows and pesters you all the time isn't because he's doing it to be annoying and make your life harder but because it might've been the only form to get your attention, and he wants it because he likes you--romantically.

hongjoong caught onto that as early as his second encounter with san.

you have wanted to grab a quick snack and drink before your class in an hour and invited hongjoong along, the both of you caught up in a conversation and forgetting about why you even came in the first place, when a tap on the table makes you forget what you were gonna tell him.

"hi," san greets, glaring down at you and smiling even if you're already exasperating just at the sight of him.

hongjoong met a lot of people at the last party, a few he's already forgotten, but he remembers san fondly mainly because he couldn't keep his eyes off of you all night (and cause you went off on a tangent about him not leaving you alone).

wherever he, you, and seonghwa were going, he found the boy following; if not physically, then always with a watchful gaze.

"i saw you didn't get anything to drink so i got you your favorite," he says, settling down the cup of hibiscus iced tea that you shoot to with lasers in your eyes.

"i don't want it," you blurt, not even bothering to look at him as you say it, because he's done more than enough to annoy you this week alone. and now running into him here, too.

"but i got it especially for you, made with love." his voice high and cheery, paying no attention to the irritation seeping from your body language and tone.

you stand up from the seat with a sigh, telling hongjoong you'll be back and head for the women's restroom.

"what's her problem?" san questions, scoffing and taking the seat you were just occupying. "i was just trying to do something nice."

"i don't know. maybe she's just pissed from a certain dickhead following her around all week," hongjoong says sarcastically, san raising an eyebrow in return before he shrugs it off.

"nothing that i also didn't do the week before."

"a pleasant person you sound," hongjoong quips, the both of them holding a stare-off so strong, the tension could probably shatter glass.

"and you are?" though san says it calmly, there's an edge in his delivery that's testing hongjoong's endurance.

"someone that actually respects her enough to not follow her around like a creep."

san snickers from the comment, a smirk overtaking his face.

"you don't have to act all high and mighty when you're just sticking around for the chance to get laid," san snarks, the smugness and such childishness from a person making hongjoong see red, but he manages to contain himself.

"we're just friends, but you can think whatever you wanna think. something tells me you're dying to be in my position, though," hongjoong bites back, the smirk on san's lips slowly fading at the last remark.

because he's seen it, the way san looks at him and seonghwa with envy and resentment written all over him.

but despite the initial harshness of the encounter, san grew on hongjoong overtime and vice versa.

they weren't close by any means (mostly because you wouldn't have allowed it), but they were able to be within the same proximity and actually have a good time together; the young boy even sharing a few of his interests.

"yes, he likes you," hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. "why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?"

"but it doesn't make any sense."

you swear you're not that dense, but you mostly just didn't consider it because of the way san is. he did nothing but consistently went out of his way to irritate you, only until the whole yunho and your sister shenanigans did you start seeing a different side of him.

"plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?" just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san's place.

hongjoong thinks about it. he isn't san, but in comparison to you, he's had far more experiences when it comes to relationships and dating, so he can offer a theory or two.

"i can't say exactly because i'm not him, but my guess is, he doesn't see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren't together."

"but he's also dated people. he was in relationships," you tell hongjoong more passionately, as if demanding for an immediate explanation to this nonsense.

"people date and are in relationships with others they don't like or love all the time," he answers nonchalantly.

but it doesn't make you feel any better, nor did it answer anything.

"so he's just an asshole and this is a mistake?"

hongjoong sighs and face palms, shaking his head before recollecting himself.

"maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself."

you let his words linger in silence, picking your head up again when he speaks.

"anything else you wanna get off your chest?"

you bat your lashes and bite your lips before telling him, "i-i also might've told him i'm gonna be leaving for japan although i haven't notified my boss of the final decision, yet."

hongjoong tilts his head and quirks his lips to the side, about to say something when someone in the crowd calls out to him.

"yeah i'll be there in a quick sec!" he yells back.

"it's okay, you can go," you assure, appreciative of his time.

he nods. "yeah, i'm afraid i can't keep them waiting any longer. but hey, i hope you figure things out with san and reach out to me if you want. my number is still the same."

"for sure," you reply with a smile.

"but you good? think you can get home by yourself?" he asks worriedly.

"yeah, i'm good. i can call a cab."

"alright. safe trip," he says one last time before standing up, but you stop him midway with a soft call of his name before he can disappear from your sight.

"i'm sorry... for what i said and did that day," you tell him, looking and sounding as apologetic as one can be, because you truly are.

he doesn't say anything until a few seconds later, the blank expression turning into a softer smile.

"apology accepted. i'm also sorry for that day."

"apology accepted."

going off on your own without letting san know the real reason why might lead to one of the biggest mistakes you'll make. but you're not sure if going to his place right now is the right choice, either.

you make your way to the floor he's on, doing the best you can to shut out any images from the other day; standing in front of his door while your heart beats loudly into your ears and stalling even further to think of what he could be up to at 11 in the night.

he might be asleep, or he might not even be home--or there's a good chance he's relieving the stress of today's event the way you know he would, but you'd rather not think about it.

the press to the doorbell is slow and hesitant at first, but you ring it three times at least, standing still for a good minute; the anxiety and nervousness from before replaced by a strange disappointment that he actually really might not be home.

with a low sigh, you turn your back to the door in defeat, barely two steps out when it flings open behind you, bringing back the nervousness from before as you swallow down the knot.

"y/n?" he calls out, your back still to him.

and oh how comforted you are just to hear his voice again, even if it hasn't even been a full day since you two last talked.

you finally face him with batting lashes as you meet his eyes, seeing his hair is still wet and he has a towel hanging over his shoulder, he was probably in the shower when you came ringing.

"hey," you say quietly, your lips drawing a thin smile because this is really awkward. you've never been in this situation with san before, obviously.

"what are you doing here?" he asks softly. "i mean, not that i'm not relieved to see you, but just that... you know, what happened today." his voice thins out toward the end, like he isn't sure if he's supposed to be bringing it up this soon.

but you're glad he does.

"i-i want to talk to you about it... truthfully, this time," you tell him, biting back for a short second before continuing. "is it okay if i come in?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod. "yeah, of course." moving out of the way and widening the frame for you.

everything is and looks the same as last time you were here, duh, but the air is different. it could be due to the fight this evening, or that there's a clear change in your relationship with san and how you view him.

you don't know whether to stand or sit, fidgeting and watching san walk over and plop himself down on the sofa in front of you, a chuckle escaping him when he catches onto the sight.

"you just gonna stand the entire time, or?" he teases, prompting an eye roll in return as you sit down in the very same spot you've sat plenty of times before.

taking in his body language and treatment of you so far, you wonder if this is just how san is. that he copes in a way that seems as if nothing is really bothering him... or maybe he got over it, you don't know.

he seemed upset earlier, but anything can happen in a matter of hours.

the thickest silence enters only a moment after, and it's only fair you take the initiative since you came to find him, and it was also you that made it a problem in the first place.

"earlier," you start cautiously, "i wasn't in the right headspace at all."

you wait for a reaction from him before adding anything else, afraid you'll bombard him with too much at once.

"it's okay. i could tell something was bothering you, but it bothered me too because i could also tell you weren't being honest."

you almost wanna cower because just him saying it already makes you feel guilty.

"and a big decision like that doesn't get made overnight. you were fine the day before. something big must've had to happen for you to change your mind so quickly, right?" the way he stares so deeply as if searching for an answer; the desperation in his voice is felt and only worsening your guilt.

"yeah, something did happen," you say, not sure where to begin but beginning nonetheless.

his features twist, glaring at you with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.

"is it... about yunho?" he asks carefully.

san enjoys the time he spent with you; even more than he would have thought, and though you both didn't start off on the best path, he sees potentials in the relationship changing for the better--not even romantically (he don't know if that's possible), but to where you two could be friends for once in the 20 plus years you guys have known each other.

for a bit, it seemed like it was finally happening. but maybe in your head and heart, yunho will always occupy a special kind of space he cannot compete with, no matter how hard he tries.

"no," you answer, much to san's surprise, taking a long pause and then finally telling him what made you so upset that you considered moving across the sea. "i saw her when i was coming up to your place yesterday."

you have no idea how he's gonna to take it; if it's something to boost his ego or maybe he'll just laugh it off because it's actually so dumb, but you try to figure which is it gonna be, gaze never leaving his sight.

but san raises a brow as if trying to decipher what you mean, then it hits him.

"nari?" he squeaks.

yes, nari. the one you're sure is with him at most parties, and also probably the one he was with that one time you ran into him coming out of a bedroom looking all kinds of fucked up.

you've seen san with a variety of girls through the years, but she's easily the most recognizable.

san looks to still be in his thoughts, now attempting to piece together what is it about nari being here yesterday that could make you so upset.

and when you see his puzzled expression slowly replaced by a smirk that only gets bigger, you know he's figured it out.

"are you... perhaps, jealous?" he says, the slyest tone ever gracing your ears, raising the temperature on your cheeks as they probably burn a bright pink.

you're blushing because of choi san... just incredible.

when you're still to prideful to admit it, he gets off from where he was sitting and shamelessly throws himself down next to you, making you scoot over as a reflex, but he goes out of his way to close the space between you two.

he's so close now, face merely inches away and pestering you to answer while you refuse to meet his eyes.

"you were jealous, right?" he tilts his head, tone annoying but also flirty.

"shut up," you spit, finally facing him and able to pick up his natural scent from this angle, you actually can't believe you'd even think about how attractive he looks in a moment like this.

his showered hair, bare face, and the proximity that makes the scene much more intimate--

"it's not funny," you add, because the smirk isn't leaving him at all, and now he's laughing, too.

"it's only because i think you're cute," he says, now suddenly swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in even closer. "like i swear, you didn't give a rat ass about me less than two months ago. did i finally win your heart?"

it feels like he's deflecting, so you try your best to ignore the antics, persisting with all seriousness, "so are you gonna explain yourself?" you haven't cracked a smile even once.

the bigger grin on his face mellows out into a softer smile.

"we didn't do anything," he says calmly, much to a silence from you because you're hoping he has more to say than that, which he does. "i had her over because i wanted to talk to her about something."

"like... what?"

he snickers at such coyness that you're doing an awful job at hiding.

"that i think it's best me and her stop whatever we had going on."

you can only blink because it's not exactly the response you were expecting, asking in a low voice, "and why is that so?"

"because i had a good feeling about you, and that you were gonna stay."

it turns so quiet after, you think you can hear the footsteps littering outside the hall; san's answer making you feel all sorts of way, you're not sure how to react.

"i'm sorry," you finally say out loud, the look on san unchanging even through all of this. "it was just overwhelming in the moment and it was as if nothing could make it better... especially after everything."

"it's fine," he assures. "i just can't believe you made such a life-changing decision because of that. is it too late to take it back?" he's a mixture of being absolutely serious and half laughing.

"yeah, about that... i, uh, i haven't told my boss, yet."

because it is big, and it is life-changing, and maybe you were hoping there could be something else that could convince you to stay.

san stares at you in disbelief before he cracks out a chuckle again, shaking his head.

"you're crazy," he mumbles, the comment prompting an eye roll from you.

"you scared me so much," san goes on. "i don't know what i would've done if you really left."

there's a brief stare-off before you blank and move your gaze to the coffee table at the end of your feet, mind suddenly drawing back to the encounter with hongjoong.

"i ran into hongjoong before i came here," you tell him, his head perking with interests. "i was drinking and he came in with his group of music junkies."

san only listens, giving you the space to talk until you ask of him yourself.

"you know what he told me?"

"what?"

you chuckle lightly before you can even get the words out; san watching in amusement and pondering as to what you could find so funny.

"he said that you have liked me for a long time," you say, no longer afraid to look him in the eyes while your heart beats silently but loud to your own ears, hongjoong's words replaying in your head while you await a response.

“maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself.”

san quirks his lips to the side and shrugs half-heartedly, his relaxed manner tells you he's just teasing you but honestly, san can be hard to read.

then he finally answers, after you're about to open your big mouth again, "i guess that's why i never liked being around hongjoong much, even if he's cool... the guy can be too observant."

he pretty much confirms it without saying so, a part of you relieved and then another now realizing you're gonna have to carry the conversation and decide what you wanna do with this... information. if you even have to do anything.

"since when?" you ask, just a little curious and wondering.

he hums and removes the arm that was around your shoulders this entire time to cross it with his other one as his back falls to the couch.

"to be honest, it comes and goes. but the very first time i remember liking you was actually when i first met you."

even at the age of nine, he thought you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. the way you dressed and the way you always did your hair, putting it in a high ponytail or a bun; and the way you liked to wear red and black most of the times made it easy to pick you out.

he was too young at the time and didn't know how to go about having a crush on someone, so he might've done a thing or two to piss you off, and it also didn't help that you were an emo ass kid as hard-headed as a rock.

you didn't just treat him that way, but also everybody else. everybody except yunho.

he loves his brother and has more than a civil relationship with him now, but he just never really understood what was it about yunho that made him so special to you.

"i mean, of course, you were mean as hell, but it's complicated," he adds, shaking his head and snickering quietly at the fact.

but you're more fixated on something else he just said, reiterating, "it comes and goes as in... sometimes you would like me and sometimes you wouldn't?"

“yes, he likes you,” hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. “why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?”

“but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?” just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san’s place.

"i guess you can put it that way?" his voice raises in pitch, as if unsure himself. "it's quite difficult to put in words."

"make me understand," you state in all seriousness.

because again, your biggest doubt when it comes to san is his ability to commit to you and only you. even if you wanna believe him, and he's proven himself the past couple of months that he can surprise you in good ways, what happened with yunho and your sister might've instilled some newfound trauma and trust issues.

you watch as he catches his breath and seems to linger on his thoughts for a few seconds more.

he starts, "there were times i really liked you, the feelings can be quite intense. like that one time when we both were dazed as hell and we kissed, it felt surreal. or whenever i think you look super hot in a certain outfit, the feeling also creeps up again. i also enjoy our banters, and pretty much any time we have a somewhat normal interaction, i would also get it."

you listen attentively with your stomach and chest doing something funny just hearing san speak about you this way.

"then there would be those times... times where you would annoy me and i'd think you're a total bitch. like when you insulted me in front of my friends or just the way you'd always flop around yunho like he's jesus or something. plus, my feelings and the chances of it actually happening are two different things, so it not being an exclusive relationship overall made it easy for me to do whatever i want."

“i can’t say exactly because i’m not him, but my guess is, he doesn’t see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren’t together.”

hongjoong pretty much got it spot on, and you suppose san doesn't owe you any allegiance. that would be ridiculous.

"well that's good to know," is all you say, still trying to process everything.

"what about you?" he asks coyly. "when did you start liking me?"

the question takes you aback, always so bold and daring, but now only staring back like a little deer caught in headlights.

"probably when i was most desperate, i don't know," you joke, a chuckle bubbling out of san. "no, but really, i think it's just when you were there for me when i needed someone the most."

you almost wanna cower because just talking about such a thing with san makes you feel cringe and embarrassed, and he sees it all over your face.

"that's nice to hear." he smiles, the sight pleasant to look at; the genuine happiness on him because you're saying so many nice things about him tonight.

there's a quick pause as you both think of what to say next, knowing what kind of questions and conversation usually follows, but not wanting to be the first to say it.

"so are you gonna be staying?" he changes subject, because you might not wanna get to that part, yet.

your eyes sparkles with something mischievous and playful, answering him, "well, i don't have much reasons to leave now, do i?"

he smirks and nods.

"yeah, i guess you don't." his tone changes the next and sounding much serious. "i was happy to see that it was you at the door. i was afraid this evening could've been our last meeting."

the reminder brings back a pang of guilt as you feel yourself shrinking on the couch.

"again, i'm sorry. just still trying to learn how to deal my emotions... efficiently at least."

"no, i understand. in the end, you came back and made up for it."

"i did." you smile lightly. you couldn't have done it without hongjoong.

there's a comfortable silence before san exhales and turns his head toward the kitchen, then back to you.

"have you eaten?"

you shake your head. "no, but i'm good. i should probably get back. i don't wanna be late to work tomorrow."

"i can drive you back, if you don't mind."

given you don't look like you're in the best condition, and along with a rosy scent he's always known you by, there's a whisk of alcohol that you've even admitted to, though you surprisingly look and sound more than coherent.

--

the car ride is quiet but comfortable as you both let the music fill the air. some songs you don't recognize, but it does goes perfectly with the night as san weaves through lanes a little too fast--something you'd probably yell at him for if you were in a more sober state of mind.

but tonight has gone so well and you don't wanna take any chances of ruining it.

he parks just right outside the gate of your parents place, unlocking the doors and snapping to you.

"here it is," he says.

"you not gonna go say hi to your parents or yunho?" you tease, considering his parents place and family is just next door.

"nah." he shakes his head. "it's too late, and i'm sure they already know i love them."

you smile and unbuckle your seatbelt. "alright."

he nods, and you both just sit there for a moment too long; the unspoken words and uncertainty as equally bothering to you as it is to him, but you're not sure how to bring it up.

you just know you don't wanna end the night without talking about it, at least.

"hey," you say softly, your voice quiet and blending into the night while san doesn't look away from you one bit. "i, uhm... i'll think about it, okay? i mean, if you want me to."

you're stammering and sounding the most awkward you've been all night (which is a feat), that san can't help but to laugh it off. and he knows you're not talking about the decision to stay.

"yeah, of course. take your time. you know i'll be here," he assures, always having a way to make you feel secure and listened to.

"i appreciate it," you mumble, sending him one last smile, about ready to head out. "thank you by the way."

he returns the smile and nods. "no problem."

"i'll get going then," you say, opening the door halfway and about to leave, but instead taking a deep breath as you turn to san, which surprises him.

he blinks in bewilderment. "did you--"

then it happens. a quick peck to his lips before pulling away to his stunned gaze, backing yourself out of the car and giggling.

"goodnight," you coo teasingly, shutting the door and waving him off.

it's crazy how just a week ago, there was a chance you were gonna be flying across the sea to go live in another country.

how much more sad and unhappy you felt; as if that was your only option left. but now already feeling two times better with your future looking a little more than just bleak.

you have surely told your boss you're gonna stay; the news a relief to him because it would cost a lot more resources having to find a replacement, as well as provide the proper training.

and you have surely talked to the landlord of the complex you were seeking a while ago that you're gonna take the place, after which she so kindly walked you through all the steps and what documents you needed to provide.

you just finished going over the contract with her the day prior, and all you need to do now is pay the deposit.

you should be able to move in by friday, she said.

when you told your family about the move, you weren't surprised they didn't seem to care all that much--your parents, at least. minjeong visibly took the news a lot harder.

even if you guys didn't have the best relationship growing up and aren't that close even now, the house's gonna feel a lot more empty now, she said. she's gotten used to you being around for more than 20 years now.

but you think a part of your parents are just relieved to finally have you out of the house and start life on your own after being with them for so long. you'd rather think of it that way, but after all, not like it's gonna matter all that much when you are moved out.

you also swallowed your pride and finally reached out to both hongjoong and seonghwa again (you're still a tad ashamed by the events that followed even if hongjoong had given you the green light).

you all have set up a time and place to meet up next month when you all should be available, so that's something to look forward to.

san has been helping you window shop for furnitures, recommending which he thinks is best based on his experiences and whatnot, though you made sure you tell him you want interior as minimalistic as possible.

clean and just overall simple.

you'll be moving most of the things from your current room to the new one, taking your bed that's an actual necessity with, so you'll worry about actually purchasing furnitures when you're finally moved into the place.

as for things with san, it's always a gamble regarding what's gonna go down whenever you do hang out with him.

on some occasions, he'd act completely normal and treat you as a friend similar to before. then more than half the time, he'd flirt and bring up the peck from a week ago, but never going further than that.

you feel as if you're both currently pushing and pulling and playing a game of who's gonna crack first.

"tomorrow," you tell san over the phone, currently ripping everything from posters to every pieces of decorations that might've been there since you were in high school, off of your walls.

it took a day later than expected to process all the paperworks and everything, but you finally received a call earlier that you can finally move in tomorrow on saturday.

yunho must've heard about it from your sister or san, because you definitely did not tell him nor have you even talked to him in a while. but he texted you this morning if you needed any help with the move, to which you kindly declined though thanked him for the offer.

he asked how you were doing and you said you were doing better. that you're excited to finally have your own place and for what's to come after that.

you and san seems close lately, you recall one of his texts at the top of your head.

yeah, a little, you responded.

"i'll be there, definitely," san replies back. "anything for you, my dear."

you grimace at the pet name and scoffs.

"and who said you can call me that?" you throw the things you've managed to gather into the cardboard box on the floor.

"don't act like you don't like it. anyway, i'll be there at 8 a.m. sharp."

"for what you just said, make that 7."

before you can end the call, you hear his laughter from the other line.

--

"and i want the t.v. stand over here... no! over here!" you talk to yourself, pointing to exact spots and ponder just how you want everything to be.

"a little help?" san's voice come from behind you, muffled by the box he's carrying until he plops it down near the kitchen, all out of breath.

"you're a big boy, you got it," you brush off the complaint, walking back to the bedroom and seeing your mattress flat on the floor, already huffing at the thought of having to build the bed frame back up again.

you hear the shut of the front door, san's voice piercing into the bedroom.

"that should be the last of it. for today at least."

you turn to head back into the living room, barely making it through the doorway when you thump against his chest, rubbing your forehead after as you look up at him.

"don't i get something for helping you out?" he says, tone sly and cunning, you don't even wanna admit what it does to your heart.

he's been doing this a lot more often--say things with the slightest innuendos behind them just to get a reaction out of you. or maybe he's trying to see how far he can push now that there's been a change of dynamic. kind of.

but you remain unfazed by his comment, keeping your ground and telling him, "if you come by later, i'll make dinner for you in return."

he looks over your shoulder to the unfinished bedroom.

"don't you need help with the bed frame?"

you shake your head. "i got it. plus, i've bothered you enough for today, so i'll let you go for now."

"i don't mind staying to help."

"no. i need some time to settle in. and, we still got a lot more work to do tomorrow."

he hesitates, but eventually gives in. that it's more about you needing this time to yourself; in a new environment and finally a place to call your own.

"alright. but if you need me, call me."

"i will."

he walks to the door as you follow behind, holding the door open for him while he now lingers in the hallway facing you.

"i'll come by later, though. i'm not forgetting that."

you chuckle and lightly roll your eyes.

"yeah, of course. and bring a drink or two. we'll celebrate."

"for you finally having your own place."

"for me finally having my own place," you repeat, a smile on your lips mirroring san's.

you spend most of the day setting up the bedroom and assembling the bed frame, thankfully remembering where everything goes from the top of your head because you threw out the instructions maybe five years ago.

you unbox everything and attempt to place the decorations where you think they look best for now, shoving all the empty boxes into a corner after for the next morning when you'll have to take out the trashes.

the living room is empty. no couches, no nothing because you haven't bought anything; the area for now only consisting of a rug and a small table you brought from your previous room because you and san need somewhere to sit and eat on.

when you're sure you're done with all the unboxing for the day, you run for the grocery store just around the corner, grabbing a pot, a pan, other essentials, then the ingredients.

it's almost 5 in the afternoon by the time you start cooking, and though it's been a long day, something about it feels accomplishing. being by yourself, cooking in your own apartment and not having to worry about anything else.

it might be too soon to say, but you think you've made the right choice.

as the stew's just about to be done, there's a knock at the door that you happily skip to, flinging the frame open to no one other than san with a plastic bag around one of his arms.

"hey," you greet.

"hey," he returns, taking it upon himself to walk in as if it's his own home, a strong aroma hitting his nose immediately. "wow, it smells good in here."

"i did say i was gonna cook," you say, shutting the door.

"yes, and i brought a drink or two just like you said." he wiggles the bag in his arm, then peeking over the pot boiling on the stove. "whatchu' cooking?"

"kimchi stew," you answer. "but i also bought some ramen just in case."

"that's perfect," he says, walking over and setting down the bag of drinks onto the floor just right next to the small table.

"sorry. i'm still working on getting a dining set." you half chuckle at the sad sight of the current setup.

"this will do."

he works on setting the drinks: two simple bottle of sojus he got on the way here because tonight isn't about having fun or whatever. he wants it to be meaningful, maybe even sweet.

you place the still hot stew in the middle, going back to the kitchen to grab two small bowls and utensils, handing him his and finally able to rest peacefully across from him while the steam from the pot blocks your view of each other.

"so how is it so far?" he asks, being the one to start.

"good," you answer, the same time you go in with a spoon for a taste test.

"feels nice, doesn't it? like you have all the freedom in the world." san does the same, his eyes lighting up when he's able to digest the flavor. "wow. you're amazing, y/n."

you can't help but roll your eyes, still trying to slowly settle into the way he'd just casually compliment you with such sincereness.

"i'm glad you think so. but yes, it is like as if i have all the freedom in the world. for now, at least." you chuckle, and he follows shortly after.

"in a month or so, let me know how you feel again."

you nod to his words, the next minute an air of silence as you both busy yourself with the food and drink.

it's more than past 6, the sky outside turning a darker color and painting the neighborhood more empty.

you're just about done with swallowing the portion of your food when a thought crosses, being the one to start speaking again.

"were you the one who told yunho i was moving?"

he looks up from his bowl at that with blinking eyes, placing it down on the table and shakes his head, his mouth still full.

"why would i do that? then i'd have competitions for who's gonna help you move in."

you laugh at that, placing your utensils down and resting your hands on your lap.

"how's yunho?" you ask, because even if you don't wanna think about it, yunho has been a part of your life. someone you clung onto for a large chunk of it, and it wouldn't be realistic if you were completely over it within just the span of a few months.

you no longer want to be with him, and you no longer think of the what ifs, but it does sting and ache a little when the reminder of the events comes up once in a while.

still, you wouldn't change anything and any regrets you've had, you feel you've already made amends with; only hoping to not make any more.

"he's been doing good," san answers. "the best i've seen from him in a while."

you smile, mumbling, "that's good to hear."

you don't know if you could ever say it to your sister, but for what it is-- whether good or bad, they deserve each other. yunho and her.

they've always been more alike and compatible than you and yunho could ever be and it was something you struggled accepting for the longest time.

"what about you? how are you doing?" san questions, catching your gaze in his. "i know it hasn't been easy."

because san acknowledges it, too. how much yunho meant to you. that you used to see nothing and no one else but only yunho.

"better," you assure, a soft and comforting smile on your lips while you pause and hold the exact words you want to say, letting it go when you feel most ready. "better because of you."

you see san swallowing and his food and the chopsticks he was previously holding now forgotten on the table as he continues giving you his full attention.

"you were there for me when i needed someone the most, and you're still here for me. i don't know..." you practically murmur the last part, shaking your head and chuckling quietly, "i liked yunho a lot because it seemed he was the first person who accepted me for who i am."

you sound like a broken record at this point, but talking about it--your feelings, and especially to san helps you understand it better.

"i was too stupid and uncaring in the eyes of my parents, and too odd and indecipherable in the eyes of everyone else. kind of ironic, isn't it? i hated the fact people judged me without knowing me when i, too, judged you without knowing enough of you."

san listens and he knows this is it. you're pouring all of your heart out with nothing left to hide, whether it's things you've already said or haven't.

you ramble on, "i mean, i always thought some of them might end up liking me if they got to know me, and then that turned out to be true for you, too. i got to know more about you and i do like you..."

san feels his heart caving in, wondering if this might be it as well. a moment he's been waiting so long to happen but unsure if you wanted it as soon and as much as he does.

"is this a confession?" he tries his best for it to come out as light hearted as possible, an attempt to conceal just how on edge he actually is.

there's a pause before you answer, shaky voice and all. "i guess so."

but san doesn't celebrate his victory too early, yet; a "but" coming out of you quick enough to stop him.

"i'm just afraid," you finally admit to him the very thing weighing you down, and why even though you like him, you're just the slightest skeptical actually doing something about it.

"what are you afraid of?" he asks concernedly, desperate to resolve all and any doubts you have.

you take a short breath. "just the entire thing with yunho... i keep fearing the same thing will happen. when i texted you that night that i was going to japan, it wasn't just because i was jealous, but also because it made me realize if i was only replacing yunho with you. i know that's not the case because what i feel for you is different from what i felt for yunho, but i still can't shake it off."

you're talking so fast, you don't even catch the exact moment san's already moved from across you to right beside you, taking your hands into his and looking you in the eyes.

"i promise you that what happened with yunho won't happen with me," he says, passion in his voice wishing for you to believe him. "i will make sure it won't."

and you do want to believe him. end all the doubts and skepticism here, but you also wanna be honest.

"but the way you are, san... it makes it hard for me even if i wanna believe you. you change girls like you change your underwear. how would i know for sure giving this a chance won't be a mistake?"

you can feel the way san tenses up at the harsher words, maybe a hint of hurt in his dull eyes, but he gathers himself rather quickly for his turn.

"i understand. i don't blame you given i don't exactly have the best track record, and i don't know for sure if this is gonna be a mistake, but i do wanna give it a chance... if you want, of course."

he takes a short pause before continuing, "i've never been with two girls at once, and i always broke things off if i don't see it working out. and if i don't want anything serious, i let them know. but i've never felt the way i'm feeling for you right now for anyone else, ever, and it's something that i'm sure of the more i'm with you."

you blink at that, your stomach tightening and breath shallow, the scene much more intense and real than the first night when you two first talked about this mutual interest.

"i always thought that it was because we grew up together, and that definitely played some part, but i also grew up with minjeong and never really felt anything particular about her. i do like you a lot, so let the decision be in your hand whether you want more out of this or not. you already know my answer."

his grip on your hands has become looser with time, the food and drink now long forgotten, the only thing in your mind is the way he's looking at you and how important your next few words are.

"we can give it a try," you slowly and quietly answer, watching san's pupils go wide as he breaks out into a wide smile after.

"thank you," he manages to say calmly and coolly despite his body feeling anything but that.

he places a kiss to the top of your hand, prompting you to pull away in fake disgust and a laughter.

"i guess dreams do come true after all," he jokes, another one that makes you roll your eyes, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.

"well i'm gonna go wash my dishes," you attempt to switch the subject, grabbing your bowl and untensils and head for the kitchen.

san quirks an eyebrow and raises his voice from his seat.

"but there's still so much food left." he stares at the amount left, then back to you, getting off the floor himself to follow behind, watching as you turn on the faucet and completely ignore him.

"oh i know what this is." he smirks, overtaking your hand and turning off the faucet, finally getting a reaction out of you as you snap your neck his way. "you're shy."

you blink, swallowing a quick knot and shake your head.

"i'm not," you say, turning back to aim for the faucet, but san beats you again, a stare-off ensuing with amusement written all over his eyes.

"you are. is it because it's weird we're practically girlfriend and boyfriend now?" he tilts his head.

hearing the terms out loud definitely is weird, you can't even deny the fact, instead nodding your head that gets a snicker out from san.

"yeah, it's gonna take some time for sure." he smiles, and the volume and tone at which he says it almost like he's trying to seduce you.

you've just realized how sensual and close you guys are at this angle. your back against the sink and chest basically rubbing his own as he's cornered you into this state, gawking down at you with a look that makes you wanna cower.

the quietest air goes by with his head only lowering each second, and you realize it, too, that you wanna kiss him just as bad.

with a close of your eyes, his lips is on yours the next, still at first, then slowly moving in an attempt to find the perfect rhythm until you respond.

your hands find itself resting on the counter of the sink as the kiss makes your back dig into the edge. it isn't messy nor done sloppily despite how long san's been waiting for the moment again.

it's rather clean but passionate, giving san a kick back to the night he got to taste you for the first time even if you both weren't in the right state of minds, but it's one he doesn't forget easily.

both his grip has made way to rest at your hips, giving it a light squeeze and it doesn't take long for your arms to come up and around his shoulders, the scene taking a quick turn and you feel yourself losing your breath with each passing second.

when you both finally pull away, you nor san know how many minutes has gone by, only that his hair is already messy and tangled when you haven't even done much to it, and you're still trying to catch your breath.

you're the first to break into a small giggle with san following after, his grip still at your hips and your arms still around his shoulders.

"wow. that kiss already made me hard as a rock," san blurts, breaking the immersion as you roll your eyes.

"yeah, i can tell," you reply, shifting your legs slightly because the entire time, san's boner was pressing down on it.

he laughs shamelessly, proceeding to press only harder because he likes seeing your reaction, and he takes it you're fine with it because you're no longer fighting it.

"tell me, are you the type to have sex first date?" he asks, his head slightly tilted and honestly looking so attractive.

"not really," you answer. "but is this really a first date?" you say it with the tiniest slyness and coyness, a lot of initial hesitation but when you really think about it, there's no reason to not sleep with san at this point.

especially at your age and with the little experiences you have, it's about time. beside, you always hear it's good to know and discover your sexual chemistry with someone in the early stages, because often than not, incompatibilities in that regard can destroy a relationship perfectly fine in other aspects.

"you're right." san smirks, causing a small squeak from you when he snakes his arms aroud your butt suddenly and lifts you onto the counter, but you stop him before he can do anything else.

"wait. can we do this in the bedroom instead? i'd just prefer my kitchen to be, you know... clean, since this is where i cook."

he laughs, catching the way your eyelashes would flutter cutely and nods his head, helping you down onto the floor again.

"thanks," you say, barely able to fix the wrinkles of your pants when he grabs your wrist and leads you to the bedroom, proceeding to throw you down on the bed the softest he can as he hovers over you.

the current position a bit unreal because san never really thought it would happen.

"just out of curiosity," san starts, "have you ever slept with yunho?"

you bite your lower lip and shake your head. "never any penetrations. he always said that should wait till marriage."

it's not that you didn't wanna sleep with yunho, but the other way around it seems. and now you know why.

san quirks his lips to the side and accepts the answer.

"if i did, would you not want to sleep with me anymore?" you ask just for the sake of his response, mirth in your eyes and amusement hanging by your tongue.

he cranks an eyebrow and actually thinks about it.

"that would be kind of nasty, i'm not gonna lie," he says, much to a laughter in response. "so i'm glad that's not the case."

"yeah, thankfully," you say after, teasing him slightly.

the both of you stay still for a few seconds more before san takes it as a sign to lower his lips again to capture yours for another kiss.

he lets his body fall on top of yours gently, his weight heavy but nice as you're comforted by the warmth of his skin that makes you feel even closer to him.

you hear and feel him shift, lifting his left arm off the bed to find the end of your shirt and bury his fingers underneath to where the bare of your skin is.

you can't help the low whimper at the sensation of his fingers crawling on your skin and making way to where your bra is, flinching just the slightest when his entire hand cups the shape of your breast.

he breaks the kiss to look down at your already messy state, whispering, "always wanted to know how these felt." the comment making you bite at your lower lip again, something so alluring about the way he says it.

you take it upon yourself to sit up, san removing his hand to watch you undress your top, the way you do it so sensually and almost teasingly like a scene straight from some porn video.

he's almost too into the sight, he forgets you're actually in front of him all flesh and bones, until you've already rid of everything and calling his name.

your titties out and spilling, the actual thing better than he could have imagined. better than all those times he'd spend trying to make them out and just picture how your actual breasts look.

"fuck, you're so hot, y/n," he hiss, the frustration on him makes you giggle before he latches on with both his hands and takes a dive, one nipple in his mouth and the other one being fondled with.

a moan escapes your mouth at the wetness of his tongue circling one of your nipples, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling and holding back an even louder moan when he squeezes your other one.

it goes on for a few minute at least; how he switches back and forth between your breasts and hand always on the other to make sure it's not neglected, whether he's groping it or playing with it.

"san," you call his name, his eyes shooting up to look at you with lips red from the service. you don't say anything, instead calmly getting on your knees and breaking the contact with san as he tries to guess your next move.

your gaze moves to his crotch area and he gets the message instantly, smirking in return.

he spreads his legs merrily as you crawl closer, one last look of exchange before you reach for the hem of his shorts, pulling it down along his boxer underneath just enough for his hard cock to spring itself out, his length sitting straight up and making you swallow a knot.

he adjusts himself enough for you to sit yourself between his legs, gaining the perfect access to do what you need to do.

with a careful grip, his cock is in your hold as you're stroking it up and down, observing the sight of him rolling his eyes and looking just so hot; all the more reasons you wanna have sex with him.

he isn't too long in length, but his girth is quite thick and just enough for you.

you get ready to take him in, lowering your head each passing second and stroking it faster until your tongue licks over the tip of his cock and he releases the sexiest moan ever as a result.

one of your hands still grip the rest of his cock while your mouth stays on the tip of it until you're there long enough, tilting your head to lick the side and and coating every inch of it before starting from the top again and taking his entire length in the best you can.

there's tears in your eyes the lower you go, but you also know just when to stop, coming back up just below the tip and going down again, repeating the action until you see san is a groaning mess of pleasure.

nothing but "fuck" comes out of his mouth, his right hand having found itself on a bundle of your hair, helping and guiding you as you give him the blowjob of his life.

he lets go and you pull away after some time, both of you huffing and puffing, smiles crossing your lips when both your eyes meet.

"jesus, you suck cock like you've done it a thousand times before," he comments, because his own is still recovering.

you sucked his cock as if yunho wasn't your only sexual experience.

but you only smirk and shrug, replying mischievously, "i have my ways."

he doesn't have time to think about that right now, though. all he wanna do is be inside of you. fuck you into the mattress and make you feel so good, and he's glad you feel the same with how you're already wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down as your back hits the sheet.

he kisses your accepting lips once more before breaking it to ask you, "you ready?" to which you nod and already starts pushing at the hem of your own pants, san helping you when he catches on, thrusting it until it's off all the way with you kicking it onto the floor.

san catches the light pink lace panties you have on, smiling to himself not long before you also throw that off, now left in nothing but to feel the most naked you have ever been in the presence of someone else.

you can feel san's length brushing the inside of your thighs and it only makes you wanna speed up the process, telling him you're ready.

he creeps his fingers to your opening to prep you up, sticking two in and the wetness already coating him that instant while a low grunt escapes your lips.

he takes it out with a pop and you pant, watching as he gives it a once over on his tongue, clearing all residues off his fingers before gripping his cock for your entrance.

it's suddenly as if you've forgotten how to breathe while you just wait for that delicious and burning stretch, groaning when you feel the tip enter, already leaning your head back as you squint your eyes.

then instantaneously and surprisingly, san shoves in his entire cock, the loudest moan yet leaving you and shortly accompanied by a passionate, "shit!" your arms digging into his shoulders already as you try getting used to the feeling.

your collection of dildos and vibrators nothing compared to the real thing as your back arches when he starts moving.

he thinks you look so sexy like this. under him and taking his cock so well. he'll fuck you, and he'll fuck you good for all those times back then when you'd always say you'd never fuck him.

for all those times you'd hurl insults his way and act as if you don't even wanna be in the same room as him.

but he's going to fuck you good, too, because he wanna love you. he wanna be with you and show you the love he's capable of; hoping this is a start.

he buries his face into your neck while he fucks into you, getting grunts and moans in response and he doesn't stop until he feels himself about to come, removing himself from your neck and hair to see the pleasure overtaking your face; a light smirk on your lips and eyes rolled back.

"i'm gonna pull out, okay, baby?" he whispers into your ear that you nod to, placing a kiss to your cheek after and getting up, pulling out of you and leaving your inside so empty now that you've come to love the feeling.

he pumps his cock a few times before shooting his load onto your stomach, your gaze fixated on it before he grabs both your legs and hangs it over his shoulders, going on to scoot you closer with a grip of your waist.

you're not sure what he's gonna do until you feel his warm fingers rubbing over the entrance of your vagina.

"can't leave you hanging," he says simply, his middle finger especially running up and down, then he slowly enters it along with his index as the sensation comes back even if not as fulfilling as his cock.

he keeps thrusting until your wall closes in on his fingers and a look of euphoria crosses your expression, pulling out sloppily and throwing his body down next to yours while you're still trying to catch your breath.

"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving a strand of hair covering your eyes behind your ear.

"good," you answer. "and you?"

"the best i've been in a while."

you both enjoy the temporary silence with the occasional breathing of the other person, staring back at the each other for what feels like a long time and a smile on both your lips.

san finally sits up and blinks down at you, offering a hand.

"let's go get cleaned up, and make sure you pee."

a relationship with san isn't gonna come without problems and challenges, but you suppose love is all about giving it a chance and putting efforts into it, and you wanna put all you've got and see where this goes.

a/n: welp, girls or boys... i am not happy with it but i'm glad it's over lol. (taglist gonna look mad weird bc it was being a bitch / apology to anyone who got tagged like twice. also removed lots of ppl who deactivated)

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cherrychristie @softie00 @crimson-mia

@hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa

@justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi

@fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @diorwoo @devilsmatches

@kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch

@sannwa @brown88 @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps

@sankatchu @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @woojirang @revehosh

@byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie

@shakalakaboomboo

@yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny

@svintsandghosts @kkayfan @arinyyy

@nevieatiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@nescaffei @vixensss @santineez

[ericshoney]

Forgotten ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Nick, Matt and Chris are home in Boston, which means you get pushed to the side slightly, resulting in them missing your biggest ice hockey game of the season.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames, mild neglect, reader is ignored by her family, shouting, crying, angst with a fluff ending.

a/n: I'm not saying that MaryLou and Jimmy would neglect/ignore their children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started the last time the triplets were home in Boston. You knew them being home was special and you loved seeing your older brothers. But it seemed when they were home, you were invisible.

You had turned sixteen a few months ago, around the same time the triplets came to visit. It was the last time you were really looked at by your family. Since then, all your parents seem to focus on is how Nick, Matt and Chris are doing.

You thought it was just because they were away from home and YouTubers, but they still focused on Justin a lot too, always texting and calling him, talking about him too.

It was just you they didn't seem to focus on anymore. The youngest Sturniolo. You told your parents stuff and it didn't seem to matter. You were also on your school's ice hockey team, but every time you mentioned it, the conversation would be brought back to the guys.

Nick, Matt and Chris were home now for a while, but you just went to school and when you got home, stayed in your room. You weren't really asked how your day was or if you wanted anything, so you gave up trying.

However, you had a big ice hockey match coming up. It was part of the championship within the schools and if your school won, you'd get a big trip to see the Boston Bruins play. You really wanted to win, since you loved the sport and your home team a lot, so you hoped with the trio home, you'd get at least one to hear.

You walked in from school and kicked off your shoes quickly, dropping your bag and rushing into the kitchen, where Nick, Matt, Chris, Justin and your parents were eating pizza. You looked and saw there wasn't much left, but luckily you had already eaten at school.

"Hey." You called.

"Hi honey." You mum called, something she really only did now.

"So I have some news! On Friday we're playing in the finals for the schools ice hockey championship, if we win, we get to see the Boston Bruins play at home!" You exclaimed excitedly.

"Sounds fun kid." Chris called, before going to fuss Trevor.

"Your all coming, right?" You asked.

"Oh yeah for sure." Justin answered.

"Okay, Friday at six. I got coach to save you all seats!" You cheered.

"Alright kid." Nick replied.

"I'm off to do some homework!" You added, before skipping off to your room.

That was the first time in a while you got a lot out of them. It made you feel happier and better, knowing your family was going to be there to cheer you on.

~~~~

When it came to Friday and half five, you were suited up in your gear, seeing many families roll in and take their seats. You looked over to where your family seats were saved, but nobody was there. You quickly sent a message in your family group chat, hoping they were on their way, but got nothing back.

"I'm sure they're coming, probably traffic." One of your teammates said.

You nodded, as your coach called you over for a pep talk. You really wanted to win and really hoped your family would show up.

But an hour later, as you cheered with your team, winning the championship and the trip to see the Boston Bruins at home, you looked over to where your family was suppose to be, to see empty seats still.

You felt upset. Angry and disappointed. They said they would be here and they aren't.

After a small celebration with your teammates, you shared your goodbyes and started to walk home. The team medal hanging around your neck made you feel slightly better, but not much.

When you walked into the house and saw your whole family sat around watching a movie, you lost it. You threw your bags down, your stick making a loud crash as it hit the floor. The tears fell freely down your face as you blocked the TV.

"Hey, woah what's wrong?" Matt called.

"What's wrong? What's wrong! Do any of you have an idea where I've been!" You shouted.

"Honey calm down, don't shout." You father said.

"No! I'm pissed! My team just fucking won the championship and none of you were there to see it! Next week coach is going with us to see the Boston Bruins play at home since we won! And what are all of you doing! Watching a fucking movie!" You shouted through sobs.

"Honey, calm down." You mum said, getting up to come over to you.

"No! Don't do that! Don't sit there and pretend it's all okay when it's not! None of you haven't bothered to actually see if I'm okay in months! All you care about is your sons!" You exclaimed.

MaryLou's face dropped and she felt the guilt instantly. She knew it was wrong and realised what she, along with your dad and brothers, had done.

You picked up your school bag and opened it, pulling out a certificate, throwing it on the coffee table.

"I also have had straight A's in every class for the past month, got an award for how well I've been doing too, but it's not like any of you care." You spat.

You placed your championship medal down as well before running up to your room. Your door slamming with a loud bang, as your family shared a look.

Nick grabbed your school bag and took some more stuff out of it, your mum went to stop him, until he pulled out a few more achievements of how well you had been doing in school.

"She's been doing amazing in school and at hockey." Nick said.

"Must be if she's getting all these achievements and the team won the championship." Matt mumbled.

"I feel terrible." Chris said, a frown etched on his face.

"She told us about the game, didn't she?" Justin called, making everyone nod.

"And we forgot to go." Your dad replied.

"What do we do?" You mum called, a few tears falling down her cheeks.

"Let her cool off for a bit, whilst we go to the store and get a shit tone of stuff to celebrate." Nick answered.

She nodded and the triplets left to the store, knowing they had to make it all up to you.

~~

An hour later, your brothers and parents had set up many decorations, got a few congratulation and apology gifts, a massive cake and ordered pizza, whilst you relaxed in your room.

You walked downstairs, thinking they had probably all gone to their rooms, only to enter the kitchen and see everything.

"What is going on..." You muttered.

Hearing your voice, your family turned around and saw you, giving you massive smiles and hugs.

"We wanted to say sorry, sweetheart." Jimmy said, kissing your head.

"Why? It's not like I matter." You responded.

"No honey, that's not true. We're sorry we got so wrapped up with your brothers and didn't take the time to give you what you needed and wanted." MaryLou apologised.

"We're sorry too, as your older brothers we should be looking out for you." Justin added.

"We wanted to make it up to you, so we got you loads of stuff." Chris said.

"Thank you." You said, a small smile appearing on your face.

"You can smile bigger than that, petal." Matt said.

He came over and poked your sides where you were ticklish. You whined and tried to move back, only for Nick to grab your waist and pick you up, running into the living room and throwing you on the sofa.

Your brothers ran in and started ticking you as your parents stood by and watched, smiling as your giggles and shouts filled the house, suddenly making the place feel more like home.

When the guys had decided you had enough, they let you up, laughing at your messy hair.

"We're really sorry we pushed you aside, kid, we promise it won't happen again." Chris said, holding his pinky out.

You smiled and hooked yours around his, making him smile. You had a good feeling things would get better from now on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[yourelliewillms]

i miss you on a train

ellie williams x reader

angst !! also fluff but mainly angst. liiittle mention of smut.

summary: it's been a year since ellie and you broke up, you haven't spoken since then and she probably thinks you've forgotten about her. what she doesn't know is that you're thinking about her all the time.

the first months were the worst. every night you had a dream about her, the picture of her in your mind would be enough to wake you up in the middle of the night with tears in your eyes or, sometimes, with a smile on your face. but that was the one you hated the most because your dreams usually felt so real, you felt her near you but when you realized it had been just a dream, your day would be completely ruined. you couldn't stop thinking about her. even if you tried, your mind would randomly bring memories that would only break your heart into pieces again and again.

after a year, you can say you're over her or at least that's what you like to think. you really want to move on and maybe start seeing other people to try to take her out of your heart. but everytime you take the train and raindrops fall from the sky to your window like one of those dramatic music videos, the first thing your brain does is bring her back. those green eyes that once looked at you with sparkles in them, strings of her auburn hair falling from her characteristic bun and the heat of her body that used to warm you up during the winter. you can't help thinking about every single detail of her, even if you try to put on your headphones and look out the window to stop those unwanted thoughts, the sound of her laugh in your mind would be louder than the song playing on your phone.

the rain just made things worse, it reminded you of that time ellie and you were on one of your first dates. it was raining, you were soaked but you didn't care at all because you just wanted to be with her all the time. you were walking under the rain, holding ellie's wet hand, was it wet because of the raindrops falling on her arm or because she was so nervous that her hand would sweat all the time your hair was already wet and there were raindrops on your cheeks yet ellie was looking at you with so much love, you could swear there were hearts in her eyes before she gave you that kiss in the pouring rain. you felt your heart fluttering when her shaky hands brushed against your face while she took you closer to her letting your cold nose touch hers, it was only you and her in the world. you remember how soft and hot her lips were that time. you remember the way your hair was sticking to your face and how ellie would stop kissing you for a second to take out the strings of hair that would get on the way of your kiss and then her lips would desperately look for yours again.

you haven't forgotten about those nights when she would show up at your window at 3 am just to show you the pages of that private sketchbook of hers with new drawings that only you were able to see, or some new song she'd learned in her guitar, or just because she missed you. you had to shush her because of how loud she was, always laughing at her own dad jokes and screaming but never failing at putting a smile on your face.

or that first night you spent together. you remember how gentle her touch felt when your naked bodies met each other for the first time. kind and slow the whole night, ellie making sure you were comfortable. her skin burned against yours and you could tell she was nervous just by the way her voice was shaking and her heavy breathing. "just tell me what makes you feel good" you whispered on her ear and she let go a sigh of relief as she nodded. you stood awake all that night because after you touched and kissed every single part of your bodies, you felt the strongest connection you'd ever felt with someone in your life.

the freezing weather brought to your mind those cold nights when you wouldn't talk to each other because some stupid argument in which her words felt like knives piercing in your heart while you told her all her faults. long nights when you'd fall asleep with tears in your eyes and the next morning wake up with migraine, sick to your stomach and your eyes swollen. however, your mood would be completely changed by just one text of hers "good morning, babe" pretending nothing had happened. not a single 'sorry' from either you or her because that was they way your relationship "worked" (it did not).

when you come back to the real world and get out of the bus, you'd look around trying to find her but she's not there. the bus stop is empty and she's not with you there, she's not waiting for you like she used to. the weather is cold and she's not there to give you her jacket, the rain is falling but she's not there to kiss you.

meeting ellie was one of the best yet worst experiences of your life because even if you tried, you can't forget the freckles on her face and the smell of her natural body scent. you hate the fact that you'll never be able forget her.

thank you for reading <3 pleaseee tell me if you find mistakes or if you have any constructive feedback !!

[captainhunnicutt]

One thing that always punches me right in the gut is how gentle Hawkeye can be with BJ when BJ needs to learn and/or see something for himself.

It starts as early as “Welcome to Korea.” BJ exclaiming “well, let’s try!” when Hawkeye says the one kid “has had it.” Hawk doesn’t make a move to stop Beej from looking himself, and just takes care of the fresh faced kid who really had no idea what he had just stepped into.

When BJ’s patient in “It Happened One Night” is progressively getting worse, Hawkeyes initial frustration is that he thinks BJ missed something - that there is internal bleeding. BJ swears he didn’t and Hawkeye takes it at face value and waits it out. When they start the last unit of B+, Hawkeye could’ve easily told BJ he had to open the kid up again, but he let BJ come to that conclusion on his own. And even Hawk’s delivery of “right” isn’t one of authority or a teacher telling a student they are correct. It’s one that sounds laced with apology - like I’m sorry you have to do this and everything that came before that lead you to that realization.

In “BJ Papa San,” Hawkeye tries to keeps BJ’s expectations and hope in check when it comes to stepping up and caring for the family. He tries to warn BJ. He tries to make BJ come to the realization he is setting himself up for heartache - without outright telling BJ those things. Hawkeye has seen it before and he will see it again. He knows how the story will end, and I think he knew that even though it would devastate Beej, BJ needed to experience the ending himself.

In “Death Takes a Holiday,” even going along with the attempt to keep the soldier alive until 26 December is a huge and gentle act. I’ll never be convinced that Hawkeye actually thought they’d be successful. I think he always anticipated at some point he would have to actually stop BJ and let the kid rest. But I also think he knew that somehow BJ had equated trying to save this kid until the day after Christmas to himself and his own survival. That keeping the boy alive for just a little bit longer meant that BJ himself would survive the nightmare a bit longer. That the win would fuel him a bit more. And because Hawkeye maybe realized all of this on some level, he let BJ try. The changing of the clock being the ultimate act of kindness he could’ve done for BJ and the family back home. I’m sorry you weren’t successful. I’m sorry I stopped you. This is the only other thing I can offer.

In “Bombshells,” Hawkeye doesn’t even have to try to be gentle and patient. BJ came to a hard realization or conclusion about his actions and choices almost immediately. No leeway had to be given. No waiting around and hoping he would figure it out without getting hurt. No gentle words of encouragement or warning were necessary - and I think that’s why Hawkeye seems a bit… out of his element in the scene where BJ is holding the medal and is going off about Hawaiian shirts and thumbing their noses at army fools.

That was, I think, when Hawkeye first realized that the best friend he has been watching have hard realization after hard realization - is finally as broken and helpless as he feels and has been feeling. That BJ is finally at that point that Hawkeye probably never wanted him to reach. There’s no more being gentle and patient.

He’s there.

[moethewriter]

Idk if you're comfortable doing these but maybe reader is on their month and needs comfort from finnick. Had mine last week the cramps, nausea and back pain was crazy fr lol. Or maybe just a comfort reading been a rough week

Please and thank you have a lovely day 🫶🏾

Of course I can write that anon! Periods are the worst. TITLE: Chamomile Delights WORD COUNT: 1.1k WARNINGS: Period content, fluff TAGS: Can be read as gn!reader (women aren't the only ones who get periods y'all!) A/N: Loved writing this one! Periods are ass, and as a non-binary person who gets them, we all need a little comfort! Hope you all enjoy this! I'm still not feeling 100%, this flu is lingering my friends, but writing has been taking my mind off of that! Love yall! Also not beta read as per usual, sorry for any spelling mistakes! Haha! -

It had come early, and to say you weren’t happy was an understatement. You wanted to die, truly lay down and allow yourself to become one with the earth because anything would be better than this shit. You didn’t remember the last time you felt this horrible during your cycle, usually you could manage but today was just … awful. Everything made you want to cry, or you when something inconvenienced you, you wanted to chuck it against the wall and watch it smash. You were nauseated at the smell of anything Mags brought you to eat, and to top it all of you just felt so fucking miserable.

Finnick had been gone for a few days, off in The Capitol, when your period had started, usually he would be there to provide any sort of comfort you needed but right now you were alone. You couldn’t blame him, Snow had summoned him and many other Victors for a week of galas and to introduce the new Victors. You feigned illness, which in some ways was true, but you were upset he couldn’t stay with you. Had you known it would start, you probably would have gone because at least then you would have your built in space heater.

You wanted to have him near you, as childish as it sounded. He always made you feel better and doted on you. He made you feel better and knew how to take care of you. But mostly you just missed him. His comforting smile, the way he would rub your lower back and just hold you to help you fall asleep. You were miserable without him, and you looked like shit. It wasn’t ideal, but you could make it through the worst alone if you had too. You felt like something that had just crawled out of a sewer drain, and you were sure you looked like it too.

Finnick hated seeing you so ill. He always wanted to make you feel better in whatever way he could. Whether that was holding you while you angrily muttered and cursed at the world for having cramps, or making you a small dinner that he knew wouldn’t make you sick. Well more like got Mags to make something while he presented it to you, he had never been the best cook and when you weren’t well he knew it was hopeless to try and feed you anything he made, it was sweet the way he tried so hard.

Some days he was a pain in your ass, but you didn’t mind that anymore. 

“When he gets home, I swear I’m going to kill him.” You whispered, throwing a pillow over your head, maybe if you suffocate yourself enough, the lack of oxygen flow would stop the pain all together. “Damn fucking President Snow calling his ass away. Maybe I’ll kill him next.” You grumbled under the pillow.

“Kill who next?”

You sat up straight, regretting your decision the moment you cramped up a little more. You felt a small wave of nausea hit you as you covered your mouth. You hadn’t expected him home until far later in the week. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting your eyes. “You’re home early.” You observed the glitter on him, his demeanor and the way he was dressed.

It wasn’t unusual for him to come back from The Capitol dressed far differently than anything he wore at home. It wasn’t Finnick’s usual style, he preferred a more low key look when he was in District Four, always had, but he did look gorgeous.

“And you look like shit.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. “Are you in pain?”

“I feel like shit, thanks for the observation, Finn.” You rolled your eyes. “Yes, obviously.” You were far grumpier than you wanted to be but you couldn’t help it right now, the light was too bright and you abdomen felt like it was crushing your insides.

“Ah. I see.” Finnick said, exiting the room.

You grumbled to yourself angrily, desperately searching for a position that gave you any relief, though nothing you had tried worked thus far. At least Finnick was here, despite the annoyance you had at the entire situation, you were thankful he was home early.

“Hot water, and a cup of tea.” Finnick said, returning a few minutes later holding a steaming mug and a small towel.

“Finn.” You felt tears well up in your eyes. “Sorry. I’m not upset, and sorry for being a dick, thank you.” You smiled, as he passed you the cup, you inhaled it and the smile grew.

Chamomile, a luxury to get when you were outside The Capitol. It was your favourite tea, always had been, and he  managed to snag a few boxes of it when he could. He always thought of you like that, whenever he could get you something he would. 

He sat beside you, gently pressing a kiss into your shoulder and you exhaled deeply at the simple, yet comforting gesture. Having his presence was already a comfort.

“What do you need from me?” He asked, pressing his chin to where he laid the kiss. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”

“Kill me?” You questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You sipped the tea he had brought you and felt the warmth take over your body. 

“Well … not that.” He snorted into your shoulder, his hands moving to gently massage your sides. 

“Thank you for the tea, and the hot water. Hold me, massage my back … work your usual magic Odair, because when I tell you I’ve been so unpleasant these last two days … I’m not lying.” You huffed.

“You’re not always unpleasant?” He teased, moving the massage to your shoulders.

You could feel the deep knots slowly being undone, and you let out a sigh of relief, you hadn’t realized the tension had been that bad.

“I will kick you off this bed.” You warned, shooting him a glare.

“Then who would take such good care of you?” Finnick smiled, continuing to work his magic. “No one can live up to this.” He laughed, a small sound coming from the bass of his throat. 

You loved his laugh.

“Hush, let me relax.” You closed your eyes, and focused on his soft humming,

Days like these had always been so miserable, you had gotten so used to riding it out alone, but now you had Finnick. He would always take care of you, and you would in turn, take care of him. There would never be one without the other, not anymore.

“I love you.” You said, simply, leaning into him.

“I love you too.” He said back, holding you closer.

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS A LOSING GAME

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: jake's attempt to see his girl the week before finals backfires on him leading them to their first fight and an outcome neither of them saw coming.

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), angst galore, swearing, mentions of alcohol and weed, drunk driving (don't do it), bad parental relationships, academic pressure

part of the loving you universe || also find it on ao3 here

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Finals sucked. Balancing studying and your social life sucked. Balancing studying, your social life, and your relationship sucked. This was the third week you’ve had to drive Jake away and you hated it. In the beginning he was understanding, giving you a kiss to your forehead when you asked him to leave. Or dropping by the apartment with some take out because he knew you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d even send the occasional Don’t forget to hydrate! text, to which he would get nothing more than a thumbs up in response. 

He got it, really he did. He understood how much your studies meant to you. You made it very clear at the beginning of your relationship that you weren’t going to drop everything for him. And he respected that. Hell, he admired you for it. He definitely didn’t have the guts to do it.  But it’s been three weeks of him trying to chase you down. Three weeks of quick hugs in passing and good night and good morning texts. Jake missed you. He missed you so fucking much and it seemed like you’ve barely given him a second thought. 

Jake knew he was being irrational. Of course you missed him. You wouldn’t have promised him to go out to lunch today if you didn’t. Yet here he was sitting alone at your favorite diner, reaching the top of the hour, and you still hadn’t shown up. His leg is bouncing up and down impatiently and the apples of his cheeks are red in embarrassment. An older couple a few booths away eye him with pitiful looks and not so silently whisper to each other, Poor boy got stood up. 

He checks his phone for the fifth time in the last three minutes to find no texts or calls from you. Jake desperately tries again, clicking on your contact and sending a distressed Where are you??? He barely waits another minute until he’s calling you once more. 

“Hey, this is Ace, sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message–Jake, stop tickling me! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”

“Unless you're a guy. In that case lose this number! She’s taken!” 

“Jake!” 

He sighs longingly at the sound of the dial tone, remembering the day you two recorded that message. Jake hadn’t seen you in so long. You felt like a lifetime ago. He missed his girl so much that his chest hurt. He’s frustrated beyond comprehension. Before he can even take a second to think about what he’s doing, he slams a wad of dollar bills onto the table, storms out of the diner, and hops into his truck like a man on a mission. 

Jake reaches your apartment in record time. Looking back on it now, he probably should’ve just called Nat, Bob, or Mickey. They would know where you were. Though in his defense, he took your radio silence as a sign that something was wrong. Maybe you were hurt or in trouble and couldn’t reach your phone. In this day and age, anything seemed possible. Could you blame him for being paranoid? 

Hastily making his way to the second floor, he barely blinks an eye until he makes it to the front of your apartment door. The faded gold 86 number plaque is staring him straight in the face and he can barely remember the last time he saw it. Out of respect for you, in case he really was overthinking things, he knocks on the door once. Twice. Three times. 

When he still doesn’t get a response, his heart begins to race, breathing heavy. He fumbles with his keys, fingers trembling as he tries to find the bright pink Hello Kitty replica key to your apartment. So it’s easy to find in emergencies, you had reasoned with him. He thought you were teasing him in the moment, but right now he has never been more thankful for your sharp thinking. 

He jams the key into the knob, turning it counterclockwise a little too strongly, and bursts through the door by his shoulders. 

“Ace?” He hollers into the quiet apartment. 

Jake looks around for any signs that you were there, only to be met with a spick and span living room and kitchen. Curse your stress cleaning intuition. He practically runs down the hall to your room. He sees nothing but your door and the yellow light illuminating from beneath. 

He’s barely thinking as he barrels into your room. He all but falls to the floor as you bolt up from your desk chair at the sight of him. 

“Jake?” You exclaim, rushing over to where he has fallen onto your floor. 

You grab him by the elbows, gently pulling him up. He groans into your touch, just now realizing how much he missed the feeling of your skin on his. Jake has to bite his tongue to stop the moan that wants to leave his lips. 

“Jesus, Ace, you scared me,” he breathes, steadying himself in your hold. Standing back up on his feet, he releases his hold on your arms and brings them up to your face. “You okay?” 

You nod as he continues to look you up and down with concern shining in his eyes. It makes you laugh lightly when he squishes your cheeks just a little more. “I’m fine, are you okay? I think I almost gave you a heart attack…” 

Jake opens his mouth to speak when a slightly staticy sounding voice cuts him off. 

“Hey, Ace? I think I’ll just call you later, yeah?” 

Jake’s heart drops to his stomach at the sound, and not in the way it did when you kissed him for the first time. This feeling was something less comforting and much more painful. It made him want to throw up on your linoleum floor. 

“Yeah, yeah Connor, I’ll call you back later,” you say, rushing back to your desk where your phone was lying face up on an open FaceTime call. You don’t even wait for him to say goodbye as you end the call. 

A burning heat crawls its way up Jake’s features. He’s sure his cheeks are probably inflamed in dark red. Who the hell was Connor and how the hell did you have time for him and not for your own boyfriend? 

“Jake?” You call out, breaking him from the fury that begins to build up in his chest. 

He doesn’t want to be that guy. He will not be that guy. He trusts you and he knows you would never do that to him. That still doesn’t stop the hurt that floods his senses. 

His mouth is open before he can even process the rest. “Do you know what today is?” 

You look at him with wide eyes and your lips quirked downward. “Saturday?” 

He hums. “Yeah, the Saturday we were supposed to have lunch at–” He pauses, giving you the benefit of the doubt. Hoping that you hadn’t forgotten and were just running late. But you don’t jump in and that makes his heart hurt even more. You just continue to look at him questioningly in a way that he would’ve found adorable in any other circumstance. “Rosie’s,” He finishes for you. “We were supposed to have lunch at Rosie’s.” 

“Rosie’s, shit!” You come rushing back towards him, grabbing his hands. You caress the back of his hands with your thumbs and you can only hope that he could feel how sorry you are; how horrible you feel for forgetting about your date. “I’m so, so sorry, Jake. I just caught up with…” 

“Connor,” he deadpans. “Yeah, I know.” 

He doesn’t meet your eye, and you pout at his clear irritation. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. I can do next Saturday? We could do Rosie’s then walk down the coast by The Hard Deck.” 

Jake doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs–much too harshly for your taste. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m afraid my girlfriend won’t be available again. Or worse, she might even forget.” 

You drop his hands, stepping back with obvious hurt in your eyes. “I’m sorry, what else do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe that you’ll try harder to make some time for me? I haven’t heard from you in days! Hell, I haven’t seen you in weeks! Yet, somehow, you have the time of day to call this Connor dude, on the day we’re supposed to see each other!” 

You’re pacing the floor with your own anger bubbling up inside you. You clench your fist before pointing at him with your other hand. “It is not my fault that finals are right around the corner! I have been studying my ass off night and day. Which you obviously wouldn’t understand.” You take a deep breath. “As for Connor, we were just studying together! Something that I can’t do with you!” 

“Cheap hit, Ace.” It was a known fact that he wasn’t the best at academics, but you knew better than anyone how hard he was trying, making your words hurt more than he cared to admit. Jake exhales deeply from his mouth, attempting to calm his beating heart so he doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. “Finals aren’t until another week! All I’m asking for is a day. Just one day.” 

“It’s not just finals, Jake,” you groan. “Not to me, you know that.” The two of you have been going in circles for the last fifteen minutes. You get where Jake is coming from, really you do. But you also need him to understand you. He knew going into this how important your studies were to you. One day could jeopardize your entire study schedule. 

“I know. But is it so bad for me to want to spend some time with my girlfriend? I mean, we haven’t gone on a proper date in months. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time we had an actual conversation!” 

You turn to him with narrowed eyes, furiously shutting your physics book. “So now I’m the bad guy? It’s my fault that we can’t hang out?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Jake frustratingly runs his hands through his already messy blond hair. He doesn’t know what to do with the overwhelming flood of emotions passing over him. 

You’re sat on the edge of your bed now, too worked up from all your pacing. “You know, I just don’t get you, Seresin. I’ve asked if you wanted to sit in with me. You’ve denied me every time.”

The sound of his last name falling from your lips feels like salt in an open wound. He hasn’t heard you call him that in ages. He knows he’s in deep shit now, but his pride won’t let him admit it. “Sweetheart, it’s not my fault that I don’t find Plato and standard deviation appealing, ” he sasses. 

“So, what? You’d rather I go out and party all night because, ‘Hey! It’s just finals!’” You throw your hands up in anguish as you deepen your voice in a clearly mocking tone of his voice. 

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do you even hear yourself right now, Ace? You need to take a break! I’m trying to look out for you. It’s not healthy to be cooped up inside like this all day.” 

“Well, I’m sorry I have other priorities that don’t involve you, Jake,” you sigh. 

“And yet, you don’t have a problem making Connor one of them,” he sneers. 

“He’s helping me study!” 

“I offered to help you study, but instead you told me to sit back because you could do it yourself.” He swallows harshly, feeling the reality of your admission sink in. 

If it hadn’t been for the tension between the two of you, you would’ve been able to bite your tongue and let the moment pass. However, you were so high strung at the moment that you let your temper get the best of you. “Well, it’s not my fault that I can’t just charm my professors and tutors into giving me a pass. Unlike some people, I have actually put in the work.” The moment the words leave your lips, you regret it. Jake’s shoulders fall and you see the way he visibly deflates and shrinks into himself. You desperately want to take it back, but you did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you felt guilty. 

A moment of silence passes between you both. The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing that escapes you both. 

Amidst the silence, Jake stifles the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes by running a hand down his face. Of all the people to insult his intelligence, you were the last person he ever expected to do so. Not once, even before you started dating, had you said anything about how he struggled with school. Sure, you got frustrated with him, but you of all people knew how much work he put into his studies. Unlike everyone else, you were able to see him as something more than the dumb blond frat boy people joked that he was. When everyone else would claim to be teasing Jake about his studies, you were always the first to stand up for him. Saying, Jake Seresin is capable of more than you know!, making him feel validated and more confident in himself. Now, your words felt like a slap to the face and for the first time, he found himself questioning everything you’ve said about him. 

He should’ve known the honeymoon phase wouldn’t last forever. Everything was going so well, he didn’t have any reason to think things would go downhill so fast. Of course, Jake was too overconfident about your infatuation with him. He shouldn’t have assumed that you were as in love with him as he was with you. That was his first mistake. 

“You know what? I really thought you were different,” he says softly. 

“Jake–” Take it back! The voice in your head shouts. Take it back, you idiot! But the apology, the words of affirmation, the reassurances–they all get stuck in the back of your throat like molasses. 

“I guess I was wrong about you, Ace.” 

You furiously shake your head. You didn’t mean it, you swear you didn’t mean it. In the heat of the moment, you let your emotions get the best of you. You knew it wasn’t an excuse, but you needed him to know that you would never mean what you said. 

You thought the world of Jake Seresin. He is smart and he has so much potential. He was better than you at physics and knew all the parts to an F/A-18 Super Hornet. He could calculate distance, time, and speed, like it was nobody's business. He impressed you in so many ways and you were so proud of him and how much he has improved. Deep down, you knew he was right too. This wasn’t healthy. You should’ve tried harder to make time for him after everything he has done for you. But the shame of the hurt you’ve caused, the shame of what you did prevented you from saying it. 

“You know what? You can have all the time you need with Connor because I’m done.” 

You push yourself to a stand with teary eyes. “Done? Jake, what are you saying?” It was like a nightmare come true, hearing the words you’ve feared to hear since the moment you called it official. But it was probably inevitable, right? You always bring yourself to your own demise. You’re not sure what hurt you more–Jake’s words or the fact that you weren’t so surprised to hear him say it? It was almost like you were waiting for this day to come, knowing Jake Seresin was just too good to be true. 

His heart is fighting against itself. One part of him is begging him to stay and work this out with you. The other is too hurt to even look at you right now. In the end, he ends up listening to the side of him he didn’t even think existed until now: the side that didn’t want him to be with you. “I don’t know. I think I need some time.” 

You nod, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, Jake.” 

He sighs before turning on his heel and grabbing the door knob. 

“Wait,” your voice cracks. “I love you.” 

Jake swings the door open and leaves. It takes everything in him to not turn around and gather you up in his arms right then and there. For the first time, he doesn’t say it back. 

__________

You don’t see him for a week after that. You’re so distraught that you throw your entire study schedule out the window. This was all your fault. You know it is, there was no denying it. All Jake wanted was to be with you and you couldn’t give him that. You were so obsessed with the fact that everyone expected you to get perfect grades each semester, that you didn’t even notice you driving away one of the most important people in your life who didn’t care about any of that. That loved you with or without the academic achievements. The only person who cared more about your wellbeing than your stupid grade point average. 

The truth is, you were scared. Things with Jake have been going so good that the fear of something bursting into your little bubble and setting it all aflame only continued to intensify. 

Because you don’t deserve good things unless you earn it, your mother had warned. Because you can’t be loved unless you’re perfect, your father berated you. 

And you are far from perfect, you know that. You also knew that Jake wasn’t your parents. But no matter how many times you told yourself your parents were wrong, their words continued to seep in every single time Jake reminded you that love shouldn’t be conditional. 

So you did what you did best, you studied. You strived for perfection. You hoped that Jake could see that you were worth sticking around for. 

He left and in the end, it just confirmed that nothing you do could guarantee anyone to stay. 

You ended up failing your finals. They don’t hurt your overall grade too much, only bringing them down one letter grade from your solid A’s. 

You don’t tell anyone about the fight you had with Jake. You don’t want to burden them with anything else. Everyone was busy. Nat was happy with Javy and Bob and Mickey were busy planning their San Diego Comic Con trip. You hadn’t talked to Bradley and you assumed that Jake had already told him everything. You hadn’t even texted Reuben about joining him for trivia night at a nearby bar. 

But you do text Jake. You don’t know if he’s read any of them or not, but you text him anyway. You told him that you failed. You told him that you weren’t planning on going home for the summer because you didn’t want to face your parents. You told him you missed him and that you hoped this isn’t the end. But most importantly, you told him that you loved him and that if you could take it all back you would. 

You so desperately wanted to knock on his door and apologize for what you said. To continue apologizing until he knew it in his heart and soul that you didn’t mean a damn thing. You’d imagine how it would go. He would open the door and you would quite literally pour your heart out to him. Then you’d throw your arms around him and tell him you love him before kissing him senseless. 

You imagine that he’d smile against your lips, an action that you loved so much. He’d pull away and tell you that he forgives you. He would hold you close and tell you that he still loves you. 

However, you weren’t naive. He probably hated you now and you wouldn’t blame him if he actually did because you hate yourself too. 

Heartbroken and intoxicated to the bone is how you find yourself after another unanswered text to Jake. You remember him telling you to let loose and take a break so that is exactly what you did. 

The frat house is loud. You’re not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you showed up to a frat party without telling any of your friends or that you’ve had more alcohol than the amount of water you’ve had in a day. 

Everyone knew about Delta Chi’s rivalry with Alpha Sig, so you didn’t have to worry about running into anyone you knew here. 

You had lost count of how many drinks you’ve had three cups ago and you’re a bit impressed with your own resilience considering how much you hate the smell of alcohol, let alone the taste of it. You find yourself wishing that Jake were here to see you taking a break. That way you could prove to him that you were capable of doing things for him too. 

The Alpha Sig house is packed to the brim with people. Everyone’s faces are a blur as you stumble your way through the crowded rooms and hallways, following the smells of sweat and weed to take you where you want to go. 

You end up making your way to the patio and meeting some Alpha Sigs and sorority girls who were planning on driving into the city to hang out at a bar instead. They shockingly invite you to tag along and your inebriated self happily accepts. 

You find yourself forgetting all about Jake, grades, and your shitty parents. You were just a girl in college who stopped giving a fuck and decided to have some fun. As you continue to giggle with some of the girls in the backseat of a car you don’t even remember getting into, for a moment, you see yourself with Nat, Javy, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Bob. You hear Bradley’s dad jokes and Natasha’s giggles. Mickey and Reuben’s obnoxious singing and Bob’s own laughter follows. Then you see the guy sitting beside you with his arm around you. It takes you a second to recognize that his eyes aren’t your favorite shade of green. Hell, they weren’t green at all. 

Your world comes crashing down in an instant. You’re not with your friends and you’re not with Jake. You don’t even know where and who you are with. You just know that you want to go home, that you want to be with Jake. 

Before you can even think about begging the person in the driver’s seat to stop the car, you hear a scream then suddenly, your vision goes dark. 

a/n: in my defense, i haven't done a good angsty fic in awhile*immediately goes into hiding* pls don’t hate me….. and again, as always the inbox is always open and thank you all for reading!!

a/n 2: also ty @intrepidacious for giving me their first fight idea it was a big help!!

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[obeyme-and-myfics]

Hi!! May I request a continuation of short!MC with the side characters? I love your writing! 💖💖💖

Yes, of course! I took a little break from posting on the internet so that's why it took so long for me to respond. Also thank you! I try to write as well as I can. (●'◡'●) Some side characters are gonna be missing from this cuz I'm not quite comfortable writing for them yet.

I haven't met Raphael, Mephistopheles or Thirteen(I am planning on making their own parts when I do tho!) in anything other than events. So I'd like to apologize in advance because if I remember correctly one of your favs is Mephisto o(TヘTo) (I hope this doesn't sound weird since we've only met briefly on the discord server /gen)

Anyway onto the actual prompt (￣y▽￣)╭

Part 1| Part 2(here)

Prompt: How Obey Me Characters react to a short MC/Y/N

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Luke(/p)

Headcanon List

CW/TWs: Teasing for your height,

Diavolo

I don't think he'd have much of a reaction seeing as most people/demons are a lot shorter than him

This man is easily 7ft I don't think he gives a fuck, everyone is puny to him

He'd definitely say something by accident, something he doesn't think would bother you

He's a himbo and oblivious to this shit

He'd probably say some shit like

"You're quite small for a human" or something like that

Crouches/Bends down to talk to you sometimes

Only when he really feels like it

I swear he's not trying to be rude

He'll pick you up only if you ask

For any reason too, he adores his small human

He respects you and doesn't want to help you like that unless you want him to

If he sees you struggling to grab something he'll get it for you

Gently reminds you that he can help you and you don't need to struggle with these things while he's there

Worries about other demons taking advantage of your small stature and hurting you

So he checks in on your wellbeing more often than he would if you were taller

If he knows you're around, he's making sure he doesn't accidentally run over you

I'm so sorry! to be fair he's probably gotta do that with bitches 5'7 and below

He'd probably enjoy holding/hugging you too

Like you ask for cuddles this man is cradling you in his arm

Maybe even rocking your ass to sleep

Barbatos

Man has nothing to say about your height

Like he couldn't care less about it and has the foresight to not say shit if you're a little insecure

Not that he would even if you weren't

If he sees you struggling to get something off a higher place, he's helping even if you don't ask/don't want him to

That's just kinda how he is

If you request he stop that he will but you need to communicate your wants and needs

If he sees you getting bullied(/lh) for your height and you look distressed he'll give to culprit a bit of a scolding

Depending on how bad it/Who it was it'll be harsher

Of course he'd like for you to defend yourself at least a little bit

When you do he can't help but smile a little to himself.

He likes to serve the ones he cares for so if any difficulties arise due to your height he'd be happy to attend to them

That is to say its only if you ask/he has the time to

He is still the butler of the future ruler of the Devildom after all

Barbatos also wouldn't treat you any different than how he would treat some one of average height or taller

Solomon

He makes the occasional comment about your height to your face

Giggles about it in private on occasion LIKE A BITCH

It's only occasionally that he does this tho

Overall its not that big of a deal to him

He's been alive long enough that he doesn't really care

Will absolutely help you with things your height hinders you from doing

If you're being bullied about your height he'll give you a chance to defend yourself before jumping to your defense

Will pick you up and carry you sometimes just for shits and giggles

Other times he picks you up and carries you away to hang out or aid him in another one of his magical endeavors.

and now we have Nightbringer /j

He's not doing anything to talk to you on your level Slay, king Solomon. Slay

He thinks its mildly entertaining to watch you struggle to grab something off the top shelf/anything out of your reach

He's a bit more careful with you than he normally would be with others

Has offhandedly suggested making something to make you taller if you'd like it

you gonna whoop his ass or should I?

He enjoys watching you stand up for yourself despite your height

It can be intimidating when people who are much taller than you pick on you and he understands that

or maybe you're not intimidated in the slightest and just wanted to unleash a can of whoop ass on some assholes who've been picking on you Period. Slay honestly.

He understands that too, and enjoys watching it go down

He finds it satisfying

Simeon

Won't comment on it most of the time but he does think its really cute

Only makes a comment when he's asking if you need help getting something higher up than you can reach

and its normally something like

"Oh! MC did you need help? It looks like you can't quite reach that."

A bit more careful with you than he would be normally

Though he's gentle by nature most of the time Sadistic Simeon has me in a chokehold fr fr

He won't get down to your level or do anything to demean you

not intentionally anyway

He doesn't say anything about your height for the most part but he will slip up every once in a while

It's nothing bad he just lets it slip he thinks your height is cute

He encourages you to stand up for yourself but has no problem sticking up for you or stealing you away if you're being bullied too much.

Happy to help with anything your height makes difficult when you ask

Other than that he doesn't treat you any differently due to your height

Luke

He's just happy he's not the only short one here.

If you're shorter than him he doesn't comment on it but he is excited to not be the shortest there.

He would make a few comments about it but you just gotta tell him to stop and he will

He doesn't want to make you upset with him

Sweet baby just wants to bond with you over the others making fun of your heights

Doesn't hesitate to yell at anyone making fun of your height and calling you names because of it

Makes sure you're okay afterwards

He's getting made fun of for this though

The brothers would take to calling him your guard dog

He barely gives you a chance to defend yourself but will back up if you defend yourself before he can

He borderline clings to you like a sloth

Comes to you every time he needs to vent about everyone bullying him for his own height

You're his favorite human now

If he's taller than you, he will do his best to help with things you can't reach.

He's happy to help out his friend

[tgmsunmontue]

I never knew I was missing you 4/? WIP

Jake is just trying to find a connection. Shame the guy he connects with the most is lying about his identity online; because he sure as hell isn't A-list Hollywood star Bradley Bradshaw.

ONE TWO THREE

PART FOUR

                “First though, I’ve got something I need to take care of…”

                “Yeah?” Brad asks; and there’s a mad scramble of the phone, he sees a flash of nostrils up close and god, Brad is complete and utter dork. Cute with it though, he thinks, and also technologically inept as he clearly presses the phone against his head without turning the camera off, so all Jake can see is diffused dark orange and red shadows of what is probably his hand. But he does feel like Brad in closer now, his breathing still gasping gratifyingly as he lets out a groan. It makes Jake’s toes curl. “Let me see?”

                “Of course…” Jake says, and he angles the camera down his own body, even if his own view is no longer Brad’s body but some squished up part of either his face or hand depending on whatever camera he still has on. He wants to ask him to hold his phone out, so he can see his face, finally get a good look at him, but then it’s shifting anyway so Brad can look at the screen of his phone and Jake sees him properly. Oh. He definitely has more than a passing resemblance to Bradley Bradshaw, although he has a beard and much longer hair, and it’s a riot of gorgeous looking curls that Jake wants to run his hands through. He is not disappointed in the slightest. God, maybe his name is actually Brad too.

                “Hi…” he says, voice soft and Brad blushes and Jake smiles at him, gut doing a little flip that this is the guy he’s been chatting with for the last couple of weeks and he’s better than Jake ever imagined.

                “Hi…”

                “You want to watch me huh?”

                “Yeah. Please…”

                “Fuck, yeah. Give me a second…” Jake says.

                He wasn’t wearing anything to begin with, the photo he’d sent over an hour ago had been from an hour before that, because it had taken him that long to decide to actually send it, nerves a little frayed about sending something so overtly sexual despite their flirting just getting more and more blatant he’d left some of their conversations needing to jerk off. Right now he reaches for the lube and squeezes some out, mumbling about what he’s doing so Brad can hear him. He has no idea what his camera is showing right now, just has to hope it’s not too embarrassing a sight, suspects it’s likely the ceiling or bedsheets.

                Then he’s picking his phone up again; Brad’s face comes back into view and he’s biting his bottom lip, it’s all pink and wet and Jake can’t stop staring. He moans when Brad’s tongue comes out to lick his lips and then his mouth is just open, lower lip trembling ever so slightly and Jake imagines those same lips around his cock and grasps his cock with a slick hand. He works himself hard and fast, his cock definitely more than interested knowing that Brad is watching him avidly, and Jake never realized he might have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but apparently, he’s not too old to be learning new things about himself.

                There’re no clear spoken words between them, just Brad staring at Jake through the screen of his phone and god he wants to be in the same room as him, have his hands on his skin, have Brad’s hands and lips on his body. This is all a step closer; his orgasm punches out of him, catching him by surprise and his body shudders through it as he swears under his breath. He’s really going to have to change the sheets on his bed now.

                “Still want to lick you clean…” Brad says, and his voice sounds rough and Jake lets out a broken little laugh.

                “I’ll let you sweetheart. Trust me. I’ll let you. Fuck.” He doesn’t want to say that the second orgasm was better than the first, it feels a little unguarded to admit that. Fortunately Brad doesn’t seem to notice or care, his eyes just dark and intense and yeah, he could definitely pass as Bradley Bradshaw if he wanted to.

                “I’ll call you later. Tomorrow at the latest. Set up a date?” Brad asks, tone unsure like Jake is going to say no.

                “Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

…            …            …

                He takes a quick shower, grins at himself in the mirror and feels so damned good, and it’s not just the post-orgasm high. Jake had seen his face and not freaked out. Hadn’t even seemed to care at all. Had just smiled at him and looked gorgeous and hot and so happy that it had made Bradley feel so relieved. He pulls on sweat pants and scrubs at his hair to dry it as he walks out to the smaller shared kitchen that they use when it’s just the three of them.

                “Ugh. There’s a Bradley that just got his rocks off.”

                “Perk of being a lifelong friend.”

                “Peril. You mispronounced peril.”

                Bradley just laughs, in too much of a good mood for Neil’s teasing to have any impact.

��               “So you took my advice huh?”

                “Yep. Video called him.”

                “Great. So all the misunderstandings are cleared up then.”

                Bradley blinks, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Jake definitely saw his face, but there wasn’t any sudden look of realization on his face that Bradley is in fact Bradley Bradshaw.

                “Uh… maybe? I… yeah. I think so?”

                “You think so? Did he not say anything along the lines of holy shit, you’re actually really Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “No?”

                Neil rubs at the space between his eyes and then his brow and forehead.

                “Oh my god… right now you look like a fucking basement dweller. You’re lucky Callie has better things to do than shave you in your sleep.”

                “What?”

                “He didn’t recognize you, you complete fucking idiot. I mean… clearly he still thinks you’re hot. I mean, he did see your face right?”

                “Uh… it wasn’t exactly pointed at my face to begin with…”

                The expression on Neil’s face turns pained again, the forehead rubbing has resumed and Bradley is starting to freak out. Neil’s right, Jake hadn’t reacted, maybe he should have shaved. He collapses onto the sofa beside Neil.

                “Give me your phone.”

                “What?”

                “Give me your phone,” Neil repeats.

                Bradley hands it over, leans in close to watch as Neil unlocks it, because of course both he and Callie know his passcode.

                “What are going to do?”

                “Shh…” Neil mutters, rolling his eyes and then he’s going to recent calls and Bradley realizes what he’s going to do and makes a grab for it. Too late, it’s already calling Jake, and he hasn’t even had time to make him a contact in his phone, it’s just a number. He doesn’t even know if Jake will answer; yes he said he’d call him back, but it’s not even been thirty minutes. This is mortifying on so many levels.

                “You missing me already?” Jake asks, and Neil has put him on speaker. It’s Bradley’s turn to rub at his forehead, glaring at Neil while he does so.

                “No. I’m definitely not missing you. Jake right?”

                “Yeah. Who’s this? You’re not Brad…”

                “You’re right, I’m not Bradley. My name is Neil Vikander. I live with Bradley. Can I change this to a video call?”

                “Uh, I guess? Why?”

                “We need to clear something up and my friend is an idiot of awardwinning calibre.”

                “Fuck you too Neil…” Bradley mutters under his breath.

                “Hi Jake, I’d like to introduce you to Bradley Bradshaw. Yes. That one. He is an idiot and currently hasn’t shaved in over two weeks, but I’ll go and get his license if you need actual proof.”

                Neil has passed him back his phone and he cups it in his hands, stares down at Jake’s face which is looking stunned. Bradley’s stomach is churning, suddenly terrified that Jake is going to hang up, or run, or… fuck. Never talk to him again.

                “Holy shit, you’re really Bradley Bradshaw…”

                “Yeah. I mean… I did keep trying to tell you…”

                “You have a beard…”

                Bradley’s not quite sure why that’s a sticking point.

                “He hates shaving…” Neil says, leaning over so Jake can see his face in screen and Bradley wants to shove him away as much as he wants Neil to give him a hug and tell him it’s all going to be alright. “You really need to shave. Pretty sure you don’t want your first kiss to be a mimicry of Planet of the Apes…”

                “Neil…” Bradley groans, but Jake is snorting in what Bradley really hopes is amusement, and he hasn’t ended the call. He lets hope flare to life. “I can take it from here thanks.”

                “I expect a mention in the best man speech! Actually, I expect to be best man!”

                “Oh my god, please ignore him…”

                “Holy shit. It’s really you… since when do you need help getting a date? Using fucking dating apps?”

                “Callie made the profile…”

                “And yet you used it… This doesn't feel real.”

                “Yeah well, she had some valid points. Some people only like me for the fame, or what I can do for them…”

                “Well, I gotta say, you do things for me… I’m just also very interested in reciprocating.”

                Bradley knows he’s blushing, curses the fact that his complexion shows it so clearly.

                “You getting shy on me now?”

                “No. Yeah. Maybe? I don’t know…”

                “Eloquent. You’re pretty fucking adorable you know that? Biggest nerd I think I know, and trust me, I know a few…”

                “So. Can I take you out?”

                “Hell yeah you can. You can show me your pinball machine collection.”

                “I’d like that. Plus I’ll shave.”

                “Uh. Can you leave the moustache?”

                Bradley grins slowly.

                “Yeah, I can do that.”

FIVE

[thatgirlstrawberry]

How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 5

In which Rossi flies down to LA that very night and Y/N finds out who her attacker is along with how her dad had known all along

Warnings: angst, crying, sadness, protective rossi, cursing, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Every hour in a hospital had been said to last 500 when you were waiting on someone you love. Spencer sat in the waiting room with his leg bouncing up and down. His eyes were trained on a spot in the floor.

On the phone, Rossi said that he was on his way and that he would be there in an hour or two because he would be taking the jet. He also sounded angry, scared, worried— just all of the emotions really.

A million thoughts ran through his head. Who would want to hurt Y/N? What did the note say— the note.

He quickly got up from his seat and rushed towards the doors he came in from. He decided that he should probably move it so ambulances could come in.

So that’s what he did. He quickly moved it out of the way and into a parking space near the doors before turning on the lights in the car and looking for the note.

He avoided the bag of puke sitting on the floor and searched for the piece of paper.

When he finally found it, he decided that he’d wait until he was inside to read it so, he stuck it in his pocket.

His feet carried him quickly into the hospital and he looked around. His eyes landed on a familiar figure damn near leaning over the reception desk.

“I don’t care who fucking brought her here, take me to my damn daughter or I swear to god I’m gonna—“

“Rossi! Rossi, stop!” Spencer shouted, rushing up to him.

The man turned around. “What the fuck happened, Spencer!?” He shouted. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything?”

Spencer was going to answer but he saw the doctor who took Y/N coming their way. “Her doctor.” He pointed.

Rossi moved away from Spencer and met the doctor halfway. “Please, you gotta tell me what’s wrong with my daughter.”

Spencer made his way to them and the doctor glanced between them. “You’re the father and you’re the husband?” He asked.

Rossi shook his head. “This— no this is not her husband. It doesn’t matter, what’s wrong with her. What happened?”

The doctor clicked his tongue. “We pulled some of her blood for testing but I suspect she was injected with a high dosage of Opiates causing her to overdose. We gave her narcan but I’m not sure we gave it to her in time to prevent any brain damage.”

Rossi sighed and covered his face. “Okay— how is she? Can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She just woke up but she’s not fully down from her high. Her words aren’t gonna be coherent but I would try to keep her awake for as long as possible so we can asses her brain activity.”

Spencer and Rossi nodded. “Thank you.”

“And try to talk one at a time. Don’t confuse her.” He waved his hand and began walking back towards the room.

It was silent between Spencer and Rossi as they walked. The doctor rambled on about her symptoms and side effects.

He lowered his voice to a whisper and smiled as he walked I to the room. “Y/N?” He spoke. She sat in bed, a frown on her lips. Her eyes were narrowed and they were darting around the room.

“Hi…” She spoke quietly, her voice hoarse.

The doctor glanced back at the two men. “There are some people here to see you.”

They stepped into the room and she looked confused for a moment. “Daddy?” She whispered. She looked at Spencer.

“Hi, Y/N.” Rossi spoke softly, walking up to his daughter’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

She cleared her throat. “Uh… I don’t know how I feel.” She shrugged.

Rossi nodded. “That’s okay, honey.”

Her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes. “Am I dying? I-I don’t know why I’m here— I think I’m dying— Spencer, please. I don’t wanna die.”

Spencer walked up to her, looking at Rossi making sir he knew that it was his turn to speak. “You’re not dying, Y/N.” He shook his head with a small comforting smile. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Her hands fidgeted with each other. “W-well what happened? I don’t know what happened.”

“We’re not sure yet, honey.” Rossi answered. Her head snapped over to his direction. “But we’re gonna figure it out, all right?”

Spencer cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you.” He told Rossi, nodding towards the door.

He nodded and looked at his daughter. “We’ll be right back, okay? Try to stay awake for me.” The men walked out of the room after she nodded sleepily.

“What, Reid?” Rossi snapped when they were in the hallway.

Spencer took the piece of paper out of his pocket. “This. On the way here, she said whoever did this gave it to her.”

Rossi snatched it from between his fingers and unfolded it. “‘A liar, your… father is… I deserve someone too. The twig’s heart will be snapped in half when I get you back because it will be forever. And you will be mine.’” Rossi furrowed his brows. “What the hell is this? What does it mean?”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know. Our best bet right now is to look at the hotel security cameras. We might catch him there.”

Rossi sighed. “You know I’m gonna have to call the team if we can’t do it ourselves right?”

Spencer nodded. “Rossi, please. Please don’t tell anyone about us. That way, I can still work on the case. You know that you need me.”

The man sighed. “Why don’t you get ahold of the LAPD. I need to stay with my daughter.”

Spencer nodded and sighed heavily, walking away and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

The LAPD showed up at the hospital and hour after Spencer called them. He stood outside of Y/N’s room getting the sense that Rossi didn’t want him in there.

The doctor told them that a side effect of the Narcan they gave her was crying so he stood out there listening to her sob uncontrollably. Rossi had to resort to singing her an old Italian nursery rhyme to get her to calm down.

The lead detective met Spencer in the hallway followed by a few officers. “Good evening. Mr. Reid?”

He kicked off of the wall and nodded. “Yes, hi. Detective Lassiter, thank you for coming.” He nodded.

“So, unfortunately, we don’t have a warrant to look at the security camera footage.” Detective Lassiter explained. “But we do have permission to sweep the floor for any DNA left on the walls and floors only.”

Spencer was angry. “No cameras? Are you fucking serious?” His chest heaved. His fists were in tight balls.

He nodded somberly. “I’m sorry sir. We’re gonna need to ask the victim some questions, if now’s a good time.”

Spencer shrugged. “I’m sure she won’t remember anything but you can try.”

He turned into the room and his eyes softened when he saw Y/N in her father’s arms rocking back and forth.

“Y/N?” He called softly. She lifted her head from her father’s shoulder and looked at him.

“Oh h-hi.” She looked at the men behind her.

He walked forward slowly. “This is detective Lassiter. He wants to ask you a few questions, is that okay?”

Y/N looked at her dad nervously. “C-can I?” She asked. Rossi tilted his head and nodded.

The woman sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. She looked up at Spencer and glanced at the chair next to her bed with pleading eyes.

He cleared his throat and moved through the room, sitting beside her. He scooted the chair a little closer.

Detective Lassiter sat in the chair in front of the bed and the officer behind him pulled out a pen and pad.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” He asked.

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Y/N R-Rossi.”

The officer scribbled down on the paper. “And how old are you?”

“26.”

The detective straightened up and cleared his throat. “And I understand that you were… taken out of the hotel by someone. Do you remember what you were doing when it happened?”

Y/N inhaled sharply. “I uh… I remember my teeth hurting.” Her voice was quiet. “And it was cold. And I remember… Ice.” She shook her head.

She glanced up at the officer who was nodding and writing. “Anything else?”

She looked down at her fidgeting hands. “I know… he said something to me.” She nodded. “I can’t remember— I just know he said— something.” Her eyes watered. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything else.”

She reached for Spencer’s hand but remembered who all was in the room and played it off like she was just grabbing the edge of her itchy hospital blanket.

The detective nodded. “Okay that’s okay. Take your time.” He sighed. “Can you remember anything before the ice.”

Y/N pressed her lips together. “Um… her eyebrows furrowed. Um… sweating a-and feeling really… good.” Spencer could tell that she didn’t know what was happening. She was describing the sex that they had before she left the room.

Rossi behind her and glared at Spencer. Of course he knew what was happening. He cleared his throat. “Okay. That’s it, detective. Thank you.” The father nodded. “I think Y/N needs some rest.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He got up from his seat, looking at Y/N. “Ms. Rossi, thank you. If you remember anything else, give me a call.” He leaned forward and placed a card on her bed.

She nodded and looked at her father and then Spencer. “Thank you. I will.”

The officers and Detective Lassiter left the room and it fell silent. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

She let out a heavy breath. “I’m trying to remember the words.” She said. “I— I Can hear the voice but the sounds are— like mixed a-and I don’t know- I can’t—“

Rossi shushed her soothingly. “It’s okay, Y/N. I promise. We’ll find this son of a bitch one way or another.” Y/N nodded and Rossi stood up. “I’m going to go get you something to eat, okay?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, dad.”

He left the room and she looked at her boyfriend. “W-wait, Spencer why does he think you’re here?” She asked. He looked at her with furrowed brows and parted lips. “Wait, how did he even hear about this? Did someone call him?”

Spencer sighed and leaned forward. “Um… Y/N, he knows.”

Her eyes widened. “He knows?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She covered her face with her hands and groaned quietly. “Is he mad at me?” She asked. “At you? Oh, I don’t want him to be mad at you.” She shook her head.

“He hasn’t said anything about it yet. He’s not mad.”

Spencer still felt like he was lying to her somehow.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer paced the halls of the hospital trying to get ahold of Penelope. He bit his lip as the phone rang too slowly for his liking.

“Boy wonder! How’s your mommy trip?” She asked when she answered the phone.

He cleared his throat. “Garcia, I need you to hack into a set of hotel security cameras but I need you to do it privately.” He spoke. “And I need you to send the feed to my phone.”

“Uhhhhhh first of all, say hi to me first. Second of all, why and what hotel?”

He licked his lips. “Hi, García. Angeles, 6th floor please.” He nodded.

“You never said why, Reid.” She hummed.

“Because I’m trying to figure out who drugged Y/N, now can you please just do it?” He snapped.

There was a gulp on the other end and his phone made a beeping noise. He pulled it away from his ear and pressed accept on a feed share notification.

Suddenly, his screen filled with a not so smooth video. “Can you switch angles so I can see room 612?” Spencer asked quietly, biting his lip. The camera switched angles four times until it stopped so they can clearly see the room and the ice machine across the hallway. “Okay, now can you back it up to like 9:45 pm?” He asked.

The video began to reverse itself quickly and Spencer saw a familiar figure on the screen. “Okay, stop!” He shouted.

Garcia stopped pressed rewind and let the feed play. Y/N was seen walking out of a hotel room with a black bucket. She had a smile on her face and a pep in her step.

She stopped at the ice machine and a figure dressed in black pants and a black shirt came from the entry way of the hall. It didn’t look like Y/N noticed him. He came up behind her and grabbed a handful of ice out of the bucket and shoved it into her mouth. There was no sound on the feed but he could tell that was to muffle her shouts.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and brought the phone closer to his face. He hated seeing her like this but he had to figure out who did this to her.

Y/N began kicking her feet as he lifted her off the ground with one arm as he reached into his pocket with his other. The bucket fell from her hands and spilled all over the floor. Spencer’s eyebrows popped up when he saw her bite his hand.

Then, he pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it harshly into her neck. She went limp in his arms and a few ice chips fell from her mouth.

He put her down on her feet and propped her against his side and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Her feet were barely moving and her head hung down low.

“Oh my god.” Penelope gasped.

Spencer shook his head. “Rewind it to the part where he came into the shot.” He ordered.

She did and he told her to pause and zoom in. “There.”

“Is that…?” Penelope started.

“Benjamin Fitz.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N looked between her dad and Spencer. Rossi still had no idea who drugged Y/N. Neither did the victim.

“Okay.” He looked at Rossi. “I know I wasn’t supposed to do this but I called Garcia and I had her hack into the security cameras at the hotel.”

Rossi sighed. “What the hell, Reid.”

“Just stop- I know who did this.” He told them. “It was Benjamin Fitz.”

Rossi looked down and Y/N gasped. “No, no. That’s right.” She nodded. “I think I recognized his voice. I knew I recognized his voice.”

The older man sighed. “Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

She furrowed her brows. “Dad, it’s not your fault-“

“I only set you up with him because I wanted to get back at you and Spencer for going behind my back.” Y/N paused her movements and looked up at him. Spencer shut his eyes like he didn’t want Rossi to say anything.

Y/N scoffed. “Wait. Y-you knew?” She asked, her face getting hot. Rossi nodded and she looked at Spencer, tearing up. “And you knew that he knew?”

Spencer opened his mouth but no words came out.

“So.. you set me up with a psycho because you were mad and you…” She looked at her boyfriend. “You let me run around like an idiot when I didn’t even have to all along?”

“Y/N, I—“

“Get the fuck out.” She snapped. Rossi tilted his head but neither of them moved. “I’m serious get the fuck out!”

Rossi sighed and looked down before doing as she wished and leaving the room. Spencer was still left standing there. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t want—“

Y/N scoffed. “Spencer, get out. Seriously, I don’t want to see you right now.”

He let out a sad breath and turned around, walking out the door and shutting it.

Y/N sat there in tears for a moment.

A moment until she heard a shout and a gunshot.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Next chapter is the last!!!! Also who expected it to be Ben from the book party?!?!?

And the ending to this one might seem a little rushed so sorry about that :)))

Love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist:

@mrsgweasley

@tuesday-yellowxx

@blue-willows

@monzarella

@winkev1

@criminallymagic

@mermateyepmatewithte

@lipstixstain

@urlovelydarling

@dreatine

@f-me-reid

@fantastic-fans

@aleyda5

@thatsonezesty13

@creativeuser101

@d0ntfeedaftermidnight

@jacksonms31

@scorpiofangirl1109

@perseuswaves

@baseballmama35

@lilybarnesposts

@s-udaku-my-love

@melifluorei-d

@lavenderrway

[goldfishontheceiling]

wait imagine this

sometime between island and s2 ep27 of action, (probably on his time at playa de losers), ezekiel gets his grubby little farmer boy hands on the internet.

specifically, youtube.

now this motherfucker is absolutely mindblown because "oh wow! people post stuff here and people watch it!!!"

long story short, he makes a youtube channel.

and calls it therealEzekielMiller

(i swear this isn't an advertisement [as far as i know] the channel doesn't exsit)

so. it doesn't do too well. my guy has like the shittest camera quality and doesn't even know how to change his pfp.

also, all his titles sound like clickbait. like imagine seeing this title as your scrolling.

(REAL) SNEAK PEAKS AT PLAYA DE LOSERS!!! (Courtney freakout!?!?) 😨😨😨

yeah...

however, no matter how grainy and pixelated the footage is, it soon becomes important.

because that's some of the last footage of him.

we all know what happened to zeke in world tour. and if you for some reason don't, please don't look it up if you haven't seen it yet. watch the show. (now ill admit that's advertising).

so, ezekiel's feral, he goes missing, and this youtube channel is throughly investigated to try and find any potentially helpful footage.

the most they found was courtney freaking out. and izzy taking the camera like 5 times. pretty much everything else was about this "brilliant invention" called harmonica rap.

but anyway, a bit after RR, they finally find ezekiel.

and he immediately gets sent to a hospital because HOLY SHIT IS HE GREEN???

the doctors conclude that zeke should eventually be able to return to (almost) completely sanity. so, while he goes through this longggg healing process, the media hears his story.

and that old youtube channel? yeah it EXPLODED

and what does ezekiel do with this new found fanbase?

he gets scared and avoids the internet.

i mean can you blame him??? he went from having NO FANS to HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS, and the only memories he has are blurry ones where he's green and growling at people.

but he couldn't avoid it forever.

and for the first time in over 7 years, ezekiel posts another video.

and it BLOWS UP

THE WHOLE CHANNEL DOES

but deep down our boy ezekiel is still a sheltered farm boy. he had to google how to change his youtube pfp.

so just imagine this scrawy, slightly green, teenager/early adult in front of a camera, rambling nonsense and throwing "yo" or "eh" into pretty much every sentence.

just IMAGINE THAT

"get ready with me to get a rabies shot"

"guys what does lol mean?"

"storytime: i went feral in a cargo hold"

"reading my old rap songs"

"riding a horse after 7 years"

"what does gay mean?"

"get ready with me to see my ma and pa again"

anyway yeah in conclusion give farm boy internet access.

[theprismyyy]

Brasil-sil-sil-sil

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

Tw: I tried to translate as best as possible some Brazilian terms and things that in reality I think would not really have a translation, but that I still tried to make it understandable for everyone.

(English is not my first language)

Natalie who loves you very, very much and is obsessed with your culture, like she thinks it's so amazing and loves hearing you talk about it <3

Natalie has never been interested in really learning other languages, I mean I think she would know a little bit of Italian but mostly the swear words, but Portuguese? She is really interested in it, mostly the swear words (of course), but she really thinks it beautiful so much when you speak it and she always says that you sound like you are "singing".

Natty would try to make Brazilian food when she saw you sad and missing Brazil. She's not really a great cook but what counts is the intention and hers were definitely the best.

Her first real trip abroad would probably be with you and obviously with the destination being Brazil :))) thinking about your family who travels during Christmas and New Year's time to celebrate with their relatives in your country and you beg your parents to take Natty along :3

Natty who is literally like this: 😲 and you're still just at the airport lol

Leaving the airport and taking an Uber to her grandparents' house and she spends the whole way glued to the window like a puppy, looking and pointing at everything she sees and thinks is cool.

Thinking about living near the Center/Copacabana and she can see Christ the Redeemer from inside the car and she's all bouncy like:

"I want to go there, can we go there? Please, come on, come on, please it looks so cool!!"

Natty really likes Brazilian architecture and the aesthetics of more traditional houses because it is so cozy and has a warm, comfortable vibe.

Natty who loves her family because well...people can say whatever they want about Brazil and Brazilians, but the fact that we are an extremely warm people is kind of undeniable.

You would probably serve as a translator to mediate conversations between her and her family members since few of them actually speak English, yet, despite the language difference I can easily imagine her having conversations with your grandmother without your help where neither of them can really understand what the other is saying, but somehow they understand each other (??) they are not speaking the same language or anything but you just catch them talking and agreeing and getting along really well while Natalia helps her peel potatoes in the kitchen.

Natalie would be 100% a fan of MPB, samba and funk (especially old funk).

I can really see her loving Rita Lee, Alcione, Claudinho e Bochecha, Mc Marcinho (and secretly Mc Carol and yes, I think she would probably know what Carol's songs are about because she asked, she would also find the lyrics the height of humor).

Natalie who totally loves and worships Brazilian bikinis and would look like a cartoon character, eyes popping out into big hearts and tongue drooling 😭😭 she just loves you so much and thinks you look so hot in one.

She loves how Brazilian barbecue is so different from American barbecue and I honestly think she would like Brazilian barbecue better.

Her love garlic bread.

She would love to go to museums and tourist spots and would want to take lots of pictures with you and she is not really a fan of taking pictures but she just wants to have memories of good times with the girl she loves so much :(( she is so sweet.

I would love to take out at night to enjoy Pedra do Sal and I know she would love.

Trying to teach her to samba but she is a bit clumsy, however she learned to shake it funk like a good Brazilian very quickly and you are in shock, because what the hell did they do to your sweet girl 😭😭😭 your cousins taught her and she thought it was super fun, she shows it to you like she just won an award, full of pride for having learned and it's cutie.

Imagine going to the beach with her and having to drench her from head to toe in sunscreen because she's so white and otherwise she'd be as red as a shrimp 🤏 so baby, I can't stop thinking about her with her cheeks and the tip of her nose covered in sunscreen because her face is the place that burns most easily.

Drinking caipirinha on the beach and eating corn with butter or fried fish with potatoes <33333

Playing ball with random people on the beach because a game between two or three people always ends up attracting strangers who end up joining in the game :)))

She would 100% buy a bracelet, earring or ring from some artisan seller on the beach.

Getting bikini tans on the beach with her and bleaching your hair on the roof of your house with her and your cousins ♡♡♡ imagene her sitting on the roof with your hair wrapped in aluminum foil and a towel over your shoulders with your cousins while you wait for it to be time to wash the product.

Again talking about the fact that Natalie likes swear words because she would really love them and would love the variety of swear words and expressions that Brazilians use to show anger or indignation because there are SO MANY options and they seem so much funnier.

100% buy a blouse from Brazil or if you have one she just takes yours >—<

Imagine celebrating New Year's Eve with her on the sands of Copacabana and kissing her when the countdown ends, she would melt like butter in your arms and love the fireworks

Now let's talk about the religious part:

A little discretion and observation: Umbanda is an eminently spiritualist and spiritualizing religion. Therefore, the faith professed by its practitioners, most of whom are mediums, requires a strong belief in God and in the existence of the spiritual world that interacts with the material plane all the time. For those who are interested, I recommend that they research and study more about it, as it is a very beautiful and interesting religion; here I will not go into much depth on the subject because I am not a practitioner and I do not see myself having a great place to speak and understand it, despite finding it incredible.

She would be like a curious puppy honestly, asking questions all the time and being all curious about everything.

She would try to record the names of the Oxirás and Pombas Gira because she thinks they sound good and are cool to pronounce.

She would find the clothes and leashes so cute and I can see her asking if she can wear a leash too <3

If she went to a Terreiro during a party for one Oxirá she would literally look like this: 😲😲 like so amazed by everything.

She would love to interact with the entities.

If she had the opportunity to be in contact with the Erês at some point, I can really imagine her sitting on the floor playing with them and being so sweet <33 and they would really like her.

She would like to try to learn how to sing a point and try to understand the "difficult words" and she wants to learn so much because she knows that your religion is so important to you and if it is important to you, then it is important to her too.

I would be extremely angry if someone tried to offend your religion in any way.

@pinkbunny888 @jellyb3annn

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