#always grateful for a chance to be grateful

[harknessxo]

Cigarettes out the Window

Paring: Sugar!mommy!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You go into a fight with your parents about your grades and ran to the only safe place you know, Agatha.

Warnings; age gap, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut, girl penis, mommy kink.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/n: So Agatha becomes reader’s sugar mommy at the end basically but it’s not mentioned.

“A d, Y/n!? Really?!” Your mom yelled angrily.

“It’s just the first quarter! I’ll get the grade up!” You yelled back.

“You know how much hard earned money we are spending to send you to college and this is how you repay us!?” Your dad exclaimed.

You had come back home from taking one of your college classes and were bombarded by your parents about your grade in one of them. This had been going on for a couple minutes and by this point, tears stained your cheeks as you tried to reason with your parents.

“I’m sorry! I’m trying my best-“

“Well it’s clearly not enough! You better get it together before we stop funding your tuition.” Your dad said firmly, leaving you stunned.

“You…You can’t do that!”

“Oh yes we can and we will if you don’t bring your grades up.” You stayed silent looking at them with hurt in your eyes before running up the stairs and into your room. You slammed the door shut, sliding down it, taking a seat in front of it while hugging your knees. You started to sob as you replayed their hurtful words in your mind.

You knew you should have moved out the second you had the chance but when they offered to pay for college you couldn’t resist. Westview University was ten minutes from your parents’ house so it made no sense to move out.

You cried until you had no more tears left. As you started to get up off of the floor, you looked at your night stand where your pack of cigarettes laid and remembered what your lovely neighbor Agatha had told you. ‘If you ever feel unsafe or need an escape, my backyard gate is always unlocked for you.’

You were so grateful for her. She lived five houses down from yours. Agatha was always so sweet to you and your only true friend as embarrassing as it sounded, especially because you were twenty and she was in her fifties. She knew almost everything about you because you always told her everything. She was also very rich. She had a very stable career which always made you question how she ended up being your friend. She was your safe place when your room wasn’t enough.

You quickly snatched the pack of cigarettes and sneaked out your window. It was already dark outside so you went unnoticed as you walked over to her house. You were careful to make noise as you opened the gate latch as you sneak inside. You knew Agatha still wasn’t home, her car wasn’t in the driveway and it was a Friday which meant she was probably staying late at work.

You took a seat at the edge of her pool, dipping your feet in the water and pulled out your lighter, lighting a cigarette on before taking a long drag. You didn’t really like smoking, neither did Agatha, she always told you how bad it was for you but it calmed you down in stressful situations like this.

As you were finishing up your cigarette, you heard the living room sliding door open and looked up to find Agatha leaning against it wearing her work tux.

“Hey, sweet girl. How was your day?” she asked with a sweet smile on her face which quickly dropped when she saw your tear stained cheeks. She ran towards you and brought you into her arms, hugging you tightly. You let yourself fall apart in her arms, sobbing what was still left inside you.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe with me,” she soothed you, rubbing your back so softly. You stayed like this for a little while, you curled up in her lap while she rocked you back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Eventually, your sobs turned into soft whimpers and your tears dried up. She pulled away from you slightly, her hands still on your waist, and looked at you with a sympathetic expression.

“What happened sweet girl?” she asked, her voice as soft as ever.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aggie. I came home from uni only to be bombarded by my parents about my grades. I got a D in one of my classes and they went crazy about it. It’s just the first quarter! I’m trying my best but they said it isn’t enough and threatened to stop paying for my tuition. What am I gonna do?” You spilled your guts out.

She listened to you intently as you vented to her, her expression growing sadder as you continued. She sighed and pulled you back into a tight hug and you leaned into her warmth.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened,” she whispered, wiping your tears away, “You’re working so hard, baby. It’s unfair that they’re treating you like this,” she took a deep breath, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something but haven’t found the right time until now.”

“What is it?” you asked curiously, looking her in the eye. She gently took your hands in hers and started to play with your fingers as she spoke.

“Why don’t you move in with me, hm? You won’t have your parents to nag you about anything and maybe you can…” she grimaced, holding the pack of cigarettes up, “leave these behind. How does that sound?”

“I couldn’t possibly do that, Aggie. I don’t want to be a burden plus my parents would most definitely stop paying for tuition then-“

“You are no burden, sweet girl,” she cut you off, “And so what if your parents stop paying for your tuition? I have plenty of money and I can pay for it. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.” Tears welled up in your eyes again but not from sadness but from happiness as she finished talking. This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.

“Re-really? You would do that for me?” Her heart broke when she saw the tears in your eyes again. She quickly wiped them away and nodded with a smile on her face.

“Of course I would, baby girl. I would do anything for you,” she spoke sincerely, getting closer until your faces were inches apart.

Your heart started pounding in your chest as she got closer to your face. You looked down at her parted lips for a second before finally closing the distance. She returned the kiss immediately, cupping your cheeks, pulling you closer.

She gently bit your bottom lip, pulling away slightly before going back in and swiping her tongue against your lip. She took advantage of the gasp that escaped your mouth to slide her tongue inside, exploring every inch of your mouth. You were so deep in the kiss until you realized what was happening and you pulled away. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had.

“I-I’m sorry, Agatha- I should go-“ you tried to get up but quickly grabbed your arm to stop you.

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to leave,” she brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re…you’re not mad?” She chuckled softly and shook her head. She caressed your cheek, running her thumb across your bottom lip.

“No, silly. I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you,” she said softly, her hand coming down to rest on your thigh, “I kissed you too,” she admitted. You stayed silent in disbelief. You’ve had a crush on her ever since you were in high school but you knew better…until now. Her maternal nature towards you made you feel special and that you were enough, for her at least. After a couple seconds she broke the silence.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go inside. It’s starting to get cold and I don’t want you getting sick,” she quickly ushered you inside her luxurious house which never failed to amaze you.

“Have you eaten anything, baby?” she asked and you shook your head. With the whole situation with your parents you had forgotten to eat anything. She tsked and led you into the kitchen. She sat you down at the kitchen island and started to make you something to eat. She went through her cabinets and pulled out a packet of ramen noodles.

“How does some ramen sound, hm?”

“It sounds great,” you said, still a bit dozed out thinking of what she had said earlier. She started to cook the noodles, humming softly as she stirred them. Once they were done, she poured them into a bowl and added some seasoning. She set the bowl down in front of you and ruffled your hair affectionately.

“Eat up, baby,” she kissed your temple.

“Why are you doing this for me?” you asked suddenly. She was caught off guard by your question and raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, sweet girl?” she sat down next to you, tilting her head to the side curiously.

“You’ve always been so sweet to me, taking care of me, looking out for me, and now you’re asking me to move in and pay for me to continue going to college just so I can get away from my parents,” you teared up again, “Why?” She let out a sigh and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.

“You deserve to be taken care of, baby. You’re a good girl and your parents don’t see that. I can’t sit back and watch you suffer anymore,” she said softly, running her fingers through your hair.

“But-“

“No buts,” she cut you off, “I don’t want to hear any more arguments from you, baby girl. You’re moving in with me, whether you like it or not. Now finish your ramen before they get cold. I’m going to be finishing up some work stuff if you need anything,” she started walking away.

“What about the kiss?” you asked, almost desperate to know. She stopped in her tracks and turned around to face you.

“We can talk about it later, okay?” You nodded your head, a bit disappointed but tried not to show it. She saw the disappointment in your eyes and her heart panged. She knew you wanted to talk about the kiss but she wasn’t sure if now was the right time. She gave you a small smile and walked to her home office upstairs.

You turned back to the ramen she had so nicely made for you and ate them slowly as you let your mind run wild. Did she return the same feelings? Was the kiss just in the heat of the moment? Will she get tired of your neediness and throw you out after you move in? The little voice in the back of your mind nagged at you in the voice of your parents like it always did.

After you finished eating, you placed the empty bowl in the sink and started to wander around the house. You didn’t have much to do and the thought of going home was making you feel uneasy. You didn’t want to go back there. So you went to her office, peeking at her working through the cracked door. She looked so beautiful with her reading glasses on.

“I know you’re there, sweetheart. I can feel your eyes on me. You can come in,” she said with a playful tone, all while still looking down at her papers.

“S-sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you,” you said, finally stepping inside, closing the door behind you. She smiled softly and gestured for you to come closer.

“You’re not disturbing me, baby. Come here,” she patted her lap, signaling you to sit on it. You were taken aback by her request yet you didn’t question it and just sat down on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her. You could feel her chest against your back as she rested her chin on your shoulder.

“You’re awfully quiet. You’re not usually this quiet, sweet girl,” she said, a hint of concern in her voice.

“I just…,” you turned to face her, “I know you said to talk about it later but I need to know that the kiss meant something to you too.” She looked at you, seeing the desperation in your eyes. She brought her hand up to your face and cupped your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin.

“Of course it meant something to me, baby. I wouldn’t have kissed you if it didn’t,” she said gently, tilting your chin up with her fingers. She had always known about your little crush but never pointed it out, not wanting to embarrass you, and it all led to this moment. Your eyes diverted between her eyes and lips before you pulled her into another kiss, this one more desperate, more passionate. She pulled you impossibly closer, her arms tightening around your waist as she took control of the kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth.

You didn’t hesitate to let her explore your mouth with her tongue. She bit down on your lip and soon the metallic taste of blood filled your tastebuds. You moaned against her lips. She swallowed the moan, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she continued to dominate the kiss. She bit down on your lip harder, breaking the skin and causing more blood to flow into her mouth. She lapped it up like it was honey.

“M…mommy-“ you mumbled against her lips and immediately pulled away when you realized what you said. A smirk formed on her lips when the word slipped. It was something she had been waiting for you to say but had never dared to say out loud, until now. She grabbed your hips and guided you so you were now straddling her.

“Say that again, baby,” she whispered huskily into your ear, her breath sending chills down your spine. You stared at her for a moment. You expected her to laugh in your face or even push you away but not this.

“…mommy,” She let out a low hum of approval as you called her that again. Her hands started to roam up and down your thighs, leaving a burning trail wherever she touched you.

“That’s a good girl. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” You nodded desperately. She chuckled and ran her fingers through your hair, tugging your head back gently, exposing your neck to her. She placed a kiss on your pulse point, her lips ghosting over your skin as she spoke.

“You look so pretty like this, all desperate and needy for me,” she nibbled at your earlobe, “Mommy is going to take such good care of you, bunny, and you’re going to let her. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes,” she hummed, satisfied with your answer. She continued to place kisses on your neck, slowly making her way down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of love bites in her wake.

“Good bunny,” she murmured against your skin before biting down on the sensitive spot on your neck. She wanted to mark you as hers and make sure you remember who you belong to. She suddenly manhandled you up and bent you over her desk, shoving anything in her way to the floor. She ripped your shirt off, throwing it on the floor to join her desk decor. She admired the sight of you underneath her, her eyes roaming up and down your body, taking in every inch of you.

“Such a beautiful girl. All mine, isn’t that right?” she purred, her hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you in place.

“All yours,” you mewled back, letting her do as she pleased with you. She smiled at your obedience, slowly taking off your pants along with your panties. She let her hand come down on your ass with a loud smack, making you yelp. The sound echoed through the room as she admired the red handprint that appeared on your skin.

“That’s my good girl,” she cooed, soothingly running her hand over the spot she just spanked. She then moved her hands up your waist until they reached your breast, getting a handful of them, pressing your naked back against her clothes front.

She chuckled at the way you squirmed against her, feeling how needy you were for her touch. She continued to massage your breasts, her thumbs running over your nipples, feeling them harden under her touch.

“You’re so sensitive, bunny,” she whispered in your ear, her breath tickling your skin.

“I want you mommy,” you whined, rubbing your palm against her crotch. She let out a low groan as you rubbed against her, her hips instinctively bucking forward against your hand.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? Can’t even wait until I get undressed,” she nipped at your neck, her fingers tweaking your nipples.

“Please?” You pleaded.

She couldn’t deny you when you said please in such a sweet tone. She quickly unbuttoned her shirt and threw it to the floor, her pants following soon after. She turned you around to face her and sat down in her chair, pulling you onto her lap so that you were straddling her once again, her cock already hard.

“You’re gonna have to work for it,” she ran her fingers through your soaked cunt, “You’re so ready for me, baby,” she moaned.

“Only for you, mommy,” she lifted your hips, aligning her cock with your entrance. She looked up at you for any sign of discomfort and when she didn’t she brought you down on her cock. She let out a groan as you took her in, her head falling back against the chair. Her grip on your hips tightened as she helped you lower yourself onto her.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she panted out, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You wrapped your arms around her neck, clinging to her as you tried to get used to her size. She was so big but you didn’t care. You wanted to be a good girl and take it.

She smiled up at you, her hands roaming up and down your back as you adjusted to her size. She knew you were small and she could be rough with you, but she wanted to be gentle now that it was the first you took her. She knew you could only handle so much.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re taking mommy so well,” she cooed, her hands resting on your hips, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“…you can move now,” you mumbled, hiding your face in the valley of her neck. She chuckled at your shyness and gently pushed you back, her hands resting on your shoulders.

“Look at me, baby,” she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for arguments. She loved it when you got shy and timid, it made it even easier to control you, “I want you to keep your eyes on me, okay sweet girl?” you looked at her, doe eyed and nodded your head.

She smiled at your obedience and started to slowly move her hips, lifting you up and down on her cock. Her eyes were glued to yours, watching every reaction that flashed across your face. She loved the way you looked when you were under her control, so submissive and willing to do whatever she wanted.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny. All mine,” she moaned out, her pace gradually speeding up. Your pussy greedily clenched around her at the praise. It made your heart flutter. Like you were enough. She could feel you clenching around her, only encouraging her to thrust up into you harder. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her, so your chest was flush against hers. She continued to praise you, whispering filthy things into your ear as she picked up the pace.

You were itching closer to your release only for her to pull out and bend you over her desk once against. She loved the whine that left your lips when she pulled out, it was adorable and needy. She roughly pushed you down onto the desk, her hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place. She positioned herself behind you and ran the tip of her cock up and down your soaked folds.

“You want it, don’t you, princess?” she teased, knowing full well how badly you wanted her.

“Please! I’ve been good!” You begged. She couldn’t resist your pleading, the words going straight to her ego. Her grip on your neck tightened as she lined herself up with your entrance once again.

“Such a good girl, begging so nicely for me,” she praised you again as she slowly pushed back into you, relishing in the sweet sounds that fell from your lips.

“Ah! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She bottomed out with a low moan, taking a moment to admire the sight of you bent over her desk, your pussy stuffed full with her cock. Her other hand gripped your hip, her nails digging into your skin, leaving little crescent moon shaped marks. She was going to mark you all over as hers.

“You’re so welcome, baby,” she panted out, her eyes glued to where you two were connected. Her thrusts became more erratic, wanting to make you come undone all while chasing her own release. She was getting close, her grip on your hip tightening as she slammed into you from behind. She leaned over you, her chest pressed against your back as she peppered kisses across your shoulder blades. Her breath was hot against your skin as she spoke.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I’m close. Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Can I?” you asked politely, which left her a bit surprised. She raised an eyebrow at your question, a smirk forming on her lips.

“Such a well mannered girl and she’s all mine,” she said, her voice dripping with mock surprise. She knew you could be a good girl when you wanted to, but this was a new level of submission, “Go on, baby, come for me.”

You came on command, moaning her name loudly, your warm walls spasming around her cock, getting her over the edge. She let out a loud moan of her own as she came, filling you up with her hot cum. Her body slumped over yours, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She stayed on top of you for a moment, letting you both come down from your high. Once her breathing evened out, she slowly pulled out, her eyes fixated on your leaking cunt as her cum dripped down your thighs.

“Good girl,” she murmured, slowly straightening up, gently rubbing your back with her hand to soothe you. A sudden rush of emotion washed over you and you began to sob. You’ve never felt so loved. She froze when she heard you crying, her heart aching at the sound. She gently pulled you up into a sitting position and turned you to face her, worry etched on her face as she saw the tears streaming down your face.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” she asked, panicking slightly but gently cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away your tears. You shook your head and just hugged her tightly, melting into her warmth. She let out a sigh of relief when you shook your head, but her worry didn’t completely dissipate. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her lap and holding you close to her chest. She ran her fingers through your hair and gently shushed you, trying to calm you down.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, baby,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I…I love you, Agatha,” you whispered into her ear timidly. Her heart skipped a beat when you spoke those three words. She was shocked to hear them, she wasn’t expecting you to say it so soon. She pulled back slightly so she could look at you, her eyes scanning your face for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. When she found none, she smiled warmly at you, her hands cupping your face again.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” she replied without hesitation. She never thought she would find love in a girl half her age, but here she was, completely in love with you, “Let’s go get you cleaned up,” she stood up, “Can you stand up?” You tried to stand up and walk but quickly fell into her arms, your legs feeling like Jell-O. She easily caught you, holding you close against her body.

“I got you, bunny. I fucked you that good, huh?” she said with a smirk.

“Mommy…” You whined at her mocking tone. She chuckled at your whiny voice. She scooped you up into her arms bridal style and carried you to the bathroom in her master bedroom, setting you down on the counter once you got there.

“So cute when you get whiny like this,” she teased as she started running a bath.

“Are you gonna get in with me?” you asked, your cheeks turning a rosy color. She smiled at your question, loving how shy you got so quickly. She turned to look at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Do you want me to?” she asked, her voice low and seductive. You nodded timidly. Even after she’d seen you whole, even after all the time you’ve known her, she still managed to make you blush like a schoolgirl. She smiled warmly at your nod, her heart melting at your shy demeanor. She loved how easily she could make you flustered, it made her want to see you like this all the time. Once the bath was ready, she grabbed your chin gently and tilted your head up to look at her.

“You better get used to this, baby. You’re mine to take care of now,” You looked at her with pure adoration in your eyes and without you pulled her into a desperate kiss, putting your arms around her neck. She immediately returned the kiss, her lips moving against yours passionately.

She was taken off guard by your desperate actions, but quickly melted into it, sliding her tongue into your mouth and exploring every inch of it. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you flush against her body. You wanted to stay like this forever. You didn’t want to pull away but you were both running out of air so Agatha made the first move to pull away.

She pulled away from the kiss with a low moan, her breathing heavy as she looked down at you. She rested her forehead against yours, her arms still wrapped tightly around you.

“You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice laced with affection, “Let’s get you in the bath.” She picked you up again, like you weighed nothing, and placed you down on the warm water before getting in as well. She got in behind you and gently pulled you back so your back was against her chest. She wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you close as she let out a content sigh.

“Comfortable?” she asked as she began to run her hands over your body, lightly massaging your skin.

“Mhm…” you hummed, taking her hand in yours, thinking of all the things that happened that led to this moment. She could feel you thinking as you relaxed against her. She planted a kiss on your shoulder, silently urging you to voice your thoughts.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby?”

“No one has ever treated me with so much love like you have. You make me feel special unlike my parents that make me feel dumb. I can be me without having to be ‘mature for my age’ with you. I’m so grateful for you, Agatha,” you kissed the back of her hand. Her heart ached at your words, the vulnerability in your voice made her chest feel tight. She tightened her arms around you, holding you closer to her as if to protect you from all the negativity you’ve faced in the past.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly, nuzzling her face into your neck, “You are special. Your parents don’t know what they’re missing out on. You deserve to be loved and cared for. You deserve everything good in this world and I plan on giving it to you, princess.”

“Please don’t ever leave me,” you almost sobbed. You knew this was dangerous. You always got attached quickly and it always seemed to end badly for you.

She felt her heart shatter at your words. The thought of ever leaving you was unbearable to her. She turned your head gently so you were facing her and cupped your cheek, looking at you with nothing but sincerity in her eyes.

“I’m never going to leave you, baby. You’re stuck with me now. You’re mine, forever and always.”

“You promise…mommy?” Gosh you were so adorable, she should have done this sooner.

“I promise,” she said firmly, her grip on you possessive as she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “I won’t ever let you go. You’re safe with me, baby.” She continued to wash over your body, gently as if you were made of porcelain, leaving kisses on your skin every now and then.

She enjoyed pampering you like this, taking care of you in a way no one else ever has. She took her time washing your body, wanting to make sure every inch of you was clean. As she reached your thighs, she gave them a gentle squeeze, her hands roaming up and down your legs as she planted a few kisses on your neck.

You shuddered when she squeezed your thighs, loving every second of her warm touch. She smirked against your neck, enjoying your reaction to her touch. She wanted to go further but she stopped herself.

“Let’s get you ready for bed. We have a lot of things to do tomorrow.”

“Like what?” you asked, forgetting what she had said earlier. She chuckled at your question, gently nipping at your neck as she pulled away from you.

“Moving all your things in, silly. And I’m taking you shopping,” she teased, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you before getting out of the tub and wrapping one around herself as well.

“Already? Isn’t it a bit soon? I wouldn’t want people to think I’m using you-“ she rolled her eyes as she dried herself off.

“Baby, I don’t care what other people think. They can think whatever they want,” she said, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to look at her, “I only care about you.” She began to dry you off as well, being careful with your sensitive areas.

“…I don’t deserve you,” you whispered under your breath. She stopped drying you off when you spoke, her expression turning serious.

“Yes, you do,” she said firmly, her grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly, “You deserve the world, princess. Don’t you dare talk like that about yourself again because if you talk bad about yourself you’re talking bad about my baby girl and I don’t like that.”

“I promise I won’t,” you smiled at her motherly behavior, “Why are we going shopping though?” She returned your smile, her expression softening again.

“Because I want to show you off. To show everyone who you belong too,” she said with a possessive tone, “And I want to spoil you too. I want to buy you pretty things.”

“You don’t have to do that, Agatha-“ She silenced you by placing a finger over your lips, her gaze stern.

“Hush, I know I don’t have to but I want to. You’re my good girl and good girls get rewards, remember?” You nodded your head in agreement. She smirked, satisfied with your obedience. She ran her thumb over your bottom lip before pulling away and grabbing your hand.

“Good girl. Now come on, let's get you dressed. I want to talk to you about something,” she said, leading you out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.

“About what?” you asked, sitting on the edge of the bed while she went to fetch something for you to wear in her closet. She rummaged through her closet, looking for a specific outfit she had in mind for you as well as for herself. After a few moments, she pulled out a lacy, pink nightgown and turned to look at you.

“I want to discuss boundaries and rules,” she said, holding up the nightgown for you to see.

“Rules?” She nodded as she helped you get dressed, her hands gently pulling the night gown over your body and smoothing it out once it was on. She stepped back to admire you, a pleased look on her face.

“Mhm, I want to set some ground rules for you to follow,” she said, her eyes raking over your body, taking in how good you looked in the night gown.

“Okay, what are they?” She smirked as she crawled into the bed, sitting up against the headboard and dragging you in between her legs.

“First rule, you listen to me. You do as I say, no questions asked. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” she asked as wrapped her arms around your waist.

“I am.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” she hummed, her hands slowly running up and down your thighs as she spoke, “Second rule, you are not allowed to touch yourself without my permission. Understood?” Your face immediately flushed at her statement but you nodded either way. She chuckled at your flushed expression, loving the effect she had on you. She moved her hand to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking up at her.

“Rule number three, I will be picking out your outfits from now on,” she said, gently pinching your thigh. You hummed in thought. You didn’t mind at all, it would actually be helpful not having to stress about what you would wear.

She smirked as you hummed, knowing you liked the idea of her picking out your outfits for you. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck, her hand still resting on your thigh, drawing small circles on your skin with her thumb.

“Rule four, you will be sleeping in my bed from now on,” she whispered in your ear, her tone low and commanding.

“I can get used to that,” you muttered. She chuckled again, amused by your obedience and compliance. She gently bit down on your neck, leaving a small mark on your skin as she continued to draw patterns on your thigh with her fingers.

“Good girl. I knew you would,” she praised, her hand slowly moving higher up your thigh, inching closer to your inner thigh.

“Any more rules?” You asked. She hummed in thought as she continued to leave small marks on your neck, enjoying the way your skin bruised so easily. She gently pushed your thighs apart, her hand resting on your inner thigh now.

“Just one more,” she said before nibbling on your earlobe, “You belong to me now, princess. Your body is mine and only mine.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you pulled her into another kiss. She smiled into the kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth as she grabbed your thighs and pushed you back onto the bed, pinning you down beneath her.

“Mommy I want you,” you begged. She smirked down at you, loving the way you begged for her. She leaned down and nipped at your bottom lip before speaking in a teasing tone.

“I know you do but it’s time for bed.”

“But mommy-“ you whined. She laughed at your whine, clearly amused by your pouty expression.

“No buts, princess. What was rule number one?” She questions firmly, her grip on your thighs tightening ever so slightly.

“…To do as you say, no questions asked.”

“Mhm, exactly. We have an early day tomorrow,” she said, not giving into your adorable pout as she pulled away to tuck you in.

“I love you, Aggie,” you looked at her lovingly. She smiled down at you, her heart melting at your words. She reached down and gently caressed your cheek, her expression softening.

“I love you too, baby. Now get some sleep,” she said before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @mgruiz @daenerys713

[sanakimohara]

[ DIVE ] - L. F.

pairing: felix x fem reader (established relationship)

summary: post concert Felix taking his extra energy out on you.

playlist:

type: drabble/no real plot

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + SMUT + ORAL + IMPLIED FREE USE + SOFT DOM FELIX

a/n: I had time and realized I haven't been writing much for Lix, so I had to fix that.

Felix, who adores it when you play with his hair while he fucks you -especially after he and the other members deliver another chaotically entertaining performance on their world tour.

Felix, who is drenched in water and sweat by the end of the night, finds you in his dressing room, watching you pick up messes and rearranging things even though you aren’t official staff, feeling the energy he hadn’t spent out while performing, going straight to his cock as he observes you for a moment.

Felix walks over to you like a magnet pulled in by gravity, cornering you with a tender smile, and you instantly return to the gentle expression. Nothing you can say distracts him; every question about the concert you have gets a short answer as his hands slide past the hem of your skirt, running along your warm and bare skin hidden underneath.

Felix, who isn't fazed that you neglected to wear panties, is ever so grateful, whispering short praises in your ear as he slides the skirt down your hips and watches it pool at your feet. You let him do what he pleases, more than happy to help him unwind, and despite trying to coerce a conversation out of him, you’re glad to be shut up with a pattern of sloppy kisses and muttered commands he knows you’ll follow in a heartbeat.

Felix hums softly and deeply in his chest when you tug at the silky strands. He feels proud of himself for making you feel good and wants you to pull his hair as often as you wish.

Felix, who ties his hair back when he needs to get a taste of you, is quick to drop to his knees and pry yours apart so his head rests between your thighs and his mouth finds your cunt all the easier.

Felix, who doesn’t care that you’re writhing mess in minutes, already dropping what you’re doing to gaze at him through softened eyes with a grateful smile on your lips.

Felix, who looks you dead in the eyes like a lovesick puppy when his tongue runs up and over your clit, warm and fixated on your every expression, the tender muscle explores your cunt inside and out until you’re shivering closer to a high.

Felix flashes you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen when he pulls away to push your legs up to your chest, soft hands holding them there by a grip on the back of your thighs as he dives straight back into eating you out.

Felix laughs softly at your hushed sighs and breathy moans filling the air, hoping whoever passes by the backstage dressing rooms can’t hear you over the lingering cheers of the crowd he just performed for, and he is glad you’ve grown out of being shy about them hearing you.

Felix, who always seems to need hydration on stage -constantly dousing himself in water when the chance arises- is now openly selfish with lapping up your arousal as it trickles out of you and onto his tongue.

Felix looks more than proud of himself, seeing your flushed and exhausted face disappear behind your hands as you try to regain composure. He plants chaste kisses on your inner thigh with a cheeky grin tugging at his lips.

“How are you not tired…?” you whine, refusing to admit that his obsession with dumping his post-concert energy on you wasn’t thrilling.

Felix clicks his tongue, feigning a thoughtful moment as he guides your legs to relax around his waist, smirking when you swallow a moan feeling his covered hard-on press into your bare cunt, “You know how to fix that for me. Don’t you, baby?…”

You nod slowly without a second thought, melting under his weight, returning the slow kiss he pressed to your lips as you traced your hands along his sweat-damp face to run through his tousled and drenched hair.

“Always…” you mutter against his mouth, smiling when he bites his lip satisfactorily at your answer.

a/n: fuck Donald Trump and double fuck everybody who voted for him. There I said my fucking peace…

other links: don't fucking ask…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

You’re welcome. Bye. Credits to creator. 🖤

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Seven

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, idiots in love lol

A/N: Almost done part 8, if you have anywhere you'd like to see the fic go or a certain scene you want dm me :) always open to ideas i just make this shit up as i go lmaooo

----

Your apartment is a swirl of energy as Wanda and Natasha flit around you, each one fussing over the details of your look as you finish your glass of wine. Natasha is practically vibrating with excitement, rummaging through her makeup bag, while Wanda holds out another pair of earrings for you to try. They’re both doing their best to hype you up for this date with Dean, a guy Natasha knows from work.

“You look amazing,” Wanda says, stepping back to admire the final touches.

Natasha grins, tipping her glass to you with a smirk. “Dean isn’t going to know what hit him.”

You laugh, a bit giddy from the wine and the thrill of doing something for yourself. The nerves are there too, though—you haven’t been on a date in ages, and the whole situation feels slightly surreal. Just as you’re about to put your glass down, the front door opens, and loud laughter and chatter fill the entryway. You freeze, your pulse spiking.

“I thought they were supposed to be down the street at the bar?” you hiss, looking at Natasha with wide eyes.

She frowns, confusion flashing across her face. “They are supposed to be.”

Natasha strides out of the room, muttering under her breath as she goes to investigate. You hear her confront them, her voice sharp with irritation. “Why are you guys here? You’re supposed to be at the bar!”

Bucky’s voice cuts through the hallway, a little louder than usual. “This is my place too, Nat. I pay rent here, so don’t expect me to stay away.”

Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t ruin this for her.”

Before you can catch more of the conversation, Natasha’s phone pings, and her whole expression shifts as she squeals, rushing back into the room. “He’s here!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “Dean just texted—he’s waiting downstairs!”

Your stomach does a flip, and you take a deep breath to calm the nerves. “Is he… is he coming up, or am I going down?”

Natasha studies you for a second, eyebrows raised. “It’s up to you. What do you want?”

You bite your lip, the idea of Dean seeing you in the apartment suddenly feeling way too intimate, especially with Bucky just down the hall. “I’ll go down,” you say, nodding firmly.

Natasha grins, quickly typing a message to Dean. “Alright, you’ve got three minutes to compose yourself, babe.”

With one last look in the mirror, you step out of the room, heart pounding as you walk down the hallway. The boys are in the living room, and as soon as Sam spots you, he lets out a low whistle, his eyes widening.

“Wow,” he says, looking you up and down with an approving grin. “You clean up real nice.”

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Steve and Bucky turn around. Steve’s gaze softens, and he steps forward, his eyes warm and admiring. “You look beautiful,” he says, his voice gentle. “Dean’s the luckiest guy in the world.”

He looks at you with an intensity you’ve never seen from him before, a look that’s almost… longing. You give him a grateful smile, feeling oddly touched. “Thanks, Stevie,” you say softly.

Bucky, however, is still standing a little behind Steve, his jaw slightly slack as he stares at you, seeming momentarily at a loss for words. His gaze travels from your face to the dress, his expression a mix of something you can’t quite name, something unreadable and raw. For a second, the noise and chaos around you fades, and it’s just the two of you, caught in that moment.

Sam, sensing the tension, jumps in with a grin. “Damn, girl, you look hot. Sure you don’t wanna go on a second date with me instead?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Sorry, Sam. Dean would have to blow it pretty badly for you to get a chance.”

Natasha claps her hands, breaking up the moment as she walks over to you. “Text me if you get a chance or if you need an emergency out. And I need all the details afterward.” She gives you a quick, tight hug, whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be amazing. Just have fun.”

You nod, smiling gratefully as you give her hand a squeeze. With one last look at your friends, you make your way to the door, the nerves hitting you all over again.

As you head downstairs, the sound of laughter and chatter fades behind you, but back in the apartment, the energy shifts. Steve watches you go, a glint of something deep and wistful lingering in his gaze. Natasha catches it, her brows knitting together as she studies his face, watching the way he’s so intently focused on you, even after you’ve disappeared down the stairs.

Natasha squints, suspicion curling in her thoughts. Steve’s expression isn’t the typical friendly warmth she’s used to seeing; there’s something almost pained, raw, and it’s as if a puzzle suddenly clicks into place. Her mouth parts slightly as she realizes—Steve isn’t just fond of you; he’s in love with you. She composes herself quickly, straightening as Steve gives her a look, as if sensing her scrutiny. He shrugs, brushing off the intensity of the moment, and cracks open a beer, plopping onto the couch like nothing’s happened.

Meanwhile, Bucky is still standing, staring at the door as if you might reappear any second. His gaze is fixed, a blend of surprise and… something else. Wanda notices, shaking her head with a quiet scoff.

“You know, you had your chance, Bucky,” she says, her tone sharper than usual.

The room falls silent, everyone taken aback by her bluntness. Wanda’s usually gentle, never one to make waves, but there’s a bite to her words now, and her eyes flash with something almost like annoyance as she glances at him.

Sam, trying to break the tension, chuckles and sidles up to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Damn, Wanda, I knew you had some fire in you!” He laughs, grabbing her glass. “Come on, let’s get you a refill.” He leads her toward the kitchen, topping off her wine glass as they disappear into the next room, leaving Bucky, Natasha, and Steve in the thick silence.

Natasha crosses her arms, her gaze locked on Bucky with a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Really, Bucky?” she says, her voice low and pointed.

Bucky blinks, snapping out of his daze. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t stand there looking like that. Just a week ago, you were talking about how you were going to do something about it. You said you were finally going to tell her. But you didn’t. And now you’re acting shocked that she’s moving on? Seriously?”

Bucky’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He fumbles, his hands tightening into fists. “It’s not that simple, Nat…”

“Actually, it is,” Natasha says, her voice steely. “You’ve had years, Bucky. Years to figure it out, and now that she’s found someone who sees her, someone who’s willing to step up and actually do something about it, now you’re all caught up? Do you even know how unfair that is?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, his gaze drifting to the floor. “I… I didn’t think she’d actually… go for someone else.”

Natasha lets out a frustrated sigh, her tone bordering on exasperation. “Well, maybe you should have thought about that. She deserves to be happy, Bucky. She deserves someone who’s not afraid to act, someone who can show her they care instead of just assuming she’ll be there whenever he decides he’s ready.”

Bucky’s face flushes with a mix of frustration and guilt. “It wasn’t that simple. I didn’t want to lose her if things went wrong…”

Natasha’s expression softens, but only slightly. “No, Bucky, you were just scared. You were scared to take a risk and put yourself out there. But she’s spent all these years waiting, and you couldn’t even see what you had. And now that she’s going out with someone who’s willing to treat her like she deserves, you think you can just… act like she still owes you her heart?”

Bucky stares at her, words failing him, the weight of her words hitting him hard. He’s known Natasha to be blunt, but he didn’t expect her to be this brutally honest.

Natasha lets out a sigh, glancing at Steve, who’s been sitting quietly, observing, his eyes downcast. She notices the way he’s twisting his beer bottle in his hands, almost like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something. The tension in his face is palpable, and she realizes with a pang that he’s feeling this conversation deeply, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

She softens her tone slightly, though her words are still firm. “I hate to say it, Bucky, but… you snoozed, and you lost. She deserves more than to wait around forever for someone to decide if they can handle loving her.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he looks away, as if trying to avoid the weight of her words. “I thought I was protecting her. I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpens, her voice almost a whisper. “Protecting her from what? From being loved the way she deserves? Because that’s what you’re doing, Bucky. You’re keeping her from happiness because you’re afraid to make a move. But she’s not going to wait forever. She’s already stopped waiting.”

She glances toward Steve again, catching the way his shoulders slump slightly, the sad, resigned look in his eyes. Natasha’s lips press together as she puts two and two together. She’d been watching him closely all night, and now, looking at him, it’s clear as day. He’s in love with you too. The realization sends a pang through her, and she composes herself, though the sadness lingers in her eyes.

She turns back to Bucky, her voice softer but no less firm. “You can’t have it both ways, Buck. Either you want her, or you don’t. And if you don’t, then let her be happy with someone who actually sees her, someone who isn’t afraid to let her in.”

Her words hang heavily in the air. Steve shifts uncomfortably, lifting his beer to his lips as if to hide the look in his eyes. Bucky lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.

--

As you step out of your apartment building and spot Dean right away. He’s leaning against his car, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as he straightens up when he sees you. He’s tall, broad-shouldered like Bucky, but everything else about him is different. Where Bucky is dark and a bit rough around the edges, Dean is blond, clean-cut, and sharp in a tailored navy-blue button-down and jeans.

“Hey,” he says, his smile widening as he takes you in. “Wow. You look… incredible.”

You can’t help but blush, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Thank you. And you’re not looking so bad yourself.”

He laughs, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

You nod, slipping your arm through his, feeling a surprising ease settle over you. There’s no tension, no weight from the past—just the excitement of a first date and the feeling that tonight might actually be something good.

The two of you end up at a cozy bistro down the street, the kind of place with low lighting and an intimate atmosphere. It’s bustling but not too loud, with the hum of conversation and the soft clink of silverware filling the air.

As you settle into your seats and glance over the menu, Dean looks up with a playful grin. “So, full disclosure—I know next to nothing about wine. But I figured I’d go with the flow since you seem like the classy type.”

You laugh, glancing down at the wine list. “Well, we can just wing it together. I’m more of a ‘whatever tastes good’ kind of person.”

“Perfect,” he says, signalling the waiter over. “A bottle of your favourite wine, then. Surprise us.”

When the waiter leaves, Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his attention completely focused on you. “So, Natasha talks about you a lot. I feel like I already know a little about you… but I’d rather hear it from you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, she does? Should I be worried?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no. She’s your biggest fan, actually. She said you’re the one everyone goes to for advice. Like, you’re the unofficial therapist of the friend group.”

“Oh, gosh,” you say, laughing and covering your face. “She makes me sound way too put together, I’m really just good at listening.”

“Well,” he says, a twinkle in his eye, “I’m going to test that tonight. You’ll have to sit there while I unload all my existential woes.”

“Lay them on me,” you reply, grinning. “I’m ready.”

He leans back, pretending to think. “Okay, first existential crisis: why are Brussels sprouts so divisive? Seriously, no one’s just ‘meh’ about them, people either love them or hate them.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I know, right? I mean, they’re just tiny cabbages. It’s not that deep!”

“Exactly!” he says, pointing at you with an exaggerated look of triumph. “See, you get it…. and now I know I can trust you. This date is officially off to a solid start.”

You laugh, feeling genuinely at ease. When the wine arrives, the two of you clink glasses, settling into a comfortable rhythm of laughter and banter.

“So, tell me,” Dean says, after the waiter clears your plates. “If you could pick anywhere in the world to live, where would you go?”

You take a sip of wine, thinking it over. “Hmm… somewhere with a mix of city life and nature, I think. I want the excitement, but I’d need a place to escape to, you know?”

He nods, his gaze warm as he listens. “I get that. I’m a city guy myself, but every now and then, I need to get out, hit a hiking trail, or just… breathe.”

“Exactly,” you say, smiling. “Somewhere with balance. Not too much of one or the other.”

He grins, raising his glass again. “To balance, then.”

“To balance,” you echo, clinking glasses with him once more. There’s a spark in his eyes, an ease in his laugh, that makes you feel like you’ve known him longer than just tonight.

The conversation flows seamlessly, with no awkward silences, no scrambling to think of what to say next. You talk about favorite movies, disastrous childhood crushes, and the time you both got stuck in terrible jobs after college—he was an assistant to an eccentric artist, while you worked as a receptionist at a law firm where you barely understood the jargon. He tells stories that have you practically in tears with laughter, like the time his mom signed him up for a tap-dancing class because she was convinced it would help him become more “well-rounded.”

“Tap dancing?” you ask, eyes wide with laughter. “Please tell me there’s a video of this.”

“There’s a video,” he admits, grimacing. “But it’ll never see the light of day. That’s a first-date boundary I’m sticking to.”

You shake your head, laughing. “I respect that. But now I feel like I’ll have to wait for date number two for that one.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grin mischievous. “Date number two, huh? So, you’re already planning to see me again?”

You feel a little thrill at his words, but you play it cool, taking another sip of wine. “Maybe. If you play your cards right.”

“Oh, I’m bringing out my best moves, trust me,” he says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I’ve already pulled out the Brussels sprouts bit. That’s a crowd favorite.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “It’s working…I have to admit.”

There’s a warmth in his gaze as he watches you laugh, and for once, you realize you’re completely in the moment. You’re not comparing him to anyone, not glancing at the door or waiting for a text, not thinking about Bucky or any of the unresolved feelings you’ve kept buried. Tonight, it’s just you and Dean, and everything feels light and uncomplicated.

“So,” he says after a pause, his tone shifting just slightly, “what’s something you want people to know about you, that most people don’t?”

You blink, surprised by the question. “Wow, that’s a deep one.”

“Hey, I’ve got layers,” he teases, but his smile is gentle, his expression open and curious.

After a moment’s thought, you answer, “I think… I want people to know that I’m stronger than they might think. I don’t always show it, but I’ve been through things that have taught me a lot about who I am and what I want.”

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. “I can see that. And for the record, I think strength isn’t always about what you show. Sometimes, it’s what you keep inside.”

The sincerity in his voice takes you off guard, and you feel your heart skip. “Thank you, Dean. Really.”

“Of course,” he says, his voice warm. “I feel lucky to be here with you tonight.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need filling. When you’re finally ready to leave, he insists on walking you back, saying he wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. The street is quiet as he walks beside you, his hand close to yours but never crossing the line. You like that about him—his respect, his gentle confidence.

As you reach your building, he stops, looking down at you with a smile that’s both warm and hopeful.

“So, date number two?” he asks, a hint of nervousness in his smile.

You smile, feeling light and happy in a way you haven’t in a long time. “I’d really like that.”

He grins, and before he leaves, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter. “Goodnight, beautiful,” he says softly.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You watch him walk away, your heart racing and a smile on your face. As you head upstairs, you realize something incredible—throughout the entire night, your mind hadn’t wandered once. No stray thoughts, no memories pulling you back. Tonight, it had just been you, fully present, fully open, and for the first time in a long time, you feel ready for something new.

[vigilskeep]

re: davrin lucanis banter WHY are they so bitchy 😭 i got TWO banters where davrin roasted lucanis unprompted in the middle of lucanis’s freshly blighted hometown lmfao. idk what they would beef abt except like. davrin being so committed to heroism and lucanis to cynicism, and their worldviews grating against each other ig. but idk if either of them even buys everything they sell there tbh. did i miss something in-game?? do u have thoughts on any (undoubtedly more compelling) narrative explanations?

they don’t think highly of each other’s factions, but ostensibly they primarily have beef because davrin showed up and was like “hey why do we have a demon possessed assassin on the team? why do any of you think that’s normal?” (understandable) and lucanis was like “oh i’m the liability, when our enemies can control the blight? which is in your blood?” (also kind of understandable, or it would be if it wasn’t so obvious he is just being defensive and going “no, you!”). if there’s something more going on deeper down i’m not far enough into the game to see it, though i’ve heard a little more in their banters. clearly i need to bring them around more so davrin can have a chance to instigate bc my lucanis is always the one starting it up for no reason

honestly as far as i can tell they’re just both incredibly bitchy people and this is like enrichment in their environment

[dreamsagain]

I figured it would be a good time to share an update with you. I completed 5 radiation treatment sessions in 10 days. I had a new Pet Scan today but no results yet. I wish I could say I'm confident of what the outcome will be. You see when I had the scan prior to the radiation, three new growths were discovered. The cancer in my body is very active. Honestly I was never supposed to live this long but here I am.

Each day I struggle. I can't walk anymore or use my legs. I have become quite the wheelchair master though. My dear friend Holly once told me to keep all four wheels on the ground. Sorry Holly. You get a little bored in my situation. I have come to accept some things that I never thought I would have to. I can't feel the sand of the beach on my toes anymore or the cool ocean water. I can't dance anymore not that I was every very good at it. No more hiking on our trips to northern New England. These may seem trivial to all of you. You never think of these things until you can't do them any longer.

The bigger issues exist. I know my survival chances are slim. I will never give up though till my last breath. I know I will never fall in love with that special girl or settle down or even have a family. Why would anyone want a cancer ridden cripple? My days are consumed with doctors, physical therapy and trying to keep my head up.

Through all of this I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the people that try every day to lift my spirits, to encourage me and support me and most of all love me.

So to the following people, I say thank you and I love you forever.

Lauren @callmenonames my best friend in the universe. I have no words to describe the love you have shown me and the love I have for you. You sacrifice for me every day even at the cost of your own health. You are truly amazing.

Ellie @everylittlethingshedoesismagic my sweet London friend and her beautiful partner Sarah. Not a day goes by that I don't get a sweet message or picture. Unconditional and unwavering support and love. I have dreamt so many times about coming to London to just give you a hug and tell you thank you. I hope some day I can do that. I love you my friend

Karen @karenpillagain where do I begin. You are sweet and kind. Very silly and quirky and I think a little crazy too. You make me laugh and smile. When you had your accident I cried for days. Your partner Kate is a very lucky girl as are yo to have her. Two beautiful Aussies that deserve life's very best. I love you both and do hope we can make that Disney trip someday.

CJ @crystaljaydeinside1 Another incredible Aussie. You never hold back your care and encouragement. Always a sweet message, encouraging word or song to lift me up. I'm glad we connected the way we have and always love our chats. You have become very special to me and Lauren as well. I do love you my friend.

Breelynn @breelynnxoxoxoxo Where do I begin? You were a big support to my sister till the end. You remained close to Lauren and have always supported us. One of kind with a heart bigger than your body. Caring, loving and beautiful. Thank you for your continued support and love. I love you girl! You are amazing

Holly @hollys-coffee-cafe I fell in love with you so easy. You are beautiful, caring, and very special to me. I know we had our moments but there are no conditions on my feelings. You are an encouragement to me to never give up and I never will. I will always love you.

Last but not least Sadie @bambibrowneyes when I met you thanks to Holly, you were dealing with your own issues. Your beautiful wife Shelby sick with the same awful disease as me. There was an instant connection with the three of us. Shelby has since passed and your life has gone on. New career, new city and new love. I'm happy for you my friend. Love you

Okay that's it from me. I probably missed several people. I'm sorry for the long worded post. If you remember, say a prayer, send me you good vibes or whatever you believe in. I need them all.

[saddleups]

𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃.

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 3k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . drabble , complete. ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . mid/low honor arthur . spanking . p_rn without a plot !

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . .   arthur is gruff and often irritable. despite his tough exterior , it's become a running joke that he'd do anything for you. so one day you decide to reward him.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . one of my fave things to do is intentionally bump into npc's and hear a low honor arthur morgan get all dramatic about it lmao. pretty self indulgent drabble that's much needed considering, ugh, recent world events, smh. let's just relieve some stress with our fave cowboy :')

"Arthur, the damn horse got out again."

"Arthur! Go fetch meat for the stew, or we’ll be eating air tonight."

"Arthur! For heaven's sake, take a bath!"

"Arthur? Are ya even listenin' to me?"

Arthur. Arthur. Arthur.

The sound of his own name twisted through the air like nails on a chalkboard. The way you said it—a sharp, clipped tone that hovered between scolding and command—set his teeth on edge, feeling less like a partner and more like a child caught in mischief. No matter how much it grated on him, he obeyed, if only to spare himself the prolonged nagging… and to give himself a chance for one of his well-timed snarky comebacks.

"Arthur, did you get what I sent you for?" you asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Nope," he deadpanned, but then, almost as an afterthought, pulled the small inkwell from his satchel and placed it in your palm.

"Thank you kindly," you said, though the hint of exasperation bled through.

He cocked a brow, smirking. "The way you say that, darlin', doesn't sound all that kind."

You rolled your eyes, but a faint, grudging smile betrayed you.

It had become a running joke around camp that, grumpy attitude and all, Arthur would go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. You’d often hear, “Hell, that boy’d wrap a lasso 'round the moon and bring it right to ya' if he could!"

No matter how reluctant he might act, he’d always come through—whether it was fetching supplies from town or bringing you something from across camp, you knew you could count on him. His grumbling had become a ritual, the begrudging look only making it clearer: when it came to you, he’d always show up.

Maybe it was time to pay it forward.

Arthur sat on a rock by the lake, hat tipped low, listening to the steady, calming rhythm of the water slapping against the shore. It was a warmer day, the first few buttons of his work shirt came undone, exposing the curly hair underneath.

The murmur of camp life floated faintly from behind him, but he couldn't care less about what they were fussing over now. The weight of responsibility hung around his shoulders like a yoke, dragging him down. Hungry mouths, Dutch's endless plans, your constant badgering—it was all just so damn relentless.

He tried to focus on his journal, but the words blurred on the page, his eyes drifting to the lake’s glassy surface instead. Out here, alone with the quiet, he could almost forget.

“Arthur!”

He groaned, snapping his head around. “Goddamn it! Woman, can’t you see I’m tryin' to relax?”

Ignoring his grouchy tone, you sauntered over, a teasing smile on your lips. “Well, maybe if you didn't run off, I wouldn’t have to come find you,” you replied, slipping in behind him. With a practiced touch, you set your hands on his shoulders, kneading the knots beneath the dusty fabric.

“Poor Arthur Morgan. Carryin' the weight of the world on these big strong shoulders, huh?”

He tensed, half-tempted to shrug you off, but he couldn’t deny that your touch felt good. Still, he wasn't about to let you off easy.

“Seems like 'yer mighty concerned 'bout my shoulders all of a sudden,” he muttered, trying to sound gruff even as his eyes drifted closed.

“Apologizin’ for all that naggin’, are ya?”

You leaned in close to his ear, a playful tone slipping into your voice. “Well, I know you like the attention, Arthur. If I left you alone too long, who knows what trouble you’d get into.”

He snorted. “Trouble? Woman, I can barely take a piss without you findin' some reason to come yellin' after me.” A faint smile tugged at his lips, even as he tried to keep his expression set in a scowl.

“Somebody’s gotta keep you in line,” you said, your fingers pressing firmly against his tense muscles. “Otherwise, you'd be a mess—and you know it.”

After a beat of silence, Arthur let out a reluctant sigh. “Maybe,” he grumbled, “but don’t go thinkin’ I need ya hoverin' over me all the damn time.”

You press into his back harder, attempting to release the tension stored there. "Goodness, Arthur your back is in knots."

"Wouldn't be so damn knotted if I didn't have to hear my name in that god-awful tone of yours every damn day."

"Oh?" you teased, leaning forward to rest your chin lightly on his shoulder. “Maybe you just need to hear it said differently.”

You shifted your hands down his shoulders and towards his chest. Your own pressing firmly against his back, meanwhile your fingers pressing in a slow, suggestive rhythm, just enough to make him squirm.

“Would that help?”

Arthur’s jaw clenched, fighting the twitch of a smile. “You really think that little trick’s gonna work on me?” he said, turning his head just enough to catch your mischievous grin.

Abandoning your previous position, you decide to swing your leg over Arthur and settle your frame onto his lap. "Maybe," you replied, voice dipping lower, your fingers looping around his suspenders, pulling them off his shoulders in one go.

“Or maybe you just don’t want to admit you like the sound of me sayin’ your name at all.”

A reluctant chuckle escaped him, though he tried to bury it. “Keep talkin’ like that and maybe I’ll get used to it.”

You continue to press his shoulders, his arms. Arthur's initial scowl began to soften, lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his eyes open. You could feel him loosening up, his breathing evening out, and the smallest smile breaking through his mask of irritation.

You leaned forward, letting your fingers trail down his arms. “Guess that wasn’t so bad, huh?” you murmured, voice low and teasing, your lips just grazing the edge of his ear.

His breath hitched imperceptibly. Arthur shot you a sidelong glance, a warning smirk tugging at his mouth. “Watch it. I ain’t exactly a gentleman right now."

“Good thing I don’t need you to be,” you replied, letting your fingers slide down to lace through his, guiding his large hand to rest at your thigh.

Without waiting for another word, you closed the space between you, capturing his lips with a boldness that matched his own rough edges. Arthur’s hands settled firmly around your waist, and his grip tightened, pulling you closer with a possessive intensity.

His mouth was warm and demanding, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment a lot longer than he’d let on.

Your fingers tangled in his collar, pulling him closer to you, and he responded by pressing in even harder, his hand slipping to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

Arthur's lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss as if he were staking his claim. The lake, the distant murmur of camp, everything around you faded until there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped in each other, the simmering heat between you spilling over.

You felt his length twitch against your core, the thought of it makes you moan, "Arthur," it's softer this time. It was that girlishly lewd moan men like Arthur dreamt about.

"I like when you say it like that."

"Do you?"

He kisses you harder, hips buck into your core. You clench his collar.

"Arthur," you whispered in a sultry purr. "You like it when I say your name like this, don't you?"

He growled lowly, a deep sound in his throat that vibrated through your bones. "Damn woman, you know I do. Now stop teasin' and give me more."

You bit your lip, a wicked smile playing on your mouth. Leaning in, you captured his earlobe between your teeth, nibbling gently before whispering, “What if I don’t want to? What if I like having you needing more?”

Arthur’s eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening almost painfully. “Yer askin’ for trouble, darlin’.”

You arched an eyebrow, hiking up your skirt to bundle at your waist. You met his gaze with a challenging glint. “Is that so? And what are you going to do about it, Arthur Morgan?”

Before you could react, his hand slid up to cup your cheek, forcing you to look into his intense eyes. “This,” he rasped, and with a swift motion, his other hand landed on your ass, giving you a sharp spank that made you gasp into his mouth.

The sting spread quickly, mingling with the heat pooling between your thighs. You whimpered, biting back a moan, but Arthur wasn’t done. He repeated the action, firmer this time, his fingers digging into your flesh as he punished you for your teasing.

“Arthur…” you breathed, your voice shaky with arousal. “More… please…”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I already do so much for you, might as well have you start beggin'" his voice is rough, commanding.

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desire. But the way his hand lingered on your ass, the way his thumb brushed over the spot he’d just spanked, sent jolts of pleasure through you.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, Arthur… again…”

His intense gaze meets yours, full of desire. He gently lifts your chin and lightly traces the outline of your lower lip with the rough pad of his thumb, savoring the moment. Arthur murmurs, "my beautiful girl, you say my name so sweetly, I just might eat you right up." You’re caught in his trap, surrendering your prideful nature to please him.

With a swift, deliberate movement, he brought his hand down again, a firm smack that echoed in the quiet of the lake. The burn ignited a fire deep within you, and your body instinctively pressed against him, craving more of that delicious friction.

“Is this what you wanted?” he breathed against your lips, his voice low and teasing as he reveled in your reaction. “You ain’t too proud now, are ya?”

The question swirled around you like smoke; the answer lay heavy on your tongue. “No,” you murmured, barely able to muster the words as he continued to trail his fingers along the edges of your bloomers before pushing them up your thighs, the fabric snatching between your wet folds.

Arthur’s gaze flickered with something instinctual, a hunger that painted his features with shadows. “Good,” he murmured. “Now let’s see how far I can push ya.”

With that, he thrust his hips upward, pressing against the solid heat of you. A cry escaped your lips—a mix of pleasure and surprised urgency—as you felt him coaxing every quiver from your body. His hands were everywhere—exploring, claiming—and you responded eagerly to each touch.

“Goddamn,” Arthur muttered, his voice thick with desire as he settled into a rhythm that was both punishing and pleasurable. Each caress ignited flames that licked at your skin, demanding attention and coaxing moans deep from your throat. “Yer a temptress, you know that?”

“Only because you make it so easy,” you replied breathlessly, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, seeking more grip as he pushed you closer to the edge of sanity.

With every thrust, every firm touch, Arthur was unraveling something inside you, a tangled knot of need and yearning that had long gone neglected. Each whisper of his name became a prayer, a plea for him to sustain this blissful torment. The sound of his name on your lips sparked a fire inside of him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was no longer the troubled man caught up in mischievous acts, but a devoted lover who had complete control over you.

“Can ya’ handle it?” he teased, slipping one hand back to squeeze your thigh possessively while the other found its way under your chin, tilting your gaze upwards. “I ain’t holdin’ back anymore.”

Without waiting for an answer—knowing all too well that any attempt at defiance would only further stoke his desire—he surged forward with reckless abandon. His lips crushed against yours, raw and insistent as that spark ignited into an inferno between you.

You could barely think as he plundered your mouth and coaxed every ounce of passion from you. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, and for a moment, time seemed suspended in the heated silence between heartbeats.

Arthur's hand shot down, fingers digging into the delicate fabric of your bloomers. With a savage tug, he ripped the seams, causing you to gasp and shriek his name in surprise. The sound was abrupt and high-pitched, a sharp contrast to the low, rumbling growl that escaped his throat as he moved quickly to cover your mouth with his palm.

"Shhh," he whispered fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "The camp's only a few miles off, darlin'. You want them to hear?"

You shook your head frantically, feeling the heat of his hand against your lips, the roughness of his skin contrasting sharply with the softness of your own. His gaze never wavered, and you could see the fire burning in those blue depths, a testament to the control he was exerting over both himself and the situation.

Assiting his undress, you reached for the buckle of his pants, your movements swift and determined. He watched, breath hitching in his throat, as you unfastened the leather strap and opened the fabric, freeing his large, hard cock from its confines. It jutted out proudly, thick and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

Your mouth watered at the sight, the desire pooling low in your belly. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around his shaft, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

Arthur's breath hitched, his hips bucking instinctively against your hand. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice ragged. "You keep doin' that, and this is gonna be over before it even starts."

He shifted his weight, positioning himself between your legs, which you had spread wide in anticipation. He didn't waste any time, guiding the head of his cock to your slick folds. The sensation was electric, hot and wet, and you couldn't help but moan against his hand, biting his calloused palm while your body arched up to meet his.

"That's it, darlin'," he murmured, his thumb brushing across your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. "All that work I do for ya, this is how a bastard like me likes to be reward."

His words were like fuel on the flames of your desire, and you nodded frantically, desperate for more. He removed his hand from your mouth, he holds his cock, sliding the length of him along your drenched slit. The friction was maddening, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and frustration that left you panting, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Arthur," you whimpered, the sound torn from your throat. "Please…"

"Sing my name," he commanded, his voice rough and urgent. "Sing it loud and clear, and watch what it does to me."

You obeyed, letting out a soft, melodic cry as he pressed deeper, teasing the entrance to your core. Each thrust of his hips brought him closer, the head of his cock dipping between your folds, mixing his wetness with yours. The sensation was intoxicating, a dizzying blend of heat and pressure that made your head spin.

"Arthur," you chanted, your voice growing stronger with each repetition.

"Arthur, that feels so good."

"Arthur, please..."

"Arthur, harder."

His thrusts became more forceful, his grip on your thighs tightening as he drove into you with relentless determination. The sound of your voice seemed to fuel his fire, his breathing growing harsh and uneven as he pummeled into you, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Yes, that's it," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Keep sayin' it, darlin'. Keep sayin' my name."

You did, your voice rising to a breathless plea as he plunged deeper, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you. The world narrowed down to just the two of you, the sounds of the lake and the distant camp fading away until all that mattered was the feel of his body against yours, the raw, primal connection that bound you together.

"Arthur, please," you cried, your body trembling with the effort of holding back your orgasm. "I can't take it anymore…"

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging deep as his hips snapped forward, burying himself inside you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over you, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Almost there," he whispered against your lips, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna come with you, darlin'. Gonna make sure you feel everythin'."

You tightened your grip on his shoulders, your body straining towards the edge of ecstasy. The rhythm of his thrusts was driving you closer and closer, each powerful stroke pushing you further into the abyss of pleasure.

"Arthur, I'm so close," you gasped, your voice breaking with the force of your desire. "Don't stop… please…"

"Never," he promised, his thrusts becoming almost frantic now, his body straining with the effort of holding back his own release. "Gonna make it perfect for you, darlin'. Gonna make sure you remember this."

With one final thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You shout his name, the sound echoing across the lake as waves of pleasure rippled through you, leaving you trembling and weak. So much for being quiet.

Arthur followed you over the edge, his own climax crashing over him with a roar. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he emptied himself into you, filling you with his warmth.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the steady thump of your hearts beating in unison. Then, slowly, Arthur pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a look of raw, unadulterated satisfaction.

"Good girl."

Your eyes are shut, but you can feel his gaze, searing and unrelenting, tracing over you. His cock is still warm inside you, the sensation feels…homely. Slowly, your lashes flutter open, confirming what you already knew—his soft blue eyes are fixed on you, brimming with pride and satisfaction. You give him a playful slap on the chest, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Oh, shut up.”

[namfinessed]

and...cut! - p.jm.

genre: fluff, very mild angst (13.6k)

summary: the last time you saw jimin, you were pathetically deep in a one-sided love while he wasn't even at the shallow edge, that was when you were on the stage, dancing and acting together for hundreds to see. now, you are grown, you like to think you're cool but when jimin comes back to your life, you are just as pathetically deep, once again, in a one-sided love.

masterlist masterpost

you were breathless when the lights cut out, the crowd immediately broke into loud applause and your teammates gathered around you to congratulate you but as good as all of it felt, your eyes searched for him, desperately, more desperately than you would ever admit to anyone else.

and when you finally caught him, he was leaving the stage, he didn’t turn back like you hoped he would, he didn’t congratulate you like you hoped he would and you swallowed your tears.

but it was okay.

it was going to be okay.

you would see him in class in a few days and everything would fall into place.

for now, you grab the friends around you and squeeze them, hoping everyone mistakes your tears for happy ones.

-

you like to think that you’re cool.

you didn’t cry when you broke up with your first boyfriend, you didn’t crawl back to him and never begged anyone for a second chance. you set a ten-minute timer to cry for your second boyfriend and when he called you right after breaking up with you to ask how you were feeling, you told him you were reading a book and cut the call.

so, yes, you are cool.

maybe a little too cool because now, you’ve been single for two years and your friends take more offense to that fact than you do.

“we are just worried babe, you don’t seem to like anyone,” mia whispered with her hands in her boyfriend’s hands, as if it was some big secret.

“you don’t have to be,” you gulp down your drink, ignoring all the looks your friends and their boyfriends give you.

they didn’t have to be, you were perfectly fine the way you were.

you were totally okay with sitting at the end of the table with an empty seat next to you, you were okay with listening to your friends be all romantic with their boyfriends, you were okay with everyone.

sure, sometimes you wish you had someone to call at night and talk nonsense with, and yes, it would be nice to have someone you can call yours and someone who would sit next to you as if any other place was unacceptable.

but those were all things you could adjust with, all things you have grown to get used to.

“but seriously, you don’t like a single person we set you up with, i know you have commitment issues but i don’t think you’re even trying,” megan, who you could always count on to give you a reality check, spoke up with you guessed it, her boyfriend’s arms around her.

next to her, faye pursed her lips and turned away from the conversation to say something to her boyfriend, you were at least grateful that she didn’t add to the advice.

“you were single till two months ago, don’t act like you’re some love guru,” you bite back and the whole table falls silent and you hate it.

you hate that you have to sit here and listen to them advising you as they’ve figured it all out.

you hate that you look bitter as fuck right now.

you hate that, just because you don’t have a partner, everyone thinks you’re miserable and lonely.

you hate that you probably are miserable and lonely.

“okay, let’s look at the menu, what does everyone want?” mia chimes in, the mom of the group, the problem fixer where glaringly you are the problem at this table, and everyone is gracious enough to follow suit, and check the menus.

except you.

“i think i’m going to leave actually, i feel pretty tired,” you pick up your bag and immediately everyone starts protesting, “you know i didn’t mean it in that way,” megan grabs your hand with softer eyes and you nod, “i didn’t either, i’ll meet you guys another time.”

and just like that, you’re not mad at her anymore.

“please stay, it’s been so long since we’ve met like this,” faye whispers next and you want to scream that it could’ve been just you and the girls, that you hated their boyfriends coming as extended versions of themselves but she did stay quiet, she didn’t encourage your friends shitting on you so you sit back down.

“sorry, i’m late,” your ears pick up on a new voice and you instinctively look up.

you almost kill yourself on the spot.

“hey guys, this is jimin, my friend, i hope it’s okay if he joins us,” noah, megan’s boyfriend gets up and hugs his friend who very gladly returns the hug and nods at everyone at the table as they introduce themselves.

but you already, unfortunately, know jimin.

just not from here, or from any recent period in your life but from a buried piece of school history.

and when he gets to you, you mumble your name and immediately look back at the menu.

what was he doing here?

did he recognize you?

you hope the fuck not because there wouldn’t be a bigger embarrassment than him remembering that he rejected you even before you could ever ask him out.

but when he sits next to you, you stiffen up, mutter out some dish’s name, and pretend to be very interested in the shape of your plate.

why did he smell so good?

“oh yeah, i think she went to the same school,” you hear faye’s voice and immediately, your hands clench on your lap.

“really?” and his voice isn’t familiar or unfamiliar, you know it’s been years, and voices, sounds, and faces change but jimin’s voice always had a certain warmth that no one else seemed to have.

and he still had it.

he carried that warmth everywhere.

especially in his eyes, which were looking right at you when you lifted your head up.

“i’m sorry?” you clear your throat and faye answers, “he’s from your school,” and you make a ‘is that so?’ face and quietly nod along.

“which year did you graduate in?” jimin speaks from your left, you swear he’s recognized you already when he leans into your figure, and god, if that didn’t make you want to shoot yourself.

“2015,” you say and then grab your wine glass, keeping it close to your mouth so that you don’t have to speak.

“oh same!”

you fucking know!

he is delighted of course and the smile on his face still makes your face red.

and that knowledge only twists your guts further.

“that’s great,” you dare to glance briefly to nod at him and then turn back to everyone else.

“okay.” he purses his lips and looks away.

fuck.

you were being rude.

it didn’t seem like anyone really minded cause they continued with their conversations but you and jimin were now deathly silent.

you had to fix this.

you can’t have him hate you in the present too.

“i know you,” is apparently the best you can do and you want to smack yourself when he raises his eyebrows at you because, from a supposed stranger, that was creepy and mildly horrifying to hear.

“oh?”

“yeah, you were in the cinderella play in school, the prince,” and it was out.

now you have to hold your breath and see if he laughs in your face.

“i was,” and then he cranes his neck to look at you.

really look at you.

you wait.

you know he’s going to hate you when he figures it out, you know that you’re going to kill yourself at this table.

but he keeps looking, eyebrows narrowing and dropping, eyes scanning your every feature, and you know he’s putting his earlier pieces together, that it’s finally clicking for him.

his smile disappears.

his eyes lose all warmth.

you can tell the second that it clicks for him.

“you were cinderella.”

you can’t hide, you can’t look away, you can’t run, all you can do is meet his cold and sharp gaze.

and nod.

he looks away, puts his head down, and lets out the heaviest sigh.

you try not to reach for the knife on the table.

-

the rest of the dinner was…awkward.

so painfully awkward.

once in a while, the conversation would turn to you both and you would force yourself to say a few words before going mute whereas jimin enjoyed the conversations only to fall mute whenever you spoke.

it was embarrassing, the hot kind of embarrassment that paralyzed your entire body, every movement you made felt unnatural and forced, every time your hand moved, jimin would jerk away and towards the end, you just folded your hands on your lap and refused to be mobile.

if anyone noticed anything, they didn’t say a word.

“we should still get a few more drinks,” megan insists outside the restaurant and you twist your entire face at her, “what?” she shrugs her shoulders and you look away, panic rising in your throat.

two hours beside jimin was torture enough.

any more and you would probably combust.

“actually, i agree,” jimin steps away from his conversation with noah and for a split second, you catch him looking at you but you turn away, though the split second still leaves your knees shaking.

“i would love to host you guys at my place if everyone is comfortable,” he offers graciously, a smile reaching his eyes, warmth so bright and inviting on his face but you know that the invitation didn’t extend to you.

and the same way you fell head over heels for him, you see everyone around you falling for him, their eyes soften, they all nod at him and start cheering at the long night ahead of them and you, well, you just want to go home, knock a few teeth out and escape from the country with a fake passport.

but everyone turns to you, your silence is a bit too loud in their chaos and you stammer as all of their faces pick up in anticipation.

“i’m gonna turn in for the night, you guys go ahead, have fun!” you raise your fists in cheer, cringe internally at yourself, swallow that shame, and start waving goodbye and turning around to leave.

and you were truly so close.

so, so close.

your cab was booked, the night was done and you exhaled in relief.

until you hear steps coming towards you, “come, it will be fun,” jimin’s voice was still new, a sound that almost knocked you over and you shifted on your feet, “you don’t want me there.”

“did i tell you that?”

“you don’t need to, jimin,” you hate how breathless you sound when you say his name.

jimin tilts his head at you, eyebrows furrowing again and you want to duck and crawl away from his sight, “i would lov-“

and your cab pulls up.

you clear your throat, “thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, goodnight,” and you step away towards your cab, not waiting for his response.

as your cab pulls away, you avert your eyes away from the pavement where he stands, eyebrows furrowed still, and eyes following the tires of the cab.

you take a deep breath in.

you would never see your first crush again.

and that was probably for the best.

-

sixth grade was life-changing for you.

it was the first time you realized you could feel so much for one person, even if you never intended it to happen that way.

you didn’t even know someone called jimin existed in school until he walked into your practice room, with a head full of thick, soft hair, with this smile that had you frowning, with this walk so confident which was uncommon in guys your age.

everyone was busy being cool, everyone was busy being something they were not but jimin was always just him.

when your drama teacher announced him as the prince in your drama, you nodded and looked away, passing him the script later and walking away.

liking jimin was never part of the plan, liking jimin wasn’t something you ever saw as a possibility, you always thought his personality was too much, too loud, and that he was a little too naïve and a little too bubbly.

but soon, he became your prince, as if every terrible cliché in the world had to come true, he became everything you would ever want in someone.

-

days passed, you watched the photos on your friend’s instagram from the night that you never ended up staying for, and you felt a jolt of joy every time jimin was in their pictures.

he still looked fucking gorgeous, he still smiled with his entire face, and he was still tall and moved with a confidence that guys, even at your age now, usually lacked.

it was a shame that he hated you.

you sighed, put your phone down, and waited for your nephew to burst out of his preschool class. as an aunt, you were constantly on babysitter duties, those duties included picking and dropping him places, taking him out to the park, attending parent-teacher meetings if your sister was too busy like she was today.

it was exhausting at times but your nephew was your baby too.

speaking of your baby, sunoo runs out the door full-speed, eyes darting everywhere before they land on you, you’ll always remember his smile as he heads straight towards you, your heart always picks up and immediately your arms are open to him.

“hey baby,” you mumble into his hair and he giggles, holding onto you tightly and you stand up, with him still koala wrapped around you.

when you look down again, a little girl is staring up at both of you with large eyes and you are immediately concerned.

where are her parents?

why is she alone?

“bubba, do you know your friend here?” you ask sunoo, who, to your relief, nods aggressively and signals to be put down.

and as soon as his feet are on the ground, he hands you his bag to hold her hand and your eyebrows jump up your forehead. sunoo was a very shy kid, he didn’t talk much to kids in the class, and his world was only your family.

so, when they both smile at each other with half their teeth still growing, your heart warms and you bend down to their height, “hello sunoo’s friend, can i know your name?” you hold out your hand and the girl shyly reaches out to take it, “arin,” she whispers before putting her hand back in sunoo’s and you giggle at the sight.

they were adorable.

“is it your first day here, arin?” you don’t remember seeing her and she nods, “this is my new school.”

“ah okay, sunoo, do you want to head inside for the meeting? arin can come in as well, yeah?” you look at them and hold out your hands to each of them which they happily take and you almost collapse when you turn around.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

jimin stood, a few feet away from you, with a pink backpack held loosely in his hands and your face immediately dropped.

this can’t be real.

this cannot be your tuesday morning.

this cannot be your life at all.

“what are you doing here?”

“what are you doing here?” you stare at him pointedly with your arms across your chest and he rolls his eyes, “that’s my niece next to you, she started here today,” and at that, you bend a little to see arin’s face and surely, the resemblance was there.

full cheeks.

and warm eyes.

god loved to punish you.

“oh.” and arin smiles at you, you smile back a little hesitantly and turn to see jimin who’s eyebrows have furrowed deeper than ever.

“yeah,” he looks exasperated at your presence and you try not to get hurt over it, “this is my nephew, by the way,” you point to sunoo, not knowing what else to do or say, and he waves at jimin with a toothy smile and like magic, jimin’s entire face melts into the most beautiful smile.

oh, fuck him.

he starts walking over and you clutch sunoo’s bag tightly, watching as his feet fall one after the other, watching as he completely avoids looking at you when he bends down to ruffle sunoo’s hair and press a kiss to arin’s head.

you hate when men are nice to kids, it makes it so much harder to despise them.

“oh, sunoo’s aunt! i didn’t know you came with your boyfriend,” you freeze at the sound of sunoo’s teacher coming from the hallway and jimin freezes too as she starts quickly walking over to you.

marjorie was an older woman who loved sunoo and you, she was the only teacher you trusted completely and she was also a bit chatty.

this was a live nightmare.

“he’s so handsome, good for you,” she slaps her hand on your arm while gushing at jimin and you, once again, wish to change your identity and immigrate to some unknown island.

“we’re not-“

“that’s not-“

and you both pause to glare at each other with pure venom in your eyes.

he may have been your first crush but he was insufferable and you didn’t need someone else to think that you were together with him and his horrid personality.

jimin probably thought you were enjoying this, people mistaking you to be a couple, just like in school, but he was so wrong, he wasn’t nearly as cute as he was in school.

marjorie clears her throat and stares at you with anticipation, you hate to break her bubble but, “i don’t know who he is marjorie, i think he’s related to your new student here,” you point to arin and she starts looking between the both of you in confusion and jimin extends his hand to her, “i’m arin’s uncle, i’m here for her parent-teacher meeting.”

she nods with a smile, taking his hand graciously, “oh that’s lovely, arin’s mom did say her uncle was coming today, come in, come in, you too, sunoo’s aunt,” and starts walking ahead of the both of you into the classrooms.

you and jimin follow her in, you watch as he takes in the school and the classrooms and smiles at the artwork made by the children all over the walls, you look away with an irritated scowl.

why did he pretend to be some children-loving, kind jesus when he was absolutely vile to you?

“by the way, you two look so good together, it’s a shame you’re not a couple,” marjorie smiles at the two of you and you both nod stiffly at her which seems to delight her as she walks into a room.

you and jimin glare at each other one last time before following her in.

-

sunoo is still holding arin’s hand as you and jimin awkwardly follow the two of them outside the school, the parent-teacher meeting was done, thankfully, only two other teachers assumed you were a couple but was that really a win?

“okay sunoo, why don’t you say bye to your friend and we can go home?” you step forward from the slow, uncomfortable pace set by you and jimin, sunoo pouts and tightens his hand around arin’s which makes you frown, and look at jimin who was also observing the scene in front of them.

“but arin,” he starts tearing up, his face scrunching up and your panic rises, “it’s okay baby, you’ll see her in class tomorrow and every day after,” you try to calm him down, “it’s saturday tomorrow,” he whimpers and you wince, “well, it’s only two days bub, i’m sure arin wants to go home too,” and arin starts pouting too, “no.”

wow, she looked even more like jimin when she pouted.

you look at jimin again helplessly and he also seems to be panicking, at least you weren’t alone.

“sunoo, arin,” he bent down, “you two are in the same class, you will see each other again soon, for now, everyone should go home after class,” jimin’s tone was strict but still soft enough not to trigger any tears but just when you think he’s a better guardian than you, arin huffs and throws her bag on the floor, “no!”

you almost join the bag to laugh on the floor at the shock in jimin’s face.

“she never does this,” jimin says with his mouth still wide open as he gets up and you raise your eyebrows, “i think she gets it from you, the drama of it all, it’s cute, don’t worry,” and he glares at you.

“kids, for today, we have to go home, another day, i’m sure we can do something,” you try to appease them and jimin scoffs next to you, making you narrow your eyes.

“wouldn’t you love that?” your mouth falls open as his eyes roll back in irritation.

the fucking gall this man has.

“shut the fu-“

your colorful words are interrupted by sunoo and arin, who are so in sync already, that they begin their sniffing and subsequent loud cries together.

you immediately shut up to meet jimin’s eyes in horror as both of you see the kids melt into a puddle of tears before you.

“okay, okay! what do you want?” jimin is the first to give in and you want to smack him on the head, you should never give in to kids, that was the rule, you should always wait for their meltdown to finish and then bribe them with something less than what they want.

“seriously?” you give him a dirty look.

“i hate to see her cry,” he whispers to you and if it were anyone else, you would gush, to be honest, you were gushing, but you were also hiding it really well.

“playdate!” it’s like they never cried at all, children were truly magical.

you stare at jimin, waiting for him to respond because if you guys agreed to the playdate, you were also agreeing to spend the next few hours together.

and you didn’t want to be the one to agree to that, it was bad enough that he thought you were getting a kick out of meeting him like this.

he finally lifts his head to look at you, you shrug at him with your heart beating thunderously against your chest, you almost place your hand on it to calm it down but it only gets louder when jimin smiles at you, “sure, that would be fun.”

-

“yay!” sunoo and arin burst into jimin’s house, throwing their shoes and bags at the doorstep to wander off into the house and you are left with jimin, who just like you, would rather be anywhere else.

“thanks for hosting, we’ll do it next time,” you mumble while shrugging your coat off and he smirks, “if you want to see me again, you can just say that.”

you throw your coat on his face and stomp into the house, letting go of any politeness or manners that you would usually have and his giggles float into the air around you, making you scowl.

if he wanted to behave like a pig, he would be treated like one.

“i meant it though, sunoo doesn’t talk to anyone so it was nice to see him bond with arin, but i won’t be the one hosting it, it would be my sister, so no one’s dying to see you, settle down,” you sit down on the sofa, keeping your back straight and legs neatly crossed over the other, and scanned the house that you’ve only seen on instagram till now.

it was a nice house, cosy and bright and definitely expensive.

“arin doesn’t usually talk to anyone either so works for both of us.”

“but what if i wanted to see you?” he joins you on the couch and you roll your eyes, “can you stop with that nonsense?”

“it’s not nonsense, just a question,” jimin shrugs, “tea or coffee?” and you’re appalled at his skills of diverting a conversation, “green tea, if you have it, thanks,” and he laughs, walking into the kitchen, “you know, you don’t have to be so formal with me, we know each other,” and you squirm in your seat.

“i know you’d prefer it if we didn’t,” and jimin pops his head out of the kitchen, “what makes you think that?”

“seriously?”

was he dumb or were you overthinking this?

you get up and walk over to the kitchen where jimin stands, in the simple t-shirt and jeans under his coat, and he looks unjustly attractive in that bland outfit.

“did you forget school or something?” you ask again and he shakes his head, handing you a mug of steaming green tea, “i haven’t forgotten anything, i’m very sharp in case you didn’t notice already,” and you have to let out a groan at his tone.

“i know you hate me, jimin, you don’t have to sugarcoat anything just because we’re older now,” you take a sip, appreciating the light sweetness in the green tea, “did you add honey?”

“nope, cinnamon and i don’t hate you, where the fuck did you get that?” he looks at you as if you’re insane, as if you’ve imagined the times he ignored you in school, as if you’ve imagined him smiling at everyone but you during drama practice, as if you’ve imagined him leaving the stage without even looking at you.

was this what people called ‘gaslighting’?

“um you were an asshole to me and an absolute angel to everyone else,” you try to sound cool and casual about the whole thing but you were dying a little inside about having to have this conversation.

“when?”

“always.”

“no, but when exactly?”

“are you really going to make me say it?” you raise your eyebrows at him, there was absolutely no way that he didn’t know that he was your first crush and that he hated being liked by you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” and you force yourself to smile because if you didn’t, you might just throw the mug in your hands, onto his face.

“you look weird,” he frowns at you and you purse your lips, trying to keep your calm, “i really have no idea why you think i hate you, then or now.”

and you were done.

“during play practice! you smiled at everyone, talked to everyone, played along with everyone, talked to them even after the play finished but never to me! are you happy now that i’ve said it?” you push the mug away from you on the counter and fold your arms across your chest, looking away to some corner in the kitchen.

if there was a feeling more dreadful than shame, you were feeling it right now.

how embarrassing that you still remember every single detail about him, how your adolescent mind never really let him go, how your crush on him was so clear, so true that it never left you.

“y/n,” he calls out and your heart is in your throat.

his voice, even as a kid, was so soft, he always spoke so well, he always spoke as if the opposite person was the most interesting person in the world but somehow, that tone never came when he talked to you.

“can you look at me?”

“no.”

“no?” he laughs out, palms coming up to cover his smiling face and for a moment, you’re starstruck again, you can only stare at his smile that held the world’s love and warmth, from your periphery though.

“okay, don’t look at me but i never hated you-“ and just as you’re leaning into listen to jimin, loud stomps break the moment and you’re both turning to see who’s coming.

it’s sunoo.

and he’s crying.

“baby, what happened?” you get up from your seat to sit on your knees in front of sunoo, “home!” is all he says and you frown, “that’s no way to talk in a home that has invited us, sunoo,” you weren’t as strict as his mom but kids needed to be disciplined from time to time.

“it’s okay,” jimin sits beside you, “what happened, big guy?” he coos at sunoo who instantly falls into jimin’s arms and you’re left baffled, this wasn’t like sunoo at all, he never touched anyone until he liked them.

this was dangerous.

“arin’s not giving me her toys, i want to play too,” sunoo says between hiccups and whines and you straighten beside jimin, “those are arin’s toys sunoo, you should ask someone before you use their stuff, you know this,” and he falls silent.

“but arin should also share, right? she should know that too,” jimin rubs his palms on sunoo’s back who nods furiously, “i asked!”

“okay, let’s call arin and we can sort this out?” jimin suggests but sunoo shakes his head, “home,” he says again but with exhaustion instead of anger.

oh, the trials and tribulations of a 5-year-old.

and you know that once he’s tired, he won’t listen to a word, “i think we’ll head home, he’s tired so,” you scoop sunoo up in your arms and he immediately curls into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” jimin sighs and you let out a laugh, “they’re 5-year-olds’s jimin, it’s no one’s fault, and we’ll arrange something for them at mine or my sister’s, okay?” you don’t know why you’re trying to console him but it came automatically.

at the door, jimin casually wraps your coat around you, being careful to not disturb sunoo who was already dozing off, and you walk to your car with your hands and heart full.

“let’s talk sometime, yeah?” jimin says from next to you and you narrow your eyes, “why?”

“god,” he throws his head back with a delighted look on his face, “i just want to talk, jeez,” and you nod reluctantly.

“here,” he opens the door for you to put sunoo in carefully, you could’ve done it yourself but you didn’t mind the help.

“thanks…for today, it was nice of you,” you look at jimin and he nods with a teasing smile, “i can be very nice,” and you roll your eyes, closing the door and effectively creating a barrier between you two.

and you can finally breathe.

while you pull away, you feel your heart thud and thud and thud again.

seeing him with sunoo and spending so much time alone with him did a number on you, you’ll have to write down why you hate him to make sure that no lingering feelings surface but as you leave, he smiles at you through your side view mirror and you’re not sure you ever stood a chance.

-

it only took you a few seconds to understand what you felt, that it was against everything you had believed until then.

it was the first time you were so close to a guy, his hands were a little above your waist, your hands were on his shoulders, and his face was (so) close to yours.

you were practicing for the ballroom scene and when you looked at his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, you felt your stomach drop with the realization that you liked him, this guy that seemed so ordinary some minutes ago, became something magical, something beyond you and your heart.

“come closer, you two,” your drama teacher shouted over the music and you mindlessly shuffled forward and jimin moved with you, hands tightening on you by instinct and your breath hitched.

you danced weakly, still reeling with the consciousness of liking him and he looked like he did any other day.

later that day, everyone left the practice room except you and jimin, you waited for him to look at you at least once, say anything, you would’ve hung onto any word but he scurried out of the room just as you opened your mouth to tell him what you felt.

“jimin, can we talk? i think i lik-” and he was out of the door.

as if he could sense what was coming next and wanted to avoid it.

and since then, you never brought back the courage to tell him anything.

you had to make peace with that, your buried feelings in your heart had to stay buried.

and you coped with that until the day of the actual play, until he looked like he wanted to say something too, right when the ballroom scene started.

but then, he didn’t turn back on the stage, and you were left warm from his touch, cold from his absence, hurt from his steps away from you, and hopeful from how he looked at you in the eye while you danced.

-

“are you sure that it’s the same guy?” your sister’s voice came from your phone’s speaker and you sighed, “unfortunately, yes, he is,” and she laughed an evil laugh that told you how much she loved this situation.

“this is golden, you used to be so obsessed with him,” she gasped, you were sure her mind was playing the whole reel of you gushing about jimin, “that was a long time ago, give it up.” you groaned and scrolled mindlessly through your instagram.

jimin had sent you a follow request after you left his house a couple of days ago, you almost fell from the bed when you saw it pop up on your screen but what was more embarrassing was the speed with which you accepted the request and sent one back.

“oh my god, i just remembered how you would go for that weekly school exercise thing just to see him! you used to bend forward, backward, to see him a few lines away, this is amazing, this is amazing!” she sang from your phone and you winced at that memory.

it was true, you only went to the weekly drill to see jimin, a quick glance of his face used to make you unexplainably happy.

but with your fingers scrolling through his posts now, you guessed that some things just don’t change.

jimin would probably be doing the same thing, no one sends an instagram request without the intent to stalk that person’s profile, right?

but maybe he has a life and you don’t.

sigh.

“can you send me a picture of what he looks like right now? also, what is sunoo doing?” she asks and you frown, “sunoo is sleeping and why do you need his picture?”

“i just want to see,” and she starts rambling about how she deserves it as your sister, you tune it out, getting up to answer the door when the bell rings.

“it’s just so crazy to me that he’s back in your life, like imagine meeting your first crush in your nephew’s school? i bet it’s only yo-“ but you’re not listening to her at all anymore because at the other side of the door, are jimin with arin, who have both now heard your embarrassing older sister.

“anyway, send me a picture after you’re finished stalki-“ and you cut the call.

“hello.” you clear your throat, and he waves his hand while arin beams at you.

“oh wait, please come in,” you open your door wider, watching with wide eyes as they both step in and take in your home, you are suddenly too conscious about your pajamas and hair.

you weren’t expecting visitors.

what is he even doing here?

just as you’re about to ask jimin, he turns to you with a guilty look which consists of sad, puppy eyes and a slight pout.

arin truly gets it from her uncle.

how is that look not turning you off?

you know for a fact that the same exact look on another man would have just pissed you off.

“sorry to come so suddenly, you mentioned where you lived in one of our messages and arin was killing me all morning about wanting to see sunoo, and i tried to calm her down, i really did but you know how it gets,” jimin rambles on and on, and you nod along, only half distracted by his long coat and ruffled hair.

he must have come in a rush too.

and yes, you were texting each other and no, it’s very casual and friendly talk only.

“i thought they were fighting?” you ask and signal jimin to follow you into the kitchen where you put on a pot of water to boil.

how did he look like he belonged in your space when he was in it for all of two minutes?

“i thought so too,” jimin laughs and you smile at the sound of his laughter, you loved it then, and you love it now, someone should shoot you to snap you out of whatever magic spell jimin has cast on you.

“arin baby, what do you like?” you turn to her and she shakes her head, “you’re not going to ask me?” jimin raises his arms up in question and you hum, “you take what i give you, park jimin,” and he’s laughing again.

wow, you must be some extraordinary comedian.

“sunoo is sleeping right now but i’m sure he would love to see you guys, i’ll just be right back with him,” you place a cup of green tea in front of jimin and start heading out of the room.

“honey?” you hear as you’re leaving, “nope, cinnamon,” you reply, ignoring the shiver up your spine from how he called out honey.

after a lot of struggle with sunoo’s blanket and begging him, he was finally out of the room and standing in front of arin with his arms crossed, you and jimin watched with interest as they stared at each other.

“what do you think they will do?”

“fight?” you offer and jimin rolls his eyes at you, “they’re kids,” and you shrug, “kids are very good at fighting.”

and your eyes snap back to them when arin hugs sunoo over his crossed arms, you and jimin look at each other with your hearts melting as sunoo tries to resist but soon, gives up and wraps his arms around her.

“they’re so cute,” he whispers, and you nod with your hand over your heart.

sunoo and arin then take off to the living room where his toys are laid out and they’re lost in their own world within the next five minutes.

you and jimin sit in the kitchen, sipping your tea and looking at each other, only to return to sipping your tea, words lost in your tongues and throats.

“was that your sister on the phone?” and you ignore it, staring at the cup of tea with much focus and interest, “hey, she was, wasn’t she?” his voice gets more teasing, more light, more carefree and you hate that it makes you smile, you hate that your cheeks still flush in his presence.

“i won’t tell anyone or will i?” he winks at you when you finally look up and you groan, slamming your face into the table and he giggles next to you, uncontrollably.

“i’m going to kill myself,” you mumble into the table and he brings his hand forward to push your face away from the table and…towards him, his face and you almost fall off a chair once again because of him.

“don’t worry, i stalked you too.”

-

it was scary, how quickly you could come to terms with the fact that you liked jimin again, how quickly your heart accepted him even if ages passed and even if you’ve both changed.

“why do you even like him?” this was a question that your friends had asked you then, a question that your sister asked you then, and a question you often asked yourself.

it was simple to you.

jimin was different.

softer than other men but stronger too.

more delicate but also more protective.

he could make you blush and burst into laughter, in all of two seconds.

he was always like that, even when kids back then were trying to be cool and tough, jimin carried a bright, easy smile with care for the people around him. even if it didn’t always extend to you, it was still there.

but you think that might have changed.

“and you’re sure you are free to pick sunoo up?” your sister asks and you nod happily, “absolutely, don’t worry, i got him,” and she thanks you before cutting the call.

and now, you’re standing in front of his school in a better outfit than you normally would wear, you’re giddy with sweaty palms and flushed cheeks, but you don’t hate this.

“looks like someone’s all dressed up,” you don’t stop yourself from grinning at jimin’s voice from a few feet away.

fine, maybe you’ve been picking sunoo up a lot more these days but that’s just you being the best aunt in the world.

“unlike you, people like putting an effort into their outfits and personal style,” but you’re lying straight out of your teeth, jimin had a very good sense of style but he didn’t need to know that and besides, when he laughs and bumps your shoulder with his, your heart lights up.

so, this is what park jimin is to everyone else.

this is what everyone else felt when they were next to him.

how did all of them not fall in love with him?

you couldn’t have been the only one.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt this sure of something in your life.

you like chocolates, but not in milkshakes or when they are dark.

you like reading books, but sometimes you get into a slump.

you like romantic comedies, but sometimes, you find them cringeworthy and unrealistic.

you like jimin.

but….nothing, you just liked him.

“should we go get ice cream after this?” you turn to see him and he raises his eyebrows so, you quickly backtrack, “sunoo keeps asking for it and arin would like it too,” and he nods at it, you nod fiercely with him.

what your nephew wants, he gets, of course.

“i didn’t ask for ice cream,” is the first thing that flies out of sunoo’s mouth when you tell him about it, you are frozen with your knees bent as jimin stifles a burst of laughter behind his palms and you know if you turn around, you might as well bury yourself six feet under.

“sunoo,” you warn-whisper and he just tilts his head at you, you drop your head, there is no point in blaming your nephew for this, you’ve done this to yourself.

you grab sunoo’s hand and speed-walk to your car without looking back, with red cheeks and shaky palms.

the universe seems to be hell-bent on making sure that you embarrass yourself in front of park jimin for the rest of your life.

“hey hey, where are you going?” jimin pulls you back with his hand around your elbow and you purse your lips, “did you not hear my nephew out me?”

he throws his head back in laughter, “i did but don’t be silly, let’s go,” and you frown, “go where?”

“for ice cream,” and you’re lost again, he’s tutting at you, “if you want ice cream, we’re getting ice cream,” and looks down at you with a grin that has you holding your smile back, “okay.”

at the ice cream store, jimin hovers around you, asks you your favorites, asks you if you like desserts, asks if you like movies or tv shows, and you answer each question with increasing fondness towards him.

god, you must love attention.

“you were so intimidating in school,” and your jaw dropped, “no, i wasn’t! if anything, you were intimidating,” and jimin shook his head, “no way, how was i intimidating? i talked to everyone.”

you wipe ice cream from the corners of sunoo’s mouth as you speak, “that was intimidating to me because i didn’t talk to too many people,” and jimin nods, “and for me, you were intimidating, i could talk to literally anyone and everyone but you.”

“but why?”

“why?” he looks up in question and you pause for a second, not knowing if you should continue the sentence, “but why was i intimidating? why couldn’t you talk to me?”

because i would’ve given everything to talk to you, stays deep in your throat.

jimin sits back in his seat, pondering for a few seconds and you almost take it back, you almost tell him to forget it but then he opens his mouth, “you were intimidating because you were always good at what you did,” and your eyes widen by their own accord, you had never heard that from anyone except your drama teacher.

“i don’t know if you remember but i was so lost in the beginning, i didn’t know anything about acting but you set this example that i could follow and it was easier for me, you were constantly checking on me too,” he laughs amusedly, as if that time was playing behind his eyes and you crack a smile too, though your heart just got warmer and warmer until it felt like it was catching on fire.

“you were good at it too, jimin, especially the dance,” he was taken for his dance skills first and he was bloody good at it, “i know, i was amazing,” and you’re throwing a tissue paper at him.

“but i wanted to talk to you,” he nods as he speaks and you can’t help it, “because you knew that i liked you?”

he stops himself from grinning, “that was the biggest shock of my teenage life, y/n,” and you roll your eyes, “i know, it’s hard for me to believe too,” he groans and slides into his seat, making you giggle.

“did you…really like me?” his voice is soft, unguarded, and he throws one arm over his eyes, you notice his cheeks are red too and you shift in your seat, the mood was shifting, you didn’t want to giggle and deny it like you probably would have if he asked that even some ten seconds ago.

“i did,” and he removes his arm, and stares at you unsuredly, as if he doesn’t believe you and you clench your hands on your lap to hold back from saying anything else.

“home!” a chorus from the kids you’ve forgotten about brings you back to life, a life where it wasn’t just you and jimin in it.

jimin smiles, “how about a refill?” and as they cheer out loud, he looks at you, and you know that look.

he had something to say.

-

you both got scolded by your respective siblings for giving their kids extra ice creams but it also meant that the kids loved you more, you and jimin had giggled about it on text.

it was a win-win for you.

but what was even more of a win-win was that jimin purposefully got them extra ice cream to spend more time with you, you are about 90% sure that’s the reason.

you spent about half the day in that ice cream parlour, and jimin asked you questions that no one else ever has and you asked him all those things you never got to when you were in school.

it was terrifying, to talk to him like that, to give him parts of what made you, you, and it was especially terrifying when you gave all of it away so easily.

“so, you’re coming to pick him up, right? like this isn’t an extra task for you?” jimin’s voice through a phone was different, lower, more serious, you loved it.

“definitely, don’t even worry about it, i’ll pick her up and bring her over,” you didn’t know what it said that he trusted you with his niece but it had to be something good, it made you feel fantastic.

“thank you so much, seriously, i owe you one,” and you can sense the relief in his tone, “you do owe me one, yes,” he laughs at your tone, “you get here, i’ll make it up to you very well.”

on the whole way there, you are so giddy that you can’t stop smiling.

you never understood why people got so excited over phone calls but if it was up to you, you would’ve never even cut the call with jimin.

when you get to the school, sunoo and arin are holding each other’s hands and standing obediently next to margaret.

“hi kids, today auntie is going to take you both home, are we excited?” sunoo and arin raise their hands up in joy and you resist the urge to pick them both up and give them one nice hug.

“her uncle called and said you would be picking her up,” margaret smiles at you knowingly and you roll your eyes, “it’s nothing like that margaret, we’re good friends,” and she scoffs at you but it only makes you giddier.

it felt good that someone, besides you, liked the idea of you two together.

you: picked them up, on my way over!

jimin: thanks again, see you soon <3

you almost throw your phone out of the window in happiness but for the sake of the kids, for them to think you’re not some insane person, you just grin and put your phone aside.

“okay arin, let’s go to your uncle’s place,” after checking them, you fasten your seatbelt and they both cheer again.

oh, you love these kids.

as you pull away, they instantly start rambling about their day, which picture they were made to draw, which teacher annoyed them, which toy was stolen, which color pencil they lost and you nod intently, offering dramatic reactions wherever you could.

“and then mummy told me that i had to throw away some toys but can you talk to mummy? i like my toys,” sunoo whines to you and you sigh, “you got it buddy, i’ll deal with your mother.”

“so arin, what have you been upto? anything exciting?” and she lights up, “i drew a castle today, do you want to see?”

“of course baby, as soon as we’re home, i absolutely have to see it,” your agreement only makes her happier, “our new home is nice, i like it, mummy and daddy made my room pink, and i even have a close friend!”

“is that so? who’s this lucky person?”

“it’s miss ana, uncle jimi’s girlfriend! she’s always over at uncle’s home and she likes me, i like her too.” and she goes back to swinging her legs and poking at sunoo until he laughs.

in the front seat, you are frozen and confused.

“your uncle has a girlfriend?” you try to sound casual and you hate that you’re asking a kid about this but you couldn’t help it.

“yeah.” she shrugs and goes back to sunoo.

you felt your stomach turn.

of course, he has a girlfriend.

of course, you had read it all wrong.

of course, you are the idiot again.

you kept your eyes steady on the road as the feeling of nothingness settled into you.

you would get over this, you got over jimin once, you could do it again and next time, you wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of thinking that anyone could ever like you for anything more than what you present them. you’ve gotten over first boyfriends, situationships, and dates which felt like they would lead somewhere and you would get over this too.

it was weird that you could still feel the same embarrassment of liking jimin, the same pathetic feeling you get when you overestimate yourself and what people feel about you, rises and falls in your chest.

but it was okay.

you’ll get over this.

-

“oh jimin! jimin!” you turned your face away from classmates who yelled his name.

somehow, the cat was out of the bag and everyone knew about your crush on him, your bets were on one of your play’s cast members but you couldn’t point a finger at anyone. your school was small and boring enough for this kind of stuff to spread quickly.

it was true, you did like him, a lot but you never wanted anyone to know, you only wanted him to know.

you were hoping to catch him alone, tell him that you liked him, and accept whichever response he gave you, he didn’t have to like you back but now, he knew, you knew that he knew, it was just not in the way you ever wanted him to know.

and then one day it happened.

the quiet rejection.

the annoyance of being liked by someone you don’t like back.

“look, look! they’re together” you were in the hallway, talking to your friends and jimin was just a few feet away, your friends were subtly pushing you toward him while you pushed back and his friends were pushing him.

that itself was embarrassing enough.

then, your back hit his back and you froze, skin tingling already but he immediately pushed away, and you heard him yell at his friends.

“how many times have i told you guys not to bring her up? how many?” jimin was a gentle guy, that was the first time he had yelled at someone and it was because of you.

and since then, whenever you were in the same room, he would look away with an irritated sigh, he would leave the room or he would glare at his friends until they shut up.

you took it all in, you really did, you just reasoned to yourself that you too, would be very annoyed if your friends acted like that.

but one day, you were alone in your art classroom, arranging some portraits and he walked in, your eyes met his and you were both too aware of how empty your surroundings were, for the first time in a really long time.

he immediately stepped back, his footsteps landed heavily as he walked away.

no one was there.

no one to make fun of him, no one to see or hear.

but he still pretended that you didn’t exist.

your feelings were more tender then.

your heart was a bit too soft and you had taken that as his reply, his response, his rejection and you buried your crush.

your chest was tight the entire day, you couldn’t speak without choking up because as much as you accepted his rejection, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

he never uttered a word to you since then.

you vowed to yourself never to like anyone too much again.

-

“how was school, guys? i missed you,” jimin hugged arin and sunoo as soon as they entered his home and you stood near the door frame with your heart in your throat.

today wouldn’t have been so hard if you didn’t have to see him.

they leave his arms and run into the house, their bags and socks left behind and you quickly collect sunoo’s stuff to put them aside.

“hey,” he appears beside you and you nod, keeping your eyes away from his face.

“i missed you too,” and you wish that you didn’t give in to seeing his face because as soon as you turn to face him, you are in front of his warm eyes and smile, the ones you were so jealous others could see.

but whatever feeling tried to creep on you, you shoved it away.

you nod again, swallowing and the warm scene fades and it’s replaced with a stiff awkwardness that both of you feel in a flash.

you see it go away, the warmth, the smile, the eyes, all of it drops and you hate that you feel terrible even if you didn’t do anything.

“arin made a castle drawing, it’s in her bag,” you say and jimin frowns before shaking his head, “of course, i’ll see it later.”

and your head bobs once again, the only response you could produce at the moment and when jimin steps forward, you step back.

“hey, is everything okay?” he asks, fingers reaching to scratch the nape of his neck confusedly, “yeah, everything’s fine.”

this time, he’s the one nodding and pushing his hands into his pockets, “i’ll make you tea, come on,” you have no choice but to follow him in, though you stay at least five steps behind him.

any touch from him would break your resolve, you couldn’t afford that, not anymore.

“honey or cinnamon?”

“honey.”

“alright,” jimin frowns once again, turning away to boil some water.

and you sit there, wondering if this is all you could ever be with him, wondering if both of you were always destined to be close and far, you feel scalded by the fact that he had never mentioned a girlfriend, you hadn’t asked but he shouldn’t have been texting you the way he was.

“you know, i owe you one,” he turns with a mug of steaming green tea and you stiffen in your seat when he hands it to you with a small, unsure smile, “would you accept dinner as me making it up to you?”

twenty minutes ago, you would’ve jumped up, spilling hot tea everywhere, and closed around him, your arms and heart giving even more way for him, but that was twenty minutes ago, now your arms and heart were closing in on themselves.

him rejecting you in school, you could handle.

him hating your presence, you could handle.

but this, you could only handle for about five minutes before you crumbled.

you should’ve never let your young feelings grow and stay.

“don’t worry about it, you don’t have to do anything, it was just one pickup,” you shrug, playing with the handle of your mug and you see jimin visibly deflate.

“okay, i don’t know what’s going on, is everything okay? did i do something?” the pleading in his tone was there, the sincerity in his face was there but you couldn’t believe any of it.

“nothing happened, jimin, it’s just that you don’t have to make up for anything,” you couldn’t bring yourself to confront his betrayal, to ask him about his girlfriend, you know that any answer would just hurt you more.

“fine, i don’t want to make up for anything, i want to take you out on a date, a proper date without anyone else around, because,” and he pauses, you release the breath caught in your chest, grateful and disappointed that he didn’t finish his sentence.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” you give a weak smile, feeling your bones tighten in your body, you would snap like a bowstring if this continued.

jimin looks away, chest rising and falling slowly, he squeezes his eyes shut and you see his hands shake as he whispers, “why?”

“sunoo is sleep!” arin’s yell makes you get up immediately, the distraction was welcome and needed, “also, see this!” she shoves her drawing into your hands and you smile at the messy green castle.

“it’s beautiful, arin, just like you,” you tap her nose and she giggles, you are all too aware of jimin’s stare on your back so, you pat her head and rush to take sunoo out of her bed and into your arms.

you held your nephew tighter to you, his sleeping form was the only thing keeping you stable, you never realized before how much you needed him the way he needed you but today, you needed him most even if he was just sleeping in your arms.

you don’t say bye to jimin on your way out, you only hug arin, ask her to take care, and leave his home with your mind so heavy that you feel like you could tip and fall over.

but as you pull away, you catch jimin in your side mirrors, he stands as if he’s lost everything, you almost turn back, break down in his arms, and ask him why he was so cruel to you, but you drive away instead.

-

“and you’re sure that he won’t be there?” you ask megan for the third time over the phone and she sighs, “listen, it’s his friend, i can’t tell him not to invite his friend but i did tell him that something happened, the rest is truly up to him,” and you bite your lip in annoyance.

it’s been two weeks, you’ve successfully avoided jimin at sunoo’s school, you’ve ignored his calls and deleted his texts without reading them, and you were only one more week away from mentally cutting him off completely.

but again, the universe hated you and noah’s birthday came up right as you were starting to forget that a person named jimin existed.

“you’re right, i’m sorry for being difficult and i’ll be there, noah is sort of my friend too,” you give in, you couldn’t be a bitch to your friends just because you were going through something, and megan hums, “but just know that i won’t judge you at all for not showing up, it’s totally your call.”

you thank her and close your eyes as the call goes dead on the other end.

what a fucking mess.

-

“happy birthday to you!” you sing with everyone else as noah shyly stands in the center with the birthday candles lighting up his face.

it was nice to see your friends again, you melted into every hug they gave you as you walked into noah’s home, you almost teared up at how much you needed them, you were annoyed with all of them just weeks ago but now, you saw clearly that you needed people who cared about you in your life.

“how are you feeling now?” faye put her head on your shoulder as you sat on the couch and you hum, “i’ve been better babe but i’ll be fine soon, i promise,” you squeeze her hand and she purses her lips, “i don’t think he will come, you know, it’s already been a while since the party started, everyone will leave in an hour or so,” and you know that she’s trying to make you feel better.

“thank you for saying that but even if he does come, it’s okay, it’s not like i’ll see him after this,” you shrug and she nods unsurely, “but it’s also okay if you feel shitty that he’s here, you know? you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine with all of it, it’s not a great situation, he lied to you and you’re hurt, you’re allowed to be hurt.”

you blink back tears as you try to rush some air into your lungs that tighten with each word from her.

“i love you, faye.” you whisper, “i love you more,” she smiles and pats you on the back before getting up, “now i’m going to get us some drinks so you stay there in that emotional mood,” you laugh at her and shoo her away.

maybe you weren’t fine now, you won’t need to be for a while but you’ll be okay at some point.

you sigh, you don’t want to be here anymore and pretty much everyone’s given you the green light to leave, you can always have drinks with faye another time so, you get up, surer than ever that you don’t want to be okay anymore, you kiss your friend’s goodbye, you thank noah for inviting you and you step out to the cold night.

right near your car, just as you feel relieved and light, you hear it.

“y/n?” and then quick footsteps.

a presence behind you.

his voice in your ears and bones.

and you freeze.

you hold the key to your car and your legs feel so heavy, they might as well be dead, and you blink, you do nothing but blink until he’s in front of you.

you almost cry at the sight of his face.

“you’re leaving?” jimin huffs out, his breath leaving white clouds in the night and you just stare.

how could someone so beautiful lie to you?

you only come back to earth when you feel him scanning your face and body, as if he was re-remembering what you looked like, as if he was savoring you in front of him but you knew it was all deceitful.

and you lose it.

“don’t you feel ashamed?” you breathe out, feeling every nerve in you tighten impossibly, your body was once again a bowstring being pulled, in front of him.

tight and so breakable.

jimin’s entire face falls, “about what, y/n? why haven’t you been answering my texts and calls? why are you suddenly ignoring me? what is going on? i tried to come up with so many reasons but none of them made sense, i thought we were heading towards something good?” and his face looks so pained, so sad that you almost break.

almost.

“i should’ve never fucking liked you in school, i should’ve never given you that ego boost, i should’ve seen you for who you are,” you angrily spit out as you fumble with your keys and open your car.

without looking at him even once, you climb in, leaning back once you are in.

but immediately, as you begin to start the engine, another door opens and jimin is in your car.

jimin is in your car.

“what the fuck are you doing? get out!” you yell at him, and he shakes his head, “i’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what is going on.”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you, get out jimin, or i swear to god,” you huff out, feeling your hands shake from the rage you felt, he doesn’t move an inch, “or what?”

“seriously?”

“yeah, if i don’t get out, what will you do?”

“i’ll fucking crash this car.” you level your glare on him and he sits back, “do it.”

“what?”

“do it, crash it, i’ll pay for the repairs, but i’m not getting out until you tell me why you hate me right now.” the calmness he had at that moment, the level in his tone never wavering, pissed you off even more.

“fine, we can sit here all night,” you shrug, desperate to match his cool, you switch off the engine, “fine by me,” jimin shrugs back and you clench your teeth to not groan at him.

minutes pass, you tap your foot against the floor of the car, he looks out the window, and both of you sit stubbornly without making a move.

you should be furious.

you should be still trying to kick him out.

but you slowly start to deflate, your anger fades bit by bit as the feeling of missing him, liking him even now, begins blooming in you again.

“who is ana?” you whisper, not trying to hide how sad just mentioning her name made you.

whatever his answer was, you would move on.

you never liked him for him to like you back, not then and not now, but it felt good to believe that somewhere, he felt the same desperate, pathetic love that you did, that somewhere, he was different with you the way you were different with him, that he too lost his cool and common sense when it came to you.

“what?” he frowns and you sigh, “please don’t lie to me jimin, just tell me who she is and why you never told me that she was your girlfriend.” you choke back the sobs building in your throat, and jimin immediately leans towards you, “hey, hey, what girlfriend are you talking about? i don’t have a girlfriend.”

you laugh bitterly through your tears, “so, you’re calling your baby niece a liar?”

“arin? what did she say?” he continues to frown, seemingly growing more confused by every passing second, which only makes you more confused, “that ana is your girlfriend? she’s always at your place?”

“ana? oh!” and jimin throws his head back on the seat, eyes closing in what you thought was relief, “ana is her new babysitter, y/n,” you huff out in annoyance, “believe it or not jimin but i’m not as stupid as you think i am, how fucking convenient is it that a woman your niece calls your girlfriend, turns out to be her sitter.”

and he gapes at you before throwing his arms up, “i’m sorry that the truth is convenient and fits with the situation!” he yells back at you and you glare at him, “oh really? then why is she over when you’re there with arin already? why does arin think she’s your girlfriend? do you have an explanation for any of that?”

“i do, but only if you’re willing to at least hear me out,” and jimin is back to calm, back to zen, and you want to push him out of the car, “see, i know it sounds bad if she just mentioned the girlfriend part but i’ve told you, arin is shy, she never talks to anyone, she doesn’t like sitters, she takes a lot of time to get used to strangers so i’m a buffer until she gets used to ana so, that ana can just babysit her at my brother’s place instead of mine.”

you narrow your eyes at him as you process his words. unfortunately, it made a lot of sense, sunoo was the same, that is why you always babysat him.

“okay, then why call her your girlfriend?”

“because she thinks friends if they’re girls are girlfriends,” he sighs out and you purse your lips, that also made sense, especially with kids as young as sunoo and arin.

“i see.” you whisper back, not knowing how to feel about all this, it made sense, you should be over the moon, falling into his arms, telling him that you feel everything again, that you like him again but you freeze instead.

you were so ready to move on.

you were so ready to never see him again.

and you were so ready to never know his response, to never know what he felt.

but you are here, in front of him, as he waited for you to speak with anxious eyes and you only felt overwhelmed.

“okay.”

“okay?”

“thanks for explaining, if you get off, i will go now,” you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you, refusing to look at him even through your periphery.

“seriously? do you need time or is something else wrong?” you hear the pleading in his tone, the desperation, you wonder if you ever sounded like that to him.

“nothing’s wrong, i’m glad you explained, and now, i’d like to go home,” this always happened, whenever your emotions got too much, whenever it seemed like everything would fall on your head and crush you, you slipped into robot mode, where you refused to feel anything, where you refused to be human, where your feelings were nothing but dust in the air.

it’s how you never went back to a boyfriend, how you never begged anyone for anything and it kept you protected.

“why are you doing this?” but god, the crack in his voice might just break your resolve.

“doing what, jimin? i just want to go home,” you try to reason and he huffs in annoyance, “that’s not what this is, you aren’t even looking at me.”

and you pause.

take a deep breath.

look at him.

and the warmth you missed for all your teenage life, lights you up, beyond his frown, his gathering tears, his clear sadness, his warmth peeked through and stared straight at you.

you knew you had to go, leave before you couldn’t but where will you go?

how many times will you turn your back on yourself?

how many chances do you have left with jimin?

and will he ever take those chances the way you will?

“you’ll never like me, jimin,” you start, unwilling but forcing yourself to pull through, he opens his mouth to protest and you cut him off, “you’ll never like me as much as i like you.”

and his mouth falls shut.

“and i’ll always know that, i’ll always know that you like me less than i like you, that you hated me at a time when i would’ve done anything for you, and by some miracle, it’s changed now, you might like me but never as much as i like you, my past of loving you as a kid, will always haunt me, and your rejection then will always hurt me,” you have tears dripping down your chin by the time you’ve finished and you know it will only pain you more if you look at him so, you stare at your lap.

you wait for him to get off, to go away, to finally understand why you two would never work out.

“so, please let’s leave this be, i’ll continue to bring sunoo around for arin, we can be civil for them but whatever this is, i can’t do it, not with you,” you whisper, hoping that it was loud enough for him to hear but he stays eerily still, staring into nothing and you wonder if he didn’t hear you.

“jimin, can you-“

“what about me?”

“now you’re just being childish,” your anger rises again.

“no, i never got the chance to explain my side at all, what if i like you more? what if i liked you way before you did?” your heart stops in your throat at his words but you shake it off, “this isn’t a competition, jimin!”

“fine, then this should just be a casual question, when did you start liking me? in school, when did it start?”

“seriously? what are you trying to prove here?” you turn to fully face him with a scowl.

“just tell me.” he sits just as rigid, just as fed up, and it only irritates you even more but your face goes red nonetheless at the memory, “ball room scene, dance practice.”

“i liked you when you gave me the script,” and you want to look away, ignore all of what he says but you only lean in further and he leans in too as if letting you in on a secret that no one else knows,  “i remember exactly how stomach-bottoming it felt, how scared i was because i thought you would never like me back.”

“really?” you’re leaning in even closer, so much more desperate to every other secret of his.

“really, and i’m not saying this because it’s a competition, i’m saying this because i couldn’t then, i didn’t have the courage, i liked you so much that the thought of you rejecting me, it would’ve killed me,” he laughs, both amused and horrified at the truth spilling out from his lips, but you see the fear too, the restrain in his breath, and it makes your own shoulders fall.

“then why did you act so annoyed whenever someone teased you?” you whisper again, embarrassed to ask the question because it made you feel like a kid again, the same kid who hid her feelings to make sure that he wasn’t inconvenienced by your heart.

he drops his head in quiet laughter, “imagine you like this person so much that your whole body fails you, and there’s some idiots making it even harder for me to look you in the eye,” he looks up at you as he says it and your spine weakens to fall on the seat behind you, every word of his puncturing itself into your heart.

jimin copied your movements and fell back too, sighing out, “i also knew how annoying it could be for you so i thought if i acted like that for a while, they would forget but fuck, they were persistent. honestly, i thought you would figure it out because of them.”

“figure out what?” you are breathless by the time the question escapes you.

“your crush was never one-sided, y/n, but mine was, at least for a little while.” you blush, not knowing what to do with your face anymore, you didn’t know if you were smiling or frozen or frowning but the numbness, the blind excitement left you gasping.

and jimin purses his lips, “i might’ve been this bright kid who talked to everyone then, but none of that helped me when it came to you, it was like every bit of confidence i had fell from me when i was around you and it was alarming, you know, it was so fucking scary to feel so different because of one person.”

and there it was.

the confirmation.

that he was different with you, that he too lost his head with you.

“what about later? when we met again?”

“oh that, i was trying to be cool, it didn’t work, right?” he winced and you couldn’t help the laugh bubbling out of you, “nope, not at all.” and jimin bangs his head against the headrest and you sit there, smiling.

it was strange, the elation and frustration you felt, it was strange to sit next to jimin and hear the words from him that you’ve waited for forever.

but you won’t hold that over him anymore and you were done burying your heart.

���i like you,” you say, twisting to face him and he smiles, not bothering to hide it, “a lot, jimin, i liked you then, i like you now, a lot and i’m scared.”

he leans forward to take one of your hands into his palms, you melt your fingers into his skin, and he speaks with a smile and with the world’s confidence and fear, “i like you, i’m sure that like is love too, it’s always been there and i’m scared too.”

“but i like you and i’ll continue to do that while i’m scared.” and any worry you had, flies out the window.

you feel brave.

you feel like you could fly and never see the ground again.

you stare at him for a minute or two, until his face is in your head like it’s your own face and you cross the barrier, in this case, the handbrake in your car to climb into his lap and you shiver when he buries his face into your neck.

you loved him when you didn’t know what it meant, and jimin loved you before he ever knew his heart could feel so much.

and that was enough for you to smile into his hair and wrap your arms tighter around his neck.

“i’ll do the same, jimin.”

-

jimin felt heavy with the love in his heart, with his arms on your waist, with his fingertips touching your skin, he felt overwhelmed, a bit crazy, and definitely scared out of his mind.

this was it.

the performance.

after today, you probably wouldn’t even look at him again, he’ll probably be just another guy who sees you walk down the hallway.

he knows when this funny feeling in his heart started, you had passed him the script and walked right past him to teach someone else how to do their scenes, and instantly he saw you, he saw nothing but you.

being the loser he was, he messed up any scene he could so that you could walk over, glare at him, and then, help him endlessly, help him until he was perfect (which he already was).

and he was alone in that pathetic-ness, alone in that feeling until one day, you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky and he didn’t know what to do with himself since that day.

but he had you in his arms, he had you in front of him, he had you in every moment of being on the stage and he knows he can’t just get off.

“and…cut!” jimin deflates, his arms that were so sure of holding you, weaken and fall from you.

then, the lights die and his confidence dies, and he feels ashamed of himself, so much so that he leaves the stage immediately.

he hears the cheers, the screams, the applause but none of that matters when the words he’s wanted to say die inside of him.

but he stops below the stage, looks up to see you hugging everyone on the stage, and hates himself a little but charges forward.

he would love you from afar.

but he would continue to love you.

[pynkhues]

Today's Lestat's birthday so I wanted to ask you, do you have any headcanons how lestat would spend it in Rue Royale era, shack era and distant future?

Okay okay okay:

Rue Royale Era

Thing is, Lestat doesn't even really consider his birthday A Thing until Louis asks when it is, offhand, back in 1910. This human little thing that Lestat feels so far behind him, but Louis' 33, Louis' still mortal, for Louis, birthdays are like hometowns which is to say they're the bed you grow from, not the place you do everything in your power to get away from, and Lestat has to wrack his head to even remember.

But he remembers and he tells him and Louis takes it like the card he needs to win a hand, wry smiled and pleased, with a smug little okay like he's already hung it on the wall of his head, and Lestat doesn't pry into his mind over it because he doesn't know he should. Doesn't know yet that Louis likes plans and dates and moments to work towards, doesn't know that sentiment is tied up in milestones is tied up in a picture Louis would paint for himself given the chance, and so November 7 rolls around like any other day and he's surprised when Louis suddenly insists on picking him up. On taking him out.

And it's a carefully planned affair. A night out on The Tango Belt, a strip of dance halls and jazz bars in the French Quarter, still in its infancy then, that had Lestat's ears ringing in the best possible way, a delight on his face that he'd felt Louis revel in, and they drank and laughed and danced not yet with each other, but with drape-dressed women, watching each other over narrow shoulders and feathered hair fastinators, something palpable in the air between them.

And it had been Louis who had drunkenly slid a bill to the band that night, beckoning them to lead a jazzy-tempoed rendition of Happy Birthday that had Lestat wet eyed and flushed, unable to look at anything that wasn't Louis, who didn't sing along, but rather looked right back at Lestat, like Lestat's tears were a prize hard won, and Lestat had wanted so desperately to kiss him, to tell him this was a first for him, to celebrate this ridiculous little day, to tell him he'd expected nothing, wanted nothing, but instead had only smiled, coy and grateful, before draining Louis' dance partner out back. Drinking down the memory of Louis' shoulders so easily held, his breath on the crown of his head, his ever beating heart so close to this woman's - - to his own. Been able to sleep that night with the memory of Louis in his arms.

The gift though had come the next day - an Amberola I phongraph, a luxury music machine that was delivered to Lestat's door and installed by a ruddy-faced technician, and Louis had never claimed it. Given no note with it, no acknowledgement, but he'd said it in the days after, tenderness naked on his face, you must mean somethin', to whoever bought you this, and Lestat had played along even as he'd felt the memory in Louis' human mind, the effort, the cost, the intent with which he'd found it, along with the few jazz records he'd delivered it with.

And the thing was later, after it all, in those years of recovery and grief, he could forgive Louis for killing him, but he'd never forgive him for dumping the Amberola somewhere Lestat would never find it.

Shack era

After Claudia and Louis kill him, after they leave, after Claudia - -

He doesn't think about his birthday.

No, he doesn't think of his, and although he thinks of Louis', the only one he marks out in the loose-leafed calendar of his head, is Claudia's.

Hers was always the first of the year after all - her orange-tipped September before Louis' dark October and Lestat's frost-bit November, the spring to the seasons of their nocturnal little family, and these days, he doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't do anything but beg for her ghost at the piano beside him. Feels the whisper of her little hand beneath his, a duet they always rehearsed but never wanted to play, and even now, her spirit is reticent, but it's there. He knows, he feels her. His birthday girl, behind the instrument she'd complained about learning but learnt all the same (she loves it, Louis had told him once. Only pretends she doesn't because she's her, because you're you. A nice thought, yes, but not one Lestat can bring himself to believe).

Still, he feels her watch him sometimes. Her amber eyes as bright as they ever were, but her voice lost to the veil between them. The ghost of her and the ghost of him, pointing fingers always but still - - a finger pointed is a hand outstretched, is it not?

(Anyway, they were never very good at talking.)

Distant future

Once he gets famous, everyone knows his birthday, and Daniel seems to enjoy it. Pulling on the mind gift only to read him the most impassioned (Lestat's words, Daniel's preferred choice is deranged) posts he can find on all the social media sites, and for Lestat, he likes it.

Relishes the attention, the creativity, the worship it generates among his legions of followers, even as Louis rolls his eyes beside him in bed. Takes the time to remind him over and over that none of these people know him, that they do the same since the book, the documentary, for his own birthday too, and it doesn't go to his head, that it's not real, but Lestat disagrees.

Thinks that human capacity for creation and connection with figures of art and celebrity is a thrill, iconography in action, and Lestat spends too long on his phone loving pictures and posting strings of what Daniel calls unintelligable emojis, relishing in the flurry of attention it gets from his fans until Louis pries his phone from his hands, tossing it over the bed and kisses him in the way they couldn't on the dance floor all those years ago.

And maybe that feels like a birthday gift every year - that he no longer has to drink from the veins of others to wonder what Louis tastes like, to feel the sinew of his shoulders beneath his hands, for Louis' heartbeat to echo through his own chest.

That Louis is his, and he's Louis', and every birthday marks another year together, older but never quite wiser, another year of holding the blistering star of their love between their hands, and Lestat needs no gestures these days. Has endured centuries without them, before and after Louis ever gave him one, but still.

Maybe he cries a lot when they move in together and that old Amerola I phonograph is there, tucked tenderly, earnestly, battered, but well-kept, into the corner of Lestat's new music room.

[lynnsartsworld]

Hi Lynn!!💓💓

Some questions for April:

1) What’s your favorite thing about Poppy?

2) What’s your favorite memory?

3) What’s your family like?

Love, myokk💓💓 (can’t send messages from a sideblog😆)

Question for One:

April’s Reaction:

April’s cheeks flush with a warm smile as she reads the question. Her fingers brush over the words, and she giggles softly, looking a bit bashful yet delighted. “Oh, I love this question! It’s so sweet! Of course, I’d love to talk about Poppy.”

April’s Answer:

“My favorite thing about Poppy? That’s hard because there’s so much I love about her! But if I had to pick one thing, I’d say it’s her kindness. She has this gentle, quiet way of caring for everyone around her, like she just knows when someone needs a bit of extra love or support. It’s one of those things that makes you feel safe and understood, you know? And she has this wonderful way of making any moment feel special. She’s truly one of a kind, and I’m so grateful to have her in my life.”

She pauses, smiling to herself as she thinks of Poppy, the fondness clear in her eyes.

✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱

Question for Two:

April’s Reaction:

April’s eyes light up as she reads the question, and a soft, nostalgic smile spreads across her face. She takes a moment, lost in thought, before a memory clearly surfaces, making her eyes shimmer with happiness.

April’s Answer:

“My favorite memory? Oh, that’s a tough one because there are so many wonderful moments. But if I had to choose, it would be this quiet, cozy night with Poppy. We’d been out all day, just exploring and enjoying ourselves, and by the time we got back, we were exhausted. We made hot chocolate, curled up under a big blanket, and just talked for hours. It wasn’t about anything grand or exciting—it was just us, being close, laughing, and sharing little secrets. It felt so special and comforting, like time had slowed down just for us. I think those simple, heartfelt moments are the ones that stay with me the most.”

April sighs softly, hugging her arms around herself as she recalls the warmth of that night, a sweet glow of happiness lingering.

✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱

Question for Three:

April’s Reaction:

April’s face lights up with warmth as she thinks about her little family. Her eyes soften, and she places a hand over her heart, clearly filled with love and gratitude.

April’s Answer:

“My family… where do I even begin? Poppy is just everything. She’s my best friend, my love, my anchor. She’s so caring and thoughtful, always knowing just how to make me feel safe and cherished. And then there’s Evangeline, our little light. She’s curious and sweet, with a smile that can brighten any room. I see so much of Poppy in her—the same kindness and spark. The three of us together, we’re this wonderful mix of love, laughter, and the occasional chaos that comes with raising a little one. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. It’s… home.”

April’s smile widens, and she glances away, her cheeks slightly pink, as if she’s still amazed that this is the family she’s built and the life she’s been blessed with.

✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱

April lets out a playful sigh of relief, a little grin on her face.

“Wow, I think that’s a wrap for now!” she laughs. “Those questions really made me think, but I loved answering every single one. It was like this little chance to share my heart, you know? And honestly, if anyone has more questions, I’d be happy to answer them. This was fun!”

She glances around with a bright smile, already eager for whatever else might come her way.

[missameliep]

Choices Spread Kindness - Day One: Choices Fandom Shoutout Day

I've joined the Choices fandom in October 2018, after months seeing random posts, fanart and fanfic while googling some of the books I was reading at the time. I've never thought a silly app I installed to distract myself during many sleepless nights when my daughter was still a baby would bring me here and allow me to meet so many wonderful human beings!

Some people have deactivated over the years or moved on from this fandom, but still had an impact on me and I'm grateful for every single one of them. Even if I'm not so active anymore, and barely read new books in the past years, the Choices fandom will always be special since in the most wonderful and unexpected way it allowed me to find so many talented, kind, loving and interesting people, it offered me the chance to meet people who live so far away and make good friends.

So, I'd like to take the chance to thank you all who in any way supported my writing, made me smile with your posts and jokes, amazed me with your fanfics and fanart (I'll never get over the fact there are so many spectacularly talented artists in this small fandom of ours!), for all the lovely messages, for making me reflect on important matters etc. I'm grateful for every single one of you, and I apologise in advance if I forget someone.

And, of course, a special thank you to the lovely host @lovealexhunt - You're such a gem and we're so lucky to have you around! Thank you for constantly organizing these events to keep the fandom going, thinking of others and just spreading kindness. Your posts about mental health are so informative and I have said it before, but I appreciate every single kind message you sent and others, and I hope you receive all this love back.

Tagging all the people who made my experience in this fandom much better with your support (to me and other creators), by organizing events and hyping other creators, or just by being kind (even if we never talked) and who deserve appreciation:

@princess-geek @lorirwritesfanfic @rosesnink @aallotarenunelma @annie-napier @brightpinkpeppercorn @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire @lilyoffandoms @lizzybeth1986 @ezekielbhandarivalleros @alj4890 @dalishessence @jerzwriter @peonierose @ladylamrian @kingliam2019 @kyra75 @cashweasel @lou-who-writes @musicallisto @retvenkos @aerinisback @trappedinfanfiction @thequeenofpixels @homeformyheart @dcbbw @angelasscribbles @mrsnazariowrites @ritachacha

[grenade-attack]

Another day of missing my Arch.

Lately I’ve been thinking back to old messages, and looking back to the ones I still have left of him (screenshots and such, and photos of him). I still miss him alot. If by chance he comes back to Tumblr some day, whether under a different alias, I hope we will find a way to speak once more. The friendship and caring love I felt with him during our short time together shifted my perspective in some ways. On the surface, he seemed horrible, how he portrayed himself and how he described himself was nothing less than unsavory. But, underneath all of that, was a guy who just needed a good friend. Still, I’m glad I could bring him comfort and support when he needed it most. He’s sincere, caring, and ultimately a great friend. Though our time together was cut short, I still consider him a dear friend and one I won’t forget about. Atleast I still have remnants of his presence. Something that sticks with me is when we were matching Halloween outfits, and sent eachother photos. I took a photo of me and his name on a slip of paper, and he loved it. I still have the paper folded in my wallet, yeah corny I know. I don’t know why I’m grieving over someone who’s (hopefully) not dead. Whether he got interrogated by the Feds or FBI, I hope he’s safe and gets the help he deserves. He opened up to me, and for that I’ll always be grateful for. I will never consider him an "old friend" or "ex friend" because a piece of me will always cling onto the hope that he will return, and I'll have my Arch back. Though I can't feel his pain, I think of him everyday. I saw a pureness in him that nobody in his life cared to see. I wish I was more outwardly affectionate, more loving. I just wish we could've spoken one last time. I wish I could’ve told him how much he meant to me, that all the struggles and burdens he carried he didn’t have to go through alone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“And you never knew how much I really liked you. Because I never even told you, oh and I meant to”

Come back home Archie, I miss you dearly.

These are all the screenshots I have left of him, but I hold so many more memories in my heart and mind.

I’d give anything just to see him again, just to talk to him again.

[edenfenixblogs]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you. 💖 (gotta keep it going lol🩷)

LOL! Ok! I’ll do it again, because I have so much I’m grateful for. Anyone who sees this is welcome to participate

1. Getting to hug my sister today

2. A strong Old Fashioned with four cherries

3. Moments when you stop telling yourself to stop focusing on THE THING that is worrying you, because you have stopped worrying about it.

4. Bath bombs and scented candles

5. The fact that iPhone FINALLY lets you name group texts that contain non-iPhone users.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

With the end of season two comes a second redraw!

[Nov 2022] [June 2023] [June 2024]

[crescentfool]

me when rockagilly blues has a 25% chance of playing compared to literally every other song in the game

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

I can't imagine being Mrs Everdeen. But I do wish to try.

Imagine standing to the side roped off from your children and being unable to do anything as your youngest is reaped. Knowing she won't make it because she's too tenderhearted and too young. You know as her name is called, that she will die. And yet you can't change it. You just gets to watch as your child is slowly marched forward to her death.

Imagine the hopelessness she feels. Having braved the few years of Katniss's first reapings alone, and now having to endure Prims reaping and all the while wishing she had her husband by her side to help her get through it. But she's done it for the past four years with Katniss, so surely this one won't be as bad? Only it's worse. Because it's Prims first reaping. The chances of it even happening are so slim. Katniss made sure of that. And yet, it is, in fact, her name being called.

And you wait in silence as your gut sinks and your eyes close, and you take a second to remember your daughter before she's gone. You regret giving birth because all it's done is lead to here. You regret it, and you feel so resentful. And some part of you thinks this isn't the way it should be. Not her. Not Prim. She doesn't have what it takes to claw and strangle her way to the top. She's dead before she's started.

Your gut lunches and your heart beats too fast. You feel sick. Until you hear your other daughter. The one who has been your family's rock. Who's your rock, is now stepping forward to take her sisters place. You release a breath and part of you unclenches. Because even if you would never speak it, even if you would never want to think it, even as you think it and feel disgusted with yourself, you know that you would rather Katniss go in.

She could do it. She's done so much. For years she's taken care of a family. Kept them fed by skill alone. She's your daughter. You should tremble at the thought of her going in, and you do. But not as much as knowing it could have been Prim.

And all you can do is sit back, watch it happen feeling more than grateful. Knowing this child has saved you in more ways than you can count and how often you've failed her. Despite failing her again and again every day she still continues to provide and protect. She still takes the role of mother when you haven't.

As your sixteen year old daughter marches forward, you get to feel safe one last time, grateful to have this decision made for you.

[snezus-christ-risen]

Another way to look at it is that we've all been living a nightmare for the past 4 years and just fooled to believe otherwise for the longest time. Nothing has changed, and nothing will unless the collective finally decides we've had enough. However, most people aren't ready nor willing to believe that. Not to mention our money has been going towards the slaughtering of people in other countries for years and years, without a cent given back to us. Broken country, but the system is working as intended to. For the complex, NOT for the people. Many of us really don't know how lucky we are to have the problems we do. You'll wake up tomorrow, just as you did today, no threat of imminent life-ending danger looming, while citizens of other nations die, funded by OUR TAX MONEY. We all need to assess our privileges, even at the smallest level.

Thank you for the privilege check and perspective. It is outrageous that regardless of who won, our taxes would continue to fund wars and genocide. The Democratic party brought this on themselves by continuing to support genocide, refusing to listen to the people, and moving the party further right with every election, but of course the blame will be put on third party voters (despite the math not mathing). The USA is a fucking joke and I’m ashamed to be part of it.