#and in the credits you fight for good measure

[bangchxnnie]

how long will this last? (pt. 2)

pairing: felix and fem!reader

tropes: friends to enemies to lovers, idiots in love, brother’s best friend if you squint? , college!au?

content warnings: 3rd person writing, alcohol is mentioned, reader is nicknamed barbie, felix is stupid, cursing, orange cats, shitty writing, bin being bin, massive miscommunication, what can barely be considered angst, some suggestive elements (but as always, read at your own risk buddy!)

chapter word count: ≈4.7k

|| hlwtl masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

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“Did you eat my fucking pasta leftovers?” She groans, searching through the fridge. 

“You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up and ask what is off limits and what isn’t.” 

“You’re such a prick.” She slams the fridge shut and fights a full-on pout. 

My pasta…

“What bit your ass?” 

It takes a while to explain everything to her brother fully. With how busy his job has been, he’s barely popped in over the last few months. She’s be lying if she said it wasn’t good to see him, though. Scare or not. 

She keeps stopping to fight the residual anger, sadness, or the weird mix of both that comes whenever she says Felix’s name. To Chris’s credit, he does his best to sit and just listen. Until she gets to the part about Felix saying she’s not worth it. He laughs at that. 

“What’s so funny?”

“God, he’s so transparent.”

She looks at him in confusion. 

“Continue. Please.” 

BP, the little traitor, sits in Chris’s lap the whole time, purring contentedly at the constant affection.

Can’t trust none of these hoes. 

When she finishes, he sits in silence for a moment. 

“So it sounds like he’s jealous, dude.” He says simply. 

B immediately shakes her head in protest and waves him off for good measure. 

“No, he’s just a dick.” 

“That may be true too, and I do want to kick his ass, but he’s clearly and obviously jealous of you and Binnie.” 

“You’re clinically insane. There’s nothing to be jealous of!” Her irritation could not be more obvious. Folded arms, jaw tensed, eyes skyward. “He’s just an ass, and there’s nothing more to it.” 

“Are you really that oblivious? I mean, c’mon, I know I’m the brains of the family, but-“ She smacks him upside the head. “Ow! Don’t damage the goods!” 

“Then stop saying dumb shit!” Chris glares at her. 

“I’m not. Anyone with eyes and half a brain cell can see he’s into you. Like, well into you. And has been. It’s quite gross, actually.” Her heart rate picks up at his words. She doesn’t actually believe him, but it gives her butterflies all the same. 

She covers by raising an eyebrow at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. But think about it. He threw a fit that day because he came home and saw you flirting with Bin.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him! That’s gross. Bin was just being himself. He’s always like that. Felix knows this.”

“Doesn’t mean he likes it. Maybe he just snapped.” 

She doesn’t buy it. They’re grown-ass people.

If Felix really was that upset, why wouldn’t he just say something? He’s always been able to tell me when he’s bothered.

If it were that simple, why didn’t you tell Felix how you felt, either? 

…Even my brain is a traitorous traitor. Why are we defending him?

“Okay, fine. What about that day he lied about his laptop?” 

“Maybe he genuinely forgot he had it. Or maybe, that loud ass sound you heard was him at the door.” 

B doesn’t say anything. 

“You said he was in the hallway, right? Maybe he had come home, saw Bin and you doing…whatever the fuck you were doing, and left.” 

Surely she would have noticed if Felix had come in, right? She’s normally so observant. Or at least, she thought she was. It’s a lot of information to process. 

“I mean, really? What the hell were you doing?”

“Irrelevant. What do I do about it?” B reaches for her cat, still seated in Chris’s lap. BP hisses at her. 

Fucker.

“Talk to him, dude. Jesus Christ, I thought you were smarter than this.” Chris just sighs. 

“Thanks, dipshit. And how exactly do you expect me to do that when he ignores me at every turn?” 

“I can’t give you all the answers. Damn. You’ve got to do some of the work yourself. Now,” He gently sets BP down and stands to stretch. “I’d really like to get some sleep. Is the spare room clean?” 

B thinks she’s probably going to kill him before this week is over.

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“What about that one? He’s so cute!” Felix points to a nearby cage, cooing at the cat on the other side. 

“His sign literally says, ‘I Don’t Like People.’” B counters, shaking her head. 

Felix just smiles that goofy smile at her that she loves. “Which means you already have something in common!” 

Her mouth drops in semi-shock at his comment, and she half-heartedly nudges his arm. “I like you well enough!” The same arm wraps around him and she continues walking. “How about this one?” She points to a couple of cages over; a little paw sticking out between the tiny metal poles of the door. 

“I dunno…she seems a little small. So dainty. She’s got to be able to hold her own in your house.” Felix plays with her as much as he can through the barrier, even going so far as to make baby talk to her. B giggles, just watching him for a bit. He’s so gentle with everything; no wonder the littles flock to him at family events. “Whad’ya think, Beautiful? Do you wanna come home with us? Just say the word, and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Us. The way that one word makes B feel is more than dangerous. Floaty, warm, and fuzzy. After all, there is no us. Just her and Felix. As friends. Until the end of time. 

How miserable.

Felix jolts back when the cat swipes at him, catching his knuckle. “Ow! Fuck!” B blinks back to reality.

“Serves you right for calling her dainty.” 

Felix throws his free arm up in defeat. “Fair enough.”

 He steps into B’s space silently, suddenly laser-focused on reaching the top of her head. He gently moves a stray hair back into place, following it down to tuck it behind her ears. “Sorry, Gorgeous, it was standing up weird.” It’s all he offers in explanation. 

Not that she minds. But between the pet name and the touch, she’s sure her face is outing her in more ways than one. 

You’ve got to get it under control, girl! Get. A. Grip. 

Felix clears his throat, steps back, and offers his arm to her. “Shall we?” 

They interact with a few more cats, and every time Felix talks to the cats, it tugs at B’s heartstrings. She can’t help but watch the way his freckles crinkle when he smiles or how his eyes light up when any of the cats interact with him back. “How are you today, sweetheart?” or “Are you having a good day?” or B’s personal favorite, complete with baby voice-“I might have to just steal you for myself. Yeah, I think I do.” 

Eventually, they come across one that seems thoroughly uninterested in Felix. Felix tries to play with him, but he doesn’t budge. “Well, fine. Be like that then.” He pouts like a petulant toddler. 

“I think he’s just tired.” 

“Is he? He seems pretty indifferent toward me.” 

“Let me try.”

“Be my guest, gorgeous.”

B tries to coax him out from the corner of his enclosure. He slowly sits his head up and just stares at her. At least it’s more of a reaction than what he gave the man.

The cat approaches the cage leisurely like he has all the time in the world. Which, one supposes, he does. B drops her arm from Felix’s to get closer to the semi-curious cat, who lets Barbie pet him and seems content with just that. 

“I think he likes me? Maybe?” She searches the cage for his information card. 

Name: Bobby Pin 

Felix laughs. It compels another smile from B, much like anything else he does. “Bobby Pin? How do they come up with these names?” 

“I mean, my friend in grade school had a cat named Crayon. She tried to eat one as a kitten right after they got her. So there it was.” 

The way he listens so intently when she speaks makes her feel like anything she has to say is important. That she is important, it’s a feeling she cherishes more than he knows. 

Felix tries to reach for the cat again, seemingly feeling like he’s missing out. When the cat grumbles but lets him, both humans laugh. B decides that he’s the one.

She goes searching for a shelter employee. 

“Excuse me, we’d like to fill out an application for this one?” 

The memory pulses a pang in her chest that feels so wrong. It doesn’t seem right that just a few months ago, they were fine, and now, he’s saying shit like, “You’re not worth it”. It doesn’t make sense. Her conversation with Chris and the memory keeps her up until her eyelids can’t hold their own weight anymore. 

She manages an entire 36 hours almost completely people-free. She gets out of bed three times the first day. Once to use the bathroom, once to grab an obscene amount of snacks and dash back to bed, and a third time to grab the remote that fell underneath her bed. Other than that, she’s either sleeping, eating, or watching episodes of a show she’s seen a million times. It usually leads to another nap, honestly. The other days it's even less. Maybe twice, if that. Chris checks on her once a day to ensure she’s alive, asks if she wants him to stay (she says no), tells her to call if she needs him, and leaves. She doesn’t call, though. In fact, she turns her phone completely off to avoid everyone else. 

The fourth morning, however, another unwelcome visitor breaks into the apartment. He also has a key, but that’s beside the point. 

“B, are you home?” She’s already awake but would rather be sleeping off what feels like the beginning of a massive headache. Maybe it’s from all the crying. Maybe someone snuck in the middle of the night and poured alcohol down her throat. Maybe it’s from the yelling. She can’t be sure. The possibilities are endless, really. But what she is sure of is the fact that she doesn’t want to deal with Changbin. Not today.

Die. I want to crawl into a hole and make it my home like I’m some kind of mole. I could be a mole man. Mole-woman? Mole-person. 

She snaps her eyes shut and listens for his footsteps. She’s trying to gauge how far away he is since he says nothing else. She is unsuccessful.

“Well, you look awful.” 

Fuck.

“Go away.” She pulls the covers over her head and turns away from the door. 

“No, we’re not doing this sulking thing. C’mon.” He grabs BP from the foot of the bed and sets him on the floor. BP is unhappy about it, grumbling annoyed cat noises while he stretches and searches for a new sleep spot. 

“Oh, hush. You love me.” Bin argues with himself, it seems, because BP ignores him. 

He gently tugs at Barbie’s comforter. He’s trying to give her a chance to let it go. And when she doesn’t, he just snatches it from her hands and tosses it to the end of the bed. He sits on the edge and waits for her to sit up. She doesn’t. 

“Um, hello?! I have no pants on!” B protests, though she makes no effort to hide anything. Her sleep shirt is long enough that it covers everything anyway. 

“Oh, no! Legs! What’s a man to do?!” Bin faux gasps, clutching his hand to his chest. 

He deadpans seconds later. “C’mon, Barbie.” 

“If you say, let’s go party, I will kick you in the stomach.” 

Bin blinks at her. “Just get up!” 

“I don’t want to!” She thrashes around in protest, tears already threatening to expose themselves. “I’m in pain, I’m humiliated, I’ve been invaded, I’m-“ 

“Invaded?” Bin tilts his head, amused. 

She props herself up on her elbows. “Chris is here.” And just as quickly, drops herself back flat on the bed.

Bin mouths a silent oh. 

“Well, he can come too.” Changbin pats her leg and stands. 

“Where are we allegedly going?” Once again up on her elbows, B eyes him carefully. 

“The beach. Obviously.” 

An eyebrow raises. “In autumn?”

“Nobody said we were swimming. Now get up, and take a shower. You smell like sadness.” 

He finds his way to her tall dresser across the room and starts rummaging through it for appropriate clothing. 

She sighs in defeat, dragging herself up to a sitting position. A hefty yawn escapes her lips, and it dawns on her she has no idea what time of day it is.

“Wait, what time is it?” B searches for her phone, but it’s not in its usual spot on her nightstand. “And where’s my phone?” 

“7:30.” 

“AM?!” 

Bin waves her off as if it’s unimportant information. 

“You do realize this is an executable offense.” 

He turns his head to look at her, evil smile spread across his face. “Kill me and I’ll haunt you until your last breath.” 

It’s probably true. 

He tosses some clothes at her and points to the bathroom, exiting the bedroom in the same stride. “Shower. I’m gonna go wake your brother up.” 

“Best of luck, soldier.” 

She takes a deep breath, determined to face whatever the day throws her way. She quickly grabs the clothes thrown at her and heads to the bathroom. As she steps inside, a feeling of dread overcomes her. 

Why do I feel like this day is going to be a shitshow?

She closes her eyes and prays for the best. 

The shower is surprisingly refreshing. Once she finally convinced herself to get in, it’s hard to get out. A full wash can be quite draining most days, but the effort came with a little more ease once the warm stream also warmed the room. She leaves a little less dread-filled and a little more hungry.

After she gets dressed and styles herself to her liking, she heads to the spare room to see how successful Bin is at getting Chris up. He’s usually hard to rise since he doesn’t sleep much, either. 

She finds her brother and her friend..giggling. On the bed. Bin lightly punches Chris’s arm, and Chris falls into a full fit of laughter. 

She smiles, happy to see some of her favorite people so happy. “What’s so funny?” 

Their laughs settle, and Chris waves her off. “It’s nothing.” 

Bin agrees, lingering laughter escaping. “Don’t worry about it, Barbie.” 

She frowns, but doesn’t press. The uneasy feeling in her is growing, but doesn’t have the energy to have it out with them about it.

“Oh. Well, are we going to leave soon?” Her entire demeanor shifts.  

“Soon, we’re just waiting for one more arrival.” No one has time to address B's body language because as if on cue, the door shakes violently. The doorknob attempts to turn, but, of course, it’s locked. The door shakes again, and B sighs. 

“Why would you leave a brainless squirrel outside by himself?” 

Bin shrugs.

“I heard that!” It’s slightly muffled, but the hurt is still there. 

B unlocks the door and steps back, allowing Jisung to clamber inside. He almost crashes into Barbie with how aggressively he runs in. He’s breathing heavy, dramatically sets his hands on his knees to ‘catch his breath’. When he stands, he narrows his eyes at his friend.

“The door wouldn’t open.” 

B laughs. “Because it's locked, dumbass.” 

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“When it didn’t open?” She ruffles his hair. He swats her hand away and attempts to fix it, muttering something under his breath. 

Han Jisung is…a special friend. He can be incredibly intelligent, and very insightful, but it’s blanketed by a lack of common sense sometimes. Most times. He likes to say he’s too smart for his own good. There’s a sliver of truth to the statement. 

“Can we go now?” 

The beach itself is relatively uneventful. Bin packed a picnic kit and some chairs for the group to just sit and talk for a while. He even packed a book for B for when she’s burnt out socially. It’s a kind gesture, but B opts to just sit and listen to the waves, conversation as her background noise. Jisung chooses to sit with her in silence. Eventually, she lays her head on his shoulder. It’s the happiest she’s been all week. 

Nobody says anything to her until they start getting back to the car.

“You know, it’s okay to talk about it.” Chris says, pulling his seatbelt across his lap in the driver’s seat. “How you feel about it.” 

B shakes her head. “I don’t know how I feel.” 

“That’s fine too.” It’s the last he says on the subject. 

The rest of the boys pile in after closing the back of the car, resuming whatever new conversation they’d started on the walk back. B doesn’t really take in much of it. Until she heard something about her brother’s birthday.

“Oh, yeah! Have you finished everything for Saturday, Chris?” 

“Yeah, about that…” He cringes, like the words are paining him.

“What did you do.” 

“ThevenuecanceledandwehavenowhereelsetohostitsoIwashopingyouwouldletususetheapartment.” The words blur together, but she manages to get the gist. And she’s not happy about it.

“And how long have you known this, Christopher?” She stares him down through the rear view mirror. 

“Just since yesterday! I swear! I was just as mad as you are but I know that you love me and you’ll do me this major solid and I’ll owe you big time.” He flashes her his biggest smile, hoping it’ll seal the deal. The car is quiet, save for the radio, while she contemplates her answer. 

“…Yeah, you’ll owe me big time.” 

The whole car lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re the best!” Chris sing-songs. B flips him the bird, smile fighting at the corners of her lips. 

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Turns out, Chris has much more of his party planning shit together than anyone realises. The transition from venue to house party is relatively smooth over the next few days.. Hiding away the valuables and ultra breakables (nobody plans to get that wasted, but who knows), deep cleaning every room in the house, locking doors to off-limit rooms, the works. 

“Do you really not trust your friends that much?” Barbie questions. She’s washing up the rest of the dishes before she has zero energy left. 

“It’s not his friends he’s worried about, Barbie.” Seungmin joins in, spread comfortably across her couch.

“Oh, right. The New Year’s incident.” Jisung had gotten so drunk he’d gone up to every single person at the party and challenged them to an arm wrestle, and if they lost, he got to kiss them. He almost left with a broken arm. 

“We agreed we won't talk about that anymore.” Jisung gripes anytime somebody mentions it. 

“You agreed. With yourself.” B counters. 

Jisung, Changbin, and Chris all make weird eye contact with one another. It sets off that uneasy feeling in B’s stomach again. It’s so frustrating to feel out of the loop. Again. 

“What is this, some sort of weird intimate mindmeld? What aren’t you guys telling me?” 

They make eye contact again, and Bin clears his throat. 

“Um, Felix is, uh, coming to the party.” 

Her stomach drops at his name. Whether that’s from anger or something else is unknown. She hides her feelings behind a neutral face. 

“Oh. Well, I knew that. He and Chris have been friends for ages.” 

Nobody’s buying it. 

“Are you sure?” He speaks slowly; he’s scared to spook her. 

“Yes. Just because he can’t be civil doesn’t mean I can’t. Kill ‘em with kindness, yeah?” She shrugs and walks off to her room as casually as she can manage. 

She locks her door behind her and can feel a panic attack rising with every breath. She uses her grounding techniques to fight it off before it consumes her. 

Okay, I have exactly…16 hours to get my shit together. Oh shit. Chris was right. I just need to get through the night, and then I can sit his ass down and sort this shit out. His being into me is the only logical explanation for all his bullshit. It has to be. Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him when this is all over. 

She eventually hears a knocking sound in the back of her mind. It takes a few seconds to register that it is, in fact, a real knocking sound. 

“Hey, y’okay? We can tell him no if that’s what you want. Believe me, I have no issue doing that with how stupid he’s been acting lately.” 

She tries to laugh, but it comes out choked. It’s more air than sound. Some stray tears get eaten, which is weird because she didn’t even realize she was crying. She wipes her face and gets off the bed to unlock the door. 

She’s met on the other side of the door with Chris leaning on the doorframe, a sympathetic look adorning his face. 

“It’s okay, really. One night won’t kill me.” 

“I’d be a shit brother to let him around after all this.” 

“Good thing it’s not your call, then! It’s mine, and I say I want to move forward.” 

Chris nods. He knows when it’s the final straw for her, and she’s nearing it. He doesn’t bring it up again. She’s grateful for it. 

One more day and I’ll get my answers. 

….

….

She jolts awake, a scream echoing through her brain. Was it real? Was it in her head? 

She takes a moment to process her surroundings. The clock says 2:26 am. It’s dark. It’s cold. She realises 3 things:

She had a nightmare.

Felix is not here. She doesn’t know where he is. Thankfully? Unfortunately? Why do I wanna know where he is?

The scream was real, as noted by Chris and Changbin rushing to her room to see what had happened. My bad, bro. 

It takes a cup of tea, half a movie, and an extra body (Changbin) in her room to get her back to sleep. It’s in moments like this that she deeply appreciates the friends she has and the way they support her. 

When she wakes in normal operating hours, Changbin is still asleep in her bed. Granted, he’s somehow wrapped up in two blankets, and one of his legs is hanging off the bed, but he’s still there. She reaches across and attempts to unravel him because it must be hot like that, but all he does is grumble something that sounds like, “Get off my head,” and rolls toward the middle of the bed.

Can't say I didn’t try. 

B leaves him to his fate and gets herself ready for the day. 

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“Hi! Thank you for coming!” B greets guests happily, hugging and smiling as each person steps over the threshold of her apartment. She gestures to the nearest bedroom, offers them a place to drop their bag and coat, and tells them to enjoy themselves. It’s the same formula for nearly every person. 

While doing rounds, she spots a familiar face by the back door. 

“Look at you, all dressed up!” She wolf whistles at him, and Seungmin’s face reddens, but he brushes her off. Truthfully, it's just a button-up and pants, but he looks good anyway.

“I was told dress nice or die, so.” He does his best to keep a neutral face, but it’s obvious he’s in good spirits. 

“Well, you look very nice. Very handsome.” B teases, pinching at his cheek. She loves to mess with him like an older sister, and as much as he complains, B has a feeling he doesn’t mind one bit. To save face, however, he ducks away and wanders off to find his friend Jeongin. 

Chris is mingling happily as cohost, beer in hand, as he hugs or high-fives his friends who made it out here. Communicating the last-minute change was the hardest part, but they made it work. It's nice to see him relaxed. It doesn’t go unnoticed how he works himself into the ground at that studio of his. Hopefully, this week has been a nice break from that. 

A hand on her back makes her jump,and she gets immediately defensive. Have spins around, ready to say something about personal space, but it’s just Changbin. “My bad, my bad! I didn’t mean to scare you!” He looks…nice. Fitted polo shirt that shows off his arms (shocker) and neutral pants. It’s a good look when you add in the watch on his wrist. 

“Just wanted to tell you that you look cute, Barbie!” He continues, gesturing to the dress B picked for the evening. Black and simple. Hair and makeup to match. 

Elegant. Classy. Easy, breezy, beautiful, covergirl. 

She smiles. “It has pockets!” She dips her hands into the pockets and twirls the dress to show it off. 

“I’m thrilled for you and your pockets. Do you want a drink?” She takes him up on his offer, and he sets off on his mission. 

In the meantime, she checks up on supplies. Everything seems to be good. Something catches her attention back toward the entry, and B’s heart drops to her ass. 

In walks Felix. And he looks divine. Black turtleneck, black pants, he even dyed his hair. She swears time has stopped.

Holy shit. Just, holy shit.

She agreed with everyone earlier against greeting him for fear of a cold shoulder. She knows herself, and she won’t let it slide if he decides to show out today, and today is not the day for that. Tomorrow, definitely, but not today. Instead, she just watches him walk in and barely notices the person following behind him.

Binnie returns with her drink, and they watch Felix timidly approach Chris. They share a mildly awkward embrace. Another person is standing beside Felix, a woman who looks just as, if not more, uncomfortable by the situation. They can’t hear what’s being said, but they see Chris give Felix a weird look before turning his attention to the woman. Chris greets her politely, gestures to the kitchen, and makes eye contact with Bin across. 

It genuinely looks like he’s trying to say something telepathically, and Bin almost looks like he understands. 

Men. How fucking weird. 

Just like it’s weird that Bin steps behind her, semi-casually wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don't do anything crazy.” Is all he says. She’s so busy getting ready to question how much he’s had to drink and what the fuck he means that she doesn’t notice when Felix approaches. Felix clears his throat and stops an awkward distance away. 

She acknowledges him by meeting his eye but doesn’t break Bin’s hold. 

“Felix.” Bin doesn’t hide his ire. Apparently, things haven’t been as smooth as he’s been telling Barbie it has been. She makes a mental note to bring it up later. 

“Long time no see, huh?” He attempts a laugh, but it falls flat.

B scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

Bin squeezes her waist, a warning. She ‘accidentally’ steps on his foot in response.

“How are you?” He looks straight at B. He almost sounds…genuine. She contemplates giving him a real answer. Changbin answers before she can say anything-“We’re fine.” 

Felix goes silent. The moment stretches, long and very awkward. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable with each blink, and B prepares to just walk away before Bin decides to speak up. 

“Who’s your friend?” He gestures to the woman pretending to look around the room. Felix reaches for her hand, and she smiles, interlocking their fingers. She’s pretty. Like, really pretty. Between the two of them, B’s not exactly sure who she should be looking at. 

“This is my girlfriend, Aila.”

Changbin’s grip on ‘his’ girl tightens. 

I think I’m gonna throw up.

[goldengrecha]

Sometimes I'm just existing and then think about Maxie and Archie

Because you know Pokemon is quite a lot about People And Pokemon And Connection. This coexistence. How People is glad to be with their Pokemon, and Pokemon glad to be with People. How this is base of whole concept. Without this connection we wouldn't have everything we have. That's the base. That's the thing that nobody touches.

And then we have Maxie and Archie. One of them loves pokemon, and doesn't like people. One of them loves people, but don't like pokemon. They're basically go against this Base of Pokemon. (They're stupid ok)

This is something hitting me so much like holy shit like aaughhh so much symbolism and how the true power lays in connection between Pokemon and people and how the best ending for Maxie and Archie is to connect again to try to understand each other and make Connection

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Y’all ate this Hotch x BAU!reader imagine up 👀 Who am I to deny you more when asked so nicely? 🖤

Things remain strictly professional while the case is ongoing, your team and the Seattle division’s sole focus on catching the unsub. But once your resident bad guy gets his one way ticket to a life sentence, Aaron’s former colleague insists on celebrating over drinks…

“I can’t believe you completed the triathlon!” Agent Brandt exclaims with a laugh, her hand coming to rest on Aaron’s arm. From her spot in the booth opposite to you, JJ nudges your leg under the table. Your gaze cuts to hers, and you resist the urge to mime gagging yourself on your straw. Instead, you use it to suck up the last of your second mojito. There are a few appreciative titters around the table and Brandt soldiers on, “Who would’ve thought our nerdy prosecutor turned agent would do something so athletic?”

“Make no mistake, the nerd is still hiding underneath these muscles,” you chime in with a coy smile, the mix of jealousy and rum swimming in your veins giving you the push to overtly squeeze your husband’s bicep for good measure.

Aaron pointedly clears his throat and directs a frown towards Emily whose cellphone camera has made an appearance just over the lip of the table to no doubt document the scene unfolding for Penelope’s benefit. “All the credit goes to my partner here,” he says rather smoothly before draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Oh wow,” Brandt says through a tight-lipped smile, “you did it, too?”

“Sure did,” you respond cheerily while using your straw to swirl the mint leaves around the bottom of your empty glass. Aaron can hear the mischief building in your tone and he pinches your side half-heartedly in warning, but you quietly smack his hand away and continue, “Gotta stay in shape to fight off all the soccer moms vying for this guy’s attention at Jack’s games.” You allow yourself to relish in the flash of recognition in Brandt’s eyes before she slowly retracts her hand from your husband’s arm.

“Goodness,” she laughs and has the grace to blush at her earlier conduct. You feel a twinge of guilt until Aaron’s former colleague looks at him and says, “I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”

Derek covers up his laugh with a cough, and Emily mouths a delighted uh oh. Aaron turns to you with a silent plea in his eyes to let the comment go, but your lips are already twisting into a, “Me neither, babe.”

“She’s just teasing,” your husband is quick to soothe all parties’ ruffled feathers as his colleague’s blush grows a shade darker and she studiously avoids making eye contact with you. “We’ve been married for a few years now.”

“And what a wonderful few years it’s been seeing the two of you grow together,” the eldest member of your team adds with a sense of finality. You flash a grateful smile at Dave, and the conversation takes on a more lighthearted tone over the next and final round of drinks.

—————

On the jet back home the next day…

Your novel tumbling out of your hands and onto the floor of the jet has you jolting awake, and Aaron shoots upright in his seat across from you. A quick glance around reveals the rest of the team suspiciously engrossed in their respective activities- Derek’s listening to his post-case playlist, Spencer’s reading yet another book that’s above your pay grade, Emily and Dave are sharing sections of the New York Times, and JJ’s on her phone, likely texting Will- but the fact that no one so much as bats an eye at the startling noise tells you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand why you and your husband just can’t seem to stay awake on the early morning flight.

In answer to their unspoken question, you offer, “Didn’t sleep well last night,” by way of an explanation, fighting the blush threatening to creep across your guilty cheeks.

With a click of his teeth, Derek laughs out, “My man,” and Emily pipes up, “We’ll chalk it up to a hangover.”

“Behave, all of you,” Aaron counsels in an utterly non-threatening monotone, his voice still thick with sleep. He doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to scold them, just crosses his hands over his chest and settles back in his seat to get some much needed rest. The corner of his mouth ticks upward for the briefest of moments before his features fall back into their emotionless state.

You tap his ankle with your foot and one eye cracks open to find you smirking at him. “I saw that.”

“Get some sleep, Agent Y/L/N,” he orders in lieu of addressing being caught.

Tugging Aaron’s suit jacket higher up on your body, you dutifully close your eyes and hunker down under your makeshift blanket. Already drifting back off to sleep, you murmur, “That’s Agent Hotchner to you, mister.”

Aaron’s answering smile could rival the sun itself.

—————

[A/N: Idk if I like this 🙃 But then again, I go through these mental gymnastics every time I post my writing on here]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[roosterforme]

Stiff Competition | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: After visiting your bakery one time, Bob has a crush on you. The only problem is, so do all of the other guys.

Warnings: Fluff and some swears

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bob quietly followed his friends inside the trendy, new bakery that opened near base. He had become so accustomed to the bickering between Hangman and Rooster, he found it almost soothing, even early on a Monday morning.

"No way," Bradley said, shaking his head at Jake. "You're wrong, and now you're just being stubborn."

Jake sighed calmly. "I'm just saying, there's no way anyone, Fred included, would pick Velma over Daphne. It's unrealistic."

Bradley grunted in response. "Whatever. Smart girls are always hot."

Bob just cradled his forehead in his hand and let the rich smell of fresh coffee and baked goods wash over his senses. All three men in their khaki uniforms shuffled forward as the line moved.

"Holy shit," Bradley and Jake muttered softly and in perfect unison. 

"Do you see what I see?" Bradley asked, staring entranced at the sight before him.

"Oh hell yes, I do," Jake confirmed with a nod. 

Bob immediately looked in the direction they were staring, and his breath caught in his throat. All three of them were now eyeing you up where you stood behind the counter. You were smiling at one of the patrons and filling a pastry box with donuts. 

"She's kinda hot," Bradley whispered.

"Better than that. She's fucking gorgeous," Jake replied.

Bob silently agreed with them, noting the adorable smudge of flour on your cheek. He had always been a little shy, a little timid around women. And he was not about to get into a dick measuring contest with Bradley and Jake. He would just let the two of them fight it out, because Bob was never the one to get the stunning girl.

When it was their turn to order, Bob watched the other two men trip over each other to get to the counter first. You smiled at each of them in turn, your gaze lingering on Bob and making him blush. 

"Hi! What can I get for you fellas?" you asked the three of them, and Bob completely forgot what he was going to order. 

"Hey, gorgeous. What would you recommend?" Bradley asked in a deep and raspy voice as he leaned against the counter and peered at you over his aviators. 

You chuckled and shook your head. "I would recommend the citrus muffin with orange zest."

"Perfect, I'll get six of those," he said, his smile twitching below his mustache. "I'm Bradley, by the way."

"And I'm Jake! And I'll get a dozen muffins." Bob watched Jake flash you a megawatt smile, and he wished he could be half as charming. 

"A dozen muffins?" you asked Jake. Your eyes skimmed back over Bob's face with an amused glint in your eye. 

"Actually, I'll take two dozen," Bradley said, changing his order and glaring at Jake. 

"So you want a total of three dozen muffins?" you asked before turning toward the bakery case. "Okay.... seems excessive," you muttered. 

Bob watched you intently as you packed up bakery boxes of muffins and entered them into the register. You must have known what was going on here, but you just smiled at the three of them as you worked. 

"Anything for you?" you asked, flashing Bob a smile that made him feel a little nervous. "You're awfully quiet back there."

"Uh, just a small coffee, please," he muttered, getting out his wallet and trying to stay cool.

"One hundred and twenty eight dollars is your total," you announced, and Jake and Bradley both tried to get you to take their credit cards at the same time. 

"I've got it, I insist," Bradley said.

"Use my platinum card," Jake announced loudly.

"Use mine. His will definitely be declined," Bradley replied, trying to nudge Jake out of the way.

You carefully took one in each hand and said, "Um... I'm just going to split it between both cards. How does that sound?"

When the enormous quantity of muffins had been collected, and you handed Bob his coffee, he forced himself to meet your eyes. "Thank you, miss," he said softly, as your fingers grazed against his. "You have a lovely day."

Bob watched you bite your lip as he tucked five dollars into the tip jar and nodded his head at you.

"Thanks. See you soon, I hope," you called as he turned to leave. Bob glanced back one last time as he exited the bakery, and you were still looking at him.

------------------------------

On Tuesday at lunchtime, Bob was about to eat the sandwich he had packed, but Jake suggested going back to the bakery. 

"I hope she's working again today," Bradley said, grabbing his car keys. 

Jake nodded enthusiastically. "Hot little piece like that, she's gotta have a boyfriend."

Bradley snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time I've stolen a girl from another guy."

"What makes you think she'd pick you when I'm available?" Jake asked.

Bob just tuned them out until they all arrived at the bakery. He was hoping to see you again too, but he just wanted to listen to your voice and watch you smile. He'd let the other two do most of the talking. They were good at that sort of thing.

"Gorgeous," Bradley called you. "How've you been?"

"Fine," you replied, once again smiling at the three of them. "What can I get for you today? Another coffee for you?" you asked Bob, and he just nodded in reply. He didn't need more caffeine today, but he wanted you to hand him the cup again. He'd just give it to Phoenix when he got back on base. 

Bob listened to the other two men once again order more pastries than anyone could ever need, and this time Jake pulled a massive wad of cash out of his wallet and insisted on paying for everything. Bradley had a sour look on his face that he tried to hide when you smiled at him and handed him two bags of food. 

Then he stood to his full height, chest puffed out. "Thanks, gorgeous," Bradley said, sliding his aviators back into place. Bob watched Jake try to stand as tall as Bradley, failing and looking ridiculous in the process. Bob just closed in on himself a little more, trying to blend his tall frame into the background. 

"And your coffee," you said, handing the disposable cup to Bob with another beautiful smile. His hand shook when he accepted the cup, and a little bit of the beverage sloshed down the sleeve of his flight suit and splashed onto the counter.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Bob muttered, setting down the cup and reaching for the napkins. 

"No, it was my fault," you assured him. "I'll clean it up, you don't have to."

"Bob!" Jake called from the doorway. "What's the holdup, man? You coming?"

"Uh, I'll meet you at the car," he replied, mopping up the drink and drying his sleeve.

"Your name's Bob?" you asked him softly. 

He glanced up to meet your warm gaze and nodded once. "Yes. I'm Lieutenant Robert Floyd, but everyone calls me Bob," he said quietly. 

You smiled and told him your name. "Here you go, Bob. These are on the house. Sorry I spilled your coffee."

Bob took a small paper bag from you and picked up his coffee cup once more. "Oh, that's not necessary. It was my fault."

"I insist," you told him. "See you again soon?"

He looked down at his feet and smiled. "Yes. See you again soon."

"I can't wait."

---------------------------------

On Friday morning, Bob was a nervous wreck. He'd been thinking about you all week, but he knew the other guys had been, too. They had been talking about you a lot, but Bob was too shy to tell them he was also interested in you. 

He'd given the coffee to Phoenix the other day, but he smiled when he opened the bag and found a croissant. His favorite. It seemed like you knew. And it was flaky and perfect, and he couldn't wait to see you again and get another one. 

"Bakery time!" Bradley announced. "Time to visit the hottie. You coming, Bob?"

Bob fell into step behind him and Jake, but then Reuben and Javy were joining as well. "Everyone's coming today?" Bob asked, squeezing into Reuben's car along with the other four. 

"Yeah, can't wait to see this girl," Javy said. 

"Heard she's sexy," Reuben agreed. 

Bob just stared out the window and sighed. He was just going to have to get over his crush on you. It was the only way to keep his heart from breaking. He wouldn't look at you, and he wouldn't talk to you. And he definitely wouldn't eat another croissant. 

He shuffled into the bakery behind the others, and there you were. He tried to look at all of the baked goods in the case, but you greeted him by name. You greeted only him by name. 

"Hi," he managed, and the other four guys turned to glare at him. 

"Gorgeous, what would you recommend today?" Bradley asked you.

"Blueberry muffins are good today," you replied, and you started packing up a box full at Javy's request. 

"So, how long have you been working here?" Reuben asked, leaning so far across the counter, he may as well have just jumped over. 

"I'm the owner and primary baker," you told them, and Bob was so impressed. 

"Wow, gorgeous. Your muffins are really famous around here. We can't stop coming back for more," Bradley said, smirking at you. But you were looking at Bob again as he inched forward. 

"Did you make the croissant? It was very good," he told you, unable to look away. 

You beamed at him. "I did. They're my specialty."

Bob swallowed hard, all four guys looking at him in surprise now. "Could... uh, could I have another one? I'll pay for it this time though, if you don't mind. It was delicious."

"Of course, Bob. Anything you want." You turned to get a bag ready, and Bob thought he might faint. 

Jake turned and mouthed at him, "Anything you want?"

Bob just shrugged and made his way toward the register. He was pouring sweat in his flight suit, trying to stay as calm as possible. You met him at the other end of the counter and smiled as you slid a bag and a small coffee his way. 

"Three dollars," you told him softly, as if you could tell he was nervous, but you didn't seem to mind.

"What about the coffee?" he asked as he adjusted his glasses.

"On the house."

Bob quickly paid you for the croissant, as he could already hear Jake and the others getting restless. 

Jake leaned across the counter as you ran his credit card. "You interested in pilots?" he asked with a smirk. 

You just swiped the card and handed it back to him. "You're all pilots?" you asked, smiling at all of them. 

"Nah, Bob here is just a backseater," Reuben said loudly, slapping Bob on the back and nearly spilling his coffee.

"Oh, so Bob's the brains of the operation? Sounds about right," you said, sending a subtle wink in his direction. 

Bob's ears felt a little fuzzy and his collar felt a little too tight. Maybe he had imagined the wink. Yes, that must be it. 

The guys all hooted, and Jake said, "Well sure, Bob's smart and organized, but that's not as exciting."

You just shrugged. "Still sounds exciting to me. Hope you guys all have a safe flight this afternoon. Enjoy your croissant, Bob."

He floated out onto the sidewalk with the others, still in a daze. 

"What the fuck, guys? She likes Bob the best?" Javy said in disbelief as they all walked back to the car. "Hangman and Rooster, you two really dropped the ball."

"Does she?" Bob asked quietly. "She likes me?"

Reuben shoved half a muffin into his mouth and grinned. "You should ask her out, man." 

Bob thought about asking you out the whole drive back to base and as he walked to meet up with Phoenix. When he finally opened the bag to eat his croissant, he saw that you had put three inside. 

--------------------------

Late Saturday morning, Bob paced around outside of the bakery with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He'd peeked in through the window and saw that you and another girl were working, but he'd lost his nerve. He was on the verge of heading back to his car and calling it a day when the door opened, and he could smell the croissants. 

"You can do it," he told himself and rushed inside before he could turn around.

"Bob!" you called with a bright smile. "Back for more croissants?"

He took a deep breath and headed toward you. He noticed you were looking at the flowers in his hand, but you didn't say anything or rush him to respond, which he appreciated. You just smiled and leaned on the counter. 

"Yes, I would like another croissant," he muttered, and you pushed up from the counter to get it for him. "Actually, I would like two. But you need to let me pay for both of them today."

"Okay. Sure, Bob," you said with the tiniest smile as you put two into a bag. But now you didn't look as happy, and he wanted to kick himself. How had he messed this up already?

He met you at the register, and you asked him, "So, are the flowers for your wife? Or your girlfriend?"

"Oh, neither," he said, lifting them a little higher. "I don't have either of those."

You looked up at him and bit your lip. "Who's the extra croissant for?"

Bob watched your lips as you waited for him to answer. He was sweating, but he was in too deep to turn back now. "I, um... thought maybe we could eat them together. When you're done working. If you're not too busy."

Your smile lit up your face again. "I would like that."

Bob's smile matched your own. "You would?"

"Yeah," you told him with a nod. "You're so sweet. Much better than your friends. Are those flowers for me?"

Bob looked at the floor as he felt himself blushing. "Oh, yeah," he said, handing them to you. "Of course they are."

He watched you disappear into the kitchen for a minute, only to reappear without the flowers or your apron. Then you joined him on his side of the counter. Without any hesitation, you placed one hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

"Let's go for a walk," you told him, and Bob's heart was absolutely pounding for you. "I know a nice bench, perfect for eating croissants."

Bob felt you lace your fingers through his, and he held your hand in his larger one. "Lead the way."

-----------------------

This fic is for my Bobby loving friend Alex!!! @bradshawsbitch

Thanks to Alli @beyondthesefourwalls for giving this a read for me.

I hope I have done our Loverboy Bob justice!

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@mak-32

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@endofdays56

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@yanna-banana

[subskz]

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 01

note: this is part 1 of a series (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, strangers to friends to lovers, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, a bit of pining, kissing, slight suggestiveness but sfw (eventually nsfw)

summary: after the past three years you’ve had, whether or not you make it through the fourth all comes down to a single thread. fortunately, you find that thread, with chan on the other end. now, it’s just a matter of who needs it more—you, or him.

word count: 15.7k

By the time the spring semester of your senior year rolled around, you were coming apart at the seams.

It was subtle, not something anyone else would notice—you wouldn’t let them. Angling and maneuvering yourself so that it could never be visible to others was a skill that came all too naturally.

Still, you knew it wasn’t a question of if those seams would ever come completely loose, it was a question of when.

The past three years had been a near-constant fight to keep yourself afloat, with each one lining up to present a brand new, life-altering event tailored just for you. Two of which seemed like the end of the world, and one that truly was.

A heartbreak of your own volition. The loss of someone irreplaceable. Another heartbreak for good measure, also of your own volition. With the number of lessons the universe had packed in for you, you were certain that you’d be able to pass on to your next life without any problems.

Third time's the charm.

That was how the saying went, but for your own sake, you had to enter your final year of university stubbornly clinging to the hope that surely, fourth time would be the charm instead.

Incidentally, charm did come, in the form of Bang Christopher Chan.

It had begun with the most trivial of interactions. On the first day of your PHYS 408: Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics course, out of breath and—despite the cool February air—nearly working up a sweat from racing around the physics building like some kind of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed freshman, you’d made the very innocuous decision to take the first empty seat you could find. Near the back of the class, close to the door; the perfect spot for someone looking to get their credits in and clock out.

What you’d failed to notice until after you’d sat down, however, was the brooding statue of a boy occupying the chair right next to yours, resting his cheek on his hand and staring at the whiteboard with a look so fierce you would think it had personally wronged him somehow.

Seo Changbin. You’d seen him around more than once, having shared a handful of classes with him over the years, but never daring to approach him. You weren’t exactly someone you’d describe as faint of heart, but something about his muscular build and intense gaze, always made darker by the shadow of a cap, had you wary enough to keep a distance.

Not that it was difficult to steer clear of him, anyway, when he was the last to arrive and the first to leave as soon as each lecture hit its designated time limit—and that was if he’d even shown up to begin with.

You still remembered the first thing you’d noticed after settling down next to him, that being, that he was surprisingly much shorter than you’d initially thought. All those times you’d spotted him from afar, tapping along to the beat of his music or killing time in the activity center between classes, had given you the impression that he was as gifted in height as he was in muscle.

That didn’t change the fact that his intimidating presence more than made up for it, and you had taken great care to not veer into his personal space when you slipped your notebook and pencils out of your bag to prepare for what was sure to be a grueling learning experience.

The second thing you’d noticed about Changbin, was that he himself didn’t have a bag—or any kind of work materials, for that matter. There he sat on the first day of class, with nothing but a caseless Samsung S23 Ultra, a pair of headphones, and a ridiculously large bottle of what you’d assumed to be some kind of energy drink. It was almost impressive, in a way, how he hadn’t even tried to fool himself into thinking he’d be productive this semester.

You’d heard horror stories from your upperclassmen about this Thermodynamics professor. His strict grading criteria and endless list of hyper-specific rules were enough to make anyone with your degree plan dread taking his course; the most notable of said rules being that he prohibited any and all forms of technology in his classroom. It hadn’t taken long for him to single out every student who had dared to present even the tiniest flash of fiberglass around him, and Changbin was no exception.

In retrospect, it should’ve been inevitable to you that twenty minutes into the introductory lecture, he’d lean over and awkwardly ask you if he could borrow a pencil.

Wordlessly, you’d nodded and passed him a complimentary sheet of paper along with your pencil bag, allowing him to choose for himself. To your astonishment, he’d reached for your pink, Sanrio-themed mechanical pencil without a single moment of hesitation, whispering his thanks.

You’d never thought a smirk could be described as shy before you saw his. It was unexpected, coming from someone who looked like he bent iron bars for fun, but a welcome surprise regardless.

What had been even more surprising, was that this strange affinity for cuteness wasn’t a one time thing for him—not even close. With every passing Tuesday and Thursday morning you spent in his company, you soon came to discover that the Seo Changbin you’d created in your mind and the Seo Changbin existing before you were two very, very different people.

“You’re here!” he piped, loud enough to turn a few heads in his direction. “I saved you a seat.”

The flimsy, neglected notebook occupying your chair as some kind of placeholder was such a pitiful sight that you couldn’t help but snort.

“The seat I’ve sat in every day since our first class?” you hummed. “Thanks, Bin.”

“You’d better mean that,” he complained. “This place is lawless, someone might get bold one day and take your spot.”

“They’d beg me to take it back after five minutes of your nagging.” You passed his notebook back to him with a grin. It was hardly used and horribly undersized for a course as rigorous as this one, but you still considered it an improvement over the sorry state he’d been in when you first met.

You slipped into the familiar spot, unzipping your bag and preparing your study materials. “Shouldn’t I be the one surprised that you’re here, anyway?” you pointed out. “To what do we owe the honor of Seo Changbin having perfect attendance in an 8:00 a.m. class?”

“You know exactly what,” Changbin shuddered. Beneath the visor of his cap, you saw his eyes dart towards the podium, landing briefly on your demon of a professor. “Besides, senior year and all. It’d be pretty sad to take an extra semester just ‘cause I slacked off.”

You made a small noise of agreement. “So, fear and pressure,” you dropped your pencil bag dramatically on the table. “Now you sound like a real college student.”

Changbin perked up as he spotted the coveted flash of pink amidst your sea of pens and highlighters. “There she is,” he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thought I’d have to make it through this quiz without my lucky charm for a sec.”

“You keep calling it that,” you mused, fishing the pencil in question out from your pouch. “What makes it so special?”

Solemnly, he took it from your hand, curling his fingers around the pink plastic with all the grace and delicacy in the world. He gestured for you to lean in closer, as if preparing to share some deep, profound secret with you.

“It never runs out of lead.”

You nodded, putting on your best fascinated face. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d been the one refilling it.

“Plus, I’ve aced every quiz I’ve taken with it so far.” Changbin’s eyes gleamed as he continued. “It’ll get me through midterms for sure.”

You reached out mischievously, threatening to swipe it from his hands. “In that case, I might just use it for myself.”

“Don’t even joke about that!”

Though your mood was light, it still soured the slightest bit at the mention of grades. Of the three quizzes you’d taken so far this semester, Changbin had scored better than you on two of them. It was a silly thing to be bothered by. You knew by now that he wasn’t lacking in intelligence by any means, but you also knew that intelligence alone wasn’t enough when it came to this course—or astrophysics in general. Certain levels of discipline and hard work were just as essential to your success, and it was difficult to ignore the question of what you seemed to be missing in those departments, especially when Changbin came across as so carefree about his studies.

With the way everything else had been crumbling around you since you’d begun university, the last hope you could cling to was at least maintaining your GPA until graduation. It had been the one constant in your life, an oddly comforting escape that you could pour your focus into when all else failed. You couldn’t afford to slip up—to be anything less than exceptional—for even a moment, not when your field of study was so fiercely competitive.

“You’ve definitely been doing well for yourself,” you commented. “It can’t all be thanks to Cinnamoroll, can it?”

“Oh?” the corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk. “Is that your way of complimenting me?”

You rolled your eyes, immediately accepting that you wouldn’t get anywhere without buttering him up first.

“I just think it’s unfair to give my pencil all the credit instead of that genius mind of yours, that’s all.”

Your tone was far too sweet to be natural, and you were sure that Changbin could see right through it. Even if he did, he played along anyway, lifting his chin proudly and letting out a satisfied hum.

“It’s true, it’s true,” he boasted. “Keep going.”

“Beauty, brawn, and brains,” you marveled, throwing a hand over your heart to really sell the idea. “You’re living proof that a guy can have it all.”

It was hard to describe the strange, high-pitched sound he made in response. Whatever it was, it helped your efforts feel just a bit more justified. Changbin scrunched up his nose, suddenly at a loss for words, and you were once again reminded of how utterly laughable it was that just two months ago, you’d found him intimidating.

“Ah, seriously,” he cleared his throat, trying to recover from the momentary lapse in bravado. “Alright, I’ll be honest. I get a lot of help from my friend.”

Your interest piqued, and you inched a bit closer. “Your friend?”

He crossed his arms, looking contemplative, and for a second, you thought he might demand more compliments before going into any further detail.

“He’s a couple years older than us, but still studying. He used to be on the astrophysics track before switching to music composition senior year.”

Your eyes widened a bit, half-perplexed, half-impressed. Astrophysics to music. It was a bold change to say the least, not one you could ever imagine yourself making, especially if it’d been close enough to his graduation that he had to take extra semesters.

A lightbulb flickered to life in your head, effectively cutting off whatever you’d planned to say next. “Wait a minute, music composition? Don’t tell me—?”

Changbin clicked his tongue, that same, sheepish expression creeping its way right back onto his face.

“Yes.”

“The same guy you—?”

“Yes,” he repeated. “Chan. The same guy I make music with.”

No matter how hard you tried, you could never suppress your amusement when you remembered the deeply unserious name Changbin and his friends had chosen for themselves.

“So, he’s one third of the famed 3RACHA,” you said it with a bit too much glee, your smile only widening when he shushed you as if the word were some kind of bad omen.

“Why are you embarrassed? The stuff you’ve shown me is really good.”

“I know.” A genuine compliment amidst your teasing only seemed to fluster him further, and he averted his eyes with a grumble. “Ah, forget it. Can’t believe I was gonna be nice and ask if you wanted to study with us.”

You paused. It was easy to forget sometimes that Changbin could be more observant than he let on. Still, you wondered if your earlier shift in demeanor had really been that obvious.

A part of you, the more prideful part, wanted to dismiss his offer right away. It would be like admitting that you were struggling with the course—which, realistically, you knew was ridiculous to care about when every one of your peers was going through the same thing. If the average class scores that your professor so proudly made known were any indication, it’d be a miracle if you weren’t struggling.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, however, the dull, lifeless voice of Dr. Choi rang out through the room, signaling the beginning of the lecture. You put away your study materials begrudgingly, cursing yourself for becoming too immersed in your chat with Changbin to get any last-minute cramming in.

Changbin, on the other hand, looked relaxed as ever, tapping your pencil lazily against the tabletop while the quizzes were passed out. You braced yourself, mind racing with all the knowledge you’d accumulated over the past weeks as a copy of the deceptively short quiz was slid over to you. It was a mere three questions long, but you’d be lucky if you finished them all in the time given to you.

Your eyes landed on the first Gaussian Probability Distribution word problem, and your head went blank. That was all it took for you to lean over to Changbin and whisper.

“I might have to take you up on that.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Noon couldn’t come fast enough.

Your Thermodynamics quiz, not to mention the lecture that followed, had effectively drained your energy before the clock had even struck 9:00, with a full day of classes and assignments still lined up on the horizon.

As anticipated, you’d barely managed to complete the set of problems, even with all your preparation and practice. It could’ve gone much worse, but it was still enough to solidify your decision to join in on the study sessions Changbin had proposed.

He’d eagerly sorted out the details with you after class, planning to meet later this week at his and Chan’s apartment. It hadn't dawned on you until that moment that the latter of the two would probably be expecting some kind of payment for his tutoring services. After all, him helping Changbin out was one thing, but you were a complete stranger.

Changbin, however, had shut the possibility down as quickly as you’d brought it up. According to him, not only would Chan not ask you for any compensation, he’d outright refuse to accept it, even if you tried.

“The only thing Chan loves more than meeting people is helping them,” he’d told you, sounding so sure of himself that you were inclined to believe it.

Even so, it was a bit odd. A former astrophysics major, making a degree switch as drastic as music composition, and still being willing to revisit the same, headache-inducing subjects he’d so narrowly escaped, for free? The more you learned about this Chan character, the more you began to question what kind of person he really was.

Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you were, in fact, ravenous.

You picked up your pace, drawn in by the welcoming aromas wafting from the campus food court. The feeling of your cell phone vibrating against your thigh made your steps falter a bit, and before you even slipped it out of your pocket, you already had a good idea of who the caller might be.

“Hi, Iseul.”

“Where are you?” she sounded expectant and slightly annoyed, sending your brain on an urgent mission to recall if you’d somehow lost track of plans with her.

“In the student union?” you answered cautiously. “Why?”

You were met with a dramatic huff crackling through the phone speaker.

“I’m outside your place,” she said, as if it were obvious. “Please tell me you didn’t have lunch already. I picked some up for us.”

You blinked, thoroughly confused for what was neither the first nor the last time as to what this girl’s thought process could possibly look like. After two years of friendship, you could confidently say that you had no idea.

“Sorry, did you text me or something?” You pulled your phone away from your ear to open your messages.

“No,” came her reply, tinged with the slightest hint of defensiveness. “But is it so crazy for me to expect you to actually be at your apartment? Y’know, the place where you live?”

“At noon on a Tuesday? A little,” you said plainly. You chose not to bring up the fact that she had to be well aware of your schedule to organize this meeting the very instant your lunch break started.

Another huff. “Well, are you coming or not? There’s a million things I need to talk to you about and I don't know how much longer I can wait here before that security lady accuses me of loitering again.”

You checked the time. It was only a short, ten minute walk to your apartment complex, you could definitely make it before your next lecture.

“Alright, alright. I'm on my way.”

“You’re the best,” her tone changed so abruptly that you almost laughed out loud. “See you soon!”

The call ended before you could get your own goodbyes in. With how quickly she’d hung up, you’d think she had something else to do besides stand around waiting for you to arrive.

Regardless, you hardly felt irritated, well-acquainted with Iseul’s behavior by now.

Your friendship with her had blossomed by pure accident, even with some reluctance on your part. One too many times sophomore year, you’d encountered her in the computer lab at the same ungodly hour as you, battling an army of technical issues with no one around to solve them considering that even the lab assistants had long taken their leave for the night. The first two instances you’d spotted her, slamming her mouse against the desk and cursing violently at her monitor, you’d kept to yourself—albeit with a tinge of guilt—and focused on your own approaching deadlines. After the third time, however, you’d figured the universe was trying to tell you something, and decided to help her out before she rendered every piece of equipment in the lab unusable in her academia-induced fits of rage.

From there, she’d latched on to you in a heartbeat. After all, someone who could help with tasks as incomprehensible to her as troubleshooting Microsoft Excel was sure to be reliable in other areas. On top of that, her newfound interest in you had only doubled when she’d found out that you happened to be living in the newest phase of apartments on campus. Suddenly, she had made the executive decision that you were the best of friends, and that every waking moment of your free time should be spent together at your place.

You might have been offended by her comically transparent motives if you hadn’t discovered soon after that your floorplan was just a few square feet bigger than hers. What she probably wanted most, you’d figured, was a friend.

Your initial misgivings aside, you were grateful to have Iseul in your life. She was someone who could be kept at a safe distance. Not physically, (her constant barging into your space would never allow that) but emotionally. A bit too preoccupied with herself to ever delve into personal matters that you’d rather keep to yourself, but still considerate enough to care about you. At least, in the bare minimum of ways, which was really all you needed from her. She was convenient and comfortable, and you’d long found your rhythm with her despite many labeling her a pain to get along with.

As you began making your way out of the dining hall to meet her, the sight of someone entering from the far side of the building made your heart drop to your stomach.

You froze, suddenly rooted in your place, feet heavy as cinderblocks. It shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you. You were bound to see him again, eventually, whether on campus or through some other unfortunate crossing of paths later down the line. You’d known this and braced yourself for it, too.

Still, no amount of time would’ve ever been long enough.

A very specific type of dread crept up on you, one you hadn’t felt so intensely for almost a year now. But the way it filled up your chest and spread through your skin was all too familiar, like it had never left your system to begin with. Like the kind of person you were before was still inside you, lying dormant.

Resentment and remorse fought for their place in your mind. Somehow, they both felt unjustified. He didn’t deserve to be the target of those emotions, and you didn’t deserve to have them. He hadn’t done anything—that was exactly it: he hadn’t done anything.

You told yourself that you had no right to feel this way. But it didn’t change the fact that he embodied everything you wanted to forget about the past three years.

He hadn’t noticed you yet; at least, you hoped desperately that he hadn’t. You weren’t going to stick around until he did, either. You shook your head, as if to forcibly expel the thoughts before they took root in your brain, and spun on your heels, making your way towards the exit located as far away from him as possible.

In that moment, you were more grateful for Iseul’s impulsive tendencies than ever.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to warm them up, praying that the clouds would hold out until you and Changbin made it to his apartment. It was an unusually cold day by April’s standards, and the sharp winds and ominous gray sky promised a rain that was sure to be bone-chilling for whoever got caught in it.

“Right there,” Changbin pointed at the building you were approaching, finger landing in the direction of a balcony on its third floor. There was a soccer jersey for a team you didn’t recognize hanging off the railing, flapping in the wind so wildly that you were concerned it may fly away altogether. “See, the walk isn’t so bad, right?”

It had been nearly half an hour. Granted, the journey home took longer than expected thanks to Changbin, despite having lived in this complex for two years, still managing to lose his way somehow.

“I’m starting to understand why getting to class on time is so hard for you.”

“I told you, I’ve never taken this route before!” he objected. “I’m just not used to coming from the east side of campus.”

You relented, deciding you’d teased him enough along the way. “It’s alright, it was a bonding experience,” you gave him a playful smile. “I just hope Chan won’t mind that we’re late.”

Changbin waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry. He’s probably holed up in his room working right now. Doubt he even knows what time it is.”

It sounded like a dig at the older boy, but there was no hint of scorn in Changbin’s voice, just honest affection.

A strange feeling had been periodically bubbling up inside you all week, and at the mention of Chan, it made its presence known yet again. Whether curiosity or anxiety was at the root of it, you weren’t quite sure, but it grew stronger and stronger with each step you took up to their apartment. By the time you reached the third floor, you found it hard to focus on anything else.

Changbin fumbled with his keys for a moment before unlocking the door and swinging it open. You made note of the plated number on the wall next to you as he did. 8-325.

“Well, we made it in one piece,” he stepped to the side, inviting you in. You accepted with an appreciative nod, and as you slipped off your shoes, your eyes scanned over the living room and kitchen areas in front of you. They were surprisingly neat, with just a few stray socks and water bottles scattered here and there. Even the state of the kitchen sink wasn’t all that bad. No rotting food, no mountain of dishes, no overflowing trashcan.

“Wow,” you murmured, impressed. “It’s clean.”

Changbin snickered at that, as if he’d anticipated your exact reaction. “Minho raises hell if we let it get any worse than this.”

Minho. You’d almost forgotten about their other roommate. Like in the case of Chan, you hadn’t met him, but you’d heard a few things here and there from Changbin. He was a year older than you—a Computer Science major, if you remembered right—but still an undergraduate due to him taking a gap year after high school to work. You wondered if Changbin was some kind of magnet for these people, with his unique balance of childish antics and emotional maturity giving any upperclassmen he came into contact with no choice but to take him under their wing, even sticking around until he graduated like true, responsible older brothers.

“Chan!” Changbin’s voice rang out through the apartment, louder than you thought was probably necessary. “Chan! We’re here!”

There was no response for a minute or so, and just as you shrank back in preparation for another ear-splitting shout from Changbin, you registered the faint sound of a door opening down the hall.

“Coming!”

For some reason, you held your breath.

Shrouded in a mass of black, from his hoodie, to his pants, to the beanie on his head, out shuffled Chan.

He was just an inch or two taller than Changbin, but similarly to him, he had a strong presence. Maybe it was the way his clothes made him look like a walking void, or maybe it was the way he appeared so friendly in contrast to them. His eyes were gentle and his face was weary, but kind. He looked like someone who smiled a lot.

“Sorry,” he pulled his headphones down, letting them rest around his neck. “I lost track of time.”

Changbin gave you a knowing look, as if to remind you that he’d told you so. “It’s okay, I figured.” He conveniently left out the fact that you and him had arrived beyond schedule.

Chan turned to you, tired eyes finding you for the first time. You introduced yourself with a quick dip of your head, and he did the same. You thought it would end at that, but to your surprise, he reached out his hand, wiggling it around slightly to push back the oversized sleeve that had been covering his palm.

“Nice to meet you!” he chirped.

You took his hand, unable to stop yourself from flinching the instant your skin brushed against his.

He was warm. Unnaturally so.

It set off every last one of your nerve-endings, seared through your veins. You might’ve attributed it to his clothing, but all three of you were dressed in thicker attire given the weather. Surely, he had to be cooking up a ridiculous level of heat in that hoodie for his skin to be burning the way it was. On top of that, he didn’t look sweaty or flushed in the slightest. There was just a natural, rosy complexion to his cheeks (which, upon second look, you noted were quite soft in comparison to the rest of his masculine features).

You blinked, realizing with a start how long you’d gone without returning Chan’s greeting.

Changbin bumped his shoulder against yours, and you cringed inwardly. That had to be some kind of record for how fast a first impression could crumble.

“Nice to meet you, too.” you tried to quell the awkwardness, but the way you pulled back all too quickly only seemed to make things worse.

Chan eyed you for a split second longer, his stare flickering down to your hand so briefly that you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it. He flexed his fingers once, then the look of concern on his face morphed into a polite smile.

It was an unfortunate moment for you to notice that he had dimples.

“Is it too toasty in here?” He angled his head towards the thermostat. “I can change it if you’re uncomfortable!”

Just a minute ago, you would’ve told him that you were fine. You’d been perfectly content with your body temperature up until you’d come into contact with the human furnace that was Bang Chan.

You had half a mind to question if he was the uncomfortable one, with all the heat that was practically radiating off of him, but Changbin spoke up first.

“Have you been outside today?” He shivered. “Trust me, this is perfect.”

At that, he strolled over to the kitchen table and plopped down his belongings, looking more prepared to learn than you had ever seen him in class. Chan's smile didn’t waver despite the fact that he obviously hadn’t been asking for Changbin’s opinion, and he exchanged a glance with you, as if you were old pals rolling your eyes over a mutual friend.

You smiled back at him, determined to let this guy believe that you were, in fact, capable of understanding social cues.

“I'm gonna grab my old notes,” he informed you. “Make yourself at home!”

You thanked him quietly, making your way over to the table and joining Changbin in the seat closest to him. As soon as Chan was out of earshot, he nudged you curiously.

“What was that?”

You put on your best neutral front. “What?”

Changbin squinted, eyeing you up and down. “You were acting weird.”

You considered playing dumb, but quickly decided against it. Knowing him, he wouldn’t stop pestering you until you gave him the answer he wanted.

“He was hot,” you shrugged.

“He was what!?”

You tensed up. “No, no, not like that. I mean he was hot, like, physically.”

His mouth hung open, and you weren’t sure what to be more annoyed with: your abysmal choice in words, or his seemingly deliberate misunderstanding of you.

“He felt hot,” you clarified. “Like, his skin. That's all.”

The explanation only seemed to tickle Changbin further, and you elbowed his side irritably, trying to shush his delighted cackles.

“Okay, so, you weren’t acting weird. You just are weird.”

“I'm serious!” you protested.

“He's not better looking than me, is he?” he continued dramatically. “You didn’t do anything like that when we first met.”

You exhaled, composing yourself before you grew defensive over something so ridiculous. “Because your hand didn’t feel like the surface of the sun.”

Changbin nodded solemnly as if he understood, but the look on his face was still completely unconvinced. “Yeah, yeah,” he clicked his tongue. “Just don’t go falling in love with him, alright?”

You snorted, not bothering to dignify him with a response.

That was the last thing you needed—the last thing you wanted, even. To spend another few years building something that you could already predict the demise of. Another few years constructing a tower that you would never even get to see completed, let alone make a home in. Because it was sure to crumble; that was the only thing it could do when its foundation was never fit to support anything to begin with.

The sound of Chan’s approaching footsteps snapped you out of your unpleasant thoughts. He'd taken longer to return than you’d expected, and you could only pray that he hadn’t overheard your conversation with Changbin. He did seem like the type, after all. To pretend like he was still in the other room so that you could be spared the embarrassment of getting caught in the middle of a conversation about him.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

Two notebooks, a laptop, and the colossal textbook required for PHYS 408: Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics—co-written by Dr. Choi himself, of course—were all dropped on the table before you. You felt a glimmer of hope. Chan seemed to be serious about helping out, so much that you wondered if this arrangement truly could be the extra boost you needed to finish the semester with an A.

He settled into the chair opposite you and Changbin. “So, next up is the midterm, yeah? I guess we should start from the beginning.”

“Inexact differentials, please,” Changbin requested. “I still don’t get them.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in amusement. “Since when are you so ready to study?”

“Since we got our new recruit,” he leaned back in his chair. “There’s less pressure on me now that your wrath is split between us.”

You let a soft chuckle slip at that, trying to imagine what it might take to anger someone who appeared as good-natured as Chan. Said boy cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I swear, I’m not that harsh.”

You nodded, fully aware of Changbin’s talent for exaggeration. “I don’t think anything can scare me after Dr. Choi, anyway.”

“That’s true,” he giggled. For how charming it was, it didn’t last nearly long enough.

You pulled your eyes away before landing yourself in another incriminating situation.

“Alright, inexact differentials it is.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Forty-five minutes into your first study session, you’d come to make two very important realizations about Bang Chan.

The first, being, that he wasn’t exactly the best at explaining things.

He’d typically start on the right track, but it wasn’t long before he’d veer off on tangent upon tangent, tacking on more and more information until it became a full-blown ramble, all loosely connected with a series of “um”s and “y’know”s before being clumsily wrapped up with a final “so…uh, yeah!”

You didn’t hold it against him. He was clearly a smart guy, and you knew firsthand what a nightmare these topics could be to teach to other people, especially taking into account that it had been two years since he’d learned them. Even with his less than articulate methods, you still found yourself grasping concepts exponentially better than you ever did in your thermodynamics lecture, and that was because Chan seemed to be gifted with what you could only assume was an endless supply of patience. He’d repeat himself as many times as deemed necessary, perfectly content with rereading his notes, checking the textbook, and even searching things up online until he was certain that both you and Changbin had understood.

The second realization you’d come to, was that your concerns about whether or not you might get to hear more of his laughter had quickly been put to rest.

He giggled at everything. At you, at Changbin, at himself. Sometimes, he giggled at nothing at all, just to fill the silence. It was admittedly fascinating to see the way his face would change, from the stern expression he wore when offering guidance, to the sheepish smile that’d appear when he stumbled over his words.

After hearing his laughter for the better part of an hour, infectious and melodic and, occasionally, ending with the faintest squeak, you still hadn’t gotten sick of it. Though, you did find yourself thinking that he had to be either an extremely self-conscious person, or an extremely giddy one for giggling to come as naturally to him as breathing.

“Does that make sense?” Chan tilted his head. “Let me know if you wanna go over it again!”

“I think I got it,” you smiled.

In truth, you didn’t, but it was a matter of dignity at this point. Enthalpy was one of the most basic properties you needed to know in order to build on concepts infinitely more complicated than it, and if you held up the review any longer to focus on something so mundane, you may not be able to show your face around this guy ever again.

It didn’t help that somewhere along the line, the looming clouds outside had broken at last, bringing about the downpour that you’d anticipated all day. Each explosive clap of thunder chipped away at your focus more and more, making you prone to stupid, easily avoidable mistakes that frustrated you to no end.

You thought your answer had been convincing, even making sure to look him in the eye when you’d said it, but Chan still didn’t let up.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“Oh my God,” Changbin’s voice turned up in a whine, his earlier enthusiasm nowhere to be found. “If you explain this one more time I’m seriously gonna go crazy.”

Before Chan could respond, the sound of keys jingling amidst the steady patter of rain caught everyone’s attention. You turned your head just in time to see the door creak open, letting in a violent gust of wind, and, with it, the lean figure of a stranger.

He was soaked. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, clothes hanging off of him like heavy drapes, and sneakers forming small puddles on the wooden floor.

“It’s raining,” he announced.

Changbin broke out into a fit of laughter, and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from doing the same. Chan, though clearly on the verge of losing it as well, still rose from his chair like a reflex and grabbed a hand towel from the kitchen. He tossed it to the other boy, who you could only guess was Minho.

“I was starting to wonder where you were,” Chan remarked, voice shaking with barely contained glee.

“I got sick of waiting for the rain to stop, so I made a run for it.” Minho dumped the water out of his shoes and shut the door in disgust. “Then I remembered why I don’t run.”

The small towel didn’t do much for his drenched state, and after a few moments of shaking it haphazardly in his hair, he gave up and let it rest around his neck instead.

“You should shower and dry off,” Chan told him. “You’ll catch another cold.”

Minho grunted in acknowledgement, but rather than following through, he strolled over to the kitchen. As he did, his gaze landed on you for the first time, giving you a clear view of his face.

Every striking feature of his was balanced out with a soft counterpart. Sharp, intense eyes with puffy bags underneath, a sharp, prominent nose between full cheeks, and sharp, catlike lips above a round chin. It was a delicate combination that not only made him attractive, but interesting to look at, as well.

He studied you for a moment too long, just enough to spark a sense of unease inside you.

“That’s no good, Changbin,” he clicked his tongue at last. “Don’t tell me you’re such a hopeless case that Chan had to find you a second tutor.”

“It’s a study group!” Changbin cried indignantly. “And what the hell kind of introduction is that? Say hi!”

The corner of Minho’s mouth curved into a smirk, like it was made to do exactly that. Similar to Changbin’s, it wasn’t sultry, but unlike Changbin’s, it wasn't shy. It was mischievous and playful, like that of a child’s cheeky grin.

His attention shifted back to you, and he gave you a proper greeting. It was surprisingly polite, all things considered, even ending with a short bow.

He popped open the refrigerator door, leaning forward in a way that had to be uncomfortably cold given that he was still dripping wet.

“I had a few pudding cups left in here. At least two,” he called out.

“Wasn’t me,” Chan piped with the speed of someone who was accustomed to being the first suspect.

Minho pulled his head out from behind the door, accusatory glare locking right on Changbin.

The boy shifted guiltily next to you, unable to hold eye contact with Minho for longer than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Minho shut the fridge with a hum. “That’s alright.” His voice was breezy and sweet, a complete contrast to what came out of his mouth next. “Just sleep with your door locked until you buy me new ones.”

“Hey,” Changbin whined. “That’s scary.”

He tugged at your arm as if expecting you to rush to his defense, and you settled for giving him a comforting pat on the back, not nearly familiar enough with Minho to joke around with him like that. Given how Chan was watching in amusement, you figured this was a regular occurrence for them, anyway.

Following Minho’s arrival, your review session more or less fell apart. The idle chit chat eventually led into a full on conversation, and when Changbin shut his textbook with a luxurious stretch, you knew there was no chance of getting him to open it again.

You didn’t mind, really. The three of you had covered a lot of ground in the time you’d spent studying, and you were already worlds more confident about the upcoming exam. Your main concern, now, was how you were going to get home. It was well past sunset, and the thick sheet of clouds had darkened the night more so than usual, not allowing even a single drop of moonlight to break through. That, coupled with the fact that it was still very much pouring outside, complicated your plans a bit.

Sitting there as the odd one out among the group of friends, you couldn’t help but feel like you were overstaying your welcome, but any attempts you made at suggesting that you brave the storm and head home were emphatically shut down.

“It’s okay,” you tried to convince them. “I really should get back and have dinner.”

“Have dinner with us!” Changbin didn’t miss a beat.

You hesitated, uncertain as to whether it would be more rude to accept or decline.

“It doesn’t look like the rain’s gonna stop anytime soon,” Chan reasoned. “Why don’t we eat first?”

Minho, in vengeance of his fallen pudding cups, loudly declared that he wouldn’t be cooking dinner for anyone. It became clear to you in that moment that he was probably the only thing standing between his roommates and malnutrition, because their go-to second option (if not their only other option) was instant ramyeon.

So, there the four of you sat, crammed together on their living room couch, watching some obscure superhero movie that Changbin seemed to know every line of, and slurping away at your noodles.

They had turned out tasty enough, with the extra spices and sauces you’d added to make the flavor a bit more appealing, but with the way Chan scarfed down his share, you might’ve thought it was the best meal he’d ever had. He was all satisfied noises and delighted fist shakes, looking happier eating instant cup noodles than you’d seen some people look their entire lives.

He was cute, you decided.

Though the movie lessened some of the pressure you felt to socialize, a faint air of awkwardness still lingered around you, only ever really ebbing when you and Changbin would interact in between his passionate lore discussions with Chan and his bickering with Minho.

Chan seemed to sense early on that you weren’t fully relaxed with the atmosphere; at least, you assumed as much judging by his periodic efforts to pull you back into the conversation.

“Everything good?” he’d asked at one point, leaning over so you could hear his whisper above the movie.

Even with Changbin serving as a buffer between you two, his persistent warmth still found you.

“Oh, yeah.”

Not your most eloquent response. To be fair, you hadn’t anticipated his question. It didn’t seem to have convinced him, but he’d given you a smile, anyway.

“Alright. Just know that you’re more than welcome here, yeah?”

You were grateful for his kindness, but at the same time, it had caught you off guard. It wasn’t a regular thing for you, being read with such ease by someone you hardly knew, and you couldn’t decide if you were just being uncharacteristically transparent that day, or if Chan was too perceptive for his own good.

Changbin was Changbin. That in itself helped you loosen up a bit, as well. He behaved in virtually the exact same way around the older boys as he did with you—albeit, leaning more into his childish side—and it filled your chest with a pleasant sort of relief. He considered you a friend; close enough to treat you with the same intimacy that he treated people he’d known for years.

Minho, on the other hand, was more of an enigma. Not rude by any means, but not overly accommodating, either. The one thing you were certain of was that he was incredibly funny. Witty, too. He didn’t speak as much as Chan or Changbin, but when he did, it was always something memorable. His voice had a playful lilt to it that never seemed to go away, like nothing he said was meant to be taken too seriously.

As the night continued and the four of you had all eaten your fill—or, several fills in Chan’s case—your reservations slowly but surely melted away. You spoke more naturally, joked with Changbin the way you always did when you were together, and even found yourself comfortable enough to make a few snarky comments about the film’s ridiculous plot and cringeworthy special effects, to which Changbin took great offense and Minho had let out a few laughs.

As for Chan’s laughter, another few hours of it still hadn't made it any less endearing. In fact, the more you heard it, the more hooked on it you became.

By the time the storm had passed and you could finally head home safely, you found yourself a bit wistful that your impromptu gathering had come to an end.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

“So,” Iseul’s eyes twinkled. “What’s the verdict? Is he cute?”

Straight to the point. It was something you liked about her, usually, but in this scenario, you almost wished she’d never asked.

Ever since that day, you’d felt an inexplicable sense of…well, you didn’t quite know what it was. Discomfort, unease, foreboding; they were all too extreme to describe the feeling. All you knew was that something peculiar stirred inside you whenever you thought back to Chan. Maybe it was because of your clumsy first interaction, or maybe it was because of that nagging, uncanny belief that he could see right through you from the very first moment you met.

It was unfair, in a way, because you knew for a fact that he’d been nothing but friendly every time you’d hung out with him—a delight to be around, really. You could easily see why he was the social butterfly that Changbin made him out to be.

“Hello?” Iseul complained. “I'm not gonna stop asking, even if you ignore me.”

In retrospect, telling her about your new study routine with Changbin and his mystery friend—however offhanded it had seemed at the time—probably wasn’t your smartest move.

“Yeah. Really cute, actually.”

You may as well have told her that he’d asked for her hand in marriage with the squeal she let out. “I knew it, I knew it! Tell me everything.” She nearly knocked her drink over in her rush to scoot closer to you.

It was hard to keep a straight face. Even when you knew it was short-lived, her enthusiasm over the simplest of things was contagious.

“What’s there to tell?” you feigned nonchalance in a way that was sure to annoy her. “I go to him and Bin’s place, we study, I leave.”

“Come on,” Iseul pouted. “There has to be more to it than that. What’s he like? Do you have a picture?”

“A picture?” you echoed incredulously. “You take a commemorative selfie every time you study thermo?”

“Like, his Instagram or something!”

“He has three posts, and none are of his face.”

Iseul deflated at that, and you broke out into proud chuckles. You were being difficult, sure, but the part about his profile was at least true. A picture of his hand holding up a peace sign at the beach, a picture of what you assumed to be his dog back home, and a surprisingly clear shot of the moon; those were the three precious images Bang Chan had felt compelled to share with the world, with the most recent one being from almost two years ago.

“He’s got a nice smile,” you offered.

Iseul took the bait instantly, perking back up. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Dimples, too.”

“Cute.” She clasped her hands together, looking lost in a dream. “That’s it, I have to see him.”

“What’s got you so interested, anyway?” you mused. “Aren’t you talking to someone?”

With the way her face dropped right back into a grimace, you knew you’d touched on a sore subject. “No,” she said curtly. “I mean, am I? Does it count as talking when you’re lucky to get a reply every six hours?”

“You’re just clingy,” you teased, already bracing yourself for when her hand flew out to swipe at you.

“I’m totally low maintenance!” she cried. “Anyway, I don't even want Chan for me. This is about you.”

You shifted in your spot, that same, strange feeling twisting in your stomach, stronger this time.

“Me? What do you mean?”

Iseul put her chopsticks to the side, giving you a look that was far too serious given the topic.

“I’m finding you a boytoy.”

You nearly laughed out loud, only stopping yourself in the nick of time when you caught that she wasn’t joking in the slightest. 

“No, you’re not.”

“I am!” she insisted, bravely holding her ground in the face of your disbelief. “What are you gonna do when I settle down and don’t have time for you anymore? I gotta make sure you have someone to entertain yourself with!”

Your amusement wavered just a bit. You knew she meant well, but when it came to Iseul—or anyone, for that matter—trying to do things for your sake, you’d long accepted that you’d prefer if they didn’t even bother. 

“There’s no rush,” you pointed out. “You have to actually get a text back before you can settle down, right?”

“Oh my God! I'm trying to help you and this is the thanks I get?”

“Thanks, Iseul.” You reached out to give her an apologetic pat. “But I don’t need any help with that.”

Suddenly, her lips curved into a devious smirk, and you had a sneaking suspicion that she’d misunderstood what you meant.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” she drawled. “Never forgetting that dreamboat you had following you around like a lost puppy all sophomore year. What was his name again—?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you cut her off a bit too harshly, regretting it as soon as you did.

Iseul frowned. “It was just a question.”

“You’re right, sorry.”

“What ever happened to him, anyways?” she continued, apparently not taking the hint. “Things ended so suddenly with you two.”

You tried not to bristle. After your near-encounter in the dining hall the other week, he’d been occupying your thoughts far too often for your liking. That, coupled with those peculiar feelings that had sparked within you upon meeting Chan, had you unreasonably on edge ever since. 

“I told you,” you tried to sound casual. “It just wasn’t a good match. I don’t think he really liked me all that much.”

Iseul scoffed, not buying it for a second. “Please, he was obsessed with you.”

The urge to tell her everything right then and there was more tempting than ever. To unload all the bitterness, the guilt that had been building up and weighing you down for the better part of two years now. You knew you couldn’t, though, not when it meant having to break the very same news to her that had led to the end of your relationship. The chances of her reacting the same way that he had were slim, but even the smallest possibility was more than enough reason for you to stay quiet. You’d kept it tucked away for far too long now, anyway. She’d only get upset if she found out now.

“Obsession isn’t the same as love.”

Iseul grew quiet for a moment.

“I guess,” she mumbled.

She turned her attention back to her soda, as if the conversation had suddenly become too heavy for her tastes.

You didn’t blame her, but it further solidified your decision to leave what you’d wanted to say buried in your heart.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Several doses of caffeine were in order.

Anyone who happened to witness the unfortunate sight of you and Changbin stumbling out of Room 118 of the physics building, spiritually battered and bruised and barely able to process your surroundings, might’ve thought you’d just gone to war.

It wasn’t much of a stretch, considering the exam you’d just taken. You felt ridiculous for ever thinking the two hour time slot was overkill; in actuality, it had been a rare display of mercy from Dr. Choi.

“I’m dropping out,” Changbin declared.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll do it,” he insisted. “Before I lose my mind for real.”

He slumped heavily against you, and it took all your strength to support his muscular body so that the both of you wouldn’t be sent toppling to the floor.

“After everything Chan’s done for you? You might just break his heart.”

Changbin seemed to take your joke a bit too seriously, a horrified look crossing his face. “Can you imagine how that would’ve gone without his help?”

“Don’t even wanna think about it,” you shuddered.

For how excruciating the thermodynamics midterm had been, it was more because of the psychological torture aspect than the difficulty of the content itself—though, its difficulty was nothing to sneeze at, either. The one positive that had come from this hellish experience was confirmation that choosing to study with Chan had undoubtedly been the right choice for you. Every topic you’d managed to review over the few meetings you’d had so far stayed fresh in your mind during the exam, so vividly that you could even recall the inflections in Chan’s voice whenever he’d sing his sentences at random. You weren’t sure if it was intentional, or if it was even something he was aware that he did, but you’d caught on to it right away.

Because his melodies helped you remember better, of course, not because you found it endearing.

“We really need to thank him,” Changbin bumped his head against yours. “Let’s bake him a cake.”

“You can’t even crack an egg.”

“Who told you that!?” he bolted upright, miraculously regaining his energy.

You kept your lips sealed, but it didn’t take long for him to narrow down the suspects.

“Minho…” he muttered. “Who the hell shares that story with someone they just met?”

“I agree that we should do something for Chan, though,” you tried to stay on topic before Changbin could get riled up about Minho. He was already sour on him after he’d bought replacement pudding cups as threatened, only to smugly be told that they were the wrong brand.

“I’ll think of something when my brain isn't fried.” Changbin shoved his hands in his pockets, looking contemplative for a second. “You never answered my question, y’know.”

“Hm?”

“About him being better looking than me.”

His words caught you so off guard that you actually stopped in your tracks, turning to give him a look of pure disbelief.

“Seo Changbin,” you said plainly. “You can’t be serious.”

“What?” his tone grew defensive. “This is important stuff! You’re supposed to be around the same level of attractiveness as your friends. It’s scientifically proven.”

You so badly wanted to hold your unimpressed stare, but it was impossible when the man in front of you was speaking without an ounce of shame.

“First of all,” you began. “I've told you a million times that it had nothing to do with his appearance.”

It was Changbin's turn to look unimpressed, but he waited for you to finish.

“Second of all, you’re a very handsome guy, Binnie,” you tacked on the nickname for maximum effectiveness. “So if I were to fall in love with anyone, it’d obviously be you.”

You truly meant the compliment, but a little extra flattery never hurt when it came to him. A wide, embarrassed smile spread across his face like clockwork, and he reached out to smack your shoulder, giggling at an unnaturally high pitch.

“Geez, don’t say it like that,” he complained. “I wasn't ready.”

You shook your head. “You’re so simple.”

For both Changbin’s peace of mind and your own, you hoped now that the issue would be dropped. You had enough confusing feelings about Chan already without Iseul and Changbin blowing things completely out of proportion.

“Wanna get some coffee?” you suggested. “There’s a really good kiosk on the first floor of the library.”

“I think I’m gonna head home and nap, actually. I’ve got another exam tonight.”

You let out a sympathetic hum. “That’s rough. Good luck, Bin.”

“Thanks,” he sighed dramatically. “Treat me for all my hard work once midterms are over.”

“Sure, I’ll even save up so I can afford your rich kid tastes.”

Changbin grinned at that. “On second thought,” he pulled his hand out of his coat pocket to reveal your pencil; his lucky charm. “You’ve given me more than enough.”

He attempted to pass it back to you, but you nudged his hand away gently.

“Keep it. Maybe it’ll help with your next exam.”

From there, you and Changbin said your goodbyes for the day. You decided to head to the coffee shop on your own, in desperate need of some kind of energy boost so you wouldn’t crash the instant you returned to your apartment.

As you made your way over to the campus library, your mind drifted back to Chan. It seemed to do that a lot, recently.

You wanted to do something to express your gratitude to him, but it was difficult to decide on what when you knew so little about the guy. Changbin could always help in that department, of course, but then there was the issue of actually getting Chan to accept it.

Despite not having walked nearly long enough to work up a sweat, you felt strangely heated when you approached the library entrance. Not only that, your hands were clammy, and you had to wipe your palm on your clothes before reaching out for the door handle. The warm, addictive scent of coffee flooded your senses as you entered the building. You almost connected your sudden rise in temperature to its cozy atmosphere—that was, until your eyes zeroed in on a figure seated at the table directly across from where you stood.

He was hunched over his laptop, consumed by his dark clothes so that he was hardly visible to anyone passing by, but you’d already reached a point where you could’ve recognized that side profile anywhere. A distinctive nose peeked out from behind the hood pulled over his head, thumb brushing over his lips as he concentrated on the screen before him.

Driven by an urge you couldn’t quite place, your feet drew you in his direction, and you had to force yourself to come to a sudden halt. He looked busy—exhausted, too—it was probably best to leave him alone.

Just as you turned to continue over to the coffee stand, dark eyes flickered up to find you, as if on cue. Recognition flooded his face, lighting up with a smile.

You gave him a small wave, and to your surprise, he gestured enthusiastically for you to come over to him. You adjusted the strap of your bag, feeling unusually self-conscious, like you’d given too much away with just your stare. Still, you steeled yourself and padded over to his table.

“Hey!” Chan removed his headphones, hood slipping off along with them. “I was just thinking of you.”

You blinked. “You were?”

“Yeah, you and Bin had your exam today, didn’t you?”

“Oh, right. He just headed home, actually.”

He pulled out the chair next to his, inviting you to take it. You hesitated for a moment before accepting, giving him a grateful nod.

As you settled in next to him, it dawned on you that this was the first time you’d ever seen him without some kind of hat or beanie on his head. You hadn't even known that his hair was curly. It felt akin to a crime to have been robbed of the sight; soft, brown ringlets falling just above his eyes and swooping out at his nape, almost like the tail of a duck.

“How’d it go?” He tilted his head curiously. “Alright, I hope?”

“Well, let’s just say I understand why you switched majors.”

Chan’s laughter filled your ears, a blissful compensation for the past two hours you’d just had. He reached out to tap your shoulder lightly as he giggled, and you weren’t sure why it made your heartbeat pick up.

“That bad, huh?”

“It would’ve gone a lot worse without your help,” you confessed. “Thanks again for studying with us, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, of course!” Chan chirped. “I’m glad to help.”

“Are you sure there’s really nothing I can do in return? I hope you’re not holding back just ‘cause I’m Changbin’s friend.”

You were careful to ask a second time after your failed attempt at convincing him to accept some kind of payment—favor, anything—during your first study session. Just as Changbin had predicted, he’d brushed you off with a polite smile, insisting that it was the least he could do. Despite your best efforts, you’d ultimately stopped pressing the issue to avoid coming off as too pushy.

Chan waved his hand, dismissive, yet again. “Nah, you don’t have to worry about that. It’s no trouble at all!”

“How about I buy you a coffee?” You motioned in the direction of the kiosk. “Just one cup, and I’ll stop nagging.”

“Ah.” He scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Sorry, I don’t really drink it.”

You stared, waiting for some kind of indication that he was just messing with you, but it never came. Suddenly, his perpetually worn-out state made perfect sense.

“A college student who doesn’t drink coffee? They should study you.”

He grinned, looking a bit embarrassed. “If you need me as the subject for your research next semester, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “But then I’d owe you double.”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and you tried not to focus on the way his thumb came to run over his full lips again. You’d never seen lips shaped like his before; when you looked closely enough, they resembled a soft-edged heart.

“How about this? Give me your number and we’ll call it even.”

Your mouth nearly fell open. You hadn’t pegged him as the type.

“That way, we can say we’re officially friends,” he continued, completely oblivious to your shock. “And helping out a friend is normal, yeah?”

Friends. It was odd to hear him say that. You weren’t really sure if you could consider someone you’d spent just a handful of hours with your friend, but for what it was worth, he seemed to be speaking sincerely.

Your brief moment of panic melted away. Another case of unintentional flirtatiousness on his part, after all. It was relieving, in a way, because you could only imagine the effect someone like him might have on people if only he knew how to utilize his charm.

“Alright, you win. Just a warning, though, I’m not the best texter.”

“Me neither,” he admitted. “But if you ever need anything or wanna chat, I’ll be there!”

As you exchanged phone numbers, every one of your instincts called for you to be suspicious of Chan, to believe that, surely, he must have some kind of ulterior motive behind his eagerness to befriend you. But you knew what ill-intent looked like by now,—you’d be a fool if you didn’t—and there was none behind his eyes, just an honest desire to help in any way that he could.

It was almost foreign to you, something you’d never really seen in any other person but one.

“There! You’re debt-free.” Chan handed your phone back to you. He’d taken it upon himself to add a wolf emoji next to his contact name, and you shot him an amused look.

“My friends say it reminds them of me,” his voice turned a bit sheepish, as if realizing how silly it felt to say out loud.

You softened. “That’s cute.”

“You think so?” He reached up to fiddle with his piercing, and you noticed for the first time how red the tip of his ear had become. Probably a side effect of his concerning levels of body heat. “What should I put next to yours?”

“A flame?” you joked. “So you can remember me as the girl who sucks at thermo.”

Chan flexed his fingers. “I like it,” he giggled.

You stole a glance at his laptop as he edited your contact, met with a sea of sound waves, audio files, and incomprehensible icons taking up his screen.

“So, were you working on something?”

He perked up. “Oh, yeah! Just messing around with some sounds, really.”

You leaned in a bit closer despite not understanding much of what you were looking at. Even with your lack of expertise, you could see that whatever he was doing was more than just messing around.

“Is it for a class?” your interest piqued. “Or for 3RACHA?”

Chan’s breath hitched, loud enough for you to hear, and you wondered for a moment if you’d said something wrong.

“You know about that?”

“Bin’s shown me a few songs! You guys are really good.”

He ducked his head, the flush on his ears creeping up to paint his cheeks the same shade. Oh. He really had been flustered the entire time. It excited you more than it probably should have.

“Ah, thank you,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Sorry, I’m just a little caught off guard, I think.”

You considered changing the subject for the sake of his comfort. What he said next, however, quickly quelled any concerns you had. “Which one did you like the most?”

He lifted his gaze shyly, looking so hungry for approval that you made a mental note to ask him more about his music in the future.

“Zone!” you didn’t miss a beat. “I especially love the lines in Māori.”

His face broke out into a grin so wide that his eyes almost squeezed shut from sheer happiness. “I sing that part,” he beamed. 

Of course he did. You tried to imagine it—the bubbly, unassuming boy in front of you delivering lines with such power and confidence. It intrigued you, just like everything else about him. From the first day Changbin had described him to you, he was like a puzzle that you were determined to collect all the pieces of, to bring your understanding of him to completion.

Your original goal in coming to the library now long forgotten, the two of you stayed at his table for at least another hour, chatting about all sorts of things. You learned that while all three members of 3RACHA had a hand in composing and songwriting (a fact that you made note of for future, Changbin-teasing purposes) Chan played the biggest role when it came to arrangement. With a bit of prompting on your part, he gave in and showed you a snippet of what he’d been working on before you arrived.

Placebo was the working title. It had a hopeful, upbeat melody that made you feel light and strangely nostalgic. There were no lyrics yet—Chan was still waiting on Jisung, the final third of the boys, to finish up his parts. As it turned out, he was the wide-eyed, messy-haired junior you’d spotted hanging around Changbin all those instances over the years, and one of the first people that Chan had befriended upon moving from Australia. How they’d come to meet when Chan was three years older than him, you had no idea, but you figured this guy could become best friends with his prison guard if he really wanted to, so it didn’t seem worth questioning.

Even with its half-finished instrumental and lack of lyrics, you could already sense a potential new favorite in Placebo. Though, if you were being honest, given the expression on Chan’s face as he played it for you—earnest and giddy and biting his fist in anticipation—you might've said the same regardless of which song it was.

“Do you really like it?” He kept his eyes on the screen, but you could see the glee plastered on his face.

“I do! It makes me happy.” You slipped his headphones off and passed them back to him. “You have to show me when it’s finished, okay?”

It didn’t seem possible, but his smile grew, cheeks rising and dimples flashing. “Okay, promise.”

He held out his pinky to seal the deal. You hesitated, wincing inwardly when you remembered what had happened the last time your skin touched his. Even so, you were determined not to fumble another interaction with him, and you braced yourself before hooking your fingers together.

The heat was still very much there, though not quite as drastic as before. It didn’t jolt through your nerve-endings like it had when you’d first met; instead, it kindled at your point of contact and spread steadily along your skin, from your pinky to your palm until it warmed your entire body. Gentle and intense, all at once.

Chan looked like he had something to say, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, your phone buzzed to life on the table. Reluctantly, you unlaced your pinky from his and reached for the device, unsurprised when you saw Iseul’s name in glowing white letters.

“Sorry, one sec,” you excused yourself, knowing that if you didn’t take her call now, many more were to come.

“Hello?” your voice came out winded, and you swallowed hard to steady it.

“Are you busy?”

Your eyes darted to Chan. He’d turned his attention back to his laptop, humming quietly to himself.

“Kinda, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” she paused. “What’s up?”

“Just in the library,” you left out the fact that you were with Chan, not keen on fueling her newfound desire for matchmaking.

“I need help planning my schedule for next semester,” she sounded stressed, but you knew by now that even the most easily-solved of problems could be the end of the world in her eyes. “Literally none of these marketing sections work for me and I need this credit to graduate. I’m going fucking crazy trying to move my other classes around.”

There was no excuse for you to say no, other than the fact that academics were the last thing you wanted to think about after the midterm you’d just had. That, and, you were enjoying your time with Chan more than you’d like to admit.

“Alright, I can help you figure it out. I’ll just need some time to get to your place.”

"You’re the best,” she breathed a sigh of relief. “Hurry, please.”

At that, she hung up, probably to get right back to abusing her laptop’s trackpad with furious clicks. You slipped your phone into your pocket, and when you began gathering up your belongings, Chan’s gaze shifted back to you.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah,” you wished you didn’t feel so wistful about it. “My friend needs help with her fall schedule, she’s kinda freaking out.”

A knowing look crossed his face, lip twitching with the faintest hint of amusement. It wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he hummed. “Just think I understand now why you wanted to repay me so bad.”

You had half a mind to be taken aback, but it felt strangely expected of him, like you’d known that such a minor detail would be enough for him to catch on. That tendency you’d noticed from the first day you’d met him, making itself known more and more each time you crossed paths. 

“Think you’re the only one who can do people favors?” 

“Course not,” his smile mirrored yours. “I hope things work out with your friend.”

“Thanks.” You rose from your spot, wondering briefly if you should say what was on your mind before parting ways with him. “It was nice talking with you.”

“You, too.” He held up his phone, wiggling it around as a reminder. “We’ll talk more soon!”

In the end, you left the library without a single drop of caffeine in your system, yet somehow, you felt more energized than ever.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Six weeks and several study sessions later, you had come to make two more very important realizations about Bang Christopher Chan.

The first being, that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d warned you about his texting habits. You’d always thought you were bad at responding in a timely manner, hell, you’d thought Changbin was bad; but when Chan said he wasn’t the best texter, he didn’t just mean that he could be dry or slow or forgetful, he meant that most of the time, he simply didn’t text at all.

Instead, he liked to call.

You didn’t really mind—you tended to prefer talking to people over texting, anyway, but you’d admittedly been stunned when, after a week of radio silence following your encounter in the library, he’d contacted you out of the blue for no reason other than to “catch up”. No warning, no opening text, just an unexpected call that ended up stretching into a thirty minute conversation before you had to hang up and head to your next class. Another short period of no contact, and then, it had happened again. This time, just a few days following your first chat.

His calls, you’d also noticed as time went on, sometimes came at the most ungodly hours of the night. Once or twice, you’d woken up in the morning to find a missed call notification followed by an apologetic text a few hours later.

chan 🐺 (5:23 a.m.) sorry haha, didn’t realize how late it was

It left you perplexed as to when this man ever got a wink of sleep.

Even with your conversations being so sporadic, you found yourself looking forward to them regardless. He always had something interesting to share with you, from stories about people he’d met and the places he’d been, to music discussions and recommendations, to a vast array of space knowledge that he seemed to have neatly filed away in his brain. He talked about space a lot, like it was his friend. The moon, especially. It was undoubtedly your favorite topic of conversation, not only because it was a shared interest, but because the pure wonder and adoration with which he spoke of it stirred a warmth inside you like no other.

On top of all that, he always made an effort to check in with things on your end as well—in fact, it was always the first thing he asked about the moment you’d pick up, which might have been the most confusing detail of all. He was simultaneously the most absent and the most attentive communicator you’d ever met.

Once it had been made apparent to you that this routine may very well become commonplace with Chan, your curiosity had piqued enough for you to finally question him about it. His explanation, however, almost had you wishing you’d never asked, because nothing could’ve prepared you for his simple, sincere, “It’s just nice to hear your voice, y’know?”

That led into your second, more troubling realization. Somewhere along the line, you seemed to have developed a bit of a soft spot for Chan.

It had dawned on you some weeks ago, when the two of you had visited a new ice cream shop near campus that you’d mentioned was your favorite. When you’d recommended the place to him, you’d never once considered that he would take it as a suggestion for you to accompany him in trying it out. In the end, he’d ordered not one, not two, but all three of the signature flavors you told him you liked the most, detailing his thoughts about each one, with plenty of delighted hums and vocalizations in the process. Much to your horror, you’d listened to him chat passionately away with the most hopelessly endeared, involuntary smile on your face, knowing right then and there that your fate was sealed.

For that reason, your limited interaction with him was more like a blessing in disguise to you. The moment you’d discovered just how often your thoughts seemed to be preoccupied with him, your first instinct had been to distance yourself, to cut off all unnecessary contact until the pesky, ever-present daydream of his melodic laughter was forcibly expelled from your brain. Your regular meetings with him and Changbin, however, had made your efforts increasingly difficult, and you couldn’t shake the fear that, with how naturally Chan seemed to tune in to your emotions, it was only a matter of time before he noticed you behaving differently around him.

Today brought with it another moment of reckoning, another test of your resolve in the form of a two hour study session. You’d managed to get by the last few without any major slip-ups, making you especially grateful that Changbin was around to ensure you behaved more like your usual self.

bin 😑 (5:36 p.m.) oh, i forgot to tell you i can’t make it today

You stared down at your phone in disbelief, nearly coming to a halt in the middle of the road.

You’d texted Changbin this morning to double check that you were still on for studying this evening, even making sure to reach out hours in advance so he could reply before it was too late. Clearly, you’d have to give him at least a day’s notice from now on, because you were just a minute away from his complex when he’d decided to graciously inform you that he wouldn’t be coming.

you (5:36 p.m.) are u serious??? i’m almost at your place

bin 😑 (5:38 p.m.) sorry sorry it’s game night w/ minho and jisung lol. but chan’s home dw

you (5:38 p.m.) game night...you do realize this is for the final right? why isn’t chan with you guys?

bin 😑 (5:39 p.m.) relax mom i’ll come to the next one ;;; and he said he’s fine studying w/ you instead

A sense of dread twisted in your stomach. Regardless of how kind-hearted Chan was, you knew there was absolutely no chance in hell he would’ve preferred to stay home on a Friday night, tutoring you on the most demonic subjects known to man, while his friends hung out without him.

bin 😑 (5:40 p.m.) are you mad ㅜ

you (5:41 p.m.) ur a bad kid

bin 😑 (5:41 p.m.) huuuu ㅜㅜ

you (5:42 p.m.) i’m just gonna head home and tell chan we should reschedule

bin 😑 (5:42 p.m.) noooo don’t do that chan doesn’t care i promise lol

bin 😑 (5:43 p.m.) he probably prefers it this way tbh

You paused, hand resting uncertainly on the stairway railing.

you (5:44 p.m.) what do you mean?

A minute passed, then another, and still no response. You huffed, assuming you’d reached your Changbin text quota for the day, and you locked your phone irritably. If Chan was expecting you, you supposed you had no choice.

It’s not a big deal, probably. You told yourself as you trudged up the stairs. Still, it felt like one. The prospect of being alone with him stressed you out as much as it excited you. No long-distance advantage of a phone call, no Changbin serving as a bridge between the two of you; just you versus Chan and his accidental charm for the next two hours.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door of unit 8-325. You wondered briefly if he’d even heard, considering his headphones were virtually glued to his ears most of the time, but you didn’t get the chance to worry much about it before the door swung open, much sooner than you’d expected.

“Hi!” he greeted cheerfully. “How’ve you been?”

No hoodie on today. It made sense, given how much the weather had warmed up, but you personally felt that the muscle tank he had on instead wasn’t really necessary. His curls were out, too.

So, it was safe to say you weren’t doing well.

“Powering through the end of the semester,” you flashed a quick smile, shuffling inside and slipping off your shoes. “You?”

Chan shut the door with a noise of sympathy. “Same here.”

Your eyes scanned over the apartment. It felt undeniably empty without Changbin’s steady, familiar presence next to you or without Minho slinking back and forth between his room and the kitchen, making sure to cause as many distractions as possible each time he did.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out. “Changbin just told me that he wasn’t coming. If you wanna do this another night and go hang out with the others, that’s totally fine.”

He looked surprised for a moment, turning to look at you properly. “It's all good! They’ve been obsessed with that game for weeks, I got kinda sick of it, anyway.”

“Oh,” you frowned.

Chan sensed that you were still unconvinced—of course he did—and he gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here because I wanna be.”

You knew it wasn’t his intention, but your heart still skipped a beat.

“That’s what I’m so confused about, I guess.”

He simply chuckled in response, as if that were enough to explain himself. Despite your lingering concerns, you decided not to press the issue any further, and you made your way over to the kitchen table as usual to set down your bag. You realized a moment too late that you had chosen the chair right next to where his laptop was placed. Just as you were debating whether or not you could get away with switching before he noticed, he slipped into the spot next to you, blissfully unaware of the impact it’d have on your psyche for the rest of the hour.

“I’m glad you came,” he commented, setting up his own study materials. “Feels like it’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

You wondered if that was his way of letting you know that he felt you’d been avoiding him. Well, avoiding was a bit of a stretch. More like limiting your exposure, taking him in moderation so you wouldn’t get addicted.

“It does,” you agreed. “And not just ‘cause you disappear off the face of the earth when I don’t see you in person.”

“Hey, hey!” It was defensive, but good-natured as ever. “I’m just not much of a phone guy.”

“Right, you’re more of a laptop guy.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

“Speaking of,” you gestured to the device in question. “Have you made any progress on Placebo?”

He perked up, visibly brightening at your mention of the song. “A bit,” he chirped. “Actually, I rearranged some parts of it.”

“Oh?”

Chan’s eyes twinkled, and you got the feeling that something mischievous was brewing in his mind. “Not gonna show you yet, though.”

“And break our promise?” you feigned hurt.

“Our promise was for me to show you when it’s finished, yeah?” his grin was far too proud, like he’d been waiting for his chance to pull something like this. It was a newer side of him you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet—playful, cheeky.

“The fine print, huh?” you clicked your tongue in defeat. “Alright, you win.”

“That’s two for me, so far.”

With the way he giggled, it felt more like a win for you.

A good half hour had passed before the two of you began any actual studying, and it wouldn’t have bothered you—not in the slightest—if you weren’t already concerned about taking up too much of Chan’s evening. It didn’t help that he seemed to be a bit unfocused today as well, prone to veering off topic even more so than usual and leaving his attempts at explaining the material harder to follow than ever.

He pressed his lips together into an uncertain line, squinting at his laptop screen as he tried to make sense of the application of Sommerfeld expansion. Absent-mindedly, he crossed an arm over his chest to cup his neck, biceps bulging in the process. You’d learned from your talks with him that he was a swimmer, but you hadn’t quite expected him to look like that beneath the oversized jackets and hoodies that he wore so religiously. It was hard not to stare, to admire every toned curve and vein that protruded ever so slightly when he flexed his muscles. 

You wondered what it’d be like to touch them; if they were as firm and powerful as they looked, or if they were surprisingly much softer, just like his demeanor. You also wondered how they might look beneath you, held down by your grasp.

“Sorry,” he sighed at last, bringing you back to your senses. “I’m not really sure about this one.”

You tore your eyes away from his arms, face heating up despite not being caught. “No worries.” You put your pen down. “Do you wanna take a break? I feel like we’re both kinda out of it tonight.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He looked relieved, and a bit self-conscious. “To be honest, I barely even understood this stuff when I was an astrophysics major.”

It was an offhand comment, but it caught your attention. You’d admittedly begun to assume as much after your second or third study group under his guidance, given the way consulted outside sources so often, but to have it confirmed brought about a whole new level of respect for Chan. And, maybe something else.

“Have you been learning thermo all over again just for me and Bin?”

His gaze fell, as if realizing in alarm that he’d inadvertently exposed himself to you.  “You could say that,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I actually think I’m studying more now than I ever did when I took this class.”

A part of you wasn’t sure whether or not to be bothered that you’d been tutored by someone who wasn’t exactly qualified for the past month and a half. But no matter how badly his act of selflessness could have ended up for all three of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but affection for the boy. Well, that, and a bit of guilt for even putting him in this position in the first place. He’d gone out of his way to re-teach himself concepts that were by no means easy to grasp, solely for the sake of helping you and Changbin out. And he had. You knew for a fact that you’d not only seen improvement in your scores since meeting him, but in your confidence in the subject as a whole.

“You’re seriously too nice for your own good,” you murmured.

He reached up for his ear, tugging at his piercing. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not,” you said firmly. “Not many people would do that, especially for a stranger. So, thank you.”

“Of course,” his voice was light. “We’re friends, after all.”

“Right.”

Friends. The first time he’d said it, you’d been doubtful—both in regards to whether or not you could actually call yourselves friends, and in his intentions in doing so. Hearing it now, you felt just as strange about it, but not for the same reasons. You could safely say you were friends, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was, you wanted to be more.

“Did you like astrophysics?” you asked the question before you had the chance to say something else, something far more stupid.

“I did,” he sounded genuine, but tense. “Well, for the most part. It just felt like the most…practical thing I could do, y’know?”

“Can I ask why you changed majors?”

It was a detail that had been nagging away at the back of your mind since Changbin had first mentioned it to you. You weren’t sure why it felt so important to know, like an essential piece of the puzzle.

Chan paused, an uncomfortable look crossing his face. It barely lasted a second, but it instantly had you wishing you’d curbed your curiosity and said nothing at all.

“It’s kinda a long story,” he said slowly. You could tell he was trying to sound casual about it. His body language, however, was more than enough for you to see that he wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I guess it was just something I needed to do at the time.”

“I understand,” you decided to drop it, for his sake. “No need to get into it, if you don’t want to.”

He gave you a grateful smile. “Some other time, yeah? Can’t be telling you my life story when I’m supposed to be helping you prepare for finals.”

You hummed softly in agreement, and just like that, the atmosphere was relaxed again.

Still, the question lingered in your mind.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

It was inevitable to you, at this point, that any and all sense of time would be lost whenever you and Chan got to talking. What you’d intended to be just a short break from studying to recharge, eventually morphed into another hour and a half of you two chatting away—with a few failed attempts to get back to work here and there. That was why, when the clock struck 9:00 p.m. to mark your third hour with him, you were hardly surprised.

“Why don’t I walk you home? It’s late.”

You tried to ignore the way his offer made your stomach flip.

“Oh, no you don’t have to.” The words were out of your mouth like an instinct. It was tempting, so, so tempting, but you knew that any more exposure to Chan was sure to make your soft spot for him develop into something much more troublesome. “It's a pretty far walk.”

He tilted his head, confused as to why the distance was even worth mentioning.

“Ohh, I see,” his voice took on that same, unfamiliar quality from before. “You don’t wanna spend any more time with me, is that it?”

You blinked, scanning his face for some sign of hurt or offense. Instead, all you found was a playful smile, eyes crinkling and dimples flashing.

He was teasing you.

“You got me,” you played along, throwing your bag dramatically over your shoulder. “I only spend my Friday nights studying thermo with people I can’t stand.”

Chan giggled. It was shy and cute; the giggle of someone completely unaware of how enamored with him you really were.

“In that case, making me walk there and back shouldn’t be a problem, right? Since you hate me so much.”

You relented. It was a losing battle from the start, anyway.

The air had grown a bit chillier after sunset, which, much to your relief, meant Chan had thrown on a jacket and covered up his criminally distracting arms. You felt a strange sense of peace as the two of you strolled along the sidewalk out of his apartment phase, stealing glances at him as often as the streetlights would allow. He had his hands in his pockets, swinging them with each step he took and swaying his head along with the breeze that brushed through his curls.

It was hopeless. You were so hopelessly taken by him.

“There she is,” you remarked, slowing your pace to gaze upwards. “That moon you love so much.”

It reflected a pure, white light among the sea of stars, owning the sky in all its Waning Gibbous glory.

“Beautiful,” you heard Chan murmur.

You looked over at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes illuminated by the moon as he stared up in awe. Instead, you found him staring right at you.

He seemed taken aback for a moment. Even so, for once, he didn’t look away. He simply smiled.

Warmth spread through your chest, and you knew this time you couldn’t blame it on his body heat.

“I think you have us both beat,” you said softly.

At that, he broke eye contact. He ducked his head with a shy puff of laughter, pressing his cheek into his shoulder to hide his face. You rode the high of it for the rest of your walk home together.

The two of you were mostly quiet as you neared your apartment complex, letting the silence hang comfortably around you. Despite the long walk, neither of you were in any particular hurry, and when you approached the front gate of your building, you couldn’t help but feel that the time had slipped away from you all too quickly.

“Thanks again for walking me home,” you murmured. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he grinned.

Your hand rested tentatively on the handle, not yet wanting this moment to end.

“Not gonna try to return the favor, are you?” His eyes sparkled in the low light. Even when he was messing with you, he still sounded seconds away from becoming flustered himself.

You smiled. “I’ve got something in mind.”

Before he could say anything else, and before you could second guess yourself, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was quick and innocent, but it made his breath catch in his throat all the same. 

When you pulled back, Chan’s fingers came to hover over the spot your lips had been moments ago. You wished the lighting in the hallway was stronger, so that you could fully see the furious blush that you knew was spreading across his face.

His eyes flickered down to your lips. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t have to for you to hear him willing you to do it, begging you to do it.

So, you leaned in again and kissed him.

The heat that surged through you was different this time. It didn’t make you flinch or jolt back in alarm; it drew you in. However soft you’d imagined Chan’s lips to be—plush and heart-shaped and irresistible—the reality was infinitely softer.

Your hands reached up to cup his face. His warmth fed into yours, and vice versa, and somewhere in the back of your mind, it became clear that the fire had been coming from both of you this entire time. He sighed sweetly into the kiss, tilting his head forward, trying somehow to deepen it even further, like he wouldn’t satisfied until you were completely melded together.

The two of you might have stayed that way if your lungs hadn’t begun to cry for air. Reluctantly, you pulled away, leaving you both breathless and longing for each other’s warmth again. All the efforts you’d made to hold yourself back around him seemed so laughable now. You didn’t want him in moderation, you wanted all of him.

Chan’s eyes fluttered open, dark and dazed. The sight made you want to pull him inside with you, to take him apart bit by bit and put him back together again, over and over until you knew him inside and out.

Instead, you brushed your thumb over his burning cheek, touch harboring a gentleness that masked the ache inside you.

“Get home safe, Channie,” you whispered.

[wendynerdwrites]

A Measured Response: A Measured Response

Above please find the video I'm responding to, "A Measured Response" by James Somerton. If he deletes later (and I suspect he may), I will reblog with an embed of a copy of the video.

Also note: Much of this is taken from comments I made on his video. But I believe he may be deleting them. Or I got caught up in the spam filter because I commented more than once out of sheer frustration with what I was hearing.

James,

Okay, I am going to start off with a couple things I will give you credit for:

1) Acknowledging the shitty effect nuking your channel had on Nick's career and prospects. That's actually something that hasn't been discussed much and it is genuinely good of you to volunteer that to your audience. As someone who once had her own portfolio nuked by former partners, that's a good thing to bring up. No notes there. That was a good move.

2) You actually used the word 'plagiarism' this time.

I would also like to say that I am glad that you are safe and I am glad you are still alive.

I'm hearing lots about insurance, and your mental health struggles, and the move YOU chose to make "disrupting everything" and your mom's death, "not citing things correctly", how ADHD apparently made you plagiarize, and how hard things are for you. And how people harassed and doxxed you. How you totally want to prove yourself!

Here's what I'm not hearing about:

1) The harassment campaign you launched against your accusers that literally caused them to go into hiding. Sorry, but you don't get sympathy points about death threats and doxing without at least expressing remorse when you did that to others. You haven't mentioned it once. you also falsely accused OTHERS of sending harassment your way and have not acknowledged it.

2) The multiple transphobic and misogynistic lies you told.

3) The tangible impact of queer erasure YOU ENGAGED IN. You barely mention any of the people you stole from. Believe it or not, James, but those people? They also had lives, and jobs, and obligations. Some of them also had dead parents. Then there are the queer people you erased the identities of, slandered, and insulted. Becky Abertelli had to deal with YEARS of the same sort of harassment you're complaining about because of people calling her straight. And even after she was FORCED OUT OF THE CLOSET, you perpetuated that lie again. And yes, YOU DID, JAMES. PUTTING HER IN THE 'STRAIGHT AUTHORS' CATEGORY IS CALLING HER STRAIGHT, JAMES. THAT'S HOW CATEGORIES WORK. Then when she briefly corrected you, you lied about her repeatedly and inserted nasty little vague comments about her so that you could bait your audience into asking about it and claim she harassed you on twitter for not liking her show (which never happened once. She didnt even bring up you straight-washing her on twitter. It was in your comments section.). So not only did you lie, you went out of your way to create opportunities to lie about her more.

4) The outright dangerous rhetoric you engaged in. Such as:

a) You lied about the AIDS epidemic and generations of actual queer activists who you claimed didn't care about employment discrimination and just wanted to have "big gay weddings" because they were "boring. This is a false and dangerous retelling of queer history, not only isolating new generations of queer people, but also erasing the tangible benefits of the legal benefits you enjoy now, James. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY COULD HOLD THEIR DYING LOVERS' HANDS AS THEY PASSED AND ATTEND THEIR FUNERALS, JAMES. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY WEREN'T KICKED OUT OF THEIR HOMES AND STRIPPED OF BENEFITS DURING A HEALTH PANDEMIC, JAMES. THEY DID FIGHT FOR EMPLOYMENT RIGHTS, JAMES. THAT'S HOW SEXUALITY BECAME A PROTECTED CLASS. Lying about and downplaying the legal rights these valiant "boring" people fought for misleads current generations of queer people into caring less about their history, the people who have done the most for them, and protecting the legal rights so desperately won.

b) All the gay Nazi shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain why inventing facts about all the Nazi secret police and youth counselors being gay and extorting people for sex under the Reich is so insanely dangerous and disgusting, but here's a hint: it casts your own community as being the vile, perverted criminals that THE ACTUAL PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD (you know, homophobes? Not people on the internet who noticed you plagiarized the Celluloid Closet) perpetuate in order to sell their draconian policies to the masses.

c) all the misogyny. I get it, you want to erase the discrimination against women (and people you claim are women) have faced, especially as queer women. You wanted to pretend Radcliffe Hall was allowed to "carry on with her happy little life." You wanted your audience to believe that. You wanted your audience to shit on women for moral panics you made up. You wanted to erase the queer identity of a woman who had already been through Hell and then pass it off as justified. With the rising tied of renewed misogyny,, incel attacks, and reproductive rights being stripped from us, you really, really wanted to sell the message of women being whiny, jealous bitches who get handed everything, never deal with consequences, and hate people for not liking their work. (TBH, it feels a bit like projection on your part) thank you for spreading so much incel rhetoric and transphobia and making your audience ignorant of the great contributions women have made to LGBTQIA history.

I'd respect you more if you would just own up to the obvious biases you clearly have.

That's not all, but my hands are getting tired.

5) That you were caught lying about the contents of Hbomb's video in your initial patreon response.

6) The worth of the people you stole from.

7) Using Nick's asexuality as an excuse for your acephobic AF bullshit about how ace people apparently never dealt with institutional oppression when they're the most likely to be sent to conversion camp and have had corrective rape used as a "treatment" throughout history. Like, holy shit, James.

8) How you tried to lay blame for your shitty, stolen work on your own audience because "you didn't wanrt to make them and they were patreon requests." You didn't have to keep video requests as a perk. Those people paid over $300 to you for those wids only for you to throw them under the bus.

9) Your complete refusal to update your Telos backers on anything besides announcing new projects that you were using to replace the projects you promised them. You could have gone on Patreon, Indiegogo, Twitter, or your channel, and explained things. Things like this happen. But instead you ghosted and gaslighted.

10) The shit you pulled about Nebula.

11) The shitsquillion dollars you spent on cameras you didn't need when you were also claiming to your patrons about being on the verge of homelessness.

"It's a documentary, no opinion just cited facts." James, you've cited "facts" like "15% of the Hitler Youth counselors were gay", "Radcliffe Hall didn't get punished for writing a book about lesbians", and "there was no fight against employment discrimination" as "facts."

Then there's the part where you're still insisting that the people who told you that you can't make a short film on 3K were wrong. You insist it's possible because you intended to use non-union labor. then two minutes later you admit a movie you put together ended up going way over-budget because you didn't realize how much things would cost.

So the Telos nay-sayers had a point, James. Why are you still acting like they were wrong. Do you just not want anyone to find Dan Olsen's tweets about your finances?

The fact that you think you have any business coming back when all you've ever managed are lies and theft is so hilariously conceited. I get it. You want to be able to "carry on with your happy little life" (the way Radcliffe Hall DIDN'T). You want to go back to being a big youtuber and for everyone to admire you once you manage to go a whole video without stealing from anyone. That's not how this works. You have no credibility. You have caused a huge amount of damage not just to your immediate audience, but also the queer community overall.

You hurt a lot more people than Jessie Gender, James.

"We weren't trying to lie about things." BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU NOT ONLY LIED ABOUT BECKY ALBERTALLI MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU EVEN MADE AN INDIRECT DIG AT HER SO YOUR AUDIENCE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT SO YOU COULD LIE ABOUT YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH HER AS WELL. YOU LIED ABOUT WHO ACTUALLY WROTE YOUR VIDEOS. YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR CREDITS. YOU LIED ON PURPOSE. AND YOU LIED IN WAYS THAT HURT PEOPLE.

You also lie in your video saying "in the beginning, I thought it was enough to put people's names in the opening credits." No you didn't. You started using those opening credits well after the accusations came rolling in. You even admitted on twitter that in the beginning you weren't "citing my sources yet."

Do I believe much of your bullshit was pure laziness? Certainly. But there can be more than one reason for it. There's no way you knew who Radcliffe Hall was and actually thought she face no repercussions. No one who has ever heard of The Well of Loneliness DOESN'T know all the prints were destroyed. It being a lesbian book that was destroyed by the courts is THE STORY.

You lied when you said you didn't call Becky Albertalli straight. EVEN THOUGH YOU ADMIT TO PUTTING HER IN THE STRAIGHT CATEGORY.

You lied about your "adaptation" of Evil Queens and tinker Bells and the citation and schedule of when you got approval. You got approval after the fact and claiming you got it from the beginning. your own email screenshot proves it.

You lied saying the Evil Queens video was "a direct adaptation of the books" despite half the video being plagiarized from completely different works. You lied about your plagiarism accusations and HBomb's video rehashing old "debunked" accusations on Patreon. You lied about Alexander Avila. You lied about reading/watching a bunch of the media you were "critiquing." you lied about when you started with your opening credits.

These were ALL LIES YOU TOLD ON PURPOSE.

You don't "research", "write", shoot, edit, and post a video with shit like that in it and say it wasn't malicious or intentional. You put these videos out there with scores of lies, many of which were directed at various marginalized groups, and CHOSE to never check if anything you said was true. You don't invent entire fake moral panics "by accident." You don't plagiarize by accident.

Please don't spend forty minutes reciting excuses and then claim "these are not excuses." You're not fooling us.

Also - Leave your poor mother out of this. She already had to die of cancer. Let the poor woman rest.

But thank you for linking your new patreon and telling us all about your upcoming videos! I am glad you have your priorities straight. (that was sarcasm)

Just leave the internet, James. Not LIFE, OBVIOUSLY. Stay alive. But your time as a content creator is done. You have no viability in that area. The fact that you think you can just do this is equal parts entitled and delusional. That you think you can come back so soon makes it even worse. Tell you what: you can try again after it's verified that the people you stole from have been compensated and you properly apologize for everything else.

I will not believe you're truly sorry until you can actually apologize without caveats, excuses, and, yes, lies. Saying you're sorry for "not citing things correctly" is not apologizing for what you did. It's cushioning the actual facts and downplaying your transgression. You have not apologized for the misogyny, acephobia, or transphobia, which, yes, YOU DID. I don't care if you want to claim it wasn't intentional YOU STILL DID IT. You haven't apologized for harassing and slandering your critics.

So no, James, I don't really believe you're sorry. I think you're sorry this blew up and that you have to make a new patreon. I don't trust that you won't continue being misogynistic. I don't trust that if you ever see this comment, that you will actually read it instead of crying homophobia and cancel culture and "wanting you dead."

Admit that you harassed people and that it was awful. Admit the extent. Admit you lied about Becky Albertalli and apologize to her. Admit that, yes, YOU HAVE SOME REAL ISSUES WITH WOMEN and that you are ready to confront them.

I don't trust you to do the right thing here. But maybe this comment will be read by someone who might have otherwise fallen for this and it'll be easier for them to see through manipulation like this in the future.

Just log off, Bro.

[hina-hina]

Hello i was wondering if you could write ghost and a daughter reader who wants to follow ghosts steps but he doesn't like the idea and they ended up in big argument and wasn't able to make up before he left

Hello friend! I love this request and it's something quite similar to what I did for Price a while back. Still one of my favorite scenarios! Thank you for requesting, Hope you enjoy!!

Tried something new with this one, I hope you guys like it! I saw another writing using this format but I can't remember the user. If you know, please lmk so I can give proper credit!

Ghost is a single dad in this btw!!

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost With a Daughter That Wants to Go Into the Military ||

Warnings: Wicked amounts of angst but also fluff

Female!Reader // Platonic

Your dad always claimed that you were a little too much like him

Most of the time, he found it endearing

But then their are times he wished you didn't take after him so much

He had come home from deployment and he could tell something was up

You had insisted on making him a home cooked meal because you knew he had been surviving off bland MREs for months

But he sat down and the two of you had a pleasant dinner and exchanged stories on what had been happening in your respective lives

When you suddenly got serious, he knew he was in for it

You scooted your chair close to him and grasped his hand which had been lying on the table then said you had something to tell him

His mind immediately starts jumping to the worse but he tries to keep it under control and let you finish

Then you tell him that you plan to enlist in the military

He is immediately shook by fear and just tells you a simple but firm, "No."

"You didn't even let me explain!" You shout back as he back.

Ghost jumps from his chair, turning his back on you as he runs a shaky hand down his face, "You don't need to explain, the answer is no."

Your face screws up, anger at your father's abrupt dismissiveness, you grumble, "It wasn't a question."

He turns, his face drawn up in a surprised annoyance, "Excuse me?"

"What's the big deal, anyway." You were standing now, locked into an intense stare-off with Ghost, "Your in the military."

"I joined the military to ensure you would never have to. Conversation over." His accent was becoming thicker as you could almost sense his rising anger.

You were being overtaken with such childish anger. You wanted to stomp your feet and scream until he decided to listen to you. You hated fighting with your dad but you couldn't stand how protective he was over you sometimes.

Ghost was now moving to collect the dishes, ignoring looking at you entirely as he moved to put them in the sink. Him dropping the conversation and trying to move on like nothing happened only made you more angry.

"Well, I'm doing it whether you like it or not!"

You knew you were being childish now but that didn't stop you. You turned on your heel and stomped up the stairs to your bedroom, slamming the door for good measure.

The next few days were painful to say the least. It was filled with silent dinners and the both of you being too prideful to start the conversation again.

This continued until the day came where he had to return to base to prepare for his newest mission.

That's what brought you to today, the both of you standing face to face in the living room. He was dressed in civvies but he had his impossibly large military duffle tossed over one shoulder, his balaclava gripped in one hand as he prepared to become Ghost again.

"I'll be back in a few months. I'll send letters and tell Mrs. Davies is next door if you need anything."

You nod your head but still refuse to speak, causing a deep sigh to rumble from his chest. He looked like he wanted to say something but he didn't. Instead, he opened his arms slightly, a subtle invitation for a hug.

You don't move a muscle.

He face twitches with disappointment before he raises his hands to pull his balaclava on, hiding his facial expressions from you.

"Bye, love."

He heads out the door and locks it behind him. You feel your eyes start to sting.

Despite what happened when you left, he does keep true to his promise to send letters up until the day comes when he has to ship out.

You don't hear from him again and you spend the next few weeks sulking alone. Until a knock comes from the door, causing you to drag yourself from your bed despite how your body fights against it.

You open the door and standing there, shifting nervously, is none other than John MacTavish, your father's sergeant.

Your heart sinks, "Can I help you?"

"Hi, lassie," He smiles but it seems forced, "I was sent by your father's task force to inform you that yer dad has been injured while in action."

"What?" Your voice cracks, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

"He's alright now, gunnin' to see you actually. I can drive you to the hospital, if you want?"

Immediately, all the things that you were angry about seem so insignificant. You regret not hugging him even more. You give the other man a slight nod as you rush to grab your purse, locking the house and rushing out to his car. He doesn't push you to talk and he pretends not to notice the silent tears streaming down your face.

When you arrive to the hospital, John walks you through the secure areas in the military hospital and leads the way to your father's room. He holds the door open for you and you inch inside.

Ghost is laying on the stiff hospital bed, eyes shooting toward the door as he watches you enter. His eyes crinkle from under his balaclava, a tell-tell sign that he is smiling. "Thanks, Johnny. Mind givin' us a minute?"

"Not at all, sir." John closes the door behind himself leaving you and your dad in the silent hospital room.

Your dad is the first one to speak, "How are you, love?"

You crumble. Your eyes fill with tears as you stumble toward your father's bedside. His arms immediately open and you jump straight into them, careful to avoid his bandaged wounds. He shushes you softly as you beginning to release hiccuping sobs.

"I'm s-so sorry! You got hurt and I didn't even give you a fucking hug before you left! I'm s-sorry, Dad!"

"Enough of that, no more Scrikin', now." He wipes your tears away, taking one hand to pull his balaclava off. He never liked wearing it around you. "I'm sorry for not hearing you out. I just can't stand to think of something happenin' to ye. But, I promise we will talk about it. Don't go jumpin' into anything just cause your old man said you couldn't."

You laugh, rubbing at your ruddy cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, "Ok."

"Love ya, kid." He ruffles your hair.

"Love you too, Dad."

Thank you for reading!

[nanaminslutz]

Arranged Marriage - Part 1

[art credit: hkiddo]

Satoru Gojo x reader in an arranged marriage for the sake of their clans staying on good terms. He gets his way...but not always.

Warnings: slow burn, 18+, MDNI, Gojo x reader, sub/dom power struggle, oral, brat

------------------------------------------------------------

Seated across from him in the home that you are damned to live in. Your eyes can't help, but roll as Satoru continues to ramble on about the strong bonds of the clan, it's your duty, blah blah blah. You're freshly married, though an arranged marriage, you had only met each other officially mere hours ago. Now you're shacking up in a luxurious mansion, courtesy of the Gojo clan.

As you continue to drift away in your own thoughts, you couldn't help but think that this is not what you wanted. The hell with the clan, you never envisioned yourself marrying for "power", but for love. You were snapped back into reality when Satoru spoke in a low tone, "Did you just roll your eyes?"

You look at him with a blank stare then proceed to roll your eyes again, just for good measure. You hear him gasp and grin, "Wow, look at that. I never took you for the feisty type." He leans closer. "You know... that's my favorite type." He smirks.

You let out an annoyed scoff. Wanting to remove yourself from his presence, you turn to walk away. Without hesitation, he grabs your wrist, you look down at the strong grip then back up to him. "I don't think you understand..." he pauses to let out a menacing chuckle. "Whether you like it or not, you are MINE. I will do anything I please with you." This took you back for a moment as you never expected him to follow up with that. Yet, you weren't the one to back down. The hell with this marriage.

You glare up at him. "No", you said flatly. His grip tightens and he leans in closer, enough to smell his cologne. "You don't have a choice, my darling." He's uncomfortably close to your face. You turn your head to the side, closing your eyes. His hand now travels up your chin, his long slender fingers placed around your jawline pulling you back to face him. "You know... you're very cute when you act tough, but we both know what's gonna happen." Unable to remove yourself from his grasp, you are frozen, processing your next move. You see a satisfied smile creep on his face. Teasingly he states "Did you give up, my sweet? No need to fight, just relax." In his last words, he leans closer, brushing your hair away from your face. You move away from his touch. He remarks "Oh, so you're going to put up a fight? Obedience is much more fun..." A chuckle escaped his lips. "Oh, my darling... I can't wait to break you" caressing your face, running his hand down and across your neck.

That's it, you thought to yourself, you needed to get out of here. But how? You couldn't possibly try now, you needed to think quickly. You decided to continue to play along then once the moment strikes, you run. "Well..." you hear him say, "what will it be?" Scoffing at his words, "I'm not like other women", you retort. "But that's where you're wrong, love. You may think you are strong minded now... After what I'm going to do with you, what I'm gonna make you endure, you'll be begging for me. Unable to resist me." You shudder momentarily at his words, raising your eyebrow. "And what is it that you think you are going to do to me?", you laugh coldly.

He chuckles as he moves in close and whispers in your ear, running his hand back through your hair, clutching the strands. "You'll see...Eventually. You may not want me now. I'll make you want me. I always get what I want." You can feel his arousal, he loves this "game" you're playing with him. As his face comes inches from yours, you lean closer into him, baiting him in as his clutches loosen. In a split second, you release yourself, making a run for it further into the house you shared. Looking for an exit, an escape. You hear him let out a maniacal laugh. Between his long strides following pursuit, "You can't get away that easily, my darling." In disgust by your pet name, your escape fails as he catches up to you, dragging you back to him. Through clenched teeth, he is clearly pissed, "You could be damned to a whore house! Forced to live a concubines life, have you brought to me whenever I'm feeling bored to have my way with you. Or... we can skip this nonsense and you can just do whatever I tell you to do. Because you will." You stand there in shock by his words, body unable to move. His arms now placed above your head as he backs you into the nearest wall. "So... what will it be?", he remarks in a sadistic tone.

You stare blankly for a moment, "Come closer and I'll tell you...", your tone a seductively whisper. His eyes are dark with a hint of confusion as to why you're now being obedient. Yet your words draw him in and he leans closer, "What is it, my pet?" Just inches away from his face, without a second thought you bite his neck and swiftly turn, running away from him. Sprinting, adrenaline coursing through your veins, hoping for the escape you desperately yearn for. Satoru hisses in pain from the bite you left on his neck. He wastes no time catching you, forcefully pinning you against the wall, again. "You're really not gonna like what happens next. That little stunt you just pulled made my decision very clear.", his lips curl into an angry scowl, visible red marks on his neck. You look up into his ocean blue eyes, enraged. "Go to hell", you spat. He grabs your arms tighter, squeezing as he holds you in place. His tone is dark and cold as he stares down at you, savoring your fear. "You're really not smart for that, you know? How do you think I'll punish you for this? Think it will be something sweet and nice?"

Without hesitation, he forcibly pulls you into the next room. It was his bedroom, your eyes widened with the realization of where you are. He throws you onto the bed, "You're going to listen to everything that I tell you. If you put up a fight, you will regret it. So be a good girl for me and do as I say." Closing the door behind him, he swiftly walks to you as you lay there trembling. How the hell are you going to get out of this one, you thought to yourself. Unsure of what he'll do next, you gulp as he now hovers above you. You notice that his shoes and jacket have already tossed messily on the floor. Through his white shirt, you see faint outlines of his sculpted muscles. A slight blush creeps on your cheeks, cursing yourself at your reaction. Caressing your cheeks he leans further down, his plush lips centimeters away from yours. You shut your eyes.

"You're so cute when you try to hide your feelings... When you try to put up that tough act of yours.", you feel his warm breath on your lips. Remaining still with your eyes shut, deciding to not move a muscle. Making a feverish attempt to keep some distance between you both. He chuckles at your attempt, his voice a seductive whisper, "Stop trying to keep a distance between us, my love. You might as well stop fighting. I always get my way." He places peppered kisses along your cheek and down to your neck. You shake your head in protest. He smiles, bringing his face back up to yours. "Just given in, sweetheart. We both know your can't stay strong." His hand trails up your thigh, sending jolts up your spine. "I'll break you easily.", he whispers in your ear, nibbling it gently. You shudder and unsuccessfully shove him away. His breath is hot and damp, without warning, he bites down on your neck, right where it meets your shoulder. "You're making this so much fun, my pet. I didn't think you'd put up this much of a fight." You wince in pain and attempt again to push him away. He's too strong. Chuckling at your feeble shove, he pulls you back in continuing to place kisses on your neck roughly. Wanting you to feel pain, "such a good girl. I'm enjoying this a little too much for what I have planned." Leaning in for another kiss on your neck, but this time, gripping your hips tightly. You hiss through closed teeth, desperate for this to end, but you know that is not going to happen.

His breath is heavy and his fingers knead into your skin as he bites harder. Clear impressions of his teeth leaving their mark. "How far can I go until you break, my darling?", he hums into your neck. Between breaths, "I'll... never..." He smiles. "We'll see about that. There's more than one way to break someone. I can break you mentally, leaving you a begging mess in no time." His breath is heavy as he smiles at you. "But first... we need to get you out of these clothes." Your eyes grow wide as your heart races, "no this can't happen", you thought to yourself as he started to pull at your shirt. He looks down at you, a smirk plastered on his face as his fingers trail up your body, tracing the outlines of your shirt. "Are you getting nervous? Don't worry, just let me do this. You'll find your treat just as sweet afterwards." You turn your head away, unsure of what to do or say. His grin slowly grows as he sees the uncertainty in your eyes. "Such a good girl...", he slips your shirt off and tosses it on the floor. He stares at you for a second, before darting his eyes to your chest. Quickly, you cover yourself with your arms, sealing your eyes shut as you turn your head. No one has seen you like this before.

"Tsk, tsk.", he grabs your arms and moves them away. His eyes trailing up and down your body in almost a predatory way. "Continuing to avoid me? No, no this won't do." His voice sinister as he raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "Do not look away from me." He snarls sternly. You continue to not budge. Pinning you down on the bed. "If you keep trying to close your eyes and hide from me. I'll take that as a sign that you're nervous. And I know how to deal with that sort of behavior..." His hands slide down your midriff and come to a stop at the waist of your pants. "Now, I was going to do this slowly, but I don't think you'll be able to keep your eyes open if I do this quicker." With that he grips the waistline of your pants and slides them off in one swift motion. His eyes never leave your face. You do not back down as you continue to lay there with your eyes shut tight.

"You're really not making this easy, you know?", he says as he slides off your undergarments too. Leaving you completely vulnerable. "So much more fun if you.. just open your eyes." He whispers, reaches his hands down as you involuntarily cover yourself. Grabbing your wrists and separates them both pressing them above your head. You can feel his breath on your skin as he stares at your body. "Are you really going to keep trying to cover yourself?" You scoff. He rolls your head around with his thumb and index finger, trying to find a way to force your eyes open. "Open your eyes, my dear. I want to see your pretty eyes while I'm breaking you." You shake your head, "Make. Me." you retaliate. His eyes widen as you continue to be stubborn. Whispering, his hot breath brushing your ear, "Are you trying to challenge me?" he pauses. "Because I will make you open your eyes one way or another."

Taking both of your wrists in one hand, he grabs your chin again, holding your head down while you lay on the bed. Voice low, "You are really good at resisting. I'm going to have lots of fun with you." As before, he starts his invasion on your neck, his grip tightening on your wrists the longer he kisses you. "I can tell these kisses are making you nervous, but you're going to hate what I have planned next... that is... unless you open your eyes and face me." He notices that you continue your valent attempt to not change course. In your mind, you have accepted defeat, he has got you cornered and there's no escape. Sneering as almost he has read your mind, he trails kisses down your neck, shoulders, and other parts of your body, like a carefully calculated route. Moving down lower and lower with each peck. "You know.. I bet I could use my tongue in a way that'll force one of your pretty eyes open. Would you like that?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Arranged Marriage - Part 2

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Little Wyll/Karlach/Astarion things

Astarion introducing people all, "This is my girlfriend, Karlach. This is her boyfriend, Wyll." gives him a little narrow eyed look, but Wyll is just like...buddy, my star, you were literally sleeping on my chest last night wtf are you on today.

UGH AND THEN the sun, moon, and stars embroidery. IMAGINE OK. Imagine that being for these three. Karlach and Wyll are the light of his day, and he is their light in the darkness of night. He makes a matching one for Wyll while the three are in Avernus together, but time feels less pressing as it did before. It feels like they suddenly have ALL the time in the world, despite Wyll and Karlach still being mortals. The end to their finite time is just not suddenly there on the horizon, waiting to cruelly separate them when they've had so little time together.

Karlach giving Ulder a piece of her mind and having Astarion drag her off bc he can tell Wyll does NOT want this confrontation happening. She's overheated, he can't even touch her bare skin without getting singed, and Wyll just is like. so struck by the fact that she cares so much about him that she refuses to let Ulder act like he didn't abandon his son. It wouldn't be anything bad, but it would be scathing, and end with how happy she is that Ulder and Wyll have been reunited bc Wyll's a REALLY great guy and if you abandon him like that again you'll be talking to me (and she pauses when she feels Astarion poke her to give her a look, and she can just read it) AND fangs

Astarion just crosses his arms and tries to look menacing...which, to his credit, the red eyes and teeth are creepy af, but mostly he just looks bitchy and like he might eat Ulder.

wyll practicing his dancing and inviting them both one night to dance around the campfire. Astarion sits off to the side, content to watch them. Karlach likes to dance, but not in the way Wyll does, so it's awkward at first, then after a few times where her big feet stomp on his toes, he decides to follow her lead instead. He's never danced like that before, but enjoyed every second of it. Before the evening ends, Astarion allows him one single dance just so he can show Karlach what he had been practicing. None of them talk about Astarion dancing with Wyll again. It's a treasured memory, but the two know that's a barred teasing topic (they bust his balls a lot and he just. begrudgingly accepts it, but some topics they KNOW to avoid)

wyll feeling suffocated by mizora one night and just. he's calm as hell, but Astarion notices him sulking first (I hc our resident vamp as the most perceptive at the camp bc of all i think he was doing for Caz). He tries to talk to wyll, but astarion isn't good at not bristling and it's one of those times where wyll just. he's being scathing. he's meeting astarion at astarion's petty level, and astarion is downright impressed.

he's like ????? like he's not even mad. he's just all "who knew the famed blade of frontiers had this nasty side" and he's smirking and it isn't a sexual comment at all but it accidentally does. and him being impressed rather than bristling is what leads to Astarion being the one to be like "ok now that we've had our dick measuring contest, just tell me wtf is going on"

Every time Mizora shows up, Astarion starts running his mouth like an attack chihuahua. Insults, barks, bared teeth, he does NOT like her. Karlach joins him, they play off each other a lot, actually. Like Karlach IS the attack dog, which makes Astarion feel a little more ballsy when he's mouthing off bc he knows any fight he cause WILL be ended with his beautiful gf knocking their ass out.

Wyll spends that night just. completely distraught. he can't even be with karlach and astarion, he asks for time alone to deal with his thoughts, and they respect it. Astarion keeps an eye from a distance, but he and Karlach allow him the space until he's ready for them, then they both move in to comfort him.

Karlach is great at hugs. She holds him and it's so comforting that Wyll finds himself believing it when Astarion is PROMISING that they'll figure it out. Astarion isn't soft in this moment, he certainly isn't kind while comforting Wyll, but he's genuine. Wyll knows Astarion means it when he promises that him and Karlach will be at Wyll's side to help him fight his battles, because like it or not, his battles are theirs to fight as well.

They'd go after Cazador first after Astarion is nearly (or successfully is) kidnapped. Karlach is PISSED, she's raging, ready to burn down the entire palace just to smoke Caz out. Wyll, equally angry, but actually comes up with a really, really good idea. Like he sits everyone down, goes through the battle plan, and Astarion is just so silent the entire time bc he cannot believe these two would rally so hard around him.

This is the point where every time someone is the least bit mean to Wyll, it is ON SIGHT for Astarion. Before, he'd butt in if someone crossed a line he felt shouldn't be crossed, or if it was Ulder or Mizora, but now it's ANYONE. Only he gets to insult his beloved Wyllyam.

Karlach on the docks, saying her goodbyes, holding her heart, her eyes welling with tears as she sees Wyll and Astarion look at her with just. the amount of grief in their eyes. She can't take it. it's the first chip in her resolve that allows them to swoop in and convince her to keep going.

Wyll moves first. Tells her she doesn't have to be alone, she'll have him AND astarion to watch her back. this isn't a convo any of them have had. astarion and wyll both know she'd rather die than go to avernus, but wyll KNOWS Astarion would go there in a heartbeat, and vise versa. they just know each other very very well at this point

So, Wyll is talking to her, Astarion is hiding under his cloak AND Wyll's bc the sun is threatening to burn him alive, but he can't leave Karlach alone. His own skin is cracking with the threat of turning to ash. Wyll holds onto Karlachs' hands, stares into her scared eyes, and she can SEE that he means the promise he makes to her. He will NOT let her be alone in Avernus, if she chooses to return.

Astarion, despite trying to hide from his own imminent death, gives his points. they're quick, not as nicely said as when he has a one on one with her bc he's also trying not to die, but he's more worried about her than he is himself.

Karlach, assured that the two men who vowed to love her to her dying breath, agrees to go to Avernus with them. They have one hell of a bloody time together. It's one of the best chapters in their life stories, after they get Karlach's heart fixed and they're all able to leave Avernus.

All three of them finally free of the bonds of servitude, they're able to explore the world. They're free to go where they wish, free to love who they wish, and free to finally choose their own paths and futures, though their choices will always involve being together.

[gyllenhaalstories]

LEG LOCK — ELWOOD DALTON 🏆

summary: happy international women’s day! let’s celebrate by getting absolutely wrecked by this this man who was sculpted by the gods.

warnings: i know nothing about the ufc, curse words, smut (the pet name doll is used, degradation, mild nipple play, worship kink, size difference* kink, marking, dacryphilia, blowjob & throat fucking, mild CNC, throatpie, choking, 69, pussy eating, fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4465

photo credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: *you do not need to be smaller than him, size kink applies to all heights & weights. when road house comes out, let’s all disregard the fact that my portrayal of dalton will most likely be so far off, okay? okay. i want to give a big shoutout to @jakegooglyeyes​ for the ideas, i had to steal them to make this fic as filthy as possible. ❤️ thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“Come here, doll.” Dalton abandoned the magnificent view of the Vegas Strip he had from this hotel suite to turn his head in your direction. A couple of floors higher than where you were residing for the duration of the event and you would have your heads in the clouds. “I need you to show me how much you missed me.”

You walked from across the room, silk bathrobe wrapped around your body from when Dalton left to prepare for the fight and you relaxed in the tub that sat between the living and the bed rooms. Bath time was cut short, your eyes had been glued to the television screen while you watched the fight that ended incredibly quickly. In a blink of an eye, you got a text from your man indicating he was on his way (or so you assumed with the series of emojis he sent you, including an eggplant followed by droplets of sweat), then you heard knocking at the door.

The rest happened just as quickly, he replaced the hot and foamy water of the bath by cold one in which he dumped bucket after bucket of ice cubes to chill his worked up body. He hopped out of the ice bath and barely covered himself with a matching bathroom. He was still wearing the same compression shorts as from the fight, cup and all. A few glasses of electrolyte drinks, a pain killer as a safety measure and he was ready to go. His shorts were still damp. He was not playing.

You made your way to Dalton and wrapped your arms around his muscular shoulders. You had praised him enough, he could catch a break from all the ego inflation and try to get in touch with reality instead — with your help, of course. “You’re asking for a lot.” You smirked and pulled him in for a kiss. “You weren’t gone for a long time.”

“You’re so silly.” He mirrored your smirk as his tongue brushed over his teeth that had been covered by an official UFC branded mouth guard during the fight. His hands found their usual place at the small of your back. “I’m not asking, baby doll.” He rubbed his hands up and down on your back, surprising you when you felt some kind of pressure against your shoulders that was pushing you down.

You wanted to tell him he was needy, that he could enjoy the rest of his night and drop the bad boy act for an hour or two. You wanted to tell him you were still sore from a few days ago when he fucked you like it would be the last time, that he could wait a little longer. Your head wanted to tell him many things, your body, however, was only saying one thing.

His left hand was resting on top of your head, helping you go lower and lower until you dropped to your knees like the ‘good fucking girl’ you were. He gave you just enough freedom to take your time and leave a trail of kisses that started from his puffy pecs.

You traced the shape of them with your tongue before you gentle wrapped your lips around his small nipples. You flicked your tongue over the sensitive buds, drawing soft whimpers out of him. You gave his other nipple the same treatment and glanced at Dalton quickly, catching him as he was lolling his head back from the feeling of your warm mouth on his cold, hard nipples. You continued to paint his body with open mouthed kisses all the way down the small valley between his hard abs.

His eyes rolled backwards when you reached his Adonis belt — his sweet spot. His grip on your head loosened, you knew you were pushing all the right buttons. He would never get enough of you worshipping him. Whether it was with your words, your hands or your mouth; he soaked it all up and let it spark fireworks through his body. All those kisses and touches only made him even more aroused, pumping blood to his constricted cock.

Your kisses lingered on each side of his waist, making sure to suck just long enough to leave marks that were darker than his tanned skin. You gently licked over the groove of the muscle until you noticed a wet spot on his skin. You kept going until both sides looked bruised, unlike the rest of body. He left the octagon pretty much intact after the victory by knock out.

“I fucking knew it.” You raised your eye brows, looking up to meet Dalton’s darkened blue eyes. “You missed me.” He chuckled, satisfied by how you were treating him. He felt special a lot of the time, especially when cameras and spotlights followed his every movement on the stage while he threw punches at his opponents. However, nothing could compare with the way you made him feel like the king of the world.

From your position, down on the floor, he could absolutely pass as a king. He looked tall, impressive — intimidating. Dalton was towering over you and enjoying himself while he did it. You let your hands explore his toned legs, noticing how some muscles twitched under your touch. You continued to cover his lower abdomen with kisses and hickeys until you, too, got impatient enough to feel the urge to rip the shorts off his body.

Dalton’s arms moved out of the way after he let the bathrobe fall to his feet. He arched his back just enough to push his crotch impossibly closer to your face. He clicked his tongue as some imaginary clock was ticking as well. You needed to hurry up.

You squeezed your thumbs between his hips and the waist band of his shorts. You leaned your head on the hand was now caressing your cheek while you pulled down on the bottoms until he could easily step out of them. You discarded the damp fabric and let him adjust to the freedom. Your eyes widened with excitement — and hunger — as you watched his cock twitch and throb before you.

When you opened your mouth, awfully slow in his opinion, he quickly guided himself to the hole you were presenting. He barely gave you time to stick your tongue out that the tip of his cock was pushing deep in your mouth, a grunt of relief escaped his open mouth. “Been thinking of that mouth of yours all fucking day.”

You gagged around him, hands gripped on the smooth skin of his waxed legs. The trick that said to squeeze your thumb inside your hand had long stopped working for you. Dalton liked it rough — no stupid tricks could save you. You moaned around him and tried to bop your head back and forth to coat his veiny length with spit. You opened your eyes for a split second, meeting with his intense gaze while tears already started to pool and threaten to fall down your face.

“Gonna make yourself look all pretty for me, doll?” He started to thrust his hips, refusing to follow the pace you were setting. He wanted to feel you, all of you. He would not stop until he got what he wanted. His hands met on your head, he was already locking his fingers together.

Your eyes widened with fear and a small scream got stuck in your throat. You pulled away — while you still had time — to take as many deep breaths as he would let you.

“Answer me.” Dalton ordered.

“Yes. So pretty,” you obeyed, panting. “Just how you like it.”

“Just how I love it.” He corrected you with an arched brow. He guided your head to his crotch again. “Make yourself cry on my cock, baby.”

You nodded frantically and opened your mouth, jaw relaxed with your tongue out, already begging to taste more of his precum. Slowly, you took him in. Inch by inch, you adjusted to the size and weight of him against your tongue. You pushed your head as far as you could take it and pulled away. You spit on his cock and tried again and again, building speed and rhythm that made Dalton grunt of pleasure.

Whether you were moaning or whining around his cock, he did not care. He enjoyed the vibrations too much to stop and let you speak. With his hands on your head, he helped you move back and forth despite the strings of saliva that dripped down your chin and despite the tears that streamed down your face. He made you look up at him, and he could have finished right here and there in your mouth as he took in the sight.

It was messy. You looked so messy. Spit and tears had fallen down on your exposed breasts. You, too, were no longer wearing the silky bathrobe and it made him want to cover your whole body with various marks. Hickeys, spit, cum — whatever he could come up with to mark you as his, he would do it. And you would let him. Happily.

“Oh, doll,” Dalton chuckled in between moaning. “How could I not want to ruin you when you look so beautiful for me?” He gripped on your hair a bit, anchoring you down on his cock to keep you in place while he kept going with the dirty talk. “Let me hear your cute noises when you choke on me. Don’t fucking hold back.”

So, you did just that... Not that you had a choice, really. Dalton had taken over control of your strokes. All you could do was take it and let him hear how much you liked it. You reached to touch your neck and felt the size of the bulge his cock was creating in your throat. It hurt so bad. Your throat was hurting from the intense fucking, your eyes were hurting from the relentless crying and your knees were hurting from your position. You did not know what you should focus on.

Dalton figured it out for you as he made you hold his cock in your throat again. You could swear you felt him throb in your mouth, and judging by how he pulled your head away from him, he felt it too. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He laughed, his chest rising up and down from his breathing. “You’re so greedy, baby. You want me to cum already?”

“Yes, yes, please! You sounded so adorable when you begged.

“Nah,” He walked away from you, towards the bed. “You don’t deserve it yet.”

You put your palms on the floor and crawled on all fours, following him.

He fell on the bed, heavily, with a loud groan. The mattress curved under his weight and he waited until you were kneeling by his feet again. He reached his knee up to your chin — the same one he used to knock his opponent out for good — and made your head tilt up to look at him. “You good?”

You nodded and resisted the urge to wipe your face clean. It was uncomfortable. It was degrading.

He adored it. “Use your words.”

“I’m good.” You sounded confident enough to earn gentle taps of the back of his hand against your cheek.

Without losing anymore time, Dalton pushed you back down on his cock. Deeper than before. Deeper than he had done it in a long time.

You coughed and choked and gagged — a symphony of sounds that only got him craving for more. He could not move his hips a lot from this sitting position, so his expert hands did all the work for him.

The more you were fighting back, audibly yet incoherently begging for mercy, the deeper he was fucking your throat.

You could not even open your eyes, all you did was try and grab at anything you could reach to try and hold you back from running away from his cock. Not that you wanted to, it was just reflexes sending alarms to your brain to stop the torture. But it felt too good, but you wanted him too much.

He noticed you managed to slide your hands between his thick thighs and the bed, keeping you in place but also making it so that your head was at the perfect position. More back and forth, more strokes of your head on his sensitive cock and he made you stop moving.

Inside of your mouth, you twirled your tongue around his tip, while also trying to breathe as best as you could, guessing he was getting close and that the end was near. You were working hard to earn his release, to earn yours too so you could extinguish the fire burning inside of your lungs. You could have never guessed what he was about to do.

With impressive balance, Dalton leaned back and lifted his legs. First, he moved each leg on each side of your arms. He kept going, rather slowly, until his legs reached your shoulders. His feet were now hovering your back, heels pressing between your shoulder blades. Dalton crossed his feet together and erased the distance between his thighs — between his thighs and your head.

Soon enough, you felt the muscles of his thighs on each side of your face. Your eyes widened with surprise, with a hint of fear too. He stopped tightening until you were in a solid leg lock you could not escape. Well, you could, but that meant you would lose the privilege of feeling his cock in your mouth and that was much too high of a price to pay. The pressure of your position, locked between his legs and his cock, made you dizzy. That paired with the cruel lack of oxygen, it felt like you were choking without the feeling of his rough hand around your neck.

Dalton moved his feet, pushing his cock so far down your throat that you could not even physically gag around him, all that was left for you was to continue sobbing and to “Take it, take my fucking cock!” He grunt, nose scrunched and lips curled back. “The more you cry, the less I wanna let you go.”

Your eyelids started to feel heavy and your fists let go of the sheets you were strongly holding on to. Your hands travelled to the outside of his thighs were his muscles were bulging with the effort.

“You’re my perfect little doll.” He reminded you of your metaphorical position, just a toy for him to use until he unleashed all of his pleasure inside you. He also reminded you of your literal position, his feet digging against your spine to the point it started to hurt.

You gave three quick taps to his right thigh.

He smiled down at you, eyes and expression darkened with his lust. He bit on his lower lip while the pleasure was building dangerously big in his core.

You tapped him again as you started to squirm inside the fatal leg lock. You gathered all the strength you had to look up at him.

At the moment your eyes met, he shot his load of cum deep in your throat. Dalton came in many ropes of cum that you swallowed instinctively, not that you could do anything about it. He was lodged so deep inside of you that he forced you to take him and his cum until he was finished.

Boy, that first breath of fresh air felt even better than watching your man win fights after fights, belts after belts. Dalton freed you of the leg lock and pushed on your forehead to get you off him. Your knees gave in under you and you sat down with each leg caging you in. You were seeing dark spots and colours, or maybe that was the bruise on the knee he used to fly on his opponent’s face. It was hard to tell. And it was hard to think.

His chest was reddened from the force of his orgasm, his cock was a slobbery mess of spit that dripped down to his balls and the floor. Your chin was dripping too, but neither of you had it in you to clean up. If only he had thought of filming you being the best slut in this goddamn world for him. His right hand held his cock, trying to stop the twitching. His left hand stretched towards you with his fist closed. He smile when you bumped your fist against it.

“Thank you.” You whispered, more like mouthed. Your throat felt so sore that the vibrations of your voice were painful.

“You have such good manners, baby girl.” He was now cradling your head in both of his hands, not so accidentally smearing more of your spit over your face. “I trained you good.”

Your hands reached up to your jaw and you massaged each side of it lightly.

In the meantime, Dalton pushed himself further on the bed and laid down, squeezing a pillow under his head to prop himself up. He used his pointer and middle fingers in a come hither motion, ordering you to get on bed with him.

You happily obliged, definitely needing some recovery time after the roughness with which he had fucked your mouth. You both laughed when he saw just how much you were struggling to lift yourself off the floor, so he offered you a strong arm to hold on to and he pulled you up on your shaky legs.

Dalton clicked his tongue in disapproval when he understood you were trying to lay down next to him. “Who said I was done? I certainly did not.” He had you on your tired knees again, pulling you down so your faces were closer and he could kiss your swollen and spit covered lips. One of his hands travelled down your body, down to your pussy that had been left untouched this whole time.

You watched him, watching you. His eyebrows moved in funny ways and his jaw dropped while his fingers dipped between your soaked folds. You moaned softly when he smeared your wetness over your clit, the outside of your pussy and even your inner thighs that were just as messy as the rest.

“If you want us to stop...” He interrupted his sentence with a rough kiss that he ended by pulling on your bottom lip. “Why is this pretty pussy so wet for me?”

You failed to come up with any clever response, instead you let your moans and whimpers speak for themselves.

He slapped ever so lightly your pussy, making you flinch at his touch. “Come on, baby. I need to taste you.” He stretched his arm out to catch you as you tried, again, to lay down. “Not like that. I want you to sit on my face.”

You glanced at him quizzically. You were exhausted — definitely more exhausted than the man who had one of the most critical fights of his career just a few hours ago. You failed to choose between rest and pleasure.

So Dalton picked for you. He manhandled you around, helping you climb on top of his head in the position he wanted you in. You were on top of him, your core just a few inches away from his mouth and you were facing the rest of his body. His cock was still hard, throbbing with the need to be touched by you again. He wrapped his arms around your legs and forced you down on him.

At first, you felt his tongue that was poking out of his mouth. He licked over and through your folds, teasing your clit that he sucked on for a few minutes. Then, you flinched again as his tongue poked at your entrance. He switched between licking and sucking, so that you could warm up to the familiar pleasure that his mouth procured you. With goosebumps all over your skin, and his tongue abruptly entering you, you fell forward and your face met with his cock again.

He was not the smartest man, but when it came to having his way with you, Dalton would always come up with a reason or an idea to get his dick wet and preferably buried in your holes. It did not matter which one, as long as he was inside you, he felt like a champion.

You caved in to the urge of feeling his cock again, of tasting it and of worshipping him more than you already had. You leaned on your hands that were digging in the mattress of the hotel bed. You bopped your head up and down on his length, taking your time to feel every part of him. You wrapped your lips tight around his tip, feeling how it stretched you out. You licked over the bulging veins of his cock, moaning along with him when he let out noises against your core.

Dalton planted his feet on the bed, legs spread open to give you space. He would soon tip over the point of overstimulation, but you felt way too good to tell you to stop. He focused on you, on tasting you and on pulling the sweetest sounds out of you. And then, he jerked his hips forward.

You choked on his cock and coughed.

He sucked on your clit to make you forget about it. He did it again, replacing whatever reaction you had with more waves of pleasure that built up at the bottom of your tummy. He played this game for a little while until he could not stop himself anymore. He fucked your mouth, the more you drooled — the deeper and the harder he fucked it. Simultaneously, he pushed his tongue in your pussy and swallowed all of you, moaning at your taste.

You pulled your head away from him, a small scream emanated from you when you felt your hole being stretched by a thick finger. You mumbled a few curse words that earned you a second digit inside of you. Was it a reward or a punishment? You had no idea, other than it felt amazing and it made the whole night worth it, from the sobbing to the lack of breathing. When you adjusted to the blissful pain of the stretching, you continued to suck him off, focusing on the swollen, red tip of his cock.

He was not having any of it. Dalton clenched his abs, fought his own tiredness and sensitivity and fucked your mouth hard. His fingers matched the pace, pushing in and out of you fast and deep. “Attagirl,” He grunted. “ So damn hot.” he praised you and stilled his hips so that his cock was hitting the back of your throat and you struggled around him. “Love the way you clench around me when you’re choking on my cock.” You gagged as an answer. “Makes you tighter.”

Sounds of protest failed to provide you with any mercy, he was fucking your mouth and your pussy like he owned them. Which he did, and he was making sure you would remember that you belonged to him for many days to come.

He felt you coming. He felt you clenching even tighter on his fingers to the point he struggled to move them at all. He kissed and nibbled some more on the skin of your inner thighs that were squeezing his head just like his own thighs had squeezed yours. Quickly he focused on sucking your swollen clit into his mouth and moaning against it.

And you felt him cumming in your mouth for the second time that night. Your orgasms lingered together, grunts and moans melted into each other as you both tried to drag the wave of euphoria for as long as you could ride it.

Much to your surprise, Dalton was the one to tap out. He was squirming under you before you had time to swallow every drop of his seed.

You carefully licked what had fallen on his abs and pelvis until you cleaned him up. At the same time, he stopped sucking on your clit to lick you clean with a flat tongue and wait as you released his fingers from your grip. He sucked them in his mouth and released them with an audible pop.

He granted you with the permission to, finally, lay down on the comfortable bed. Your head rested by his hip as his rested by your thighs. His fingertips gently caressed your skin, not even minding that you were sweaty just like him. “Doll?”

You hummed in response, too tired to lift your head and look at him. Instead, you admired the view that you had from your spot, all cozied up against his body. Your eyes were not close, but not wide open either. You appreciated the quite blurry appearance of his puffy abs and v-line, of the curve of his hips, and of how his torso was rising and falling down to the rhythm of his breathing. You tried to match his deep breaths and slow releases.  

“You’re fucking amazing.” He turned his head to plant a few kisses on your thighs, smoothing over the spots where he had been gripping hard on you.

“I know.” You chuckled along with him.

You both agreed you would clean up later. The rest could wait, not everything though — Dalton was already looking forward to wreak havoc with room service.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” You let him take a power nap next to you while you replayed the events of the night in your head. “El’?”

He leaned on his elbows so that he could look at you. You were so beautiful, fucked out of your mind like that. No wonder why his phone lock screen was a picture of your post orgasm glow. He noticed you were smirking. He carried the reputation of being a straight up pain in the ass. You helped with keeping him balanced and somewhat sound of mind. But he loved the way you matched his crazy just as well as you kept him grounded. That push and pull game of feeding into his unhinged antics and keeping his feet not too far up from the ground was one of his favourite things.

“That was so much fun.” You let out a sigh. He responded with a content “Yeah, I know”.

“I was thinking of something...” You refrained from pointing out it was an usual event for him to use his brain to do the thinking rather than his fists — or his cock. “What other battle moves can I practice on you next time?”

[the-really-lonely-mountain]

Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the first part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too detailed, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), this chapter is domestic as hell, sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it

Word Count: 4,977

A/N: Hey y'all!! It's been a crazy couple of months let me tell ya! good god! I've decided to finally post the next part of the story to tumblr despite it not having been beta read. I'll use you guys as my guinea pigs lol so if you see anything that doesn't make sense or is spelled wrong, I'm begging you to please tell me. I can't wait to hear what you think about my pride and joy! <3

Image credit: @iamjaynaemarie

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

The company climbed down the tall rock into the forest below. Having rested on the long flight over, everyone was prepared for a day of walking. Nothing notable happened except innocent conversation to pass the time and the forging of grapes with Bilbo for a snack.

The sun dipped closer to the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. Thorin found a small river to make camp nearby. Gloin made the fire then Bombur started cooking the food. While the stew was being made, Fili and Kili practiced their swordsmanship under the watchful eyes of Thorin and Dwalin to provide guidance. The dwarves had found a log and brought it over beside the fire. You knelt in the grass on the fire’s side parallel to the log. The others were leaning against it on the opposite side, smoking pipes and making jokes and commentary about the training. You pulled out your thread spools and measured out the first color. You realized you didn’t have scissors and asked the merry gathering in front of you if they did.

“Nah lass,” Dori said, “Our weapons aren’t sharp enough to cut thread, they’ll only fray it” He kicked Nori to quiet him when he started to protest the quality of his weapons, “You’ll want to ask Thorin to borrow his sword.”

You swallowed thickly and looked over at the man in question where he stood with his arms crossed next to Dwalin. He always intimated you but approaching him alone to ask a favor made anxiety spike straight through you.

They were several feet away, but the clanging of metal was still quite loud. The brothers had removed their shirts, as men often did, to escape the insulated heat it provided. Not that you were complaining, eye candy is always welcome in a world of forests and furs.

You timidly approached the taller man as he instructed the brothers. You waited till they started fighting again to say in a shy voice: “Um Thorin?”

He glanced at you to acknowledge your inquisition, “Yes, what is it?” He sounded impatient.

“May I please borrow your sword?” You pointed to the weapon strapped to his side, “I need it to cut some thread” You tried not to sound as scared and skittish as you felt. He looked at you blankly for a moment, surprised by your question.

Kili threw his brother back several feet, allowing him a few seconds to turn to you with a confident smile.

“Hey Y/N,” Kili said, making you and Thorin look at him. You couldn’t help but smile and sheepishly blush as you tried not to ogle his ripped upper body dripping in sweat.

“Hi Kili” you swayed back and forth a little without realizing it. Thorin took note of your fond reaction to his nephew.

Fili let out a mighty roar as he jumped on the back of his brother, taking advantage of his distraction. The dwarves on the log laughed and you giggled at them as they goaded each other on.

“I’ve got you now brother!” Fili triumphantly exclaimed.

“I think not!” Kili replied with a strong thrusting attack.

Thorin sighed, “Very well” He untied his sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to you. You thanked him and began walking back to your previous spot. He looked at the line of dwarves who were still chuckling lightly against the log, “Make sure she doesn’t kill herself” he said to them. They all nodded, including Balin who found this ironic remembering their conversation about leaving you in Rivendell. It would seem the dwarf king was taking a liking to you.

You kneeled, unsheathed the great Goblin Cleaver a few inches, and positioned the hilt between your knees, so it stayed standing on its spine. You measured 7 lengths of thread at about three feet and rubbed them against the fine elfin blade which cut them in one pass to make makeshift embroidery thread. You repeated that 5 times to end up with two groups of pink, two groups of blue, and one group of black thread. You did your best to keep them separated as you bunched them together to fold them in half and tie a loop at the end that you could hook onto a button of your coat. You sheathed the sword and returned it to Thorin knowing he wouldn’t like being without his weapon. You sat on the side of the log with everyone else and secured your coat in your lap so you could pull taught against the threads. You separated the threads and began knotting them over and across each other like how you learned to make friendship bracelets at summer camp. It gave your hands something to do as you sat idly watching the boys trash talk then turn serious and start fighting again.

“What are ya makin’ Y/N?” Ori asked as he watched you.

“I’m making a bracelet” You replied, pleased to see the others taking an interest in your crafting.

“Why’s that lass?” Bifur leaned over to see what you were doing exactly.

“So I can eventually make one for everyone else” You explained how it’s a tradition of sorts in your world to make bracelets for those you care about as a show of kinship and the enduring strength of your friendship and bond. “Since I can’t fight beside you all on the battlefield yet, I thought this could be another way I show my commitment to the company” You smiled at the group. You’d grown very fond of them during your travels and hoped they enjoyed your company as much as you did theirs.

“That’s a very sweet tradition, Y/N,” Balin said, “We look forward to receiving your gifts” The rest of the dwarves confirmed it with ‘Aye’s and a strong nod of the head.

“Supper!” Bombur called while stirring the pot. Everyone got in line except the training group who was going one last round. You all sat down in your previous spots along the log to see the finale of the night’s training.

You finished your dinner quickly so you could take advantage of the distracted troublemakers as well as the river on the other side of the hill. You grabbed your bag and told Gandalf you were going to the river to wash up. You knew he’d keep an eye on the dwarf who often followed you like a puppy and missed you when you weren’t by his side.

You see, Kili had to share most of his things with his brother; toys, motherly attention, food, and this included the women he was interested in. They usually fell for Fili because he was more mature, older, and looked more dwarfish than Kili who had very fine features for a dwarf and was five years younger than his brother. He initially assumed it would happen again with you, so when you didn’t show any interest in his brother, only in him, he couldn’t put into words how happy it made him.

At the river’s edge, you placed your bag and makeshift towel (your shirt from your old world) on a rock and took off your clothes. The water was chilly but nothing a sit by the fire couldn’t fix. You washed your hair and body with the elfish soap you got in Rivendell. As you rinsed in the steady current of the water your thoughts began to wander to what Gandalf said about your predicament.

You felt pulled to Kili, he brought comfort and calmness to a feeling you didn’t even know was in need. His smile and his laugh, every memory and moment you made and shared with the handsome prince of Erebor begged you to stay in Middle Earth.

It was decided then.

When you stood to squeeze the water from your hair you noticed the sun was beginning to set. The others would want to bathe too, or at the very least wash their hands. You dried off and dressed and took a deep breath to enjoy the welcomed privacy one last time.

You reappeared beside the wizard, “Thank you, Gandalf, that was very much needed” You sat next to him on the ground in front of the fire to warm up. “I may be traveling with brutes, but I needn’t smell like one” You joked. He chuckled over his pipe at this.

“I’ve decided to stay here Gandalf.” You informed him. “Something about this place is calling me to stay.” You needn’t tell him about the intense pull to Kili, right?

“Splendid my dear,” He smiled fondly at your decision. “I’m sure you’ll find Middle earth rather agreeable.”

You smiled up at him, happy to have his support.

The boys were still going at it. Kili was making a great effort, but Fili got the upper hand, making Kili’s sword fly out of his hand and sail through the air to stick in the ground. Kili kept fighting though, trying to get Fili’s sword from him. Fili had to force him to the ground with his arms pinned before Kili surrendered.

“Good job lads, good work,” Thorin said as he helped them up. Coins were exchanged against the log from the bets the company members made. The boys started walking towards their bags, but Kili swerved at the last moment to approach you. Your hair was still slightly damp from the river, so it was obvious you’d just bathed. Being the mischievous sweaty dirt-covered mess he was, Kili held his arms out to you for a hug. You watched him in horror as he continued to walk towards you.

“Ew, no Kili stop!” You held your hand up to stop him but to no avail.

“Awe Y/N, just one hug?” Kili pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

You quickly stood and laugh a little at his persistence, “Don’t you fucking dare!” you said and dashed away.

“Come on Y/N, no need to play hard to get!” Kili strained as he chased you around the log and back toward your bags.

“Aaahh!” You made a sharp turn to narrowly avoid a grimy Fili, who stepped in your path, the little shit. This closed the gap so Kili could grab your arm and pull you toward him.

“Nonononononono!” you pleaded as he wrapped his beefy arms around your shoulders, making sure to rub his sweaty dirty face against your hair and pet the side of your face with his equally dirty hand. “Kili!” you drew out the last syllable in complaint.

“You smell so good” He had the nerve to say.

“You smell like Ori’s unwashed socks!” You pushed at his chest still trying to get away. Everyone chuckled at this. “Get off me, ya big olaf” you managed to wriggle out of his grasp, “I’m not coming anywhere near you till you bathe,” you said dead serious, and pointed to the river.

“As you wish” Kili bowed with a smirk, he grabbed his bag on his way to the river to join his brother. You sat in your by the fire with a small smile that seemed permanent whenever you were around him.

You were working on your bracelet when the brothers returned. The sun had dipped below the horizon making darkness seep into the crevasses of the world. Kili sat behind you on the same long stone Gandalf was perched on and touched the ends of your miraculously dry hair (the elvish soap is magic idk). You stiffened at the unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome contact.

“Can I braid your hair Y/N?” he asked innocently as pink dusted his cheeks. You whipped around aggressively, pulling your hair out of his hand in the process.

“No cause you’re just going to get it all tangled and I’m going to have to spend all night brushing it out!” You weren’t looking forward to that, you thought he was just trying to prank you. Kili’s pout was as cute as ever.

“My dear,” Gandalf budded in before Kili could sulk away, “Braiding hair in dwarfish culture is similar to your tradition of making bracelets for friends, but they take it much more seriously.”

“How much more seriously?” You asked, intrigued about the nature of Kili proposition.

“It’s like…” The wizard took a draw from his pipe while he thought of the words to properly explain it to you, “asking someone to dance, it’s special and a more intimate way of getting to know someone.”

“So, like a date?” You tilted your head in question. You understood his analogy; braiding allows both people to show their level of craftsmanship and commitment, with the added benefit of practicality and looking very nice in the end when done with love and care.

“A bit” Gandalf smiled at your naiveite, “Just know our dear Kili is not trying to prank you when he asks to braid your hair, quite the opposite” He took another draw from his pipe and looked back at the fire.

“In that case, you may braid my hair Kee” You flipped your hair back over your shoulder. You couldn’t see the beaming smile that grew on his handsome face. You dug through your bag to find the hairbrush and other trinkets from Rivendell which you handed to Kili. He kept them in his lap while he brushed your hair. If he came across a knot, he was sure to be incredibly gentle. You enjoyed the physical contact and attention very much.

“Any requests?” He asked sounding confident in his abilities.

“Whatever you think would look best” You couldn’t help but smile a little.

He used your brush to part your hair down the middle. He started braiding at your nape closest to the part. After that you didn’t pay very much attention to what he was doing, instead just relished the experience.

He finished one side and secured it with a bead from your stash, “How’s that feel, too tight?”, he asked and adjusted pieces here and there to make it lay perfectly.

“It feels great!” You chirped happily. You reached a hand to feel what he’d done so far but he shooed it away.

“Not yet, you’ll ruin the surprise!” He started working on the other side.

By the time he was done, you were so relaxed you’d almost fallen asleep on his leg.

“Done!” he said, you could tell he was very pleased with his work, “How do you like it?” He sounded a bit nervous.

You ran your fingers over the braids, feeling how they turned and curved at certain points and went straight in others.

“Kili this is amazing!” You said, very happy with the state of your hair. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you!” You looked back at him with a smile that was as big as his.

“I’m afraid I can't properly reciprocate though, I don’t know how to braid hair like this, I can only do normal braids.” You regretted never having learned how to French braid now more than ever. “If that’s how this works” You quickly corrected in a slight panic.

He was elated you wanted to return his deed at all, “That’s fine!” He tried not to sound too excited and be cool about it, “I can teach you if you want” he offered.

“I’d appreciate that!” You smiled.

You switched places, so he was sitting between your legs facing the fire. The position was innocent, but his thoughts were anything but. Images of your face beautifully contorted in pleasure from his tongue exploring your most private and intimate parts were most welcomed.

“May I take this out?” you lightly touched the silver clip that held his hair out of his face.

“Sure” He happily shrugged. You dug through his brown hair where the clasp was supposed to be, but your trembling hands couldn’t find it in all his hair.

After he heard you huffing and puffing and hadn’t felt his hair fall from the clip he asked in a soft voice, “Do you need help?”

“Yes,” you sighed, embarrassed you couldn’t even get a damn clip undone. He reached back, and struggled for a few seconds but undid the clasp, and handed it to you.

While you brushed his hair you thought of what you should do to it, or more what you could do with his hair given your limited abilities. You brushed through a few knots if any.

“I think I know what I want to try to do,” You touched the sides of his head just above his temple, “I want to do two small braids on the sides of your head, but I want the topmost part of your hair not to be braided.”

“Let’s try it!” He explained how you needed to part the hair and how to get started. You had his head lying against your thigh in an admittedly awkward and uncomfortable position, but he was quite the trooper. You had to restart the first braid three times but, in the end, he talked you through it and you tied it off with a bead.

“How did you learn to braid so well” you asked, struggling to grip all the pieces of the second braid properly and not pull the strands out of his head.

“My mother was insistent I learned. She knew my brother would have no trouble learning this facet of courting, but she feared I would spend all my time shooting arrows and never learn how to properly court girls.” He talked fondly of the memories, “So one summer when I was about to come of age, I came home from running amuck every day and she’d sit me down at her tapestry’s and make me braid the tassels that ran around the border.”

“Were you any good?” You asked curiously.

“Oh yes, I was very good! For a while, I was even better than Fili!” He was very proud of that.

“Why did he get better than you? Lean forward please,” you politely asked.

“He’s quite the lady’s man, so he had plenty of girls to practice on,” Kili sounded like that brought up memories that weren’t very pleasant. You finished the second braid with a bead like the first.

“Lay your head down for me again” You softly asked, gingerly guiding his head to lay against your other thigh, “Awe, baby Kili didn’t get any coochie did he” You fake pouted to tease him, gently scratching his scalp absentmindedly while you rested your neck for a moment. He liked it, more than he’d care to admit. “I’m in the same boat I’m afraid” You parted the other side of his hair.

“Oh? How so?” He was very surprised by this, “I’d have thought men were practically throwing themselves at you.” This made you laugh and blush.

“I’m awfully flattered you think that highly of me…” You took a moment to focus on a particularly difficult part, “But men from my world didn’t talk to me.”

“I find that completely unbelievable.” He was floored by this.

“I’m serious! I was never asked out on a date and the few times I asked for someone’s number they turned out to be self-centered losers with a ton of issues” You hated how much time you’d wasted on them. He couldn’t wrap his head around that and had to hold his tongue from proclaiming his thoughts of your perfection.

He turned to look at you despite your protests, “Then they are truly blind,” He couldn’t have been more sincere. His eyes blazed in the firelight with a mix of ferocity and sadness on your behalf.

“Thank you, Kee,” You smiled at him. He assumed his previous position so you could end the braid with a bead like the two before and then started on the last one, “And those silly girls are truly blind as well.” You wanted to kiss his slightly flushed cheek.

You were both in your own little world, where the troubles of the outside couldn’t get to you…or the onlookers and peanut gallery for that matter. Gandalf had moved to sit with the company who had been watching from across the fire on the other side of the log since Kili finished your first braid. They couldn’t quite hear your conversation, but they knew their beloved Kili was having the time of his life.

Fili was very proud of his brother. He talked about you all the time, was looking at you all the time; the man was whipped. Fili had to hear about you the entire time he was bathing, poor thing, and he finally got fed up with his brother not making a move.

“Kili, just ask to braid her hair for god’s sake” Fili huffed while he waited for his brother to finish in the river. Kili’s eyes lit up like a forge with the breath from bellows, and his face flushed like he did when he hammered out a new blade.

“I think I will,” Kili nodded, distracted by thoughts of engaging in such an informal and somewhat intimate act.

Thorin was very pleased you were trying to repay his nephew’s advances in equal measure. He’d seen the poor boy flounder with crushes in the past as he tended to be immature, and girls mistook that for uncaring and unable to provide. Something about you brought out the best in his nephew though, he’d never seen him act so mature, for this Thorin was willing to stay some of his distrust and pessimistic opinions about outsiders, at the very least about you.

By the time you finished the last braid, Kili had made himself very comfortable against your leg, with his arm wrapped around your calf, fidgeting with the laces of your boot. He looked so tranquil you hesitated to tell him you’d finished, not ready to leave the sanctuary you were in. You leaned back against your hand while you stared into the fire and gently scratched the nape of his neck.

He hummed half asleep, “Mmm that feels good,” His words were a little slurred, but it made him all the cuter.

You stayed like that till your bottom began to protest the hard rock beneath you. He was right on the cusp of sleep when you shook your leg beneath him, gentle with guilt.

“Kili, I gotta get up,” You softly tried to rouse him. He hummed in protest. “Besides, don’t you want to know how the braids turned out?” You admired your work with pride.

He sat up and stretched to wake his muscles then ran a hand over his new braids, “Wow Y/N! These are so good!” He looked back at you impressed, “You picked up on that fast!”

“Thanks, Kee!” You blushed as you ran a hand over the intricate lines in your hair, “They aren’t half as good as yours, but I think I did great for my first time” You smiled, pleased with yourself.

“Come show us!” someone from the log called, followed by various iterations of the same thing from others. Ever supportive, they were eager to see what you’d both made.

Kili stood and you followed him to the log. You turned so he could show off his creation. The dwarves were very impressed, a few coming up to inspect closer. When Kili turned to show your work, the company was even more impressed given it was your first time.

“Next time you’ll have to make beads for her, Kee” Fili teased making him and Bofur laugh at how Kili blushed.

“Make beads? What does that mean?” You asked the group in confusion.

“You’ll understand when the time comes,” Thorin said in an uncharacteristically happy tone. “For now, we shall rest” With that everyone began prepping their bedding for the night.

You laid your bed roll beside Kili’s like usual, but Bombur reminded you to clean the dishes before they were put away. Gandalf accompanied you so you could see with the light of his staff. Everyone was asleep when you returned to camp, except Thorin who was on watch.

When you sat on your bedroll, which was naturally next to Kili’s, he looked up at you, barely awake with a dopey smile.

“You look so pretty,” he said quietly, drawing out the last syllable of pretty. Red bloomed over your cheeks and down your neck. He loved your hair like that, he loved it even more that he was the one who did it.

“Go to sleep, Kee,” You whispered so you didn’t wake the others, but couldn’t help but smile as you lay on your bedroll next to him.

“But then I can’t look at you” He pouted, quite distraught about this revelation in his sleepy daze.

“Well, no, I suppose you can’t…” You nibbled your bottom lip as you thought of a solution, “Would holding hands appease you, sleepy prince?” you asked and held out the hand that wasn’t cuddling your coat to your chest. He was too out of it to catch your nickname for him. He nodded and held your hand in his, making both your hearts beat just a little faster.

You closed your eyes and rubbed your face against your coat to find a comfortable position. You could feel his eyes on you.

You opened your eyes to see him staring directly at you, “Good night, Kili” you said in a strong nonnegotiable tone.

He hummed and smiled and closed his eyes, “Good night, Y/N.”

~~~

Kili felt your hand grow tighter around his, drawing him from sleep. Then he felt you pulling against it like you were trying to alert him to danger in the camp without making a sound. He opened his eyes ready for war and saw no danger. He looked at you confused but realized you weren’t awake. You were whimpering and mumbling as your head thrashed from side to side.

‘She’s having a nightmare’ he quickly thought. He squeezed your hand and gently shook it.

“Y/N” He tried not to let his worry raise the volume of his voice, “Wake up.”

You didn’t respond, your mumbles turned into clear pleas for help, making him fret even more.

“Y/N!” He shook your shoulder vehemently, “You need to wake up” He had an urgency in his voice. You feebly fought against his hold on your shoulder.

“Please!” you gasped, still breaking from the nightmare when you opened your eyes, “No, please let go!” You begged and continued to push against his hand with tears in your eyes, not knowing who he was while sleep still clouded your vision and mind.

“Y/N, Y/N look at me” he moved his hand from your shoulder to the side of your neck and cheek to call your attention to him, “It was just a dream, you’re safe now.” When you met his eyes, he recognized just how rattled you were.

You were breathing rapidly, and tears were making your eyelashes sparkle in the firelight. He could feel your rapid heartbeat where his hand laid over your pulse point. He could tell you were beginning to wake up because you softly uttered his name and the hand that was fighting his on your neck gently wrapped around his wrist.

“You’re safe, I promise,” His eyebrows were pinched together in worry. You nodded and took a deep breath to try to keep the tears away. It’d been a very long time since you’d had a nightmare that bad.

Kili pulled your bedroll closer to his, “Come here,” He gave you a hug to comfort you, “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked when you pulled back from the hug too look at him. You laid your head on his upper arm and kept your cuddle coat close to your chest.

“I-I was in a forest at night and there were goblins and orcs and Wargs coming to attack me and-” You were talking quickly, the bad dream still too real, “and I was all alone and I couldn’t defend myself…” You trailed off, the waver in your voice making it hard to talk. “I was so scared, Kili,” You tried to curl into yourself.

“Hey hey hey, look at me” He held the side of your face again, “You’re safe,” he said. You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d never let anything happen to you, aye?” He promoted you to get you out of your head. You took another deep breath and nodded.

“I’m ok” you repeated “I’m ok.”

“Yes, there ya go!” He nodded, relieved you were coming around. His thumb swept over your cheek to wipe a tear. You took a few minutes to calm down. Kili was falling asleep, but he needed to know you were going to be ok.

“Thank you, Kee,” you said, your whispered voice no longer shaking with fear, he gave a hearty nod in reply before he yawned. His arm was going numb where your head was lying on it, but it was worth it when you rubbed your face against it to get comfortable as you did in that way, which he found utterly adorable. You appreciated the physical comfort you would have never had in your world.

“I’ll teach you how to fight tomorrow” he whispered over a yawn, his eyelids getting heavy again. He moved his hand from your neck to hang over your waist. He wanted to pull you into him, so you’d feel protected on all sides, not for any other selfish deeply personal reasons of course, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I’d like that very much,” you smiled and watched as he fell back asleep, not snoring but breathing heavily in that way which you found so adorable. You felt safe with his hand on your waist and fell asleep not long after him with thoughts of training together dancing behind your eyes.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Taglist: @letmelickyoureyeballs

[aphrogeneias]

If this doesn’t inspire you to write anything that’s totally okay but I’ve been thinking about Eddie seeing your glasses are dirty and cleaning them for you. Maybe he tries them on too just to see what it’s like and he’s like “wait a minute…aren’t things supposed to be blury? why is everything so clear? are you sure these are real?” and you have to break the news to him that he might need glasses himself.

a book lays forgotten at a secluded table in the library while you and eddie exchanged a whispered conversation. tutoring him wasn't easy, but not for academic reasons — contrary to popular belief, eddie munson was much smarter than he was given credit for — it was because of how distracting he was.

he'd strike up conversation, and you'd easily follow, laughing at his antics, getting lost in weaving of words. a showman to his core, even at the dullest of places. you'd get lost in the way his eyes sparkled, and his hands moved, and how he always found a way to touch you despite your place at the opposite side of the table.

you always had to fight the urge to sigh, and right now it isn't much different. he's still speaking, excitedly narrating the last d&d one-shot he's coming up with for the holidays, as he reaches out for your face, towards the glasses perched high on your nose.

"oh," you breathe out, "everything okay?"

"there's something on your lenses."

adorable isn't a word one would think to describe eddie, but that's exactly how he looks right now. with his tongue peaking out of his lips in concentration, he wipes a small stain on your glasses with the sleeve of his jacket. "there. all good again."

instead of giving them back to you, he slips them on his own face. you cover your mouth to conceal a small laugh — adorable, indeed. "eddie!"

"wait..." he says, looking at the distance. he removes the glasses for a moment only to put them on again. "why isn't everything blurry all the time? are you sure these are real?"

realization dawns on you. "oh, you know... they're only blurry if i don't have my glasses on. with them i can see everything clearly." you measure your words, trying to figure out what to say next. "maybe that's the same for you."

"maybe." he repeats, his voice far away. eddie remains like this for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. his brows are furrowed, and you resist the urge to soften the creases with your thumb.

suddenly, he leans in, that glimmer you love back in his eyes, impossibly a little bigger behind your lenses. "do i look cute in glasses, though? you think i can pull it off?"

this time, you don't hide your laughter. this time, you're the one who reaches out, placing a hand delicately on his cheek, "totally. but if you want my honest opinion, you always look cute."

"always?" he smiled, and all the pretense is gone. you take the moment to slip your glasses out of his face and back onto yours.

you smile right back. "yeah, all the damn time."

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 4

Joan Watson

How were BBC Sherlock shippers so rancid about a WOMAN who wasnt even in the SAME SHOW?????

Martin Freeman of BBC Sherlock insulted Elementary and specifically Lucy Liu in the press. He straight up called Lucy Liu a "dog" in an interview APPARENTLY as a joke, because calling female actors ugly is hilarious. Benedict Cumberbatch was more measured about it, but he still said he was cynical about Elementary because it would lose the "male friendship" dynamic, which of course Johnlock shippers used against Joan Watson fans. Even the lead BBC Sherlock actors got in on the yaoi victimization of Joan Watson... 😔

she wasn't even in the same SHOW as the yaoi I've been convinced she deserves to win the entire poll. I was a Johnlocker but I did watch the first season of Elementary and it was fine????? It was totally okay????? Especially in hindsight given how hard Sherlock season four flopped. Also Lucy Liu is a queen and deserved zero vitriol for *checks notes* playing a character???? A fucking fictional character???????? Oh my god we were all SO mean to this show and we (or at least I) thought it was like The Good Fight™️, like we were defending BBC Sherlock against copyright infringement and straightwashing and Jonny Lee Miller's bizarre scarf, (it wasn't a good scarf I do stand by that) but then Elementary didn't make Holmes and Watson a couple either???? And also it didn't insult its audience constantly etc etc we've all seen the Hbomberguy Sherlock is Garbage video. This is really long sorry hashtag justice for Joan Watson.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime.

[bangtaninborderland]

THE GENTLEMEN DAY THIRTY-EIGHT

Genre: f!reader x bts, smut | 18+ | 12.9k words

Warning: smut, pegging, threesome, oral sex, cockwarming, dom/sub scenes, fighting, mxmxf, orgy (kind of) lots of angst

A/N: this is my longest ever chapter for anything and I’m super nervous about it because I’ve never write from one of the members povs in a story, I feel like I messed up and I’m really sorry if this wasn’t up to your standards. I’ll keep working hard to write something you can enjoy. Also I’d like to credit @jhobiwan for some amazing prompt ideas, I wonder if you can guess what one I’ve used here? Also a massive dedication to @chasing-dreamers for being such an amazing reader. 💜

P.S confessionals are open!

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Yoongi watched Jimin for a while, always being the first awake had its perks. Like the first shower, the quietness but his favourite part was the way he could watch those he loved without them knowing, much like now with a grin across his lips he places a kiss on Jimins forehead. Covering the other with the sheet before slipping out of the bed.

He preferred his showers alone, the water hitting the floor, the steam fogging the room, it was like having a mental break. A moment where worries didn’t exist yet despite that he never dragged them out, wanting to be as efficient as possible.

He doesn’t spend an awful lot of time looking in the mirror, still, he admired the way the bright mint green of his hair had faded into a lighter shade. He had to give Jin his props, he loved it.

As usual, he chose comfort over fashion, pulling on a pair of loose black pants and a black long-sleeve shirt, only deciding to put socks on when he felt a coldness around his legs.

He threw his dirty clothes in the laundry, making his way to the kitchen. What was usually a silent room at this time was clearly occupied, the unmistakable sound of hushed moans filling the space. He peered around the corner, mouth watering at the sight.

Namjoon had Jungkook against the wall, holding the younger up as he fucked into him. Jungkook had his head against the other's shoulder, occasionally lifting his head to peck a kiss to namjoons neck. He holds back a snort at the way their pants are halfway down their legs, although desperate times call for desperate measures.

Yoongi jumps as an arm pulls him from his trance, Jin's soft hands around his waist. “he’s beautiful isn’t he?”

“Yeah, Hyung” The doctor swallowed hard.

“How do you feel watching our baby get fucked?.” The sound of Seokjins gravelly voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Keep watching him.”

“It - good.” Yoongi summarised, his voice no more than a whisper. “I want to take him apart.”

“H-Hyung.” Jungkook interrupted with a moan, his head thrown back against the wall. “G-gonna cum.”

Seokjin hand came down to rub Yoongis cock through his pants. “Look at you already getting hard. I want to watch you ruin Jungkook and then I want to ruin you.”

“You couldn’t ruin me Hyung, I’d have you bent over moaning long before that.” Yoongi shoved back, forcing seokjin to hit the wall.

Jungkooks eyes flickered over to them, Namjoon still oblivious. The younger doesn’t say anything, too lost in his own pleasure.

Yoongi loved the way Seokjin felt underneath him, there was a thrill in having someone bigger than you beneath you, bending to your every will. He felt a little high on the power he had with seokjin pinned against the wall. “If you want it rough baby all you gotta do is ask.”

Yoongi snorted, shaking his head as he leaned down for a kiss before taking seokjins bottom lip onto his mouth, sucking and biting it before releasing him. “Fuck your lips are so perfect.”

“Behave and Hyung will show you how perfect they look wrapped about your cock.” Seokjin spun them around, Yoongi against the wall. Yoongi noticed Jungkooks focus on them again, this time Namjoon looking too, the maknaes whines sounding so beautiful as Namjoon fucked into him again.

“If anyone needs to behave it’s you.” Seokjin grinned at that, his hand tugging on yoongis locks as he littered kisses down his throat.

Their movements paused to watch as Jungkook let out a series of broken moans, the boy truly looked beautiful when he orgasmed. Yoongi noted Namjoons thrusts coming to a stop as he held Jungkook against the wall.

“Hyungs watched.” Jungkook was breathless, Namjoon lazily looked over his shoulder. Smiling at Yoongi before winking at Seokjin.

Anyone in the house could see Namjoon slowly growing more confident, the shy demeanour he wore slipping day by day. Yoongi was rather proud.

“We did and it was delicious but let’s all get cleaned up now.” Seokjin gave Yoongi another peck before moving away.

“Hey!” Yoongi shouted, pulling Seokjin back. “You said you’d show me how pretty you looked sucking my dick!”

“Sounds a bit desperate if you ask me.” Hoseok called out from the other room.

“Shut the fuck up.” Yoongi shouted back, officially pouting.

Seokjin pulled him in for a hug, laughing lightly before releasing him. “Im going to shower soon.”

Yoongi nods, watching as YN walks into the room, Jimins hand in hers. He smiled to himself, everyone was becoming so much more intimate. “Hyung how come they get to fuck in the kitchen but when we do it you call us untrained animals.”

Yoongi laughed at that, eyeing YN, an unspoken memory clearly at the forefront of both your thoughts.

“Maybe I just wanted to enjoy the sight today.” Seokjin mumbles, flicking on the coffee machine.

Jimin rolled his eyes, and Yoongi stifled a laugh knowing the younger would argue futilely. “Yeah sure, like it’s not a good view to see YN spread out on the table like a fucking meal.”

“Actually, I have to argue, she looks rather good spread out on the counter.” Yoongi teased, he loved how red you got any time someone would bring up sexcapade. “I’ll cook breakfast today.” He decided, ignoring the scowl Jimin wore.

“I’ll shower now then.” Seokjin slipped from the room.

“We are gonna cl- we - we will be right back.” Namjoon guides Jungkook out of the room by his hand.

Despite his growing confidence Namjoon was still the most reserved in the house although no one actually seemed to mind, in fact the fond smiles everyone else wore as the pair walked up the stairs were similar to his own.

Besides, Yoongi thought to himself, he was a dignified man who could admit that Namjoon was both sexy, smart and warm-hearted.

“So what’s for breakfast Yoongs.” Yoongi smiled as YN walked to him, her arms wrapping around him. He loved the way her body fit into his as though it belongs there.

He kissed YNs forehead before releasing her from his hold on her, unable to stop a smile at the little pout she wore from it. “Whatever you want baby.”

“I want something sweet.” She smiled. “Pancakes.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Pancakes it is then baby.”

“Kiss?” YN whispered it was always adorable to him whenever you asked. Without a response, he leant down, hand on the side of her face as he kissed her. The kiss the both of you shared always had been like a breath of fresh air, a way to silence the storm in his mind. Yoongi pulled back eventually when the need to breathe became too much.

Jimin let out a low whistle, winking as Yoongi rolled his eyes and YN blushed.

“Nice also I don’t want pancakes.” Taehyung mumbled, Yoongi looked over to the younger, noticing immediately how sad he looked. “I want ramen.”

“I can make you some Tae.” Yoongi agreed, not liking the frown on Taehyungs face.

“What’s wrong?” YN asked, moving away from Yoongi to hug the other.

“Dunno.” He sighed, slumping down on a chair.

YN sat on his left, Jimin immediately rushing to his right. Looking at them from this angle Yoongi could see there was something different about them, the way Jimins playful mood was gone the second Taehyung seemed upset.

He guessed it was the same for himself, Seokjin and Jungkook though. Despite the group relationship you all shared each of you often filtered off into groups, Namjoon and Hoseok being close, himself, Jungkook and Jin and finally taehyung Jimin and YN, although YN was very much equally close with everyone. as someone who listens and observes he had noticed it, and confirmed his thoughts with seokjin during their early morning coffee one day. The other believed that it would change, that the longer the show went on feelings would develop and although there would always be house members that some gravitated towards more, they would all be a unit.

Yoongi could see that, in the way the jokes made bounced off one another, in the way comfort comes in abundance, and in the way no one is ever closed off from talking, listening and supporting. “Hyung?”

Yoongi was pulled from his thoughts as Jimin rested his chin upon his shoulder, his hands around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Yoongi nodded. “I need to start breakfast.”

“Do you need any help?” Jimin offered with a meek smile.

Yoongi shook his head, squeezing Jimins hand. “No, what’s up with Tae?”

“He’s sad about the rules being reinforced today. Think we all are.” Jimin sighed, closing his eyes as he rested his head against Yoongi.

“What if we just run away.” Yoongi laughed. Mixing some eggs into the pancake mix. “Fuck the show”

“Wish we could… dunno about you Hyung but I need the money.” Jimin snorts, releasing Yoongi with a pat on his back.

“Can't believe I’m playing best cock wins with you.” Yoongi laughed. Pouring the batter into a pan.

“Ah Hyung, you should be flattered to be against such a professional.” Jimin smirked, slapping the elders’ ass. “I’m going to give my babies some cuddles. Call me if you need help.”

“Yeah yeah, get out of my kitchen.” Yoongi huffed, the action purely a way to mask his own smile.

It didn’t take long for Yoongi to finish making breakfast, the heap of pancakes along with a pot of ramen for Taehyung and whoever else wanted it. Seokjin had come down just in time to help him set up the table, everyone flocking into the room as though the food had beckoned them.

“Well …” seokjin sighs. “this feels like the last supper.”

Everyone looked towards him, Yoongi felt YNs hand brush against his, with her on the left and Seokjin on the right he had a clear view of Namjoon at the head of the table with Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok on the other side. Yoongi masked the surprise he felt at the former choosing to sit beside one another.

Taehyung was still looking down, as was Jungkook and if Yoongi didn’t know Seokjin as well as he did he would think the psychologist was happy. Yoongi didn’t bring attention to it, focusing on the pancakes on his plate instead.

It was YN who finally broke the melancholy silence surrounding the table. “This won’t do. I will not let you all be sad about the rules being reinforced. We have two weeks left and then it’s over. We have lasted up until now besides we still have just under three hours.”

Yoongi turned his head to watch her, she was a ball of determination. He truly loved that about her.

“I know but it’s hard for us, knowing we can’t show you how we feel, seeing you all the time and you being just out of reach….it wasn’t supposed to be this hard.”Taehyung slouches back, digging his fork into his pancakes.

“We wasn’t supposed to fall in love that’s why, but we did and now we have two weeks to get through. It hurts me just as much Tae, I hate seeing you laugh and smile and kiss each other when I can’t do the same but unfortunately, this is the best we can do for now. I love you regardless if we kiss or have sex.”

“It’s just two weeks. We’ve done longer up to now.” Seokjin supplied. “Let’s not end this experience with a negative outlook, I think if anything the past day with no rules has brought us all closer.”

“I agree.” Namjoon nodded. “It feels like we’ve all fallen into synch with one another.”

“Then let’s keep that going.” YN smiled. “It’s only two weeks.”

“Only two weeks.” Everyone agreed. The sour mood slowly picked up.

“Oh Hyung thank you for breakfast.” Jungkook perked up, shoving another heap of ramen into his mouth. “And the pancakes.”

“I’ll make coffee after.” Hoseok offered. “If anyone wants it?”

“That would be good, I feel tired today.” YN voices.

Yoongi turns to look at her, she even looked tired. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

“I did I guess it’s just been an emotional whirlwind the past few days.” She smiled weakly but Yoongis watched her enough to know it was fake.

Something was definitely bothering her, he wanted to ask then and there but didn’t, later, he promised himself. “Okay. Try and sleep earlier tonight. I’m sure Taehyung won’t mind giving you a massage.”

“My services are always open for you.” Taehyung winked across the table, evoking a blush out of YN.

“Okay.” Seokjin drops his tissue, hand hitting the table just enough to make a small thump. “I know I said I didn’t mind watching today but if you start any more horny shenanigans at my table over the food Yoongi cooked I will personally see to it that none of you orgasm for a week.”

“At least fuck YN first.” Jungkook teased, hiding his laugh by taking a sip of water.

Seokjin smiles at him, bringing a hand to rest upon his shoulder. “And for that, you can do the dishes.”

“What that’s not fair?!” Jungkook exclaimed. “Jimin Hyung fucked Taehyung in here before, make them do it.”

The table turned to stare at the pair, Taehyung shrugged looking down, Jimin as shameless as ever glared at Jungkook “Oh you’re definitely getting it you little brat! That was supposed to be a secret.”

“Enough!” Seokjin demanded, jokingly. “Jungkook can do dishes today and you two..” Seokjin points between Taehyung and Jimin “can do it for the next two days.”

“So unfair.” Taehyung pouts. “What if I told Jin hyung the time you co-“

Before Taehyung could finish his sentence Jungkook was chasing Taehyung out of the room, laughter filling the house.

“Someone should go after them.” YN chokes out , tears of laughter brimming in her eyes.

“I’ll go.” Namjoon stands.

“Actually…same here” YN smiles at Yoongi. “Coming?”

“Sure I guess.”

“I better go. God knows what you’ll all get up to?”

Seokjin turns to Jimin and Hoseok. “You coming?”

They share a look before shaking their heads. “No Hyung go ahead, have fun.” Hoseok winked.

The three of them walked together, eventually finding Namjoon pinning Jungkook down on the bed. Taehyung sitting in a chair across the room.

Yoongi noticed the way Taehyungs energy had changed from playful to powerful, the darkness in the other's eyes sent a shot of want straight to his dick. He watched as YN went straight to the bed. Seokjin and Him squishing onto the only spare chair left.

“What’s going on here then?” Seokjin asks.

“Jungkooks a brat.” Namjoon declared.

Yoongi grinned at that, not because it was funny but because it was the truth. “Maybe we should teach him a lesson then.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you begging baby, I miss the sight.” Seokjins voice drops lower as he speaks, Yoongi leaning into his hyungs touch as he massages Yoongis neck.

Jungkook whines. “Get off me.”

“What’s your colour kookie?” YN asked lightly, despite the fact Namjoon was entirely on top of Jungkook, both of his hands holding the other down by his wrists Yn had placed herself above his head, stroking his hair. “Tell me.”

He huffed pushing again Namjoon once again. “Green.”

“I think he just wants to be thrown around,” Taehyung spoke for the first time, everyone looking over at him.

“I agree, Jungkook you did tell a secret. I think you should make it up to Taehyung.” Seokjin suggests, hand dropping lower on Yoongis's back. “Why don’t you let Taehyung be in control today? Be a good boy and show him you can behave.”

Taehyung perks up at that, seemingly interested. He looks at Namjoon before asking him “What do you think?”

“I-er” he stutters, looking at YN who just gives him a reassuring smile. “Sure.”

“You don’t have to do this, I’d enjoy watching you out Jungkook in his place.” Taehyung reassures, not wanting the other to feel pressured.

“No, let’s do this. Tell me what you want.” Namjoon smiles, this time with a sense of sureness to it.

“I want you to kiss YN. Don’t move, just kiss like that.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook whines, clearly unhappy about being left out of the equation.

“The more you talk the less you get Jungkook.” Taehyung says firmly. “Namjoon.”

At that Namjoon leans over, taking YNs lips in his, she pushes into him, hands coming to grip his shirt.

Taehyung watches for a few seconds, everything else around them disappearing. “Jungkook how do you feel about being pegged today?”

The question catches the throuple off guard. “Good, want that.” Jungkook responds, trying to push his hips up to grind on Namjoon, but unsuccessfully so.

“YN?” Taehyung eyes her, smiling back at the excitement on her face. “Okay then. Seokjin Hyung will you go and get the toy? Get it ready?”

“My pleasure.” He smiles, patting yoongi on his thigh as he shifts him enough to stand.

“Namjoon prep Jungkook. YN baby come here.”

Yoongis attention is torn as Namjoon begins removing Jungkooks clothes, grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer, also wanting to watch as YN slides onto Taehyungs lap, taking whatever kisses and touches he was willing to give, the younger in a particularly mean mood.

“Did I say you could grind on me petal?” Taehyung questioned, sliding a piece of YNS hair behind her ear. When she doesn’t answer he taps her jaw. “Answer me.”

“N-no but I can’t help it, I enjoy having you too much.” She responds with the lilt to her voice that Yoongi has come to notice none of them can refuse.

“Such a greedy thing, maybe I’ll keep you trapped under me, making you watch as I kiss someone else. How would you like that?” Yoongi stifles a laugh as she pouts, shaking her head.

“No, not fair.” She shakes her head. “I wa-

Before she can finish seokjin enters the room.

“You ready for YN to fuck you kookie?” Seokjin asks, running his hand through Taehyungs hair as he hands YN the strap on.

“Yes, big boss daddy over here is teasing me.” Jungkook whines, way too playful considering Namjoon was three fingers deep into his ass. The comment caused Namjoon to flush an unflattering shade of red.

“I think he liked that.” Yoongi commented, slightly revelling in the look on Namjoons face. “How would you feel Joon? If Kook called you daddy?”

“Uh-fine” namjoons voice was strained, once again Yoongi took great pleasure in it.

“I want to see YN fuck our kookie whilst joonie fucks our doll.” Seokjin grips Taehyungs hair, pulling the other head back as he bends over to kiss him, Yoongi can’t help but bring a hand to his cock, palming himself through his pants. “What do you think little prince?” Seokjin directs the question to Taehyung but Jungkook perks up at that, seemingly jealousy.

“Want that t-too.” Taehyungs stutters, biting Seokjins lip before pulling away and turning to YN “Off you go baby.”

Yn hops off Taehyung, eyes glassy from watching the two men kiss right in front of her. She’s naked within a few seconds, Yoongi enjoying the strip show just as much as everyone else in the room.

“On your hands and knees.” Taehyung directs to Jungkook, Namjoon moving off the bed for a second to allow the boy to move. Eyes raking over YNs before nodding towards the maknae. “Slide inside of him slowly Princess.”

Jungkook stays relaxed with Namjoon stroking his bare back as YN aligns to strap on with Jungkooks stretched hole. “How does that feel baby?” YN whispered to Jungkook, holding his hips as she bottoms out inside of him. “Too much?”

“No, more. More please.” Jungkook tries to push back but YN stops him. Namjoon fists his hair, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You aren’t in control, Taehyung is.”

At that, Jungkook looks over to the masseuse “Tae please.”

“Give him what he wants petal, no cumming. I want to see jungkookie crying because he feels so good, but first, don’t you think YN should get a bit of pleasure too?” At that Namjoon gets naked, his hard cock bouncing as he frees it from his shorts.

He grabs the lube, coating his cock in it before shuffling on the bed to fit behind YN. “Ready?”

She nods, bending over just a little, evoking a moan from Jungkook as the strap shifts inside of him. “Fuck me, Daddy.”

Yoongi loved how shameless she could be, how she never hid what she wanted. She was bold, Yoongi loved bold. The room is filled with moans from all three as Namjoon fucks into YN with one slide.

“Enjoying the show, Yoon?” Whenever seokjin has THAT tone in his voice, Yoongi knows what’s coming. “How about you sit on my cock and maybe I’ll reward you?”

“Doesn’t sound too convincing, what do I get?” Yoongi grinds down on Seokjin, sitting in his lap has its perks.

“I could put a cock ring around you and then you won’t be cumming at all, like to see how you feel with blue balls.” Seokjin says curtly, hand resting atop the bulge in yoongis pants.

A particularly loud moan comes from the bed, causing Yoongi and Seokjin to look over. Jungkook was gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white, YNs thrusts Into Jungkook were halfhearted, Namjoon causing a ripple effect as he forcefully fucks into YNs pussy.

The door opened, and a smiling jimin bounced into the room making a beeline for Taehyung when he sees him sitting alone. “what’s going on here?” Jimin questions against Taehyungs ear, voice dripping like honey. “Is my puppy in charge?”

Taehyung nodded, gripping Jimins throat and pulling him in for a kiss. Yoongi could feel Seokjins cock against his back and with that Yoongi couldn’t resist. “Let me cockwarm you.”

“Stand baby, clothes off.” Seokjin instructed.

Yoongi rushed to do so, feeling Seokjins movements mimicking his.

“Do you want Hyung on top or beneath?” Jimin questioned. Yoongi couldn’t stop watching them, it was beautiful to see as Jimin slid onto his knees, pulling Taehyungs cock out of his pants the second Taehyung mumbled the words “Beneath please.”

Yoongi couldn’t pull his eyes away, even as seokjin guided him to sit on his solid cock voice low as he asked “How does that feel ?”

“Good,” Yoongi responded, finally feeling settled, and satisfied as the psychologist wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking it lazily.

“Fuck Jimin.” Taehyung gasped beside him. Yoongi was torn between watching the pair or watching the trio on the bed. Jungkook was close, his moans and gasps were desperate. YN was no better, body lazy with Namjoon supporting her. Yoongi clenched around Seokjins cock as he watched Namjoon pull YNs hair back, biting down on her neck, causing her to scream.

“Taehyung please.” Jungkook whimpered, his focus on Jimin as the Dom continued sucking Taehyungs cock. “I need to cum.”

“Only- fuck.” Taehyung gasps as Jimin swirls his tongue around the tip of his cock. “Only once Namjoon and YN have finished, you go last bunny.”

“No Hyungie please.. can’t.” Jungkook sobbed, so beautifully. “Please.”

“Yn baby, let our bunny suck your fingers for being such a good boy.” Taehyung directed, YN following the order instantly, eager to please. Jungkook quietened a little, his sounds muffled.

“Hyungs going to fuck you now.” Seokjin explained, Yoongi nodded eagerly. He leaned back against the therapist's broad frame, using all of his strength to bounce on the other's cock whilst being fucked into. “Your ass is so tight.”

“If you don’t wrap your hand around my cock right now I’m going to let someone else fuck me.” Yoongi threatened grinding down as hard as he could on Seokjins cock. The other responded with a deep moan, hand wrapping around his cock and throat simultaneously.

Despite being fucked out of his mind Yoongi still watched the others, Taehyung finally granting Jungkook permission to cum only as Namjoon filled up YN. Jimin took his entire cock down his throat as Taehyung came with a whine.

Fucking beautiful boy.

“Hyung won’t last long Yoongi.” Seokjin informed, his moans broken and breathless as he sucks a mark onto Yoongis neck.

“S-same,” Yoongi grunted, his orgasm just about to snap.

As though their bodies were in synch Seokjin came into Yoongis ass just as Yoongi painted his thighs, and the floor, with his own seed. “Fuck.”

Yoongis dick twitched but softened against his thigh. Seokjin removed his hand so as to not overstimulate him. Yoongi glanced around, Jungkook was flat out on the bed his chest heaving, YN had slumped onto his chest, strap-on thrown to the side, and Namjoon was checking on them both, despite his own tiredness.

“I’m so proud of you my puppy.” Jimin was cradling Taehyung on the floor, taehyung seemingly out of it.

“Hyung will get us a nice bath hm?” Seokjin whispered to Yoongi, a bath right now seemed perfect, being covered in his own cum wasn’t something he wanted to experience for much longer.

“Yes. Like yesterday.” Yoongi agreed.

“You’ve got to get off me then.” Seokjin reminded him they were still attached, Yoongi could feel Seokjin going soft inside him. Body shivering he pulled himself off, seokjin hissing at the overstimulation the action brought.

“You could have been more careful.” Seokjin glared, pulling up his boxers.

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t love being overstimulated.” Yoongi joked back. “Is everyone okay?” He directs the question to the room, a few groans and quiet “yes” are the only responses he gets but he accepts it, trusting Jimin to be able to know the signs of a bad scene. He leads out with seokjin. They forego a bath, instead choosing to be quick and opting for the shower and for once Yoongi allows Seokjin to join him, even going so far as to allow the other to wash his hair. He secretly loves it, loves being babied, loves being tended to with soft hands and softer words but he also loved being stubborn, loved being the reserved one, loved being teased.

The shower was quick well as quick as it could be with two people stuck in a post-orgasm haze. Seokjin excused himself to check on the others. Yoongi explained he was going to check on Hoseok who weirdly enough hadn’t joined their little sex adventure.

Midday was approaching and soon enough his chance to be with YN would be up. It didn’t take long before he found the other, sitting on the couch, phone in hand. H

“So.” Yoongi huffs, slumping beside Hoseok. “I have a question.”

“Go for it.” Hoseok laughs, turning his attention to the doctor, phone out away. “I’m all ears.”

“Why didn’t you join us earlier?” Yoongi asks, putting Hoseok on the spot.

“Well- I just…” Hobi trails off. “I guess I wanted to give you all some time to be with each other.”

“And you thought that you could be there because?”

“Because I can’t make love to you all the way you do one another.” Hoseok sighs, truthful as ever. “I wanted to give you all a chance to love each other without worrying about me or how I would feel.”

“You have never been a worry to us Hoseok. You are always welcome wherever we are, whatever we are doing. I don’t know how many times you need to be told this but I will say it as many times as necessary.”

“I just know there’s a difference.”

Yoongi nods, he wasn’t wrong. “Maybe, to some extent, but no one’s feelings in this house are entirely the same. Does that mean I shouldn’t kiss taehyung because Jimin probably loves him more? Should I just stop sucking namjoons dick because He doesn’t love me?”

“Hyung that’s different, at least they can love you.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Do you care for me Hoseok?”

“Of course?” He responds as though offended by the question.

“Then that’s it. No more to it. You’re you Hoseok, those of us that do love you whatever way we do, love you and care for who you are because of who you are.” The doctor states, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

“You mean that?”

“I don’t lie. Don’t ever seclude yourself for that reason.” Yoongi scolds.

“Okay, I won’t.” The Dom agrees.

“What’s it like to be aromantic?” Yoongi asked and upon noticing the confusion on the dominant's face he rushed to add .”You don’t have to talk about it, of course, I’d never want you to feel uncomfortable but I guess I’m curious.”

“No uh.” Hobi blinks. “It’s okay, just surprised. No one ever really wants to know, funnily enough, I actually had a conversation with YN about this the other day. I guess It’s hard to explain, there are all these misconceptions, that we are uncaring, we don’t want affection, we don’t want to be loved and we can’t love. It’s not like that at all, just like with anyone of a different sexual or romantic identity one box does not fit all. I’ve met aro people who are married I’ve also met aro people who don’t even like having friends. There’s a very big difference between them but they are both valid.”

“Of course.” Yoongi nods, more so to encourage the other.

Hoseok smiles, genuinely happy he gets to discuss something so important to him. “For me it’s different, when I first came here I wasn’t big on hugs, kissing or intimate physical touch. I think over time here that’s changed, we could all hug and hold hands and I wouldn’t have much of an issue about it because I consider you all close friends, people I care about very much. I don’t really see myself in a long-term relationship, I don’t want one, I’ve never experienced a desire for romantic love and in some way, I’ve always been very firm on boundaries because I’ve seen how much having an unrequited love can hurt.”

“Do you think those boundaries and desires changed at all here?”

“To some extent, I still don’t want or desire a romantic relationship, I care for you all and love you all, maybe not in the way I know some of you love me but I love you in my own way. I don’t hate the idea of doing things that could be perceived as romantic, not anymore at least, I guess it’s like a squish, a platonic crush you know?….Can I be honest with you, Hyung?”

“Always.” Yoongis eyes soften. “Tell Hyung.”

“I know I can’t give you all the love you give me, I can’t give you a relationship but I have my own type of love, if you could call it that, and the seven of you are the only recipients. I don’t know how to explain that further, I know it’s not the same but it’s all I can do, I don’t want to do more, this is where I’m comfortable. The most I’ve ever felt, the only way I can feel, I feel it for my seven.” Hoseok isn’t one to cry, but it’s hard sometimes so just this once he lets the tears fall.

The thing about yoongi is he was never great with tears, but still, he cared for Hoseok maybe not love exactly but something akin to it, with that in mind all he wanted to do was comfort the other. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good.” Hobi mumbled, voice shaky. “Am I too different? I don’t feel like I had a right to include myself in something I know you all see as romantic when I can’t give you all the same kind of love you give me, although I do love you all as friends. Homo intended?”

“Hey.” Yoongi shakes his head, pushing the younger back to look at him. “The love you give us, although different, is never less. We all want you, regardless of the way it is, we are happy with you in our affinity and actually, it’s OUR seven.”

Hoseok laughs at that, thankful for yoongis ability to bring some light to the sombre mood. “I know YN loves me.”

“Not just YN.” Yoongi corrects, hand running up and down Hobis back. “You know you have your own form of emotion, at this point, we should just make up a term for it.”

The dominant's eyebrows furrow, mouth pulled down into a confused frown “What like a Hoseok equivalent to “I love you”?”

“Sure. Uh….” Yoongi draws it out before smiling. “Could always say something like “I hobi you”.”

Hoseok laughs at that, not just a chuckle but a full-body laugh, bending at the waist as he clutches his stomach, Yoongi joining along with him. “No offence Hyung but that’s fucking awful.”

“Well then you think of a term, if you wanted to talk to a human dictionary you should have asked Namjoon.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, shoving Hoseok away from him. “I’ll copyright it, then you won’t have any term.”

“Please do, save me the trouble of worrying someone else will you that awful concoction.” Hoseok wipes away a tear from his face, this time caused by happiness. “Thank you, Hyung, not for the term but for the talk.”

“I would say anytime but after that fucking disrespect you can go to our in-house therapist.” Yoongi scoffed, pressing his lips together to suppress a smile.

“Actually, I’m off the clock.” Seokjin declared, walking into the room as gracefully as ever. “Hoseok, YN is looking for you.”

“I’ll go find her.” Hoseok responds, dipping out of the room.

“Hyung?” Yoongi turns to Seokjin. The man busied himself on his phone.

“Yes?” The therapist hums.

“I think someday I’m going to love Hoseok in a way I shouldn’t.”

“That’s okay. You aren’t alone in that. I’m afraid I’ll love them all a little too much.” Seokjin frowns.

“We are really fucked, aren’t we?”

Seokjin nods, a fitting laugh following.

They spend the next ten minutes on their phones before one by one they are joined by the others as instructed by Sejin. They still had Fifteen minutes before their time of freedom came to an end, the long faces despite the impromptu orgy showed everyone’s true feelings about the matter.

“This won’t do.” Jungkook announced. “We are not ending this thing sad, stop being so sappy it’s not like we are all leaving. We just can’t fuck and kiss.”

“Great words Jungkook, so touching.” Taehyung snorts. “YN baby come and kiss me, we don’t have long.”

Yn happily obliges, standing from Seokjins lap to slide into Taehyungs, it’s hard not to enjoy the sight. The puppy and the princess fight for dominance in their mini-make-out session.

“Don’t hog her!”Jungkook groans. Walking over and pulling YN back to kiss him, taehyung just watches with a grin as he runs his hands up and down YNs thighs.

“Okay okay enough, come here dove.” Hoseok beckons her over, opening his legs for her to sip on his lap. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“But-“ YN goes to argue but Hoseok cuts her off. A finger to her lip before leaning down to place a peck on her lips, nothing intense or overwhelming but something truly special.

Yoongi watches on with a smile, it feels as though he shouldn’t be there but Hoseok pays everyone else no mind. His eyes open as he places another kiss on her forehead and pulls her in for a hug. “Never forget that you are Sir's favourite person.”

“What?” Namjoon asks. Jungkook snickered with Jimin beside him. “You said I was your favourite.”

“Do I Dom you Namjoon?” Hoseok asks lips in a firm line.

“No.” Namjoon scowls, jealous of course.

“Then you are not Sir's favourite.” He continues playing with YNs hair, eyes trained on her as he converses with Namjoon. “Do you want me to Dom you Namjoon?”

Namjoon chokes on his spit. “You-What?”

“Come back to me later when you can formulate an answer and then we will talk about favourites, hm?” He looks at Namjoon for a second before turning back to YN. “Now pretty girl, go and give our eldest a kiss.”

“Mention my age again and I’ll make you sleep in the garden.” Seokjin jokes, but not really, as he accepts YN back into his arms. Any other words swallowed by her kissing him.

They all hear the door open, they all know who it is but no one turns to greet Sejin as he sighs shaking his head at the sight of the intimate session. “You know I said midday right?”

“Oh no, did someone forget the alarm?” Taehyung gasps, and Jungkook sends a pillow hurtling towards him. “No one sent an alarm.”

“It’s fine just wrap it up.” Sejin waves his hand, choosing to look out the window until Seokjin finally releases YN.

“Great if that's all I’ll begin now.” Sejin rolls his eyes. “You had your prize for completing the random challenge. I hope you made great use of it.” Yoongi meets YNS's eyes and she looks genuinely happy, no worry on her face as there is when it’s time for eliminations and as he looks at the others he notices it’s the same for them too. Sacrificing time for prompts was definitely worth it. He turns his attention back to Sejin who was still explaining the next prompts. “Because there are only three gentlemen left prompts will become increasingly harder. That being said gentlemen please come and collect your prompts.”

Yoongi stands, alongside Namjoon and Jimin. As usual, Sejin hands them all an envelope and tells them to keep it to themselves, although that was pretty much a given at this point. “This week's theme is “Switch”

Yoongi, as always when this time comes, looks over at YN, her face already a picture of determination and focus. He bites back a laugh at her face and turns his attention to his own prompt.

This week you will mimic Jimin, you must as as he would during a scene to fulfil your prompt. Yn must not decipher this during the scene.

Well, that was definitely going to be harder. He looked over at Jimin, whose face was a mask of calm. He was never bothered much by the prompts but as always Namjoon, unable to hide his emotions, frowns at the paper. Yoongi would definitely pull him aside and talk to him about it, by process of elimination Jimin would be acting like Namjoon and therefore Namjoon would be mimicking him.

There was no way he could hide an entire sexual personality shift, at this rate they would all be sleeping in the empty room.

“So now that’s out of the way, Jimin you and YN will be picked up this evening for your date, don’t be late.” Sejin eyes Jimin, already used to his tendency to stroll in the room whenever it suits him, regardless of the time wasted. “And that’s it I’ll get out of your hair. If you need me you know where to find me. Remember the rules are now in effect if you do anything you know you aren’t supposed to do you will be removed.”

“Yes yes, we know.” Taehyung pouts, staring at YN.

“Right.” Yoongi stood up. “ I’m going for a walk. YN want to come?”

“You can’t kidnap her.” Jimin protests “Okay fair Hyung.”

“Oh piss of Jimin.” Yoongi snorts, YN wrapping her arm around Yoongis bicep. “You got the big date, just let me enjoy the baby for a little.”

“Since when am I “the baby?” YN ask, pulling a “what the fuck” face as she says the word “baby”

“Since always?” Jungkook responds, voice imitating the confusion of YNs voice.

Yoongi smiles as YN turns to him, so beautiful he thinks. “Yoongi take me away from here, these heathens I can’t take it.” She falls against him dramatically and he can’t help but laugh as does everyone else in the house.

“Let’s go, darling. I will save you.” Yoongi plays back. “Your knight in shining armour is here .”

“Cringe!” Hoseok adds from the couch. “Get out.”

At that they leave the room laughing, arms entwined the entire time spare for the few seconds they put their shoes on.

“How are you feeling now it’s back to normal doll?” Yoongi asks, their conversation from two nights ago still playing in his mind.

“I’m okay, I guess Jungkook was right when he said we had to stop being sad about it.” Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, closing it again when she continues. “I wish Hoseok joined us. He told me you two spoke.”

“We did, I think he is just adjusting. Over the past 24 hours, I’ve noticed a few things?” Yoongi mumbles, staring at the trees in the distance as they walk the grounds. “I think we all segregate ourselves into groups, I don’t know if that’s necessarily bad but I think it would be a better environment if we all stopped sticking by those we feel closest to.”

“We do-“ YN starts, Yoongi shakes his head, silencing her.

“We do. I stay with Jungkook and Jin whenever I’m not with you. I spent time with Jimin and Hoseok alone yesterday and today and I felt slapped in the face when I realised I’d rarely done that. Jimin rarely goes to anyone But you, Taehyung and Jungkook. Hoseok sticks by Namjoon as though he is unable to exist without him. At first, I didn’t care, I came here to win and maybe make a few friends but I love most of you and I’m sure enough going to love the others and I don’t see that working in the outside world if we keep segregating ourselves.” Yoongi finished out of breath, walking and ranting didn’t make for a good duo.

He lets the whiteness settle before then, YN not jumping to speak and he begins to feel afraid he said too much when YN stops walking and embraces him in a hug before pulling back and kissing him. “You’re right, you’re right, I want all of you even after the show ends and it’s not going to work out if we keep on like this. I can already imagine how it will go, maybe for the first few weeks we will all be okay but slowly we will fall apart and eventually, it will be us divided into little groups. I really don’t want that.” She frowns and for a moment he regrets bringing it up, seeing her sad was never worth it. “Do you think we should talk to the others?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, nodding. “I think it would be beneficial.”

She presses her lips into a thin line. “Then let’s go back and do that.”

“Right now?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows raised. “What about our walk?”

“You’ll still have legs tomorrow.” She snorts, pulling him in the direction of the house.

Yoongi sighs, dragging his weight as he walks. He just wanted a fucking walk. The house grows closer but suddenly they stop moving, shouting coming from the house. Yoongi looks at YN before brushing past her, running in the direction of the noise.

They are met with a sight that no one could expect, there was glass shattered on the floor, Hoseok in the corner with Seokjin, as Jungkook and Taehyung shout at Jimin.

“Let me explain!” Jimin shouts, Jungkook throws another glass on the floor before breaking down into tears.

“You’re a fucking liar!” Jungkook shouts, pulling a sobbing Taehyung in for a hug. “You should have fucking told us!”

“I was going to! It wasn’t even a big deal!” Jimin defends, looking as though he wanted to step closer but couldn’t because of the glass.

“What the fuck happened?” Yn whispers to Yoongi and he shrugs, he has no answers, they weren’t even gone that long.

Taehyung pulls back, looking Jimin dead in the eye. “You’re a fucking cheater.” He spits, his words like venom.

“It was before any of us got fucking serious!” Jimin screams, glassy-eyed. “Just let me fucking explain.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Taehyung points at Jimin. “I will never trust you again.”

“You could have just fucking said something Jimin,” Jungkook adds, voice a little quieter.

“You mean he could have just told us the truth!” Taehyung is distraught.

For the first time since entering the room, Yoongi finds his voice. “Does someone want to explain what’s going on here?” He looks at Jimin first and then over to Jungkook and finally, where Jin and Hoseok stand in the corner. “Anyone?”

“Why don’t you explain Jimin? Oh wait you’re fucking awful at doing that. I’ll tell everyone then. Jimin has had a fucking girlfriend this entire time.” Taehyung walks out of the room, the words dumping over Yoongi like icy water.

He doesn’t know what to do first, to comfort a crying Jungkook who has run out of the room after Taehyung, demands Jimin gives them answers Or coddle YN who has been frozen for the past few minutes.

Jimin notices the emptiness on her face. “YN! Baby I-“

She doesn’t give him a chance to explain, walking around the glass to go after Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Jimin what the fuck?” That is all Yoongi can say. Genuinely thrown back by the situation at hand. “Please tell me this isn’t true”

Jimin doesn’t say anything, he slumps to the floor, body overtaken by breathless sobs. Yoongi watches for a few seconds before walking over to him pulling the younger in for a hug. Regardless of what Jimin did or didn’t do Yoongi would always take care of him.

“Jin-ah,” Yoongi calls the eldest who is still frozen in place beside Hoseok. “Clean up the glass, please. Hoseok go and check on the others.”

They both nod, getting to their respective tasks instantly. “Jiminie baby look at Hyung.”

Jimin doesn’t look, his body shaking involuntarily as he sobs. “Let’s go and sit on the couch hm? Let seokjin clean up this mess?”

Thankfully Jimin stands, walking behind Yoongi to the couch. It hurts Yoongi to see him so upset, especially as he pulls his legs up to his chest and curls into himself, crying. “Oh, baby what have you gotten yourself into.” Yoongi sighs, pulling Jimin to him. His hand carded through the hair of the other in an attempt to calm him down.

The soothing actions work somewhat as Jimins choked cries soon become sniffles. “I didn’t cheat Hyung, I would never.”

“Then explain it to me minie.” Yoongi pleads. “I’m so confused here.”

Jimin sniffles one more time before sitting up. “Before I came here there was this girl, we had done scenes a few times but she was a really kind person, I wanted to help her find her footing in the kink world and we ended up going out to dinner a few times. This was before I was accepted on the show, I sent my application but I didn’t know if I was guaranteed to come on here, none of us did, so I continued with life, I kept doing scenes with her and netting her for dinner, we texted now and again when I first got here, she would send me encouragement, I guess sometimes we would flirt but I promise Hyung, on my life , on everything I love, the second I fell for anyone I stopped talking to her in that way. I tried to show Taehyung but he didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, Jimin.” Yoongi could see how it looked. “How did Taehyung and Jungkook find out?”

“They were using my phone to play games when she messaged, here.” Jimin pulled out his phone, opening the text threat before handing it over to yoongi.

“Oh.” Yoongi huffs. “Continue.”

“I was going to tell her that I didn’t want to, fuck taehyung is practically my fucking boyfriend but at this point if I put a fucking label on things I’d end up having 5 boyfriends and a girlfriend all of whom are mad at me!” He exclaims. A hint of desperation in his voice.

“She said you had late-night conversations, Jimin?” The question comes out a little harsher than intended but Yoongi can’t help it, he is only human and hurt and jealousy were very difficult emotions.

“She called me twice Hyung and I picked up thinking she would need something. We just spoke about how it was here, nothing happened apart from that, she asked me a few kink questions and I directed her to a friend that could help. That’s all.” Jimin searches Yoongis’ face. “Please believe me Hyung.”

Despite how the messages seemed Yoongi did believe him, call it gut instinct. “I do minie.”

“The glass is cleaned, I think we should talk.” Seokjin enters the room, an air of dominance to him that under better circumstances would make Yoongi in the mood to fu k, or get fucked. “Jimin explain please.”

Yoongi sits back as Jimin explains everything once again to Seokjin, much like himself he comes to the conclusion it was a misunderstanding. Despite that, it didn’t solve the resounding issues with the three beings upstairs, all of whom left the room hurt. “You need to talk to YN, you have your date tonight.”

“I need to talk to them all.” Jimin turns to Seokjin. “Please convince them to hear me out, they will take it better if it’s from you. They hate me.”

“They don’t hate you Jimin,” Yoongi argues.

“You didn’t see the way they looked when they read the messages or how quickly Jungkook agreed with Taehyungs thoughts that I was cheating. I thought they trusted me but they didn’t even give me a chance to talk to them about it.” Yoongi could understand that, the pain in Taehyungs eyes was unforgettable, Jungkook was the same and if he had a chance to properly look at YN he was sure she too would have been looking as hurt and betrayed as the rest.

“I’ll go and have a talk with them Jimin but bear in mind they may not be ready to talk, guilty or not they feel you’ve betrayed them and that isn’t something easily forgotten. I’m sure you too won’t forget the fact they dismissed hearing you out so fast. I’ll talk to them but let’s take this one step at a time okay?” Jin comforts realistically, it was one of Yoongis’ favourite things about him. Whenever Yoongi had a problem he would always seek Jin out first, not because he didn’t trust the others but because Jin was brutally honest, even if it hurt.

Yoongi pulls Jimin into another hug. “Let’s wait here okay?”

Jin nods at Yoongi before disappearing out of the room, the two sit in silence although it doesn’t feel awkward at all. Some time passes, and Yoongi isn’t sure how much, he doesn’t pay attention, instead focusing all of his energy on drawing shapes with his finger on Jimins shoulder.

They both perk up at the sounds of footsteps, YN walks in first, sitting opposite Jimin, and Taehyung follows behind, his hand holding Jungkooks, the pair sit the furthers away from Jimin as possible. Yoongi sees his hurt and feels his shoulders deflate underneath him just a little in disappointment.

“I want to explain, please just give me that chance.” Jimin starts, and Seokjin stands by the doorway.

“You have five minutes before I get up and pack.” Taehyung sniffles.

“What?!” Yoongi lurches forwards. “Pack for what Tae?”

“I can’t be here anymore.” Taehyung shrugs. Gaze flickering over Jimin before resting his head against Jungkooks shoulder and staring out of the window. From the lack of surprise, Yoongi guessed YN and Jungkook already knew about his decision.

“Please let me talk before you decide that, Tae. Baby please.” Jimin please, Taehyung doesn’t disagree and Yoongi takes that as a good sign. It was really just a misunderstanding.

Yoongi sat back as Jimin explained in detail. Despite it being the third time hearing it Yoongi still listened with the utmost attention, watching the other three to see their faces and hopefully their forgiveness.

“I promise I didn’t cheat.” Jimin finishes. Sitting forward as though he wanted to rush to their side.

“I understand.” YN speaks first. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain first, I just see Tae and Kook upset and when I heard I-“ she shakes her head. “I was hurt.”

“I’m so sorry it seemed that way, I promise the only people I feel anything for romantically are within this house.” Jimin says, hand gripping his knee. “Tae? Jungkook?”

“You said you didn’t cheat but you didn’t exactly go out of your way to shut her down Jimin. For all I know you could have walked out of here and asked her out on the same day.” Taehyungs words are spiteful but true.

“I didn’t want to cause any drama. She isn’t a horrible person and didn’t deserve to be shut down over a text message.”

Taehyung scoffed. “But we deserved you lying to us?”

“It was a lie Tae. I didn’t lie.” Jimin shook his head. “I didn’t even respond.”

“You didn’t shut her down.” Taehyung says firmly. “You maybe didn’t cheat but you fucking entertained it by not being honest with her.”

“Taehyung I did not cheat on you, yes maybe I made a mistake by not telling her instantly that I had absolutely no interest in her but I didn’t cheat. I have opened up to you all, you more than anyone. You were the first one I fell in love with. Is that what you want? Do you want me to be honest? Okay then fine fuck it I’ll be honest Taehyung. I couldn’t fucking help myself falling in love with you, I could t help Falling in love with YN after, nor could I help falling in love with Jungkook.”

Yoongi watched as Jungkooks eyes widened, clearly, he didn’t know.

Jimin continues. “Hell fuck me I couldn’t help myself starting to like Hoseok, having a crush on Jin and I’m pretty sure I fucking like Yoongi too.”

Yoongi himself bristles at that, attention turning to seokjin who stands just as surprised as him.

Jimin doesn’t stop there and Yoongi worries the dom may say something he regrets but doesn’t intervene, somehow he can’t. “Yes, I came in here too fucking prideful and trust me no one is more embarrassed about that than me. I came in here with no real fucking connections and I fell in love with you like a lovesick puppy but I couldn’t stop myself because every single time I woke up next to you it was like witnessing an Angel being born, I’m fucking mesmerised by you. So yeah you know what I’ll accept my fault For being too kind but I never cheated on you and the fact you didn’t even hear me out, instantly coming to your own conclusions shows me just how much trust we had”

Jimins crying Taehyung is crying, Jungkook is crying, Seokjin, YN and Yoongi are frozen, and Hoseok enters the too room at that point, he too freezes.

The air is thick with tension, so thick Yoongi is sure if he goes to the kitchen and grabs a pair of scissors he could cut through it.

“How long was she messaging you for?” It wasn’t Taehyung asking this time, it was Jungkook.

“Since the show started, I haven’t spoken to her since the start of the second week.” Jimin answers, honestly.

Jungkook nods, accepting the answer. “Will you tell her?”

“Of course, I will.” Jimin looks around for his phone, typing out a message that reads:

I want to let you know that I won’t be able to make it to dinner after the show finishes or any other time, I’m sorry if this hurts you in any way, you are always welcome to contact the other dominant I sent you the information of if you need guidance. I wish you the best going forward.

Jimin hits send, immediately blocking and deleting her number. “See!” He shows them all. “I would never choose anyone or anything over you.”

“Tae?” Jungkook whispered. “I think he’s proved himself enough.”

Jimin watched Taehyung. Yoongi could see the panic on his face as the masseuse stood up closing the space between himself and Jimin. “I will forgive you, but I’m not ready to talk to you right now. I won’t leave but please just give me some space.”

“Tae-“ Jimin tried but Taehyung was already leaving the room. Jimin looked helplessly at Jungkook and YN. “Please say something.”

“I forgive you. I think TaeHyungie needs some time, he’s afraid of being hurt min.” Jungkook stood, wrapping Jimin in a brief hug before sitting back down. “I’m sorry for not giving you a chance to speak.”

Jimin sat himself between Jungkook and YN, a hand coming out to touch her leg. “Yn?”

“I just- I don’t know what to say.” She shrugs. Bottom lip in a slight pout. “I thought you cheated, you didn’t cheat, and you didn’t exactly go far to close her down, I can understand your reasons why but you didn’t say anything to anyone about it which makes it seem like it was a secret but I know that’s highly unlikely which is why I’m giving you my forgiveness.” She smiled weakly at him, shifting to rest her head on his shoulder.

Despite the ⅔ positive outcome of the conversation, Jimin didn’t look any happier, he looked haunted. Yoongi wanted to fix it all, he really did, he hated confrontation, hated angsty feelings but he couldn’t do anything. He also really fucking hated being helpless. He would make for a shitty therapist, he thought to himself, setting a mental reminder to praise Jin for his therapeutic abilities.

“We don’t have to do the date tonight if you don’t want to, I’ll forfeit the prize.” Jimin looked at YN, dead serious.

She shook her head no. “I want to go, it will be good for both of us, it will give Tae some time away from you to cool off.”

Yoongi marvelled at her ability to think for those around her even when her own feelings had been hurt just minutes prior.

Yoongi noticed Sejin approaching the door, he pointed to it and they all turned their heads. “I’ll go and check on Tae.” Yoongi stands, not wanting to hear the explanation a fourth time.

He could hear Sejins voice taking over the downstairs space as he climbed the stairs two at a time, only growing more concerned as he heard Taehyung crying. He didn’t bother knocking, nothing could stop him from stepping in and comforting the sad boy. “Tae,” Yoongi called gently. Taehyung instantly opened his arms, welcoming Yoongi in.

The second they touched it was like everything inside of Taehyung crumbled. “He d-didn't.” Taehyung hiccuped, Yoongi rubbed his back, doing all he could to support him. “He didn’t t-tell her, He said he wanted to try really try with me but he didn’t even tell some stupid submissive from some stupid club that he loved me.”

“Tae.” Yoongi started. “Baby-“ he pause at the pet name wondering if he should take it back for a second, he was stepping into uncharted territory but he decided he didn’t care, not right now. “I truly think it was a misunderstanding, I don’t think he was cheating or even considering it. He loves you, he really does adore you.”

“B-but then why.” Taehyung cried harder, and Yoongi could feel a damp patch forming on his shirt. “I don’t- am I not enough.”

“Of course you are enough Taehyung, don’t ever let me hear you doubting that again.” Yoongi said firmly, that was something he wouldn’t stand for. “Try and see it from Jimins perspective. You know what his job is, he interacts with people like that on a daily basis and he cannot help it when someone thinks more out of a situation than he does. Would you want Jimin to quit his job? Stop doing scenes? Stop helping people who want to explore something new?”

Taehyung shook his head no.

“You’re Jimins puppy right?” Yoongi asked, this was either going to fix the situation or fuck it up more but something had to be done. “Can you imagine if you met Jimin outside of here? That girl was alone with the desire to try something new safely and jimin provided that for her. Imagine how nice it would have been to have someone as kind as him helping you discover and explore something you really wanted. Now tell me you wouldn’t have gotten your hopes up even slightly.”

Taehyung was quiet for a few minutes. “I can’t.”

“Can't imagine it?”

Taehyung shook his head. “I can’t be mad at him can I?”

Finally, they were getting somewhere. “I don’t think it’s the right thing but you also have to feel your emotions as they are, sometimes we don’t always have explanations for the way we feel.”

“I can’t imagine not falling for him, even outside of here I would have been just as hopeful as that girl. Jimin was still wrong to not shut her down instantly but I should have let him talk more. I said horrible things to him, he is going to hate me.” Taehyung sniffles, engulfed in a bout of self-pity and hatred.

“He doesn’t hate you.” Yoongi chuckles lightly, trying to be as comforting as he could be. “It was a bad situation, everything will be fine.”

“I told him I would never trust him again, I told him to fuck off before you came inside…I said that he was a shitty Dom.” Yoongi did not know that.

Yoongi bit his lip, this situation was a mess. “Did you mean those things?”

“God no I was just so hurt.” Taehyung looked up at him eyes puffy.

Yoongi nodded, there wasn’t much he could do. There was only one solution. “I really think you should talk to Jimin.”

“Can.. can you stay Hyung? Please?”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, that would definitely make for an awkward talk. “You want me to stay when you talk to him?”

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded. “Please.”

“Okay.” Yoongi mumbled, considering it for s moment before agreeing. “Okay, just let me go and get him.”

By the time he got back downstairs Sejin had left, he would be sure to ask later what had happened but for now, he set his mind on getting Jimin and Taehyung talking. It was his personal project if you will. Jimin was still sitting on the couch, eyes glassy as he stared at the wall.

“Jimin?” Yoongi called out, getting no response. He cleared his throat, but still nothing. Huffing he slumped over to the Dom, waving his hands around his face like a maniac. “Jimin?” He tried again, this time the other finally taking notice.

“Hm?” Jimin blinks.

“Tae wants you.”

At that jimin is up in seconds, Yoongi swears he has never seen the other move so fast, not even for food. He stills only when reaching Taehyungs bedroom door, as though considering his options.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi sighs.

Jimin turns to look at Yoongi with fear in his eyes. “He hates me.”

Yoongis face falls flat, he had officially had enough. “If you don’t get inside that room I will actually lock you both in the restroom for 24 hours. Do not test me Park Jimin, I am covered in snot and you both sound exactly the same.”

Jimin gives him a hurt look but nevertheless, he walks into the room. Yoongi sits himself in the chair in the corner, giving them space. It definitely ft weird to be present for it but if it made Taehyung feel better he would always stay.

“Please tell me you don’t hate me.” Taehyung sniffled.

Jimin looked surprised, Yoongi could tell he definitely wasn’t expecting that. “Tae no I don’t hate you, I was sure until Yoongi Hyung came to get me that you’d never speak to me again.”

“Explain it again, please. I promise I’m listening to this time.” Taehyung asked, Yoongi kept his focus on his hands.

Hopefully, for the last time, Yoongi listened as Jimin explained the situation. This time Taehyung was listening, nodding along. “I still think you should have shut her down immediately.”

Jimin nodded at that, he wasn’t denying his fault and Yoongi respected him for it. “I should have, I thought I was doing the right thing but I wasn’t. I made a mistake. I can’t change that Taehyung but I won’t ever talk to her again.”

“You shouldn’t have felt like you had to block her. She was someone you were helping and it was unfair of me to react that way.” Yoongi didn’t disagree with that, it wasn’t the healthiest reaction but the sudden outburst of emotions was understandable.

Heartbreak can make you do fucked up things. So can love.

“Did you mean it when you said you’d never trust me again?” Jimin seemed afraid to ask.

“I think I’ll need a little time to get over it, I guess…” Taehyung took a deep breath, Jimin didn’t say anything. Yoongi watched him, his frame still as he held onto Taehyungs pinkie as though if he let go the man would simply disappear. “I was so afraid of having my heart broken when I see those messages I just went into self-protection mode.”

“I can understand that and I’ll do my best to reassure you, it hurt the way you instantly labelled me a cheater even though I’d been so open and honest with you. I’ve never lied to you Taehyung and being so open has honestly been fucking terrifying so when you jumped to the conclusion you hated me and wanted me to stay away from you it felt like one of the worst things I’d ever heard.” Yoongi hated the way Jimins voice quivered, situations like these were never any good, and everyone ended up hurt.

Taehyung jumped forward to hug Jimin, Yoongi could barely hear the apology he muttered. “I’m sorry I did that, it wasn’t fair to you.”

“I just need to know you trust me Tae, everything we have is nothing if there isn’t trust.” Yoongi knew Jimin wasn’t just talking about their romantic relationship, everyone in the house knew Taehyung was Jimins puppy in a submissive way, that was literally impossible to maintain if neither trusted the other.

“I do I just… I need a little time to get over it. Call me overly emotional.” Taehyung joked, an attempt at lightening the mood.

Jimin didn’t argue with him, although Yoongi had half expected him to. “I can understand that, I think I too will need a little time to get over the things you said.”

“So are we okay?” Taehyung asked.

“Mostly.” Jimin smiled, albeit only a little, things were better. Not completely fixed but not irreversibly broken. “Hug?”

Taehyung nodded, eyeing Yoongi. “Hyung, join us?”

“Oh no. Nope. You two have fun, I need a drink.” Yoongi huffed, shaking his head. He wouldn’t drink but still, he could dream.

Jimin paused, looking back at Yoongi before placing a kiss on Taehyungs head “Yoongi Hyung is really mean isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung agreed, laughing.

Yoongi was definitely not having that. “I played therapist all day you little ungrateful brats.”

“Yeah yeah, Hyung. We love you.” Taehyung shushes him and he can’t help but find it adorable. His chest swelled with pride at seeing them smiling again.

He truly hated when things weren’t normal. Yes, it would take a little healing, a few long conversations and maybe some trust rebuilding but things were gonna be okay.

Yoongi excused himself soon after. Feeling relieved when he found Namjoon sitting at the table as Seokjin prepared dinner.

“Need any help?” Yoongi called out.

Jin looked around before shaking his head. “I’ve got it covered just relax. How are they? ”

“Better.” Yoongi smiled. At that, Yoongi slumped onto a chair and rested his head upon his hands. Closing his eyes. “Where’s Yn, Jungkook and Hoseok.”

“Upstairs, they are helping her get ready for her date.” Seokjin replied.

Yoongi snorted at the idea of Hoseok playing beauty guru.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked as Yoongi rested his head on the table.

“Relaxing?” Yoongi responded dumbly.

Namjoon shifted one seat closer. “Can you help me with this Hyung?”

Yoongi was apparently appointed helper of the day. “What is it?”

“I’m seeking an opinion. I think if kind of figured out what I want to do, I’m just unsure if it’s the right choice.” Namjoon shut his laptop.

Yoongi considered it, not wanting to give bad advice. “What have you decided?”

“I’m going to finish my thesis, get my master's and then teach philosophy but if I win I’m going to use the money to help rent a space so I can have my own bookstore and teach philosophy part-time.” Namjoon smiles proudly, it’s as though for the first time Yoongi is seeing him at peace with himself.

“What are your doubts?”

“I like marine biology. What if I regret not doing something with that?”

“You always have time to go back and get another degree, you aren’t limited to doing one thing forever. If you want to teach philosophy and run a bookstore then do it, it won’t be easy but I’m sure if you need help there are seven of us here willing to do whatever we can. You’re looking at things like you have to choose right now and whatever you choose is irreversible. So what if you make a choice and it isn’t entirely right, you can always try again. Life isn’t one fit-all Namjoon-ah. Follow your heart as cheesy as that might sound do what truly brings you happiness. Forget everything else, forget what ifs, do what you know brings you joy right now.” Yoongi finished, pretty proud of his speech especially seeing the way Namjoon smiled back at him, dimples on show.

“Thank you Hyung, I can’t wait to tell YN.” Namjoon picked up his laptop, taking it out of the room before sitting back at the table, this time carrying a stack of plates.

Jimin and YN came down the stairs hand in hand, as always Jimin looked well put together, if it wasn’t for the puffy eyes you would never be able to tell that a difficult situation had broken out. YN was the definition of beautiful, a red dress, her hair wavy, makeup not too heavy but the smokey eyeshadow brought her eyes to life. Yoongi was tempted to turn them both around and take them upstairs to fuck, lazy fuck because he was tired but still fuck.

Maybe tomorrow.

Seokjin and Namjoon wandered over to YN, from the blush on her cheeks they were complimenting her an unhealthy amount.

“Where are you taking her?” Yoongi asked Jimin.

Jimin smiled at him. “A restaurant, then to a light display and then a walk.”

“Get her flowers.” Yoongi advised. “Actually , just one.”

Jimin frowned. “Why? I could get her a bouquet.”

“She’s awful at keeping flowers alive.” Yoongi jokes and Jimin pushed his arm, shaking his head in laughter.

“I’m great at keeping flowers alive.” YN must have overheard them. Yoongi rolled his eyes, opening his arms to her.

He breathed in her perfume, whatever she had on smelt beautiful. Yoongi pulled her closer, nosing at her neck it was a soft floral scent, Yoongis favourite.

“Cars here, we gotta go.” Jimin declared but Yoongi didn’t let go. “Hyung, stop hogging my date.”

Yoongi reluctantly let go, not before pulling YN in for a kiss, eyeing Jimin the whole time.

Jimins face hardens. “Don’t I get one too Yoongi?”

“Fuck off.” Yoongi laughed. Walking away from the pair.

Yoongi could feel Jimins glare at him and knew exactly what he had done, he hadn’t exactly forgotten the conversation they had during their challenge the other day, Jimin clearly said if he dropped honorifics it meant he was acting as a dominant, not as a boyfriend or friend. A part of Yoongi loved the fact Jimin couldn’t do anything, not right now at least.

Yoongi couldn’t help pushing, Jimin looked hot when he was pissed. YN seemed to have noticed something but didn’t bring it up, Jimin steadied her as she put her shoes on and then they were off.

…and Yoongi was horny but it would have to wait as seokjin started to bring the meat over to the table.

“Where is Jungkook?” Namjoon asked Hoseok as he trotted into the room. “And Tae?”

“Jungkook is coming down, just changing his shirt. I haven’t seen Taehyung.” Hoseok turned to Yoongi. “Hyung?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Not since I came down.”

Jungkook walked into the room, eyes focused on the table of food.

Hoseok patted him on the shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Jungkook where is Tae? Dinner is ready.”

“Oh.” Jungkook looked up at Hoseok. “He’s upstairs. I checked but he is asleep.”

Jin signed, frowning. “Poor thing, I’ll save him a plate.”

“Soooo…can we eat?” Jungkook rocked onto his heels.

“Yes yes, eat, god it’s like you’ve not been fed.” Seokjin laughed, taking a seat.

Jungkook made a look as though to say “Really?” He took some salad into his bowl. “Didn’t exactly have time to eat.”

“It was definitely dramatic.” Namjoon added, sliding a piece of meat into his mouth.

Yoongi didn’t have much to offer the conversation, focusing his attention on satisfying his forgotten hunger. It was already 8 pm and he was wiped out. He had some work to complete but that could be left for another day, he was wiped out.

Yoongi wasn’t afraid of emotions nor was he cold but when there was an influx of emotions going around he easily got overwhelmed by them, despite his deep understanding of emotions he never much bothered discussing them only when it was necessary. Maybe that was why he was so tired now.

“I’ll do the dishes.” Namjoon offers, practically all the food gone spare the plate that had been put aside for a still-sleeping Taehyung.

“What did Sejin say earlier?” Yoongi asked, remembering the man showing up for a while.

“He saw what happened but wanted to give us space to resolve it, he had to check to make sure it was okay but once he see it was under control he went back to his van. He did warn us no fighting and we have to replace to plates Taehyung smashed.”

Jungkook chuckled at that. “I will can’t believe Taehyung smashed plates. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah it has, I’m going to have an early night. I’m exhausted.” Yoongi huffed, tucking in his chair before climbing the stairs. He knew he could get into his own bed but something about relaxing in Jin's room, stealing his sweater, felt eighth. So he did. It didn’t take long after brushing his teeth and changing his clothes his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.

He was awoken much later as a sleepy Jin crawled in beside him. Yoongi lets himself be swaddled up in Jin's arms. “My baby had an emotionally draining day.”

“What am I? Your son?” Yoongi grumbles. “I’m not a baby.”

“Shut up and let me have this.” Jin scolds, placing a kiss on Yoongis's head. “I’m really proud of how you stepped up today.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi was half asleep but he still managed to smile a little at Jin's praise.

They both sat up a little as the front door closed, giggles growing louder, bodies thumping against the wall. Jimin and YN must have been back, possibly drunk from the way they did not worry about those sleeping in the house. A bedroom door closed and the house fell into silence once more.

“Kids.” Seokjin chuckled, pulling Yoongi back down to the bed.

Despite the dramas of the day he was where he wanted to be, wrapped in the arms of one of the many men he loved, with the other people he loved just down the hall. Everything was right in the world.

Whatever happened next they would face it together.

[thepaperpanda]

“I concealed my feelings for you” || Leto Atreides x Reader

gif made by Cass - please credit us if you use the gif.

Summary:  though you are Leto's personal guard, you develop certain feelings for him. Imagine your surprise when you discover that Duke reciprocates all of your feelings...

Warnings: smut - interaction is strictly forbidden to minors

Word count: ~ 12,1k 😲

Pairing: Leto Atreides x reader

Authors: Fenrir & Cass

As you walked, the sound of heavy combat boots filled the corridor, you improved your gloves. Another day of work was about to begin.

During such a time, no job was easy, but you never complained about yours. Keeping an eye on Duke Leto and his family was an honor unlike any other. You felt proud.

Duke had many men fighting for him, but you and a few others were his closest guards. By staying near him at all times, you were responsible for keeping him and his family safe. You were the leader of the guard, so when Leto was present, you had to be there when others kept an eye on everything else. Your name was called by Paul, and your thoughts had been interrupted. 

"Y/N! Wait!"

It was only natural that you stopped, smiled, and bowed a little. "Good morning, Paul. How are you?" 

"I am fine, thank you," the young man nodded, returning the smile. "Do you remember what you promised me?”

You shook your head after letting out a soft laugh. "I know what I promised. Training. But I also keep in mind that it will only happen if your father lets me go for some time."

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe... He'll agree if you ask him?"

"Later, Paul. Now, I heard that Duncan was looking for you." You said and ruffled his hair. 

Paul pushed your hand away and laughed softly. The two of you walked away together soon afterward.

Duke raised his head from the document he was reading as you entered his office. His usual attire consisted of a shirt, fitted material trousers, and a material jacket bearing the emblem of the House of Atreides on the lapel, the entire set in shades of black.

This room had a breathtaking panoramic view of the yellowness of the desert, the spice refinery, as well as the airstrip.

"Good morning, Y/N. I see you're earlier today, is there anything wrong?" Leto asked in a nonchalant tone, cocking one of his thick brows as his brown eyes looked directly at Y/E/C eyes.

You shook your head. "Well, as far as I remember my duty is to stay close and keep you safe, my Lord," you summed up, relaxing a little. 

Duke was not a friend of yours, but you worked long enough for the boundaries to be pushed into more friendly territories. "I hope your night was peaceful. From what I heard, there were no problems."

Leto's eyes measured your face as he said quietly, "No problems except for our shields going down without any apparent reason."

"Apparently shields' system isn't running optimally, but I will make sure that someone takes care of it." You said, remembering how you were woken up in the middle of the night. Having taken care of it, you spent most of the night making sure the place was secure.

Duke continued to read the document. "Paul insists on training with you all the time, if you don't count the hours that he spends reading about Fremen."

"I'm flattered that your son appreciates my combat skills enough to train with me, and I'm glad to see him making progress," you said simply. "You should be proud, my Lord."

The corners of his lips curled into a smile. "I am. And I trust you enough to entrust his well-being to you. I hope that you will become a mentor to him."

As you nodded, you began to walk around the room, making sure everything was fine. "Of course, my Lord. It's my duty to serve you and your family, so being Paul's mentor shouldn't be a problem." You looked through the window briefly.

The document was signed by Leto and placed on the wooden desk's counter. He then stood up and silently approached you. "My trip to the spice refinery would be a good chance to put your piloting skills to the test."

As you looked over your shoulder, you gave him a cocky smile. "Are you sure about that, my Lord? I don't want to embarrass you by showing you how skilled I am," you joked.

His strong hand was placed to your nape a second later as he whispered, "Did I not make myself clear? I have faith in you."

You bite the inside of your cheek, cooling yourself down. It was stupid and shouldn't have happened, but after working for Duke for a few years, you fell for him. You had no idea what was it, but something simply pulled you to him. "Shall we go then, sir?"

"There is still time. I'll have to wait for Liet Kynes to join us. You need to don your tactical gear," Leto ordered in a low voice.

"Your wish is my command, but I don't want to leave you alone." You reached out to cup his hand in your own. Although you couldn't say it out loud, there were more reasons why you didn't want to leave.

"You're tense," Leto whispered, allowing his hand to rest on yours. "I've noticed that you've been acting tense since you arrived. Is my presence making you feel uncomfortable?" He asked as he let go of your nape and approached the window.

As you cleared your throat, you rolled your head and shoulders trying to relax as much as possible. "It's probably because I am here, keeping you and your family safe, it is important to me."

"How old are you, Y/N?"

"I am 25 years old, sir, and I've lived here for almost four years now." You replied. "Why do you ask, sir?"

He rubbed on his beard, not looking at you. "I remember your father," Duke shrugged. "He was a noble man. I also remember your first day of service following your father's death. Your behavior has changed considerably since then. For those years, I grew to know you."

As you thought about your father and his death, you smiled sadly. To be honest, you wished he were here, but all you could do was continue his work. "Since that day, much has changed. Especially since we came to this place, it seems to be falling down. I'm merely concerned for your safety," you said and gently stroked his shoulder. "The last thing I want to do is let you down."

Leto kept his head straight no matter what; despite the fact that he grew close to you, not something that should have happened between a master and a subject, he tried to separate work from private life, even though he knew how you thought of him, not only as your Lord but first and foremost as a man. "Thank you for your devotion to the House Atreides," he said as he placed his palm over yours and felt how soft your skin was beneath his calloused fingers.

Your own fingers moved a tiny bit to feel more of his touch. This made you wonder how his rough hands would feel against your hips or grasping your waist as he pounds into you and whispers all sorts of filthy stuff into your ear. Clearing your throat you slowly removed your hand. "Dedication to the House Atreides is my life and duty. I am ready to sacrifice it if it means your safety. Just like my father."

He abruptly turned his head to face you, his brown eyes glistening slightly with the light feeling of the chamber as he studied your face. "My gratitude to you is the same as my gratitude to your father. Now, Y/N, go get ready. Please make sure that the ornithopters are ready to go."

Watching his lips as he talked, you wished you could just kiss them and feel them against your own. "Of course, sir. I'll see you in a bit." With those words, you walked off to take care of everything as Duke requested.

As you changed and later checked on the ornithopters, your mind kept wandering back to Leto constantly. Maybe it was time to stop pretending?

When Liet Kynes arrived at the headquarters, the mission was still being planned. 

The plane was piloted by Leto, who promised to give it to you on the way back. He decided to wear his greyish armor.

Despite being a pilot as well, you were more of a down-to-earth person, but this was a great opportunity to watch him pilot the ornithopter. It was both a blessing and a curse to be in such a tight space with Leto. "I don't see why I need to be a pilot when you are so good at it."

Through the headset, he told you that no one is infallible. "It's nice to have a second pilot who has decent skills."

You nodded your head. "It's nice that someone acknowledges my skills. Not many do so."

"I always wonder why. Maybe it's because there aren't many female pilots among us."

"I don't see many women among the soldiers and pilots in the unit. The only time I see women are your concubine and the girls who always follow her."

It's true, Y/N," Leto replied, his gaze focused on the horizon and refinery that was already visible. My father was of the opinion that men are better soldiers. I disagree. I think that women are more careful and can see more things. It's in their nature."

You chuckled, moving your hands down your legs, "My father, his friends, and even my mother were sure that I wouldn't make it through the training, but here I am. Duke Leto's personal guard," you said and joked, "When I look at other women, I don't imagine myself in their place... Unless I married a Duke or something. Then maybe I could bear it."

There was a slight smirk on Leto's face. "So that's why you haven't married yet? Most women your age already have significant others."

"Most women my age are more concerned with buying stylish dresses, while I worry that the man I admire is taken and out of reach," you concluded, looking at him briefly.

This time, he smirked more to himself; evidently, he had not been misled by all the signs he had seen previously - you were interested in him, not as your Lord.

It was hard to believe such a confession came out of your mouth. Your statement was honest, you love him as a person, not just as your Duke. Even though you knew it was impossible, you wanted to be his. Turning your head to the side, you avoided more awkward conversation.

He suddenly placed his hand on your thigh, and even through your armor you could feel the touch. "I appreciate your kindness."

Not expecting his touch, you flinched a bit, but instead of trying to get away, you put your hand on top of his. "The true thank you comes from me, sir."

Turning his head, he gazed into your eyes. With a nod, he ended the conversation, and soon his hand was back on the steering wheel.

You closely watched Leto's every move and his surroundings. 

You didn't like this place, as the refinery made you feel uneasy since any threat could come from anywhere. Being alert didn't come from duties alone, and now that you knew that, you remained close to your Duke.

"Hey, Y/N, what's up with you today? Does anything bother that pretty little head of yours?" Duncan gently poked your shoulder from behind as Duke and Kynes went to another area of the refinery.

You glanced at him immediately shaking your head, twitching a little. "I just keep thinking about shields going down last night, and hope it won't happen again tonight."

"Harkonnens left us with old equipment that should have already been replaced."

"It still makes me uneasy. Someone can take advantage of this kind of opportunity, which makes me worry," You sighed and smiled at him. "Have you heard? Apparently, Duke wants Paul to have one more mentor."

Idaho chuckled quietly, "I thought Paul was joking. With all due respect, you're not as skilled in combat as I am."

Feeling offended right now has made you gasp. "I may not be as skilled as you, but I am skilled enough to kick your ass; Paul enjoys training with me."

"I'd enjoy training with such a pretty woman as well if I were a young man."

You teased him, "Oh so because you are older than him, you can't enjoy it anymore? We should try sparring one day. Show Paul how real warriors do it."

"I'm up to this idea, little one."

As you gasped, you wanted to say something about the way he called you, but there was nothing you could say. This man was indeed a giant when compared to you. He was at least twice your size. Crossing your arms over your chest, you turned away, muttering angrily. "Just so you know, I'm not going to be soft on you."

"I count on that," Duncan brushed his fingers against the skin on your nape as he walked away, winking at you.

Initially scoffing, you rolled your eyes, but then you smiled before you walked away to find Leto.

Duke was already close to the ornithopter, checking the settings and instructing one of his men about the spice.

You joined him and took your usual place near him, getting back to your usual duties.

Once everything was set, and Duke farewelled Kynes, he looked at you. "Change of places. You're taking us home."

"Home? Already? Did something happen?” You asked with a frown, fully aware of Lato's full schedule.

"Yes. I told you that we only had to visit the refinery. You'll finally get some time off, Y/N. I think we all do need that."

"My work for you never ends, my Lord, but it will be nice to have a moment to refresh after this trip," you nodded. "Let's get you home, sir."

Once the troops and Duke returned to the headquarters, Leto let you go, assuring you that his guards would keep an eye on things, under the leadership of Duncan.

His plans for the evening were shattered when Reverend Mother needed to meet with his concubine and son first.

As Leto returned to his room, he changed into fresh clothes before heading to his office for a little more work on spice production and storage.

It wasn't something you liked to do. Being away from Duke made you feel strange. However, there was no fighting with the Duke, even though you felt your work wasn't properly done.

After returning to your room, you took a shower. Your body hated this planet and you felt the need to wash every time you returned from the outside. You hummed loudly, feeling the warm water washing over your body. 

The shower didn't take you long even if it was your favorite part of the day - you had better plans.

After drying yourself off, you put on fresh clothes and stopped in front of a mirror. It was frightening how different you always looked. You were always dressed in armor that felt heavy on your shoulders with your hair in a tight bun during duty. Off duty, you wore a loose shirt tucked into your pants with your sleeves rolled up. Your hair was nicely resting on your shoulders. 

You should be resting just like Leto ordered, but you decided to visit him.

When you were walking along the corridor, you bumped into Duncan, still in his armor. "Well, well, look at you, Y/N, I didn't know you were so beautiful," he circled you like a predator would circle the prey. "Where are you heading?"

Giggling innocently you shrugged, giving him a small spin. "You never saw me in regular clothes, dear. I am just taking a walk. I was never taught how to rest."

"Mind me joining you?"

"Aren't you a bit busy now? I am off duty indeed, but as far as I know, you aren't, right, big guy?" You patted his chest playfully.

He caught your hand and rubbed its top with his gloved thumb. "You owe me a walk."

Humming, you raised an eyebrow. "First sparring, and now a walk? I would never take you for a needy type, Duncan."

He patted your shoulder and walked away, not saying anything else.

Once he was gone, you headed straight to Leto's office, but you stopped in front of the door for a moment. Is it worth it to destroy your life and career? Whether it was or wasn't, you were tired of hiding all your feelings. You knocked on the giant door and waited for permission to enter.

"Come in," his voice roared within the room so you could hear him.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door and walked inside.

Leto raised his head from atop a desk covered in papers. His eyebrow cocked as he saw you. "Y/N?"

He couldn't lie, he was content that you came, he secretly hoped you would. Never in his lifetime had a single thought about having an affair crossed his mind until a few weeks back when he noticed a slight change in your behavior. Since then, he had been catching himself thinking about how it would be with a younger woman, and with you especially.

You closed the door and stepped slowly towards his desk. "I simply missed my Duke. I couldn't sit still in my room while my thoughts were constantly drifting to you."

He listened to you carefully, not saying anything at the beginning. His eyes observed your every move carefully. "How come, Y/N? I thought I let you rest from your duties until the next day?"

"I didn't come here because of my duties," you said resting your palms against the wooden desk. "I am here for a personal reason."

"For personal reasons, you say?" He put his golden pen on the pile of documents and got up from his seat, slowly circling the desk. "I'm intrigued."

"I hope you are, sir," you said, taking a few steps toward him. Once you stood in front of him your hand rested against his stomach before moving up his chest. "There are many things I have always wanted to do and say."

He rested his ass against the countertop of his desk. One of his hands instinctively found its way to your hip. Leto's eyes measured your face carefully as your palm wandered over his chest, covered by the white shirt he wore. "Confess then."

"I fall for you. In fact, I shouldn't since you are Duke and I am just your subordinate. Yet I love you like any normal man," you confessed as your hand moved to gently touch his neck only to cup his cheek soon after. "I always wanted to touch you, kiss you..."

He observed you carefully, listening to your words and feeling the warmth spreading all over his body. His other hand cupped your cheek as he lean down and crushed his lips against yours.

Taking aback by this pleasant surprise, you moaned into the kiss. Immediately you returned the kiss, grasping his shirt tightly.

Leto easily deepened the kiss, his arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you tightly to his chest. Soon he turned around with you in his arms and easily picked you up, sitting you on his desk.

Pulling off for a moment to catch your breath, you looked at him. It was almost impossible to believe that it was actually happening. You expected everything, but this was something different. With a soft smile, you pulled him in for another kiss.

His strong hand grasped your waist as he let his tongue dance with yours in a blissful kiss.

You put your legs around his waist to pull him a bit closer, kissing him back. "Fuck,” you gasped, pulling away from another long kiss. Trying to catch your breath you only looked at him. "My Lord."

A loud grunt escaped his lips as he kissed your cheek, brushing it with his beard. He was desperate for your touch. He couldn't comprehend why he felt that way, yet he didn't know how to stop himself; despite the fact that it was so wrong, it felt so right, even though he was being unfaithful to the concubine who gave him his son years ago. His kisses moved to your neck as he almost grunted into your ear. After yet another passionate kiss, and his hand placed on the back of your upper thigh, he told you casually, "I'll meet you later. Leave now, I still have work to do."

You stayed in place, playing with his shirt. "You promise, sir?"

He offered you yet another heated kiss. "I never broke any of my promises. You should know that."

"I just want to be sure," you whispered against his lips.

He rested his forehead against yours. "Leave now. Paul, Jessica, or anyone else can enter here at any moment," Leto pulled away from you and returned to his previous spot like nothing had happened.

"Yes, sir. I can't wait for later," you got up from the table and walked out of the room as if nothing had happened, but you were shaking inside. Your look was a little messy, so you did your best to improve it before someone could see you.

You were unfortunate enough to bump into Leto's son almost immediately after leaving his office.

He measured your face with a careful eye, just as his father had moments ago. "Y/N? What are you doing here at that hour? Are you okay? Your eyes are watery, maybe you should let doctor Yueh check your vitals?"

In the meantime, Leto covered his face with his hands. He asked himself out loud, "What the fuck are you doing? Her father was your friend and asked you to look after his only daughter, but this is certainly not what he had in mind. What the fuck is wrong with you? She could be your daughter," he stood up and walked to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of strong booze and pouring himself a drink. The thing that happened was already wrong, and he knew he should control himself more, but once you got close to him, he felt like he didn't have control. His senses were running wild. As a result of the kisses you shared, he was unable to think straight.

At the same time, on the other side of the door, shaking your head, you gave Paul a soft smile.

"No, Paul. It's fine, there is no need to bother doctor Yueh at this hour. You know that my body isn't taking my stay here well, and I was outside with your father today," you lied a tad, trying to make it as logical as possible. "It's probably because of this. No need to worry."

"I hope you were having a mask on, in case of being out," Paul said, visibly concerned about your well-being. "The spice is a hallucinogen and might affect people who didn't have contact with it earlier," he rubbed your shoulder. "Were you meeting my father at that hour? Any problems with shields again?"

Did you have a mask on? At this point you didn't even remember, maybe that's why you suddenly were brave enough to confess? There was no turning back now anyway. "Yes. I was telling him about their state. There was an attempt at fixing them today. Let's hope we all get a good night's sleep tonight."

He smiled at you and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, "Hopefully." I'm glad we have friends like you. Listen, Y/N, I heard you know a lot about Fremen. Would you tell me some stories? Not now, but one day, if you'll have more spare time. Forgive me for keeping you, I need to speak with my father. Hope this night will be calm," Paul nodded as a farewell and went to his father's office.

You turned on your hill and waved at him before adding, "I will gladly tell you some stories. I already can't wait for this."

He knew it was wrong. He knew he was about to destroy his own vision of himself as a noble man with honor. But he couldn't get you out of his head.

Duke Leto tried to concentrate on his work. Even meeting with Duncan didn't help him get his mind back on track. He discussed potential threats caused by faulty shields with his friend, but his thoughts seemed to drift away every now and then. Duncan noticed a difference in his master's behavior and advised him to get some rest before another day full of responsibilities. Following his farewell with his men, Leto returned to the headquarters.

When he finally fulfilled his promise, it was in the middle of the night. 

While he walked to your room, the path he had taken many times before, Leto couldn't stop his heart from beating faster and faster. Before leaving his office, he washed his face with cold water, hoping it would help ease the fire burning in his heart, spreading all over his body, intoxicating his mind and soul. Unfortunately, it didn't help.

Your door was knocked lightly by him as he stood in front of it.

Your ears perked up immediately when you heard the knocking. Of course, you weren't sleeping. When he promised you, it was impossible for you to sleep. After waiting for who knows how long, he finally came to you. On the inside and outside, you were shaking. As you got up from the bed, you took a few deep breaths and opened the door.

He was standing with his back to your door, still considering the possibility of turning back. But there was no actual turning back. It's been a long time since he was with a woman and to speak truly, he missed the soft, feminine skin against his.

"Get inside before someone sees you," you whispered, moving your hand up to his back before grabbing the fabric of his shirt and gently pulling him inside to quickly close the door. "The last thing we want is rumors, right?"

Entering your room, he checked twice to make sure no one had seen him.

Your chamber was much smaller than his, much darker as well. He didn't bother himself by checking the interior out, instead, he wrapped arms around your waist and leaned his head down, kissing you hungrily without saying anything more.

Letting out a quiet laugh, you immediately kissed him back, cupping his cheeks as if he was the lover that you hadn't seen in months. You couldn't believe you waited so long for him and then this happened. How stupid of you.

As easily as back in his office, he picked you up. One of his hands slipped under your ass, the other wrapped around your waist as he kept on kissing you, walking with you to your bed.

When your back hit the mattress, you softly moaned into the kiss. Pulling away from him, you smiled, stroking his cheek. "You aren't wasting any time."

He looked down at you, realizing how beautiful you were. "Thought this is what you want."

"Oh, I want it, my Lord. I can't wait to be yours and yours only," you confessed, gently stroking his cheek. "I want to be yours."

He looked down at you before yet another kiss was placed on your lips. You tasted wonderful, and he didn't want to take his tongue off your lips.

It was impossible to pull away from him. You didn't want to be away from him ever again. Even if you had to sneak around with him, you were more than ready for this. He was your Duke and master in many aspects.

His hands were placed on your hip as he continued the make-out session. Soon, Leto's fingers started undoing the buttons of your shirt.

Giggling against his lips, you let him do as he pleased; there was nothing you wanted to hide from him. You weren't ashamed of your body nor the scars that decorated it, so once all the buttons were opened, you pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside.

He pulled away to look down at your body; he admired the slight curves of your waist and the roundness of your full breasts. Instantly, his hand wandered to the belt of your trousers.

"You may be a Duke but you are with me now, love," you whispered, grasping his hand as the other started to undo his buttons. "I remove something. So do you. I can't be the only one naked here."

He smiled at you as he sat on his knees between your legs. A nod allowed you to undo his shirt, and once it was open, he tossed it to the ground.

"I always wanted to see how you looked under that uniform and I have to say you look better without it," you said, gently touching every inch of his skin.

He looked at your small palm placed on his tanned, broad chest, caressing the tensed muscles of his abdomen. Taking one of your breasts in his hands, he gently squeezed it. "Don't be silly, Y/N."

"I am not being silly. I am being honest," you summed up, easily slipping a hand under his pants. I wanted to see you naked. I wanted to see what you look like between my legs or when you are buried deep inside my cunt."

He smirked proudly, letting his hands wander down your body. He unbuckled your belt, opened your fly, and tugged on your pants to slip them off your legs. "I wanna see you cumming all over my cock, Y/N. I wanna see you arching your back when I eat your cunt out."

Moving away from him, you sat further on the bed. With your legs slightly open, you pointed at him and moved your finger to call him closer.

Leto licked his lips, looking at your slightly spread legs, and crawled to you, picking one of your legs up and kissing the calf.

Slowly you lay down and watched him, taking in the nice sight. You will remember it forever.

Keeping your calf in his hands, he sat up on his knees, slowly kissing up, moving to your inner thigh. He repeated the action with your other leg, gently touching your knee with his hand.

"Oh, so this is how you like it? Just play with me when I am waiting here?" You hummed.

His glance slowly moved to your face as he dragged his tongue up your inner thigh.

"Jessica is such a lucky woman," you whispered quietly when you caught his attention. "She really is if she has such a lovely view every night."

He murmured, kissing further up your thigh. "It's been a while since she had had such a view," Leto said openly, focusing on the warmth of your skin.

Sitting up a bit, you moved your hand through his thick locks. "You poor thing. She is missing a lot by not taking proper care of a man like you."

He licked your calf again and then a trail up until your inner thigh, pushing you lightly back on the bed as he reached your panties.

"You will be taken care of. I promise, my Lord," you promised, getting comfortable on your back.

He kissed your folds through the material of your panties and looked up at you.

Biting your lip, you looked him straight in the eye. You could already feel how wet you were, and his little games made you impatient. "I want to feel those lips, my Lord, so please do not torture me like this."

He smiled a tad too proudly as he shifted the material of your panties aside. He dragged his tongue up your pussy, from its bottom right to the clitoris, looking up at you to check your reaction. Your pussy was so pretty, little lips covered the prettiest pinkish entrance he had ever seen.

As you looked right at him with an innocent look, you asked, "You like it, my Lord?"

He hummed deeply for yes, sending some vibes directly into your already vulnerable spot. Shortly after that, he attacked you like a hungry dog, flicking his tongue all over your pussy, slurping, making all of the obscene noises you could ever hear. His hands grasped your hips, holding you strongly in place.

Gasping loudly, you pressed your back into the mattress. After all those lonely nights, this was better than you could have ever imagined.

His beard scratched at your pussy as well as your thighs, especially when he pulled you by your hips, wrapped your legs around his neck, and picked your lower body up so you basically rested only your shoulders against the bed. One of his hands supported your lower back while the other slipped down your body to your boobs, teasing the nipples, and then to your neck.

With a quiet moan, you shifted your body to make the position more comfortable. "Oh, Leto!" You sighed deeply, trying to stop yet another moan.

His tongue teased your entrance to quickly move up and circle your clitoris as he kept eating your pussy out. He was humming, playing with your boobs, and occasionally rubbing your arched back. Soon, he put two of his fingers into your mouth. His fingers muffled your another moan. Humming, you started sucking on his digits, coating them with saliva as you rolled your tongue around them.

When his digits were fully covered in your saliva, he pulled them out, only to slowly slip them into your pussy, pumping them back and forth.

This time you moaned loudly, not caring if someone would hear you. You touched yourself so many times, believing your fingers were his, but you fooled yourself. The size and thickness of his fingers made you feel what you could not feel yourself.

"That's it, little one, sing for me. I bet you've been fucking yourself before, imagine us doing things, huh?" He asked when he pulled his mouth out of your pussy for a second, laying you back on the bed to finger your pussy deeper and faster. "What naughty things were you doing, hmm?"

Softly whining, you grabbed his wrist just to hold onto something. "I was fingering my sweet little pussy until I cum, whimpering your name."

"Aren't you such a naughty, little shit?" He asked, only to close his lips on your pussy again, slurping further and flickering his tongue over your entrance, whenever he was pulling his fingers out. Leto started feeling highly uncomfortable within his trousers so he pressed his free hand to the hardened bulge, grunting.

As you whimpered and bit your lips, you arched your back in pleasure. Your climax was approaching and you shivered under Duke's touch.

"Come on, sweetheart, cum for your Duke," Leto encouraged before he fully slipped his fingers out of you to replace them with nothing but his tongue, slipping it as far as he could into your cunt. Your taste was intoxicating his senses, making him grunt as he kept on touching himself through his pants.

It was impossible to hold it any longer, you didn't even want to. You chanted his name loudly, not holding back any longer. He licked your pussy dry after you spilled all your juices all over his tongue. Then he raised his head, and your cum could be seen on his lips and beard.

He crawled up your body, licking his trail until he reached your lips.

You kissed him, wrapping arms around his neck.

He kissed you but soon pulled away and sat on the edge of your bed, wiping his lips. "Listen, Y/N. You're beautiful, you have a gorgeous body, and you're driving my senses wild, you're tempted and intoxicating but I think I can't," Leto said openly, picked up his shirt, and put it on. "This is wrong. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done those... Things to you," he considered his words and gave you one last glare before he left the room.

You watched him leave as you sat there. What? What?! He left you?! Just like that after what he did?! How could he?! You dared to open up to him about everything and even give yourself to him and he just tossed you aside, trying to sugarcoat it with some benevolent intentions?!

The tears filled your eyes as you flopped back on the bed, covering your face with your hands.

Leto didn't get back to his bedroom either. He decided to return to his office and eventually get some sleep on the couch there. He felt like a complete dick for dumping you like that but there was the line he didn't want to cross - in the end, he had a significant other, a woman who gave him a son. Leto lay on the couch, put one hand to his forehead, and cursed several times, being completely torn by the situation and your confessions.

The next day came too quickly and he had to return to his ordinary duties, to act like nothing had ever happened.

Of course, you had to do it yourself which wasn't easy. You felt tired and your eyes hurt, thanks to the previous night's crying. Sighing, you pulled your hair into a ponytail, leaving a few strands out. A bit of change won't kill you. Probably.

With a loud sigh, you left your room. You weren't ready to meet Leto but it was your duty and there was nothing you could do about it.

He wasn't present at the briefing, for he was spending the morning with his son, as Idaho told you.

Of course, he did. Maybe it was for good, you wouldn't have to watch his face. That would remind you of yesterday's night too much.

Idaho asked you to help him take a look at the airstrip and near the shields. 

When you returned, you met Duke and Paul.

You bowed your head and smiled at Paul. "How are you today, Paul? I hope everything is going well for you," by saying this, you focused entirely on Paul, not much-paying attention to Leto.

Leto looked at you briefly, nodding his head at Duncan.

Paul smiled at you and assured you everything was right. "Father promised to take me with him to visit one of the crawlers. Doctor Lyet mentioned it's likely to see the sandworm, they're attracted by rhythmical noises harvesters make."

"I am sure you really want to see it, huh? It's really something special," you said with a soft chuckle, then you finally looked at Leto. "Shall Duncan and I get ready as well, sir?"

Duke nodded. "Yes. We'll take one ornithopter to get there and check the crawler from the distance. In case you need the weapon with you."

When he and Paul were leaving, Leto briefly touched your palm, giving you one more glance.

Instead of responding to the touch or the gaze, you turned to Duncan and smiled as sweetly and innocently as you had done to Leto previously. Since he played with you like that, you could do the same.

He wasn't happy with the way you looked at his friend. To be fully honest, he hated it, but at least Duncan was content with the unexpected situation.

Idaho talked to you and told you about things he saw while being with Fremens until Leto ordered him at the back of the ornithopter, to sit with Paul while you were about to sit with him in the front.

Idaho's stories didn't bother you, in fact, you really enjoyed them, so having to sit next to Duke made you frown. "With all due respect, my Lord, but shouldn't Paul sit with you? The boy will have a better view from the front than from the back.'

"Don't undermine my decisions, Y/N, and do as I say," he cut your whining, putting the headset on.

You whispered through the headset, making sure only Leto could hear you. "I did yesterday, and where did it lead me?" Then you looked over your shoulder at Duncan and shrugged a tad. "Sorry. I tried."

Leto didn't comment on your words even though he knew he should tell you something or at least apologize for his behavior. 

Once the ornithopter got up in the air, Leto made sure to mute Paul, Duncan, and Gurney who joined up so he could say, "Don't be angry about yesterday, Y/N. I'm sorry."

Laughing softly, you did the same as he did. Do you really mean this or is this some sort of rule the Duke should follow? Apologize to the woman he almost fucked?"

When you used that one particular word, he gave you a glance, his eyebrow raised. "I apologize for not fucking your cunt yesterday. Does it sound better?"

"A little, but it doesn't change anything. I barely dragged myself out of bed this morning," you said. ”I bet your woman was happy that night because I don't believe you took care of that burden on yourself."

He remained silent for a moment, replying briefly to Gurney who asked Leto about issues with shields. Afterward, he returned to the topic. "Believe it or not, I was alone in my office."

"Exactly like me in my bedroom. Thanks to you, my Lord. The man I loved and respected completely broke my trust, as well as something else," you muttered, staring at him.

He remained silent until you reached the crawler and observed it from above. 

"Everything looks well here!" Idaho announced.

"No signs of sandworms," Gurney added as he and Idaho took Paul at the back of the machine. "You can sit us down, we'll gather some spice for examination, Leto," Gurney said.

Leto landed carefully and once he and you were all alone, he took off the headset and looked at you, simply cupping your chin in his fingers and pulling you into a kiss.

Taken by surprise you quickly kissed him back. You called these mixed signals. First, he kissed you, then almost spent the night with you, and now you're back to kissing. You pulled away, taking off the headset. "What was that for?”

"An apology."

"It's like one of a million kisses you need to give me for yesterday. It hurts. You just left me."

"Understand me," he asked, a frown creeping on his forehead, "I'm risking the reputation I've worked hard to gain for two decades."

Taking his hand, you shook your head, "You think I'm not risking anything? Perhaps my reputation isn't as large as yours, but I still have it, and I risk it. But I do this because I fell for you and I can't change it."

"Fuck," he said simply. "It's not that I want to use you and forget. I don't look for a one-night stand, just to make things clear between us. I'm digging myself right now, right?"

"A little," you chuckled and pressed a brief kiss to his lips. "I also don't look for some kind of glory because I fucked Duke Leto himself. Just so you know."

As needy and desperate as he became, he leaned closer and offered you yet another kiss, this time longer and heated to the point he moaned into your lips.

Giggling against his lips you stroked his cheek. His moans were already your favorite sounds.

"My Duke is a really needy person, I can see. There really must be something missing from your life."

He rested his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Don't be angry about yesterday. I promise to make it up to you whenever you want."

As soon as you two heard Paul and the rest getting back, he kissed your lips once again and pulled away, rubbing his beard to cool himself down.

You turned around, smiling and acting as if nothing had happened. "And how was it?”

Idaho said that Paul got into the dust of spice and he was a little off so Duke decided to get back to the headquarters immediately, to have Paul checked by Yueh.

Leto agreed to give you a brief break after returning, so you were the one that escorted Paul to Yueh.

After explaining everything to the doctor, Paul was left in good hands to rest.

No matter what you were doing, your thoughts drifted to your Duke. It was really important for you to see him, but you weren't sure when the right time would come.

Leto of course informed Jessica about the small adventure their son experienced while in the desert and his concubine headed to doctor Yueh to check whether everything was good. Thankfully, Paul suffered only from light dizziness and headache. Yueh assured that if the young prince gets enough rest, he'll quickly return to his normal state.

Meantime, Leto spoke with Gurney and Idaho about their opinions on the equipment and determined that it is the matter that should be discussed with the court.

You freshened up and put on your usual clothes; the oversized shirt tucked into high-waisted pants. Dressed like this you returned to Leto who was still with Gurney and Idaho.

"My Lord? I just remembered something significant. Can we talk about it aside?"

By the light falling into the chamber through the huge windows, his grayish beard and salt and pepper-coloured hair were lightened as he glanced at you over his shoulder. "Excuse me," he looked at his friends and walked aside with you.

Idaho exchanged surprised glances with Gurney.

While you walked alongside him, you made sure that you did not show your feelings. It wasn't hard to pretend that you two were discussing some important matter. "When can I come to visit you?" You asked him simply.

Since you were standing next to one of the pillars, he immediately placed his hand at your hip where he gradually rubbed you. "When the shields will go down."

Frowning softly you looked at him confused. "Why then? You know that if something happens with shields I will be pulled out to make sure this whole place is safe."

"Gurney wants to lower the shields to inspect the mechanism fully. The entire terrain will be filled with our soldiers. Don't worry, you'll be sent to other duties."

You licked your lips, giving him a smile. "I will be sent to make the head of house Atreides feel good, or I will make sure he's safe?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "Fuck you, little one, keep on acting like that, and I won't be able to play it cool anymore. You have no idea how much I want to taste your lips," he opened his eyes and looked into yours. "Look what the fuck you're doing."

"There is just one question. Upper lips or lower lips," you giggled quietly. "I will better go then. I need to get really ready to see my man tonight."

He leaned forward, pretending he was about to whisper something to you, but instead he used the opportunity to briefly kiss your lips. "That's what I meant." He then went back to Idaho and Gurney.

Waving at both of them, you soon walked away as well, excited for whatever would come.

Leto returned to his friends and behaved as if nothing had happened. When Idaho asked what you wanted, he lied that you asked about the issue with shields and he sent you to guard Paul when the test would be run.

While Gurney appeared to buy it, Idaho did not, but he did not ask any further questions.

You returned to your room and immediately started to dig through your closet to find something appropriate for Leto. You were delighted to find lace underwear you thought you would never wear.

You headed to Leto's second bedroom dressed in special underwear and a long shirt that evening. 

You had to knock three times; it was the special code he set for the two of you. Once he heard the three, tiny knocks, he got up and walked to open the door. This time he wore a black, buttoned shirt, black, fitted trousers, and a black jacket with gold epaulets. He measured you with his eye from the bottom to the top, discovering with amusement and surprise you didn't wear the trousers. "Come in, little one. I thought you wouldn't come, to punish me after last night."

"I should," you agreed while looking around before you walked in, closing the door behind yourself. I should just leave you here waiting for something that is never going to happen, but someone needs to be the kind half when someone is cruel."

"Do you think I am cruel?" he asked, locking the door with the key.

"Am I the one that made you sing and then just left?" You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he took you further in the room, offering you a drink. "How many times shall I apologize, sweetheart?"

"How long?" You hummed, pretending that you were thinking as you accepted the drink. "Well? I think that apologizing until your last day will be enough."

Leto scoffed a tiny bit. "Then I'll apologize to you every day "

"Sounds like a great idea," you nodded, looking at the drink. "Shall I be worried you try to get rid of me?"

"How could I?" He asked, caressing your shoulder.

"I don't know, love. You can do a lot as we saw," you teased before taking a sip.

He took a seat on his bed, downing his drink, observing you.

"Do you like what you see?" You asked, giving him a little spin, proudly displaying yourself to him.

"How do you think? Of course, I do."

You stopped near the bed and after putting the drink away you began slowly undoing the buttons of your shirt. In the beginning, you showed him just your lower part of the body, reviling your panties and naked belly before undoing more buttons to reveal your breasts in a nice black bra.

He watched you, playing with his glass, licking his lips. "Fuck. Look at you. I can't believe you're real."

"I am real and all yours, my Duke," you purred and bowed to him.

He smiled widely, letting his glance slip all over your body. "You're all mine, and no one is entitled to possess you the way I do."

Walking closer to stand between his legs, you let his hands rest on you as your hands wrapped around his neck. "Really? Maybe I should go to Idaho? I bet Duncan would take care of me without any games."

He cocked his brow. "What do you mean? I hope he didn't bother you."

"No, but he is clearly interested in me. Maybe since you are so quick to toss me aside, I should talk to him more?" You teased, playing with his hair.

He closed his eyes as your hands slipped in his hair, messing with the neatly brushed hairdo. "I strongly encourage you to get rid of such an idea."

"And why is that? What if you change your mind again?"

"I am not planning to change my mind and it would be a great shame to get my right-hand man executed for high treason."

You gasped and stared at him with a smirk. "Oh, you wouldn't do that!"

"I'm a fucking Duke, I can do whatever I wish and no one can disobey. Just to make things clear, if you decide one day it'd be pleasant to check what he is hiding in his pants, both of you are in great trouble."

You laughed, pulling at his hair gently. "Oh, look at you, all mighty and bossy. Already putting me in my place."

He snarled a little when you tugged at his hair. "You're fucking dating the Duke, what have you been thinking?"

"So you are sure about me now?"

"Yes. I am. I have never been so sure about anything else in my fucking life."

Finally, you sat on his lap, taking the cup from him to have a sip yourself.

He smiled, rubbing your sides up and down. "Are you having fun, Y/N? Is my lap comfortable?"

Purposely, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the material of your panties rubbing against his thick thighs. "Oh, yes. So comfortable."

He groaned at the action, smirking. "Look at you. So needy."

"Hard not to be eager," you rolled your hips more. "You played with me, and then left me. I was hot and bothered for you."

While licking his lips, he looked at your hips, abdomen, and pussy under your lacy pants. "Did I make you feel good yesterday?"

"You made me feel amazing. Like never before, I never wanted you to stop, my Lord," you whined.

"Look at you, finally addressing me accordingly."

”Maybe I should call you master. I think it would be more suitable." You placed a kiss on his lips and then moved to the bed to get comfortable on fresh sheets. "So soft, all I am missing here is you."

He got up, set his glass aside, and returned to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.

You watched him, nuzzling the pillow gently. Even if those were clearly fresh sheets, you still could smell his scent on them. It was comforting. "My master looks handsome as always."

He slowly slipped his shirt off his muscular shoulders and let it fall to the ground. He then joined you on the bed, instantly kissing your tummy, scratching the soft skin with his thick beard.

You purred loudly, arching your back a little because of the soft tickling you felt with every soft kiss.

He slipped his hands under your back and unclasped your bra, gently slipping its stripes off your shoulders, kissing the soft skin on them, moving to your breasts then. He slowly flicked his tongue around your nipples, occasionally sucking on them and looking up at your face, checking your reactions. Then, he slowly licked a trail down your body, from breasts, through your tummy, to the edge of your panties.

Biting your lips, you watched him, letting out quiet noises from time to time. Already, you were hoping that it wouldn't end like last time. By raising your hips a little, you allowed him to slowly slip your panties off.

To do so, Leto used his teeth, catching the material of your panties with them, slowly tugging them down your legs.

You watched him with your mouth wide open since this was the last thing you expected from Leto. Your cheeks turned completely red.

Once your panties were taken off, he spread your legs and diced between them, eating you viciously out, just like he did the night before.

Letting out a moan you grabbed the sheets and fisted them, moving your legs onto his shoulders, just like the last time.

This time he wasn't wasting time; his tongue flicked over your pussy, he hummed, sending some vibrations through your body, and massaged your breasts by kneading the flesh.

"My Lord, oh fuck. P-please don't stop. I want to cum on your tongue just like last time!" You gasped, moving your hand through his hair.

As your fingers tangled in his hair, he groaned and kept biting you more fiercely, slipping his digits into you.

You tugged at his hair a little harder at the feeling of his fingers. It was just as good as last night, and you gladly sang for him.

His tongue moved faster along your folds, he eventually caught your pinkish pussy lips between his teeth to gently suck them in his mouth, pulling softly.

His actions brought you to your peak, you could hold back just to make him work a little more but it felt too good. You cum, arching your back while whimpering his name.

He smirked broadly when your juices spilled on his tongue. Oh, how delicious you were!

You raised your arms, silently asking him for a kiss.

He kissed your pussy for the last time and towered over you, slowly leaning his head down to offer you a gentle kiss.

Heatedly, you kissed him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You used the moment of distraction provided by the kiss and your strength to flip both of you. Now you were on top, with a playful smile you pulled away, stroking his cheek. "My Lord."

While he blinked in surprise, he grasped your hips and looked up at you. "Comfy?" He asked, making himself comfortable on the bed. "Look at you."

You sat up a bit, resting your hand on his chest while rolling your hips. "Oh, really comfy. I wish this was what happened yesterday."

His hands stroked the curves of your waist as he tried to memorize your body. "Good."

As you leaned down to kiss his lips and then moved to his cheek and neck, you whispered, "I was so angry yesterday." Your kisses continued and moved down his chest and stomach until you reached his abdomen.

He rubbed your shoulders and gasped quietly as you were moving down his body. "Did you finish off on your own?"

"No," you placed kiss on his abdomen. "I spent the night crying, hoping you would return. Questioning if I was even worth your time."

"Of course you are," he said, reaching out and stroking your cheek. "Of course you are, Y/N."

You cupped his hand. "I love you. Not as a Duke... I don't care about the title. I love you for who you are, Leto."

He propped himself on his elbow, still stroking your cheek, his careful eagle-eyes never left yours. "Why? I'm nothing special. If not for my title, I would be nothing but an ordinary soldier."

"You are good and kind," you moved a little and sat up face to face with him. "You are smart, loving, and caring. Not to mention being handsome."

No mention of being unfaithful," he said, more to himself, scoffing. "I'm not a good man, Y/N. I killed a lot of people."

"No one is flawless, but I still love you. I love everything you do, I love your voice, I love your body, I love how you make me feel," you counted.

In the dim light filling the room, you could see little sparkles in his eyes.

"I love my Leto," you added and cupped his cheek to place a sweet kiss on his lips.

He kissed you back, trying to hold you as close as possible.

Pulling away, you stroked his cheek. "I am yours and only yours, Leto. Both in bed and on duty."

"I don't like categorizing," Leto said, playing with a strand of your hair. "I don't want to make you a thing I can possess whenever I want. I don't want you that way."

You gently stroked his shoulder and soon your hand moved to his nape. "What do you mean by that? There isn't much you can do now and I'm fine with that as long as my Leto is happy."

Stroking your hips where his hands were placed, he smiled gently. "I don't want you that way. I don't want to treat you like a whore. I just need you in my life. As my partner."

Watching him you frowned a tad and chuckled. "I... Isn't this a little impossible? This place is closed for me, besides it would look bad."

"Closed for you?"

"I know she is a concubine, but she gave you a son. I am nothing, just a soldier who confessed her love for you," you shrugged softly.

"Do you know why I haven't married?"

You simply shook your head.

"I should wed Paul's mother, make her my Duchess. Yet, my unwedded state gives some Houses hope they may yet ally with me through their marriageable daughters. It's all political, my dear Y/N. But now I start considering another thing."

"What thing, my Lord?"

He brushed your cheek with his calloused thumb. "Maybe it's just a whim but I certainly want you as my concubine, that's for sure. Maybe even something more."

"I wish to be your concubine. It doesn't matter how. I just want to be yours." 

You wished for this. You truly wanted this. You didn't care if you would be his concubine or the Duchess, perhaps. All you wanted was to be his, to be close to him without the need of hiding anything from anyone.

"Of course it's possible. I'll think about how to play it, but I promise you'll become one of the most powerful people on Arrakis. I want you. I have no idea how it happened but you own me and all of me."

It doesn't matter if I am powerful or not, all I care about is being close to you. You are also going to own me and everything I do," you whispered.

He pulled you closer to him, so his forehead rested against yours. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why were you always so cautious about showing your emotions near me? If I had known earlier, we might have been married by now, maybe sharing a home even."

You chuckled softly, blushing at the thought of not only marrying him but also having a child.

"That's how I was raised and how I was trained. You were up, when I was down, and all my responsibilities were to protect you and those close to you. There was no other relationship except friendship, and even friendship had its limitations." Taking a deep breath, you said, "It should be obvious to you how my father carried himself even if he was your friend."

Leto nodded silently. "Yes. I always believed I love Jessica. And I do, you know? But I have never felt anything so intense with you, something more intoxicating than love itself."

"I loved before but it was nothing like with you. I feel like I can't live without you," you whispered. "You think that Jessica and Paul will hate us both for this? I don't want to ruin anything."

"I don't think my son will hate you, it'll most likely be aimed at me. Jessica, on the other hand, most certainly is not going to accept it."

Maybe this is all a bad idea..." You worriedly said.

"Stop it right now," he ordered, cupping your cheeks in his hands again. "Stop it. I'll do whatever it takes for you to stay unaffected."

You grabbed his hands and nodded. "I trust you."

"Don't worry. I'll never let anyone hurt you in any way, Y/N."

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's my duty to protect you."

He smiled at you brightly. "It's your duty to love me unconditionally."

"Then I hope I am fulfilling it properly, my Lord," you kissed him.

He kissed you back, letting his tongue slip past your lips, dancing with yours in a heated dance.

You moaned against his lips and pulled away with a smile. 

"How about we finally get to the fun stuff? Unless my Duke waits till his wedding night."

He chuckled, giving you a look. "Look at you. So tempting and beautiful, and you're expecting me to fucking wait to get that pussy marked? It's not going to happen."

"You certainly are taking your sweet time, my Lord," you teased, rolling your hips against him with a cocky smile.

A deep frown appeared on his face as you ground against his crotch.

Looking him right in the eye, you moved down until you were comfortable between his legs. 

You undo his belt and then the pants. Your eyes never left his.

He could feel a blush hitting his cheeks and he was glad at that point that he wore a thick beard that partially hid it.

"May I, my Lord?" You asked quietly.

Leto reached out his hand, placing it on your cheek, nodding.

You turned your head to kiss his hand before your attention moved back to his pants. Finally pulling them down, you gasped and then smiled right at him, seeing he didn't wear any kind of underwear. "Look at you, love."

A shy smirk appeared on his lips. "It's more comfortable this way in such a hot climate."

"Oh, I bet," you hummed and wrapped your soft palm around his member, giving him a few gentle strokes.

Leto was observing you, his face relaxed and soon he rolled his head back, resting it on his pillow.

You gave his cock a long lick from the base to the tip before your warm lips wrapped around the shaft.

He grunted in a deep tone that roared within his chest. "Just like that."

You began to take more and more of him, relaxing your throat to do so. You hummed around him to tease him with some vibrations.

Soon, he was grunting and groaning, bucking his hips up slowly, to slip his shaft more into your mouth. Leto's hands slipped into your hair, and he slowly, gradually fucked your mouth. "Look at you, little one. Sucking on my cock so well."

The only thing you did was hum, focusing on taking his cock.

He relaxed in your arms.

Suddenly, the couple could hear a knocking on the door. "Father, Duncan, and I can't find Y/N, and you told them she was about to guard me. The shield will be down in a moment and she'd be needed."

Leto snapped his eyes open, looked down at you with his cock in your mouth, and chuckled quietly, pressing his hand to his lips to muffle it. After clearing his throat, he replied loud enough for Paul to hear, "She's feeling sick, let her rest, probably too much spice got into her system. She's off duty and please, pass this information to Idaho."

Biting your lip, you lay your head on his stomach. Oh, you wanted to laugh so much because of the situation. It was hilarious and embarrassing at the same time.

He reached his hand to stroke your cheek. His eyebrows relaxed as he was grinning like an adolescent.

"Of course, sir," Paul replied, but added, "Father, may I come in? There's one thing I'd like to speak with you about."

Leto got visibly frustrated and rolled his eyes. "Not now, Paul. I have a lot of work to be done here," his thumb brushed your lips. "I'm afraid it'll take me an entire night to get things done. You know how time-consuming planning is, especially if you want to plan everything well enough for it to fit," Leto's eyes never left yours.

You looked right at him and used the opportunity to wrap your lips around his thumb. You began to suck it gently with a smile just to tease him.

He rolled his eyes back and with a gasp, he couldn't stop, he rolled his head back down again. 

"Father... Are you okay? Shall I call mother?"

Leto put his palm to his lips to muffle his tone for a few seconds before he cooled down enough to reply. "It's not necessary, Paul, I'm just tired a little. Now, get back to your room. I want you to stay there when the shields will be down."

Laughing voicelessly, you just started kissing his stomach. The two of you could be in some serious trouble

He licked his lips, watching you.

"Of course, sir," Paul replied again. "Good night."

"Good night, Paul," Leto replied and let out a grunt when he heard his son's footsteps vanishing in the corridor. "What the fuck!"

Giggling, you looked at him. "We'll never get to the better stuff," you joked, getting on top of him and kissing him. ”Well played, my Lord."

He took his cock in his hand and jerked it a few times, giving you a kiss back. "We are fucking lucky, aren't we?" He joked lightly. "Oh, if they fucking knew," he said, lining himself with your entrance, making sure to rub his tip against your already dripping folds.

You moved your hips back against him. "We found ourselves." Finally, you let him sink into you, causing you to moan softly. He was big, much bigger than you expected but you already loved it.

He pressed on your hips a little to make you sink into his cock, impaling you where you belonged. "Fuck," he cursed, feeling how tight, hot and wet you felt around him. "Fuck."

Smiling, you moved your hips in place, letting him feel all of you nicely. "So big. Fuck, filling me so nicely. I have never felt so full."

"How many men did you sleep with before?" He asked casually, gently bucking his hips into you.

"Not many. Nothing special," you answered honestly, moving slowly up and down. ”How about you? You have a second bedroom. Were there more affairs in the past?"

"Countless," he stated openly, cupping your breasts.

The fake sadness soon gave way to a moan as you said, "Fuck... Shall I be jealous that I'm not the only one?"

"No one of them can be counted as special. No one of them was you."

Taking his hand and placing it on your clit, you smiled proudly. Once he started to rub it, you moaned and started to move a little faster. "Fuck. So good."

He kept on rubbing your clitoris, taking his hand away for a moment to lick his lips to add some moisture to your vulnerable point. Once his palm returned, he teased the little bundle of nerves worth his thumb. "You like that, baby?"

You nodded, whining a little. "Oh, I love it, my love. Fuck, you make me feel so good."

Leto easily caught your hips and laid you down on the bed, towering over you seconds later. He took his cock, rubbed its tip along your folds again, and pushed in you with ease, attacking your exposed neck with kissing and sucking as he set a brutal, rapid pace.

You shouted his name as you wrapped arms tightly around his neck, as your legs moved around his waist. The pace he set made you whimper as your head rolled back on the pillow; you felt the entire bed moving along his strong thrusts.

His strong hand was placed on the back of your thigh as the other one wrapped lightly around your neck, he crushed his lips against yours. "You like it when I fuck you, huh?" He grunted into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe.

"Yes... My Lord! I love it! I love it when you fuck me!" You nodded, grasping at him as you could.

He kissed you equally roughly, picking both of your legs up and resting them against his shoulders. His pace slowed but his thrusts became more profound. The sound of skin hitting skin and Leto's deep grunts filled the room.

All the sounds he made and how well he fucked you made you reach your peak, but you held back as much as you could. "My Lord... Can I cum around your cock?"

"Hold a little more, I want to cum with you," he almost pleaded, speeding up again. He removed your legs from his shoulders and made sure you wrapped them tightly around his hips. His thrusts were strong enough to cause the bed to rock back and forth along them. "Fuck," he whispered as his cock throbbed within you. "Cum for me, babygirl."

You did as he said and let go, cumming around him with a scream of his name.

Leto shot thick ropes of cum into your pussy with a loud grunt that turned into a moan.

Holding him tightly, you whimpered his name. "Leto! Fuck, oh fuck!"

He nuzzled the crook of your neck, resting on top of you for a moment, kissing your face.

Grabbing his cheeks, you pulled him into a sweet, gentle kiss.

His weight was supported by one hand as he kissed back. Leto watched as your mixed cums dropped out of your cunt when he pulled his cock out. Leto smirked proudly, rolling to the side.

You sighed when he pulled out, so you turned on your side as well to watch him. "It sounds exciting, now that I am yours and only yours, forever and ever." He reached his hand out and put it on your chest, right on the heart. "Here I am. And here I remain."

[iamafanofcartoons]

We need to address how media, and media critics, portray female characters poorly. What can be done about it? What are examples of media works that portray complex female characters well? What are writing tips for people trying to write complex female characters? Why do media critics hate on women?

Its just something I noticed.

Male writers drop the ball with female characters all the time. They'll give the men all the good lines but women get weak roles and no sense of humor. When we complain they then make a female character who has too many boyfriends and too much ego and too much power but no resourcefulness, or she's super powerful but still needs a man to save her, and of course they make her complain about everything and fight with everyone who helps her. I could go on and on.

A lot of people are incapable of viewing female characters as anything other than an innocent saint or a portrait of pure evil. Arguably the best characters are morally ambiguous ones who live in the gray area between good and evil, but women are much less often afforded that distinction than their male counterparts.

I'm been having a huge problem connecting to media. The only women around are very young or very old and their main defining feature is usually motherhood. If a woman my age exists who isn't a mom she's usually either obsessed with men or desperate to have a baby (or will be once the right dude comes along).

Fanfiction has great female characters , but you keep running into people who will only write a complex woman who's tied to a male main character.

Michael Burnham from Star Trek: Discovery . POC Female Protagonist. You probably have heard or seen a lot of hatred against.

Korra from The Legend Of Korra. Sequel Series to ATLA. POC Female Protagonist. Despite losing fights and suffering extreme trauma and making mistakes, critics passionately bash the show, calling her a Mary-Sue, and accusing the show of being Protagonist-Centered Morality.

A lot of the time if there is a military high ranking female character or just female leader that is masculine or butch she will be the villain to be defeated by the traditionally feminine or at least more feminine heroine/love interest of the hero. I hate this because it basically implies that a woman can only be good if she’s conventionally attractive or a love interest. It’s saying being butch is bad/evil.

Even movies trying to be feminist, like “Contact” which I had to watch for homework? With Jodie Foster from the 1990s told the brilliant, focused woman scientist to not be so “confrontational” (as two male characters stole credit for her work right after they stole her funding) and to be happy with “small moves.” They continued to pat her on the head and tell her to be quiet through the whole movie. The one time she even spoke to another woman was to ask where she could find a really pretty dress. This was supposed to show growth in her character arc.

If I recall correctly, one of the playable characters in the next release of the grand theft auto series is gonna be a women. People online were flipping out over this saying they are being too "woke", among other things. Its funny to me because there has been 5 gta games with only male protagonists, and now there's 1 female in it and suddenly its a problem. Its like these people think there are only 2 genders in games, male and woke.

Heck, people love basic trope laden protagonists..... until they are women.

People love unreasonably over powered characters that are loved or feared in equal measure by the entire cast..... until its a woman.

Then all of a sudden, she's a Mary-Sue and the show/game/book is "Protagonist-Centered Morality"

Some characters who are torn apart for their initial naïveté like Sansa Stark or Usagi Tsukino (Sailor Moon) are immediately written off as stupid girl characters. Never mind that one becomes a political powerhouse and the other routinely saves the world. People just write their characters off as too “girly” or “annoying” before they even have the chance to redeem themselves in their stories.

Feels like at it's core, people don't like women trying to build self confidence and play out power fantasies. The only difference with the original Mary Sue was that she was imagining being liked by everyone, which was every woman's dream back then and to a certain extent, now. The power was being well liked, and that made her annoyingly boring because there was no struggle for her. Men think struggle is needed, even in fantasies and dreams, but it isn't.

The term Mary-Sue gained a new popularity by shaming female characters (such as Rey, Galadriel, Captain Marvel,…). I am not saying the term is not used towards male characters as well, but it is more rare, and it is rarely as violent as when it is used to characterize a female character.

More importantly it is used against female characters unevenly compared to male characters, its accepted as a genre trope for a male character to be extremely capable or to acrue experience and ability rapidly throughout the narrative. But when it's a woman suddenly "realism" must apply, a real person doesn't simply gain strength and talent through endless perfectly leveled hardship. In simpler terms, Batman can launch a thug across the room with a single punch and it's awesome, Black Widow, however, is breaking the laws of physics when she does her famous around the neck takedown.

Neither are realistic, arguably any grown man launching another grown man bodily through the air with a casual punch is less realistic than a woman pulling off a skilled takedown, but the unequal application of standards says all that needs to be said about the critic.

Writing a "mary sue" to be male often results in a praised character that people don't really worry about. Like Goku or Kirito. People are fine with it. Enjoy it. And there's massive amounts of rather popular fanfiction taking random male characters in series and sue-ifying them, making them the protagonist over the actual main characters, and slapping in poorly developed romance arcs. It's "mary sue" 101, but hardly anyone talks about them in that light.

Meanwhile a woman shows a level of competence similar to another character in the same series (e.g. Rey to Luke or Anakin) and the accusations are everywhere.

Calling these characters one-dimensional is one of the dog-whistles of the modern [whatever]-gate colony creature.

They know that they'll get savaged if they come out and say they're mad because this character is a woman, so they couch everything in these subjective terms. She's one-dimensional. She's flat. She's badly written. She's a mary sue. I just couldn't relate to her.

You can argue with them, you can point out that, say, in Star Wars, that Rey's ability to handle weapons intentionally established in the early scenes of TFA, that we see the setup for the skills she's going to display later in the movie/series, and that her first win is against a badly wounded Sith apprentice. By contrast, Luke successfully fights his way through a huge space station against professional soldiers, then hops into a starfighter he's never flown before, outflies a bunch of experienced pilots, and pulls off a physically impossible shot to save the day.

But sure. Rey is the one who strains credulity.

You can point all that out, but none of it matters. They're not arguing in good faith. They're just mad that there's a girl, and know better than to say that out loud.

He pulls off the shot because he has a throwaway line about murdering animals the size of a camel for fun in his civilian craft that just so happens to have controls similar to the military superiority fighter because they were manufactured by the same company. Because that doesn't strain credibility. Also guess which parts were filled in later by novel writers who were like, "holy **** that makes no sense at all"

Sailor Moon and Sansa Stark are two female characters that start out as whiney cry-baby girlie girls who evolve into political powerhouses and heroes in their own right. But most people write their characters off immediately, because they’re disgusted by their girlish-ness.

While our media gives male characters a chance to grow, female characters are generally written off unless they either show masculine traits, or are used for fan service. It’s why women in movies and TV are usually a kickass tomboy or a girlfriend character.

So anyway, I guess my point is that there are amazing kickass women characters who are well-written and evolve and grow, but their growth tends to be written off as frivolous and not as cool as their dude counterparts.

Imagine an anime where the woman is the main character and she's strong, smart, and not sexualized ?

How about Guardian of the Spirit (seirei no moribito in Japanese)? The MC is a mercenary woman who fights with a spear. She's a complex character, maybe somewhat emotionally stunted because of growing up on the road. She meets a wonderful, compassionate male healer and I love how they break stereotypical gender roles. There's also a complete badass old lady with magical powers and a temper. One of my favourite characters in any genre.

But I'd like to add SuleMio to the list.

Some people did not like that Gundam had its first female protagonist last year, or that she's engaged to another girl, or that they have a romantic moment where Miorine makes Suletta "promise to be with me forever".

It's my first Gundam show and I was nowhere near the fandom, but even I heard the howls of rage from the otakus over that show while it was airing.

“ I highly recommend reading Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson. Strong female main character with a supportive cast of male characters. His Skyward series is also good for this.  Sanderson is great but there are some female fantasy writers that do this even better IMO. NK Jemisin has tons of great female characters. Tamsyn Muir’s Locked Tomb series has a majority female cast and I’d say 4 or 5 of them are in the top ten most interesting and complex female characters I’ve read. “

You heard of The Bechdel test: Two women have to talk about something other than a man. There is no time window. It came up in a 1985 comic Dykes To Watch Out For and although it is not a great indicator of more feminist content, it's a wonder much media fails to pass that test.

Have you seen

Arcane? That is a wild crazy masterpiece with awesomely complex awesome characters. It's animated, yeah, so what? But I mean, to say "it's animated" is a heavy  understatement. Have you seen Jinx? Have you seen her portrayal of psychosis and godknows what else was happening in her head? No one in history came even close to that.

Queen's Gambit? Anya Taylor-Joy brought Beth Harmon flawlessly through immense complexity of the character

Mare of Easttown - Kate Winslet there is, I kid you not, the best acting I have ever seen. Her character is going through complex situations and emotions and learning to deal with her human side. Bryan Cranston raised the bar ridiculously high with Walter White, but Kate Winslet pushed it further up, set explosives on it, and walked away like a badass without looking at the explosion. No one is topping that anytime soon.

I'm sure there are more examples. But what I love about these, and a big part of what makes them perfect is that they are their own characters and aren't defined by men around them. Their greatn

I wish female characters were given better in terms of development and characterization. Honestly, I feel like a lot of people hate female characters simply because most male dominated media does such a poor job of writing women, and those characters aren't given the same excuses as poorly written male characters.

Anyway, yeah, sorry for my rant. Having grown up on Anime, Harry Potter, Star Wars, you name it?

I later in life realized what was missing, what is needed, and really needed to hear other people's input on this stuff.

I never understood the need for every main character to be only a cishet white guy. I had already come up with several characters of my own, all of them LGBTQIA+, and half of them women, and several also POC. But my writing and art skills are poor so I can't visualize them properly...

We need more female authors, and we need to promote the ones that are out there more!

(there are plenty of really, really good female authors, in all genres, but often they get less attention, because, well, misogyny)

Edit: If you want an example of how the double-standard towards women and LGBT is applied? Go watch RWBY or Legend of Korra. Both involve a deconstruction of tropes. Both involve women standing up against an authority that demands respect based on being authority, not based on respect. Both shut down the white male savior trope so hard, that men and women who love the patriarchy despise both shows.

But of course, anything that Team RWBY or Korra does is immediately held to a double standard and ripped into for anything that they do NOT because they’re flawed or because of writing decisions. Its because they’re LGBT women that they’re held under a microscope. Or have you noticed that every fixit fanfic for both series involves defending the Patriarchy while supporting toxic masculinity and trying to revive the White Male Savior trope that both shows have tried so hard to bury six feet under?