#and it just feels so much better getting attention from someone i’m infatuated with

[viderose]

post some itty titty

i have a problem. i like attention, love it even. and i sometimes think i should post some cute pics again, yk, because obviously i’d get a kick if people paid attention to and liked them. however, the problem you see, is that when i like someone i never want to post those pics. i just want to send them to the person i like :/ because i don’t want anyones attention bar theirs. so i’m sorry anon, but the only person seeing more itty titty pics from me atm is the guy i’m obsessed with 💔

[emmylksblog]

OBSESSED // H.FORT

request: can you write about hector being a tease and like obsessed with the reader but like in a romantic way

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: shower sex, never explicit smut only highlighted

words: +2000

a/n: am i getting better at writing smut or i’m just delusional? 🤨

Hector Fort, the rising star of FC Barcelona, was an affectionate and devoted boyfriend who was completely smitten with you. He couldn't help but be obsessed with everything about you, from the way you carried yourself to the way you spoke.

He was always eager to please you and ensure your happiness, whether it was by massaging your feet, tending to your hair, or letting you pamper him with your skincare expertise. Hector was obedient and compliant when you needed him to be and always tried to lift your spirits when you were feeling down.

He was infatuated by you, and his devotion knew no bounds. Whether it was after a tough training session or a hard match, he would make sure to give you all the attention you deserved. Hector could never get enough of you, and it was clear that he thought the world of you. He loved being able to be vulnerable and let you take care of him, and he enjoyed spending every spare moment he could with you, just appreciating your presence and company.

He trusted you implicitly and would never dream of letting anyone else touch his hair, except for you. You were the only person he'd let shape and style his locks, knowing that you'd only ever do what was best for him. In return, he would gladly do your hair or any other thing you asked, just to see the smile on your face and make you happy.

The sound of laughter and banter filled the room as Hector and his friends were engaged in a competitive game of FIFA. You weren't home yet, as you were still out shopping, but when you finally returned, the sight of his friends didn't deter Hector from his usual affectionate greeting.

He quickly abandoned the game to give you a warm kiss on the lips and eagerly helped you unpack the food, his focus being solely on you. He barely even acknowledged his friends as he was so happy to see you.

Hector's teammates, Marc, Pau and Lamine, chuckled and teased Hector about how whipped he was for you, but he didn't seem to care. He was completely smitten and always eager to show his affection for you, no matter who was around.

As he finished unpacking the groceries, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head in your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you another, tighter, hug.

As you thanked Hector for helping you unpack the groceries, you couldn't resist teasing him about how much he had missed you. He grinned sheepishly and ruffled his hair as you stroked it.

Marc, Pau and Lamine, who were still in the living room playing the game, couldn't help but chime in.

"Parece que alguien no pudo aguantar una hora sin su preciada novia eh Hector" says Marc. (It looks like someone couldn't last an hour without his precious girlfriend, huh Hector)

"More like a minute." Pau added.

"You've got it bad, bro." said Lamine while taking a snack.

Hector just shrugged and rolled his eyes at his friends, unfazed by their teasing. He was used to their banter and knew they were just jealous of the bond he had with you. He leaned into your touch as you toyed with his hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Can you blame me? Casi muero de aburrimiento con ellos" (I almost died of boredom with them)

You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head at his dramatic response.

"Oh, poor baby. You couldn't survive an hour without me?"

Hector feigned a pout and nodded sheepishly, leaning into you more.

The other three snickered from across the room, clearly enjoying the banter.

"Oh, shut up, Hector. We're not that bad." says Marc quickly being supported by Pau and Lamine.

Hector playfully scowled and stuck out his tongue at his friends before turning back to you, the pout lingering.

"See how they treat me?" he mock-complained, putting on a dramatic act.

You chuckled and continued to stroke his hair, finding his antics endearing.

"You really missed me that much handsome?" you asked, pretending not to believe him.

Hector smiled sheepishly and nodded, his eyes glued to yours.

Marc sauntered over to where you and Hector were standing in the kitchen, his usually cocky demeanor in place. He greeted you with a warm hug and a smirk.

"Hey, you. Good to see you."

Marc then turned to Hector, who was looking a bit annoyed at his approach, and couldn't resist the urge to tease him again.

Marc chuckled and ruffled Hector's hair playfully.

"Don't worry, bro. I'm not trying to steal your girl away."

Hector swatted at his hand and tried to fix his messy hair as Marc continued to tease him.

"You wouldn't have a chance anyway," he said, trying to keep his cool.

Marc feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart.

"Oh, wow. Eso ha dolido." (that hurt)

Growing tired of the banter between Marc and Hector, you decided it was time to take a moment for yourself. You gave Hector a quick kiss before excusing yourself to the upstairs bathroom to take a shower.

As you left, you could hear the sound of the four boys arguing loudly in the kitchen, their voices and laughter following you as you ascended the stairs.

Hector turned to his friends, who were all still lingering in the kitchen, and shot them a look.

"Come on, guys, it's getting late. You all have girlfriends to get back to, too."

Marc made a pouty face, but Pau and Lamine both nodded in agreement, reluctantly taking the hint.

Marc rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and giving Hector a playful scowl. "Ya me has cambiado por la novia" (so you're already replacing me with your girlfriend, huh?)

"Eres un idiota, además ella es mucho más guapa que tú." Hector responded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. (you're such an idiot, besides she is prettier than you)

Marc pretended to be offended, letting out an exaggerated huff and Hector just chuckled, giving Marc a friendly slap on the back as a farewell.

"See you around," Lamine said with a smirk, giving Hector a friendly pat on the shoulder as he walked past.

Pau chuckled and added, "Don't miss us too much."

Hector rolled his eyes but smiled, secretly glad for the opportunity to have you all to himself.

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here."

Hector wasted no time in following you upstairs, feeling excited at the idea of joining you in the shower. He made his way to the bathroom, hoping you hadn't finished yet and he could surprise you.

He softly opened the door to the bathroom, listening for the sound of the shower running before slowly entering.

As Hector quietly entered the bathroom, he heard you call out his name. He smiled and leaned against the doorframe, admiring your beautiful figure through the steamed up glass of the shower.

"Can I join you?" he asked, his voice already a bit huskier.

At your approval Hector quickly disrobed, his eyes never leaving your body as he stepped into the shower behind you. The warm water cascaded over both of your bodies, the steam adding an intimate touch to the atmosphere.

He gently wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his touch almost reverent as he began to run his hands over your body.

"Let me take care of you, mi amor."

Leaning in, he began to gently knead and massage your shoulders, his strong hands working away the knots and tension that had built up throughout the day. The hot water and the skillful movements of his fingers soon had you relaxed and moaning in pleasure.

Hector continued his ministrations, his focus entirely on you. He left a trail of kisses down your neck and across your shoulder blades, his lips soft and reverent against your skin.

His hands moved down your back, tracing small circles and lines with his fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.

"You work too hard," he murmured in your ear, his voice a low rumble. "You deserve to be pampered."

He gently turned you around so that your back was pressed against the tiled wall, and he stared into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of adoration and desire.

Hector lifted your chin with a single finger, his other hand still resting on your hip. His touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze was unwavering.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as the water continued to cascade over your bodies.

You respond eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you moan into the kiss. Your bodies press closer together, the heat of the water and the heat of desire combining to make you both feel as though you're on fire.

You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and chest, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath the water-slicked skin.

The kiss deepens, become more intense, and Hector presses you even tighter against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. You can feel the evidence of his desire, hot and hard against your hip, and it only adds to the growing hunger within you.

"I need you, mi amor," Hector murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. "I want to make you feel good."

He gently nudges your legs apart, his hand trailing down your thigh as he positions himself closer to you. The tension and desire between you is almost palpable, and the steam from the shower only seems to amplify it.

You gasp as he positions himself between your legs, your chest heaving with anticipation. You feel his hands gently grip your hips, and you let your head fall back against the wall, surrendering yourself completely to him.

"Please," you breathe, your voice a near whisper. "Do whatever you want to me."

Hector grins at your request, the possessive and dominant side of him coming out to play.

"As you wish," he says, his voice low and firm.

He leans in and captures your lips in another intense kiss, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he begins to move against you.

You gasp into the kiss as his hips buck against yours, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You lift one leg, wrapping it around his waist, your body seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Si" you whisper against his lips. "Hazme tuya." (make me yours)

Hector's eyes darkened at your words, and he let out a guttural moan against your lips, his control slipping. He deepened the kiss even further, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance.

His hips rocked against you, the movement becoming more desperate as he sought to claim you completely.

Hector's hands grip your thighs, helping to support your weight as you wrap your legs fully around his waist. He backs you up into the wall even further, pinning you against it as he continues to grind into you.

He moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him, his eyes dark with desire. "Te amo" he gasps against your neck.

"Y yo a ti Hector" you gasp back, the words spilling from your lips as the ecstasy builds between you.

Your hips move in rhythm with his, the friction and pressure creating a delicious coil of tension deep within you. You cling to him, your nails digging into his flesh as you seek release.

Hector's breathing is ragged and uneven, his body straining with the effort to hold back. But your words and the feeling of you clinging to him is too much to resist.

He buries his face in your neck, his lips and teeth nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving marks that will surely be there the next day.

Hector grunts as you start to ride him harder, the movement driving him wild with desire. His hands grip your hips even tighter, helping to guide your movements.

"Mierda," (shit) he whispers, his voice a strained growl. "You're gonna be the end of me."

You gasp and moan, your hips moving in a desperate, erratic rhythm as you chase your release. Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving red marks as your body grows taut with pleasure.

You can feel his own need growing, burning hotter and hotter as he works to bring you over the edge.

And just as you feel yourself reach the peak of ecstasy, you feel a low, guttural moan against your skin as Hector follows you over the edge, his body shuddering as he comes undone.

You both cling to each other, the hot water still cascading over your panting, trembling bodies.

For a few moments, you simply stand there, regaining your breath and steadying your racing hearts. Hector holds you tight, his arms enveloping you as he presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

"Mi amor," he murmurs, his voice still thick with pleasure. "Eres increíble." (you're incredible)

You smile at his words, feeling a mix of contentment and satisfaction wash over you. You turn your head to face him, your eyes meeting his.

"You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your voice still a little breathless.

Hector grins and pecks your nose before replying, "I hope that wasn't too tiring for you. We might have to do it again, just to be sure."

You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, rolling your eyes at his unabashed flirting. But secretly, you're actually considering his suggestion. The way he was able to bring you to such heights of pleasure was addicting.

Hector chuckles and pulls you even closer, his hands roaming up and down your back in a soothing gesture.

"Come on, let's finish cleaning up and shower so we can get to bed."

He grins and winks at you, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You laugh at his wink and nod, agreeing that it's time to finish up in the shower and get some rest. You spend the next few minutes cleaning each other up, the moment now filled with comfortable silence and gentle touches.

Once you're all cleaned up, you both step out of the shower. Hector grabs a towel and gently starts drying you off, taking care to be extra thorough.

"You know," he says as he runs the towel over your shoulders and back. "I may have to start taking more cold showers after being with you."

You laugh and teasingly ask "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Hector grins and looks you up and down, his eyes heating as he takes in your form wrapped in a towel.

"I think it's pretty obvious," he purrs, leaning in to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m obsessed with you.”

You hum in response, enjoying the feel of his lips on your skin. You grab the other towel and start drying him off, taking your time to be thorough as well.

"I think I'm just as obsessed with you," you admit, your eyes raking over his muscled torso.

Hector smirks, clearly pleased with your words. He grabs the towel and finishes drying himself off, before pulling you into his arms.

He wraps the towel around both of you, encasing you both in a warm and cozy cocoon. He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

"Let's get a move on before I get tempted to have you again," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You chuckle and nod, knowing that if you stay wrapped up like this any longer, you'd both end up getting distracted again.

"Alright, lead the way," you say, stepping out of the bathroom with him wrapped around you, the towel still around both of your bodies.

Hector leads you into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back and guiding you to the bed. Once you're both settled under the covers, he pulls you close, cuddling you against his chest.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

You smile and wrap your arms around him, feeling content and warm in his embrace. "I love you too," you reply, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

[bandgie]

Dreaming of Painter on Floor Two | EP. 2

MASTERLIST | KINK: ORAL

🗝 It's exactly like the Pink Palace, only a thousand times better. It helps that the beautiful man upstairs is infatuated by you. Maybe the buttons for eyes isn't too bad.

3.7k words

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, oral (f!rec), fingering, hyunjin has button for eyes (duh), face riding (brief)

The tunnel is felt material. It’s all smooth and soft as you crawl your way to the Otherside.

Whatever the Otherside may be.

You can’t see much other than the opened crawlspace straight ahead. It looks identical to the one you came from, but the feel is…different.

It’s welcoming. Though you’re roughly halfway across, there’s a warmth pouring from the other door that beckons you closer. It’s like a ray of light on a cold autumn day, and you’re a cat wanting nothing more than to bask in it.

So you do. You smile when you reach the Otherside, putting a hand forward to push the door fully open and to see your living room.

Wait? What? Did you crawl the wrong way?

The smile on your lips turns into a confused frown, but you squeeze through the opening anyway. It’s not until you stand and finally look around that you notice it’s not quite the same. The boxes are gone, and rather than the dirty couches you begged Chan not to bring in the middle of the room, the ones here are clean.

The only thing that vastly differs is the painting on the wall. The boy in blue is not crying over his ice cream. Instead, the scoop sits perfectly on his cone and he smiles hungrily at his dessert. 

Okaaaay?

You suppose it does make sense to dream about the apartment. The rumors you’ve heard and the anxiety you felt moving, maybe this is your brain's way of coping.

But, damn, how disappointing. Maybe you weren’t necessarily expecting a terrible nightmare, but at least something…fun.

Whatever. Hopefully, Chan and Changbin are dreaming of something more exciting. You consider going back into the tunnel before the kitchen light flickers on. Even the bulb doesn’t have that buzzing sound it normally would. It’s a much warmer tone that says, I’m in here!

Who though? Did your friends decide to make a cameo in your dream? Each step closer is like a rollercoaster. It fills you with anxiousness, excitement, and everything in between.

All that wonder fizzles into confusion again when the kitchen is utterly empty. There’s a hint of bacon and eggs as if someone was cooking only seconds ago. It’s the note on the table, however, that catches your attention the most:

I’M WAITING FOR YOU UPSTAIRS :) SEE YOU SOON <3

This has Changbin written all over it. You smile at the thought of him appearing in your dream despite sleeping beside him. Of course, you’re the one conjuring him here, but when you wake and tell him, Changbin would quickly say, ‘Of course, I was there! I just can’t get enough of you.’

You take the note and skip to the front door, wondering what your dream-Changbin has in store tonight. Does he feel bad about making you choke on his cock and wants to make up for it? He did say he wanted to use his tongue. Maybe you went to sleep thinking about it so much you decided to dream about it.

All the different ways he can and has swirled his tongue on your cunt come to mind, but opening the door silences them all.

It’s…

“Oh my god.”

Beautiful.

The grass is green. The sky is blue. The flowers are alive. It’s nothing compared to your actual front yard. Even the stars gleam with excitement, as if happy you’re here. The air isn’t chilly when you step out like it normally would be. The breeze in the night is so gentle on your skin, like a hug from someone who’s missed you dearly.

Changbin…he can wait. Yeah, maybe your legs are still a little sticky being that you got excited and aren’t wearing underwear, but none of that matters. The scene in front of you is mesmerizing and it takes a strong gust of wind to keep you from walking down the porch.

Leaves pick and blow in front, causing you to see how they trail to the stairs and up. 

Ah, he’s really trying to get your attention. 

You giggle and clutch the note a little tighter. “I know. I know. I’m coming.”

-

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Something clutters on the other side of the door. You grin at the thought of Changbin panicking, trying to clean the room before letting you in.

“Hellooo!” you press your ear to the door. “I’m waiting out here!”

“I-I know! I’ll be there in a sec!”

The way you jolt is almost like you’ve been electrocuted. That’s not Changbin’s voice. That’s not even Chan’s voice. It’s softer than theirs’, almost nervous. You don’t have much time to try and figure out who it belongs to before the door opens.

He’s tall, his narrow build makes him seem even taller. His hair curls at his neck, long and dark.

The fullness of his lips and the wideness of his eyes go over your head. You’re stuck staring at the dark pits of his eye sockets.

Black buttons for eyes.

“Oh shit.” It slips out before you can even register them leaving your lips. His eyebrows cross, and despite not having pupils, you know it’s from confusion. Maybe even some interest. 

“I’m sorry. You’re not…you’re not who I thought you were. They don’t have b-b-buh…”

“B-b-b-buttons? Of course I’m not who you were thinking of.” His buttons gleam mischievously. "I’m better.” He widens the door and grins, hardly giving you any time to comprehend the person - the being - in front of you.

He turns inside, craning his neck back and pursing his thick lips. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

You take a deep breath. The pounding of your heart is subdued by his aloofness: his curious…buttons and the beckoning of his slender finger. Plus, you’ve heard you only dream about someone you’ve already met. Or at least seen. Perhaps you’ve come across him at some point.

Your brain just decided to play a sick trick.

Exhaling, you walk through the door. The man waits until you’re fully inside before shutting it and the lights in the room brighten immediately.

Canvas, brushes, and colorful rags messily lay on the floor. Art stains the floor and now that you’re standing right beside him, you see it’s on his hands as well.

“I was painting when you knocked.” He sees your staring. “I tried putting some stuff away but…I tend to work a little messy.”

You wander further into the room. His artwork ranges from the moon in the sky to a black cat perched on a branch. As you keep exploring, you see the painting of you.

Not just you, but your roommates. The three of you are outside, the grass notably browner, and talking while the moving truck drives up the hill. The perspective is drawn from the higher window, right where the second floor is.

Goosebumps travel on your skin. No wonder you felt like something was watching before you walked through the front door. “You… saw that?”

The man comes closer and crosses his arms, squinting like he’s evaluating his piece. “Yup. I mean, I live here too, you know? Just on the Other side.”

“The Other side?”

He nods. “Yeah, every place has one. This is the Other side of the Pink Palace. Didn’t the place you lived at before have one?”

Besides the random dreams of the rooms being switched and the walls curing in, none felt like this. “I guess. I mean, a dream is a dream. Right?”

Something like danger flicks in his expression. His buttons seem to darken, but he smiles just as quickly as it appears. “Right.”

You shake off the shivers and look back at the painting, noting how he managed to capture Changbin’s height and Chan's build even from up high.

“You’re really good um…” You never got his name.

“Hyunjin.” He smiles bashfully. “You can call me Hyunjin. And thank you. I love art. I just see something beautiful and I have to paint it.” He steps closer, your shoulder on his arm. “Like, I just wish I could see beauty forever. I have to keep it somewhere or else I’ll forget.”

“And you think this was beautiful? The dying grass and everything?”

Hyunjin laughs. “There’s more than that. There’s you.”

You whip your head to him. “Me?”

“Of course.” His smile is infectious. “I told you I like drawing beautiful things. Your friends are pretty too, but I would love to get a portrait of just you.”

You’re flattered, but also off-put. “Why? You wanna keep me forever?” It’s meant to be a joke, a play from his words earlier, but he doesn’t laugh with you. Hyunjin keeps his smile still like he’s controlling himself from saying what he truly wants to say. But he finds something to settle with. “I think a painting will do for now.”

Finally, he laughs. It doesn’t quite reach his buttons, but it’s better than the eerie silence. Hyunjin pulls a chair and tosses the rags off, gesturing for you to sit.

You’re all too conscious of the fact that you’re pantyless. Even as Hyunjin keeps insisting that you sit more comfortably, you keep your legs crossed at all times.

It’s after a few strokes of his brush that Hyunjin breaks the silence. “Can I be honest with you?”

You raise an eyebrow. You can’t help how your body goes rigid, making you move from the position you’ve been in, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah.”

Hyunjin’s buttons meet your eyes only for a brief second before he looks back at his work.

“I saw more than just you three moving in.”

Your thighs tense. The movement makes them rub against your cunt and hit your clit, but you can ignore the burst of pleasure to focus on the pit in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Like. I saw you… find the key.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Saw you open the door. The mouse, ah, I didn’t mean to scare you.” There’s a faint smile on his lips. “But last night - tonight, I saw you and your friends…make love.”

You’d spit out water if you were drinking any. “I- I wouldn’t really call it making love but-”

“It didn’t matter what you call it. Sex, fucking, piping, none of it matters.” The sounds of his paintbrush cease. “I…I liked watching.”

There should be red flags going off. Hyunjin isn’t even looking at his painting. He isn’t even sitting on his stool anymore. He’s walking over to you and stopping just a few inches away, clenching and unclenching his fists like he needs to ground himself. 

“I liked it a lot.”

There should be red flags, there’s none in your mind. All you can see is the memory of Chan and Changbin fucking you. How one cock stretched your mouth while the other stretched your cunt. You’d be lying if you said you aren’t trying to hump against your thighs subtly, but all you can do is pulse and bat your eyes innocently at Hyunjin like you’re embarrassed.

“D-did you?”

Hyunjin falls to one knee. He’s so close you’re scared he might smell the sex on you. “I did. And, I also saw that you couldn’t get kisses.” 

His hand rests on your knee. He doesn’t have to use any strength to pry them open. You part your legs all on your own to put your cunt on display. Hyunjin inhales like he’s starstruck. His buttons seem to shine and he swipes over his bottom lip hungrily.

“I can do that for you now.” He leans in, lips ghosting over your inner thigh, and presses a gentle kiss to it. “If you’d like.”

Okay. You need a mental check-list:

One: He has buttons for eyes

Two: He’s from another world (apparently)

Three: He’s been watching you.

Four: HE HAS BUTTONS FOR EYES

But despite all that, you opt to tell yourself this is all a silly dream and nod, threading your fingers through his hair to guide him closer. Hyunjin lets his tongue trial the softness of your skin before finding your cunt. It’s not his tongue he prods it with, but his lips.

He’s kissing you as if it were your mouth. Soft, gentle pecks just on your clit. The sound of his lips smacking your own fills the room soon, and you widen your legs so he has full range.

But his tongue doesn’t make an appearance yet. Hyunjin trails his lips low to your entrance so he can kiss you there too, getting acquainted with every inch of your pussy. It feels way more intimate than if he were to use his tongue. Hyunjin pulls your skin taunt so he can properly plant his kitten kisses.

It’s when his lips are on your clit that he sucks. Your nub enters his mouth suddenly and you moan. Finally, his tongue swipes over you. It’s so much hotter than you would have imagined, and when he lets your cunt go, he licks a stripe up.

“Fuck.” Your legs threaten to close from the stimulation. You’re already shaking, but Hyunjin has just started to eat you properly.

He smiles with his tongue prodding your entrance. “Sensitive still?” It turns into a grin when he finds your clit again, flicking his tongue back and forth just to watch you grip the chair until your knuckles turn white.

The room erupts in giggles. Hyunjin can’t contain his laughter when your glossy eyes cross.

“Dick.”

His tongue moves back into his mouth, taking a string of arousal with it. Hyunjin moans at your taste, his throat bobbing as he looks up.

“Yeah. I bet you’d like that right now.” One of his fingers slides into your entrance. There’s hardly a stretch, but you squeal anyway. The tip of his finger feels so deep that you can’t stop clenching.

“Look at how you act with just a finger.” Hyunjin can’t look away from your cunt swallowing his digit. “Tight fucking pussy. No wonder why you always need it fucked.”

You mewl at his words. It only adds to the pleasure building in your stomach. Pools of arousal leak onto his finger down his wrist. You know he can see the cream oozing from your throbbing hole. He seems almost entranced by it.

“Are two cocks even enough for you?” Hyunjin’s buttons lock with your eyes.  “You had one in your mouth and one right in here. And you’re still wanting more.” His finger curls inside. You swear it’s touching your cervix, squeezing so much that your vision nearly goes black.

“You gonna fuck me?” You don’t know how you manage to speak. It comes out more as a challenge than a question, but Hyunjin perks up anyway.

He slows his finger, deep in thought. His lips are still shining with your arousal when he licks them. 

His answer is another digit sliding into your cunt. Now you can feel the light stretch. You completely still for the first time, drinking in the feel of his knuckles dragging up and down your walls.

It’s normally hard to cum from just being fingered, but Hyunjin seems as if he’ll get it on the first try.

“I don’t think you can even handle my fingers, baby.” You can feel his warm breath on your cunt. “Feels like you’ll cum any second.”

You’re trying to hold out, to ignore how his fingers hit that perfect spot and wiggle. You can feel your clit throbbing every time he buries his digits deep, and Hyunjin can’t help but take it into his mouth again.

A near-scream leaves your swollen lips when he licks you. Hyunjin doesn’t hold back in ravishing, nose digging into your swollen nub so his tongue can flick your folds. The pumping of his fingers only quickens, and you can hear how your cunt gushes with every piston of his hand.

“Yesyesyes, I’mma cum. Dontstopdontstop.”

You tug on his hair harshly. It’s almost like you’re trying to pull him off from how raw your cunt is getting, but Hyunjin knows to keep going. The spasming of your walls and your moaning only spurs him on even if your yanking makes him groan.

He only has to pump you a few more times before you come undone. Your stomach caves and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. You can feel the dribbling of your thick cream running down Hyunjin’s fingers.

His digits slow, but they don’t come to a full stop. Hyunjin lets you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand, uncaring for how you move his head down and up down messily on your pussy. He moans with you, making sure to keep his tongue stiff so you can rub your clit on it as you please.

It’s when your grip loosens that he pulls out. You whine from the loss, bucking your hips to catch his fingers, but meeting his lips instead. He kisses you gently, similar to when he started before your eyes turn droopy and your skin glows from the post-orgasm.

You widen your eyes when he pulls away. You nearly forgot about his buttons when you see them again, but you don’t flinch or look in horror this time. Instead, you wrap your legs around his waist when he stands and leans down to place his lips on yours.

You can taste yourself on him. The scent and everything about the kiss feels so real. Even his clothed cock pressing against your bare cunt throbs realistically. You giggle in his mouth, grinding your hips to hear him groan. “Now what? You gonna fuck me?”

Hyunjin smiles with you. He pulls away to make sure he can see you, really see you. It’s one beat of silence that passes, but the intensity of his buttons makes it seem like an eternity. 

“Now, you wake up.”

The worst part about dreams is forgetting them seconds after you wake. But even as you open your eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the window and sit up, you seem to remember everything.

The upper level, the paintings, Hyunjin, and the buttons. 

And of course, the ache between your thighs helps to keep the memories fresh. You should be too tired to get turned on by his plush lips and soft tongue, but your body seems to be awake almost immediately thinking about it.

Chan and Changbin aren’t here to help you with morning sex. Based on the letter they left on you on the bed, they’ve gone to the studio. 

Workaholics.

It still takes a second to get your legs to move without shaking. Your wet dream felt so realistic, so tangible. You could feel his mouth on yours if you tried. You can remember how his buttons gleamed between your legs. 

Too real. So real. 

You need to touch some grass. 

The Pink Palace’s property is huge. You thought the dying garden was a sight to see, but the little woods in the back quickly became your new destination.

If you ignore the creepy atmosphere and dying October trees, you can see this area as bewitching. You like the crunch of dead leaves beneath your boots and the twisting branches. You keep following the pathway until you stumble upon a fairy ring.

Weird. The mushrooms seem to circle perfectly, and you can't stop yourself from stepping right in the middle.

“Stop!” a voice calls in the distance. “Don’t stand there!”

You scream when you hear an engine revving. There’s not enough time to move when the motor rides down the top of the hill. All you feel is dirt hitting your face and strong arms swooping you until you are no longer surrounded by the fungi.

“Put me down!” Your fists connect with his back. Your shouting makes your kidnapper shout, and you swear you can hear the hissing of a cat somewhere.

“Owowow! Stop that!”

You’re set on your feet moments later. The rider stops in front of you to hop off his bike and kick the stand. You’re clutching at your chest when he takes off his helmet, showing a rather shy expression and wide eyes. 

Okay, so not a kidnapper. But a weird guy for sure. It doesn’t help that his black cat sits on a tree stump, blue eyes narrowed accusingly towards you.

That cat looks like just the one in Hyunjin’s painting. 

“Geez.” The man rubs his back, arms bending awkwardly. “You an MMA fighter or something?”

“Who are you?” His comment flies right over. There’s still some adrenaline thrumming in your veins, but you cross your arms and try to act unbothered. “Where did you even come from?”

“Oh.” He turns pink. The man rubs the back of his neck timidly. “I’m Han Jisung. I was riding my bike up there when I saw you walking into the woods. I didn’t mean to uh…follow you.”

The cat stretches uninterestedly when you point a finger at Han Jisung. “You’re stalking me?!”

“No! No, I was just-”

“I don’t like being stalked, not by stalker-weirdo-freaks, or their stupid cats!”

The feline hisses. 

“H-Hey! Don't call him that.” Jisung walks over to the cat, petting it behind the ear. “He’s sensitive. And he’s not mine. Well, maybe a little. I like to feed him at night. He leaves me little dead things as presents. It’s cute.”

You nod slowly. “...right”.

“And I know who you are. You just moved into the Pink Palace, right? My grandma owns the place.” He moves his hand away from the cat that chirps in protest.

“She stopped renting out after…everything.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but press. “After everything?”

“Oh, you know.” He laughs nervously. “Just costs a lot to keep a building as old as that one running. Maintaining the upper and lower levels even though they’re closed. Maybe she thought having tenets would help with the bills.”

But he’s talking too fast, too much. Almost as if he’s trying to find something you’ll buy while he flicks the kickstand up and hops on his bike. 

“But uhhh, I hope you’re liking the place! Old houses like that are full of mystery and history.” Jisung lightens up. “Oh! That rhymed. Haha. Uh, be careful where you step next time.” He gestures to the fairy ring. “You were standing on a well.”

You look at the mushrooms. “A well?” But his response is to start the engine. You take a few steps back and watch as he drives up the hill, leaving the stray cat behind.

It looks at you curiously. There’s a shine in its eye that feels more than just an animal. “What? Don’t tell me you’re gonna be my stalker too.”

[only-lonely-star]

LOVED THE SODA HCS CAN YOU DO SOME WITH X READER ONES WITH HIM? OR AT LEAST HIM WITH A ROMANTIC PARTNER HCS

‧₊˚ Dating Sodapop Curtis HCs ₊˚⋅

Warnings - There are a few that are for a fem!reader !! Majority are gender neutral.

Author’s Note - I was diagnosed with PNEUMONIA last week, I felt like absolute shit and the last thing I wanted to do was write. I’m feeling better now, so here’s some sweet headcanons! I hope you all enjoy!!!! 🤗🤍

·•·⚬·• ·•·⚬·•·•·⚬·•·•·⚬·•·•·⚬·•୨ৎ•·⚬·•· •·⚬·•· •·⚬·•· •·⚬·•· •·⚬·•·

Fight me on this one, Sodapop Curtis is a lover boy.

No seriously, I can’t see him hoeing around and seeing other people behind your back. Now. I will say, he might check someone out or partake in catcalling once in a while but he wouldn’t go beyond that. If anything, it’s probably to impress the other boys.

He would only date someone he’s totally infatuated with. He would never commit to a relationship if he wasn’t 100% about you.

I don’t think clingy is the right word, but Soda would always try to plan little dates with you or at least try to spend some free time with you whenever possible.

Quality time and words of affirmation are the love languages he likes to receive, and he likes to give physical touch and gifts.

He lovesss giving you hugs and small kisses specifically on the tip of your nose, chin, and practically any spot that typically goes unnoticed.

The day Soda brought you home to meet his brothers, Ponyboy stood gawking. His mouth wide open, eyes glued to yours, he quite literally fell in love. I don’t mean romantically, I mean he was just in total adoration. I just think it’s so cute to imagine Ponyboy finding you to be the most beautiful girl (which he gets to see almost daily since you’re at his brother’s side 24/7.)

Since you’re a 2 in-1 for him and serve as a best friend and a lover, he sometimes forgets he can’t roughhouse with you like he typically does with the boys. Play-fighting goes crazyyyy.

He shares literally everything with you. Clothing, food, secrets - everything.

He has a picture of you above his side of the bed (Like what he did with Sandy ☹️❤️)

He lives for the soft moments when he can just kiss you and gently massage your back and not have to worry about anything else because he’s comforted in your presence.

Since he’s a dropout he’d probably ask Darry to pick you up from school on their way home from work. That way he gets to spend the evening with you or maybe invite you to stay over for dinner.

On weekends, he invites you to hang around the DX with him and kill time. He gets so sick of Steve after working the weekdays that he wants a change in company LMFAO

I feel like he just has so much love to give, so having one person (you) to give it all to is so relieving. Bonus points if you’d rather have him all over you 24/7 specifically because you KNOW how loving he is. He hates feeling like he’s bothering you or annoying you by giving you constant attention.

Late-night calls are so funny. He’ll try to whisper and not wake Darry and/or Ponyboy up but he ends up forgetting it’s literally two in the morning and starts talking normally.

He ends every call with “I love you, see you soon” because he’s one of those people who thinks ‘it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later,’ PLUS he probably already made plans to see you the next day anyway 😭

Even though he isn’t the brightest when it comes to the 4 core classes, he tries his best to write little love notes and cards for special occasions. Valentine’s Day, your birthday, religious holidays, etc. He asks Ponyboy to proofread it and then help him make it sound “more romantic” since he can’t spell for shit and has to use the most basic words.

“Happy Birthday! You are my favrit person to talk to. You are funny and nice. I can not wait to grow old with you. I hope we have a butiful fewture. I duhsire to keep you by my side. I have not known some one like you buhfore. I love you more than you will ever know. - XOXO Sodapop Curtis” LMFAO STOP

Since he can’t afford much, he usually offers himself for the day. I mean like he’ll offer his time and efforts for you. “We can do whatever you want, have whatever snacks you want, watch any movie you want. My birthday treat :)”

He loves going to small concerts with you (like super underground local artists that are affordable) and letting you sit on his shoulders to see the stage.

If you have a super feminine room just TRUST he’s so entertained with it. He’ll fidget with the teddy bear on your bed, smell every perfume you have, trace the flowers on the wallpaper - he’s INVESTED.

If you were treated badly in the past by a horrible ex he would make it his life mission to be better than them and prove himself to you.

He includes you at family events as if you were married. Thanksgiving? Already made a plate for you at the table. Ponyboy’s graduation? You’re sitting in the rows of chairs with a congratulations card and everything. Family game night? Soda already decided you’ll deal cards first. You’re like family to his brothers and like a spouse to him.

If you tell him you’re proud of him just one time he will never forget it. He wants to feel validated by someone who isn’t his family so then it doesn’t feel ‘forced’.

If he’s not complimenting you, he’s busy admiring you.

Soda would so go for a girl who reminds him of his mother 🥲🥲. I headcanon him to be a momma's boy, so looking for motherly traits as well as the same charm and love his mother had for him would be a top priority for him.

He quite literally never shuts up. He feels comfortable with you, so TMI doesn’t exist. He’ll talk and talk and talk until you shut him up with kisses. That’s like the only way to get him to stop. He knows what he’s doing too.

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING !!

- Sophia 🫶🏼

[shadowbriar]

Fred Weasley - Selene and Helios

Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader  Word Count : 4k Warning : Mentions of food. Injury. Kinda foul language. Prompts : It’s always been you.” Prompt request is still open. You can find the link to the prompt list here. Notes : If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The Great Hall was filled with students, trying to fill their empty stomachs before facing the upcoming classes. Some were trying to multitask, finishing the essays that could’ve been done earlier had they not played around too much during the weekend, while the rest were throwing jokes and conversing with their peers in bliss. A very mundane Monday morning in Hogwarts.

Until the couple enters.

She watches the squabble with a displeased look, feeling pathetic to her best friend who’s now begging for his girlfriend’s forgiveness. Fred was chasing her, evidently pleading for another chance. Eversince the two started dating, the talk around the castle would always revolve around them. Not due to their lovely romance, no they were far from being the power couple people thought they would be, but because of the frequent public quarrels the two would hold. She believes for whatever sick reason his girlfriend has, it was no accident that their arguments were always of public amusement. Perhaps the attention and murmurs about their fight brings her a certain degree of pride, knowing that she’s the centre of attention. As if dating the Fred Gideon Weasley wasn’t already a haughtiness to brag about.

“Not again,” Lee rolled his eyes at the sight, turning to George “Couldn’t you do something about it? It’s an embarrassment for us all at this point.”

George shrugs, “What exactly do you want me to do? Send her a Self-propelling Custard Pies?”

“That’s an idea.”

“Fred would kill me.” George snorts and nudges her “The only person that could talk to him out of the relationship would be this Sweetheart right here.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” She scoffs, spreading the jam to her toast in annoyance “I’ve tried talking to him, to break up with that vile wench, for months and he’s yet to do it. At this point I’m convinced that she’s slipped him some kind of love potion cause there’s no way in the seven hells that our Fred would ever stoop so low for some girl like her.”

She clears her throat, realising that her jealousy has bleed out. The envy she’s tried so hard to contain for the past month slightly erupted, leaking the drops of resentment through her words. She mentally cursed herself and tried to keep her nonchalant veneer, hoping that the boys would be as oblivious as they always have.

It is one of the worlds’ greatest unsolved mysteries how none of her closest friends seem to notice her brewing infatuation for the older Weasley twin. Don’t ask her when the butterflies started because she couldn’t recall the time when things were anything but lovely whenever he’s around. It was as if he amplified the colours in her world, blessing her with warmth and laughter that she could find nowhere else. Nowhere but his side.

She knew that being bitter over his love life isn’t a very good best friend thing to do. She shouldn’t feel this much resentment, knowing and seeing him with someone else when she never made any advances with her feelings. But the stories Fred shared with her, the choked tears he always tried to hold at night, and the stunts his girlfriend would make him do in public made her seethe. She couldn’t help but to think of how much better their lives would have been had she been the one he’s dating. She would never let him make a fool of himself in public. She would never make him cry at night. She would never make him think that he didn’t love her just enough.

She wanted to rescue him from the collapsing building before it crushes him whole. No, she could never forgive that devil spawned woman if she ever hurt him that severely. She’d hex her to death if it ever comes close to that, for sure. But she couldn’t find a way to save him without having to break his heart. She’s convinced that Fred really loves her, hence all the effort he’s done to make her stay. As much as she’s tormented, she wouldn’t want to be the reason Fred would have his heart broken.

“I just don’t understand.” George mutters, snapping her back to reality “Why would he be so hell bent on keeping her around when his heart’s bound for another?”

She raised an eyebrow, confused at the younger twin’s comment but before she could ask him to elaborate, Fred joined the table with a forced smile.

“Morning.” He greets the group, taking his seat next to her “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

The group nods, not uttering a word at the awkward atmosphere around.

“Here,” She pushed a plate to him “2 toasts, this time it’s blueberry jam cause you had strawberry yesterday.”

The same thing with not knowing when exactly did she start to fall for the loud and obnoxious boy, she wasn’t sure either when she picked up the habit of doing things Fred would unconsciously do. They’ve done this for years. Whoever came to the table first would be the one to make the breakfast for the other. She knew exactly of his preferences, how he likes fruit flavoured jams better than chocolate or peanut butter. She knew which slice of the bread is his most favourite and the degree of burnt he likes to have on his toasts. And even if there’s no toast served at the table, she knew exactly what to get for the boy.

Sometimes she wonders if he’s simply oblivious of her affection or chose to ignore it all together.

Fred smiles gratefully, “What would I do without you?”

“Die of starvation, most probably.” She comments, brows furrow in fake thought “Or of boredom from the long hours of detentions. Or of critical injuries from your stupid pranks.”

“You love my pranks.”

“That I do.” She agrees, nodding “But not when you get hurt from it.”

Fred stares at her fondly. His facial features were soft, staring at her as if she was the most invaluable thing in his possession. Thankfully before she could over analyse his gesture, before a slight hint of hope blooms in her heart that perhaps he might share the same impressions as her, Fred gave her a friendly nudge and laughed it off. As always giving a clear sign that they’ll never set a toe out of the platonic line. Ever.

—-

Spending the break at the Burrow would forever be something she wished she could live forever in. She loves waking up to the smell of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, the warm breeze and the melodious sound of birds chirping in the morning. But if she has to choose just one thing that made her love visiting the Burrow, it would be the evening drive with Mr. Weasley’s flying car.

She wasn’t sure what kind of sweet talk the Weasley twin did to grant access to the car again after the accident with Harry and Ron back in their second grade, but somehow the prankster has managed to regain their parents’ trust on driving the said car. Fred would always say that it was because they’re driving with her that his mother couldn’t find the heart to say no. She’s been loved by the family as if their own for years and Mrs. Weasley has always had a softer spot for daughters.

“Where are we going again?” She asks as she puts one of her hands out of the window, trying to feel the wind passing by through her fingertips “And why isn’t George coming with us? I thought you twins couldn’t function without the other.”

“I wanted to show you this spot I found.” Fred answers, a giddy smile plastered on his face “I came across this place when I went with Dad, so not even George knew of this place.”

She turned to face him with an amused expression, “So I’m the first to ever enter Fred Weasley’s secret sanctuary? Why, I’m flattered.”

“Well, you are my best friend.”

Her smile dims down. She turns her head away, not wanting Fred to notice her change of demeanour. Best friends. That’s all she would ever be in his eyes. Somehow the title gives her more of a heartache than pleasant these days.

A couple minutes later she finds the car slowing its speed as they reach a grass field. She could see a pond up front with ducks swimming around its surface. The sight brought her bright smile back. She’s always loved lakes and ponds and it warms her heart that the place Fred could find his peace at is somewhere she could feel connected to.

“Pretty neat, isn’t it?”

“Neat? This place is gorgeous!” She squeals, turning to the boy with a joyful expression “Why didn’t you tell me we’re going to the pond, I would’ve brought a swimming suit!”

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?” He scoffs “Besides, if you brought your swimming suit then Ginny would ask questions and she would want to come. And if she comes, Hermione would want to come. And if the girls come, Ron and the rest of the family would want to come and we know how limited the seating is in the car.”

“Well, we can always get here with a broom or apparate.”

“That’s beside the point, alright? This is my spot. I get to decide who gets to come and not.” Fred says as he rolled his eyes, seemingly faking an annoyed tone “Don’t make me regret showing it to you.”

She smiles, turning back to see the scenery. The place was so peaceful she couldn’t help but wanting to get out of the car, yet seeing that Fred had made no move she didn’t want to be the first to get out. Staying in the car would do, so long as she’s with him.

“She hasn’t replied to any of my letters.”

She blinks, not turning to face the boy.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong.” Fred continues, words laced with dejection “I tried so hard to impress her, to show her that I cared for her, but all she did is toy with my feelings.”

She takes a deep breath. Of course, the reason he wanted to bring her to his secret hideout was not to share his little haven but because he needed someone to talk to. Someone who’ll be foolish enough to listen to him no matter how tormented she really is on the inside. Just how ridiculous it is for her to think that she was special in his eyes for him to have shown this place out of spite.

“Do you reckon I made a mistake?” He asked, voice creaking softly “Did I try too hard with her? Am I making her uncomfortable?”

“Fred, listen to me,” She turned to him, placing her hands to his shoulders “You did nothing wrong, alright? She’s just that thick on the head to ever realise how lucky she is to be with you, to be the girl you try so hard to impress, try so hard to love. You’re the best boyfriend any girl could ever ask for, believe me.”

He flashed an unsure smile.

“I mean honestly, the only question you should be asking yourself is why are you still with that wench when it’s obvious that you deserve so much more than that.” She continued “Seriously, you could pick any girl in the castle, any girl. I’m sure they would say yes to you and would treat you much better than her.”

“Any girl?”

“Any girl.”

“Including you?”

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She fakes a laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly in a friendly stunt “It’s hot here, we should get out of the car.”

She fans herself with her hand, hoping the warmth creeping up to her cheeks would soon die down. She prays that he wouldn’t notice her peculiar act nor how crimson she is. His question has taken her aback, completely fallen off guard. Thank Godric her mouth could act faster than her brain cause if she had to wait for her brain to function, the secret will surely be out and she’s certainly not ready to burn their friendship down.

Yet instead of opening the lock of the doors, Fred takes her hand and entwines it with his. He does this ever so gently, the most tender act he’s done to her that made her stomach flips even harder. Their fingers lock each other ever so slowly, as if wanting to savour every passing second that their skin is in contact.

“Thank you,” He says softly with a smile “For always being there for me.”

She nods lightly, smiling as fondly to him, “You’ll do the same for me.”

“Yeah,” He chuckles crisply “I’ll do the same for you.”

—-

She could tell of what her nightmares for the next weeks to come would be. She couldn’t shake the horror, the sight of him falling off of his broom when the bludger hit him right on the head. She’s never felt her heart beating faster, her legs to run quicker than a couple hours ago when she tried to catch his stretcher before it entered the infirmary. After all these years of being the Gryffindor beater, Fred has never had any serious injuries and to have watched him fall from such height indubitably made her worry.

Now waiting for Fred to wake up from his slumber, she finds herself sighing, watching the boy with bandaged head still with worried eyes. Madam Pomfrey assured her that he’d sustain nothing serious and that he could leave the Hospital Wing the following morning, but until she could see his brown eyes and smile again, she would not be able to rest.

“Uh, my head.” Fred groans as he gradually gains his consciousness “What happened?”

“Nasty bludger to the head.” She says, letting out a relieved huff “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit in the head with a bludger.” He retorts, making her smile that his joking side is still intact “Did we win?”

“We did. Did you think Harry would let the snitch slip after you fell from your broom like that?” She asked with a raised brow “But that’s irrelevant now, do you want me to call for Pomfrey? Make sure your brain isn’t all jumbled up inside?”

Fred rolled his eyes as he sat straight up, “I’m fine. No need to worry your pretty little mind for me.”

She flashed a smile, nodding in understanding.

“So, uh,” He speaks again, rubbing his nape in nervousness “Did she, uh, did she come to see me?”

Her brows furrow and smile dilutes, feeling a sense of anger to spark within.

“I mean it’s dark already, reckon it’s late at night and all.” He continues “Did she come at all?”

“No, she didn’t.” She answered short, venom thick on her tone “Doubt she even cared.”

Fred flashed a pained expression.

“Look, Fred, I know this is the worst timing for me to tell you this but you have to get it together, alright? She doesn’t deserve you!”

He watches her with no words, looking baffled at her expression.

She stood from her seat, running her hand through her hair frustratedly. Merlin knows just how much she tries to calm herself, to tell herself to bottle the anger and jealousy in. Fred’s just gotten an injury, for Godric’s sake. The last thing she should do is to project her anger at the poor boy.

But she couldn’t shake the image of him helpless, laying on the ground weakly after the fall. She couldn’t forget the heavy tears falling from her eyes as she tried to follow his stretcher to the infirmary. She couldn’t forgive the fact that even after the match was done, the only people who came were his family and closest friend. No sign of that wretched toad. And to know that he still hoped for her to have come hurts her beyond words.

“She doesn’t care, Fred, she never did!” She yelled, not caring how her words echoed through the empty ward “Just how much more heartbreaks do you have to sustain to see it? She doesn’t care! Why are you tearing your heart apart for someone who clearly doesn’t give a damn about you?”

He gulps, not looking heartbroken but rather appalled at the turmoil.

“It hurts me to see you like this, to see you throw away your pride for someone who always stomped it to the ground with a laugh. It hurts me to see that you care so much for someone who never even returned just a smidge of all your efforts. It hurts me to see that you’re so dead set to love someone who never deserved you in the first place. It hurts me and I can’t take it anymore, alright!”

“Love-”

“You are vexing me to my bones, Fred Weasley.” She says with so much bitter passion, fists tightly curved into a ball “It infuriates me that you could show so much love and patience for someone so wrong when I’m here, standing right in front of you, when I’m here showing and giving you all the love and care you deserve.”

Her eyes widened. No, she did not just profess her feelings to him, she couldn’t.

Fred was quiet. He looks as if he’s just seen the ghost of himself, barely blinking as he tries to digest the words she’s just uttered. He prays to whichever deity out there that he heard her right, that it wasn’t the potion Pomfrey gave him that made him hear things, that it wasn’t due to the fact that his brain is all scrambled to make him hear the words he’s been dying to hear all these years.

“I-” She stammers, looking away from his gaze “I have to go.”

“No, wait-”

She didn’t let him finish his words, finding her feet to run out of the Hospital wing as fast as it could carry her. She wanted to hex herself to death right then and there. How could she let it slip, especially at the worst possible timing? How could she let her rage and envy take the better of her? How could she lash out on him when he needed her to be of his support?

And how would she face him after this?

—-

The following morning she tries her best to avoid the redhead boy. The moment she entered the Great Hall she could already see him seated on their usual spot, two plates of toasts in front of him, one she knew was supposed to be hers. But given their unpleasant exchange last night, she finds herself seated far across the table, joining the group of friends she barely had ever spoken with and trying to blend in with them. Anything to not face her cause of death just yet.

She’s also skipped all the classes that they shared during the day. Having to switch seats with someone else doesn’t feel enough. She has to avoid the man altogether to keep her sanity.

And such effort was successful until he found her sitting by the Black Lake.

“Love-”

“Leave me alone, Fred.” She says fast as his voice enters her ear, packing her belongings “I don’t want to see you.”

“Please, I just want to talk-”

“Not now, Fred.”

She begins to walk away from the boy. Heart aching because of the fear of what he has to say. She knew that he couldn’t avoid him forever, but the event had only happened last night and she barely had processed everything that’s happened. She needed more time and space to think and contemplate.

“I love you!”

Her pace was at halt as she heard his scream, not daring to turn her body to face him.

“There, I said it, okay? I love you.” He repeats, despair evident in his tone “Now you can keep walking away from me, and I kid you not, I’ll keep on yelling until you stop and listen to me, so it’s your choice. We can either be civil and talk privately or I can keep on yelling the three words for the whole castle to hear and you know I have no shame left to my soul.”

She finally turns to see him who now has a bright red cheek, chest heaving in a tidal wave of emotions.

“I love you.” He repeats, this time with a much softer tone “And I’m sorry that it’s taken me forever to say it but I love you, so much I’m going to combust if I have to spend another day not telling you how I truly feel.”

She stares at him with unconvinced eyes, “Don’t joke with me, Fred.”

“I’m not joking.” He says fast, coming closer to her to prove his truth “You can ask George, he’s been hearing my yearnings of you for years. If any of the words I spoke just now were lies I’ll cut my own tongue and feed it to Errol.”

“But-” She stutters, not comprehending any of his words “What about her? You’ve been dating her for years and-”

“I only dated her because I thought you would never see me that way.” He explains, gently taking her hands in his “I thought if I could try to love someone the same way I love you, I could make them fall for me and I would be able to bury my feelings for you. I thought you never loved me that way, so I had to find an outlet to express my affection but Merlin knows that everything I’ve done for her, I pray that I could actually do it for you.”

She gazed into his eyes, trying to find any trace of lies or jest he might be pulling.

“I love you.” He repeats, placing one hand to her cheeks “It’s always been you.”

Her expression softened, accepting his genuine words, “Then why haven’t you said anything? Why did you have to make assumptions about my feelings instead of actually asking me about it?”

“Because I’m not ready to lose you completely if you don’t feel the same.” Fred explains, his eyes filled with guilt “I’d rather get myself crushed by the Whomping Willow than to lose you.”

She rolled her eyes, “What is it with you and wanting to conjure so much injury to yourself.”

“I’m only trying to prove my point.” He grins “I dare say those words because I knew you wouldn’t ever let me get to that point, to hurt myself that severely. You’ve always been my saviour, after all.”

She grins back at the comment. The trouble that’s been plaguing her mind all night dissipates, evaporating into thin air and exchanged into a blissful delight that now sparks every inch of her fibre. For once she could finally embrace the jolt of electricity on her spine and not fight every butterflies exploding in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me?” She asks, baffled at his question “What about her?”

“I dumped her this morning, I couldn’t care less about her.” He snorts, the typical Fred Weasley bravado’s apparent “She could jump off the bridge for all I care. I only want you.”

A proud and satisfied smile creeps to her face as she nods in approval. Fred grins back, the hint of redness on his cheeks still evident as he leans in. She has to quietly pinch herself as their lips touch, making sure that none of the events happening was a dream. Fred was pulling her so close she could feel his heart pounding in a frenzied rhythm inside his chest. This is really happening.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Fred chuckles as he pulls away “I’ll forever curse my stupidity for having wasted that many years of our lives being a coward.”

“Well you have forever to make up for it.” She smiles, giggling “Now kiss me again or I won’t ever forgive you, Fred Weasley.”

[frozenjokes]

More Complications About Love, Polyamory Is Cool, And Like. A Lot Of CubScar Fluff + Hurt/Comfort

‘I’m okay. Gonna stay over with Mumbo for the night, he’s taught me this new card game and I’m crushing him at it. Talk to you tomorrow, promise.’ Accompanying the text was an image of Mumbo laying on the floor next to a messy pile of playing cards, his hands firmly over his eyes.

Cub couldn’t stop staring. He probably should have responded by now, but he found himself stuck, eyes glued to the softly glowing screen in his dim room, fingers tense around his phone. And it wasn’t that he thought Grian was lying, or anything along those lines, Cub believed him, but this, the text he’d been anticipating for what felt like endless hours (thirty minutes, in reality), was supposed to make him feel better. To fix him. To stop him from feeling so shit. Grian was okay, he was with a friend. Cub was proud, deeply, unbelievably proud that Grian had sought Mumbo out in the first place, and not just because Cub knew how badly Grian missed him, how badly he wanted to reconnect. He was proud because Grian had been challenged; by what, Cub still didn’t know, but he had clearly been upset, and instead of self-destructing, Grian had made a conscious effort to find someone that could help. That could meet his needs.

‘I’m glad you’re okay. Call me in the morning.’ Cub sighed, sending the text before he could back track. See? That wasn’t so hard. But he didn’t stop staring. At the words, at the picture. He didn’t move at all.

He wasn’t used to this. Not being enough.

And what a stupid, selfish thing to be upset about, really, Cub felt sick to his stomach just thinking about it, but he was upset, because he wasn’t enough, and Grian didn’t want to- Grian couldn’t come to him anymore for every problem he was having. Grian wouldn’t come to him for anything having to do with HotGuy. It all just made Cub feel like he had made the wrong choice.

Whatever had set Grian off tonight, it had to have been due to HotGuy. Cub couldn’t think of anything else. Any other reason why Grian wouldn’t come home.

Had Grian felt this way? When Scar had first approached Cub, showering him in attention, making him feel good quite frankly, and soft and warm and playful. Cub liked having Scar trailing at his heels, pining like a little girl, kicking his feet and drawing hearts around Cub’s name and looking at him like there was no one else in the world he’d rather love. That in itself was insane, Cub could not fathom why Scar was so infatuated with him, but after he stopped trying to make sense of him, it just started to be fun. Cub liked to play Scar’s little game, to see the soft look of dejection when Cub ignored an advance or didn’t laugh at a joke, or the way Scar’s face lit up when Cub paid him the smallest of compliments; Scar was just adorable, period. And he was patient too- Scar knew that Cub knew Scar was smitten, but there was no rush, no pressure, and Scar never failed to be delighted with whatever Cub felt like giving on any given day. At least, that’s how Scar came off; for all Cub knew, Scar could be getting frustrated, or was unhappy with the pace of their growing relationship, but Cub really didn’t think so. Scar was just so happy. So genuine. In any case, Cub was pretty sure if Scar didn’t say every thought that ran through his head out loud at least ten times he would explode. If Scar wasn’t happy, Cub would know.

And Grian had watched. He said his peace plenty, enough for Cub to know very explicitly how much he didn’t love what was happening here, but Cub had thought that was all because Grian didn’t like HotGuy, not because Grian loved him.

Cub considered himself an independent person. He was proud of his independence, of enjoying his own company, of needing little outside support to keep him happy and healthy. He liked that about himself. All of this made him feel entirely more pathetic for being so dependent on Grian. For not even realizing until he was stuck staring at a stupid text from stupid Grian with stupid Mumbo having a great time without him after fixing all the problems that Cub couldn’t solve because Cub couldn’t be right for everything- he couldn’t always be there.

And he KNEW that. He KNEW it was good for Grian to make more friends, to have more support systems to lean on, to have more options when times got tough, and he needed someone to turn to. Which made it all the more frustrating that Cub was still SO UPSET. Was he so much of a control freak? Maybe he just needed to throw a little fit. To be a complete baby and then stop being a baby and start being normal about his friend having other friends.

So Cub did just that, thrashing around in his bed and punching the mattress and yelling into his pillow until he collapsed face down, limp. Well. He didn’t feel better but that was a little fun. And he wasn’t looking at his phone.

He didn’t remember feeling this way so strongly about Micah. Though, in all honesty, Cub didn’t really think about Micah very much at all. He had noticed when Grian had started complaining about HotGuy less. But Cub had also been getting annoyed, particularly when he felt like he couldn’t be honest about his own feelings. All Grian’s feathers would puff up and he’d get a bit red in the face, and those weren’t conscious actions, but it made talking about HotGuy more like a chore. Maybe he’d been so relieved that Grian’s ire was being funneled elsewhere, he simply didn’t care. And no, Cub shouldn’t have to listen to Grian drag Scar for hours and hours if he didn’t want to, but he just wished the price wasn’t.. this.

Again, Cub wondered if he made the right choice. Choosing Scar, even when Grian wanted him to pursue this. When Grian insisted that this would be good for them (he was probably right), that he had his own things going on. With Micah. Mm. Grian had seemed to like it when Cub discovered Jealousy in that dusty old storage room, and in a way, it was a little bit fun in the context of their kiss, to have that longing, that want, but it was a little less fun now, the idea of Grian simply not being single all the time forever just a little bit terrifying.

And that was normal. Jealousy was a normal, human feeling, one that Cub didn’t have to feel bad about. He knew that perfectly well. But along with the pile of other things Cub knew, that didn’t exactly stop him from Feeling anyway. And it wasn’t a big deal. He would get over it. But he wasn’t so confident he could just ‘get over’ Grian, and that wouldn’t be fair to Scar. Cub groaned into his hands. He was not looking forward to that conversation. Hi Scar. Before things move any further, I just need you to know the thing that I learned about myself yesterday, being that I may be hopelessly inseparable from my roommate that hates you. Sorry for leading you on. I had no idea. But you probably won’t believe that. And I wouldn’t blame you.

Yeah.. Cub and HotGuy probably wouldn’t be talking anymore after that conversation. Well that would solve his current dilemma at least. But then he’d be down a friend, and that would suck. Cub didn’t have many of those, and he really did like HotGuy.

Beside him, Cub’s phone buzzed, an incoming call. Speak of the devil. Well, Cub wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon anyway. He picked up the phone, and didn’t even get to say hello before Scar spoke.

“HI! Can I meet you?”

Cub winced away, turning down the volume by several notches. Processing the words, he thought for a moment. Fuck it. Why not? “Yeah. Come over.”

Whatever noise of surprise Scar made caught over the speaker, and Cub probably would have laughed if he wasn’t so doom and gloom right now, “Is- Is Grian home? I uh- I probably shouldn’t-”

“Grian’s staying with a friend tonight.” Cub interrupted, firm. ‘He needed space from me,’ was left unsaid, but the thought still burned low in his chest. “I would like it if you came over. I could use the company. Having a bit of a crisis.”

“Say no more!” Scar couldn’t have sounded more delighted, though there was a lilt to the edge of his voice that bordered on crazed, “I’m having my own Moment though I wouldn’t call it a crisis. I feel good! I feel good.” Scar said, in the voice of someone who was definitely also going through it. Cub could feel his restless energy through the phone, finding it the slightest bit infectious. This was dangerous, he could already tell.

Cub opened his mouth to ask about Grian, but snapped it shut, suddenly not wanting to know. “Great. See you soon.”

Suddenly feeling restless, Cub got to his feet. He just wanted to move, but felt a little stupid walking in circles, so he started tidying up a bit, and that felt good. He wasn’t a messy person, at least, not as messy as Grian was, but his room could definitely get away from him sometimes, which only made times like these where he sat and sulked feel worse. This was good. Very good. For about the hundredth time this week, he wished he had fireworks, or the materials to make them. Not exactly easy when they were illegal in the state. Maybe he could take a train or something out of state to buy some. That would probably be a waste of money. Who cared?

Scar eventually texted to be buzzed in, and Cub did so, Scar showing up and knocking at his door less than a minute later. It took Cub a moment to realize that something was off, but he stumbled back in his surprise, unsure if he should cover his eyes, “Scar! Your- Your mask-“

“You’d better believe it!” Scar threw a wild grin, inviting himself inside and kicking the door closed behind him, “I’m done! I’m free! Who cares if the world sees my face- I don’t care anymore! I want them to see! I want- I want you to see! This is me, Cub, no masks, no facades. Nice to meet you, I’m Scar. Also known as HotGuy. Also known as Micah by some, though not many. Micah has quite a few names.”

“You- I’m not so sure this is a good idea-“ Cub cut himself off, gaping at that last little tidbit of information, “Micah!? Oh- oh. You know, my evening makes a lot more sense now. I never did meet him, did I?”

“And you never will! Micah is dead. DEAD! I killed him. Gone. I hate Micah. Dead.” Scar made a dramatic stomping motion in his enthusiasm, then a few more times, sufficiently killing that alter ego, apparently, “And I hate HotGuy too. I’d kill him if it wasn’t my job. Maybe I still will! Maybe I’ll just quit! I hate all of it! I’m starting over.”

Cub was beginning to think whatever ‘Moment’ Scar was having, it was a little bit bigger than his own. “Can you.. Is this like- You know, maybe I’m misunderstanding how you can just stop having a civilian identity. Are you just.. going to be HotGuy all the time?”

“No! I won’t be HotGuy at all! Dead!”

“Uhm.” Cub fidgeted with his hands, though Scar didn’t seem to notice, pacing around his living room, “Then.. Who do you want to be? Should I call you something different?”

“Call me Scar! Just Scar. That’s not HotGuy’s name, it’s my name, and I don’t know who me is yet, but tonight we’re going to figure it out!” Scar snapped around, eyes bright. In a terrifying lunge forward, he grabbed Cub’s hands, but Scar looked so genuinely enthusiastic, Cub found it difficult to mind. “Do you like my face?”

Cub couldn’t help but laugh, something soft, “I do. The scars suit you, even if they’re covered up most of the time.”

“I like your face too! Can I kiss you?”

“Maybe later,” Cub smiled, and Scar beamed, releasing Cub’s hands to return to his pacing.

“Well, let’s go back to the basics then, yeah? Who is Scar..” he trailed off, eyes narrowed. They were green, Cub noticed. He’d never actually known. But he didn’t get much time to examine the other previously obscured details when Scar perked up, snapping his fingers, “Scar doesn’t have legs! Can I take these off?”

“Uh-“ It took Cub a moment to realize what Scar was actually talking about, then with a jolt he said, “Yeah, man, do whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t care.”

“Oh! Good idea! That might help, so uncomfortable all the time,” Scar trailed off in a bit of a grumble before beginning to mess with his pants- okay, yeah, sure, just right here, that was fine.

“Do you want to-“ Cub had to think for a moment for the right word in his slight panic, “-change- in my room or a bathroom or something? A little more privacy?”

“Nope!” Scar said brightly, missing Cub’s discomfort entirely, “This is just fine!” Regardless, Cub not-so-subtly turned away; this wasn’t even the first time Scar had taken off his legs around him or anything, this just felt a little vulnerable is all, and Cub wasn’t quite expecting Scar to just plop right down on the floor and start messing with his clothes- really, he could have at least sat on the couch, but apparently the precious seconds it would take to sidle over there were too much in Scar’s brain.

After a minute or so Scar ‘whooped!’ and Cub turned around to see him doing somersaults in his boxers. He wondered absently how many noise complaints he’d gotten tonight, but Scar’s grin was so wide, so joyful, and suddenly he wasn’t all that concerned. If Scar wanted to roll around like a crack raccoon then so be it. Let him have his moment.

“Pick me up!” Scar seemed to materialize at his feet (fuck he was fast-) staring up with those doe eyes of his and- no, Cub wasn’t going to-

“I don’t know if that’s a great idea,” he said instead, nicer.

Scar scoffed, “You’re not going to hurt me. I’ll have you know I’m at least top five on the list of Least Fragile People in this city, and let me tell you, that’s a high bar.”

“Trust me, I do not think you’re fragile. I think you’re heavy, and I’m not very strong. I’ll probably pull a muscle or something and then drop you, and I don’t care if you care if you’re dropped, I do not want to.”

“I’m not heavy! I’m like- I’m like 180lbs, maybe, and like most of that is leg. Trust.”

“That is just not true. Your prosthetics do not weigh nearly that much, I doubt they even weigh more than an actual leg.”

“Bleh.” Scar furrowed his brow pointedly, sticking out his tongue.

“No, no, not bleh. Bleh you. You might not be fragile, but I am.”

“Cub!” Scar announced, puffing out his chest, “I want to be held! I demand that you hold me! Scar wants to be held, you wouldn’t refuse the newly rebirthed Scar, would you?”

“I absolutely would,” Cub chuckled, stepping around him, and Scar released the most affronted gasp Cub had heard from anyone in his entire life, following close behind.

“I will climb you!”

“You- no you will not!” Cub stumbled in a pathetic little jump away, but Scar gave chase, his grin sharp, “Scar! I do not have a belt on!”

“You better run then, because I’m coming!”

“that’swhatshesaid.”

Scar just gaped at him for a moment of genuine shock, staring utterly stupidly up at him like he didn’t know whether to be angry or impressed. Scar shut his mouth. Then opened it again. “CUB!”

Cub laughed, open and full, but Scar began his attack with a vengeance, snagging at the leg of Cub’s sweatpants just too late as Cub hopped away. With a little more terror, Cub leapt in the other direction, Scar howling at his knees as they looped around the couch. Scar was fast, terrifying so, and Cub was not pretending when he skidded around the kitchen table, slipped when Scar looped the other way, and scrambled off his knees just as Scar’s hand slipped off his ankle. Just then, Cub got the impression Scar might be the one going easy on him, but he was not about to test that theory, tearing away to the couch and jumping gracelessly over the back.

“You think I can’t get up there, Cub?” Scar sneered, having too much fun as he snaked around the side, but Cub was ready, nailing him with the heaviest cushion off the seat. Scar squeaked, falling off balance with a gentle oof, and Cub wasted no time snatching another pillow from the sofa and beating him with it. Scar squealed, laughing, and Cub did not relent, not until Scar stopped fighting, not until he was sure the other was tired. This did not happen. Apparently Scar didn’t just ‘get tired.’ Well. Cub did.

So he stopped, replacing the cushion and pillow to their rightful places before falling back on the couch, letting his head hang back. After a minute or two, Scar pulled himself off the floor, and Cub side-eyed him as he poked his head around the side. Not unlike a cat, Scar seemed eager to test his luck, tie toeing (on his fucking fingers, christ, what a gloat) forward near the empty seat, then a little closer to Cub’s legs.

“I could use some help.. getting up..” Scar said, piteous as he glanced up from his place on the floor. He shifted his weight on his hands, looking lost, actor that he was.

“You can do it.” Now Cub really felt like he was talking to a cat. Though, if he was, the cat would be a hell of a lot more convincing than the grown ass man pittering on his floor. Scar did give it his best shot though, engaging in a staring contest that he was never going to win, giving up, whining a little, pushing his head pathetically against the couch cushion, then finally, pulling himself up without issue. “There you go,” Cub mumbled, and Scar lit up, decidedly missing that Cub was teasing.

“Anyone sitting here?” Scar gestured vaguely, and Cub snorted despite himself. Scar took this as a solid no, and sidled his way right at Cub’s side, leaning a little awkwardly to rest his head on Cub’s shoulder. Cub let his own head fall on Scar’s. It would probably be more comfortable for the both of them to do this the other way around; Scar had a good couple inches on him after all, but he seemed content regardless, and who was Cub to deny him anything.

“Hey,” Scar looked up after a minute, gently curious. You know, Cub was starting to agree with him about the mask thing. Look at those eyes..

“Hi,” he said, one too many moments later, “Whatcha need?”

“Oh, I mean,” Scar looked startled, like he wasn’t prepared for Cub to guess he had a question, “I mean, when we were talking over the phone, you said you weren’t doing well. You okay?”

Cub sighed, not entirely sure how to answer the question, so he took a moment to close his eyes, think about it. “Dunno. I feel alright now. Don’t want to ruin the mood or anything, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’d like to hear if you want to share. Is it about Grian?” Scar asked like he knew, and Cub couldn’t help but squirm. Of course it was. Who else? What else?

“A little bit,” he said, carefully, but caved as he felt Scar’s eyebrows raise against his neck, “Yes. But you don’t want to hear about Grian, and this is stupid anyway. I’ll get over it.”

“I do actually, and I mean that, I did want to talk about him- not-” Scar must have felt Cub slump, or maybe heard the roiling in his stomach, “-not bad! I mean, I’m sure you know we had a bit of a talk tonight, a heart to heart if you will, and it was nice, though ended a bit abruptly, which. My bad.”

“I didn’t.” Cub pushed the words out through gritted teeth, suddenly overcome with the striking feeling he might cry. Damn. It had been awhile, hadn’t it.. Cub couldn’t even remember. Maybe he was due. Not here though, not on Scar, for goodness’ sake. “I figured.. I mean, I knew a bit more clearly when you showed up, but.. I didn’t know. He didn’t want to tell me.” Cub felt his heart rattling in his lungs, shaking his ribs. God, he didn’t want to do this, not now.

Scar hummed, a quiet understanding. He took his time before he answered, eyes distant across the room, staring right through the wall. “Well, Grian wanted to meet me to talk about a couple things. He wanted to tell me a bit about his past, all those little escapades he’s embarked on while he’s been unemployed. He wanted to show me he could be honest, I think. That he wanted to be honest with me. Be- uh- nicer to me.”

“Did he..” Cub mumbled, unhappiness churning in his chest. Logic didn’t seem to matter anymore, whether it was any of Cub’s business or not, all he could think about were the things Grian wasn’t telling him. And that was so selfish- so unfair! He and Grian had just had a massive heart to heart yesterday, and a lovely afternoon- why was he being so awful. Grian didn’t have to tell him anything. Especially not wanting to talk to Scar, that was his own damn business.

“He did,” Scar said, kindly. “And he told me he was in love with you. That you loved him back, but that you two had decided it might be better to branch out, to see where that takes you.”

For a moment, Cub was okay. And then everything fell apart. The dam broke, and he was sobbing, wretched and cold, holding himself in a vice. Scar’s head lifted from his shoulder, and gently, so gently, he pulled Cub into a loose hug, a suggestion of comfort, one that Cub could leave without issue. He didn’t. He didn’t want to lose this.

“I’m sorry,” Cub choked on the words, and felt Scar’s fingers graze his scalp, carding through his hair, and he sobbed harder, harder under love so kind.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know. I’ve led you on. I’ve led you on, and I’m not even good for Grian either, ‘cause I can’t leave him the fuck alone! I want everything, I want everything and I have no right. And I still- I still like you.”

“That’s okay, Cub.”

Cub balled his fists around his own shirt, arms still locked across his chest, “You don’t have to say it just because. I don’t like it. Tell me how you feel or not at all.”

“Well,” Scar was painfully undeterred, voice light, “I think you’re going through something. I think you and Grian have been very close for a long while, and you’ve endured so much together, it makes sense that you’re used to sharing everything, yeah?”

“But I- I don’t even want to hear it half the time. I don’t really care about the asshole that always cuts the lines in the grocery store and I hated it when he’d go on and on about you- I hated it! I didn’t want to hear it! But I still- I can’t stand it that he’s just not telling me anymore! He’s finding other people, and that’s good, it’s so good, and I just can’t be happy.”

Scar considered him carefully, taking his time. “I mean, things are changing, aren’t they? Doesn’t matter if the change is for the better or for the worse most of the time. It fucking sucks. This is painfully trivial, I know, but I throw a fit whenever they go and update my uniform. Either to change up the design or remake it with stronger, safer materials; it drives me completely crazy! I hate it, and then I get used to it, and sometimes even then I’m not super happy, but it’s not always bad. Might even be a good thing, even if you don’t know it yet. Maybe you do know it’s for the best, but you still gotta throw a little fit because AUGH this SUCKS. Y’know? You’re not an asshole, Cub, you’re just human. Funny thing about humans too, is that they can love more than one person at the same time. Again, it’s not a sin.”

“Feels bad,” Cub mumbled, unable to say much else.

Scar laughed, and no matter how hard Cub tried to find it, there was no hollowness there, “Well I hope at least I can make you feel a little bit better about one of those things. I have a plan. I am not so easily deterred, Sir Cub!”

“If you have to tell me you have a plan before you say the actual thing, I feel like you’re about to say something stupid and are trying to brace me for it.”

“I..” Scar drew the word out, looking equal parts mischievous as he looked excited, “am going to court Grian.”

Cub jolted up, so surprised he let go of his arms, “You’re going to what?”

“I think you heard me. Listen, G and I had a rocky start, everyone could see it! He didn’t like me because I liked you, and I didn’t like him because he’s an asshole-”

“Grian hasn’t liked you for years, his behavior was not just-”

Scar ignored Cub entirely, continuing on like he hadn’t heard, “But in the end, we’re really only after the same thing, yeah? Now, now, we’re both adults I’d say, so why are we fighting, really? I’m asking, why fight?” Cub could have answered that question in a dozen different ways Scar would have hated, so instead he kept his mouth shut, “So I’m saying, if everyone wants a piece of you,” Scar draped his arms across Cub’s shoulders, smirking as he leaned in close and blood rushed to Cub’s cheeks, “Why not share?”

Cub longed to retort, bite back, anything to offset the amount of flustered he was feeling right now, but he couldn’t find the words, only managing a quiet, “Okay,” though Scar was far from done, gazing at him through narrowed eyes.

“Close your eyes, imagine it for me,” the words were barely whispered, and there was no reason to be any louder, “All of us, sitting here. Grian’s behind you, holding you loosely at your waist, his legs around yours. I’m up front, back against your chest, just like this,” Scar moved, and Cub did not stop him, allowing the picture to be painted. Scar let him breathe for a moment, then continued, “We’re all relaxed, watching a movie maybe, but none of us are really watching. We’re tired, separately, from work, just enjoying each other’s company. The feeling of our breathing together is all that really matters.” Scar leaned back, letting his weight fall entirely on Cub’s chest.

“Grian lets his head fall against your neck, not on purpose really, that’s just what’s closest, and he kisses you gently, hardly any thought behind it. Just a reminder that he’s there, as if you’d forget. I’d feel his breath, and I’d look back, y’know, to see what the fuss is about, and I’d see Grian there brainless and adorable and I’d turn around and bite him right on the nose and just instantly everything is thrown into chaos. Grian starts squawking and flailing but his ass isn’t going anywhere, not when he’s being crushed into the sofa by the weight of two big guys! I turn around,” Scar stops for a moment to do so, chest to chest with Cub’s soft chuckling, “And I’m just teasing him because he can’t get out, and he can’t attack me without hurting you too, so he’s just thrashing uselessly which is hilarious until you start getting annoyed, and without even a word of warning you start getting up, and suddenly we’re both panicking because we don’t want that! We were so comfortable! But you don’t give a fuck, because you’re heartless and cold and eat rocks so you leave and then we’re sad.”

“I eat rocks?”

“Well since you asked so nicely for a better ending, I suppose I can give you one,” Scar sighed, and Cub rolled his eyes, saying nothing, “You start to get up, but after Grian and I’s mutual panic, we work together to convince you to stay, and we try not to fight for the rest of the night. If we do start something though, we make sure you’re sufficiently trapped, Grian straddling you with his legs and me laying right on top of you so we can battle it out in peace.”

“What I’m learning from this is that I should never be in the middle.” Cub paused, considering this, “Well, I guess I could if you were behind me and Grian was in front. No legs, and it doesn't matter how much he flaps, Grian’s not weighing anyone down.”

“You’d be surprised! CuteGuy’s got a pretty fierce pin if he really wants to hold you down. Mostly because he’s sharp everywhere though. Listen, Grian is strong, but I overpower him anyday. Hey- does this mean you’re on board?”

Cub laughed softly, enjoying the proximity of Scar’s sudden excitement, “If you can manage this, then please, be my guest to try.”

“Oh I will. I will. HotGuy can pull anyone.”

Cub barked a short laugh, shaking his head, “You better not tell him that. He’ll take it as a challenge.”

“I won’t, but seriously, I know that Grian has the capacity to like me. He liked Micah! Came right onto him the first time they met, though, I am willing to believe Grian might’ve attached himself to anyone that night. How lucky! It’s such a small world, isn’t it? Regardless, I am so his type. I can tell. Oh, I might have told him actually he wasn’t my type. Hm. Hopefully he doesn’t remember that. Like- it’s not that I don’t think he’s cute-”

“Oh my god, Scar.”

“Don’t say it! I would totally one hundred percent be down to clown with Grian, alright? He’s so much better when he’s not being a dick to me! I really do like him! Like- like like, I don’t know yet, but dating isn’t about loving someone right away, it’s about fucking around and finding out, and boy do I want to find out. This is going to be so fun.”

“You say that like you won’t crumble if you get rejected.”

“I won’t get rejected.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Hey! You know when I said Grian liked Micah, I meant it. He was totally into him.”

Cub snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m aware.”

“Wait- really? Did he talk about me? What did he say?”

“You are terrible. Seriously.”

“Is it a crime to want to know? Come on, please? This is relevant, important information! Especially after the whole fiasco that was tonight, goodness. This might be a bit of a setback, but that’s alright. We’ll talk about it. But if I know what Grian likes about Micah, then we can get this show on the road even faster! What do you say?”

“I don’t think anything I say to you will be helpful.”

“Well- whatever! Okay, maybe I just want to know for the sake of it, is that what you want to hear? Grian spends 90% of his time actively trying to make my life harder, can you blame me?”

“I guess you’re right,” Cub mused, restituating a bit on the couch so he could lay down, Scar settled nicely on top, “Well, I think he liked to keep Micah and I a bit separate, at least to me, so he didn’t talk about you too much. But he really appreciated the way you brought him in, like, probably more than you’ll ever know. And he didn’t say that to me, but I know Grian, I can tell. He gets a certain way. He’ll never forget that, never. In general, he liked you because you were kind. Because you didn’t run at the first sign of trouble, because Grian is trouble, and he knows it, so he’s pretty wary of people that.. I don’t know. He likes to test people, try and make them uncomfortable, see if they flinch and pull away. And he didn’t have to test you, you saw him right at his worst and treated him like a human being, even after knowing about the CuteGuy stuff. That’s all he really wants. To be treated normally. Fairly. Obviously you checked all his boxes. It helped that Micah was fucking weird with all that fae stuff too, Grian can’t really get behind anyone who isn’t at least a little crazy. It makes him feel comfortable.”

Scar nodded, looking very much like he wanted to know more and doing an extremely poor job of hiding it. Cub chuckled to himself.

“I know you probably want specifics, but I don’t have many. You were right though, he was pretty into you. Mentioned trying to pursue something romantically, just see where it goes. That’s a little awkward now of course, and probably the main reason he was so upset. I mean.. I don’t know, I wasn’t there, but I’m sure that freaked him out big time. And I don’t blame him.”

“I.. didn’t know that. I mean. I knew he found me attractive, but I didn’t consider he was romantically interested- ah, you know, this makes a little more sense. I really wasn’t trying to spur anything on though, I mean, obviously Micah couldn’t just go around dating people.”

Cub raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. “Really. You did nothing to spur him on.”

“Wh- No?? Why are you talking like that?”

“Scar.”

“Cub!”

Cub sighed deeply through his nose, unsure if he should be frustrated or just exasperated. “Scar, I believe in quite some detail you told Grian exactly how you’d take his virginity. Tomorrow night, actually. You don’t see any way that could have sparked anything.”

Scar sat up, an alarming amount of surprise coloring his face, “I- it was not like that.”

“Well to Grian it was very much ‘like that,’ and I didn’t get many details, but the way he described it, it sounded a bit to me that it was ‘like that’ as well. Dumbass.”

“Hey! Okay, so maybe I went into a bit of detail, but that was only because I was trying to show him that Micah isn’t- he’s not good for first times, okay? I gotta keep the prosthetics on, and it’s pretty obvious up close, and even touching them it’s obvious it’s not real skin. I also told him very explicitly I was a last resort! I did not want to fuck Grian! He was just so damn pent up and I was getting so pissed at him I had to do something!”

“Are. You’re serious. That’s why you were going to take him out.”

“Yes! Yes, and he knew it! I told him! If he chose to ignore me then that is sufficiently a him problem. He was bugging the shit out of me! Though, what he ended up doing instead was probably a lot better. Y’know, talking about your feelings and stuff. You don’t think he’s upset about our Thursday plans not happening anymore, do you?”

“I very much do think he is!”

Scar let his head fall on Cub’s chest. “Fuuuuuck.”

“I would say so.”

“I told him. I told him though. I told him it wasn’t glamorous. Why did he go and glamorize it. That’s not. He might have hated it. I don’t even love it.”

“You are an idiot.”

“You think he’d still be down for tomorrow though? I mean, I could give him a much better time now that he knows who I am. I- You’re looking at me like I’m saying something stupid right now.”

“I can not believe you.”

“I’ll shelve that then.” Scar yawned, nestling his head close to Cub’s chin. Cub sighed. It was getting pretty late, wasn’t it. And he was tired too, his eyes- damn, he forgot how that felt. It really had been too long since he’d had a good cry.. Alright.

“Let’s get to bed, then. You can stay, but I’m waking you up when I go to work in the morning. You need to be out of here before Grian comes home, and I mean it, if for some ungodly reason he comes home before 8 AM, you’re going out the window.”

“I can swing that.” Scar settled, then seemed alarmed when Cub began to move, “Wait- where are you going?”

“To bed.”

“Not- you don’t just want to sleep here?”

“No. I need to charge my phone. And piss. And you’re too warm. And I want my pillow. And this will get uncomfortable in like fifteen minutes.” Cub continued to sit up, Scar whining as he slid off.

“You’re mean. And hard to please.”

“There isn’t a single person that can compete with my bed,” Cub got to his feet, leaving Scar to mope face down on the couch. Walking away, he paused briefly, glancing at the floor where Scar’s prosthetics had been discarded. “Want me to get your legs?”

“Yes please,” Scar grumbled into the couch, and Cub smiled, bending over to collect them.

“Goodnight then. If you ever decide to join me, will you shut the light off on your way out?” At an inaudible grunt from Scar, which Cub assumed to be a yes, he left the room, bringing Scar’s legs with him.

[wol-fica]

-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤 ℙ𝕋𝟠-

pairings - wednesdayaddams x fem!elemental!reader

summary - you had feelings, big feelings, and they get the best of your logical decisions

warnings - kissing, fluff, happy wednesday <333333

an - this was really amazing and cute omg

—————————

Wednesday Addams.

Her name was a statement in and of itself, an alluring force to be reckoned with. She was known to be an emotionless, dull, gruesome individual who didn’t give two shits about anyone or anything.

You met her in sophomore year at Nevermore, in botany class. Sitting two seats to the right and one seat up, she was definitely something— her posture straight as a board and her stare just as hard; she had what your dad called “omph”.

Now that “omph” she had, caught your attention; Wednesday was incredibly attractive, her features being almost perfect in your eyes. Someone had told you once that love at first sight wasn’t real, just a fairy tale told by your parents to make you feel better about your future; but when you saw Wednesday, that whole perspective changed.

She made your heart run a mile a minute, your breath hitch at her presence, your stomach fluttering with butterflies as she spoke; she had you wrapped around her finger and she didn’t even know it.

Or did she?

See, Wednesday was someone who hated love, the whole concept of it. Her parents sappiness and public affections had pushed down all of the complexities she could have acquired; instead she is an empty, black canvas.

But for some odd reason, that canvas was changing. Bursts of color had begun to appear, in rapid strokes that splattered around the whole expanse; a painting was being formed within the depths of her heart.

Wednesday was no fool to attraction, she was aware of the feeling. There have been many guys and girls who have caught her eye for a second longer than most, but she’s never been interested in pursuing them. Dating seemed like a waste of time to her, and she could never see herself as being someone else’s girlfriend.

That was until she met you.

You.

You were quite the ubiquitous person, always awake and present whenever anyone spoke to you. A smile was almost always etched onto your face, small dimples could be seen on your cheeks when you grinned.

Wednesday liked your smile, it was a refreshing sight for her. She sometimes would catch herself just gazing at you, her black eyes droopy and hazy as she soaked in the sunny glow you produced; you were her muse.

Soon she realized she was hooked, infatuated with your presence. Your poise and posture was well kept and strong, something that got Wednesday’s heart to stutter, and you were very very serious about your hygiene, in which got her feeling all woozy.

It was the simple things that got her interested, and it was when she decided to sit with you at lunch that you both started into a talking phase.

Your personalities fitted together like puzzle pieces, slotted to finish the final portrait. Gift giving was a love languages you had, one Wednesday had to get used to, and you abused it SO much when you were beginning to be with her.

You had once bought her a pitch-black obsidian handled knife with your initials carved into the side. The blade was made from steel and bone, sharped to be able to slice through flesh like it was butter.

Wednesday asked you to be her girlfriend the next day.

Your relationship skyrocketed to heaven, clouds surrounding you both in your little grey bubble of love. The two of you were so compatible that even Enid was slightly concerned on why you two had never met before.

“Seriously Y/N, it’s so crazy how soft she is with you.” She said one day over breakfast as you watched Wednesday go to get you your favorite food, “I’m slightly worried that you hypnotized her.”

You laughed, shaking your head while turning back to Enid, “I think she is just different with me than with you.”

Enid scoffed, sipping her orange juice daintily as she rolled her eyes. A large, raw steak sat in front of her, untouched and awaiting to be devoured.

“Does she talk murder tactics with you?” She asked, picking up her fork and knife to cut the meat, “Has she told you about shampoo torture?”

“Yep, and the wonderful ways to attack all human nerves at one time.” You replied, smirked at Enid as you both said the answer.

“Lava Bath.”

You both giggled, your voices carrying to where Wednesday stood in the breakfast line. The sound of your laughter filled her ears, and she couldn’t help but quirk a small smile. She loved your voice; the light, summer-y sound was soothing to her.

After grabbing a plate of food, some utensils, and a glass of chocolate milk, she made her way back to where you and Enid. were seated. Her black eyes were trained onto you, carefully watching your every move.

“Oh thank you!” You said happily, taking the plate from her.

“You’re welcome.” She replied whilst placing your drink and utensils down, “I never knew a person could be addicted to french toast, of all dishes.”

You chuckled, bumping your shoulder against hers after she sat down next to you. Her head tilted at the gesture, but she stayed silent and basked in the calmness of your conversation with Enid about how you can control the elements.

“So is it like a feeling? Or a will?”

“No,” You started, sipping your chocolate milk, “It’s more like an understanding between each creature.”

Wednesday buried her nose into her arm, exhaustion clouding over her as she attempted to stay awake. Due to a boring yet long study session, she did not get her usually 6 hours of sleep and instead took a 30 minute nap and stayed up for the rest of the night.

A warm hand rested on her back, rubbing comforting circles into her spine. She turned her head slightly to see you resting your hand on her, your eyes still on Enid as she spoke.

A rush of emotion hit her, a warm, bubbly feeling erupting in her stomach at your affectionate touch. Her face felt hot, and suddenly she had the urge to kiss you.

You both had previously talked about being more intimate with each other, but Wednesday’s stubbornness and her ill-efficient ways of conveying her thoughts on physical affection caused you to never got to try it out.

You had mentioned once that you were interested in slowly growing to that, and would be open to taking as much time as possible until she was ready for that kind of PDA.

The most Wednesday has ever done with you was hold hands, one hug after her second Poe Cup win, and she has permitted a few kisses on her cheek when you were feeling extra loving on valentine’s day.

“And that’s how I can start and stop the rain!” You said confidently, smiling at Enid while still rubbing Wednesday’s back.

“That’s impressive.” Wednesday commented from her slouched position, a small-dazed smile on her face as she stared at you, “You are stunning, cara mía.”

Your face went pink, your lip slipping in between your teeth as you blushed. Enid giggled, putting her hand over her mouth as she laughed at your flustered state.

“Shut up wolf.” You muttered, looking at the ground.

A sudden confidence came over Wednesday, and the next thing she knew, she was grabbing your face and pulling you into a kiss.

Your lips pressed into hers, soft-plump burgundy against slightly chapped and velvety pink. She pulled you closer, one hand on your waist while the other cupped your face. Eventually, your own hands slid to her cheeks to hold her, to touch her in some way.

She was addicting.

Her taste, her smell, her touch, her body language, the way she was so soft with you, the way she chased your lips after you took a breath; it was heavenly.

“Nes..” You mumbled, your voice muffling by Wednesday kissing you yet again.

You were aware of Enid, and you felt bad as this had to be so weird for her, but your focus was on your girlfriends tasteful kissing skills.

“As much as I love…well…love…this is extremely awkward.”

Wednesday pulled back from you, keeping her hands on your waist as she turned to glare at Enid for interrupting her.

“We were being intimate, leave us be.” She stated, rubbing her thumb on your hip.

“It was intense.” Enid sneered, gulping down the last of her orange juice as you blushed.

Wednesday rolled her eyes and pulled you into her lap as you yelped in surprise, your face going even redder than before. Her arms went around your waist to hold you tighter, her chin resting on your shoulder whilst closing her eyes in exhaustion.

“Sleepy?” You asked her, your hand sliding behind her neck to caress her skin.

She hummed, nodding and pulling you closer so she could lean into you. Enid snorted from across the table which made you turn to catch her taking a photo.

You eyed her with a warning look, raising an eyebrow and twitching your head towards Wednesday as if to say, ‘She will skin you alive if she sees that.’

Enid rolled her eyes but smiled, quickly sending you the picture before getting up to throw her food away and probably bother Yoko. You signed, watching her go before sinking back into Wednesday’s surprisingly comfortable hold.

You were with the girl of your dreams.

————————

*sobbing*

taglist: @crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @rainbow-love4ever  @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @dreaming-of-u @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @captainbeat @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg

[jeonbunnie]

the entertainer ✧ 2

✧ reader x seokjin, ft. yoongi

✧ summary: In need of some real cash, you take a job as a dancer in your city's most notorious strip club. You’re making your own hours, raking in a good amount of money, and feeling sexy while you do it. Everything was fine as long as you kept your work life and your personal life separated.But when a handsome stranger shows up one night you find it difficult to maintain the balance.Jin is a gorgeous, rich, and–taken man. But one look from you on that stage has him spellbound. He knows he’s got no business coming back to the club, but there’s something about you that makes him want more than just a private dance. . .

✧ genre: strangers to lovers; angst; smut; fluff; 18+

✧ content/warnings: 18+, rich/ceo!jin, fuckboy!yoongi, stripper!reader, college!au, songfic, pov shifts, based on summer walker’s last days of summer album, loosely inspired by pretty woman, slow burn, smut, pining, mutual pining, love triangle, romantic suspense, cursing, dirty talk, explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, aftercare

✧ a/n: this is an old fic I wrote under my prev pseudo @jeonsweetheart that I put on hiatus as noted in this lovely banner by @kookdiaries. however recently I’ve found some love for my old pieces so I decided to try writing it again. If by some miracle your someone who’s read this story in the past lol I’ve edited some details to fit the narrative better but other than that, I’m continuing with the story as is! this isn’t beta’d and since I haven’t done a series in a while I’m actually pretty nervous reposting this so if u like it pls stop by my inbox or drop a comment I’d really appreciate it :)

✧ soundtrack: girls need love—summer walker

✧ word count: 9k

♪ So what’s a girl to do when she needs loving too... ♪

| <- prev | next -> | masterlist♡ | ao3

[2:06am] Yoongi: You up?

You squinted at your phone, reading the message in the dark as the blue light shined on your face. You liked Yoongi; you really did. But more and more, you noticed he’d formed a habit of messaging you late at night. Only at night.

He’d brush you off when you attempted to hang out with him outside of work in the daytime, then later hit you up when it was convenient for him. You were starting to hate him for that and yourself because you let him get away with it.

Well, not tonight, you told yourself. I’m not gonna play that game. You put your phone on DO NOT DISTURB, returned it to your nightstand, and buried yourself in your sheets. You lay in bed feeling empty inside; you liked Yoongi, but you didn’t like this. Feeling so desperate for him all the time it was stupid and embarrassing.

Is that what love is?

You didn’t know. You’d never been in love before. Not really. Sure, you had crushes, mild infatuations, and situationships galore, but nothing like this—not this dull ache in your chest. If what you felt for Yoongi was love, then as much as you hated to admit it, maybe it was unrequited, and Hyuna was right.

Love had to be better than going to bed alone, feeling so cold and numb even though you were covered by a blanket.

You hoped she was wrong.

You wanted to be more to him than a few stolen kisses in the night and a body to hold. But as much as you wanted him to take your relationship seriously—to take you seriously—you could never risk asking him for more. To ask would be to give him all the power, and Yoongi already had enough control over you.

It wasn’t always like this. There used to be a time when you had all Yoongi’s attention.

You were so nervous coming into the club the first time. Back then, you still weren’t fully comfortable with stripping. But you had just started school, and though you already had a job bussing tables, you were still so very broke, and those bills wouldn’t pay themselves.

So you sucked up all your inhibitions and made yourself audition. You don’t know how Yoongi saw you in that crowded room. There were so many girls, certainly some more eye-catching than you, but he managed to catch you in the corner having a minor panic attack.

“You need to breathe.”

“Huh? Sorry, did you say something?” You blinked, taking in the appearance of the handsome stranger before you. On any other day, his intense eyes would have made you swoon. But that day, you were too caught up in your thoughts, worried about the worst possible outcomes of your getting up on stage. It’d been a long time since you danced for anyone besides yourself, and somehow, you were convinced you would mess up. Trip over your heels or forget a part of your routine.

“I said, you need to breathe. You look like you’re holding your breath. Are you that nervous?”

Yes, yes, you were.

You smiled weakly at him, clutching the water bottle in your hands. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I don’t think I can do this.” Your eyes flitted towards the exit.

“You’re here now, so you might as well go through with the audition. Don’t stop halfway.”

God, you thought, were you that obvious?

“What if I fuck it up?”

“Then you fuck it up. But that’d still be better than not trying at all.”

You remember being shocked at his response. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Yeah, so what if you fucked it up? You didn’t know these people. Worse scenario, you wouldn’t get in and leave a little embarrassed, but no one would know about your private failure except for this handsome stranger.

You must have taken too long to respond because shortly after his blunt advice, Yoongi apologized.

“Sorry. . . I’m not that good at pep talks.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know why, but that actually helped.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. Just a bit. Just enough for you to know your response surprised him. “Uh, good. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” you said. Then thoughtfully, you wondered out loud, “Why are you being so nice to me??”

You couldn’t believe some guy was talking you down from your anxiety attack in a strip club. What was his agenda? Did he expect something from you?

“Why not?”

You opened your mouth to question that logic when you heard your name called. Your stage name. It was your turn to audition next. You glanced up at the stage before you, the black velvet curtain in the background, soft pink and white lights setting the mood, guiding your eyes to the catwalk in the middle. And on that center stage, those same lights highlight the silver pole in the middle.

Just looking at it made you gulp. Even though you were no stranger to the spotlight, having been a dancer, this new venture was awfully intimidating.

Strange enough, you found yourself looking towards the kind stranger—for what? Words of encouragement?—but he offered you none. Just a lazy smile as he nodded towards the stage for you to dance.

Truly, you don’t remember how the audition went. You were too nervous, too full of adrenaline to recall if you did well and if your movements were graceful and sexy rather than stiff and awkward. What you remembered was the conversation that followed, what you could make out of the hushed voices huddled together to decide your fate.

You strained to hear them over the thump of your racing heartbeat.

The first man to speak still seemed to be in thought as he stated his opinion. “I’m undecided. She doesn’t really seem like the type. . . I can’t imagine her sticking around for long.” He turned to the other judges in the room, “What do you think?”

“I agree with Namjoon,” said a man so pretty you could have mistaken him for a girl. “Technically, she’s a great dancer, but she’s lacking major confidence.”

Finally, the woman spoke. “Well, I like her. I think she’s got a lot of potential. Everyone grows into it anyway; give her a chance.”

Even with that vote of confidence, the group leader still seemed unsure. He turned to look over his shoulder to the man in the audience you spoke to earlier, the one you gave your whole performance to as you swayed on stage under sultry lights. “What do you think, Yoongi?”

At last, you had a name to put to the face of the handsome stranger. His dark eyes held no hint or indication that he favored you, and if his body language was anything to go off of, you were sure it wouldn’t be a good thing based on the way he slouched in his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

But then he spoke, a slow grin pulling over his face that put all your nerves at ease.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.”

That was how it started. At the time, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hyuna were strangers to you. You had no idea the club owner and their two most favored dancers were in the room with you deciding your fate. Yoongi gave them his vote of confidence and sealed your fate. You started work later that week.

After you were hired, you were always aware of his presence at the club. You could feel his gaze follow you on stage, at the bar, always that cool, calm smolder. And the attraction was mutual. You constantly watched him in the booth, amused by his natural gift for music. There are so many shows you put on just for him. It was a crush, simple as that. You wanted him, but you were much too shy to say it. Thankfully, Yoongi was brave enough for both of you, asking you out after your first week.

The date was a pleasant surprise. Despite Yoongi’s introverted nature, he actually took you to dinner and made conversation at first, none of that Netflix and chill bullshit. His calm, quiet demeanor was infinitely attractive to you, and you found yourself mooning over him the whole night.

You hadn’t planned on fucking him, honestly.

But it’d been a while since anyone had touched you like that. So when Yoongi’s gravelly voice whispered in your ear, asking you to tell him how you wanted it, how you needed it, as his fingers rubbed sweet circles on your clit, all you could do was whine and tell him how badly your body wanted him with a desperation that couldn’t wait. You needed him right then and there.

The next morning, you woke up and swore it wouldn’t happen again.

But, of course, it did.

Again, and again, and again.

So here you were, stuck inside a situationship you didn’t want but one you always succumbed to. And tonight seemed no different.

Closing your eyes, you will yourself to go back to sleep, and you do for a little while. Until a pounding sound woke you up. You barely registered it as a knock the first time, but after two or three times, you dragged yourself out of bed and to your front door.

You had half a mind to reach for the bat you keep in the hall closet, just in case. It was an ungodly hour, and you lived alone (times like these made you regret not getting a roommate). You checked the peephole first, then sighed. Irritation rose in your blood.

You unlocked the door and snatched it open. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You were giving me puppy dog eyes all night. You really think I wouldn’t show up?”

You can’t tell if the anger surfacing is from your lack of sleep, the scare, or the fact that Yoongi is standing on your doorstep. It’s probably a combination of all three. “It’s two in the morning,” you said pointedly.

Yoongi isn’t phased by your grumbly voice or sharp tone. He shrugs and moves to step inside, but you block his path.

“Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”

“You’re mad.”

He didn’t say it like a question, but you could tell by the lilt in his voice he seemed surprised.

You scowled into the dark. “You can’t do this, Yoongi. Pick and choose when to show up.” Pick and choose when he could be in your life, when you mattered to him.

You motioned to close the door, but Yoongi stopped you, sticking his hand in the frame. And then he did something that made you pause. He reached for you, placed his hands on your waist, and pulled you close.

Shit.

Yoongi pulled you in like the tide. It was always eb and flow with him. When he did things like that. . . You couldn’t help but give in. You were weak for this, for his touch, for the moments when he wanted you. So when Yoongi swept in close, body heat coming off him in waves as his hand reached up to cup the back of your neck, you leaned into the embrace.

“I know I’m late,” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth. He nuzzled into your neck, sneaking kisses on your collarbones.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Yoongi. . .” You started, coming to your senses for just a minute. But before you could protest, he interrupted you with a kiss. Any resolve you might have had left your body once his lips found yours. It was so easy to lose yourself in Yoongi. His kisses were fire, all-consuming, wild. You could never get enough. Yoongi licked into your mouth, and you moaned, stumbling back into your apartment.

And just like that, you crumbled.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, shrugging off his clothes, his mouth never leaving yours. You felt your knees hit the back of something soft and sat down on your bed while Yoongi kissed you stupid. You let him touch and, tease and pull you apart. Till the pleasure overtakes the pain in your chest. And it’s good, so good. Good enough to make you forget why you were even upset in the first place.

He inches you forward with kisses and bites—marks you know will leave a hickey—till your back hits the headboard, momentarily breaking you from his spell.

“Wait,” you said, eyelids fluttering open.

But Yoongi’s hands are already sliding up your nightgown, leaving wet kisses down your thighs.

And then there was the solid feel of his hands spreading your legs apart, lips dangerously close to where you needed him most.

He hooked a finger under the waistband of your lace underwear, pulling the material off.

“You were saying?” said Yoongi, and you shivered as his breath fanned over you.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember. You lost every coherent thought your brain was trying to form. All you could think about was his touch, his thumb on your clit, the feel of him stroking you gently. You were so, so wet.

And he knew it. You could feel Yoongi smile against you as he rested his cheek on your thigh, long slender fingers working over you until all you could do was tilt your head back and sigh.

“I love playing with your pussy.” He whispered, voice just above a purr.

His words made you throb. “Yoongi,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your tongue.

“What?” He answered, voice smug, “What do you need?”

Too embarrassed to say the words out loud, to admit just how badly you need him, you reached down, sliding a hand into his hair, tugging at his locks to pull him right where you wanted him.

Yoongi chuckled. “So impatient.” But he didn’t move his head from between your thighs. Instead, he leaned forward, licking a stripe up your center before rolling his tongue around your clit.

You couldn’t help but lean into the action, hips tilting up to catch the sensation. But Yoongi was having none of that. He brought up a hand, pushing one palm against your belly to press you down into the mattress, while the other caressed your thigh.

“Behave,” he said, the dominance radiating through his voice. It’s the only warning you get before he nips at your clit, drawing out a sharp cry from you, the pain mixing with pleasure. Before you could even respond, Yoongi lapped at your folds, tongue making a mess out of you.

You let yourself get lost in the sensation as Yoongi buried his head between your thighs, devouring your whole. You’re too far gone to stop the whimper that spilled from your mouth. All you felt were stars as his tongue curled around your clit, languid licks driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Yoongi knew your body like it was his. He memorized every shiver and shudder, every move that turned you on. He could hear your heavy breath, feel the tremble in your thigh, and know exactly how to push you over the edge.

So he does it, sliding two fingers deep inside you to press against the spot that made your body taunt with pleasure. The pressure of his palm against your belly, his hot tongue flicking against you, his fingers curling deep—it’s overwhelming.

Chest heaving, you called out his name, a plea and a warning all at once. You were so, so close.

Cum for me,” Yoongi rasped, voice vibrating against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall.

You climax, pleasure rushing all through your body, blanking your mind, curling your toes. Your hands fist in Yoongi’s hair, once again tugging at his locks. Only this time, Yoongi didn’t stop your pleasure but doubled it, replacing his fingers with his tongue to delve inside and taste every drop of your release, stopping only when your thighs shake, the sensation becomes too much.

When you finally came back down and caught your breath, Yoongi lifted his head and met your gaze with a smirk. “Did I make it up to you yet? Or should I apologize again?”

Though you’d been satisfied, Yoongi ‘apologized’ twice more for good measure before laying you on your side and pulling you against his chest. Cold as he appeared, Yoongi defied all fuckboy logic and was quite fond of aftercare and cuddles. Thirty minutes later, he still laid beside you in bed, naked body flush against your skin.

These were the moments you treasured the most. Pos-coital bliss, where you could pretend, if only for one second, that you were something more than strangers who sometimes shared beds.

But they also made you the most confused. Because, here in his arms, it felt like more than friends, more than sex. But did he think that, too?

So many nights you spent just like this, trying to convince yourself that this was good enough, that you were comfortable living in this in-between state. But that was then, and this is now, and it’s not enough.

And now you know it never was.

“Yoongi?” you said, turning in his arms so you’re face to face.

“What,” he grumbled back, voice thick with sleep. It’s a sound you’re all too familiar with, one you’ve let lull you into a stupor time and time again. He leaned down to kiss you, but you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him away.

“What are we doing?”

It’s a question you’d always been too afraid to ask, but now that it was the only thing on your mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting it out.

Yoongi scoffed. “Sleeping?” He nipped at the sweet spot on your neck, “Unless you’re up for another round.”

“Yoongi, I need—”

He licked a stripe up your neck, scrambling your thoughts. “What? What do you need?” He said, voice husky. It’s enough to make you moan but not enough to distract you from your racing thoughts.

I need to know what this is. I need to know where I stand with you. I need—

“More than this.”

“I’m serious. What are we doing? What. . . what are we?”

You said it. The thing you’re not supposed to say, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

You shouldn’t—it’s not as if it’s some forbidden phrase, but the words weighed heavy in the air. You’re going places you’ve never gone with Yoongi, putting all your cards on the table. It’s risky. No one wants to be the one who cares most, but you do. And you know you’re not supposed to. You know you can’t say that you want more. That you want love. That somehow, this unspoken arrangement isn’t what you needed any more. You needed to know if he felt anything for you in return, and you needed to know now.

It was quiet for a minute before you finally said, unable to stop yourself from masking the vulnerability in your voice: “I like you.”

“I like you too,” said Yoongi. There was no weight to his words. He said it so quickly, so easily, that it stunned you.

Maybe a little too easy.

“So what does that mean for us?” you said, sitting up in bed, more awake now than ever.

Yoongi froze. “Us?”

“Yeah, is there an us?” You can’t seem to say what you really mean; the words hover around the truth of your real desires, that you want a relationship. It’s obvious, isn’t it? “Because if it’s not, if you can’t see this being real, then I don’t think I can do this anymore. I might take a break.”

He has to know what you mean. . .Do you really have to spell it out?

But apparently, you do because Yoongi glosses over the true meaning of your words entirely. “Can we talk about this in the morning? I’m tired. I don’t want to fight right now.”

He reached for you, his hand slipping up your thigh and rubbing small circles with his thumb. The touch is soothing, but your mind is still whirling. Still trying to connect the dots from what he said, what it meant, and what you heard.

“I don’t want to fight right now.”

Why does the question of choosing me have to be a fight?

It’s this thought that makes it all clear. It’s not a fight. Yoongi knows the question you’re asking. He just doesn’t want to answer.

You opened your mouth to say as much, but you’re tired, too. Tired of this bullshit. The ease with which Yoongi dismissed your needs time and time again. You don’t have the strength to plead your case, and you shouldn’t have to, really.

You laid back down with you back towards him, nodding your head in agreement even as you shoved your disappointment down deep.

As if sensing your frustration, Yoongi wordlessly consoled you. He trailed kisses down your body. Each kiss, a tiny apology. At the top of your head. Sorry. By your jaw, sorry. The dip between your neck and shoulder. Sorry.

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Despite yourself, you lean into the embrace. Yoongi didn’t always have the right words to say, but he always had the right touch. Still, a part of you starved for a deeper affection, a part that even Yoongi’s touch couldn’t reach.

. . .

In the morning, you woke up to the shining sun, aching limbs, and an empty bed.

Yoongi wasn’t beside you, and the loss of his touch stirred you from your sleep as the loneliness crept back in. You know there’s no note for you to or an explanation to where he’s gone, so you don’t bother checking. Instead, you roll over to your side, clumsily fumbling around for your phone on the nightstand.

You open your eyes with a sigh, blurred vision trying to make sense of the digits on the screen reading 9:02am when everything clicks into space with startling clarity. Your entrepreneurship class started at nine.

Shit.

“Late! I’m late!” You shouted, hopping out of bed and throwing on a T-shirt and jeans. No doubt, you look a mess, but you didn’t have time to worry about appearance. You could not be late; this course was one of the hardest in your major. You couldn’t afford to miss any class and pass, and if you flunked out, you’d have to wait another two semesters before it’d be offered again. That was time you simply didn’t have. It’d put you way behind your schedule to graduate on time with your degree, and you couldn’t afford to waste more time in school.

It’s the desperation that has you rushing down the hall to your classroom, tired and out of breath after sprinting from the parking garage into the building. You’re flustered, sweaty, and way too embarrassed to make eye contact with your professor as you enter the room, only bowing your head in apologies as your eyes scan the room for a seat.

Mia flagged you down in the corner of the room, and you slid into the desk next toher. “I saved you a spot,” she whispered, careful not to raise her voice above the steady drone of your professor’s lecture about starting a new business.

“Thanks,” you said, eternally grateful to have made a friend in this class. Mia was a school friend who, through late-night study sessions and lunch breaks, was slowly becoming a real friend, too. If only you didn’t have more time on campus, you’d probably be best friends by now, but between working for two jobs and school, your schedule was always full.

“We’ll dive deeper into identifying your target customer base next week.”

When the lecture ended thirty minutes later, you pulled Mia outside the classroom. “Hey, thanks again for saving me a seat. Can I borrow your notes from earlier?”

“Of course.” You thanked her as she pulled out her notebook and handed it over.

“No problem. Where were you this morning? I thought we were supposed to catch up before class.”

You forgot about that. “Uh, sorry. I overslept. Rain check?”

“Sure. I have a class until 3, but after that I’m free. You wanna grab dinner tonight?”

You wince, knowing you’ll have to turn her down once again. “I’d love that. I really would, but I’ve gotta—“

“Work, right. Of course.”

“Sorry, Mia.”

“Look. I get it you’re busy. But I feel like I never see you these days.”

You can’t help but feel guilty knowing she’s right. You have been all over the place this semester. Your social life was definitely suffering for it.

“And when I do, you see, you’re basically running around campus looking like a total mess.”

Ouch. When she puts it like that. . .

Mia must have read the hurt look on your face cuz she quickly backtracked. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. I’m just worried about you, ya know?”

You know she’s right, but it still made you feel like crap to hear your friend chide you like this. You know you’ve been distant, but were you really that bad?

“And I miss my friend,” she added, squeezing your hand.

At this admission, you relax, understanding where she’s coming from. “I know. Today’s not great, but I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?” You looked down at your phone, checking the time. Now you were going to be late for your next class, too. “I gotta run, but we’ll talk later?”

Mia nodded. You hugged her before hauling ass across campus to your next class.

. . .

“Do you know what an embarrassment you are to this family?”

Seokjin sighed, slumping in his seat. His father slapped the newspaper onto his desk so hard it’s a wonder the glass didn’t crack under his palm. It took all of his strength not to wince at the title:

Billionaire Playboy Caught At An Infamous Strip Club.

“I didn’t choose to go there. Taehyung and Namjoon took me out—“

“I don’t care what Taehyung and Namjoon do. They can destroy their families’ reputations if they want to. But you are my son. I won’t have you tarnishing my reputation. You think you deserve to run this company after a stunt like that?”

At this, Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve anything. I’ve never wanted this company,” he said.

“You ungrateful piece of shit.”

Seokjin meant what he said, but he wasn’t ungrateful. Inheriting his father’s million-dollar diamond corporation was never part of his interest. “You should hand over your company to the child who wants to run it. Sohee would—“

“Sohee doesn’t have what it takes to run my company.”

Translation: Sohee wasn’t a man. And Seokjin’s sexist father would never give her the chance she deserved to take over the family business. Even though she was the progeny most naturally suited for the job.

His father waved away the idea. “Enough of this talk of Sohee. You will inherit the family business. It’s time you stopped acting like a child. Have you forgotten your responsibilities? After your wedding to Mei, our company will expand. You’ll have no time for these foolish endeavors.

How could he possibly forget? Between the tabloids and the endless, frivolous meetings crammed into his schedule to decide what color goes best with the tablecloths or what dish should be served for the twelfth-course meal, he hasn’t been able to escape any thoughts of the wedding as much as he’d wanted to.

Seokjin met Mei under duress six months ago with the intention of their union expanding the company into the Chinese market. And though their families held a long-standing relationship with each other—they were practically strangers. He had no feelings for her, and their relationship was strictly business, to his chagrin.

Seokjin didn’t want to get married—let alone to someone he barely knew. But the decision wasn’t up to him. As with everything else in his life, his father made all the decisions. Every school, every job, and every opportunity was already picked out for him before Seokjin could even utter the word ‘no. Nothing was ever a choice.

He hated his father. For his cruelty and selfish ways, his blatant disregard for others, his children’s wishes, and the control he had over Seokjin’s life.

“As a matter of fact, I have an important business dinner with her father this evening—you will attend.”

“Of course, not like I had any plans.” Said Seokjin, smiling sweetly, but his eyes held malice.

His father cut him a look and opened his mouth for what Seokjin was sure would be a good cussing out, only for his father to explode into a coughing fit. The bastard was sick, but unfortunately for Seokjin, not ill enough to die. Just enough for his father to retire early and order him to take over, crushing any dream he had of escaping his legacy.

His father cleared his throat. “I expect you to be on your best behavior and impress him, boy. But don’t be a fucking kiss ass. Remember, you represent the Kim name. Show me you are not a complete disappointment as my heir. You can do at least that, can’t you?”

Seokjin grit his teeth, swallowing down his anger. He hated his father for his relentless demands, but he also hated himself.

Because despite resenting it all, Seokjin always did as he was told.

. . .

[4:34pm] Sunshine Boss: I have something for you :)

[4:34pm] Sunshine Boss: I know you’re off tonight, but you should stop by and pick it up. I think you’ll be satisfied with the gift.

You look up from your phone, stopping midway in your tracks. It’d be risky, but you could squeeze in some time to stop by the club before heading to your other job.

Jeongguk winked at you as you walked up to Paradise. You smile at him as he holds the door open for you, shaking your head at his endless flirting. It always amused you that he was the club bouncer when the kid was a little younger than you. But you always felt safer having Jeongguk at the door. You’ve seen firsthand how that sweet bunny smile could fade into a deadly expression. Jeongguk could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and his muscles weren’t just for show. You felt sorry for anyone who crossed a line at the club and ended up facing off with him.

It doesn’t take you long to find your boss. He’s tucked away in his sleek gray office as usual, typing away on his laptop. He looked polished as ever in a new suit and a crisp white button-down. When you knocked on the door, Hoseok looked up and waved you inside. “Come in.”

“You said you had something for me?” You asked. You were still curious as to why he requested you stop by. Work was work, but Hoseok took your personal lives seriously. He never crossed the line between the two, so you found it odd he reached out.

“I do,” said Hoseok, reaching inside his desk drawer. “Your private session left you a big tip last night. I thought it’d be best if you received it directly.” You watched as he pulled out a fat white envelope and slid it across the desk.

Just looking at it made you raise an eyebrow. Hoseok’s bright eyes gave nothing away as he waved a hand towards the envelope, beckoning you towards it.

Without thinking, you opened the envelope and let out a little gasp of shock at the thick wad of bills inside. Hundred-dollar bills.

“All this is for me?”

“All of it.”

You shifted out a few bills, ready to hand over your expected dues, but Hoseok stopped you with a hand. “You misunderstand. I already have my cut. Everything within that envelope is yours.”

“Are you serious?” You said, unable to hide the shock in your voice. You had enough money in your hands to pay your whole rent for the month and then some. All from one dance.

The sharp angles of Hoseok’s face softened, and he smiled at your disbelief, a dimple showing out. “Clearly, you left a good impression, but I expect nothing less—you’re one of the best.”

You wave away his words, too embarrassed to accept the compliment, thinking about exactly how you won Seokjin’s favor. Just the thought made your heart race. As much as you hated to admit it, your patron wasn’t the only one affected by that last dance.

“I um—I’ve got to go. But thank you for making sure I got this personally.”

“Of course. Before you leave, your gift came with a letter,” said Hoseok, pointing back to his desk.

You don’t know how you missed it at first, but sure enough, another smaller envelope was on the glass with your name handwritten on the front.

“Oh.”

“I think you might have a new regular. Seokjin seems to be very fond of you.”

. . .

Later that afternoon, you pulled up to work, grateful you remembered to stash a bag with clothes in your car. You quickly run to the back, hoping to change into your uniform. But your boss caught you before you could sneak off to the back.

“You’re late,” she hissed.

Yes, that was becoming quite a habit of yours. You ducked your head apologetically, hoping the woman would scold you quickly. “I’m sorry, I was—”

“—I don’t have time for excuses. A high-ranking guest is coming in tonight, so just do your job.”

You don’t miss the pointedness in her tone—no fuck ups tonight.

“Got it,” you said, holding back your grimace as she berated some more before sending you off to change. All you could do was grin and bear it. Even if you didn’t feel like you had it in you to pull on a fake smile and tend to your special guests.

But that was your job as a hostess. It paid well, though sometimes it almost didn’t feel worth it with the snooty customer base you had to face, but between rent and your school tuition, you literally couldn’t afford to be picky.

Even if you didn’t have the energy to put up with these rich assholes, at least you didn’t have to pull a shift at Paradise after this. You just had to pull yourself together for a few hours, and then you could go home.

You change into a little black dress and switch out your sneakers for a pair of tall heels. It wasn’t exactly a ‘uniform’ uniform, but your second job still has a certain look and aesthetic to maintain. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and you can’t help but feel eyes on you as you make your way back to the hostess table up front, heels clicking.

Dionysus was in full swing, each white-clothed table crowded and buzzing, and you watched as people clinked glasses under the chandeliers. But at your post, you kept your eye on the empty room in the back.

Whoever your guests were tonight, if they were truly a big deal, you’d escort them to have their meal in that private room.

Once the opening crowd thins out, the evening goes by slowly for you, and before you know it, you’re sneaking a peek at your phone, trying not to keep your boredom at bay.

There were a couple texts from Hyuna and a picture she sent of herself and the girls at Paradise.

[6:15pm] Babygirl: I’m so BORED when you’re not here🥺

[ 6:16pm]You: Sameeee. Don’t have fun without me!

[6:18pm] Babygirl: You know it’s boring when you’re not here! Miss you tonight 💕

You heart the message, missing her too.

Still no messages from Yoongi.

All his silence does is confirm the feeling in your gut and fuel the quiet resolve to make a decision.

You’re so busy ruminating that you don’t even realize you have guests in front of you until someone clears their throat in front of you.

“Act like you have some sense. The reservation for the Kim Corporation is here.”

You shove down your disdain for your boss and put on your best smile, ready to greet your new guests. Only when you look up do you realize it’s not a new guest after all.

Kim Seokjin stood in front of you, handsome as ever. His fringe frames his face, drawing your attention to his dark eyes and immaculate suit. You could tell from the quality of his clothes that it was expensive, but the white button-down left open on his chest said that looking flawless was effortless on his part. His brows furrowed at the sight of you, but then the confusion cleared, and in its place, Seokjin fixed you with a dazzling white smile and said: “It’s you.”

You barely have time to recover from the blow before you fix your smile in place (the one you use strictly for work; polite and friendly) and greet his party.

“Welcome to Dionysus, Mr.Kim. It’s a pleasure to have you dine with us tonight.”

Seokjin blinked at your formal demeanor, not expecting your casual dismissal of his recognition. But you don’t react—you can’t. No one here knew of your other life, and you planned on keeping things this way.

“Please follow me; I’ll direct you towards our private dining experience.” You quickly turned on your heel, walking forward without sparing so much as a second glance towards him. But you can sense his eyes on you, that hot, molten feeling rising in your body as you lead the party toward the back.

When you stopped before the table, Seokjin pulled out the chair closest to your position, trying to address you once more. “It’s nice to see you again.”

You maintain your plastic smile. “You must be mistaken, Sir; we haven’t met. I’ve heard this is your first time visiting Dionysus.”

“You mean to tell me we haven’t met before?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, but your facade didn’t waver. If anything, your eyes seemed to embolden, daring him to question your professionalism. You’re so calm and cool that if it were anybody else, Seokjin might have believed himself to be mistaken. But he knows he’s not. As if he could forget your face after last night.

So that’s how you wanted to play this? Fine. Two could play that game. He’d get your attention one way or another.

“Excuse me, I have a special request,” asked Seokjin, successfully grabbing your supervisor’s attention. “Your hostess is so lovely. Is there any way that she could tend to our table tonight?.”

Your eyes widen in shock for a split second, not anticipating this outcome. “I’m sorry, I’m not a part of the waitstaff—”

“—Absolutely,” Your boss cut in. “I’m sure (Y/n) would like nothing more than to take care of your party personally.”

At the mention of your name, Jin’s eyes widened. He simply wanted you near, but his request seemed to come with a little gift now that he knew your name.

The realization must have dawned on you simultaneously since the look on your face is a mix of shock and rage. Jin finds the combination amusing, and he can’t keep the satisfied smirk on his lips, knowing he sneakily earned another night with you.

Serves you right for trying to ignore him. Seokjin gave you a look, cocky and full of ego, relaying this very thought.

You wanted to wipe his smug smirk off. Asshole. You haven’t waited tables since your first year in college, and now, because this guy batted his pretty eyes, you’re right back where you started?

Who does this guy think he is?

You’re beyond annoyed, but all you can do is plaster on another fake smile and join the servers at the table. Thankfully, you’d served with everyone working the table before, so getting back into the flow of things was easy.

You fell into step from memory; everything returned to you from years of practice waitressing. You reached past Seokjin to fill his wine glass, and the asshole had the nerve to look up and smile at you.

You smile back, of course, even though you’re silently fuming, but your eyes tell a different story. You let Seokjin see it, all the anger buried underneath the polite mask as you pour.

But Seokjin’s smile didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. You swear his smile only brightened, the grin spreading across his handsome face.

You didn’t realize you had overfilled his glass until you heard the scrap of his chair across the floor when he jumped back from the table.

You were so distracted you poured the wine right into his lap. But he didn’t have to know that. Even though it wasn’t your intention, you’re more than happy to claim the credit for his displeasure.

“My apologies, Sir,” you said with a smirk.

Seokjin glared at you in response. Now that the shock was gone, you had to stifle a laugh behind your hand seeing his pouty face.

Your boss hissed your name, eyeing you with a tilted head at the mess you were in no rush to clean up.

“Let me help you with that,” you sighed. You bent down, picking up a spare napkin off the table. You dipped it in water and mindlessly dabbed at the spill on his suit.

You were already so close before you realized your mistake. You could smell the heated spice of Seokjin’s cologne, and you were just a breath away from that dazzling face. Just as close as you were the first night you met. The memory of it flashes through your mind—the warmth of his palm cupping your cheek like you were his lover. It’s enough to make your breath hitch.

You met his eyes, and the depth of his dark pools told you you weren’t the only one thinking of your first night together. Seokjin’s gaze dipped, looking at your lips as he wet his own.

It’s that small action that brings you back. What were you doing? Surely you weren’t about to kiss the stranger in the middle of a job? Quickly, you removed your hand from his lap, clearing your throat as you backed away.

Your mind felt hazy, and you knew who was to blame. But what you wouldn’t understand was the fact that Seokjin had any effect on you at all.

You knew it wasn’t his status; you often came across rich men in your work. His looks were unparalleled, but you rarely found attraction towards a pretty face last if you hadn’t liked their personality.

And you didn’t like him, right? No. He wasn’t your type at all. Still, you couldn’t deny the pull felt whenever he was in your presence.

For the rest of the night, you completed service for the party away from Kim Seokjin. Dinner went on in a daze. And before you knew it was closing time. The Kim Party stayed the whole night, which was tiring, but the generous tip they left did lighten your spirits as you exited the building.

You’re halfway out the door, eagerly awaiting a night alone in your apartment, when you hear someone call out your name.

“(Y/n).”

It’s Seokjin. You looked up to find him leaning back against a luxury SUV. “Or should I call you Angel? Both names suit you quite well.”

Dammit. In the heat of the moment, you forgot all about your boss giving away your name. If your two lives weren’t crossed over before, they certainly were now.

You’ve half a mind to ignore him and pretend you didn’t hear him in the first place, but ultimately, you decided to deal with it before things get more out of hand.

You walked up towards him. “Look, I’d appreciate it if you kept that name to yourself.”

“Which name?” He teased, eyes glinting at you in the dark. “They’re both very pretty.”

“I mean it. People don’t know about my other job here.”

“So you live a double life? That’s sexy.”

“It’s not as sexy as you think,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s actually really hard, so don’t make it any harder for me.”

Seokjin tilted his head to the side, studying you. You put up a good front, coming up to him acting all demanding. But he could see the vulnerability underneath it all; a part of you was worried.

“I wouldn’t dream of making anything more difficult for you,” he said, earnestly hoping to put your mind at ease. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh…” You weren’t expecting him to acquiesce so quickly. You honestly thought he’d be the type of jerk to tease you and hold it over your head like earlier. But Seokjin immediately respected your boundary; you didn’t even have to put your foot down.

“Thank you,” you said awkwardly.

“Of course.”

His behavior took you off guard, but you couldn’t lose focus. Your name wasn’t the only reason you approached him.

“Um, also, while you’re here, I’d like to give you this back,” you said, reaching into your bag for the envelope. You help it out for him to take. “Thank you for the tip, but I can’t accept this.”

Seokjin stared at your hand. “That was a gift.”

“It’s too much,” you added as if that held any weight.

“I haven’t to politely disagree. I enjoyed myself, and I value your time. I think the amount reflects that.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Can’t? Or won’t.”

“Okay, I won’t accept it. Take it back.”

“No.”

“Seokjin.”

“(Y/n).”

“Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Love, you’re the one making this difficult.”

“Look,” you said, frustrated at the conversation. “I’m not in the mood for games. I don’t know what your expectations are. But I’m not that kind of girl.”

Seokjin shook his head. “I’m not following…”

“Well then, let me make it clear to you. I said. I’m not that kind of girl.”

You were all up in his face, eyes full of fire, and Seokjin couldn’t help but like it. For a man in his position, very few people had the confidence to speak to him like that. He at once found it incredibly attractive and entertaining, watching you sass him with your neck craned as he looked down at you.

Clearly, you meant to be intimidating, but all Seokjin could think about was how sexy you looked when you were assertive.

“You didn’t read my letter, did you?”

“The letter is irrelevant; I don’t care how rich you are—you can’t buy me.”

“I think you are mistaken. I’m not trying to buy you, (y/n).”

You didn’t buy it. If there was anything you learned in life, it was that nothing ever came free. There was always a price. And this man came from a world where money ruled supreme.

“Then what do you want?”

You. It was the first thing that entered Seokjin’s mind. The thought took him by surprise. It’d been a while since he felt this attracted to anyone. And he certainly didn’t know what he was doing waiting after dinner to talk to you. Something was there, but he knew better than to voice this new feeling aloud.

Instead, he told a partial truth. “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “That night…. I’ve never seen someone move like that. The way you dance...You captivated me. You were like a goddess.”

You wanted to be mad at him. You really did. But you couldn’t help but feel yourself flush at the compliment and the sincerity in his voice. Men flirted with you often. It was a hazard of the job, but not like this. You’ve heard men highlight your body before, but no one ever mentioned the way you dance with awe in their voice, not just lust.

“It’s only natural to give an offering as your patron,” said Seokjin, winking at you.

Your body betrayed you then, a flush that heated you up. Get a grip! You thought. You weren’t some lovesick teen. You were grown. You would not be swayed by some rich asshole’s stupid flirting.

“Well, I don’t need your money. Here,” you said, thrusting it out in front of you. “You can have it back. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“You don’t owe me. I wanted to give it to you,” said Seokjin, stepping closer to you. “I think you deserve a lot more, to be honest.”

Seokjin placed his hand over yours, firmly keeping the envelope in your grip. “It was a gift. Nothing more, nothing less. Keep it.”

You’re so close Jin could smell you; your skin is warm and sweet, and your perfume was sultry and floral. Seokjin could drown in it. The scent clouded his senses and, clearly, his judgment because he closed what little distance sat between him and you. Here, he had a front row to your beautiful eyes, and those plush lips, and the only thing running through his head was what it would be like to kiss you.

Seokjin looked at you, really looked at you, and this time, he noticed you were not startled. Your pupils are blown, your chest rising quickly—he’d bet anything that whatever it is going on with him, you felt it too.

But again, you pulled away.

You took a step back to give yourself space and clear your head. Any longer, and you might have kissed him for real. And even though you and Yoongi were barely a thing and planned on ending things, you hadn’t ended them yet. Even though Seokjin had you wanting to cross all kinds of boundaries—you weren’t about to cross that line.

“I um,” You stuttered, “I really can’t convince you to take it back?”

Jin considered your question. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll take the money back in exchange for a date.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Was he really asking you on a date? “How is that appealing to me? That’s just swapping one problem for another.”

“It would be the best day of your life.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I’m seeing someone. And even if I wasn’t—”

“Are you exclusive?”

“Well, no—”

“—Then I have a chance?” Said Seokjin, taking a step closer to you. He smiled again, and this time, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and you felt the warmth of his gaze flush all over you.

“I, um—”

Seeing you stutter, Seokjin’s smile brightened. “I do have a chance.”

Stupid, damn feelings.

“You have no chances,” you said, barely recovering from the brilliant attack on your heart. “Because I don’t date clients, remember?” You let words settle between you, their weight grounding you back to reality.

“And now you’ve also popped up at my day job?”

“A charming coincidence, I promise,” said Seokjin, placing a hand over his heart.

“Hmm. Well, I guess I’ll keep your money after all.” Even if he was the most handsome man you’d ever met, you were an adult. Your better judgment kept you from crossing that line.

Seokjin smirked. “Good.”

Good? You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked a little too pleased with your decision. “Did you only propose that because you knew, I’d say no and keep the money?”

“No,” he said, leaning toward entrancing you again with a close-up view of his superior good looks. “I hoped you’d say yes. But I’ll take the consolation prize.”

“Besides, I’m rich,” laughed Seokjin. “It’s not like I need more money.”

And just like that, the moment of infatuation passed. Seokjin was back to being a rich asshole. Perfect. You could work with that.

You backed away from him, heading for your car. “Goodnight, Seokjin.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n)”

It’s not until you’re sitting in your car, catching your reflection in the rearview mirror, that you realize you’ve got a stupid grin on your face.

Immediately, you stopped, catching yourself. It felt nice to be admired and flirted with, but what was your problem? Why were you smiling about some random stranger when you had a—

The bright ping of your phone went, and you reached inside your purse to check your texts.

[9:06pm] Yoongi: Missed you at Paradise tonight? Can I stop by later?

Speak of the devil…Of course, Yoongi would contact you now.

You didn’t owe him any loyalty, but that didn’t mean you felt comfortable talking to other guys. But still, why?

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend. So why were you giving him the boyfriend treatment?

“Are you exclusive?”

“Well, no—”

“—Then I have a chance?”

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. Why were you thinking about Seokjin’s words earlier? He wasn’t even a dating option, but he did have a point.

For all intents and purposes, you were practically single, so why were you acting coupled up again?

You look at the three little dots bubbling up from your lack of response. How long were you going to keep doing this? Repeating the same cycle over again?

No. No more.

You fired off a text back: I can’t, busy, then threw your phone on the seat and started up your engine before you could change your mind

The cycle ends right now. You wouldn’t spend the rest of your twenties going back and forth with some guy who only ever wanted to sleep with you.

You’re young. You’re hot. You didn’t have to sit around and wait for some guy to want you. You could get a date with anyone you wanted, hell, even a millionaire!

For a minute, even though tonight was an inconvenience, you’re grateful you ran into Seokjin just for that reminder.

The next time you see Yoongi, you know what you need to do.

You’re ending things up with him. For good.

[guerrillateezsworld]

Can you do some headcanons for Jack Hughes or Mitch Marner about them being with an ADHD/neurodivergent girl?? Like, a lot of my personal things are weird noises, textures (I love soft, but hate scratchy), random bouts of singing, and constant movement/fidgeting

yes ofc!! i’ll do mitch since you seem to be pretty infatuated with him! and there’s 100% nothing wrong with that.

as someone who doesn’t have adhd and isn’t neurodivergent, this might be a little bad and i apologize and ill try my best.

———————-

mitch marner with an ADHD/neurodivergent gf!

warnings/content: just fluff, mitch is sweet and understanding, gf has adhd and is neurodivergent, mentions of triggers gf doesn’t like (ill try not to add a lot so it doesn’t affect you), that should be all!

a/n- here’s my work for this request and i hope it’s close as can be, i want it to make sense and i want people to understand it. i’m extremely sorry if this offends anyone

definition of adhd: A chronic condition including attention difficulty, hyperactivity, and impulsiveness.

ADHD often begins in childhood and can persist into adulthood. It may contribute to low self-esteem, troubled relationships, and difficulty at school or work.

definition of neurodiversity: The term “neurodivergent” describes people whose brain differences affect how their brain works. That means they have different strengths and challenges from people whose brains don't have those differences. The possible differences include medical disorders, learning disabilities and other conditions.

———————————

mitch marner

-mitch is an extremely sweet and understanding person. when you guys first started becoming friends and when you started dating, you explained everything to him.

-by explaining i mean telling him how certain things affect you, how you act towards certain things, what makes you comfy and uncomfy.

-he made sure to listen and understand what you meant. mitch is a vocal yet well kept person, so he doesn’t really have problems asking when he doesn’t get something you say

-he also made sure not to ask to much or push anything further, he knows how hard it can be so he immediately educated himself to better understand.

-i feel like he can relate to some of the triggers you have or things you absolutely love.

-as neurodiversity is a bigger factor to depression, when you have downtimes, he makes sure to stay by your side but also give you space when needed

-if you guys are out in public, say at awards, he’s definitely making sure you’re 100% near him at all times. he doesn’t want you out of his line of sight, just to protect you.

-he loves you!! don’t forget that!! anything that you think are flaws, he sees them as perfection im telling you. mitch is extremely honest, so it goes perfect!!

-textures and sounds can play a huge roll in your life, so he makes sure he knows what you like and don’t like. such as soft texture and scratchy texture (i don’t really like that either).

-one of his favorite things about you, and there’s thousands, is when you just randomly start singing. like he’ll just be chilling with you on the couch, you both on your phones, and you just start singing. it’s like music to his ears, which it pretty much is music.

-your voice calms him down when he’s the one that’s had a bad day, and everyone has one no matter who you are and it’s normal. that’s why he always wants to be near you. you give him the comfort he needs and wants.

-when you move or fidget a lot, he calmly asks if everything’s okay and if you need him to do something or help you. i feel like that’s what he’d be like during the start and mid friendship and relationship.

-the longer you stayed with him, the more normal it was for him to know what to do. practice makes perfect and mitch lives by that, as hes also a hockey player and you need practice for that.

-overall, mitch understands you and loves you for who you are. and it’ll stay that way forever!

—————————————

okay well i hope you liked that! i tried to research and make sure i didn’t get anything wrong. i hope this wont offend anyone as im not the best educated on this stuff!

[r0gerr0ger]

Extract from an interview with Jobal Naberrie.

Sometime post-Endor.

….

Interviewer: And why do you think your daughter was so drawn to Skywalker, Mrs Naberrie?

Naberrie: She never… she didn’t get much of a childhood, you see. Or an adolescence. She was thrust into adulthood very quickly, and for all I have been so, overwhelmingly, proud of her… I’m her mother at the end of the day. Sometimes all I wanted for Padme was a bit of normalcy. Anakin provided that, I think.

She didn’t get much attention either, you see- or, she got a lot of attention- people have always wanted to know her, and be around her, ever since she was little- but not because of her, so much as what she represented or what she could give them. But Skywalker, he… he wanted her. Padme. That was it.

And he- he was sweet, really. Drowned her in affection and attention, worshipped the ground she walked on. Let her unwind, be free. And she leapt at it. It was the first of its kind she’d ever received. A teenage love. Infatuation.

But, in truth I hadn’t expected it to last so long. I thought it would be good for Padme, to be shown she was worthy of love and attention simply for being her. Have a bit of fun and then move on, find somewhere more like her, someone kinder. But she didn’t…

Interviewer: You seem… unhappy, with that.

Naberrie: [pause] …He wasn’t kind, you see… He could be quite cruel sometimes. Demanding. Anakin would hold her to a standard he didn’t keep himself, or he would be dismissive of her feelings. Things I hadn’t expected her to tolerate in a relationship. And… just strange sometimes, too.

Interviewer: Strange?

Naberrie: I’m not too sure how to explain it. Only that, she’d mention things to me, off-hand. About his views- on politics, the galaxy, on how a relationship should be. Views so different from her own. He seemed to me quite childish, selfish…

But then, Padme was often unkind too. Selfish. I- I can admit that, I feel. I should admit it. It was a failing of mine, to not protect her better from the responsibilities she was levied.

Interviewer: Her responsibilities made her selfish and unkind, you feel?

Naberrie: Yes. It was something she took from being Queen, I always felt. And then senator, so suddenly afterwards. She had so little that was only hers, and when she did- she could be so possessive over it. Protecting her peace- as they say- even if it came at a cost, even if it was unfair on those around her. Only as Queen, or as a senator, that peace was Naboo- the safety and security of her planet, and that kind of responsibility changes someone. The cost of protecting Naboo becomes compromising your own personal values and beliefs. It is making sacrifices for the good of the many. And thus having to realign the way you see things, frequently, in order to reconcile yourself to those sacrifices. And that bled into her personal life. Of course it would, for anyone.

Skywalker brought her a sense of security. He loved her, truly- and in a way, helped returned her adolescence to her. And she clung to that. Refused to divulge it, even if it meant staying with a man who could be cruel. Even if it meant subverting, adapting, abandoning her own beliefs to suit his, or to reconcile herself with the relationship.

She was happy. Anakin made her happy. I would never refute that. But I think she would have been happier, with someone else.

I think she would be alive, too.

[davlucies]

here are all the fics i wrote for @duckprintspress's may trope mayhem. they ended up all being balance fics... surprising no one ;u;

this list is ordered chronologically by when in canon the fic takes place !

there's a flame i know, hotter than hot (davenport/lucretia, "mutual pining")

It wasn’t right, his stupid infatuation. His taunting thoughts and unasked-for feelings. The way his heart ached when she laughed, when she looked at him, her joy and beauty warming him as if stoking a roaring hearth. He loved her, he truly did. It took years for these feelings to accumulate, but now, a decade into their journey, they’d coalesced into a deep yearning. He needed her, but he couldn’t have her. He never would.

small enough to slip inside a book (18+, davenport/lucretia, "secret relationship")

Another ten years, or twenty, and maybe their love would be as mundane as engine maintenance or sitting on watch for the Light to fall.

two shades in sunlight (davenport/lucretia, "outsider pov," bonus info: the title was inspired by "bleeker street" by simon and garfunkel)

She gawked at them, a little. Lucretia was glowing, open and joyous. Dav was admiring her, his expression warm and fond.

heisting (davenport/lucretia, "fake relationship")

“You guys don’t look married at all,” Magnus heckled. Lucretia awkwardly reached for Davenport’s hand, and he took hers. They’d never so much as held hands in front of the crew before. “Nice and natural,” Taako joked.

so stand me by that column (18+ davenport/lup, "wound tending")

“Well…” he’d said, not looking at her, “It’s cathartic, hearing it from someone else. In this context.”

every look is a truce (gen, "accidental ownership")

“I have no qualms as long as we can retrieve the Light,” Davenport said, but his tone was sharp and too defensive. Of course he had qualms.

reassembled (barry/lup, "reincarnation," bonus info: i misread the prompt a lil eheh)

The first time Barry reformed, Lup threw her arms around him. “We missed you,” she said, resting her cheek against his shoulder. All Barry could do was hug her back. His crush bloomed to love in the warmth of her attention, and he was so relieved to be home.

the warmth i missed (barry/davenport/lucretia/lup, "there was only one bed")

Davenport stepped inside, staring at the room. Or, not the room. The bed. That was the thing: there was only one bed.

still waiting for the swollen Easter tide (18+, davenport/lucretia, "forced proximity")

“Hopefully the others will get the Light,” he said. He watched her shiver. Even after the long weeks they’d spent here, they were still unused to the dungeon’s cold. It was a perpetual chill, a perpetual discomfort.

bottom storage (gen with background ships, "bottom storage")

“This is the worst day of my life,” Taako said. “It might be the best day of mine, if I’m being fully honest,” Davenport said, still fishing random crap out of his pockets. 

no dog in the yard (gen, "keep your dog on a leash")

Davenport looked behind the counter. The man’s face was clear, at least, but he was glaring at them. At Davenport. “You keep that thing away from the merchandise, alright lady?”

once more, just to dream (18+, magnus/lucretia, "mistaken identity")

It’s not that he’s in love with her. Just, it would be hot to bend her over her desk and fuck her like she's a normal person. Like she's his.

an unexploded shell (18+, davenport/lucretia, "vampire")

She knew he hated when she spoke like this, when she was honest. She destroyed everything she touched, everyone who got near. It would have been better if she had died during Story and Song. His life would be easier with her dead.

it's just a jump to the left (gen with background ships, "time loop")

Lucretia shifts, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Davenport remembers this, her defensiveness. And how quickly her shield had been shot down. “You don’t know that,” she says. “We don’t know anything about what the Light is capable of."

tomorrow, you can go back to being alone (18+, davenport/lucretia, "love requited too late")

Davenport’s stomach twisted. She was leaving them to be alone, to stew in grief and regrets like she always did. Like he did when he was at sea. “I’m leaving too,” he said.

[sasukesun]

Unexpected Sakura character deep dive or AKA why I’m convinced that kishi had at least some intention with her character to remain as shallow as she was when she was introduced because he could have changed her path at anytime but consciously chose not to:

I think when Kishi described Sakura’s love for Sasuke as a “selfish love” that was not only true at the time that Naruto began but remained true all the way to the very end of the series and onto Boruto as well. Kishi wrote Sakura as someone who was bullied as a child and gave her a crippling inferiority complex that she essentially never grew out of. She is not only extremely insecure about herself but also overcompensates in every way to make herself look bigger and better than she really is. Whether this was bragging about herself or doing something purposefully to get attention. And ever since she was a kid Sasuke was the “cool guy” that every girl in the village wanted. However, he never showed any girls any interest whatsoever, including Sakura, which only made village girls like Ino and Sakura want him even more.

In Sakura’s eyes, Sasuke is the flawless and fearless cool hot guy who could do no wrong. He is a gifted and talented ninja ever since he was a kid who outranked his peers a thousand to one. Sasuke, to Sakura, is a symbol of achievement and the epitome of success. And by winning his love, that would make her a success as well. To have the cool guy who never showed interest in any girl to pick HER? Well, that would mean she’s special too - like she always wanted to be. It doesn’t matter if she fundamentally misunderstands Sasuke as a person or that he was really just a traumatized kid who grew up without a family in a corrupted village who wanted him and his clan dead….That doesn’t matter to her, because that’s not the Sasuke that she built up in her mind. As long she can get him to love her, and show everyone that she’s special too, everything else doesn’t really matter.

Even in Boruto and Gaiden where it shows that Sasuke hasn’t visited his wife and daughter in over a decade and that Sarada has no idea where her father is or that Sakura hasn’t received so much as a hug/kiss from the person she married in years (if ever). OR that she can’t even answer a basic question from her daughter on if Sasuke ever wore glasses or not. It doesn’t matter because in Sakura’s mind, she won. The cool guy that everyone else wanted picked her, so that means shes special. Her inferiority complex that she never outgrew feeds into this acknowledgment and clings to it. She parades around the village wearing the uchiha symbol like a winner walks around with a gold medal and plasters the symbol on her house. It doesn’t matter that she has never been shown to acknowledge the mass murder of the uchiha clan or the violent history of Sasuke’s childhood. Or that even her husband doesn’t wear the uchiha symbol himself anymore. All that matters is that she won - her selfish love won in the end. Sasuke is hers and she feels validation that she wanted ever since she was a child.

well, yes, she sees sasuke as a price to be won and all she cares about is status. see, she doesn’t really care about him, no wonder kishimoto couldn’t bring himself to write a reason for her to “love” him because that would sound contrived. it’s not love, just infatuation. she’s infatuated with the sasuke she’s created in her head and his coolness and status. if there was another cooler guy, guess what, she would’ve gone for him instead of sasuke, her character is that shallow after all. why do you think she gets aggressive when her daughter starts asking valid questions about her shady “marriage”? because she can’t keep up with the appearances and delusions that “she won” when she still doesn’t get any affection, when she didn’t really got what she wanted and has to compensate with the uchiha crest and lies, the same way she brags about herself while trying to put other people down to feel better when, in fact, deep down she knows she “can’t do anything”, as sakura herself admitted it multiple times. kishimoto starts the story saying she’s someone that pursues a selfish love and ends it saying sakura is addicted to sasuke, a word with a negative connotation, indicating she’s toxic, and his portrayals are compatible to what he says.

[juulz]

Hi Juulz, welcome back! I'm glad you had a good trip!

It pumps me the fuck up to know you enjoy my analyses and that based on the tags, find them helpful in arranging ideas. That is the highest honor for a little fangirl such as myself. I am a shameless lore whore, so getting to piece things together and unraveling the backstory is so much fun. So is brainstorming additional story details canon leaves out or unclear.

I've heard people say that, "assuming makes an ass out of you and me both," and I think I see why lmfao. Between me being a hopeless romantic, calling on common narratives and assuming there would be an overaching theme of love between the Misfits and AWSB AUs (even if they ultimately played out differently), I read into things a little off. That said, I'm not disappointed in this take and I'm actually curious about how it's going to play out. Be it something as simple as Misfit! Silver being an Aromantic Pansexual, or something as deliciously tragic as him being too emotionally broken down to acknowledge his own feelings, or hell, being capable of geniune love at all. There's plenty of options for you to chose from, and either way, it's content for me to eat.

Leaving the concept of Silver's ex a blank slate is good for me as well, as I can play around with different ideas and scenarios when I'm bored and adapt it to whatever I'm craving.

And yeah, I see your point of Silver caring for his ex and possibly Gold in a non-romantic/non-familial platonic way. Honestly, platonic love is more sacred, Western Culture just hypes romance up too much (and I'm a victim of that brainwashIng). I have to laugh, because the more we chat about the AUs the more I kin your Golds. This particular conversation really makes me feel connected to Gold as I remained infatuated with my first love for years despite him being in and out of my life and usually not a good influence. I've crushed on a guy-friend I went to highschool with who was aroace. I loved one of my childhood friends before I understood I was bi, and watched her love other people and watched get her heart broken repeatedly, but grew to love her only platonically later. I had pretty strong feelings for a girl who cared about me so little she laughed when she heard about my botched suicide attempt. And I had a massive crush on a guy-friend from college who had a limerent crush on someone else and we became even better friends after he rejected me.

That last one is particularly funny for me because my mom, shortly before she passed, had really shipped us and said, "I can tell he loves you, maybe not in a romantic sense, but he loves you regardless. I wish he was in love with though, because he sounds like a young man I'd trust with my daughter". I don't care if anyone else sees this, it's the internet, it's anonymous. Besides, it's my canon event, it happened, I survived and got better.

Oh, and thank you for linking the flashback image. I remember seeing it before, but I think I had paid more attention to Gold's half, while overlooking one of the potential implication's of Silver's. I'm not sure how I missed that. Catholic school boy probably means more than religious trauma. Lastly, would you be interested in hearing some songs that make me think of Silver? I've been wanting to make a playlist. It'll probably be multiversal though so I don't have to make specific playlists for different characterizations.

Thank you, it’s been fantastic! Trying to get back into the grind now.

I enjoy reading all feedback and especially when it’s so thought through and thorough. It can be hard to pack all the details and nuances into a couple of panels, so I’m always down to talk about the AUs to clarify and/or expand upon or just to chat in general. As long as it’s not a spoiler ;)

The overreaching theme of love may yet be possible, but if we’re talking about “Nothing” comics, it’s too early into the story to be anything but one-sided. After realizing his crush (and losing some of his 'clients' and out of fear for his life) Gold starts hanging more around that pub where Silver’s band plays and practices. They do drugs, fuck around after gigs and in between, but in the end Gold’s no more than a groupie competing with the other groupies for some dick to suck.

I recall mentioning it somewhere, possibly twtr, Silver’s response comes off as harsh, but this has not been the first time Gold’s confessed. Not even the second. An obsessed fan threatening to off themselves unless they get a return confession. He’d seen this before, he detests blackmail, and still Silver breaks that door down and drags Gold’s pissy ass to the A&E for he wants no one else OD’ing on him, willfully or otherwise.

If I ever write a fic this would be covered, but as things are I don’t mind leaving it vague even if it paints Silver more of an asshole than he really is. It also makes Gold lessmore pathetic.

Thank you for sharing this with me. I’m sorry you had to go through this, but I’m really glad you’re doing better now.

I tend to see bits of myself in both of the characters, as most creatives do. Losing a friend to an intentional overdose, trashy underground parties and gigs and overall nonconformity being my canon events. Not autobiographical of course, I wouldn't (probably even be able to) let my life get as fucked up as theirs, but that’s the fun of cooking up these AUs, exploring the extremes and subjecting my faves to the what-ifs.

Catholic school boy probably means more than religious trauma

You may assume the worst here.

Oh, please do! I’d be stoked to hear which songs you associate with the lads. I myself don’t have a playlist assembled for Misfits AU, but there was one for AWSB.

[rosemarie333]

Hi, in your post you said Venus aspecting Pluto and mars aspecting Pluto can make you attached, especially after sex. I have Venus square Pluto ( Venus in Pisces), and mars sextile Pluto (Aquarius mars). Do you think I shouldn’t have sex. I haven’t yet, but you’re right I get so attached before I even date someone. I’m so afraid that losing my virginity will make me clingy and annoying. I currently make sure to close off my emotions and isolate myself, and I don’t tell people how I feel, out of fear of it being too much.

Hey girl!

Girl to be honest I’d advise to do the opposite. I understand your fears, but believe me there are people out there who are just as passionate about love and relationships as you may be. Since you have easier aspects with mars, I notice people with easier aspects being able to be very attached to their partner but also have an easier time not crossing the line from being passionate to being borderline obsessive, especially sexually since mars is a planet of sex and desire and since you have mars in aquarius the ability to be become sexually detached when it’s not being reciprocated is something that can be learned in time. with venus squaring pluto, and having a venus in pisces, i’d advice you to trust your intuition with someone and to not overlook the red flags within a relationship because since pisces can often time do so, people can take advantage of it. allowing yourself to feel passionate with someone but not allowing yourself to do so where you lose yourself or when you know it’s not reciprocated by the other person (when they aren’t showing signs that they reciprocate it). i knew someone with pisces venus squaring pluto and they were super obsessed with someone who clearly did not reciprocate that and they used them for attention. it’s just having clear boundaries with yourself in seeing the reality of things and being selective of who you choose to be in a relationship with. and I advise that although you deserve to feel passionate, when you become too infatuated with someone it will hurt you more than it does them.

About your virginity, I’d advice it to lose it to someone you truly trust and who you know won’t make you feel clingy or annoying bc GIRL U AINT EITHER OF THAT! you deserve to have a sexual experience with someone who doesn’t fear intimacy and closeness! When I said people can be clingy with those aspects, they can usually become more emerged with their partner and can become paranoid because they’re afraid of opening up to a person just for them to not reciprocate.

overall i’d advice using intuition and discernment, allowing yourself to be passionate with someone but understanding who is reciprocating that energy and who isn’t (whoever isn’t KICK THEM TO THROUGH CURB FAST!) and allowing your self to have a healthy attachment with someone so you don’t lose yourself to your partner and to have better trust with and in your partner, and realize that you shouldn’t close yourself off due to the fear of being too much because there are people in the world who will validate you and help you realize that your not too much!

Sorry for the long response but I hope that helped🥺🥺🫶🏾

[infiinitys]

thecryptidcottage:

          far be it for lindsay to protest the fairness of life ― no, on the contrary, the gardener considers himself fairly well-versed in the many ways that life is actually not fucking fair at all, not for himself nor nearly anyone else enduring it. but jace escarra ― well, jace makes him consider what is and most certainly is not fair in ways he’s never had to think about before. for instance, lindsay can’t help but wonder how it’s fair that a single person can unknowingly hold so much influence over the way he feels at any given moment. and no, okay, that’s not new, is it ? good as he’s gotten at hiding it ― and he has ― lindsay has always been just a little too sensitive for his own good.

          ( ❛ still waters run deep, ❜ his mam always used to say about him, back before she knew exactly how deep his waters ran. she doesn’t say much about him at all anymore. )

          it’s different with jace, though, he’d swear to it. it feels different. because as nervous as he is to admit it, there’s something comfortable about jace. something comforting. he feels safe. because when his heart races and his pulse spikes and he’s suddenly tripping and stumbling and stuttering over his words because of jace, it isn’t out of anxiety. it’s not fear. no, he thinks it’s something more like excitement, maybe even anticipation. for the company, the conversation ― whatever the cause, he’d be a liar to say that he doesn’t enjoy the feeling, doesn’t find himself looking forward to their interactions that he might feel those dumb little butterflies fluttering in his chest again. he only wishes he had even a fraction more control over them, over himself when he’s around.

          ( there’s nothing charming about bumbling like a fool, is there ? it’s a wonder jace keeps his company, but lindsay knows better than to question a gift. )

          but lindsay doesn’t have that control, and he can’t. not when jace can just appear at any moment, looking the way he does, with that smile warm and sweet as honey and and gaze so soft and inviting that lindsay thinks he’d just as easily get lost in it if he didn’t tether himself to reality, and both of them in that moment ― in this moment ― are just for lindsay’s eyes. and look, he knows it’s foolish to think that way, okay ? he’s only fanning the flames of an infatuation that is surely soon to have him combust. as much is all but proven by the flowers, isn’t it ? he tries to act casual as jace speaks, tries to pay attention, but he’s already imagined at least a dozen fictional lovers to have spurred the purchase of the bouquet, all of whom he’s aggrandized in his head to be in the same league as the brilliant man opposite him and none of whom would be any of his damn business if they were real. lindsay knows this. he knows this. he can’t help it.

          ❝ do they ? i ― not that i’m surprised, i’ve just not had the chance to stop in yet, but per yer review, i think maybe i’ll have to make time, ❞ lindsay says, as if there’s anyone else he’d want to buy flowers for but the man standing opposite him, searching for a photo of a bouquet he’d just gotten someone else when he had flowers on the brain. ( if he feels a twinge of jealousy, of disappointment at the thought, lindsay does his best to keep it from appearing in his expression. because that’s not fair, is it ? to jace ? ) when his eyes land on the screen, lindsay smiles fondly in spite of himself, distracted enough by the elegant arrangement of lilies that it takes jace’s next words a few seconds to process. and then lindsay blinks, lips twitching up slightly at the corners in a way that’s totally not obvious at all as he exhales a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. oh. oh. he’s aware jace is close to his family, close to his mother, but the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

           ❝ those are, erm ― they are heavenly, aren’t they ? absolutely gorgeous. ❞ he wonders if jace can hear the hope in his voice when he speaks next, or if it’s hidden beneath the wavering trepidation of ❛ do i want to know the answer ? ❜ he asks anyway. ❝ ye got flowers for yer mam ?❞

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐀𝐘'𝐒 entrance into his life to force the professor to realize just how little he knew about romance. He has thought of every suave thought that could possibly come to mind but he finds himself choking on all of them. Lindsay is as effervescent as the day is long -- as handsome as the night is endless. Jace could watch the stars that dance in his eyes for the rest of his life if he could, even when he is nothing more than stardust. Of course Jace has had partners before -- both boyfriends and girlfriends at various stages of his life. He certainly cared, he cared for each of them very deeply -- otherwise he would not have sought after a romantic relationship. However, feeling as strongly as he does is a luxury he believed he could never possibly afford. Affection truly bares a price that no money could buy, no matter how many years one endures physical labor or hunches over a desk.

If he just said the words, maybe he'd feel just a bit less insane.

He wishes there was someone to tell him what to do, when he is bound by the idea that he has to do the same for everyone else. When you are one of the smartest voices in the room, wether at age twelve or twenty-nine, you are expected to know all. At least, this was the way he felt being employed by the United States Federal Beauru of Investigation. This kid has a mind that saves lives. When romantically, he cannot even begin to strike the match to illuminate his own. The flush that paints the other man's cheeks, however, instigates once again the ever-present fight to keep himself under control. He had not cared for someone so much since arriving in Notting Hill -- shown someone so many pieces of him that he thought were going to stay broken.

"I couldn't help but notice the Irises." He eventually says once more as he gestures to the corner of the photograph, beginning to pick up on something in the other's behavior. It is not wise to lie around a profiler, former or current, but is attempts at decoding Lindsay's actions is often vailed by a layer of insecurity. More than anything, he desperately, hopelessly fears being wrong. "Those are my favorite." Perhaps this is a subtle hint at his own personal choices -- or perhaps he is just admiring the flower. It was up to the other man's interpretation.

He steps closer, not because he has coordinated the movement but because he does so without even thinking. It isn't the acknowledgment he seeks so desperately, but something is certainly better than nothing. The look in his Lindsay's eyes when they had initially fallen on the flowers had been enough to make his knees absolutely weak, the words I have feelings for you and I have for what feels like ages sitting on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill over.

But they don't. That's one fight he seems to be able to win.

"Yes.." He eventually says, shaking his head as he realizes that his mind has gone quite literally anywhere but here. And every thought just so happens to be starring the man in front of him. "My mom... she relocated to a small property near here super recently. So I thought... I thought I'd get her something to make a new place feel like home."

He remembers his childhood very fondly, despite his mother being in very few images. It was never by choice, but so she could give him a childhood at all. She loved him so much that she was willing to sacrifice quality time to give him every opportunity in the world. And when she was there, pain was a distant memory. However, he remembers the smell of his uncle's chocolate chip pancakes like it was yesterday, many diner food meals just so they could see his mother's face and the lingering oder of lavender perfume. He sees his mother in collections of lillies, fields of lavender.

"I will say... I'm not just here to look at the flowers.. as beautiful as they are. Stop and smell the roses if you well. Except, I suppose.. they're not roses." Get to the point, Escarra. The voice in his head is grating as he tries to put his words together in a way that does not just sound competent, but to mask just how head over heels. "A coworker of mine.." He begins again, turning his phone off and returning it to it's place in the back pocket of his trousers. "She's a photographer. She recently traveled to various places across the globe and she's having an exhibition of her work at the University. It's all photographs of the most beautiful flora and fauna.."

Jace, you're doing it again. Being a fucking nerd.

Try again.

"What I was hoping is..." He pauses, removing the mask just a bit so his eyes would soften. Of course he wants Lindsay's presence there, he wants it more than anyone else in the world. While he himself is quite interested in natural life -- he believes Lindsay would enjoy it much more than he would. It's a thought he would like to witness, live and in person. ".....You would join me. If you'd like, of course." He himself does not always fit in with the elders of the University that pays his bills, but London is certainly quite the expensive place to reside in and he has renovations to complete. "I know I would really like to have you there. They've also informed me that I have to wear a suit. Doing such an affair alone... it kinda terrifies me." With Lindsay, he would be at ease.

[wanduhhh]

Afternoon Delight (18+)

Oneshot- church mommy Wanda

Can’t pretend I’ll turn this into a series because I’m too lazy, but I was physically unable to not write something based on this pic. Enjoy!

-

“Just sit those beside the muffins sweetie, thanks so much for doing this” Wanda’s sweet words had you blushing and just about dropping the tray of cookies in your arms.

“Oh it’s no problem at all Wanda, anything for you” you beamed at her; internally smacking your forehead at your inability to play it cool. In your defence today was one of those glorious days where Wanda wore her glasses, and you were a goner at the sight.

Thick lenses framing her face, perched just above her button nose. She was too cute for her own good. She had recently cut her hair short and had been embarrassed about the ‘mom cut’ until you had convinced her she looked great by bombarding her with compliments until her cheeks were red.

This infatuation with the married woman had begun the second you moved to the small neighbourhood, greeted warmly by the woman the second your feet hit the sidewalk. From then on, she had become a permanent fixture in your daily life.

Wine dates and going to her whenever you had a tear in your dress that you just couldn’t sew. You had weaved your way into her busy life, and you were certainly not complaining.

This is what had led you to being in church at 7am on a Saturday morning. Wanda had flashed you a rushed smile the night before, explaining how she had so much to organise for the bake sale and practically no one to help her. Your car was loaded with baked goods before the night was over.

“Wanda you’ve really outdone yourself, this looks amazing” your eyes scanned over all the little handmade decorations she had been working on for the past week. Cheeks hurting from the smile that refused to leave your face.

“I couldn’t have done it without you silly, I really have to repay you somehow”. This was the biggest drawback to your friendship with the woman. The constant innuendos, the way she showered you with compliments and was always brushing hair out of your face with a perfectly manicured hand.

You could certainly think of a few ways she could repay you; imagining them whilst making eye contact with a crucified Jesus statue was not your finest moment.

As the day rolled on and the church became littered with all your fellow neighbours, you got less of Wanda’s undivided attention. The only thing that made you feel a little better about it was being able to study the woman whilst she was in her element.

Serving a cookie and ensuring everyone left her table with a smile, the woman was enchanting. Her movements so calculated, she stopped every now and again to throw you a quick smile over her shoulder.

Sometimes when she was listening intently to someone you would catch her twirling the bow around her neck in between her fingers, brows furrowed as she ingested every word that reached her ears. Earlier she had shed her grey coat, giving you a better view of the tight black dress that covered her body. You could not get your mind out of the gutter.

You were snapped out of your incessant daydreaming when you heard her calling your name, “y/n? Are you in there hun, you look a little warm”. You shook your head to clear the fuzziness that had taken over your brain. “Sorry Wanda, just lost myself for a moment there. What did you need?” Your words came out shaky as the hand she had placed on your forehead remained in place.

“Could you come help me with some boxes in the storage room sweetheart, there’s far too many”. You were nodding and following her like a puppy before she even finished her sentence.

The room was tiny and the boxes left only enough room for you to be pressed against Wanda’s side, the proximity leaving your mouth dry.

As you reached for the first box you felt Wanda grab your hand and raise it to her cheek. Spinning round to watch curiously as she pressed your fingertips against her ruby lips.

“Wanda what are you doing?” Your words came out as a whisper, too afraid to pierce the bubble surrounding you. “You’ve been so distracted today sweetie, and I think after being such a good girl you deserve a reward hmm?” You found yourself nodding along with her words.

“Come here darling” she whispered as she pulled you impossibly closer. Your mind could not catch up but it didn’t have to when Wanda brought your hands down to play with the bow around her neck.

“Take your reward baby” this finally snapped you out of it, not willing to pass up such an opportunity. You pushed her to lean against the wall of boxes, dropping to your knees in front of her. The irony of worshipping her in the back of a church was not lost on you.

You struggled to push the tight black skirt above her hips and she chuckled breathlessly as she wiggled her hips to pull it up. Your hands brushing over each other as desperation filled the room.

You were grateful to be on your knees already when you finally got the dress up to her waist, because the lacy black panties she had on would’ve left you unable to stand. You moaned at the sight, your mouth watering just at the thought of tasting her.

Your might flickered between wanting to tease her until she whined, and wanting to push your tongue into her immediately. But in the end she made the decision for you, grasping your hair with both hands and pushing your face between her thighs.

Her hand came down to push her panties to the side and you barely got to appreciate the view before she pushed your face back to where it was. No barrier between your mouth and her now. Your tongue immediately gathering up as much wetness as it possibly could.

Her head fell back on the boxes with a thump and you raised your eyes to see her panting with an open mouth. The sight had you moaning into her, and that had her biting down onto her own hand to stop herself from filling the church with the sound of her moans.

When you let your fingers enter her, mouth not stopping for a second you were rewarded with a moan she let slip free. It only spurred you on to move faster.

A knock at the door startled you and you tried to pull away as panic rose in your throat, but Wanda’s grip kept you where you were and you watched as she cleared her throat prepared to lie effortlessly.

“Wanda hun, you in there?” Agatha’s voice floated through the door and right before Wanda replied you added an extra finger to hear her squeak. “Uh yes Agatha, just looking for uh some trays in the boxes I’ll be back in a jiff”.

“Want some help in there?” The door knob wiggled as Agatha asked, but unbeknownst to you Wanda had already taken care of that problem. “No no it’s alright, I’m- uh. I’m all good in here Agatha”. You could feel Wanda clenching around you and you silently willed the other woman to leave and let you hear her moan for you.

“Okay hun, see you out there” you heard her heels shift as she turned from the door, “be right there, I’m just coming” the innuendo couldn’t be missed, not with the way you could barely move your fingers. “Fuck I’m coming” that one was whispered just for you. You looked up and saw Wanda staring down at you, glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Ruby lip caught between teeth.

“Such a good girl, keep going. I’m almost there” she was naive to imagine you’d stop. Not when she was about to come in your mouth. And she did, with shaking thighs and a silent moan. Nails digging into your scalp deep enough that you winced into her.

You tried to keep going, but she pulled your hand away with your wrist, dragging you to your feet as she put your fingers in her mouth to clean them up. “Mmm you’re way too good at that sweetheart. I can’t wait to repay the favour”. The thought of Wanda’s mouth on you had you grinning at her, but that abruptly ended when she fixed her panties and pulled her dress back down. Laughing gently at your pout.

“Soon baby, right now we have more cookies to sell so grab those trays and get your cute butt out there”

And she was on her way, you knew she was going to get you into a lot of trouble.