#because the more i write the more i realize

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Older"

ok yall! i couldn't stop thinking of neglected Reader falling for Clark Kent, so instead of writing a new chapter of "I bet on losing dogs" I wrote an AU!!! Batfam's neglect stays till reader is 18, Tiffany isn't exposed till later. I got kinda carried away tbh! Remember, THIS IS AN AU!!!! Ya'll aren't ready for this plot actually. Or who really steals readers heart. Thank you to the wonderful anon who sent me down the rabit hole of this man. Reader is 18 when the romance actually starts.

When you were younger, you had always idolized Superman. Clark Kent, the unassuming, nerdy reporter with glasses, was a far cry from the intimidating presence he became when he donned the cape. You first saw him when you were 9, during a charity event your father had taken you to. At first, you thought he was just another well-dressed man who smiled too much. But then, when he lifted a car to save someone from an accident, you felt something shift in your chest.

That’s it, you thought. That’s what I want. I want him.

From that day on, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he saved people with a smile, how gentle his voice was. You’d daydream about being near him, holding his hand, his deep blue eyes looking down at you with affection. But Clark never saw you that way. To him, you were always just Bruce Wayne’s little girl—the kid he barely knew.

Maybe it was a result of being neglected by every man in your life that made you so feral for Clark Kent. Maybe it was the fact that he was the only person you knew who didn't prefer Tiffany to you. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, he'd never feel the same.

So, you pushed your feelings aside.

Or at least you tried to.

You’d flirted with boys before. You’d flirted with grown men. With your powers, you needed an outlet, a way to let go of your frustrations, to feel good. You lost your virginity only days after gaining your powers. It felt amazing, during those moments you were in control of your body, the pain went away, the neglect went away and you were loved.

But nothing had ever been like the times you found yourself in Clark’s presence. At 16, you’d started testing the waters, teasing him with subtle remarks. You’d gotten a little bolder in your attempts over the years, but he always brushed them off as playful jokes.

"Don’t you think you’re a little young for me, kiddo?" he’d chuckle every time you got close.

You hated that. He saw you as a kid. That was it.

But you didn’t stop. Because you were determined.

And by the time you turned 18, the world around you had shifted. You had grown into someone new, more mature, more confident. Your body had changed. Your personality had changed. But Clark... he still looked at you like you were that little girl from all those years ago.

It hurt. But you told yourself, Just be patient. It’ll come around. I just need more time.

You soon realized time was too long. Clark would never see you as anything more than a kid, he literally had children your age. He was old enough to be your father. His youngest son had a crush on you and Clark is a good man. He would never consider you romantically.

You couldn't keep chasing after another unrequited love. Not after years of chasing your family's. Not after years of being pushed aside for an imposter who always outsmarted your attempts to expose her.

You wanted to move on. To leave everyone behind.

And that's what you did. There was no dramatic breaking point, no emotional stand-off. You were looking out your window one day and you realized you've done nothing. You've never been happy, never once truly happy, you lived for everyone but yourself. Not anymore. One random sunny Tuesday, the summer after you graduated highschool, you packed up and left everything behind, no goodbyes. Not even a note for Alfred. None of them deserved it.

You were tired, tired of chasing people.

You wanted to be chased and that's what you got. Every week it was someone new, your professor, your friends, your boss, anyone who was attracted to you, you slept with. It was so freeing. It was euphoric, making them fall in love, leading them into your bed, then kicking them out as soon as the next one came along.

The only thing that you truly loved now was music, it was all that got you through years and years of mistreatment. No matter what happened in the manor, you could turn your headphones on and forget. You could grab your guitar and strum your worries away.

College sucked. Long ago, you would've pushed yourself to go, even though you hated it, just to make your family proud. To chase approval you would never get. Not anymore, you knew you needed a degree to make a living, but a gap year never hurt anyone.

You began working as a singer in different bars. It let you write songs and make money. There was nothing more addicting than feeling eyes on you, enchanted by you. Your voice was magnetic, drawing people in, and like any good predator, you feasted on their hearts and left as soon as they stopped inspiring you. Yet, no matter how good-looking or good in bed they were, they would never be Clark.

One night, after a few months of your reckless, self-destructive pattern, you found yourself in a dimly lit bar on the outskirts of Gotham, a place where nobody would recognize you. You weren't gonna sing, not tonight.

You weren’t here to find love, you weren’t here to talk or connect. You were here to forget.

The clink of glasses and low murmur of conversation surrounded you, but it was the figure in the corner that caught your attention.

A man with a commanding presence sat alone at the bar, his back straight, eyes locked on the dim-lit television above the counter. His hair was peppered with gray, but there was something ageless about the way he carried himself; tough, confident, dangerous. The eyepatch over his right eye only enhanced the mystery, adding a cruel allure to his already intimidating presence.

You couldn’t quite place why you were drawn to him, but the moment you saw him, a spark ignited. Slade Wilson. He worked with Bruce somehow one time, everyone hated him, even Clark. You remembered him because he was the only man, other than Clark, not to fall for Tiffany's charm and that was a win in your book.

You’d heard of him in passing, mostly in rumors—whispers of a deadly mercenary, a ghost in the shadows of Gotham, a man you wouldn’t want to cross. But here he was, sitting like a predator in a place filled with prey.

You weren’t afraid. You never were. You’d been raised in the shadows of Gotham, after all, with men who didn’t even know how to love you. You’d seen dangerous men before. You knew how to handle yourself.

You sauntered over, taking a seat next to him, your movements casual but purposeful. He glanced at you briefly, his lips twitching into the slightest of smirks before his eyes returned to the screen.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked, leaning into the counter, placing your drink beside his.

His gaze flicked toward you again, this time a little longer. There was something predatory in the way he sized you up, assessing your every move. "Not at all."

You smirked, tilting your head slightly. "I’ve been told I’m a good time."

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, but it was cold, calculated. "That so?"

You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped briefly to your lips, but he didn’t let his attention linger for long. He took a long sip of his drink and leaned back, unbothered, as though you were nothing more than another fleeting distraction.

You were used to this, the indifferent types. But you weren’t going to let him slip away that easily.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who spends his nights in places like this,” you said, turning towards him with a sly grin. “I imagine you’ve got better places to be.”

Slade didn’t look at you when he responded, his voice low and smooth, like gravel being ground underfoot. “I’m where I want to be.”

You laughed, the sound rich and teasing. "So, what does someone like you do for fun, then?"

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, and then he finally turned to meet your eyes, the weight of his gaze making your stomach flutter for reasons you couldn’t explain. "Fun... isn’t what I’m here for."

You let out a slow breath, leaning in a little closer, just enough for the scent of his cologne to hit you, something spicy, with a touch of danger.

"Then what are you here for?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You could see the muscles in his jaw tense slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he met your gaze head-on, his lips curling up ever so slightly at the corners.

"Business."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Business, huh? I love business."

“I'm sure you do” he said cryptically, but his voice was thick with unspoken meaning.

The tension between you was palpable, electric. You couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward him. It wasn’t just his looks, though they were undeniably attractive in their own gritty, dangerous way. No, it was the way he carried himself, like he was someone who could destroy everything in his path if he wanted.

You weren’t intimidated, though. If anything, it intrigued you more.

You leaned closer, the warmth of your body pressing against his, your breath hot against his ear. “So, what do you do when business is done?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just stared at you, his eyes hard and calculating. And then, before you could react, his lips brushed against your ear, his voice low and dangerous. "You don’t want to know."

You shivered at his words, at the heat of his breath, but you were beyond caring. You were tired of being the one who was always desired but never loved, the one who always chased but was never caught. Tonight, you wanted to be wanted, and you wanted him to want you more than anything.

"Maybe I wanna find out" you breathed, your hand sliding down his arm.

His hand shot out like lightning, grabbing your wrist before you could make contact. His grip was firm, but not painful—just a reminder of his control, of how easily he could break you if he wanted.

“Not tonight,” he murmured, voice rough. "Not the way you think."

You stared at him, uncertainty flickering in your gaze for the briefest of moments. You had gotten used to men not wanting you the way you wanted them, it was all you knew growing up. But now things were different with your abilities. This wasn’t the first time someone had pulled away, but with him, it felt different, like he was holding back, just as much as you were.

You smirked. "What makes you think you can stop me?"

His lips curled again, this time with something darker in his eyes. "Because I’m the one who calls the shots."

A challenge. A warning. And for some reason, that only made you want him more.

Before you could react, he stood up, his hand lingering on your wrist for just a beat longer. "If you’re serious about this, I’ll be at the back exit in thirty minutes."

Then, without waiting for a response, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the bar.

You sat there for a moment, staring after him, the heat of the moment hanging in the air between you.

You weren’t sure whether to follow or not, but you knew one thing for certain: tonight was going to be a night you wouldn’t forget.

And so, you found yourself standing outside in the cool night air, your heart racing. You hadn't planned for this, but somehow it felt inevitable.

When you saw him again, waiting by the dark alley, it was clear this was a man who didn’t let anything slip through his fingers. And tonight, you weren’t going to let him slip away either. You approached him, your steps measured and confident.

He didn't speak immediately, just gave you a slow, knowing smile as you came closer.

This wasn’t the start of a love story. This wasn’t about feelings or connections. This was something darker, something more primal.

This was a game. And you weren’t sure if you were the predator... or the prey.

But you were ready to find out.

The cool Gotham air settled in your lungs as you closed the distance between yourself and Slade, your heels clicking softly on the pavement.

He stood by the alley entrance, leaning casually against the brick wall, his figure lit only by the faint streetlight behind him. The shadows clung to him like a second skin, making his presence feel like an almost dangerous secret—something you weren’t sure you were ready to unravel, but damn, you were more than willing to try.

Slade didn’t say a word as you approached, his one visible eye catching yours with that piercing, unreadable stare of his. You knew that look. It was the same kind of look your father gave you when he had to make tough decisions, when he saw things for what they truly were. Cold, calculating. But this? This felt different. This felt like a challenge. And you were more than ready for it.

“Still think you can handle me?” His voice was low, but it had that same teasing bite, as if he were daring you to prove him wrong.

You were close now—too close for comfort, but you didn’t care. You stepped into his space, the heat of his body now radiating against yours, his scent filling your senses. “I don’t need to handle you,” you murmured, your lips barely brushing his ear as you leaned in. “I think you need to handle me.”

There was a flicker in his gaze, something almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make your pulse quicken. He didn’t move away, didn’t flinch like others would have. If anything, the air around you both seemed to crackle with intensity.

“Is that what you think this is about?” Slade asked, his voice rougher now, as though the control he so carefully maintained was slipping just a little. “You’re not the first woman who’s come to me thinking they can make me want them.”

You were sure he was referring to Tiffany, there was no way a man like him ever forgot a name or face. Knowing he knew who you were and knowing he didn't care made you want him more.

You smiled, feeling that familiar rush of excitement surge through your veins. It wasn’t about making him want you. It was about making him need you.

“Maybe,” you said, leaning even closer, your lips almost touching his. “But I’m the first one who might actually make you lose control.”

For a heartbeat, you could have sworn the world around you stopped. Slade’s eye darkened, the intensity in his stare shifting from challenge to something sharper. More dangerous. But there was something else in his eyes now. Something that made your heart race faster than you cared to admit.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a force that had your breath hitching in your throat. The familiar spark of danger lit up your skin, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let your body melt into his, feeling the pulse of raw, untamed power that radiated off him.

“You think you can push me?” he growled, his voice like gravel, each word like a warning and a promise all at once.

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you let your fingers trail across his chest, feeling the ridged muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Your touch was deliberate, slow, each movement a calculated game of power.

“Maybe I want to push you,” you said softly, your breath a whisper against his neck, “until I break you.”

The grip on your wrist tightened for a split second, his muscles flexing with controlled restraint. For a moment, you wondered if this was where it would end, that he’d push you away, tell you it was all just a game. But when he finally spoke again, his voice was thick with tension.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Slade murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for.”

You let out a breathy laugh, your body pressing even closer to his as your lips hovered dangerously close to his own. “Maybe I don’t,” you whispered. “But I’m willing to find out.”

Slade didn’t move for a long moment, just holding you there in that thin space between danger and desire. And then, finally, he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with the force of someone who had been holding back far too long.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a brutal, desperate collision of mouths, a clash of power and need. You could feel the tension in every muscle of his body as he claimed your mouth, his hands gripping your arms, his touch insistent and almost hungry. But you didn’t break, didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him back just as fiercely, hands roaming up his chest to grasp the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer.

For a second, you wondered if this would be the point where you lost yourself to the heat of the moment, but the longer you kissed him, the clearer it became that this wasn’t just about passion. It was about control. About testing boundaries.

And you were willing to play that game, because you were ready to win.

As the kiss deepened, Slade pulled away suddenly, his breath ragged, eyes darker now with desire and frustration. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to someone who didn’t give in.

“Not so easy, is it?” you whispered, your voice rough from the kiss, your body still pressed against his.

He glared at you for a moment, lips curling into a knowing smirk, the kind of smirk that made you feel like you were dancing on the edge of a knife.

“You’re not the first one to test me, Slade said, voice low and dangerous, his hands sliding down your arms with intent. “But you might be the first one who wants to."

Slade didn’t pull back, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm, but his gaze never left yours. His hand, still gripping your wrist, was no longer a force of restraint; it was an anchor, a silent promise of just how far this could go.

The weight of his stare sent a shiver down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was from anticipation or something deeper, something darker that he carried with him, but you felt it in every inch of your body. You weren’t here for games anymore, you were here because you wanted this. You wanted him.

But there was more to it. Something about the way he held you in his gaze told you that, for once, you weren’t in control. Slade Wilson was a man who played by his own rules. And now, you were learning the cost of trying to break them.

He released your wrist with slow precision, letting his fingers linger over your skin for just a second longer than necessary. You could feel the heat of his touch as he took a step back, eyes darkening with a new kind of challenge.

“You really think you’re the one calling the shots here?” His voice was low, rough, as though it had been soaked in whiskey and smoke.

You weren’t about to back down now. You smirked, leaning into him again, almost too close for comfort. “I think I’m just... along for the ride.”

Slade’s lips twisted into something dangerous, a mix of amusement and something else, something far more raw. He took a step toward you, crowding your space, his presence suffocating in the most exhilarating way.

“Not sure you know what that ride entails,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, sending another shiver down your spine.

“I’m starting to,” you replied, reaching for him, but this time, you didn’t touch him the way you had before. You trailed your fingers slowly, almost teasingly, down his chest, feeling the firmness of muscle beneath the fabric.

Slade didn’t stop you. His body stiffened, though. Just enough for you to feel that tight pull of control he was holding onto. It only made you want him more. You pressed a little closer, your body brushing against his in a subtle reminder that you were still in the game, too.

“I like doing things i'm not supposed to” you said, your lips grazing his ear as you spoke. “And I think you do, too.”

He stiffened at your words, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, you thought you saw something flash behind his gaze—something far more primal than the cold, calculating predator you’d come to know.

Slade’s hand shot out, gripping your chin with surprising gentleness, forcing you to look up at him. The control was unmistakable in his hold, yet his eyes… his eyes were like a storm just about to break. “Don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

“I never said I did.” Your voice was steady, confident, even though the truth was you didn’t fully know what this was. But you knew what you wanted, and right now, it was him.

He searched your face, his gaze intense, like he was deciding something. just as you thought he might break, he leaned in, closing the gap between you both.

His lips brushed against yours, barely a touch, but enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. For a moment, it was almost like a game of cat and mouse. He was holding back, just enough to make you ache for more.

His lips moved to your ear, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “You should walk away now. Because once this starts, there’s no going back.”

You leaned into him, your breath shaky, but your resolve unwavering. “I never look back. Not anymore.”

Slade didn’t hesitate. His lips crushed against yours with an urgency that felt like a storm breaking free. There was no softness. It was rough, driven by something savage, and it made you lose your breath as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

You felt his hands on you, strong and sure, pulling you into him, his grip possessive in a way that made your pulse race even faster. You let him guide you, let him take the lead—because, for the first time in so long, you didn’t need to be the one in control. You didn’t want to be.

That night, Slade Wilson made you forget about every other man in your life, even Clark Kent.

For the next three weeks, you and Slade continued game of cat and mouse. Every other day, you would go to a bar to play and he would somehow appear in the crowd, like a sailor lured by a siren.

Yet everytime, in the morning when you woke, still hot after the previous nights activities, Slade Wilson was nowhere to be found.

You knew he was too old for you, too rough and unstable, but he could be kind at times, when he wanted.

And he was fun.

And you're sure your family would have a joint aneurysum if they found out.

It was fun until one night, he didn't find you.

Two months later, nothing changed. No word from your 'family' asking where you were, only Alfred's weekly check up, and Damian's insufferable posting of him, Tiffany, and the rest the family having fun without you on Instagram. He didn't even bother to block you.

No word from Slade either, yet you still hoped he would show one night. Seems like you had a thing for men ignoring you.

But tonight, something felt electric in the air.

Slade’s shadow stretched across the dimly lit bar, his presence pulling every ounce of warmth from the room. You hadn’t seen him in two months, not since he’d walked away without a word, leaving you to pick up the pieces of everything. You’d told yourself you didn’t care, that his absence meant nothing. But seeing him again, standing there with that predatory stare of his, you couldn’t help but feel the heat rise in your chest.

You were busy, sure, singing and flirting, giving the crowd exactly what they wanted. But you couldn’t ignore the sudden heaviness in the air. The way the music seemed to fade as his eyes locked onto yours from across the room. The same gaze that had always made you feel like you were his—like he could take whatever he wanted and leave you with nothing.

You kept the smile on your face, tossing your hair over your shoulder, a flirtatious laugh escaping your lips as you tossed a wink at one of the men leaning against the bar. You could feel Slade watching you, not just with his eyes but with every inch of his body. He hadn’t come to listen to the music. He didn’t give a damn about the crowd or the drinks. He was here for you.

And he was pissed.

He approached you with slow, deliberate steps, his frame imposing, his eyes cold with that familiar edge. When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble, almost drowned out by the noise of the bar, but it cut through everything like a blade.

“Well, well, well… look at you, darlin’. Didn’t take you long to move on, huh?”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your head high. ��Didn’t realize I needed your permission, babe.”

He ignored the jab, his lips twitching in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Haven’t seen you in two months, and this is what I come back to? You’re out here playing with the other boys now?”

You didn’t flinch. “You didn’t exactly leave me with much of a choice. You were the one who disappeared, remember?”

Slade's gaze hardened, and before you knew it, he was right in front of you, close enough that his breath stirred the strands of your hair. He leaned down, his voice dropping low, rough. “You really think you can just forget about me? Move on with them? Cute little act you've got going, sweetheart, but I can see right through it.”

You pushed back, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just having fun. I’m living my life, Slade. You should try it sometime.”

His smirk curled, but there was no warmth in it. “I don’t need advice from you. And I don’t give a damn about your ‘fun.’” His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a brutal grip, pulling you closer. “Where’s your old man? Where’s your daddy been? What about your brothers? Do they even know what the hell you’ve been up to?”

The sharpness of his words cut deeper than you wanted to admit. Slade always knew how to hit you where it hurt, and he wasn’t giving you any room to breathe. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped, but the defiance didn’t reach your voice the way you wanted it to.

“Funny, that’s what I thought you’d say.” He released your wrist, but not before giving it a firm squeeze. “I already know what’s been going on with your family. They’ve been too busy holding onto their precious Tiffany, haven’t they?”

You flinched at the mention of her name. Everyone knew Tiffany was the golden child, the one your family had actually cared about. The one they’d all protected, even when she turned out to be the one using them. You’d known for a while that she was a spy, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Slade’s eyes glinted with that sharp, calculating look. “You knew what she was doing, didn’t you? All this time, she was playing them like puppets, and now they’re gonna come crawling back, pretending they care. They’ll be looking for you soon enough, you know. Guilt’s a hell of a thing.”

The words sank into you, twisting painfully. You hated how right he was. Your family had always been so focused on Tiffany that they hadn’t noticed how you were slipping through the cracks. And now, with her gone, they were going to realize their mistake. They were going to come for you, but it wouldn’t be because they cared. It would be because they felt guilty.

Slade took a step closer, his hand lightly grazing your cheek, the touch cold and commanding. “They’ll come running for you when they realize what they’ve lost, sweetheart. But don’t fool yourself. It won’t be about you. It’ll be about guilt. About making things right because they fucked up. But you know better than anyone, those kinds of people always forget when the next shiny thing comes along.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. “What do you want from me?”

His smirk widened, his fingers trailing down your jaw with a casualness that made your skin crawl in a way you couldn’t quite explain. “What do I want from you, sweetheart? Maybe just the same thing I’ve always wanted. But let’s be clear: I’m not here to save you from them. Hell, I don’t even know if you want saving.”

You glared at him, feeling the bitter edge of your own anger. “Then why the hell are you here?”

Slade's eyes softened for a brief second—just long enough to make you wonder if this was something more than just a game to him. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the moment was gone, replaced by that familiar coldness. “I’m here because you’re a hell of a lot smarter than they’ll ever give you credit for. And you’re not stupid enough to think you need them. You know they never cared, not really.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat. He was right. You did know it, deep down. You’d always known. It stung, more than you cared to admit, but you were done being angry about it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing just below your ear. “When they come, and they will come, you can show them what it feels like to be abandoned. You can make them feel just how you felt. But don’t think for a second you can do it without me.”

You didn’t respond right away, your heart pounding in your chest. He wasn’t offering you a way out, he was offering you a choice. A choice between playing the victim to your family’s guilt, or standing beside him as he carved his own path. Neither option was a clean one, but something about him made it feel like the one you’d always been meant to choose.

Slade stepped back, his eyes scanning you as if he was trying to figure you out. “You’re not like them, sweetheart. And you’re not gonna let them walk all over you. Not this time.”

You finally met his gaze, the anger and frustration swirling in your chest. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Slade grinned, that predatory, dangerous grin that made you feel like you were in over your head. “Oh, I know more than you think.”

Slade’s presence was suffocating, his shadow looming over you like something darker than the night itself. He’d always had that effect on you, but tonight, with the way he leaned in so close, his words cutting through the air like daggers, you couldn't help but feel a chill creep down your spine.

His eyes never left yours, not for a second, his smirk tightening as if he knew exactly how to push every button. "You know, sweetheart, you always think you’ve got everything figured out, don’t you?” His voice was soft, dangerous, like a whisper in a dark alley. “But you’ve been running from something for a long time. Something you can’t hide from anymore."

You felt your heart beat a little faster, but you refused to show it. You’d dealt with him long enough to know that showing weakness only made him more dangerous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Slade’s gaze slid over you, dismissive yet calculating. “I think you know exactly what I mean. But let’s not play coy here. You used to be close with Jason. Back when he was alive, at least. You were a team, weren’t you?”

The mention of Jason made your stomach twist, but you clenched your jaw and forced your face into something resembling indifference. You refused to let Slade see you hurt. “What about it?”

“Nothing, just... funny, isn’t it?” Slade’s lips curved into a grin that made your skin crawl. “You two were close. But then, Jason died, and who was left? The family? They couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to you. They didn’t notice when Tiffany came around, and they sure as hell haven’t noticed since.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the truth hitting a little too hard. But you kept your composure, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much it stung. “What do you want, Slade?”

His eyes softened just enough to make you think for a second that he might’ve been telling the truth—only for that same grin to return, sharper than before. “What I want? You're not getting it, sweetheart. It’s not about me. It’s about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out just how much of this conversation was manipulation. And how much was something more... personal? The tension between you two was so thick, it felt like it might snap at any moment.

Slade took a step closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve been wasting your time, haven’t you? Hiding behind that bar, singing, flirting with men who’ll never understand you. You could do so much more than this, you know. You’ve got potential.”

He said the word like it was something sacred. A promise or a curse, you couldn’t quite decide.

You shook your head, taking a small step back. "I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me what I can and can’t do."

Slade’s eyes darkened, his smirk turning predatory. “Oh, I think you do. I think you want to know. Deep down, you’re craving someone to show you how to unlock it. Your powers. Your real potential. You want something bigger, something more than this.”

Your pulse quickened, and a sickening unease washed over you. How the hell did he know about your powers? How much did he really know? The idea that he’d been watching you from afar, or worse, had been tracking your every move, made your skin crawl.

You tried to push that thought away. “I don’t know what you think you know about me, but you’re wrong. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Slade studied you for a long moment, his gaze never faltering. He was evaluating you, and you could feel the weight of it pressing on your chest. When he spoke again, his tone was almost... too calm, too casual.

“Let’s be real here, darlin'. You do need help. You’ve got power, and I’m not talking about the small-time tricks you’ve been playing with. You could be so much more. But you're stuck. Trapped in this little life you’ve built for yourself because you’re too afraid to face what's really inside you.”

“Why are you even here?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the edge was starting to creep in. You wanted answers, and you wanted them now. “You disappeared for two months, and now you’re showing up like you know everything about me. What’s your game?”

He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his figure blocking the dim light above you. “My game? I’m not here to play games. I’m here because I’m offering you an opportunity. An opportunity to stop hiding from yourself. To work with me. To really figure out what you’re capable of. I’ve seen the way you move. The way you think. And I know you’re capable of so much more than this little bar. But you’ll need training. You’ll need guidance. My guidance.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver that ran through you. He was offering you something, something you didn’t quite understand, but the implication was clear: he wanted you to join him. To work together.

But there was something... off. The way he was talking. The way he seemed to know everything about you, the things you hadn’t told anyone, not even yourself.

“How do you know all this?” You demanded, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to sound confident. “How do you know about Jason? About Tiffany? About whats happening to me?”

Slade’s grin widened, a strange glint in his eyes as he leaned in, almost as if savoring the tension. “There's nothing I don't know. I know more than you think. But here’s the thing: you don’t need to understand everything right away. You just need to trust me. Trust that I know what you need. And trust that I can give you what you’ve been searching for. What they could never give you.”

His words were like a knife, each one digging deeper. “I’m not asking for your loyalty. Not yet. But think about it, yeah? I’m offering you something bigger than this... this place, these people. I can offer you something real. Power. Freedom.”

Your eyes were still locked with his, but your mind was racing. You couldn't stop the unease creeping through you. There was a part of you that wanted to know what he meant. Wanted to know how far your powers could go. Wanted to trust him, even though everything in your gut told you not to.

“And what about Clark?” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself. “I’m supposed to just... forget about him too? You don’t think I notice? You think I’m some naive little girl who doesn’t know what’s going on? You think I can't see you using me? Trying to groom me?”

Slade’s eyes flickered, just for a moment, before his lips curled into a snide smile. “Clark.” He scoffed. “The big, shiny boy scout with all the answers. I wouldn’t worry too much about him. You and I both know how far that age gap really stretches. He’s too good for you, always will be.”

He took a step closer, his eyes glinting with something dark. “But me? I don’t need to pretend. I know exactly what you need. And I won’t keep running from it like your little superhero friend. I’m offering you something real, and you’re smart enough to see that.”

His words, sharp and possessive, lingered in the air. You swallowed, your throat dry.

“I’ll think about it.” The words came out more breathless than you intended, but Slade didn’t seem to mind.

“Good girl.” His tone was sharp, like an order, but there was something more in it, something possessive, like a claim. He reached out, his fingers brushing your arm as if he had every right to touch you. And the worst part was, you didn’t pull away.

“Don’t take too long,” he murmured, his lips close to your ear. “I’m not the patient type. And when I come back, you’ll have an answer. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”

You hated how that sent a chill down your spine.

OKKKKKK WHAT DO YALL THINK??? IS IT GOOD??? BE HONEST!! I BARELY KNEW WHO SLADE WAS BEFORE THIS SO IT MIGHT BE OOC! REMEBER THIS IS AN AU! SORRY IF THERE'S TYPOS I WROTE THIS ON MY PHONE IN BED. I FEEL LIKE IT SUCKS SO I MIGHT TAKE IT DOWN AND NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!!!!

[kianamaiart]

Hey hey! You’ve probably been asked this a lot but what made you want to start creating I Don’t Want To Be A Magical Girl?

Also I drew Akia in my style!

Hope you’re having a great day btw ! :0)

First of all this is so rad!!! I loooove how you drew her

And what made me want to make I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl... It was a lot of things! (im assuming you mean the pilot in general)

The idea started off as a stupid doodle/character design practice. It wasn't gonna be anything more than that. I just felt like drawing a cute character with a gun really hahaha.

It's not a particularly original premise and I didn't plan to do anything more with her (as I do with most of my ocs/designs). But I actually did really like this one and couldn't help but think of little ideas and scenarios with her. Things started ramping up in my brain more when I realized I could attach a personal story and personal experiences to it to make it feel less cliche. That's when I started designing the other characters and coming up with bios and stuff

And then that was gonna be it again. I'd maybe do a comic here and there but there was a combination of things that happened that led to me jumping in and making a pilot.

First of all, I had a two month hiatus coming up so I had so much time. I also decided to step down from my directors position to be a board artist again in the coming season. So I really wanted to get some storyboarding practice in and what better way to do that than with this character I ended up really liking? I also don't have a portfolio and I'd been wanting to make something that's very me rather than my work from an existing show.

I'd offhandedly mentioned to my editor at disney that I wanted to do a board for these characters and she told me she'd help me make an animatic if it ever came to that. I couldn't pass up that opportunity! Now, since it was gonna be an animatic and I didn't want it to just be my scratch, I reached out to a bunch of VA friends to see if they'd be interested and they were!

Then other than having that support, just seeing my friends work on their own personal projects has been really inspiring and made me want to also do my own thing! Me and my friend group had just made a whole video game for our friend as a bday present which was so creatively fulfilling and made me realize like "oh my god we're artists we can literally just make stuff".

In the past I'd been so afraid to share my original work and for similar fears I've never wanted to showrun despite having the opportunity to pitch. While it's flattering to be wanted there was this pressure that felt like "oh you HAVE to make something, you're wasting your talent otherwise." (lol this is ironically the thesis of idwtbamg). And as a qpoc, i'd felt this extra layer of pressure to have to make something perfect on all fronts because if i fail in any capacity, i'm failing my community. it'd just be another another reason for people to say "ah queer media and work centering poc just can't succeed." then on the other end, i can only do and write what i know and feared that other people in my community wouldn't resonate with it or would feel like it's inaccurate to their own experiences.

but that's an exhausting way to feel and i've finally decided for myself that i'm just gonna tell stories that are authentic to me and it will reach whoever it needs to reach~ this realization was kind of the final step i needed to push myself to go all in. and now we're here!

[edisacornball]

I'm a writer on ao3 with a 208k beast of a story that has *checks notes* 663 kudos on it, so a little bit more than the kudos of the example, but still... I can't say enough how much I do not want this. I think it's a more popular concept among readers than it is writers.

I honestly hate how much the site culture is already ruled by kudos. People sort first by the number of kudos. They ignore fics because they don't have enough kudos. And trying to make sure you get enough kudos to not get ignored is... already exhausting. It's a whole thing of making sure to post at the right time so it'll get seen, and then the next 24 hours basically determine how successful the fic is going to be based on the kudos it gets. There's people gaming the system and doing all kinds of tricks already. It's the most social media part of something that very much should not be social media.

I don't write fics because I want to try and get as many likes - I mean, kudos - as I can. I don't want to care about kudos, but I have to. And I really worry that if people could leave extra kudos, it would mean getting even less comments than I do already. Less views. More gaming of the system. The stats would go wack, you realize. People would have that one friend who spent a whole day clicking to give them 500 kudos. Which is sweet, but then other people would feel like they need to do the same for their fic to stand a chance. Some people wouldn't be able to do that anyway. The site would be overrun with kudos overnight. The kudos economy would have massive inflation. The site could end up crashing like a ddos attack just from the kudos flood.

Ask any author on ao3, and it's pretty much unanimous that while we still love getting kudos, we pretty much always love comments more. Authors don't get notified when you leave kudos. You know what they get a notification for? A little comment that just says "extra kudos!!! ♥" You don't have to say anything else! I promise, the writers like that!

It's really sweet you want to show writers more love, honestly. But it's a bad idea that would have a lot of consequences. There's a reason you can't leave extra likes on Facebook, Instagram, or even Tumblr. We don't need extra kudos. Please.

i wish ao3 allowed people to give kudos per each chapter. These 100k word NOVELS need more love than 200 tiny digital hearts ☹️

[fanzou]

Hi!! could you write about sanji dating someone whose old partner only cared about their own happiness (sexually and non sexually) and she starts believing thats how a relationship is supposed to work. sanji shows her it’s not supposed to be like that

Spoil Me!

✗ Pairing: Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: Sanji shows you how to be selfish for a change.

✗ Total WC: 4.4K

✗ CW: Angst, Reader being in a manipulative relationship before Sanji, SMUT, Sanji calls reader lots of pet names, Reader cries in good and bad ways (let me know if I missed any), fluff, Nami smacks your butt (my personal favorite part)

✗ A/N: I always see this prompt with other writers and got super anxious just cuz it could get angsty, but I feel that I did somewhat of a good job with this. I’m happy with it! So… enjoy, and thank you so much for this request!

It’s been 2 months since you and Sanji had established yourselves romantically.

Ever the romantic, Sanji had always done things different with you. Everything was equal, everything was amazing. Everything felt right in his mind. You’d help him with the dishes, you’d help do his laundry, hell—sometimes he’d let you help prepare his favorite dishes with him to serve to the crew. Of course, there had been a select few things that were off limits, like paying for the bill, which he always had you covered, it was but a friendly gesture. You’d return the favor the next time you guys went out, even if he almost fought the waiter about it. (You couldn’t help yourself!)

When it was absolutely pouring and Sanji saw you hadn’t brought a coat in preparation, there was no hesitation in giving his up for you, but you insisted that you and him could both get underneath the coat like an umbrella, and he swore he fell in love with you all over again right then.

Even though he always liked the idea of being the one to take care of his partner, this was something different, something new. He’d grown to appreciate it—the equal friendship you’d shared. And when he realized his new and profound love for you, he felt unstoppable. Suddenly he wanted everything to do with you, and less to do with anything else. It was like he was attached to your hip. Wherever you went he wasn’t so far behind.

So it was a surprise to no one when you both finally decided to get together. He was ecstatic, the smile on his face couldn’t be wiped away for days.

And then it came crashing down.

exhibit A.

You’ve done this 3 nights in a row.

“My heart, you don’t have to worry about the dishes tonight, okay? I’ve already washed and dried them all, just get some rest.” You kiss his cheek and walk away, presumably to your room.

When the door closes, he finally settles back into reality, what he experienced could only be described as shock. He thought it was just a coincidence the first two nights. Maybe you just wanted to go to sleep a little earlier, but Sanji can’t help but feel a pang in his heart. Though it might seem like a boring little chore to an outsider, there was something that filled his heart about being able to do the dishes with you. It was so much more intimate. There was something about being side by side with you, talking and chatting about how your day went, asking you about the crew, if you did anything special that day. It was the little things for him, and he couldn’t relish in his favorite part of the day because of whatever reason you wanted to finish the dishes as early as possible.

You laughed into his shoulder while he told you something funny he encountered that day, “Sanji, that’s crazy!” Your laugh was so bright. Oh, how he loved to hear your sweet laugh, and this was one of those moments he could relish in it with no disruption.

Another time, you’d tease and get some soap on his cheek and he’d rebuttal by getting you a little wet. He giggled at your gasp and put down the wet dishes for a second and put his wet hands around your hip. You didn’t mind, never. You grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss while his hands soaked your shirt and pants. It was absolute heaven to him, and he didn’t want it any other way.

Surely he hadn’t done something wrong, that had to be impossible. Given your body language, and the way you leaned into him, everything was fine on his part.

He turns around and twists the door knob to the kitchen to follow you to your room, and makes a quick turn to your door.

He opens it and there you are, already dressed in your night gown, ready to sleep. You look exhausted, he looks at you in what you can almost make out to be a pitiful expression. “Is everything alright, sweetheart?” He walks towards you carefully and lifts your hand into his, and contrary to your tired expression, he can tell you try your utmost to keep an enthusiastic attitude, “Of course! There’s nothing to worry about. You should go to bed Sanj’.” You squeeze his hand, “I don’t want you to be tired.”

A silence falls, until you continue, “Something bothering you? Do you want me to come to bed with you? So you can sleep?”

Even though you meant well, and to anyone else it would seem thoughtful— the words you had uttered were far from reassuring to him.

exhibit B.

It was a special day, a very special one. Something that you almost didn’t want to celebrate, for whatever reason, but with the way it made Sanji so happy to be able to participate in, you couldn’t help but let him have it.

“Happy Birthday!” The crew says in unison. They just got done singing the most off beat and terrible rendition of what they thought was the happy birthday song, and you loved it. the three layer cake was decorated in the most gorgeous pink you had ever seen. Complimented by pink pearls on the sides with what you can only assume to be the most attentive detail, prepared by your one and only. It was thoughtful, almost so thoughtful that there was a guilt forming in your stomach. Nami picks some frosting off the top and swipes it onto your nose, to which you cutely stare at the middle of your face. She licks the residue off her fingers and in satisfaction, she yells to the cook, “Wow Sanji, this is amazing!” His smile softens when he hears her words. “I’m almost jealous. Where was all this for my birthday?”

“Now hurry up and cut the birthday girl a slice before I eat this entire thing!” Luffy exclaims, and everyone is quick to start arguing with him. “Don’t you dare, you idiot!” Nami yells.

You can only laugh, “My slice? That belongs to Sanji!”

The commotion comes to a silence and everyone looks at you, most of them with confused expressions or blank one’s. Sanji doesn’t understand what you meant, and neither did the others so you continue, “It’s important that he gets the first slice, I almost feel bad that I made you prepare such an amazing cake, I couldn’t possibly be the first one to eat it.”

There was an awkward silence, but he decided to break it. “Darling… it’s your cake. I made it especially for you.” You thought about it for a moment, long and hard, before a memory came back to you:

Y’know I bought this cake for you, so it’s only fair that I get the first piece. A bit selfish of you to try to hog it all up, sweetheart. A woman should always serve her man first, ever heard of that? The voice rings through your ears and you shudder.

You scratch your neck and look off to the side, “I was always taught that it was bad manners for me to take the first slice, please Sanji, would you do me the honors?” You look a little nervous to even be saying that. The swordsman answers before he or anyone else can, “Bad manners? Never heard that one before.” He says before taking a sip of his drink. It would be completely unlike Sanji to ever participate in such a tradition, it would be no exaggeration to say that it made him mildly uncomfortable. But because of the way you look at him with pleading eyes, albeit hesitantly—he cuts himself the first piece, and then the rest for everyone else.

“Alright!” Luffy licks his lips. “Let me know if anyone doesn’t finish theirs!”

“I hope you enjoy it, my love.” You say to him with your hand cupping his face. His eyes widen for a split second.

He doesn’t miss the sad look in your eyes.

exhibit C.

This was something you couldn’t do very often with being on the waters almost all of the time, and when you were on ground there was always a quick and rising conflict that had to be dealt with, so it was difficult for you and your lover to get some alone time.

And the restaurant was absolutely fabulous, violin music playing in the back, the red and orange lights that illuminated the environment were calm and not overbearing, they were dimmed just right to fit the seductive atmosphere that you and Sanji both basked in. The food was amazing as well, something he couldn’t say about many restaurants. He wasn’t crazy about this island, but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t some great food here.

“You look beautiful, dear. This dress is absolutely perfect on you.” Sanji says simply, but it dusts a blush on your face, one that he wishes he could see, but the ambient light does good to mask it, much to his disappointment. He liked leaving you flustered. “You look handsome, but you know that.”

“I like to hear it from you. ‘Makes me feel like I’m the luckiest man alive.” He purrs. You don’t miss the way his feet glide against yours, and the hungry look he gives you.

Like he almost wants to take you then and there. And suddenly the mood changes—from romantic to sexual. There’s a certain glimmer in his eyes that you want to get familiar with, but this is a restaurant, and he had enough food. “I think we should get out of here, my love.” Not taking his gaze from yours, “I’m hungry for something else.”

“I paid the bill already, baby, so we can bounce whenever you want.” You say with an eagerness in your tone, trying to match his energy.

Sanji looks nothing like he did a second ago, he’s confused and almost surprised, sad and angry all at the same time. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. He didn’t want you to pay, that’s far from what he wanted you to do. He wanted to pay the bill, and then take you to the nearest hotel and make you feel special. “What do you mean you paid?” His tone is stern now.

“Sanj’, I was taught that it was bad manners to have a man— y’know… pay… ‘cause they do all the work. Y’know? And…” you continue, but Sanji cancels your voice out for a second. You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, you don’t want to look at him anymore, in fear of what he would say to you. You thought you had done the right thing but it probably wasn’t enough to keep him satisfied.

It’s all the same.

Honestly, he didn’t care about whatever bullshit manners anyone’s ever taught you. It’s something that he didn’t approve of. Sanji digs his hand in his hair, he’s frustrated. He loves you, he really does. But this is suuuuch a turn off. As a friend he could take you paying the bill after his countless times doing so, despite his absolute reluctance in letting you do it. It was much more different now that you were finally together. He didn’t want to be upset with you, perhaps you misunderstood, that was all. Your anxiety grew as Sanji stayed quiet, you could tell he was frustrated and you didn’t understand why. No worries, it’s nothing you hadn’t seen before.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll make you feel good tonight if you’ll let me?” You say with hopeful eyes, and his gaze finally meets yours, but you quickly realize that it’s not enough to satisfy his needs, he just looks at you with a pitiful expression like he had the other few instances you suggested something like this. “My love… if you’ll let me be honest. I don’t really care about whatever dumb manners you had to learn growing up or whoever ingrained those dumbass ideologies into your pretty little head.” He takes your hands, “You’re with me, and I want to be able to make you feel like the most special girl alive.”

You were nervous, and you felt like your nails digging into your palm were bound to break through skin soon, you chewed anxiously on your bottom lip with your brows furrowed. Should you tell him? The last couple weeks of establishing your relationship was nothing short of a fantasy, but you didn't let yourself enjoy it like you wanted to in fear of coming off as selfish.

Would you be able to get the bill this time, babe? I'm a little short.

Ahh, short again. Well I did buy you that one thing... So you can maybe think of this as your payback!

I do enough for our relationship. You can pay this time, don't be greedy.

"Sanji..." you trail off, looking down at your lap once again, "The last guy I was with, he insisted that I did every thing, but the more I'm with you the more that I realize that it was probably very unnatural, to do everything for him. And I'm sorry, but I'm just now learning that." a tear trickles down your cheek. "I'm learning to unlearn this stuff, and I need your help."

He's no longer frustrated, but he can hear his heart break in his chest.

"I'll be here with you, my love. Every step of the way."

the breakthrough

It’s pushing 90 degrees today on the Sunny, and it goes without saying; everyone and everything is hot, scorching even. On days like this, or, who was he kidding? Any day, Sanji will whip up something to help the ladies feel better about any nasty weather they’re in, and while you three bask in the sunlight in your guys’ bikini’s. He loved the sight. And he most certainly hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all day.

You sported a 2-piece, the bottom half barely covered by some unbuttoned jean shorts and because of how hot it was out, there was a thin layer of sweat that coated your form which helped accentuate every curve of your body. He watched from a distance for most of the day, almost avoiding you in fear of pouncing on you in front of everyone. You were so sexy, and he almost felt perverted like this.

He had brought over some drinks for you and Nami and Robin to help somewhat alleviate the heat you had all felt, and you three thanked him kindly, but you noticed that same glint in his eyes, the same from the night at the restaurant. A super-duper mischievous one, and you promised you’d familiarize yourself with it. You wanted so desparately get up and take him to your bedroom and let him have his fun-- but you stopped yourself, like Sanji wanted; you to enjoy your time with the girls and not to worry about anything he was making in the kitchen, what he had to clean up, that fun stuff.

“He’s practically devouring you with those eyes he’s giving you.” Robin speaks, and it leaves you a little embarrassed, laying your head down onto the beach towel, he hasn’t been so discreet about the way he was ogling you.

“Yeah well, ‘second I’m done with this drink we’ll see where it takes us.” The girls giggle, and you clink your glasses together in a silent cheers. In truth, you were nervous, but you did well to mask it. “He’s one lucky guy!” Nami says, playfully smacking your butt.

-

Finally, he has you all to himself.

You guys are making out in his bed, and he’s so hard he could die. You’re palming him through his shorts and he moans into your mouth. “Fuck, baby.” At this point your jean shorts were easily discarded onto the floor while he slowly but surely makes his way to untying your bikini. He wants it all off. And he’s not shy about it. “Finally.” He makes work of untying your top piece, and you get lost in pleasure. Your tits are even prettier than he thought, and he licks your bud before starting to suck on it. You already feel your heat pooling through your lower piece. “Th-at feels so… so good Sanji. Yes…” You’ve never felt so sensitive, but with the way Sanji was attacking your breasts all while caressing your hips, coupled with the heat, it felt like so much at one time.

Before you get lost in the absolute euphoria that is Sanji, you become aware of one fact,

This simply just isn’t about you. Those words ring like a bell in your head in the midst of the pleasure, and what kind of girlfriend would you be if you let Sanji do all the work? It was so selfish of you to let yourself think that you could relish in this. After all, it’s all about him. Only, about him.

Women aren't even meant to cum, so don't get ahead of yourself sweetheart.

Trying to push away the thought, you softly cup your hand around his cheek and bring him to your lips to assert yourself.

“This is about you.” You quickly straddle his hips and grind on top of him and he groans at that, craving the new friction you gave him. you looked sexy like this, but he wanted this to go his way this time.

In an act of complete rebuttal, Sanji flips you around and you yelp, he lets out a breathless laugh “Yeah, right.” You’re on your back now, and he spreads your legs. He keeps his eyes on your cunt, looking down at it deliciously, and finally he starts stroking it through the only fabric left on your body, up and down with his thumb. You can’t help but let out a moan, this was new, you were used to being demanded--but not in this way. “San…ji… this isn’t fair to you, ba—”

The audible groan that comes out of him was loud and proud. “So tired of hearing that come from your mouth.” He gently moved your underwear to the side and started rubbing your bare clit. “You know what I think is bad manners?” He looks at you, “When I can’t make you feel like the princess you are.” You can’t help but moan, it was obvious you weren’t used to this kind of treatment.

When he presses your thighs against your torso, you're almost shocked, you assume that he’d start to pull his pants down and have his way, but instead, his head comes down to meet your cunt face to face, he pressed kisses on your inner thighs and the sight is so very romantic, you feel so selfish, so very selfish.

It feels amazing.

When his tongue takes its first long swipe across your cunt, it felt dirty, and sooo good. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in and not long after he started his attack on your clit, lapping and sucking on it like a madman. “Sanji… yes.” You moan his name over and over coupled with some curses, and his hands grip tighter onto your thighs. His squelching and sucking, the sounds are so lewd, and you can feel his drool mixed with your juices trickle all the way down to the mattress. The image would forever be ingrained into your head, it was too perfect.

Sanji starts prodding into your cunt with one finger, and then inserts another, scissoring and fucking them into you while you shake under his wrath. “That feels so good, more, pleaseeee.” He meets your gaze and you want to melt at how he looks at you; like you were his lifeline. You feel a knot form in your stomach, something almost unfamiliar to you. You couldn't remember the last time you had an orgasm unless it was from your own fingers.

“Wanna see that pretty face when you cum on mine.” And the fact that he would be the reason behind it made him only hungrier. "I can't... Baby... It’s so much. I think I might… ohhhhh…." Your mix of Sanji's and Fuck's and Yes' only grew breathier and more demanding. "Cum on my face, please, yes." He begs you and his tongue goes faster over your clit.

When you finally bust, you can only mutter a "Mmmmmmmyesssss" with a heaving chest that followed suit, hips grinding into his tongue so you could ride out your orgasm. Your face was in absolute bliss, eyes squinted, brows furrowed, and mouth a little opened from how good it felt. It's almost too much for you, he gives your cunt a few more licks before getting up and massaging your thighs with his thumbs.

"Did that feel good, princess? I'm sorry if it was a little rough." He comes down to your lips and gives you quick kiss.

"Please fuck me Sanji. I need you inside of me, please."

Who was he to deny his princess?

He kisses your lips again while making quick work of the tied knot on his shorts, he didn't even realize how hard he was until he took his shorts off, cock still in his briefs.

Sanji takes off your stretched out underwear and throws it on the floor once and for all, and his own meet yours soon after.

His cock was very long—8 inches, if you had to guess. Curved upright, and it was beautiful, but you'd be lying if you had said that you weren't a little afraid of taking it. Luckily he catches your gaze and he smiles, "You nervous, princess?"

"Just a little bit..."

"Don't be, I'll take it slow." Had you not spilled to him that night about your failure of a previous relationship, he would've taken you for a virgin the way you trembled looking at his dick. He couldn’t begin to imagine the pain and frustration you had endured in your previous relationship, telling him about how he never let you cum and only sought to chase his own pleasure. He was willing to change that, and right now—he’d be damned if he said the way you look at it didn't turn him all the way on. "Watch it go in. Trust me my love, it's not that bad."

You listen and nod, and you watch with him. He lets it slide across your pulsing heat a couple times before he lets his head slowly slide in, he's biting his lip and lets his own line of curses come out of his mouth. When he's about half way in, another breath you didn't know you were holding lets itself out, and another inch, and another, until he's all the way inside, and saying you felt stuffed was really an understatement.

He takes the back of your knees in your hands and spreads them a little further, he starts moving slowly and you both let your sighs of pleasure out.

He starts to pick up his pace when you ask him to, not too quick but steady enough for you to feel every detail of his cock graze your insides. Because of the heat, it's not long until you're both covered in sweat.

He can't help himself, he comes down to kiss you again and talk you through the moment.

"I'm so lucky to have you."

"You're the prettiest woman I've ever met."

"You look so perfect right now."

The praises were too much and you felt insanely spoiled, something you've never felt before. The slapping of skin, the closeness you felt to him, his cock steadily coming out of you, only for it to stuff you full over and over again. The way he kept his eyes on yours, it was so much. And before you knew it, tears ran down your cheeks, ones of pleasure and joy--you couldn't tell which was which.

"I love you so much, S-Sanji."

He kisses your tears away, "I love you more, princess. You're doing amazing." Kisses your lips, but not for too long as he doesn’t want to mask your beautiful sounds.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby. Are you gonna cum soon? I wanna see it again.”

Now, Sanji’s thrust are sloppier but a little more harder, you can tell he’s probably going to approach an orgasm soon along with you.

“Y-Yes. Ohhhhhh fuuuucckkk~”

“You take me so well, princess. You were made for me.” The clapping between your bodies gets louder, and you try your hardest to bury yourself into the pillow from how good it felt. “Look at me.”

You obeyed, like you always do, even though he looks disheveled; mouth covered in juices and spit, there’s beads of sweat running down his face, he really loves this moment with you.

“Tell me you love me” he says.

“I love you.” His thrusts are inconsistent now, but he’s still hitting the same spongy spot inside of you.

“Again.”

“I love you, Sanji. Ohhh, shit.”

“Again.”

“I love you so much! So, so much! I’m gonna cum again! Mhhh!”

And just like you spoke, you came all over him, it hit his chest, his balls, thighs, and all over the mattress, and he fucks some of it back into you while he follows you in reaching his own orgasm.

Before he can, he pulls out of you and releases the hot white liquid onto your stomach, stroking his dick til there was nothing left in him to give.

Completely disregarding the fact that he just came all over your stomach, he collapses onto you and joins you in almost synchronized breaths. “That was… amazing…” you managed to say. “Thank you so much.”

Sanji rolls over and pulls you onto his chest, “You deserve everything and more, that was only a fragment of how much I appreciate you, sweet thing.”

To his surprise, you get up from your position and look at him. You scan his body and come to one conclusion, “I should probably clean you up a bit.”

He wants to roll his eyes, but instead he takes your arm and yanks you down with him in the same position you were before. “If I’m gonna be dirty, I’ll be dirty with to you. But if you wanna take a bath with me, that’s a different story” once again, that mischievous undertone in his voice is something you can’t miss.

You’ve still got a long way to go, but he’ll be there with you through every step.

[munson-blurbs]

We're a month away from Valentine's Day and I was hoping/begging for you to write something very heartbreaking or angsty with Eddie, maybe something where she finally has the courage to confess her feeling for him and he rejects her for another girl who's prettier and cuter. Idk I just want to cry and feel sad on Valentine's Day, please ❤

TW: hurt/no comfort, dead dove don't eat, best friend!Eddie, rejection, angst, Reader wears a dress, smut (18+ only, minors DNI).

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

“Can I ask you for a huge favor?”

Eddie Munson turned from the TV, eyes wandering to keep an eye on the screen as Shelley Duvall swung her bat at Jack Nicholson. “Shoot,” he said through a mouthful of popcorn. 

This was it. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to say the words aloud. 

“I know you hate dressing up…and school…and, well, people,” you started, relief flooding your chest when he smiled at your joke, “but I was hoping you’d go with me to the prom? As friends,” you hurriedly reassured him. 

His smile faltered, butter-greased lips forming a grimace. “The prom? Seriously?” Eddie blew out a breath. “You do realize I’ve made it through almost six years of high school and never once went to those stupid dances.”

“I know. It’s just…I can’t go alone. The school has that antiquated rule about needing a date.”

“You should tell them to suck it.” Eddie tossed a piece of popcorn in the air. It missed his mouth, bouncing off of his chin and landing on the floor. “Just show up solo. It’s not like they’ll kick you out.”

God, just the thought of it—the humiliation of being turned away at the door, your beautiful dress all for naught—sent a preemptive flash of heat through your veins. 

“Please, Eddie. Think of it as paying me back after all of the times I let you copy my homework.” 

He sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. But only because you’re my best friend, and it would kill me to watch you moping around the place for the next two months.”

Without thinking, you flung your arms around him, nearly knocking over the popcorn bowl in the process. But as soon as he hugged you back, you couldn’t be bothered to care. Everything just felt so right when he held you. 

Just last week at Hellfire, he’d slung an arm over your shoulder and congratulated you on casting the fireball that defeated the demogorgon. You’d practically leapt out of your skin at the weight of his forearm against you, fighting the urge to thread your fingers with his. How natural it might be. 

That longing grew even stronger as prom night approached. When you picked out your prom dress, you couldn’t help but twirl in front of the mirror and imagine Eddie’s hands on it. Every conversation about corsages and boutonnieres sent a giddy wave rushing through your body. 

The moment that left you spinning was when Gareth teased Eddie about slow dancing. You expected Eddie to launch a pretzel across the table, aimed squarely at Gareth’s forehead. Instead, he blushed. 

Blushed. 

“Shut up, man,” he grumbled. “You know I don’t do that shit. If I can’t headbang to a song, it’s not even worth listening to.”

You spent the rest of lunch imagining swaying to a slow beat, Eddie leading. His lips would brush against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine, as he murmured something about how beautiful you looked. 

Then his lips would travel down your jawline, placing kisses in a trail to your own mouth. And everyone else in the decorated school gym would fade into the background, shrouded in a haze that kept you and Eddie in your own world…

Except you were going as friends. Friends. Nothing more. You had to remind yourself of that fact, had to shove down the burgeoning hope that kept rising to the surface. 

Eddie’s van stuck out among the Beemers and limousines that filled the high school parking lot. It didn’t matter to you; it never did, not even when the engine backfired or the axles squealed. So long as Eddie was your date, you didn’t care if you’d pedaled to the prom on a tandem bicycle.

Green, white, and orange streamers hung from the gym ceiling, brushing against the matching balloon towers every so often. A band played some song from the sixties that your parents played on their record player, though you couldn’t quite place the tune.

“This already blows,” Eddie mumbled, snaking a hand through his curls. “You really owe me, y’know that? This is worth much more than homework answers.”

You bit back a snarky comment. Tonight was a special night. Maybe Eddie just needed time to enjoy it. To appreciate it. To appreciate you, in your off-the-shoulder floral dress with your makeup styled just right.

He loosened his bowtie the second he sat down for dinner: some baked chicken and wilted lettuce leaves that constituted a salad. Perhaps not the best way to convince him that the prom was worth his time.

“I need a cigarette.” He blew out a breath and stood up, the chair screeching behind him. “Let me know if I win Prom King.”

You offered a weak smile at his joke and watched him walk away. He’d be back soon, with plenty of time for a slow dance. And maybe even tell him the truth about why you’d asked him to be your date.

Eddie, I like you. I’ve liked you for a really long time, and I want to be more than friends.

Simple and straight to the point. If only he’d come back from smoking that damn cigarette.

After fifteen minutes of no Eddie, you took matters into your own hands. 

The late May evening still held some warmth to it as you pushed open the double doors and walked outside, ready to ask him–beg him–to dance with you.

“Eddie, shit, someone’s coming.”

You whipped around to see Eddie–well, part of Eddie. Specifically, his ass. His slacks were pushed down, the belt clanging as his hips thrusted into one of the cheerleaders. Her own dress was hiked up around her waist.

“S’fine. Just be quiet, mmkay?” Each word was punctuated with a gasping breath. “God, you’re so tight. So good.”

No. No. It couldn’t be…he was there with you…

“Didn’t you bring a date?”

“She’s just a friend–oh, fuck, I’m gonna–”

Just a friend. Brutal honesty, not a lie, and yet it stabbed you like a knife in the heart. Your breath flew from your throat, and you clapped a hand over your mouth before anyone could hear you cry.

Just a friend. Just a friend. Just a friend.

From outside, you could still make out the band playing a slow song. Maybe the one you and Eddie would be dancing to if he wasn’t burying himself inside of a gorgeous cheerleader. There was no way you were going back into the gym. Not with your makeup streaming down your face. And you certainly weren’t going to stick around and wait for Eddie.

Instead, you plucked your heels off of your feet, grounding your feet into the sidewalk, the cool cement letting reality seep in. Walking home sounded lovely compared to any alternative. 

Just a friend.

The words echoed in your brain with each step.

Just. A. Friend.

That’s all you were. All you’d ever be to him. You weren’t the girl he’d kiss and whisper sweet nothings to. You weren’t even the girl he’d have sex with behind the gym.

You were just Eddie Munson’s friend.

--

[sparkingoverload]

I’m suddenly feeling inspired by a Captain America Batman plot bunny. You see, Peggy Carter (in most interpretations) worked with the OSS and their British counterparts. I may never write it (especially since I was more of an Iron Man fan when I was into the mcu) but it’s fun to metaphorically pet the bunny and think about the plot.

Obviously, Alfred is a retired spy, who in teaching his charge (Bruce) and his charges (Batkids!) life skills, semi-accidentally taught them tradecraft too. So, WWII happens and they’re all spies, contemporaries of (or somewhat younger than) Peggy. Alfred gets recruited to train more spies. Probably. It’s classified.

Jason is probably embedded with resistance groups, teaching them ways to make infrastructure go boom as well as apply the lessons on sabotage in that book.

Barbara, the all-knowing Oracle has to be a code-breaker.

Tim (17) claims to be Cass (19)’s twin on paper. They’re a team and between her ability to read anyone, his ability to charm anyone, and their combined skills in stealth and disguise, they’ve been in and out of So Many Secure Areas. So Many.

I have no clue what Steph is doing, but she’s doing it with Flair. Maybe she’s a nurse and just keeps stumbling into zany situations that require her to use her natural charm, fighty tendencies, and what interesting selection of skills she picked up from Alfred and the Wayne’s while maybe-dating Tim.

I didn’t mention Dick, because either he or Bruce is on the homefront, running a Justice League analogue group that works to co-ordinate across countries and departments and other groups and acting as Damian’s guardian. (if I ever actually wrote this it would probably be Damian centric, a sort of “here’s a story one of Damian’s siblings told him and here’s how he applied the mentioned skills/lessons/morals himself” duology thing) If Dick is on the homefront, Bruce is out co-ordinating small strike teams. I think if Bruce is staying with the JL analogue then Dick gets to assassinate people. As a treat. (I promise I did not forget Duke! He’s coming!)

Damian (13) is ecstatic about being an only child again for like five minutes before he realizes he misses his siblings. Then he’s pissed about an inability to do anything, having to move out of Wayne manor to quarters closer to whatever facility his guardian’s working out of, he misses his pets, he misses Alfred, he is never going to admit it but he’s lonely. And bored.

Except! People keep trying to sabotage the JL analogue, so it’s up to Damian and his new friend Duke Thomas to apply the lessons his siblings taught him and that are referenced in his copy of the OSS’s Field Manual and save the day!

Duke Thomas (15) works in the motorpool either as driver for all the bigwigs co-ordinating with whoever Damian’s guardian is, or as an apprentice auto mechanic. He did not expect being the youngest and lowest guy on the totem pole to mean being relegated to babysitting duty, and he really didn’t expect babysitting duty to see more enemy action then all the other motorpool jobs combined.

…I think the ideal medium for this would actually be a period comic that’s at least 30% propaganda. And I haven’t even mentioned Captain America.

Funny about that...

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ in the act (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

you and yunho are roommates. he never comes home early, except for the one time he does and catches you in the middle of touching yourself and moaning his name.

style: bullet drabble

pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

tags/warnings: smut, pwp, masturbation, porn, fingering, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk, degradation / use of slut *affectionate*, praise, guided orgasm

notes: so enough people said they were interested in some bullet-style drabbles and smutty drafts for all the ideas i have but don’t turn into full fledged fics. this has been sitting on my computer since the start of me writing ateez fic… so you can think of this as a summer nights alternate version. please enjoy! more to come.

[masterlist]

You and Yunho have been roommates for almost a year, and he was a total stranger when you met him. He was looking for someone to take over his spare room after Yeosang moved out and in with his girlfriend, and you couldn’t afford rent on your own and begged him to take a chance on you.

Over the year you’ve become friends… slowly and steadily

But you’re not an idiot, he’s gorgeous and funny and charming and if you’re not careful you might get a crush on him (or have a crush already)

You’re also completely oblivious to the way he watches you. His eyes tracking you when you cross a room, lingering a little too long on the curve of your ass, the flash of cleavage when you bend over, even the soft cushion of your stomach when you wear tight clothes. He’s frankly trying to not be hard whenever you’re in the room.

It didn’t start out like that, it started out like normal roommates and despite how attractive you were, he wasn’t looking for anything. But then you were funny and clever and infuriating in all the right ways and he just…. can’t stop thinking about what you would look like riding his cock.

And then there was that one time he walked in on you in the shower.

But you had laughed that off, he had laughed that off, truly there was nothing to even talk about because he didn’t see anything it was just a funny accident.

Only he did see a little - and the image of your pert, dark nipples dripping with suds has been his tried and true mastubatory moment for months now.

So when he gets home from work a full three hours early and the apartment is suspiciously quiet, he thinks you probably just went out for a mid-day coffee or ran an errand.

What he doesn’t expect is to walk past your bedroom, with the door wide open, and see you spread out in the center of your perfectly made bed with hand under your panties and your t-shirt pushed up high enough to expose one breast, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you rub yourself, hips jerking into your hand.

You have headphones on, that’s the second thing he realizes, you have no idea he’s here.

And then you say it, a murmured pant of his name.

His cock stiffens up instantly and he jumps back from the doorway. He really didn’t mean to see so much or frankly wait so long to move away, but with the way you were panting, moaning softly, a blush over your chest…. the way he knows you’re thinking about him…. his brain admittedly stopped working for a second.

So he fakes coming home again, shutting the door harder than before and calling out into the apartment, trying to be loud enough that noise-cancelling headphones wouldn’t be enough to completely block out the announcement of his unexpected homecoming.

He drops his boots heavily, keeps talking into the apartment like he’s narrating his day, and then finally he hears the frantic sound of sheets and covers and your laptop snapping shut.

You sound so breathless when you respond, trying to make him believe you woke up from a nap but you can’t get up, you’re half naked and a mess and your door is open

And for a split second Yunho thinks of just giving you your space and letting this little incident pass by without notice, but he can’t because now he’s heard what his name on your lips sounds like and he needs to hear it again

So he shows up in your doorway and for a second he just teases - “How was your nap? Were you having a dream? You look flushed,”

But finally after stuttered attempts at recovery and clenching your thighs together under the covers he just says it - “So, you’re going to stick with the lie? Or are you ready to admit you were masturbating and moaning my name in the middle of the day?”

For a few moments it’s like a stand off… you don’t know how much he saw or what to admit to or if it’s better to laugh it off and tell him he’s hearing things….

But then - “You could have just asked me for help,” he says, a teasing smile on his lips, “but I’m here now,”

And it starts off tentative, Yunho peeling back the covers to get a good look at your body once you tell him you want him, and he doesn’t hide how hard this is getting him at all.

He’s vocal, verbal, and telling you every little thing he’s going to do to you, all the while teasing you for holding out on him so long.

“You must really want my cock if you’re crying out for it while you rub your slutty little clit, huh?”

“How long were you touching yourself? An hour? And you still couldn’t cum, but thirty seconds of my fingers and you’re squirming in the sheets? Oh, you are down bad,”

“Ride my fingers, pretty girl, show me what you like,”

And when you go dazed, dizzy and eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fingers rubbing you, pumping inside you, he snaps his fingers with his free hand - “Focus up, slut, you want to cum don’t you?”

Clenching on his fingers, slicking all over his hand

And he talks you through it when it hits you hard

“You gonna come for me? Yeah you are, that’s it, come on slut, come for me, so wet and messy knowing I caught you, so dirty, so pretty for me, there we go, come on,”

And you’re whining, begging him to get you there, so dizzy and aching

But the minute you start to cum he softens, praising how good you look, sounding so pleased and proud of you in a way that scratches your desperate subby brain just right

You need him to carry you through it, something you’d do yourself with ease, but he picks up on it immediately, watching your desperate, teary facial expression

“Oh, I got you,” He pumps his fingers deep, soothing you with his tone, “let go, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, good girl, that’s my girl,”

By the time you come out of it, it’s to Yunho’s kisses across your thighs, his hands spreading you open wide, “Gonna make you cum again, baby, you sound so good for me, so gorgeous for me,”

Your fingers laced in his hair

His hot tongue

Your aching, pulsing pussy brought to the absolute brink

And Yunho babbling into you as he eats at you, sucks you, kisses and caresses you -

“Wanted to do this for months,”

“Dying to touch you, baby,”

“Want you wrapped around my cock”

He takes you through two more heady orgasms before he kisses you on the mouth for the first time, before you find yourself both naked and rocking your bodies together

Need and pent up desire just taking you both under

Until you’re trembling in the afterglow, no more teasing now, only quiet confessions of how long you’ve both dreamt of this.

After that, you sleep in his bed every night.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　STURNIOLO'S GO TO THE SUPERMARKET

nate doe x sturniolo sister!reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, younger sister of the triplets and Nate's girlfriend, participates on the 'Sturniolo Triplets go to Europe' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I'm so sorry for my writing on this one, I feel like I'm doing horribly these past fics ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The car hummed softly as Chris maneuvered through the Burger King drive-thru lane, his hand resting lazily on the wheel. Matt sat in the passenger seat, holding the camera aimed casually toward the rest of the group while Nick sat directly behind Chris, leaning forward slightly to catch glimpses of the menu ahead. Nate was behind Matt with his arm draped comfortably over Y/N, who was nestled between him and Nick.

"You getting your apple pie, babe?" Nate asked, his voice low as he turned his head to Y/N, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over her shoulder.

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with mock offense.

"When do I not get my apple pie?" She quipped, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"Fair point." He said, chuckling, his pearly teeth making an appearance. Nick, overhearing, snorted.

"She’s literally more predictable than Chris when it comes to Pepsi." Nick teased, earning a playful nudge from Y/N.

"You're just jealous." Y/N shot back with a grin, sticking her tongue out at her older brother.

"Yeah, okay." He replied sarcastically. "Jealous of having a partner who steals half my fries every time we eat."

"Nate, blink twice if you need help." Chris chimed in, earning laughs from Matt.

"She doesn’t steal them." Nate answered Nick, purposefully ignoring Chris. "She claims what’s rightfully hers."

Y/N snorted as Matt turned to face the camera, raising an eyebrow.

"This is what we have to deal with every time we come to Boston, folks."

When they reached the intercom, Nick leaned forward with a gentle smile, his tone dripping with kindness.

"Hi! How are you?"

Y/N looked at the woman from above Nick's shoulder, quickly joining in.

"Oh, you’re the pretty woman who got our orders last time!" Her voice sounded warm and cheerful.

The woman on the other end chuckled.

"Back again, huh? Can you just... just give me one second?"

"Of course, no problem!"

As they waited, Nick turned to the rest of the car, holding up his phone.

"Okay, Matt, you’re getting two plain cheeseburgers. Nate, two plain cheeseburgers with pickles. Chris and Y/N, one plain cheeseburger each. Everybody’s getting fries. Chris wants a Dr. Pepper, Nathan wants root beer, and you’re splitting it with Y/N. Matt, you’re skipping soda. Y/N, you want an apple pie."

Everyone stared at him for a beat before nodding in unison.

"How do you remember that every time?" Nate asked, meeting Chris’s eyes through the rearview, widening his as if asking 'how crazy is he for that?'.

"Because none of you have the courage to make your own orders." Nick retorted smugly, folding his arms.

When the woman returned to the speaker, Y/N jumped in to help Nick relay the orders, letting him list the items while she clarified little details, like, "No ketchup on Matt's burger, please", and, "Yes, we want mayo packets".

Once it was finalized and paid for, they pulled forward, settling into a comfortable buzz of conversation while waiting for the food, the sound of Chris's fingers tapping the steering wheel with a rhythm only he could hear echoing as background noise.

Y/N leaned back against her seat, a realization look crossing her face.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you guys." She started, her voice soft but filled with excitement. "I talked to Breanna this morning. She’s so excited about the wedding. And honestly, the way she talks about Ryan..." She trailed off, shaking her head with a soft smile. "She just sounded so in love. It’s the sweetest thing. You can tell how happy they make each other. It’s amazing."

Nick nodded quickly, letting his phone fall from his hands to his lap, turning to Y/N.

"True! I texted her yesterday, and she told me about how Ryan's been so involved with the wedding planning." He commented. "I can't wait to see the decor-"

"I was the knight in shining armor in your-" Chris cut Nick's trail of though, singing a song that, apparently, was on his mind the whole day, showing how little attention he was paying them.

"Chris." Y/N interrupted sharply, rolling her eyes before looking at Nate with a 'is he being serious right now?' look. "Shut the fuck up. That’s the fourth time today."

Chris spun around in his seat dramatically, almost hitting Matt's hand still holding the camera.

"You shut the fuck up."

Before Y/N could fire back, Nick cut in, groaning loudly.

"Can you both shut your gay mouths, please?"

Chris cackled at Nick’s deadpan delivery.

"Nick, don’t call me that with your gay mouth... unless you want me to kiss you on that gay mouth."

"Great, now I forgot what I was saying." Y/N leaned back, sighing loudly.

Nate laughed at them, exchanging a shake of head with Matt while pulling Y/N closer.

Before long, their food was handed through the window, bags crinkling as Matt took them from Chris and carefully distributed everything while the youngest triplet found a space to park.

"Okay, who’s plain cheeseburger with pickles?" Matt asked, holding up a wrapper.

"That’s me." Nate said, taking both burgers with one hand while the other stayed firmly holding the cup full of Dr. Pepper.

As they began unwrapping their food, Matt reached over to steal a fry from Y/N’s box - which she had out on the car console, earning him a swat on the hand.

"Touch my fries again, and I’ll start charging you rent." She warned, narrowing her eyes.

The conversation turned light and casual as they ate, filled with the usual teasing and laughter, with comments directed to the camera. Between bites of her burger, Y/N turned to the group.

"So, are you guys excited? Milan, first fashion show, Prada? Kind of a big deal."

"Are you kidding?" Matt said, wiping his hands on a napkin. "It’s insane. I’m still trying to figure out why they invited us."

"Because you’re their model now, Matt. And they obviously also love Nick and Chris. Do you realize how many gifts you three received from them just in the last three months?" Y/N replied matter-of-factly.

Chris shrugged.

"She’s not wrong. I mean, we’re kind of a big deal there."

"She's right." Nate nodded, noticing that she had just taken the last bite of her cheeseburger. "Matt will be a real model in no time."

His hands were quick to leave his own second burger on top of his legs and pick Y/N's apple pie from the car console, opening the packaging carefully before taking the crumpled wrapper from her hands and tossing it into the paper bag at his feet, finally handing the sweet pie to her.

A bright smile stretched across her face, directed at him, silently thanking him before taking a bite.

"And I'll be waiting for Sebastian Stan's autograph."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The bright fluorescent lights of the supermarket reflected off the aluminum cart Matt was pulling, the squeaky wheels occasionally echoing down the empty aisles. The five of them walked together, Chris holding the camera and making sure to record everything.

"All we need to think of is what we’re eating tonight, and then we’re leaving tomorrow." Nick said to the camera, his tone matter-of-fact.

Y/N, holding Nate’s hand tightly, froze mid-step. Her eyes widened as she turned to Nick, her expression a mix of shock and disappointment.

"Wait, no! Is it tomorrow already?" She asked, her voice laced with sadness. Her lips formed a pout as she stared at her older brother, the reality that she just had a few more days with her brothers before they went to Milan and their routine went back to the usual - them in LA, her in Boston - hitting her hard.

Nick turned his head to her, softening at her expression.

"Yeah." He said, almost apologetically. "Tomorrow is Saturday already, so we’ll have breakfast, lunch, and maybe dinner, depending on how late we leave."

Her shoulders slumped slightly, her pout deepening. Nick sighed softly before stepping by her side, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him as they kept walking.

"Come here, sweetheart." He muttered, ruffling her hair gently with his free hand. "Don’t look at me like that. You know we’ll be back soon."

Y/N let herself melt into the hug, though the pout didn’t leave her face.

"I just don’t want to be away from you guys again." She mumbled. "It’s been so nice having you here for so long."

Nate watched them with a soft smile, his hands buried on his hoodie pockets.

"We’ll miss you guys, you know? It’s been fun having all of you back." He added.

"We’ll be back in no time." Chris lowered the camera slightly, his tone unusually sincere. “Let’s not think about that now, though. Let’s enjoy the rest of these days, alright? We still have the whole wedding together."

Y/N nodded reluctantly, her spirits lifting slightly as Nick gave her a squeeze before letting her go. Nate reached for her hand again, threading his fingers through hers and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

They turned into an aisle lined with shelves of sweet treats, and Nick perked up instantly, scanning the options.

"I think we should get powdered donuts or something." He suggested, pointing to a shelf. "You guys like those, right? And then we should get milk and cereal." He looked at Chris and Matt expectantly, but neither answered, both seemingly distracted by something on the shelf opposite them. "Yeah?"

Noticing the silence, Nate chimed in, chuckling.

"Yeah, Nick, I agree. Powdered donuts sound good."

Chris snorted at Nate’s answer, glancing up from the camera.

"Yeah, sounds good." He said, finally catching on. Matt nodded in agreement, still looking at the random colorful items on the right shelf.

Y/N looked around them, quickly spotting the sweet treat. She wandered a few steps ahead, grabbing a pack for her brothers. As she walked back toward the group, she glanced at Nate.

"Babe, do we still have powdered donuts at home?" She asked him.

Nate frowned, seeming to think for a second before shaking his head slightly.

"Nah, it’s almost gone. I think there’s like one left."

Y/N frowned thoughtfully, then turned back to the shelf to grab an extra pack, tossing it into the cart.

"Alright, one for you guys, one for us."

Nick watched her as she added the donuts to the cart, then turned back to the camera.

"Okay, so tonight, we’re going to make pasta with sauce-"

"I want Mac N Cheese." Chris interrupted from behind the camera, speaking over him.

At the exact same time, Y/N also talked, turning to them from a shelf full of cookies that she adored.

"If you’re having pasta, I’m having dinner with you again."

Nick stopped mid-sentence, looking between them with exaggerated annoyance.

"Alright, listen." He said, holding up a hand to stop any further interruptions. "We can get mac n cheese to eat tomorrow..." He compromised. "And you both can stay with us tonight." He added, looking at Nate and Y/N. "Deal?"

Y/N beamed, her earlier sadness momentarily forgotten.

"Deal." She said, happily observing Matt grabbing a box of Mac N Cheese from the nearby shelf and placing it in the cart.

Chris turned the camera toward her with a grin.

"The way she’s acting like this is some grand negotiation is crazy."

"Because it is!" Y/N replied, laughing as she moved to stand beside Nate again.

"Y/N’s just excited to spend more time with us." Nathan slid an arm around her waist, pressing a light kiss to her temple.

"She loves us too much." Matt teased, earning an eye roll from his sister.

"Can’t argue with that." Y/N shot back with a grin.

Nick resumed his walk, pulling the cart and making his way to the front of the group as they approached the refrigerated section. Without a word, he reached for the milk, sliding two cartons into the cart Matt was pushing.

"Milk’s in." He announced to no one in particular, already walking again, pulling the cart with him this time.

The others followed behind, their laughter and chatter echoing softly.

As they passed the hygiene products aisle, Matt - who was looking around while talking to Y/N and Chris - slowed his pace, his mischievous grin already forming as he placed his hands heavily on Nate’s shoulders.

"Hey, shouldn’t you grab some condoms, Nate?" His voice carried just enough volume to catch the attention of the rest of the group, quickly bursting into exaggerated laughter, reacting as if he was the funniest person in the world.

Nate froze mid-step, his face going red as a chuckle immediately erupted from his throat.

"Bro, what?" He choked out, his tone both incredulous and amused.

Y/N, walking beside Chris, immediately rolled her eyes, clearly used to Matt’s way. But instead of letting the comment slide, she crossed her arms and tilted her head with a sly smirk.

"Nah, we don’t need them anymore." She quipped, her tone light as if she was talking about the weather, keeping walking.

The air froze for a split second. Matt’s jaw dropped, Chris nearly dropped the camera, and Nick snapped his head around so fast it was a miracle he didn’t break his neck.

"Wait, what?" Nick blurted, his voice high-pitched and absolutely panicked as his wide eyes locked on Y/N.

Nate froze, blinking in confusion before looking at Y/N with a gaze that screamed 'you didn’t just say that', noticing the playful glint in her eye and the way she was trying not to laugh.

Matt, however, didn’t.

"Excuse me?" He shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "You’re kidding, right? You’re kidding!" He gestured wildly between the couple, his eyes going from them to the camera in Chris's hands and back, clearly unsure if he wanted them to keep filming or put the camera down and probably faint.

Y/N, unable to keep a straight face anymore, burst out laughing, doubling over as she clung to Nate’s arm for support.

"Oh my God, you should see your faces!" She wheezed, her shoulders shaking as tears of laughter formed in her eyes. "I'm not pregnant. We're safe. It was a joke, Matt! A joke!"

Nick groaned, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation.

"You are the worst." He muttered, though his lips twitched like he was fighting back a smile, shaking his head while returning his walk.

Chris exhaled a long, dramatic breath, trying to steady the camera above his trembling fingers.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked, his voice still tinged with lingering panic. "I almost had a heart attack, you know?"

Nate chuckled, nodding his head as he looked down at Y/N, who was still laughing.

"You’re trouble." He teased, his tone soft and affectionate, kissing her temple softly before nuzzling her hair, exhaling the fresh scent of shampoo from their shower earlier. "Pure trouble."

Matt finally straightened up, pinching his nose bridge with his fingers.

"You're not my favorite sibling anymore after that." He affirmed, shaking his head.

Still giggling, Y/N waved her hand dismissively.

"You’ll get over it." She said, sealing her lips with Nate's for only a second before walking toward Nick, leaving the others behind.

"Anyone want juice?" Nick asked over his shoulder, his attention already shifting to the brightly colored juice aisle.

"Lemonade!" Matt called out immediately, forgetting about what had happened not even 5 minutes before, spinning on his heel and heading down the aisle without waiting for anyone to answer.

He grabbed a single plastic bottle of juice, walking just some steps closer to the group before placing the lemonade bottle in front of his covered crotch.

"Come drink it, Nate." He said, wiggling his eyebrows and holding the juice suggestively.

Nate let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head as he looked at Matt and then at Chris, who was with a disbelief look on his eyes.

"You’re sick." He said, his tone dripping with mock disgust, waving his hand at the triplet.

Y/N, who had just turned back to pick some apple juice for her, froze for a second, her eyes wide.

"Oh my fuck, Matt." She muttered, running a hand through her face before glancing at the camera. "Well, my boyfriend’s boyfriend, everyone." She said dryly, throwing a pointed look at Nate, who was still laughing.

Nick, who was now at the cart putting some strawberry yogurt in, looked up sharply at Matt's figure approaching with the juice still in front of his dick, his face stern.

"Matt, put it down." He said, his tone that of an annoyed parent dealing with a disobedient child.

Matt laughed harder, but he did as Nick said, setting the lemonade by the yogurt's side with an exaggerated sigh.

"You guys ruin all my fun." He muttered, though the smile never left his face.

Their next stop was the cereal aisle, where Chris immediately zeroed in on a brightly colored box of cereal.

"Fruit Loops Rainbow Sherbet Scoops." He read aloud, holding up the box so everyone could see. His tone was a mix of awe and disbelief while reading the small descriptions.

Nick wrinkled his nose, looking at it over Chris's shoulder for a second without stopping walking.

"That looks horrible-" He began, but Y/N cut him off, her face lighting up as she stepped forward.

"No, shut up, it looks cute! I want it." She said, her excitement clear as she moved to Chris’s side to get a closer look at the box. She tilted her head as she read the description over his shoulder. "Wait, it cools your mouth? That sounds so cool."

Chris grinned, passing her the box.

"Alright, it’s yours, kid." He said, handing it over like it was a prized trophy.

Nick sighed, though there was a hint of fondness in his expression, his eyes meeting Nate’s, who just shrugged as if to say 'there's nothing you can do besides accepting it, bro, I've tried'.

"Fine, put it in the cart." He said, waving a hand dismissively. "But don’t complain to me if it tastes like toothpaste."

"It won’t." She said, grinning.

After that, he group made their way to the pasta aisle. The shelves were stacked high with every type of pasta imaginable, from spaghetti to bowties, and Nick was quick to reach for a box of rigatoni and a jar of vodka sauce, stopping in front of the cart and holding them up for everyone to see.

"Okay, rigatoni and vodka sauce." He said, looking around the group. "Do you guys want to get a different pasta shape, or is this good-"

Before he could finish, Matt’s voice rang out from behind the camera in an exaggerated baby tone.

"I want ice cream sauce..." His voice was so ridiculous that it was impossible not to laugh, and he immediately broke into a fit of giggles at his own joke.

Nick’s expression didn’t falter, his face a mask of pure boredom as he glanced directly at Matt.

"You’re so funny, Matt." He deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

"I’m kidding." Matt said between chuckles, zooming the camera in on Nick’s annoyed face before panning back to the group.

Nick turned back to Y/N and Nate, ignoring Matt entirely.

"So, are you guys okay with this for dinner?" He asked, holding up the rigatoni and sauce again.

Y/N, standing close to Nate, was quick to respond.

"Nick, you know I love vodka sauce." She said, shrugging as she placed a hand on her hip. "You could’ve picked any pasta, and I’d still be happy."

Nate nodded in agreement, his hand resting lightly on Y/N’s lower back.

"Yeah, I fuck with it." He said with a grin, his casual tone earning a laugh from Chris behind the camera.

"Perfect." Nick said, tossing the items back into the cart. "Dinner settled. Let’s find a cashier and get out of here."

The group began walking toward the front of the store, their chatter light and easy as they weaved through the same aisles. They were almost at the registers when Matt, who had been walking beside Nick, suddenly froze mid-step.

"No way!" His tone was incredulous and loud. The abruptness of his reaction startled Nick, who jumped slightly, his hand tightening on the cart.

"What the hell, Matt?" Nick snapped, his tone exasperated as he turned to his brother.

But Matt wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were wide with excitement, and he bolted toward a nearby fridge like a kid in a candy store.

"Y/N, oh my God!" He shouted over his shoulder, his voice filled with pure glee. "Look at this!"

Y/N, initially confused by his sudden outburst, followed his gaze. When her eyes landed on what Matt was pointing at, her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"No way!" She gasped, her excitement matching Matt’s as she grabbed Nate’s arm. "Babe, it’s apple cider!" She exclaimed, giving him a light shove before sprinting toward Matt.

"I can see that, angel." Nate's soft voice echoed from behind her, a laugh escaping his lips.

Matt was already standing by the fridge, practically bouncing on his heels as he pointed to the neatly lined rows of apple cider bottles.

"I thought it wasn’t the time of year anymore!" He said, his voice still filled with amazement as he grabbed one of the bottles and held it up for Y/N to see.

Y/N joined him, her eyes wide with joy as she stared at the cider.

"This is amazing!" She declared dramatically, picking up a bottle of her own and cradling it like it was a prized possession.

"Kids are losing it over apple cider." Chris said through his laughter, zooming in on Y/N and Matt, who looked like they’d just won the lottery.

Nick, who had finally caught up with the group, shook his head in disbelief.

"You two are ridiculous." He muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice as he watched his siblings freak out over something as simple as apple cider. "Are you actually going to drink that?"

"Absolutely." Y/N said without hesitation, handing the bottle to Nate, who rolled his eyes lovingly, taking it from her before putting it in the cart.

"We can come back after LA to get more, yeah?" He said softly, his voice low enough that only she could hear as his hand found her hair, brushing a strand out of her eyes.

Y/N opened the biggest smile, her eyes meeting his full of love.

"That would be awesome!" She exclaimed, making him laugh, nodding softly.

"Alright, let’s pay and go before these two decide to move into the store." Nick said, steering the cart toward the registers.

As they made their way to the checkout, Matt turned to Y/N.

"I call first sip when we open it."

"Not a chance." Y/N shot back, crossing her arms while frowning deeply.

"Over an apple cider." Chris said sarcastically, shaking his head as he filmed them bickering all the way to the registers.

[evelyns-envy]

Hi, I really liked your account <3. Could you make a hc of Daisuke with the reader being Swansea's daughter? But I understand if you don't want to :>

(sorry if the writing is bad, English is not my first language and I used the translator ಥ_ಥ)

YES YES I WILL HAPPILY WRITE THAT (your english is better than mine and english is my first language lmfao.)! this is such a cool idea though and i never even thought of it. this is my first req ever im so excited tysm!!

✎ "but daddy i love him!" (i'm havin' his baby, NO IM NOT but you should see your faces ;)) -taylor swift

warnings! - SMUT HCS + SFW!, vibrator, pegging, reader being swanseas daughter and getting w daisuke, MY FIRST REQ GUYS BE SO PROUD, evelyn is freaky 😼

SFW!!

oh jesus this is certainly a concept

you're there for almost the same reason daisuke is, for in internship.

however... daisuke is there since his parents are rich asf and paid for him to go, you're there because you've been rejected from your dream job and went into a depression due to it.

swansea knew he wouldn't let his daughter suffer, so he asked if you could been an intern on the ship for Anya.

the Pony Express executives were hesitant at first, but caved when Swansea offered for them to renew his contract for longer.

your first day aboard, you make fast friends with Anya and faster friends with Daisuke.

you ended up having to share a room with daisuke, in bunk beds.

a flirty/silly argument about who got top bunk, ending with daisuke going “what if we just share?”

he knew damn well

taking advantage of your stunned face and mind, he jumped up on the top bunk and stuck his tongue out at you.

”i was just joking, mini mechanic.”

100% calls you mini mechanic for the rest of the time on the ship even though technically HES the mini mechanic but wtv let him have his fun

is actually so glad you’re relatively the same age as him, and was really excited to be able to talk w you about younger and occasionally inappropriate stuff

UNTILL he found out you’re his boss’s daughter..!

tries to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum, but fails miserably

it was always pretty obvious that he had a thing for you, even before yall got together

would be asking swansea abt you 24-7 and your hobbies and favorite things only to be met with “stay away from my daughter, juarez.”

is now 10x more scared

and you’re also 10x more attractive to him since he knows he can’t have you

intentionally gets his finger jammed in something while helping your dad so he can go to medbay and see you

once you’re about a month into the trip, you two have regular staying up late and YAPPING sessions in your room

he’ll occasionally come down from his bunk and sit on the floor next to your bed if the topic is deeper, until you notice he looks uncomfortable on the metal floor and tell him to come sit on the bed

anddd thats how babies are made folks! the end!

nah jk anyways you two talk until the early hours of the artificial ‘morning’ on the ship

when yall finally run out of things to talk about, you realize he’s laying next to you and you’re laying on his arm

oh nooo how did that happen (fuck already damn)

“comfy there?”

”shut up.”

”make me, mini mechanic.”

”now is not the time to bring up my father, dai.”

you playing w his hair and growing to understand how much he loves when you do that

eventually falling asleep in each others arms

you cannot tell me this mf isn’t SO comfy to sleep on be so fr

waking up to YOUR DAD 🤗 banging on the door demanding that daisuke get up and come help him fix smth in the storage

getting jump scared and shaking dai awake bc bro is knocked out and snoring

him opening the door and yall having to act like you weren’t wrapped in each others arms, entirely consumed in the other

holy shit that was fuckin poetic

awkwardly waving bye to him, both of you having a knowing smile tugging at your lips

he eventually asks you out, VERY awkwardly and in the middle of one of the routine late night talks

you accept happily (no shit)

doing basically everything together

always bringing dai along when you’re in front of your dad js for funsies and to piss him off a little

even while swansea doesn’t seem like he approves of the relationship, he secretly loves how sweet and gentle daisuke is to you

+ his parents are rich so you’re set!!

always telling Anya you need to go ask your dad something when really you js wanna see your pretty boyfriend

you both love each other so fucking much it’s insane. and getting your dad to approve is next level

NSFW….!! (watch out 😛😼 ‘ya girl evelyn is a wee bit freaky)

if you’re a little bolder, you definitely jerk dai off under the workbench where both he AND YOUR FATHER are working (this hc isn’t mine i saw it somewhere else on tumblr btw i js love it sm)

ok listen. dai is a sub at heart, but a bratty sub.

tries to talk back to you? his ass is getting bent over the nearest surface and fucked stupid by your strap (it’s always close by 😼)

also jacking him off while another crew mate is nearby, one i think would be good is curly’s bday celebration. jacking dai off as he’s trying so hard to focus on making the cake while all you can focus on is his slutty noises spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

going down on him while he’s talking abt his usual unluckiness when trying to find a girl to truly love him, and now js his money. slowly unzipping his jeans while he keeps ranting, breath slightly jagged now.

“they alway-.. (y/n)? uh- what are y- mhmmm. never mind. feels good.”

he says as you gently tug his pants down, letting him fall around his ankles as you look up at him w those fucking eyes. shit. he’s a goner.

leaning back against whatever wall you undoubtedly have him pushed against, head thrown back as his trimmed nails run through you hair, egging you on.

you’re totally in swansea’s office change my fucking mind and he’s sitting on your dad’s desk 😋

“don’t mess up any papers, pretty. don’t want my father finding out you were gettin’ all ruined by his daughter on his desk, now do you?”

“n-no.. don’t mm- don’t want that.”

“then keep quiet and be good.”

he’s so fuckin freaky he’s defo an exhibitionist

you’re a girl- so you obviously brought a vibrator be SO fr w me rn

you definitely press it against his tip while slowly licking up the base

he is SO vocal that you have to tie his hawaiian shirt around his mouth so that he won’t YELL

gets cum on an important paper and yall have to throw it away lmfao

swansea being confused as shit abt where the document went and has been searching the Tulpar and asking all the crewmates if they’ve seen it

oopsies…

[deviathan]

I have a thought on this, but it's mostly because of how I respond to fiction. For me, there are some actions, that mean I cannot support a redemption arc.

For example, I will bring up Kylo Ren. For me, the moment he killed Han Solo there was no going back. I could not support him. Now, I probably should've had that thought near the beginning of the movie because I took this action as something more personal because we've seen Han Solo and followed his story for many years. Because of the personal nature of this, there was no redemption in my own eyes that would ever be satisfying. Now, I remember thinking I would've been interested in redemption before that moment, but that moment made me, as a member of the audience, not want to forgive him.

Now, I'm certain I have been happy with redemption arcs for worse actions and worse things, but those weren't personal. So I think some of it in writing depends on framing, and audience reactions will differ.

However, I think sometimes depending on how it's framed and what a person does, it can make it easier for an audience to accept a redemption arc. If someone has acted terribly in the past, but they're actively trying to do better, and we don't see what they did on page/screen, it can be easier to root for them.

For a Star Wars (Knights of the Old Republic 2) example, I absolutely love Atton Rand (character who is a former assassin), but some of that is he is introduced having realized he hurt people, and we get time to get to know him before we learn about his past. We see the other sides of him and how he can be redeemed. His humorous dialogue and his strong loyalty make him a lot easier to root for, at least for me.

Technically, Atton did some stuff about on par with Kylo, but I can forgive Atton. So, it's not necessarily about how heinous the action is sometimes, but how a character is portrayed.

Invalid reasons for why a character should not be redeemed:

They’re too evil! - Redemption has nothing to do with how good or evil you were to begin with.

They don’t deserve it! - Redemption is not something that can be “deserved.”

Their actions are unforgivable! - Redemption has nothing to do with forgiveness.

It’s too late for them to change! - It is only “too late” to choose redemption when a character is dead (unless the scope of the story includes an afterlife in which change is possible).

Valid reasons for why a character should not be redeemed:

It doesn’t fit the themes of the story.

They’re not an important enough character for showing the process of a redemption arc to be worthwhile.

They’re more interesting as a character who isn’t doing the right thing.

It’s more satisfying to let them keep being evil.

It makes it more satisfying when they die.

There’s probably more, but you get the idea.

Remember, redemption is when someone realizes they are wrong, and takes steps to doing the right thing. That is not something that can be “deserved,” it is not something that hinges on forgiveness, and it is not something that it is ever too late for! …Unless the person is dead or something.

[365emotionlessfaces]

Again, y’all. I’m sorry. She’s got me in a chokehold. I might write more chapters for this one. I kinda like it.

Don’t Take My Sunshine

WC: ~2.2k

“What did you call me, Schemmenti?!” Your voice rang through the empty hall of Abbott Elementary. The red-headed teacher has driven you crazy on every level possible for the last three years. She infuriated you from the beginning. She hadn’t even given you a chance when you started teaching at this school, immediately starting in on your appearance and your happy-go-lucky attitude, and then evolving to criticizing your teaching methods! She always knew exactly how to get under your skin, and after all this time you had hoped that she would have calmed down. Or that your skin would’ve gotten thicker.

Fiery hair flew out of the door down the hall, followed by piercing green eyes, a bright pink blazer over a charcoal blouse, flowy black dress pants, and heels that could puncture your heart. Her eyes landed on you, and you felt your breath catch slightly. Even though they always held contempt for you, her eyes were the most beautiful you had ever seen. They almost made her insults bearable. Almost.

“You’re a little sfigata! Comin’ in here, actin’ so full o’ life, an’ now I got my students wantin’ to know what youse guys are doing in the class next door! I can barely keep my kiddos engaged, then we got Mary Freaking Poppins havin’ sunshine and musicals every stinkin’ day! I’m so over you and your chipper little attitude! Get over yourself!” If this was how hostile she was going to be on week three of school, you were going to have to resign yourself to a long year. Your chipper attitude was hard-earned through years of bullies, exes, angry parents, and just plain mean people.

After three years, you had decided two things when it pertained to Melissa Schemmenti:

•She was undeniably attractive- a Philly thirteen, you swear to Gods- and she only got hotter when she was angry

•You were gonna kill her with kindness

“You think I sound like Mary Poppins?” You asked her sweetly, giving her as genuine of a smile as you could muster. You swear you saw her eye twitch. “That’s really sweet of you, Melissa. Just because you’re being so sweet, I’ll try to keep it down.” You gave her a quick wink, and dipped into your classroom to finish grading the tests from today.

You disappeared from Melissa’s line of sight so quickly, you missed the shocked expression flash across her face. It lasted less than a second before it turned to one of annoyance. She tightened her hands into fists, crumpling the papers in her left, before storming back into her own classroom.

The following week found you staying true to your word, keeping the volume to a lower octave than before. You didn’t have any less music throughout your day, though. The week also brought less snide remarks from the Italian next door. They were still there, but they were slowly losing their bite.

By the time Christmas break rolled around, she was almost… complimenting you? She took to not being so snide when she had a request to make, and you think last week you heard a ‘please’ come from those beautiful lips. You’re pretty sure it’s a real smile she gives you when she calls you things like ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ and ‘Princess Happy.’ You realized that, sure, when she was angry she was gorgeous, but when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips curled up into a smirk at one of your sarcastic remarks, she went from beautiful to straight-up ethereal.

———

“So what did you do over Christmas break?” Janine Teagues slid into the seat next to you, while you attempted to eat your lunch. The stress from seeing your family over break had you so caught up in your own mind, you barely noticed Janine had sat down. You definitely didn’t notice the redhead’s eyes on you.

“Huh?” Was all you managed for a response in between stabbing at your salad with your fork. This seemed to shock a few of your colleagues, as Barb and Jacob both looked at you with concern on their faces. You were usually one to chat animatedly with Janine, or anyone, about a variety of subjects.

“Did you do anything over break?” She repeated, slightly more hesitant than last time.

“Oh, I went home to see my Grandpa,” you sighed slightly, remembering the disaster that was your impromptu family reunion.

It was just supposed to be dinner between you and your grandpa, but apparently over the last three years, he and your father had reconnected. You haven’t talked to your father since his horrible reaction to you coming out. It had been years since you had seen him, and you definitely had not wanted to see him yet. The night ended with you and your cousin screaming and arguing over respecting your elders, even if they disrespect you.

You ended up apologizing to your grandfather for the scene and coming home three days earlier than planned. You spent the remainder of your time away from Abbott making lesson plans, and trying to come up with more projects to get your kids excited to learn. The four pints of ice cream you went through did nothing to soothe your emotions.

“That must’ve been nice! I miss my grandpa. When I was little, he used to take me and my sister…” her voice trailed off as you pulled your mind back into school mode. After you had finished your lunch, you made your way straight to your classroom, not even bothering to bid farewell to a soul in the break room. Not a single one of those souls missed the frown that donned Melissa’s face as you left without saying goodbye, though no one was brave enough to call attention to her suddenly soured mood.

It took all of two minutes before Melissa was out of her seat, and marching down the hall towards your room. The bell rang as she was halfway to your room, signaling that her little eagles would be on their way back to her room. She muttered to herself, something about “saved by the bell” and “stinkin’ sunshine anyway,” and turned to meet her kids in her class.

The rest of the day went by without any major disasters. Other than the usual messes, and small arguments, the children were well-behaved, and your mode started to lift slightly. Being back in your class was bringing a sense of normalcy that you needed after the break. You were reminded that these kids look up to you and really do care for you as much as you do for them.

After dismissal, you gathered your things and made your way to the parking lot, avoiding goodbyes for the second time that day. It wasn’t that you were avoiding them per se, you just didn’t have the energy to be the happy-go-lucky person you try to be when at school, and you didn’t want any of your friends to see you like this.

It took an entire week back from break before you were finally feeling like yourself again. You had avoided any and all unnecessary interaction between your coworkers, which was surprisingly difficult, especially by Wednesday when Melissa had begun to try and seek out interactions with you. You taught kindergarteners, so the only teacher you couldn’t avoid at all costs was Barb, and she seemed to understand you needed space, so she only approached you if she absolutely had to. Thankfully, she hadn’t needed much, so you were able to keep to yourself all week.

Having to endure the entire week without you, got Melissa thinking. On Tuesday, she had thought maybe she had done or said something that crossed the line. Whether or not your cute little laughs had grown on her, she was still a Schemmenti, and Schemmentis had attitude. But between not talking to anybody the day before, and now you’re not at lunch, she realized she might miss that laugh a little more than she wanted to.

On Wednesday, she decided she’d find you and apologize. If she had hurt your feelings, she would actually feel a little bad. You had been a whole ass ray of blinding sunshine for three years, never once faltering at any of her quips, jokes, or all out insults, and if she had really gotten you with one, she hadn’t meant to. Especially not now, not when your smiles were make or break for her day, and your tears made her want to bare knuckle fist fight anyone who made you feel like shit.

Thursday morning brought fumes for Melissa. She hadn’t seen you in the parking lot before school, the break room for coffee, or first recess break, which she knew that you shared with her. And if anyone asks, no, she was not looking forward to seeing you or that beautiful smile that made her question everything or the way you clearly cared about every single student within these walls. She was definitely just upset because clearly you were shirking on your duties, that’s all. It was only during her planning period that she calmed down, and it was due mostly in part because of Barb joining the hot-headed Italian and expressing her concern for you. Realizing that Melissa was not the only teacher at Abbott that you had been avoiding made it slightly more bearable for the woman.

Then came Friday. The morning had been a nightmare for you, starting with waking up late, burning breakfast, and then forgetting your packed lunch right there on the counter in the kitchen. You got to work, and decided to sit in your car to decompress for a moment. Across the parking lot, you saw Melissa getting out of her car and start looking around, probably looking to see if Barb was here already. You were surprised when her eyes stopped on your vehicle, and she started making a beeline towards you. When she got close enough, you two locked eyes, and she began talking. You couldn’t understand her, of course. You were still sitting in your car, in shock that she had sought you out. You opened your door and the barrage of words was audible.

“-get off thinking that you can become a staple in my routine and then disappear? You got some nerve! You can’t just come in and make it all sunshiney and make everyone like you, and then avoid us all! Some of us rely on your insufferable chipperness, ya know?”

The funk of your last week was washed away in an instant as you realized something. Here Melissa Schemmenti was, scolding you, infuriated because she hadn’t seen you for a week. The last three months of you giving her the biggest smiles you could muster and the politest compliments you could think of, had worked.

“Hello?” Melissa’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “You got anything to say for yourself?”

You grinned mischievously before replying. “You missed me, Schemmenti, didn’t ya?” You saw her soften slightly. Unbeknownst to you, she was flooded with relief. Barb had been growing increasingly worried about you, which of course only raised Melissa’s concern tenfold.

“How can I not miss my sunshine?” She asked with a smile. A real, genuine smile. You would’ve noticed her blush, had you not been too worried about hiding your own. “Just don’t take it away again, ya hear?”

———

“There’s my sunshine!” Melissa was leaning against the doorframe of your classroom with her arms folded across her chest, and a beautiful smile radiating across the room. It was the last day of school and you were just finishing packing the last of your things to head home for the summer. The months since winter break had brought a friendship between you, Melissa, Barb and Jacob that you had never thought would be possible. The four of you had become inseparable, sharing laughs and jokes amongst your days of dealing with the children of chaos, though you wished for more than friendship with one of them.

You looked up at her and smiled. She took your breath away. The last few years with Melissa took your emotions on a rollercoaster. The process from moving from enemies to friends was a long one, but it took no time at all for your good platonic feelings to turn into something very less platonic. You thought about all the work you did to become her friend, and decided you weren’t willing to risk losing that. Not yet.

So instead, you settled with the fact that for now, Melissa Schemmenti didn’t hate you anymore. “Hey, Mel. You, Barb, and Jacob ready to go?” She nodded and you followed her into the hall, meeting up with the other two of the Fearsome Foursome (Jacob’s idea), and heading out to dinner with your best friends.

As far as Melissa was concerned, she thought as she walked with her friends out of Abbott Elementary, she didn’t need to label whatever it was she was feeling for you. You had brought a sunshine into her life that penetrated all the dark little corners of her heart, and she’d be damned if anyone tried to take her sunshine away.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I have a steddie x reader request if you’re open to it!!

Best friends eddie & steve are hanging out with you in your room and are snooping around and oops! They found your vibrator

After a moment of embarrassment and teasing, you end up lying with your back to steve’s chest and eddie using the vibrator on you, both of them praising and teasing the whole time 👀👀

cw: MDNI (18+) use of a vibrator

It's not uncommon for you, Steve, and Eddie to be hanging out in your room. You're there more than anywhere else, especially because you've got your own place unlike the others. It's become a comforting space for the three of you and there's honestly nowhere else you'd rather be with them.

It's also not uncommon for the boys to go through your things because of how nosy they are. And you don't care so long as they don't go into the bottom drawer of your nightstand which is off limits and you lock it anyway because you know they don't like to listen.

They're looking through your clothes tonight, going through your lingerie, which should embarrass you, but it doesn't. You actually find the way they're hold up your bras to your chest scandalously humorous.

They get bored pretty easily and move on to your nightstand, rifling through the top drawer which just contains a journal, some pens, and other various writing utensils. As long as they stay there, it will be fine. As long as they dont-

But before you can stop him, Eddie rips open the bottom drawer, a gasp falling from his lips and Steve looks down as well, trying his best to stifle a laugh as a blush rises to his cheeks. There's a lot of different toys amongst other sexual things down there, but the start of the show is your bright pink vibrator.

"Oh, what's this?" He asks, looking down at the thing and now you're wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole because you just can't take this anymore.

"Eddie, don't," you warn but he pulls it out of the drawer anyway and you have to cover your face because you're so embarrassed. You don't know why since that's not an abnormal thing to own, but the fact that your best friends, male best friends at that found it, well, there was a reason why the drawer was off limits.

You go to reach for it, but Eddie holds it out of your grasp before tossing it to Steve. He turns it this way and that before turning it to you with a devilish grin, switching on the thing so it's vibrating intensely in his hand. It's going crazy and when he looks at the switch, he realizes that this isn't even the highest setting. He kicks it up and now he's losing his grip on it because of how much it's moving.

He turns it off then hands it back to Eddie, the three of you getting the same idea at the same time. You're over your embarrassment now, suddenly feeling your panties getting damp at the thought of them using it on you.

Steve sits on the bed and pull you to him and you sit between his legs with your back to his chest. Eddie is on his knees in front of you as your quick to take off your sweatpants, your panties quickly following. You then spread your legs as he turns on the vibrator, slowly pushing it towards your cunt. The lowest setting it absolutely nothing compared to the highest, which is what Steve had it on just moment ago.

The second it touches your clit, you grab hold of Steve's thighs, digging your fingers into the fabric of his jeans. Eddie's free hand is on your bare thigh as he pushes the vibrator harder against your clit, watching you come undone.

You're moaning so loud as you lean your head on Steve's chest as he watches you in amazement. Neither of them have seen you like this and fuck is addicting to watch.

"That's it, princess," Steve encourages, his voice soft. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"I don't know, Stevie, I don't think she's giving us enough." Eddie pulls away and you're already begging for more, reaching out for him, but Steve hold you back, grabbing hold of your wrists so you can't move.

"Relax, princess. You'll get off, don't worry." You relax into Steve's chest and Eddie brings the vibrator back to your clit and you can feel the difference between this setting and the other one. It feels so good, but you need more.

He moves it down to your slit and you let out another moan, feeling the vibrations more intensely in this spot. Without warning, Eddie turns it up again and he can tell this is the sweet spot as you're already on the verge of an orgasm. Jackpot.

"Already about to come, huh?" Eddie teases. "Barely even done anything. We're only on three out of six settings."

"It just feels so good," you whine and Eddie applies more pressure, turning the vibrator up yet again. "More," you whine. "More."

"Gotta say please," Eddie replies. "Can't give you what you want if you don't say please."

"Please." You're begging now and both of them think they could easily get of from your whines alone.

"That's it," Steve says as you moan over and over, pushing the hair sticking to your sweaty face away so he can see you better. It's not surprising that he's being so sweet while Eddie's teasing you. It just makes sense with their personalities. "Look so pretty like this."

"You're so fucking hot," Eddie compliments. "Bet you're even hotter when you come, hm?"

You moan again, your back arching this time as Eddie kicks it up to the last setting, both him and Steve watching you in amazement as you finally reach your orgasm, your face having a nice sheen of sweat as your mouth opens wide, a loud moan falling from your lips as your back arches even more. They're sure that this is the hottest thing they've ever seen.

As you're coming down, Eddie turns off the vibrator and the two of them press gentle kisses to your forehead, letting you take a bre4ak before switching places.

Steve is much more gentle but he definitely knows what he's doing. He's singing your praises with every moan while Eddie is more degrading, telling you how much of a slut you are as he's now the one watching. He love's seeing it from this angle, holding you while watching his best friend pleasure you with your toy. He loves whispering the most dirty things into your ears while watching you come over and over.

The three of you spend the rest of the night like this, the two of them switching places over and over as you come again and again, only stopping when you absolutely can't take it anymore. And afterwards, they run you a bath and let you relax while they clean everything up and return the vibrator to it's spot in your drawer before they leave, knowing that this night will live all of your heads rent free for the rest of your lives.

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

wooyoung x gn reader + jongho x gn reader (separated)

this is a continuation of ateez stuck in the friendzone ! read that part so this makes sense.

tw: veeery dramatic, i actually cringed a bit at some parts but hey! it's fun and cute.

a/n: i might be back *evil laughs* sorry for disappearing! i hit writers block right after writing wooyoung's part :( then got my heart broken but that's a story for another day lol enjoy!

masterlist

WOOYOUNG

your silence annoyed him more than it should. ever since that night two days ago, you’ve been avoiding wooyoung. and it was pissing him off.

“i didn’t know you had a boyfriend” the man said, glancing back at you. “he’s actually my best-“ you started saying but wooyoung interrupted you.

“boyfriend, yes. i think you should leave” .

like what was so wrong about that?! he shoo’ed him away, he was probably a creep anyway!

“that’s for me to decide wooyoung! i didn’t call for help, you shouldn’t have intervened” you had argued with him, as you walked away with arms crossed against your chest.

“i saw it in his eyes, trust me i know what i’m talking about” wooyoung answered, following you outside the venue. you turned around, anger evident on your face. “oh so you’re a mind reader now?” you asked as you called for an uber, deciding it was enough for the night.

“what are you doing? hongjoong is our driver” he said, attempting to grab your phone. luckily for you, you were quicker. “you mean your driver, wooyoung, plus i can’t stand you right now so i’m going home. you crossed the line, once again”

with your back facing him, you finished typing your address and waited for an uber to pick up your request. after a few minutes you started shivering from cold, since you were a bit underdressed for the late night weather. wooyoung, who had been unusually quiet since that last part of the argument, noticed how your hands had started rubbing your arms in a poor attempt to warm yourself up. he sighed, taking off his jacket and putting it on your body.

“why did you do that?” you asked, not looking at him but accepting the jacket anyways, pulling it closer.

“you were cold” wooyoung said, as a matter of fact. you huffed, rolling your eyes. “not this, i mean what happened inside. be honest”

“because i like you” he admitted, quietly, as if it was a sin to reveal such secret. in a way, it was, or at least that’s how he felt about it: you are someone so precious to him that he was almost scared to ruin it all.

“i said be honest wooyoung!” you said in a loud tone of voice, bringing outlooker’s focus on you. you fake coughed, but looked back at him “for once, i’m asking you to be honest with me. no tricks, no lies. be my best friend for once”

wooyoung stared at you, as he pretended like that didn’t just stab a dagger into his heart. he clicked his tongue and looked away “i don’t know” he muttered, loud enough for only you to hear.

he chose to go against your wishes, because maybe that’s what you needed to hear. and he much rather lie and play pretend than to lose you completely.

———

two days had passed since that night, and you went completely silent on him. wooyoung attempted to pretend like nothing happened, and texted you multiple times about random things, but you didn’t even open his chat. so he tried calling you instead, but to no avail: it went directly to your voicemail.

it’s not like he could blame or call you dramatic for your reaction. i mean, it wasn’t the first time he drove someone away from you. actually, it had happened multiple times, and at first they had been unconscious, not fully aware of his own feelings but disliking the way they touched or flirted with you. his reasoning at the time was that they were “weird”, looked like “creeps” or simply too ugly for you, and that you deserved someone better. he was masking his feelings with the argument of being an overprotective best friend, and he only realized that a couple of times later when his friends pointed it out.

he also noticed that he stopped overly flirting with everyone that crossed his path, unless there were cameras nearby. he had an idol facade to keep, sadly. but besides that, he stopped seeing other people, started flirting less and became solely focused on you. his best friend became a priority in such an unconscious way, that once he realized how he felt he couldn’t go back in his tracks. he was already too deeply in love with you.

yet you failed to notice.

and it killed him.

specially when you went out and some random people approached you. each time a strong feeling of jealousy would bubble up inside him, only to erupt into his interventions. he needed to drive you away, you were his and his only. even if you didn’t know that yet.

wooyoung felt like he did cross a line this time though. he’s done this many times in the past, but somehow you never stayed mad for too long, always realizing he was right or simply believing he was being overprotective. but never ignored him for too long, specially not for days.

“wooyoung, look here please” the photographer said, pulling him out of his thoughts. he looked at where the man was pointing and posed. maybe i should apprach them differently? he thought, losing his focus again. the photographer sighed, dropping his camera as he announced everyone to take five.

“normally these things go very swiftly for you and i’m the one having trouble to stay serious” he heard yeosang say. wooyoung hummed in response. “i’m thinking about y/n” he admitted, earning a a teasing grin from his best friend. “when are you not?”

“yeah but they haven’t spoken to me in two days, i think i took it too far this time. i even confessed and they didn’t believe me” wooyoung said, kneeling down. “well you do joke around a lot” yeosang pointed out, before wooyoung looked at him with an annoyed expression. “i’m joking wooyoung, maybe try talking to them in person? about the seriousness of your feelings i mean”

wooyoung meditated his options: there weren’t many to pick from. it was either wait until the anger passed by, but risk a bigger explosion later on (he didn’t plan to stop boycotting other people’s advances on you) or else confess the real reason behind his actions. both options equally bad in his opinion, since both held the slight risk of losing you forever. you could be pissed off in a irremediably way, or you could reject and push him away.

yeosang has always been a great friend, never giving unsolicited advice unless he genuinely saw his friends conflicted, like right now. “think of it the other way” he started saying, making wooyoung look up to him from his kneeled position. “how would you liked to be approached if the roles were reversed?” yeosang asked.

wooyoung stayed silent for a few minutes, thinking. then, he smiled.

“okay everyone, back to your positions, let’s end this shoot!” he photographer exclaimed, returning to his position with camera in his hands.

———

slam!

the loud bang of the door in front of his face startled him, making step back instinctively. after the photoshoot, he went straight to your apartment with a set mindset. he rang the door bell and even knocked on on the door repeatedly, making you yell in annoyance “coming!” from inside. once you opened the door, your eyes interlocked. you looked tired and your hair was a mess, it was clear you haven’t gone out since that night. before he could react, you had slammed the door in his face before exclaiming “go away wooyoung!”

so he started doing what he knew best: to annoy you. he banged and banged on the door as he simultaneously rang the door bell insistently.

“y/n open up! we need to talk” he exclaimed. unbeknownst to him, on the other side of the door, you wanted to bang your head against the wall, while hoping your neighbors weren’t home.

“go away wooyoung!” you yelled, putting the lock on. after a few more minutes of complete madness, the ringing and banging stopped, making you sigh in relief. maybe he finally gave up and decided to leave.

it’s not like you didn’t want to talk to him ever again, you were just angry and needed time to cool off. he should learn from his mistakes and-

clink clink clink

swoosh

“like i said, we need to talk” you heard wooyoung say from behind you. you quickly turned around, only to see hin standing by the door of your bedroom, wide window opened behind him.

“are you insane?!” you exclaimed, sprinting past him to your window. “i could call the police you know?”

“you wouldn’t, i’m your best friend still” he pointed out, sitting on your bed like he didn’t just climb through god knows what things outside your building and break into your home. “plus you weren’t opening up the door like a normal person, so i had to take drastic measures because i really really want to talk to you about something”

“jung wooyoung you are unbelievable” you said, shutting the window and locking it. “if someone doesn’t open the door, you should leave you know? like a normal person”

“yeah yeah anyways i’m here now so can you tell me why exactly have you been so distant and pissy?” he asked.

way to approach the subject stupid, he thought to himself after his poor choosing of words. you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms against your chest.

“so you think i’m overreacting after what? the thousandth time you boycotted me?” you asked, venom in your voice. “or i’m overreacting because i wasn’t given a good reason for those actions? let me tell you, ‘i don’t know’ isn’t a good reasoning by the way”

you sat down next to him on the bed, but somehow he felt like you were miles away. it’s like you set up an invisible wall between you two, and it was both pissing him off and making him anxious.

“am i so unlikeable that you have to intevene to save me from future pain?” you asked, in a low voice while facing the floor. he heard you though, and before his mind could process the words, his body turned to yours as he held both of your hands.

“no!” he exclaimed, looking deeply into your eyes. “you’re perfect”

“then why? don’t i deserve to be happy with someone?” you asked once again, feeling the tears creep into your eyes.

“there’s nothing i want more than to see you happy y/n but-“ he started saying, but stopped himself, looking down to your hands intertwined. it felt nice, comforting, like your hand was made to be held by his. “but what?” you pushed.

“i want to see you happy, but i want to be the reason of that happiness” he whispered. you looked at him, confused. “you make me plenty happy woo, i just-“ you started saying, but he cut you off: “you want to love and be loved back, i know. you want romance, passion, i know that as well. you want the romantic kind of happiness, yet you fail to notice that it has been here for years now. i’m here, i love you and probably way more than other random person at a shitty bar! i’m here in front of you, open your eyes” he begged.

“wooyoung don’t say things like that-“ you started saying, shaking your head and attempting to remove your hands from his. but he held you tighter.

“i’m not lying y/n, and i’m not playing tricks either, not when there’s so much to risk here. i wasn’t lying two days ago, and i’m not lying now. is it too hard to understand that your best friend is in love with you?” he asked.

you stared at him, trying to decipher his honesty. he looked desperate, yet his gaze was soft, almost pleading. you noticed that his hands were slightly shaking and that he was biting the inner side of his cheek, an usual habit of his that you noticed a while ago, that tended to appear in moments of anxiety.

he wasn’t lying.

“so you’ve been driving everyone away because-“ you started saying, but once again, he impatiently interrupted you.

“because i’m desperately and foolishly in love with you and i can’t handle it when other people take your attention from me” he concluded.

you stayed in silence, trying to process everything he had just said. his hold weakened with each second, and he started overthinking. did he just fuck everything up? was he about to lose you?

"you don't have to give me an answer, you know? i just thought you deserved the truth behind my actions. at least that's what i would have wanted to know if i was in your place" he said, feeling his voice about to break. he let go of your hands and stood up, making his way to the door while he felt his heart slowly breaking apart piece by piece. but it was okay, at least you knew now. who knows? maybe this was the start of finally moving on.

he felt your hand grab his arm, making him stop and turn around. you had stood up, silent tears falling from your eyes now. honestly, it was a sight wooyoung wished to delete from his mind. your hand went up to his neck as you walked closer to him, uncertainty filling all your senses.

“i think you deserve honesty from me as well” you started saying “i don’t know how to feel about this, about you. at least not yet. you’ve always been there for me, like an extension of myself. you always seem to know what i want or need before i am conscious myself about it, so what if-“

you bit your lip as you stared at him, more tears falling from your eyes. your hand was now holding his cheek, and it took everything in him to not lean into your touch.

“what if i’m unaware of my own feelings?” you asked, barely in a whisper. if he wasn’t standing so close, he probably would have missed it.

“as much as i would love that, a part of me thinks that maybe you’re just saying that to not hurt me, or maybe because you’re lonely” he argued. he refused to force you into something that you may not even want, just to preserve the friendship.

but you shook your head.

“i’m not lonely, i never was actually. you’ve always been there, that’s why i’m willing to try” you said, bringing his face closer to yours.

“you know how i want to be loved, now teach me how to love you back” you whispered, now barely inches from him.

he nodded slightly, before his lips touched yours for the first time.

and it felt right for both sides.

JONGHO

jongho’s mind has been spiraling since that afternoon. maybe he was being too obvious with his feelings? i mean, he didn't recall telling anyone about his secret, so if his friends noticed, what if you also did? what if you were just playing along because not only you did not like him back but also didn't want to risk the friendship? what if-

"jongho? are you okay?" you asked, interrupting his thoughts. jongho blinked rapidly and faked a smile, before nodding "yeah i was just thinking of all the things i have to do in the following days", he said, playing with a little spoon to busy himself. you two had met for coffee at a new place near his company, but you had not left his mind since that afternoon five days ago.

"anything i can help you with?" you asked, concern evident in your face. jongho felt like if you asked him to commit a crime, any crime at all, he would simply oblige, only becuase he considered you an angel sent from heaven just for him. and as any angel, you were forbidden.

"no, no don't worry about it" he said, "it's just some schedules and then i should clean the house a bit, it's my turn this week".

your face lit up at the last bit, and grabbed both of his hands excitedly, nearly dropping the spoon that he was still holding. "well i don't know about the first part, but i can definitely help you clean the house!"

"i'm not going to make you clean a mess made by three grown men! i wouldn't even force my worst enemy to do it" he said, chuckling and earning a giggle from you as well. "you're not forcing me actually, i'm offering! plus i won't be able to see you much if you're packed with schedules, so consider it as quality time with your best friend" you argued.

jongho thought for a moment, then sighed in defeat. how could he say no to you? specially when you're giving him your adorable puppy dog eyes. he never considered himself a saint, but also he was no devil.

---

"again, i'm so sorry for the mess, lately we've been arriving late and tired from schedules so we just leave things anywhere" jongho apologized, letting you in his apartment. to be honest, he did try to clean as much as he could before you arrived, but there was still much left to do. but, at least, it didn't look like an actual dumpster anymore.

"it's fine jong, i did volunteer to help" you said, leaving your bag and jacket on a chair nearby. jongho watched as you fixed your hair so it didn't get in the way, and as you lifted your arms, your shirt went up a little bit. it wasn't much for you to realize that a little skin was showing, but it was enough for jongho to lose his breath for a minute. "so where are we starting first?" you asked, hands now resting on your waist.

"the living room? you can start picking up the pieces of clothing and stuff laying around, while i dust and then clean the floor" he said, trying to sound as composed and normal as usual.

and with that, cleaning day started. as you were picking up shirts, jackets and socks, you two talked about what you've been up to the last few days. you were both busy with your own responsibilities, which left little time to text, so you were determined to take this time to the fullest to catch up with jongho. as he was telling you about the preparations for the european tour, you squatted down to pick up a sock from under the sofa. your friend was very focused in his task to dust the shelves as he talked, but as soon as he turned back to you, all coherent trail of thoughts died. he couldn't help but stare at your butt, and he mentally slapped himself over it. "i'm definitely going to hell" he thought to himself.

"so wooyoung... what?" you asked, sitting back down on the floor once you reached the sock. jongho quickly regained his composture, clearing his throat in the process. "he's going to write something down for each show, it can be a request for a member or simply something he wants to say" he answered, returning to the shelves and cabinets.

the next hour went on smoothly, and as the sun was starting to set and the moon was coming up, you were both almost done with the living room. at some point he suggested listening to music, which lead to the current scenario: you stealing the broom from his hands to use as microphone as you dramatically sang the song playing. jongho was laughing loudly as well, trying to steal his broom back with one hand as the other attempted to playfully tickle your side. the view was rather cute, actually, you two looked like- "you look like newlyweds" wooyoung said from the entrance, earning a not so subtle kick on the side from hongjoong, who was standing next to him.

you both flinched at the sudden intrusion, completely forgetting about the possibility of others interrupting your special little moment. jongho, personally, felt like he could kill wooyoung for his choosing of words.

"jealous?" you asked jokingly, as you untangled yourself from jongho and went back to the couch to keep on folding clothes.

"actually, a little bit" wooyoung started saying, mischief evident in his face as he smirked at the youngest member. jongho felt the terror in his veins. "you know it's amazing that you both found time to be so domestic, so cozy, so-"

"i think it's your turn to cook wooyoung" hongjoong interrupted, earning a sigh in relief from jongho. in return, wooyoung lifted up his arms dramatically, pretending he didn't do anything at all and disappeared to the kitchen. "now lovebirds, if you excuse me i'll be helping wooyoung" the leader said, emphizising on the word "lovebirds" as a manner to tease jongho as well.

once you were back alone, silence filled the room. it wasn't awkward per say, but sometimes saying nothing meant more than actual words. only the soft music played in the background, and that was enough for jongho's mind to spiral.

"i'm sorry about-" jongho started saying, but you interrupted, shaking your head "no, no it's fine! it's just them being them, right?" you said as a matter of fact. but jongho wasn't satisfied with that answer: "yes, but i feel like they crossed a line with their teasing and i'm sorry"

jongho wasn't sure how to feel. on the one hand, he knew he was being a tad bit dramatic, since your face didn't show any signs of discomfort. but also, he was terrified of ruining the irreplaceable bond you two had built. he feared that such small silly comments would turn into something bigger that might chase you away. a heavy sigh left your lips, interrupting jongho's trail of thoughts.

you looked up at him from your place on the couch, and smiled softly. your smile really was his favorite view, not a single landscape or starry sky could compare to it. you patted the spot next to you, suggesting him to sit down. his legs felt heavy all of a sudden, but he obliged anyways.

"they always tease us and it never affected you before, why now all of a sudden?" you asked, taking his hand on yours. jongho felt a chill run down his spine, and the words got caught up on his throat.

once again, sometimes silence is louder than words. he realized when your smile dropped, as you let go of his hand slowly. "jongho?" you asked, trying to get an answer from him.

but what could he say to you? it's getting to me because i love you more than a friend, but i'm terrified of you rejecting me and running away? he's an honest man, but not stupid.

so he shook his head no, averting your eyes "i'm fine, i just don't want you to feel uncomfortable" he managed to say.

after a few moments of silence, he looked up at you, and the view nearly killed him: you looked... sad, disappointed even. he had seen that look on your face countless times throughout the many years of friendship, it mostly appeared due to scumbags that broke your heart. so, why now?

"is the thought of dating me" you started saying, before your voice broke into a whisper: "...embarrassing?"

before he could react or think of a smart way to handle the situation, you stood up, and smiled. but it wasn't the same smile he worshipped, the one that lit up his life daily, it was rather different. it was fake, and one he never thought would be directed to him.

"forget i said anything, anyways! everything is pretty much cleaned up, so i'm gonna go now since you're probably tired from your busy day" you said, picking up your jacket and purse. "i'll see you soon!"

and with that, you left his sight. everything happened so quickly he was having trouble processing the information, but it wasn't until he heard the main door closing that he realized something: he was so busy trying to hide his own feelings that he completely dismissed yours. instead of assuring you, he stayed silent, allowing your mind to spiral into god knows what direction, convincing yourself that you were embarrassing him. what a ridiculous thought! if only you knew how much you occupy his thoughts on the daily, how much he wants to show you off and kiss you whenever he feels like it. if only you knew how hard he had fallen in love, you would never overthink or doubt him again.

then, he realized something else: he was still sitting in silence, too busy with his own thoughts, while you were on your way home still thinking ridiculous things. and that was the main issue: silence. you always came to rescue him whenever his friends teased him, while he panicked thinking about what you might be thinking. you were always quick to answer, while he kept his thoughts to himself. his mind, plagued with what ifs, overtook him and forced him to think that you're better off without knowing the truth. but what if it's not confessing what leads to the friendship's demise, but the silence instead?

his legs that felt heavy just moments ago, suddenly felt lighter, as he sprinted towards the main door without a second thought. he heard hongjoong's voice asking where he was going, but paid it no mind as he shut the door close: there were more important things at hand.

---

the early night was chilly, and you mentally thanked yourself for being wise enough to bring a jacket despite the warm afternoon weather. although, you were hoping it wouldn't be necessary if you had stayed over at jongho's.

jongho.

your best friend.

you shook your head at the thought, and quickly wiped off a tear that silently fell down your face. "i am so dramatic" you thought to yourself, wanting to laugh at your own misery but not being able to. truth is, you were feeling disappointed and sad, because your best friend, and the man you loved, was still blind to his own feelings. honestly, you had liked him for a long while now, but it wasn't until recently that you noticed the difference in interactions between you two and the rest. you noticed the lingering touches, the stares, the way he would run to you at 3 am only if you asked him to. you knew it all, you felt it all. and you tried to reciprocate it as much as you could, just so he could notice. but to no avail, it seemed like he still viewed you as his best friend, nothing more, nothing less. so before throwing away the towel forever, you decided to try one last time.

but again, it was all for nothing. maybe you deluded yourself, maybe it was all some sort of sick fantasy your mind created just because you desperately wanted jongho to love you back. maybe he really was embarrassed by the thought of being in a relationship with you. what a fool, what a lovesick fool.

as you felt more tears rolling down your face you mentally cursed yourself for the dramatics. "i feel like i'm in a kdrama" you thought, but you knew that the ending is far different from a tv show. in the end, this is real life, and your real best friend doesn't feel the same. so now all that is left to do is curl up in bed and cry until all tears dried, then you would appear again and pretend like nothing happened. and finally, you will move on. maybe.

"y/n!" you suddenly heard someone yell from behind you, interrupting your thoughts. you turned around, confused, and saw something you never expected to: jongho running towards you.

"what are you-" you asked once he reached you. jongho was out of breath, but immediately managed to shut you up the second he put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you still as well.

"i haven't been honest with you" he said, catching his breath finally. he noticed the faint tears on your face, and he wanted to punch himself for not being quicker, despite running at his max speed.

"jong it's okay, really" you tried assuring him, as you quickly wiped away the tears on your face, trying very hard to stop them from falling again. but if jongho running towards you wasn't enough of a shock, what he did next definitely was: he grabbed your face, and gently wiped them away himself.

"it's not" jongho said, still cradling your face. "i want to answer your question with honesty, and i want you to listen closely: the thought of dating you is not embarrassing, in fact-" he started saying but then stayed silent.

you stared at him, trying to figure out where he was going with his phrase, but you quickly noticed uncertainty in his face, almost like he was scared of something. before you could open your mouth to reassure him, he continued: "in fact, there is nothing i want more".

it was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for you to hear and make your legs wobbly. you suddenly thanked the heavens that you were still holding each other.

jongho cleared his throat, and his hand moved to fix a strand of hair behind your ear as his face softed. "what i mean to say is, i love you. more than a friend actually, and i'm sorry for letting my fears get in the way of honesty. i understand if you don't feel the same way, you can just give me a few weeks or months to get over it but please don't stop being my best-"

and what happened next, shocked the both of you: you stood on your tippy toes and kissed him. and it felt right, it felt perfect. and most important of all, it was corresponded.

it was in that moment when jongho realized that you were his favorite everything everything. favorite person, singer, cook. favorite confidant, partner in crime. to him, you were an open book, his favorite book. but now you were also his favorite person to kiss, and most importantly, his favorite person to love, but now not in silence nor in secret.

[ziggy-scardust]

Some are in a cult of personality, and people need to know there is support outside the cult if they are to leave their cult. Many of them were fooled and did not have the resources to figure it out. We may or may not have a democracy left in this country but having more people realize who their enemies really are is never a bad thing.

Schadenfreude tastes good but it’s fleeting and unfortunately usually makes people double down on their bad decisions. If you must, savor it in private. I know, I know, and I indulge too - but like. People I love whom I don’t believe are irredeemable fall into this camp and writing off seventy-odd million people just isn’t the way because there’s some much, much worse people to fight. And they get easier to fight when they have less public support.

I don't think most of my followers actually need to be told, but: y'all gotta let people switch sides.

I'm seeing a lot of "if you voted for Trump you're not welcome here" floating around. A lot of "haha the leopards are eating your face how does it feel". A lot of talk about the irredeemability of Nazis, with the strong implication that everyone who had any hand in bringing the current administration to power is a full-on Nazi and should be shot without trial.

People were fooled. People were lied to. People who genuinely tried to do their research were lied to by sources that had been reliable for decades. People who didn't have the time or the education to do their own research because they're fucking poor in America are finding out they were lied to.

If someone is trying to get out of a cult, you don't fucking lock them back in. You give them a place to run to. And if someone is trying to join your side in a battle that, at least hypothetically, is supposed to be settled by future democratic elections and therefore by strength of numbers, you fucking let them.

People are scared. People are finding out they were wrong. We are nowhere near the point yet where the wrong side is composed entirely of Bad Guys, if we ever will be. (Hell, eleven years after Hitler took power, some of his own generals tried to assassinate him with an exploding briefcase. It failed, but every time I see that stupid Tarantino gifset go by about "everyone in a Nazi uniform is irredeemably evil", that's what I think of. People are complicated, and everyone has their own breaking point.)

Where we *are* at is a point where people who don't want to be the bad guys are finding out what they were tricked into and trying to stop doing it. If you have any remaining faith in the democratic process at all, you should be helping those people join us and understand what the sides actually stand for, how they can actually fight for lower egg prices or whatever they were falsely promised. Even if you don't think democracy will help anymore, having a bigger group to fight alongside you is generally a good thing.

Or you could just take your hatred out on the most convenient targets, instead of on those who exploited them. Seems popular.

[infiniteglitterfall]

Two Palestinian activists give their perspectives on Holocaust Remembrance Day

Hamza Howidy

Hamza Howidy is 25. When he was just 19, he co-organized massive human rights protests in Gaza. He did it again when he was 23. Hamas imprisoned and tortured him both times, along with hundreds of others. He now lives in Germany and advocates for peace and human rights in Gaza. He is the most amazing activist I know of.

On this Holocaust Memorial Day, we take a moment to honor the six million Jewish men, women, and children who tragically lost their lives during the Holocaust, alongside the millions of others who suffered persecution and death at the hands of the Nazi regime and its collaborators.

This day stands as a poignant reminder of the unfathomable horrors of genocide, the destructive power of hatred, dehumanization, and demonization, and the remarkable resilience of humanity in confronting profound evil. This day serves not only as a remembrance of our history but also as a pledge to create a future devoid of antisemitism, racism, and intolerance.

As someone who identifies as Palestinian, it really bothered me to witness certain individuals and groups making the Holocaust a political topic, not to mention who started with projection, describing the war in Gaza as a Holocaust, which is absolutely wrong. And what's even more concerning is how some pro-Hamas folks, who claim to support Palestine, are indirectly promoting antisemitism by intertwining it with the Palestinian cause and the conflict in Gaza.

I just can't wrap my head around why these people are doing this or why a certain president is getting involved and making it all political. It's truly baffling to me.

I often grapple with guilt over my ignorance of the Holocaust until my twenties, especially considering the close ties and shared future we are meant to have with our Jewish neighbors. Our educational systems have failed to adequately address this crucial topic, leaving us without a proper understanding of their history and suffering, which ultimately hinders our ability to connect with and empathize with one another.

I feel a profound connection to the significance of this day. In my quest for peace and coexistence, I have come to realize that acknowledging the suffering of others is the crucial first step toward fostering genuine mutual understanding.

The Holocaust represents not only a deep tragedy for the Jewish community but also a poignant reminder for all of humanity. It is a cautionary tale that underscores the catastrophic repercussions of unchecked hatred, dehumanization, and indifference.

We are dedicated to educating future generations, combating bigotry in all its manifestations, and striving relentlessly for a future where such atrocities belong firmly to the past.

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Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib

Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib spent most of his childhood in Gaza. Now he lives in the United States, writes about international politics and public policy, and advocates for peace and human rights issues in Palestine.

Why I too choose to memorialize the Holocaust:

When I left the Gaza Strip as a teenager and headed to the United States, I knew nothing about the Holocaust, its details, or its contemporary implications.

The dismissal of the scale of the Holocaust or denying the scale of the slaughter and its true grotesque extent were unfortunately commonplace in Palestinian society, mainly as a defense mechanism – because it was believed that the acknowledgment of the Jewish people’s suffering automatically minimized the hardships that Palestinians experienced themselves under occupation or displacement. There was only space for one or the other.

There were, however, those who worked inside Israel and had close relationships with Israelis, providing them with access to a different narrative that educated them about some aspects of the Holocaust.

Once I was in the US, I developed a close friendship with a Holocaust survivor of French origin whose parents had been murdered in Auschwitz.

A.H. was a steadfast ally who made a point of connecting with Palestinians in general, and young Palestinians in particular, to share her story, offer friendship and comradery, and build robust alliances.

She was instrumental in saving my life by bringing me back to the US when I was stuck in Egypt after the cultural exchange program ended and I was unable to return to the Gaza Strip due to Hamas’s abduction of an Israeli soldier and a mini war that followed.

She financed my return to the US and helped me get started at a private school that offered the documents necessary to obtain a student visa before I was able to apply for political asylum in 2007. We have kept in close contact now that she’s in her late 80s, and she has been horrified by the disaster that has been unfolding in the Gaza Strip.

Two months ago, she made an anonymous $50k donation to a major medical NGO that was saving lives in my honor. A.H. even promised to help my family rebuild their destroyed home in Gaza City if and when that time comes.

I am sharing this because it is easy for people to politicize the Holocaust and its Remembrance Day, as well as to forget the immense human toll it had on real human lives.

Importantly, what people choose to do with the memory of the Holocaust, regardless of their background or individual feelings and views, is just as important.

This terrible tragedy should be transformed into an impetus for the betterment of humanity and the human condition; compassion, bridge-building, radical pragmatism across our differences, and holding space for multiple sufferings and pains can all be inspired by honoring the Holocaust and its victims.

For some, this will be a long journey, and it will take them a while before they get to this place. The goal should not be shunning them but inspiring and encouraging them to see something else.

I look back at my days as a young teenager coming out of Gaza, carrying the weight of my trauma and that of my parents and grandparents and, indeed, the entire society, and how difficult it was to create space for other people’s histories and traumas.

But I realize that we are truly only complete if we are part of a broader network of nations, groups, backgrounds, and peoples who, despite their differences, share the common thread of humanity, empathy, and the desire for safety and self-determination.

Twitter

And for the actual remembrance part, six quick things I've learned recently about the Holocaust:

(Graph is from a 1992 paper by Jewish demographer Sergio DellaPergola, called, "Major Demographic Trends in Jewry: The last hundred years.")

There are still fewer Jews on earth today than there were in 1939. There were 16.9 million Jews on earth before the Nazis began their industrialized genocide. 80 years later, there are 15.7 million.

Throughout the Holocaust, German corporations like Daimler and Mercedes-Benz requisitioned slave labor from Nazi camps. There were dozens of companies doing the same thing.

The Holocaust did not come out of nowhere. Germany had two "dress rehearsals." From 1904-1908, it set out to crush the Herero people in Namibia. It killed 80% of the Herero and 50% of the Nema. It forced them on death marches into the desert. It created death camps. In one, “people were subject to rape, medical experimentation, no shelter, no food, in cages on the beach.” Doctors sent severed heads from these experiments back to Germany, to be used as examples of racial inferiority. One of those doctors went on to teach Dr. Josef Mengele.

The second "dress rehearsal": Before the death camps that were the Nazis' solution to the "Jewish Problem," Germany transported 70,000 autistic, chronically ill, mentally ill, and elderly people to death camps... and up to 200,00 more after that. They literally called them "useless eaters," because they couldn't make money for anyone.

Hyper-violent antisemitism also had a "dress rehearsal." From 1918-1921, up to 250,000 Jews were killed in incredibly violent pogroms across Ukraine. These included massive numbers of systemic, even public rapes, one common hallmark of genocides.

If we're calling those dress rehearsals, there was also a curtain call: After WWI, a fascist little rich man called Amin al-Husseini found that instead of being an up and coming leader in the Ottoman Empire, he was now expected to treat Jews as equals and share political and social power with them. So he spent twenty years inciting anti-Jewish massacres and becoming a MASSIVE Hitler fanboy. He attempted a pro-Nazi revolt across the Middle East, but only managed to incite the Farhud. Then he ran Arabic-language propaganda for the Nazis, and was so successful that between about 1940-1970, every single country in the Arab World, from Morocco through Afghanistan, ethnically cleansed 90% or more of its Jews. (The map below begins in 1948, but I can hand you a list of laws and pogroms that shows how much earlier it started.) As far as I can tell, this is the largest ethnic cleansing event in history, both in total population and in geographic range. And yet I had never heard of it before.

Off-topic, but bringing it back around to the two activists I started this post with:

I cannot recommend the two activists above enough, along with others in my Palestinians to platform tag. I beg everyone to google and follow people like Hamza Howidy, Moumen Al-Natour, Mo Ghaoui, Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, Ahmed Al-Khalidi, Bassem Eid, and the Center for Peace Communications. It's past time to center and platform Gazan activists.

[abii-reb]

Kang Dae-ho

"Stay Behind Me" pt1

❥ summary: where our ex-marine can't help but feel strangely attracted to the beautiful girl with blonde hair and cute freckles.

❥ word count: 1.7k

❥ warnings: fem!Reader, mention of death and blood

❥ authors note: Hi! I'm Abi. This is my first time writing on Tumblr :) and my first language is not English, so if I misspelled anything please let me know!

From the moment he saw her smile and pose for the photo they were taking at the start, Dae-ho couldn’t help but notice her. Not because he wanted to, but because something about her presence seemed to draw attention effortlessly. She was the blonde girl with long hair, the kind of golden tone that caught the soft light in the room, making it appear gentler than anyone in a place like this had a right to be. And those freckles... damn, they were like tiny specks of art scattered across her face, framing eyes that shone with a mix of calmness and determination.

Not that Dae-ho cared, of course. He wasn’t there to admire anyone’s beauty. He was there to win. But somehow, his gaze kept drifting back to her, no matter how hard he tried to resist. It was absurd how his mind insisted on taking in every detail—from the way she tucked her hair behind her ear to how she seemed to analyze the situation with a precision that intrigued him.

“She’s nothing special,” he told himself in an attempt to cut off those thoughts. But almost immediately, he corrected himself: “Well, yeah, she’s cute, I guess.” That simple admission made him frown at himself. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about things like that, and he knew it.

When the first game began, "Red Light, Green Light," she caught his attention again—this time because of the way she stepped slightly away from the crowd. It was a smart move, albeit risky. Most people stuck to the center, as if being surrounded offered some false sense of security. But not her. She stayed near the edge, choosing an open space where no one could sabotage her. That’s when Dae-ho realized something else about her: she wasn’t just cute—she was clever.

Her decision paid off. Soon enough, some players started pushing each other for no reason, and gunshots rang out as the cameras detected even the smallest movements. The chaos that erupted only confirmed what he already suspected: the girl knew how to think strategically.

For his part, Dae-ho decided that sticking close to her wasn’t a bad idea. Not because she was cute, of course, but because she seemed to know what she was doing. At least, that’s what he told himself as he carefully advanced.

Step by step, syncing his movements with the game, he eventually positioned himself behind her. Just when he thought he had everything under control, something unexpected happened: she stumbled. It was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her lurch forward. Before she could hit the ground and risk her life, Dae-ho acted purely on instinct. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist, his hands finding a firm hold to steady her.

The contact was brief but intense. Gently yet firmly, he helped her stand upright, making sure she didn’t move more than necessary. She turned slightly to look at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and gratitude, while he tried to keep his composure as if it were no big deal.

“Be careful,” he muttered quietly, his tone more commanding than he intended. But inside, his heart was pounding, and it had nothing to do with the stress of the game.

Dae-ho didn’t think twice before stepping forward and placing himself in front of her, shielding her with his broad frame. It was as if some protective instinct had taken over—a reflex he couldn’t explain. If that doll detected any movement, he’d rather it be his than hers.

“Stay behind me and don’t move,” he whispered firmly, without looking back at her. He knew that even the slightest distraction could cost them their lives.

She obeyed, but couldn’t help whispering back, her voice so soft it almost blended with the wind:

“Thank you… that was really brave of you.”

Dae-ho didn’t respond right away. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on the path ahead. Talking during the game was risky, but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him was affected by her words. Even so, he forced himself to stay focused, blocking out any emotions that could betray him.

“Just focus on moving forward,” he replied, curt but not cold. It was his way of protecting her, of keeping her from letting her guard down too soon.

Long seconds passed that felt like hours. Each pause in the doll’s song brought a brief sense of relief, but every time the music stopped, the danger pulsed in the air again. Dae-ho moved with precise steps, ensuring his body remained a shield between her and that fucking doll.

When they were close to the finish line, the tension in his body was almost suffocating. He could feel the pressure behind him, as if she were holding her breath, waiting for his next move. That’s when he made a decision: he subtly reached his hand back, his fingers searching for hers until he found them.

“When the music starts again, run with me, okay?” he murmured, his tone more of a command than a suggestion.

She didn’t reply, but her hand gripped his firmly—a silent confirmation that she was ready. The song resumed, and without a second thought, Dae-ho pulled her forward with him, sprinting full speed toward the finish line. His heart pounded, not just from the physical exertion but because he knew one wrong move could doom them both.

When they finally crossed to the other side, relief hit them like a wave. She dropped to her knees, gasping for air, while Dae-ho bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. There were no victory cries or triumphant smiles—just the sound of their breathing, mingling with the screams of those still struggling to survive.

When they’d both calmed down a little, their eyes met at last. It was a strange moment, charged with something neither of them could put into words.

“Y/n…” she said finally, breaking the silence as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My name’s Y/n.”

Dae-ho straightened, still not looking away from her. His voice, when he replied, was softer than usual, as if saying her name was a privilege.

“Kang Dae-ho.”

“Thank you, Dae-ho,” she whispered, her gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and something else—something he wasn’t ready to figure out.

(...)

The massive room, packed with bunk beds stacked to dizzying heights, was enveloped in an eerie silence, broken only by scattered murmurs and the muffled sobs of a few players. The cold lights cast long shadows, making the space feel even more oppressive. Dae-ho, sitting on his bunk, couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was on the highest bed of one of the rows across the dorm, sitting cross-legged with her gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. Her blonde hair fell messily over her shoulders, though it was clear she didn’t care. There was something different about her now, a glow that was no longer there.

Without thinking too much about it, Dae-ho stood up and began climbing the bunks toward her. He didn’t care about the curious glances from the others. He just knew he had to get closer. When he reached her bed, he leaned in carefully so as not to startle her.

“Can I sit here?” he asked, his voice low but gentle.

She looked up, visibly surprised to see him there. She hesitated for a moment but finally nodded, scooting over slightly to make room for him.

Dae-ho sat next to her, observing her quietly. He could see how she nervously fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, twisting and untwisting it, as if she needed something tangible to occupy her restless mind.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, his tone direct but tinged with concern.

She sighed, keeping her gaze down, avoiding his.

“I didn’t expect… this,” she murmured, gesturing vaguely at the emptiness around them, as if trying to encompass everything that had happened. “The deaths, the blood… I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Dae-ho waited silently, giving her space to continue.

“I thought they’d just be kids’ games. Harder, sure, but not so… inhuman,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t believe how many people died out there… and I… I just want to leave.”

Her confession hung in the air. Dae-ho watched her in silence, seeing how her strong, determined facade was crumbling. It was hard to process, but he understood exactly how she felt.

“Listen,” he said firmly, turning slightly to face her. “None of us thought it would be like this. We’re all scared, but you survived, okay? You made it through that game. It’s not easy, but if you want to make it out of here alive, you have to keep going.”

She looked at him, her brown eyes glistening with tears she didn’t dare let fall.

“What if I can’t?”

“You can.” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll make sure you do.”

She let out a nervous, almost incredulous laugh.

“Why do you care so much? You barely know me.”

Dae-ho shrugged, though his gaze was intense.

“Why do you trust me so much? You barely know me.” he countered with the same logic.

“I don’t know… something tells me I should,” She said, shrugging as a shy smile crept onto her face.

“Exactly. Something tells us to.” he replied, his tone unwavering.

For a moment, she studied him in silence. Eventually, a small, tired smile formed on her lips.

“Thanks, Dae-ho.” she whispered, her voice softer now.

He nodded and, almost instinctively, placed his large hand over her delicate one, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day, and you’ll need to be rested.”