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junkdrawerfics · 7 months

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hello!! i had a request for jasper, if that’s ok? i was thinking about him with an entirely oblivious reader. alice knows they’re meant to be together, and just cannot fathom how reader is this clueless to jasper’s flirting? LMAO esp with that southern charm and the fact that he’s actually talking to someone outside of his family 😭 just know id be blissfully unaware that man’s even interested even if he was breathing down my neck and his family is practically tearing their hair out atp 😭

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: You're oblivious. That's it. And it drives the Cullens (+ Bella) crazy. Jasper has to take a far more direct approach to get through to you.

Word Count: 1846

Note: I hope this works for what you were requesting! It was a fun write, I always like playing with different perspectives and even writing scenes without the reader directly in it.

---

“Anyone would think they’re dating,” Alice sighs in exasperation.

Bella follows the vampire’s gaze, noticing you and Jasper standing close together at your car. You’re gesturing wildly, eyes wide, excitement pouring off of you like usual. And Jasper’s just listening, a soft smile on his lips, one she’s only ever seen when the blond’s with you.

“Most of the school does,” she corrects, shoving her hands in her pockets, “Jessica brings it up all the time and Angela says she had to fight Eric to keep it out of the paper.”

Alice snorts softly, the sound somehow delicate. The humans love gossiping about their family, a fact that is unchanging wherever they go. She’s heard more than a few rumors about the two of you, and Jasper probably has too. You, however, remain blissfully unaware.

In her entire century of life, she had never met someone so completely oblivious.

“Does she know he’s flirting with her?” Bella asks, her brow furrowing as Jasper tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while you just keep talking a mile a minute, totally unphased. You, the girl who gets flustered at the drop of a hat with everything else.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Alice chirps matter-of-factly, “She has no clue that he likes her. It’s kind of sweet. But also maddening.”

“You’ve seen something about them?”

“Of course I have.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “It’s not even that, though! I don’t need a vision to know they’re perfect for each other. They’re both absolutely smitten with each other, but she’s even more oblivious than you.”

“Hey-!”

Jasper chuckles under his breath. You pause, head tilting as you follow his flickering gaze to the two girls standing at the other side of the lot. Alice has her hands propped on her hip, a smirk adorning her features as Bella turns impossibly red.

Curiosity washes over you. Eagerly, you whip back to Jasper. “What are they talking about?”

“Bout you and me it seems, and they’re arguin’ about how…observant Bella is,” he murmurs, amusement clear in his tone.

You blink, pursing your lips a little, “They were talking about us?”

“They were just wonderin’ if we are goin’ to the fall festival,” he lies smoothly. Jasper has no desire to expose you to the ugly rumor mill of this town. “What do you say, darlin? Want to go with me?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about that all week!” You squeak, confusion disappearing just like that.

The smile you give him is so bright, so genuine, it could cripple a weaker man. The blond has to bite his tongue, though, the desire to lean down and kiss you pulling at his chest viciously. He wants to see if your smile tastes as sweet as it looks…

“We could see if they want to join us!” You continue, clapping your hands like a little kid. “Maybe that’s why they were talking about us. Oh, it’d be so fun to go as a group!”

The groan from across the parking lot is audible even to you.

---

“Gaaaahhh-”

Your groan gets cut off when you flop onto your bed and land face first in your fluffy comforter. It practically swallows you whole, you almost wish it would.

Bella watches, lips curling in amusement as she gently drops her backpack down and perches herself at your desk, “Jasper again?”

“-e’s su niiithee,” you whine, voice muffled.

“Try again.”

You turn over on your back, pouting at the ceiling, “He’s so nice.”

“He is.” Bella draws her knees up to prop her chin on and waits. The rant is inevitable.

“No, like, he’s so nice. You don’t understand, Bells.” You throw your arms in the air, letting them fall to the bed dramatically. “I’ve never met someone who’s just so nice. And he’s so pretty and charming and sometimes I just wish I could jump on him and hold on like a koala.”

“You could,” she points out, not missing a beat.

Propping up on your elbows, you can’t help but gasp at her, cheeks going positively red, “No I can’t! That would totally freak him out!”

“I think he’d like it more than you think.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your hands fly to your face, as if covering it will stop the blush from spreading down your neck. “You’re so mean to me, Bells. So crude.”

Bella snorts, “That’s not crude. And you’re oblivious.”

“Hello!” You yelp, sitting up. “Kettle calling the pot black!”

“It’s the other way around, actually.”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, flopping back down. Your thoughts are always a mess when it comes to Jasper, and everyone teasing you like this doesn’t help. It’s easy when you’re with him, you kind of just forget about it all. He’s your best friend, afterall. A frown pulls at your lips. “And I’m not oblivious. We’re just really close friends. I think I’d know if he liked me or something…”

Bella has never been so close to strangling someone.

---

Eventually, a Cullen family meeting has to be held about the issue, despite Jasper’s reluctance.

“She’s clueless,” Bella groans, dropping onto the couch next to Edward.

Emmett snickers from his seat with Rosalie, “I thought we already knew that?”

“We did.” Alice sighs as if she’s mourning the thought. “But we’re afraid it’s worse than we originally thought. The girl is hopeless.”

“She is not,” Jasper chides, lingering on the edge of the group. A part of him doesn’t like having his family in the middle of this. It’s his relationship, or lack thereof. He hates feeling infantilized.

“Hush, Jasper.” Alice waves him off, earning a scowl from the blond. “You’re hopeless in your own ways. This is about (Y/n).”

“So what should we do?”

Jasper forces himself to take a long, calming breath. They mean well, he knows that. They always do. But their methods are usually far too…exaggerated. He might have considered asking for Esme’s advice, perhaps even Carlisle, but not Emmett, and most certainly not Alice. This is his decision to make, and he needs to go about it in his own way.

“Oh! Maybe we can hire someone-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts, cutting off whatever wild plan Emmett has concocted, drawing the family’s attention to himself. Jasper straightens up, giving them all a pointed look, “This is my business, and I will be taking care of it as I see fit. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary.”

“What are you going to do, honey?” Esme speaks her first words of the evening, voice gentle and unassuming as always.

The blond softens, giving her a faint smile, “I’ll be straight with her.”

“But-”

“Stay out of it, Alice.” The little ravenette pouts, though her eyes dance with excitement. A little push was all he needed, it seems. “It won’t do me any good if she learns of my feelings from one of you. It needs to be me. Even if I have to lay myself out plain for her to see.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want, son,” Carlisle hums, relieved to take a step back. He wasn’t a fan of this plan from the start.

“It is.”

And it’s true. At one point, it didn’t feel like he had much control of his life, but now he does. And now he has you. It may just be a ‘matter of time’ thing, according to Alice’s vision, but he wants to do this right, at his own pace.

Now, it’s just a question of how.

---

“Darlin…can we talk?”

“We are talking,” you giggle, writing down another formula.

“I mean a more serious talk.”

You blink, looking up from your chem textbook to meet a pair of nervous, gold eyes. Nervous? Jasper is nervous? Your brows furrow, concern immediately sparking in your chest.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, notes forgotten and thrown to the side. You can always study later. “What’s up, Jasper?”

“Everythin’s alright, just-” Jasper settles on the bed in front of you. He keeps a respectable distance, but reaches across to take your hand in his. You freeze. Eyes wide, you can’t stop yourself from staring at it. Your hands. Together. He’s holding your hand. Why is he holding your hand?

“Darlin?”

“Huh?” Oh right. You drag your gaze back up to him, catching a flicker of an amused smile on his lips. A blush creeps up your neck and you smile apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, um, what’s up?”

“I have something important to tell you,” he explains, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that is far too distracting.

It helps calm your racing heart, though, because a part of you is terrified. You have no clue what he could possibly want to talk about that would warrant such seriousness. Unconscious, you end up holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I like you, darlin.”

What?

You pause. Process. Confusion swirls through your concern.

“I like you too, Jazz, you’re my best friend,” you chime, tone completely lost and befuddled.

An incredulous laugh breaks past Jasper’s wall of nerves. The tension drips from his shoulders. It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that he feels like he can finally say everything he’s ever wanted to say.

“I’m ‘fraid you don’t understand, darlin,” he hums, giving you one of those gorgeous, slanted grins that make your heart melt. And the way you cock your head at him, eyes doe-ish and soft, does the exact same thing to him. “I want to take you on a date. I want to open doors for you and walk you to your porch afterwards. Maybe give you a goodnight kiss and watch you go inside. You drive me mad, darlin. I like you so much, it’s taking everythin’ in me not to kiss you right now.”

What?

Your head spins. It’s difficult to even process what he’s saying, everything swimming through your head at a dizzying pace. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“You-” You falter, “You want to- to what?”

Finally.

Jasper smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip erratically, “I want to kiss you sugar. And trust me, it is mighty hard to control myself.”

“Okay um…” You scream silently in your head. Jasper wants to kiss you. Jasper likes you. He likes you. And you like him. “So, you- okay, I have no clue what to do now. I like you too, a lot. Which you probably knew. Wow. I can’t believe I didn’t…”

“Everyone tried tellin’ you,” Jasper chuckles, leaning back.

“I know! I just, I thought they were all teasing me, you know? Cause I like you,” you explain lamely, pouting a bit in disbelief. All this time, you could have just told him! “I just can’t believe how oblivious I was.”

“Trust me, darlin, none of us can. I have one more question for you, though.”

“What?”

“Will you give me the great pleasure of takin’ you on a date?”

You bite your lip, but it does nothing to stop the smile from spreading across them.

“Of course!”

---

I hope you guys liked this one! It was a fun one, though it took me a while!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper x reader #you're so oblivious it hurts #oblivious reader

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tinytennisskirt · 2 months

Text

Cottage Culture

Art x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader, Art, and Patrick have been best friends since fourth grade. Older now, the three of them spend some time at reader’s cottage and it’s a few nights of buildup, a few nights of drinking, a few nights of misplaced tension until it all unfolds in Art’s favour.

Warnings: they all flirt with each other casually (it’s part of their dynamic), casual touch, mentions of sex, mentions of physical arousal, suggestions of masturbation, smoking, drinking, lots of fluff but also a lot of suggestive material… slowburn. unedited from my notes app.

They say trios never last, but yours managed to for years. You, Art, and Patrick had been close since grade four on and were still as strong as ever. Finally, after a month of planning, the three of you pulled up to your (now deceased) grandparent’s cottage that your parents maintained. It was mid-July and the heat was at its peak with hot days and warm nights with cool wind. The plan was to spend some time up here kayaking, swimming, playing pool, paddle boarding and fishing.

You each hauled a good amount of stuff from the car and began unpacking it. Everyone was tired from the drive, there were a few words spoken but hardly any altogether which was rare for the three of you, but once things were away there was less to worry about the next day and the three of you crashed on the couch.

Patrick sighed heavily as he sat down feet on the floor, arm draping over the armrest like a rag doll. “I’m out of my mind tired,” he yawned. “Since when does driving five hours count as a lullaby?”

“I think it might have been having so much fresh air with the open windows,” you said, sitting next to Patrick, body slightly turned. Patrick shoved your head and you only grinned, leaning back against him. Art followed suit, falling over the other arm rest, his head landing perfectly in your lap. He shut his eyes. You placed your hand right on his forehead and he smiled.

“He’s dead,” Patrick said. Art opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look at Patrick.

“Not dead, but dead tired,” he said. “I think it was the fresh air.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been so tired after driving up here and I know we all slept well last night.” You said, resting your hand on Art’s shoulder. He placed his hand overtop yours. “But at least we know we’ll be fine tomorrow. No way I’m not falling asleep in the next twenty minutes.” You sighed. “If I can get off this couch.”

“That sounds like so much work,” Art groaned.

“Too much,” Patrick groaned just the same. You all shared a small chuckle, too tired to laugh. “Plus I can’t get up until you two do, I’m stuck here.”

“I’m never moving,” Art groaned. You smiled at his closed eyes, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks.

“That means I can’t move. Sorry Patty.” You shrugged. Patrick just groaned and covered his eyes and with a mighty push he unwedged himself from the couch arm and you tipped a little without someone to lean on.

“What? I’m strong,” Patrick said, flexing a little. You and open-eyed Art both grimaced at him, fighting a shared smile. “But that took the rest of my energy. I call dibs on the bedroom by the kitchen.” He said, walking away, you followed him with your head turning.

“Goodnight, Patrick!” Art called.

“Goodnight, Art!”

“Goodnight, Patrick!” You called back.

“Goodnight Y/N!” He yelled as he shut the door. There was a lot of yelling involved when these two were around. You sighed, tipping slowly so your head could rest on the arm rest opposite the one Art’s legs were draped over. You looked at him, his eyes shut again, his head still happily in your lap.

It was just you and him. They say a trio never works because there’s always a duo, but for the three of you, every duo had its purpose. From an outsiders perspective, Patrick and Art as a duo were best friends, pals, tennis freaks who shared their passion and worked together. Fire and Ice.

You and Patrick were something else. Some people would say something like you and Patrick had a love-hate relationship but it was all love and all hate all of the time. Little quips and jabs at each other, debating things all of the time.

And from an outsiders perspective there was no way Art wasn’t completely in love with you. There just wasn’t a chance that he wasn’t. Nobody ever looked at you and Art and thought first that you were only friends. You didn’t act like friends much. You were usually touching in some form but it was like that with Patrick too, but admittedly not as much.

You stayed still a while and you were pretty sure that Art had fallen asleep on your lap. “Art,” you whispered. Nothing. He was asleep. You wondered if you ever looked so peaceful when you slept. You felt terrible leaving him there but you were nifty in replacing your thighs for a pillow, not even making him stir in the slightest. You grabbed him a blanket, covered him up and turned out the lamp. “Goodnight.” You whispered, heading to your room. You flopped down on the pillow and it was lights out.

Falling asleep at nine thirty had the perks of helping you wake up early. You woke up quietly, still in the clothes from the day before so you changed into your jean shorts and a big t-shirt, brushed your hair and did a little bit of makeup- cottage style because you didn’t need much out here.

The boys liked to sleep in, so you knew they’d be up a little after you, given the time they all fell asleep. You got up and walked past Art, still fast asleep on the couch, curled into a ball. You quietly started on breakfast, chopping peppers, cutting pre-sliced ham, cracking eggs into a pan. He was far enough away that it wasn’t too loud and he stirred on his own. You heard him get up and turned to face him.

He cracked his neck as he stood up and walked wordlessly over to you cooking your omelets. He yawned before he spoke, stretching his arms up into the air, a peek of the v in his waist and happy trail just barely showing. He dropped his arms to his side. “Good morning,” he said, yawning again. He put a hand on your shoulder as he passed you, trailing it over to your other shoulder as he opened the fridge and grabbed the juice.

“Good morning,” you replied as he grabbed two cups and poured the juice into both. He slid one over to where you were cooking. “Thank youuuu.” You smiled. He kissed your shoulder and slid past again.

Patrick opened the door of his bedroom, “I smell food.” He said. It wasn’t like him to say good morning anyway. His eyes panned to the stove, then you.” Oh hey housewife.” Patrick said, walking into the kitchen and stealing the cup of orange juice Art had poured you. Art took a seat at the table just behind where you were cooking.

“Hey househusband,” you said, giving Patrick your spatula, swapping it out for the juice and taking a seat next to Art. “Oh you don’t like cooking? Too bad.” You said.

Patrick fake-sneered at you before smiling and finishing up the eggs. You looked at Art and clinked your cups of orange juice together. Art cleared his throat, “I think we should play scrabble and head down for a swim after breakfast. Thoughts?”

“What about snakes and ladders instead?” You pitched, Art’s eyes widened and he grinned a yes.

“Sounds good,” Patrick agreed. “Though you know I’ll kick both of your asses. I’m really good at snakes and ladders.”

Art chuckled, “You can’t be good at snakes and ladders, buddy. It’s a dice game.”

“What can I say?” Patrick said, swinging the spatula around. “I’m good with dice.”

“Uh huh,” you nodded sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at Patrick. He stuck out his tongue right back at you and you turned, tongue still out to Art, who tried to nab it, but was too slow.

Breakfast was good, the morning into afternoon plans set. Patrick, of course, came last in snakes and ladders. You all went and changed into your swimsuits when things had digested. You brought a book and a towel down to the little beach of the cottage but you knew you wouldn’t be reading it. You took pride in being faster than the boys because you did get to sit in your coverup for about five minutes, just you and the water and the roar of boats on the lake. Your grandparents owned a boat but you’d take it out later, probably.

The boys didn’t just come down to the beach, they came rolling. Patrick shoved Art right into the shallows, splashing you and your coverup. Time to yourself was over, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re an ass!” Art called from a few feet in. Shirt off, blonde curls soaked down. He slicked his hair back. “I’ll get you back for that, I swear to god.”

“From there?” Patrick laughed from the boat dock. “You’re going to get me from down there?”

“No, but I will,” you said, shoving Patrick into the water from behind. He fell from the dock and right into the shallows, splashing Art. You and Art couldn’t contain your laughter watching Patrick blow water from his nose.

“It burns,” he said, chuckling and wiping water from his eyes. You and Art kept laughing like you were mad. You, planning on jumping in, dropping your coverup on the dry deck and you kept laughing, but neither of the boys did. You didn’t notice, though.

They, however, noticed you. Being friends for so long, they knew what you looked like, but they were still boys. You in a bikini was a treasure neither of them could pass up on for themselves. If anyone asked yeah they’d deny it, but they both thought you were quite hot from time to time…. Art, more so.

Patrick nudged Art twice in the arm as they both, open-mouthed watched you walk to the end of the dock into the deeper area. Neither of them took their eyes off you, Patrick grabbing Art’s arm for some form of support like ‘you’re seeing this too’ for the new bikini moment.

Art was seeing it for sure. The bikini. You. He was seeing you for sure… You turned at the end of the dock and both boys had to pretend like they weren’t staring. “Are you coming?” You called. Both boys snapped into it and started swimming as you jumped in, splashing them both.

You surfaced and it turned into a full blown splash fight, all of you treading and swimming around trying to avoid each other swimming underwater. You went a little more shallow where you could all touch and it was worse then, gaining the ability to dodge better, stand and fall.

Wordlessly, Art and Patrick called a truce and both turned on you, Art holding you like a shield as Patrick used all the force of his arms to splash you. Art let go a little early so you wouldn’t feel how he was feeling about so much of your skin against his. He couldn’t help it- it was you

“Okay! Okay, please! Truce!” You yelled above the sound of churned water, spitting lake water from your mouth. You held your hands in front of you and wiped the water from your face, moving your wet hair from your face. Patrick obliged, his arms were tired. You started laughing, finally able to breathe, standing up in the water, your bikini in full view again, you in full view. “Oh my god, you’re ruthless.” You sighed, hands on your hips.

“Only what’s deserved for that stunt on the dock,” Patrick retorted, stepping forward and tapping you under your chin. He was in your face, you stuck your tongue out and got his nose. Patrick lunged for you but you leapt back into the water to escape, back toward Art who was quietly hyper-fixated on how your the sides of your bathing suit were only tied in a bow…

You swam around behind Art and wrapped your arms around his neck, wet skin on wet skin. “You have to save me,” you giggled in his ear and he was glad you were behind him instead of in front. Instead, Art just tilted himself backwards, dunking you under the water.

After an hour of swimming, you were all sitting in the wooden lawn chairs near the beach, surrounding the fire pit. Patrick and Art were engaged in some conversation about their last tennis game and you got to lay in the sun, eyes shut, body stretched out.

Patrick kept his voice low, “You see the bows on the side?”

Art’s eyes widened, “Yes! Yes I saw them.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Do you ever forget what she looks like?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Patrick nodded. “I usually see her the same way I did when we were in grade four, but sometimes I wonder about it and you have to admit, she-“

“Looks great. Yeah.” Art agreed, glancing over at you sunbathing.

“How many boners do you have left, goddamn,” Patrick teased Art, shoving him a little from his chair. Art just laughed.

Come dinner, you changed out of your bathing suits and into comfier clothes. You sat around the fire and roasted hot dogs. Patrick ate an entire pack shamelessly and you and Art each had two. You debated zombie apocalypse survival tactics and you and Patrick were getting a bit heated and you both ended up standing up. Art just watched, leaned back in his chair. You were passionate.

You huffed when Patrick won the debate, not listening to your side of reason and you decided it was better to just sit on Art’s lap. He didn’t expect it, but it was somewhat normal. You had your legs sideways over the chair and you in your shorts was sitting on him. Naturally, one hand of his went against your back and the other rested on top of your thighs. He was praying to god you couldn’t feel the seventh boner of the day. “Realistically, don’t you think the apocalypse would die down? They’re rotting people, they’d probably decompose anyways. Your theory sucks.” You said, finalizing the argument.

Art nodded, shrugging. “I think she’s right.” He nodded.

“You’re dick-riding,” Patrick told Art. “Tell me it wouldn’t be cool to have a bunker anyway.”

“It would be cool to have a bunker,” Art reasoned with you, looking up at you from under you.

“It would be cool, but necessary? Probably not.” You said. “Plus it’s not about being cool, it’s about being alive.”

Patrick shook his head, “I think being cool and alive are both important.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. The crickets chirped and the sun set and you stayed out there until the mosquitos became too much. Patrick put the fire out and you all headed up for another few board games and rounds of crazy 8’s until you were yawning.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” You passed by Art, kissing him on the top of the head and by Patrick, roughing up his hair. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” Art said, following you with his eyes as you slipped into the far bedroom. Patrick echoed the goodnight. Art put his head in his hands immediately. “She’s insane.”

“I was going to say-“ Patrick said, voice down. “That lap move was crazy. You in your swim trunks too, man that has to be hard.” He chuckled at the double entendre. “I would be too.”

“It was so bad,” Art groaned, rubbing his face. “I’m just pretending she felt nothing.”

Patrick grinned and slapped him on the back, “I would too, buddy. I would too. Good luck.”

“Gee, thanks,” Art said. Patrick stood up and turned a few of the lights out. “You heading to bed?”

Patrick grinned, his dimple crawling up his face. “Ehh… something like that.” He winked and said goodnight, shutting the door to his room. Art wondered if he should do the same, considering. He chose against and just went to bed… hard again.

You woke up first again. The morning was chilly and the clouds covered the morning sun. You had packed a sweater but it was thin and you still shivered in it as you made up the pancake batter. You swore Patrick slept in just to be off of cooking duty…

You shivered over the stove, but Art’s big Stanford sweater was draped over the back of the couch. God, you were so glad. You pulled off the thin one and put on the big sweater with your comfortable leggings. It was much better. Your hair was still messed and wavy from the lake water, but you’d managed to clip it up again before pouring the batter into the pan. Like clockwork, Art was up.

He did a double take when he saw what you were wearing. He didn’t mind, but he had to admit he liked that you were wearing it. It smelled like him, you noted. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Good morning,” he replied, his hair a mess of blonde curls, perfect bedhead. You hated how boys could just wake up gorgeous, it wasn’t fair. “How did you sleep?” He asked.

“Like a baby,” you replied. “You?”

“I don’t even think I rolled over once,” he said, smiling. He started to set three plates on the table along with the cutlery. “My sweater?” He teased, tugging at it as he went by.

You grinned, “Yes I stole it, but it’s freezing this morning. I needed it.”

“Hey, I’m not mad,” he shrugged. “Looks better on you than me.”

You played the pancakes. “Really?”

“Yeah. Keep it if you want, honestly. Lend it to me now and again, but you can have it.”

Patrick opened the door to his room, yawning. “This is why you’re my favourite,” you spoke up, eyeing him in his doorframe, loud enough so Patrick could hear. Art laughed watching Patrick’s expression change.

“I thought I was your favourite,” Patrick said, arms up in the air in mock-disbelief. “You just go around telling every guy that?”

You tossed Patrick a pancake like a frisbee which he caught. “Nice try. It’s only Art.”

“Is it?” Art said, grabbing the syrup. He looked you in the eyes, pretending to judge. “I’m okay with Patrick and I being sisterwives. We’ve been sisterwives before.”

“Y/N and I are the only sisterwives here,” Patrick said, mouth full of pancake. “Both married to you apparently. So are we day drinking today or what?” He sat at the table.

You laughed, extending your legs so your calfs rested on Art’s lap like a human footrest. You and Art chuckled, “I think that’s something for tomorrow.” Art said. “I want to take the boat out.”

“And you don’t want hard lemonade on a boat?” Patrick gasped, leaning in and putting both hands on the table. “Boring!”

“Okay, maybe,” you nodded. “But we have to have one night dedicated to being drunk that’s why I brought what I did.” You grinned. “Gotta save the supply.”

“Good plan,” Art agreed.

A day spent on the boat was fun. It was a lot of laughter and card games and maybe a hard lemonade or two. You wore a one-piece this time that had shorts built in so it was a little easier for Art and Patrick. Patrick wasn’t afraid of any seaweed and jumped right into a patch and Art found it cute how you could barely look down at the water in the seaweed patch. Seaweed grossed you out.

You and Art sat thigh to thigh almost the whole time aside from when you’d gotten up to twirl a bit to the music on the boat’s radio. He watched you in your bucket hat and sunglasses sway and spin and you were so gorgeous…

Sunset burned red in the sky and you headed back, having spent the whole day either in the shade or the sun on the boat. You were tired, more tired than either of the boys, you leaned against Art in the driver’s bench of the boat as he steered the boat back to the dock. He was acutely aware of your eyelashes as when you blinked with your face smushed against his arm he could just feel it. It was sweet. Patrick anchored the boat and Art scooped you up no problem from where you sat.

“I’m not that tired,” you complained, but you secretly liked it. Patrick smacked you in the foot that was raised in the air from the way Art had you. “Hey, stop it!” You called. Patrick stole you right out of Art’s arms and your tiredness faded for a moment as you fought him- Patrick nearly fell in the water. “God you’re such a freak!” You called out as Patrick hopped up the steps to the cottage. “Art, help!” You called out.

Art just grinned and followed. Patrick did set you down and you went and showered the day off in the shitty little cottage bathroom. You came back out after your shower in just your shorts and Art’s sweater. He could tell you didn’t have a bra on. It was cute.

He took his turn to shower, leaving Patrick with the cold water shamelessly. He complained, but it was funny. You and Art laid on the couch, this time your head rested on his leg. Art gently traced the brighter bits in your hair, just the pieces that shined a little extra while wet, with a gentle finger. You were tired. Art pulled your hair back from out of your face, “Let’s get you to bed, hm?” All your dancing and swimming and boating and sun just about wiped you out. This time, Patrick in the shower, nothing stopped Art from picking you up and taking you to the room you’d claimed. He awkwardly but surprisingly was able to move the blankets back with his foot and he set you down gently on the sheets, making sure your pillow was under your head. You were hardly awake, the way you were so completely and utterly exhausted. He moved your hair from your face just once more and pulled the blanket over you, but as he got up from the edge of your bed you stopped him.

“Just one more minute,” you said. It didn’t make much sense, one more minute of what? But how could he say no?

He left when you were fully asleep and intended on going to bed himself but Patrick challenged him to a game of cards and he obliged. Patrick grabbed Art’s knee. “You’re looking at her way too much, man.”

“Uh huh and you don’t? I see you stare just as much as I do,” Art smirked, playing his good cards. “She’s pretty, it’s hard to see past that.”

“A little too pretty. I wish I brought a porno just so I can remember that she’s not actually all that.” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, he meant it as in you weren’t the only girl in the world. He said it, but it was part of the loving insults he liked to throw out.

“Mmm,” Art nodded. “We should head into town tomorrow for some cigarettes.”

“Good idea,” Patrick said, squeezing Art’s knee and grinning wide. “I need that and a few shots at the local bar and the sight of a woman. ’m sure Y/N would like a few hours to sunbathe.”

Art grinned too, “Yeah, I think so.”

And the next day rolled around just the same. The boys explained their plan and you were more than on board with a few hours to yourself. They headed out and you went down to the beach to sit under your umbrella and read.

Patrick grabbed Art’s leg in the car as they pulled up to the local bar. “I don’t even care who I see, I just need to remind myself there are other women in the world.” Patrick jogged in and Art decided to wander to the nearby convenience to pick up some cigarettes. He grabbed those and some red liquorice, knowing it’s one of your favourites. He also grabbed some more matches and a lighter just in case, paying for it all and walking back to the car. Patrick stood outside it, looking a little sulked.

“Not a single woman in there. I give up. Had two shots though,” he grinned. Art held up the cigarettes and Patrick brightened right up. They shared one and got back in the car for the trip back.

You went swimming again, so you showered in your bikini and were walking around in it when the boys came back. Your coverup draped and tied around your waist. You had a plum in one hand, your book in the other and you were visible at the side of the house where the boys had parked the car. The two of them were coming out of the car when they both laid eyes on you at the same time, both instinctively putting their arms out to stop each other in their tracks. Patrick’s arm across Art’s chest and Art’s arm across Patrick’s.

Their arms dropped simutaneously. “Fuck.” Patrick said.

Art nodded. There wasn’t much else to say.

You didn’t notice them until they walked in, Art holding the new lighter, cigarettes and some red liquorice. You grinned. “That was fast. You were gone, what? Two hours?”

Both boys were a little dazed. You put your book down, wiping your lower lip of the juice from the plum, but it was on your chin, dropped onto your chest. They both just watched you, mouthes a little open. You looked down, confused. Immediately both boys went separate ways.

You shrugged, tossing the pit of your plum out the window and into the garden.

Dinner was nice, by the fire again. You’d broken out the hard lemonades again and vodka and orange soda. Unfortunately for Art and Patrick, you’d stayed in your bikini and skirt-like cover up. It was hard to not be.

Patrick shook his head, “At what age did you guys start finding girls attractive?” He questioned, raising his can in question.

“Twelve,” you replied faster than Art did. Art and Patrick raised their eyebrows.

“Uh… Twelve, yeah,” Art agreed, taking a sip of his drink, eyes on you. You just smiled.

You finished your drink, “I think that’s around when Patrick taught you that neat little lesson.” You teased, reaching over and rubbing Art’s shoulder.

His head fell into his empty hand, “Please, no. Not that.” He groaned, but he was smiling.

“Teach a man to fish,” Patrick said, trailing off and cracking you another can, exchanging it for your empty one. “You can never say I’m good for nothing on that one, Art.”

“Okay, well who was doing it first?” Art questioned Patrick, tossing a stick he’d been fidgeting with.

“Me, I just knew from an early age,” he grinned. “I’m curious though, when did that happen for you?” He asked you, shifting a little in his seat and grinning directly at Art, who shifted just the same.

You bit your lip thinking, “I think around thirteen, maybe. The shower head.” You grinned. Art hid his face. “I was a little bit creative.”

“Does that even count?” Patrick said. “If you’re not putting in the work yourself.”

“I think so,” you replied. “That followed soon enough after.”

Art adjusted himself again. Patrick was watching him squirm, teasing indirectly. He knew the effect this conversation would have on him. You brought it up anyway, it wasn’t his fault.

“First kiss at sixteen,” you sighed. “Was not fun.”

Art turned to you, “I thought it was fifteen?”

“Sixteen. Bella James. Then I kissed a guy for the first time about a few months later.”

“I forgot about that,” Patrick said, huge smirk on his face. “I still have that photo of you and Bella somewhere in my room.”

“Shut up, you do not,” you gasped, grabbing the arm of the lawn chair. “Art-“

“He’s seen it,” Patrick nodded.

“It’s true.” Art cringed. “Hot, though.”

“Was it?”

“Oh yeah,” Art smiled over at you. You rolled your eyes at both of them, standing up. “Where are you going?”

You shook your head, “To get my watermelon vodka.” You stated. “I need something stronger.”

Both boys watched you go up the steps to the cottage, shamelessly. The second you were inside, Patrick moved from his chair over to Art. “That was too good.”

“It was not,” Art groaned. “She’s too much.”

“It’s not just me, then,” Patrick said, leaning into Art, crouched next to him in the chair. “I should have picked up a magazine when we were out earlier.”

You returned down the steps and Patrick returned to his chair. You’d changed back into Art’s sweater and a skort. You had a shot on your way down the steps and sat right back in Art’s lap like the day before.

Patrick laughed out loud and clapped but Art death stared him into silence. You three drank until it was hard not to laugh at simple things and Patrick and you got back into another debate about which flavour of sour patch kid is best. Art sided with you because nothing beat the blue one.

You were standing up, thank god Art could fix where his dick was in his boxers while you yelled at Patrick over the orange sour patch kids. Art just leaned onto his hand, watching you, watching Patrick. It was the stupidest thing.

Patrick got in your face as per usual and you stared right back. His intimidation would never work on you. “Orange tastes like ass,” Patrick said, voice lowered now.

“And you’d know, bottom-feeder,” you chuckled with a smirk, getting closer to Patrick’s face. Art grinned. You were so perfect.

Patrick narrowed his eyes, looking down at you with the heat of the debate in his expression. “At least I actually get ass and don’t just have one.”

You laughed, “That’s supposed to offend me? That’s a compliment, Patrick. A good attempt, though.”

He rolled his eyes, “Nobody said it was nice.”

“Art will testify,” you said, nodding back at Art. His eyes widened. “Tell Patrick it’s nice.”

“It’s nice,” Art obliged.

You turned back to Patrick, “See?”

“You made him say it,” Patrick shrugged, tapping the side of his own nose. “If he meant it he’d say it for himself.”

“I hear what you say about me behind closed doors, Patrick, and I think you do think it’s nice.” You taunted him. Patrick’s smirk only grew bigger and he tapped you under the chin again. Art sat up. Heard them? That wasn’t good…

Patrick, half-lidded, looked at you like a meal. Art, who was adjusted well enough, got a handle on your hips and pulled you back away from him and back onto his lap. You thought nothing of it, just getting comfortable back on Art’s lap like it was the simplest thing on earth. Your arm around him you played with the curls at the back of his head. The debate was over, it had gone a little too far.

Patrick, hard, sat back in his chair and mumbled, “I still think orange is the worst out of all of them.”

“Dead wrong,” you mumbled as well.

Art huffed, his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing up and down your skin. You looked him in the eyes, a bit of a pout to your lips. Art wondered if you’d heard what he had said about you, wishing maybe he’d phrased things better, wondering if they bothered you. He stared back, looking at how the flickering flames danced across your face.

“I’m going to bed, I’ve had too much.” Rare words from Patrick, but it was a debate you both lost this time and maybe it was a little discouraging. Patrick was a big drinker so of course he stumbled up those steps. “See you guys tomorrow.” He said.

“Goodnight!” Art called.

“Goodnight,” you spoke, attention back on Art. You and Patrick were a few drinks deeper than Art, it’s why the debate was a little much. You looked back at Art, your hand still playing with his curls, twirling them, pushing his hair behind his ear. One of his hands rested on the back of your arm, thumb still rubbing over your soft skin and the other hand resting on your knee, doing the very same. “You’re quiet.” You hummed, pushing your fingers through his hair gently.

“You’re drunk,” Art replied with a small smile. “I’m just thinking.”

“Mhm, what about?” You asked, eyes still locked on his. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes still bright and matching his small, sweet smile.

He looked at you, over you, softly. “Just you.” He replied.

“What about me?” You prodded, hand still gently twirling his curls.

“You’re pretty,” Art told you. You grinned and pressed one hand over half of your face shyly. “And I think I like you a lot more than I knew... Or would admit.” He admit slowly, but he grinned.

You grinned right back, but you shook your head a little, “I hate that I’ll forget this. You have to tell me again tomorrow so I remember.”

He laughed, “I will, I will.” He didn't want to- he didn't know if he could. And he looked at your perfect lips in the orange glow. He could have kissed you, but he would have hated for you to forget it. Your lips pulled with that same smile and Art patted your leg twice. For now, I think we should get you some water.”

“Do you really think my ass is nice?” You asked him, climbing off of his lap. “Just since we’re on the topic, I mean.” Art nodded and it seemed to be the right answer. He put out the fire and helped you upstairs. After a glass of water, you thanked him at the door of your bedroom. “Goodnight, Art.” You said. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms went perfectly around your torso and he squeezed you tight. You kissed his cheek to say a final goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Art told you. He went to bed after that.

Art and Patrick had a moment alone the next day. They knew you were out of earshot for sure this time, watching you down by the beach, pulling out the kayaks.

“I’d have her babies,” Patrick said, looking at you. “Please tell me something good happened after I came up here and passed out.”

Art couldn’t tell Patrick what he’d said last night. “Mmm no. We only talked a minute and came back up here. You guys need to chill out on the debate stuff, that’s all I know.”

“Oh you wish you were in on all that. She’s in my face, Art, you saw it. It’s so easy to rile her up, you should try it.”

Art shrugged, “Maybe, yeah, but come on, she said she heard what you said about her behind closed doors. We can’t be objectifying her just because she’s the only girl around.” He said.

Patrick twisted his mouth to the side. “I don’t know, I thought she liked it.”

“Maybe, but I mean… can’t be too safe.” Art shrugged again. “I just don’t want her uncomfortable. Not with us.”

“She couldn’t be, come on. It’s us. She’s used to it by now I’m sure.”

“Just ease up,” Art said. “Make sure she’s far out of earshot otherwise.” They were both men, they knew how they acted when a woman was hot, but Art was a little too worried.

The day passed and it was good. More swimming, more eating. Patrick ate four burgers, buns and all like it was nothing. You had an afternoon nap on the couch, Art falling asleep with his head on your stomach, arms wrapped around your legs. Patrick chuckled to himself as he passed it- it was a sight for sure.

Dinner was simple, then it was over. Art wondered if you remembered what he’d said. He guessed not, taking your drunken word that you hadn’t remembered. You were in the kitchen talking to Patrick about your watermelon vodka and he was leaned against the marble, face close to yours. Maybe it bothered Art how close he was to you. It wasn’t anything new, Patrick liked to lean into whoever he was talking to.

Art had to remind himself you hadn’t said anything to him last night after he said what he said. He usually watched you and Patrick talk because it was funny, but this time something in Art’s chest tightened.

Maybe it was the fact you were the only girl around, he thought. It wasn’t though. Art has liked you for years upon years without admitting it to anyone, hardly to himself. You were just best friends, that’s how things were. Yeah, he thought about kissing you. Yeah, he wondered what you’d look like under him. But he wouldn’t admit it. It wasn’t the fact you were the only girl but rather the fact you were the only girl. If that made any sense.

Art walked over, standing beside you. You instinctively put your arm around his waist and leaned against him like a pole and it brought some ease to Art’s moment of jealousy as he draped his arm around your shoulder. Patrick and Art locked eyes and with a furrow of his brow, Patrick narrowed his eyes. “So are we drinking again?”

“If you want,” you shrugged, handing him the bottle. “Art?”

“Sure, yeah,” Art nodded, looking at you. He liked the way your hand rested on the opposite side of him, around his torso. “Let’s not start debates tonight though, mkay?”

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled. “What was last night’s?”

“Sour patch kids,” Patrick said, opening the vodka and taking a swig. He passed the bottle to Art, who did the same. “That’s so good, what.”

Art nodded, “That is good.” He passed you the bottle, but you only had a sip. You weren’t looking to not remember the night again. Plus waking up in the morning was hard enough. “Not drinking?”

“Not much,” you nodded.

“That’s okay,” Art nodded back.

The night went forward and the boys were getting drunk and you only the slightest bit tipsy. Part of you knew that both of them drunk meant babysitting so they didn’t try and reach for the boat keys and die.

You sat on the coach the drunk boys had dragged outside and only the back porch of the cottage- you stopped them from bringing it down the stairs. Patrick sat next to you pulling you in and messing up your hair. “Hey- come on,” you laughed. It was impossible to mess up a boy’s hair, especially when it was curly. “That’s not fair.”

“Alls fair in love and war,” Patrick replied.

You laughed harder, “Where did you hear that?” It was so weird to hear from Patrick’s mouth. “You’re so weird.”

“I’m weird?” Patrick said, letting you go but keeping you close. His hand fell to your thigh. “If anyone here is weird it’s you.”

“Uh huh?” You smiled. “Me? Not you who decides to bring a couch outside? Not you who ate an entire pack of hot dogs after saying you weren’t hungry?” You smiled and twisted into sitting on your knees, facing him.

Art came back from the bathroom, rubbing his eyes, opening them to see you and Patrick the way you were. He was drunk, more so than the night before and that was a bit much. Patrick did the thing he’d done forever, tapping you under your chin, but your faces were so close…

“You have so many freckles,” you observed. “You can hardly see them if you don’t look.”

“You’re really ugly up close,” Patrick retorted and you hit him upside the head playfully. Art stood by the screen doorway. “Okay, I’m sorry! You’re really pretty!”

“Oh you think I’m pretty?” You questioned as if it was something to challenge. Patrick, half-lidded tapped under your chin again. Art felt sick. If there was something to be jealous about it’s that you would probably remember Patrick calling you pretty, not Art.

“Maybe,” Patrick leaned closer and he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t, not yet. Art swallowed hard. Your faces were inches from each other’s. Even through the alcohol Art felt the twinges in his chest and stomach.

“Patrick,” you started, slowly backing away. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe to that too,” he shrugged. You backed away more. Art couldn’t do it, he opened the door and stepped out back onto the porch. You turned your head and grinned at his reproach. Art didn’t say anything, he just grabbed the vodka and took what looked like a painful two gulps.

“Oh-“ you started, but Art wiped his lip and sat back down on the couch next to you and you rearranged the way you sat immediately to be closer to Art. Art didn’t even look at Patrick, instead, he just pulled you onto his lap. This time, it wasn’t of your own volition. You didn’t think anything of it. Patrick just used the extra space on the couch for his feet.

The conversation was fine. Civil with a lot of laughter, Art could get into it but the extra vodka he’d had was being pumped around his bloodstream without a doubt. Instead of his hand resting on your upper knee, it rested on your thigh and his thumb grazed back and forth like it did the night before. He was lucky to have a moment to adjust himself because even with the amount of alcohol he’d had, his body still held enough attraction. You were smiling, so beautiful, Art thought.

Patrick knew he’d fucked up but the alcohol helped to make him not worry about it too much. You pat Art on the cheek, “You and Patrick have kissed, right?” You asked out of the blue. The two looked at each other.

“Uh- hm- yeah,” Art said, clearing his throat, looking at Patrick.

You smiled, finishing a can of point five alcohol. “Okay so I have a question. Would you guys call each other a good kisser?”

Art and Patrick shared another look and you just giggled. They both didn’t know what to say- Patrick shrugged and Art opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t. Both boys went through a few stages in a matter of seconds and Patrick let out a strangled sort of, “Yes?”

“Yes?” You gasped, turning to look at Art.

“Sure?” Art shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t really… remember. It was two years ago.” He slightly slurred.

Patrick agreed. “It was a while back.” You giggled again, Patrick shrugged. “I mean, you’ve kissed Art for fun, you’d know if he is or not.”

You gasped a little, “Oh that’s right! The spin the bottle in senior year, I totally forgot about that!” You turned back to Patrick, “It was only a peck, though. Just a quick kiss.”

Art hadn’t forgotten it. Today he was thinking that would be the only time he got to kiss you. He stared at your lips now, their colour perfect, so soft, he was a little dazed. You and Patrick talked about how you only joked about being sisterwives, but it was more true than you remembered. Art just stared, his hands moving over your hips and wrapping around your waist, looking up at you. God, you were so perfect and he was very drunk.

He felt oddly at ease with how you’d been with Patrick earlier. You’d refused him, backing away when he got closer and Art could be happy with that. You didn’t mind Art’s hands around your waist. At first it was positioned like a hug around the waist but now it was just hands, his grip. The curve of your waist was so perfect, you were so perfectly structured. His finger slid across the hem of your shirt and touched a sliver of your skin and you were so soft, too soft. Art, sweet, no matter how much he drank, no matter how much he felt, fixed your shirt so that he couldn’t feel your skin anymore. You bent from where you sat and kissed the top of his head.

There was a shared cigarette amongst friends and you got up from Art’s lap and trailed your hand across his cheek as you went inside to get your sweater on. His sweater. It was the first moment Art and Patrick were alone since the morning.

“You like her,” Patrick said, taking a drag off the near-end of the cigarette and handing it over to Art. Art, dazed, drunk, nic-buzzed, just nodded. “Thought so.”

Art inhaled, exhaling the smoke and passing it back, “Might just.” He said, a bit slurred, rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m so fucked, hm?”

“Maybe, yeah,” Patrick chuckled, leaning forward and ruffling Art’s hair. Art flushed a bit, turning just the slightest bit pink. It was a sort of unspoken apology for getting so close to you, is what that action meant.

“This sucks,” Art mumbled. He admit it, somewhat, out in the open for the first time. Art closed his eyes and the world spun around him and he flopped backward on the couch. Your hands are what woke him- he’d passed right out, so tired.

You pat him on the cheek, “Hey, let’s get you some water and to bed.” You said. Patrick helped Art to his feet and he leaned against him walking into the house. “That was a lot of vodka.” You said, giving him water. You held it with him just in case he dropped it. You made him drink the whole cup.

“Mmmhhm,” Art smiled. You were so pretty, so sweet, so caring. “You know you’re a remarkably beautiful woman.” He said, slurring. He said it very matter-of-factly. You chuckled at his choice of words.

“Thank you, lovely,” you smiled, helping him to bed.

“Goodnight drunk Art,” He heard Patrick like an echo. Patrick left the room. He didn’t say goodnight back. He was focused on the lovely part.

Art took his shirt off, throwing it across the room and immediately fell limp on his pillow again, you’d stayed. You put your hand on his chest and he grabbed it. The last thing he remembered was saying, “I’m so fucked.” Before it was suddenly morning.

Art groaned and rolled out of bed, not even caring that he rolled onto the carpet on the floor. He just picked himself up and rubbed his eyes, leaving the bedroom. No headache, just super groggy.

He opened the bedroom door and you and Patrick were sitting opposite sides of the coffee table, different couches. It had been moved back at some point. Art was a little relieved to see how far apart you were. He remembered most of last night, to his dismay. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you said, getting up. “How are you feeling?”

Art was so glad he had hit or miss hangovers. “Gross, but fine.” He replied. You walked into the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee from the pot, making it exactly how he liked it. You put it in his hands, “Thank you.” He smiled.

“Of course,” you smiled back. You both went to sit on the couch and the conversation about the day included plans of swimming and going back out on the boat once Art was feeling better.

The day was good, warm. The same as any. Art felt better about noon. You were on the boat yelling lyrics to an Avril Lavigne song and Patrick was unabashedly singing along. Art felt so much better, clapping when you shoved Patrick right off the boat at the chorus. You raised your hands above your head triumphantly and jumped a few times.

Art, of course, helped Patrick get back onto the boat, only to get pulled into the water. You couldn’t stop laughing but it was only a matter of time before both boys manage to wrangle you into the water with them, Patrick throwing seaweed at you as you screamed. You clung onto Art in the water as if he was a stable point. Your eyes met, eyelashes wet and you fought your smile as best you could.

Dinner was hot dogs again by the fire and it was followed by s’mores. All day you hadn’t been able to get your mind off of the way Art had held your waist last night. You knew he was out of it, he called you ‘remarkably beautiful’, but in every moment you had to yourself you were trying to relive the feeling, almost like the ghost of his hands were still there. You thought about when his hand slipped under the bottom of your shirt and touched your bare skin…

Patrick snapped in your face. “Earth to Y/N. I’m beat, I’m heading up to bed early tonight if that’s okay.”

“Oh yeah, that’s fine.” You said. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight!” Art called.

“Night guys!” Patrick went upstairs and turned the lights out. That left you and Art down by the fire alone.

You stood up, pulling your hair over your shoulder. Another night in Art’s sweater and your shorts. “You coming?” You asked. His eyes narrowed.

“Where?”

You shrugged, “With me.” And you smiled just a little, walking down the dock. The moon reflecting off the lake was the brightest light around. It was warm, yellow, nearly. Warm July moonlight, chopping itself up in the gentle waves. Art followed you, why wouldn’t he? “I don’t think I want to go back to the city after this.” You sighed, sitting on the edge of the dock. Art sat next to you.

“Me neither,” he chuckled, moving some hair from your face. “Patrick might go stir crazy, though, so if you planned on keeping us with you, don’t.”

You grinned, letting him tuck the hair behind your ear in the soft wind. He stayed focused on every move of your features, the way your eyelashes moved when you looked up, then down, then back at him. “You think you’d miss tennis?”

“I probably would eventually,” he said. “But this week, no. I don’t miss it. It’s good to be away from training and practicing and all the pressure and just be with friends.”

You nodded, “I understand. It’s been good to get away from things. Reminds me of when we would spend the summers in the forest, before tennis, before work, before school. All that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think Patrick misses that a lot. He lives in the past a lot, thinking about when things were ‘better’. I mean he doesn’t do much aside from tennis at all so I get it, but he’s very hung up on it. Misses it.”

“You don’t miss it?”

He met your eyes, “I do miss it. But like in a fond way, not in the way where I wish I was still there.” He shrugged. “I don’t particularly enjoy thinking about how I looked when we were running around those forests.”

“Braces and buzzcut,” you smiled. “I remember.”

“You shouldn’t,” Art laughed. “How could I forget about the three tank tops you layered on top of each other?”

“Fashion statement versus buzzcut…” you hummed, teasing, leaning your head into his shoulder and rocking back. “I miss it.”

He looked at you with everything he thought about you resting on his tongue. You, here, moonlit in the night, so perfect. He smiled, only the simplest, most fond things filled his mind. You narrowed your eyes at him, but you knew. “What’s on your mind?” You asked.

Art took a moment to answer. He was too sober to tell you, you were too sober to tell. It was you, just as it was the other night. You on his mind- his best friend, one of his closest friends, keeper of his boyish secrets, one of two people in this world who could read his mind. He wondered if you could read his mind right now as his heart beat hard in his chest over the question. You could, but he kept wondering.

You took his sweater off and underneath was only your bikini top. You stood up from where you sat and rid yourself of your shorts as well. Art was confused until you jumped into the water. Gracefully, easily. It was dark aside from the moon and nearby fire and for a second or two you were gone, but you resurfaced, hair wet. “You coming?” You asked again, the other question postponed. Art smiled and took off his shirt, already in his trunks, and jumped in after you.

You were in the middle, so you were both just up to your waists. You cupped water in your hands and poured it right over his head. You were so cute… he slicked his hair back and grinned his crooked grin. It was exactly what you’d been looking for. “Mhm?” Art said, wiping water from his eyes. “That’s how it is?”

“Mhm,” you replied. It was only a matter of seconds before he grabbed you and took the both of you underwater. You came up laughing and wiping your eyes. “Really?”!you said, lunging forward at him in the water- the intention was to do the same to him, but you really just wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped, dead in your tracks.

The pause was only seconds, a full action became a full stop, his eyes met yours, and not even a second later, your lips met. You kissed him, he kissed you, mutually, with the same force. Your hands moving from around his neck to his jaw and his hands on your waist. You’d kissed before but it was nothing like this, it couldn’t have been. This kiss was years in the making, subconsciously wished for, teased, thought about late night, thought about in quiet moments… and not just by Art.

His hands slid over your wet skin, over your back as your fingertips met the roots of his wet hair. He pulled you closer, his hands at the crook of your waist. From an outsiders perspective it was always supposed to end this way- and from an outsiders perspective, some would say it wasn’t just a kiss without any way to explain exactly just what it was, because they weren’t you. And they weren’t Art.

And they couldn’t ever be able to understand just how it felt when it was just you, just Art, alone in the shallows with a kiss that was strong and heavy with the weight of years and compiled collections of casual touches.

He hummed into it and you both smiled with every breath between. It was perfect, it was magic, it was sweet. The air warm, the water cool. God, you were perfect, you were so perfect and it was all Art could think about as your hands moved down and his moved up, taking his turn to cup your face between his hands and kiss you harder than before as your hand slid down his chest, across his bare stomach. You giggled at the way he kissed you harder and it made him smile but neither of you stopped for a moment, neither of you missed a beat. He pushed your wet hair behind your ear when you eventually pulled away, keeping his face close, just hovering.

Lips wet, sweet breath, a mutual sigh, that lead to a shared laugh. Art, hands still on either side of your face, kissed you again, just because he could. You kissed him back just the same and he pulled away gently once more. This time you kissed him again, like it was a newfound addiction. He chuckled and pulled you closer once more and the kiss went on a while longer, not hungry, not desperate, just easy. Waited for.

Eventually it did end and you decided to get out of the water, it was with knowing smiles that you collected your clothes and dried off again. You pulled a towel off the clothesline, drying your hair, “I have to admit I’ve wanted that for longer than you know,” you admit, fighting your lips from pulling upward.

Art, with the largest crooked grin on his face, moved closer and grabbed his own towel from earlier. “Really?”

You nodded, “Mhm.”

“Me too,” he said, sheepishly. Art was reduced to a boy the way you looked at him, your lips pink from the kissing, semi-wet hair still just blowing in the wind. Gentle. He dried his own hair and threw the towel back on the line. “How long?” He pulled you in by the crook of your waist again, batting away the fact that he as a grown man had butterflies. You just smirked.

“Too long,” you said, slipping out of his grasp and running up the steps. You spent a moment apart to get changed properly and quietly, as to not wake Patrick. He met you on the couch again, unable to stop thinking about you in any capacity. You, fully clothed, comfortable, tired, lack of makeup, hair still damp, were the most beautiful person he had ever seen and he just wanted to stare at you the way he always had, but this time knowing.

He chuckled as you leaned against him without words, draping an arm around you as you settled in against him. No more words were needed, there was not much more to say. You ended up talking until you both somehow fell asleep.

Patrick woke up before you, having gone to bed first and seeing you laying on Art’s chest, both his arms around you, one of your legs draped over his lower half, he knew.

It was the difference in distance that told him- when one of you fell asleep there was always enough respect to have levels. He got himself a cup of orange juice, came back and he knew, chuckling to himself. They say trios don’t last, but it wasn’t the end of it when you and Art got together after that trip. Just meant you and Patrick were even closer sisterwives and he was fine with that. Art was fine with that. You were fine with that.

From an outsider's perspective, they would have said nothing changed.

#art donaldson #challengers #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #challengers x reader #challengers fic #art x reader #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fluff #challengers movie #challengers fluff #tinytennisskirt

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actuallyjustabiscuit · 3 months

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Ok thoughts 👏thoughts👏Everyone gather around I have thoughts about this!

Episode 2 was clearly the Pomni episode. We got to see her character get a little more fleshed out and we also got a glimpse of what motivates her which is great.

With this tweet we have solid confirmation on who the upcoming episodes will center on (thanks for not making us guess, Goose) and this lineup is really interesting.

First fascinating thing is that Kinger and Zooble share a spotlight in ep 3. Why is that? Everyone else gets their own dedicated episodes so why are they unique in that regard? What connects them?

Well, I have one idea!

So we know since the pilot that Kinger has been the one to have lived in the Circus the longest out of all of them. We’re still not sure if he was in fact the 1st human to be trapped (maybe we’ll find out in the next episode) but he definitely has the most seniority, both in age and in length of entrapment.

We also know that Zooble was the most recent character to get stuck before Pomni (and considering their attitude, it may have even been quite a while beforehand) AND is the youngest character next to Jax (they even share the same age, which could be a coincidence but it feels too deliberate of a choice).

Which means ep 2 will simultaneously focus on the oldest and the youngest of the characters.

I’m actually curious as to what their dynamic will be because they haven’t really interacted much in the pilot (and like not at all in episode 2), if they end up interacting in ep 3 at all. But mostly I’m excited to see them more fleshed out with hopefully Pomni getting the chance to bond with them (either together or separately).

My guess is that the purpose for them to share focus on an episode is to get perspective from someone who’s been there the longest and has seen more people come and go than anyone else vs. someone who was just recently in Pomni’s shoes and had probably a much different first day experience (we know Zooble cared enough about Kaufmo to personally organize his funeral so they may have some…feelings about who’s essentially his replacement).

Ep3 is also supposedly Gooseworx’s most anticipated episode so I’m extra excited.

Next we have Gangle for episode 4. I honestly don’t have a lot to say about her or the significance in her episode placement outside of her being the closest in age to Pomni (being only a year older). The only hint we get about what her episode will possibly consist of will be on how reliant she is on her ComedyMask to feel happy, which will be very interesting and we might even get some confirmation on whether her avatar was programmed with that feature upon entering the Circus or if it was an add on of sorts by Caine to help keep her sane. A pretty shitty feature if it can’t last for very long but it does make for a nice metaphor about how fragile her facade is (girl is literally masking).

Actually I don’t think her and Pomni have actually exchanged words yet in the show. Wouldn’t it be funny if they don’t up until her episode. Like Pomni is so caught up in between whatever mess episode 3 has in store for Kinger and Zooble that the two of them never actually talk and it just keeps getting more awkward. Gangle wants to talk to her but is so self-conscious about her Tragedy self that she’ll only feel safe to have a conversation if she has her mask, but it just keeps breaking before she even gets the chance.

Again this is all just speculation, if they actually end up talking in episode 3 I’ll…make ship art of them.

Yeah

Anyway, episode 5. The one I’m personally waiting for because y’all should know what I’m about by now.

*Warning: Unhinged, borderline psychotic tangent incoming*

I swear to god if Pomni and Ragatha don’t have a fucking conversation before ep 5 I will launch myself into the sun. I’ll take anything, I just need them to get real for a second. I NEED to know the extent of this woman’s damage. It has to be explored, analyzed, and dissected and I will do so with gusto when the day comes. None of these characters will be safe from my scrutiny, but Ragatha oh ho ho, you have been living rent free in my head for too long, madame. You WILL pay your dues and I intend to collect in every episode until there is not corner of your unsound mind that I have not examined in great detail!

Ahem *Straightens tie* Ok back to business

So yeah, Ragatha.

It may be because we’ve only had 2 episodes but I can’t help but feel like we’re supposed to see Ragatha as a sort of deuteragonist since out of all of the supporting characters she’s so far been getting the most focus aside from Jax, and we’ll get to him in a minute (I promise that’s not just me being biased, or maybe it is, I don’t know, you tell me).

In just two episodes we’ve seen more of what makes her tick compared to anyone else. And of the main cast she’s been the ONLY one to make any kind of connection to the main character and have enough of a meaningful interaction with her to leave an impression.

But this is what really clinched her role as a deuteragonist for me, she’s so far been one of the few to have the narrative briefly shift to her perspective to give us significant character moments like these:

The show REALLY wants us to see just how NOT ok she is.

If she’s meant to be the heart of the group, her heart already can’t take much more damage. Her friendship (if you can call it that, it’s so painfully one sided right now) with Pomni clearly means a lot to her, so much so that her entire sense of self worth seems to be tied to it (and if you’ve been paying attention, she doesn’t have a lot of that as it is). It would be nice to see their connection gradually grow before her designated episode, where she might experience actual growth for herself.

And if episode 2 is any indication of how this show preserves friendships well…

Yeah, I don’t think she’s gonna make it.

In fact, I’m willing to bet actual money that she’s either gonna abstract in episode 5 or episode 6.

Which brings us to Jax’s episode! The other deuteragonist…tritagonist? He definitely shares some degree of significant narrative focus along with Pomni and Ragatha. He’s both an active antagonist force and one of the only characters to drive the plot forward every time he’s on screen (then there’s that weird thing where he keeps breaking the fourth wall).

He has so much significance in the story that Gooseworx gave him his own bullet point in her list of content warnings (this could also be a joke, but I mean it would be funny to see just how despicable they can make this character).

Gooseworx also described Jax and Pomni’s relationship in the show as “messy”. After episode 2, I don’t think she considers him as a candidate for any kind friendship like she did for the others, and who could blame her? In just two days the guy abandoned her to deal with an abstraction and chucked her out of a truck. He’s no one’s favorite person, and he relishes that. Bunnyboy definitely has some issues that Pomni would pick up on the more she’s forced to spend time with him. To the point where I can see her trying to eventually form some kind of bridge because, as her previously established character motivation implies, she’s not the kind of person to intentionally leave anyone high and dry. But unlike the rest of the crew, I don’t think Jax would be inclined to change for the better just because someone took pity on him. He seems like the kinda guy to dig his heels in and commit to his bad behavior out of spite.

And for his episode to come after Ragatha’s, why do I get the feeling the reason Gooseworx went so far as to preemptively apologize to bunnydoll shippers specifically is because he’s gonna cause something really really bad to happen to her (could be abstraction, could even be something much worse) that he would come to sorely regret.

And oh boy would that evoke some feelings in everyone!

I feel like if that is indeed the direction this show is going, the rest of the episodes will really be something.

I’m also certain Caine will get his own episode but right now he is very much an antagonist to these characters. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a villain, but he’s certainly not someone Pomni is keen on sympathizing with, at least not currently.

Thanks again @lilyclawthorne for helpfully providing me with the tweet so I can give some context for my ramblings of the week!

#phew finally done with this #I did NOT mean for this to get so long #I should be asleep but decided to do this instead cuz it’s been giving me serious brain rot #I feel like I should start making a specific tag for my unhinged essays #Biscuit Bakes?#Ah whatever it’ll come to me #character analysis #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc pomni #tadc kinger #tadc zooble #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc caine #tadc headcanon #I have taken WAY to many screenshots of the doll. I am not well #I feel like I could have added some more screenshots about the hints Gooseworx has given for the show but I’m too lazy to go looking

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sea-owl · 4 months

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I was just thinking about the whole Debling vs Colin thing and I kinda wanted to point this out.

Debling and Colin are actually both perfect for Penelope but different sides to her.

Debling is Lady Whistledown's perfect match while Colin is Penelope's perfect match.

Debling has work he leaves for years to do, passions that take up more of his heart than any living human would. He left behind his own family who he says never understood him but that's all we know. He wants a wife to take care of the estate and the home front. He doesn't read Whistledown, meaning he won't ever see any similarities between Penelope's writing and Lady Whistledown's. If Penelope was truly Lady Whistledown all the time like the switch was flipped and never turned off, then this is a perfect life for her. On her own, left alone, and can run her business without interference. If she wants, she can fudge the numbers a little bit to hide some of her own money away in the estate. She'll have children one day that she'll love. She will be secured. She will also continue the status quo of her life before of being alone in her own home, and I would make the argument becoming more like Portia as time would go on. Now, don't get me wrong. Debling is a good man, but he is also Lord Featherington in a different font. Penelope already knows what life with Lord Debling would look like she's seen it in her parents' marriage, in her father. Lord Featherington put his own passions before his family as well, and while he never physically left, that man completely dissociated around his family. Again this type of life would be perfect for Lady Whistledown but Penelope rightfully so hesitates.

Colin, on the other hand, while he has his own passions, will still put someone he loves first. He's willing to be there to support them if they need it. He has a close bond with his family and wants to open that bond to any potential spouse that may be folded in. Once he knows his feelings, he's not afraid to show them. He's affectionate and sensitive to others. He also I noticed forgives rather quickly meaning he has the ability to see from someone else's perspective. This is someone Penelope has dreamed of for years, and frankly kind of needs. She's been emotionally starved of affection and never has seen or heard acts of love outside the few she's had from the Bridgertons. She was raised on tough love and never really shown softness before. Colin can give her that softness, that love, and happiness. But Colin is also a horrible match for Lady Whistledown. He is always in Penelope's business and space, and if not him, another member of his family would be. All in good faith, they watch out for one another, but it would make Penelope's absence a lot more noticeable. Penelope will also be shoved in the spotlight as well marrying in and while she has craved the potential change it makes her work much harder. His disdain for Whistledown as well has been well spoken to others. He also potentially has the clues to piece together Penelope's identity. He has her letters and Lasy Whistledown is not hard to get either. If Penelope accidentally made any mistakes in either writings, like similar phrasing or she reused something from his letters in Whistledown he could clue it together. He will most likely be angry at first but I also think given time to cool off he be willing to hear her out. He's already shown he's not afraid to fight for her so what's one more round?

And the funny thing is Colin has the potential to be Lady Whistledown's match as well. He's a good writer and has been shown to engage in gossip, too. He moves fluidly around the ton, charming them and easily communicating with them. His strengths compliment can help boost where Penelope has a weakness. They can very easily become true partners, Lord and Lady Whistledown. We first just have to get Colin to warm up to the idea.

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #lord debling #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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hurtspideyparker · 6 months

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Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

#peter parker #spider man #ask #anon #fic rec #spiderman #marvel mcu #spider-man #peter parker angst #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #avengers #iron man #peter parker whump

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lili-of-the-wildfire · 8 months

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okay fine, u all forced my hand in this one. these are MY azzie headcanons, mostly based on what’s canon in the books but i’m nothing if not a woman who would have been forcefully lobotomized so there’s also some delusion sprinkled in. enjoy 😙 (not proof read or correctly punctuated or even coherently arranged, we die like men on this blog)

* he may be a bit quiet in some situations, especially when meeting people who’s intentions he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but if he does nothing else, he’ll offer up a small smile in greeting. he’s not just going to sit there aloof in a corner, sans introduction.

* he’s a total vibe reader tho, his line of work has made sure of that. like he just knows when something is off about someone even if there is evidence saying otherwise. and he’s right every time, damn him.

* he tucks his hands behind his back out of habit, not necessarily shame. he used to be far more insecure, but as the centuries dragged on, he’s become less and less ashamed of what was done to him as a defenseless child.

* that’s not to say he’s fully healed and moved forward, just that time has given him some perspective and wisdom.

* (btw he loves hand massages with your lavender and lemon verbena lotion and he is not afraid to admit it)

* when he gets himself into trouble he tries to slink off into the shadows slowly, instead of disappearing all at once. nobody has a problem calling him out on it, but sometimes he honestly does get away with it.

* he has TASTE! he took one look at cassian and feyre’s gods awful decorating and didn’t even remove his outside clothes before he was fixing it.

* he and his mate’s house would look like something out of a Williams Sonoma holiday catalog.

* the two of you would put up lebron numbers on a joint pinterest account in a modern au.

* he’s quick as a whip with his dry humor and comebacks, and while cassian may be his main target, the two of them combined?? Mr. your mother and Mr. two hundred years at least TOGETHER? jesus it’s a wonder rhys came out of Illyria with the ego that he did.

* he differs from his brothers in that PDA is not his jam. he’s not getting blowjobs at the dining room table or fucking in tents while people die outside. he’s definitely not fingering you for the first time in a shabby inn, either. he’s more publicly reserved than that because he favors romance more.

* you know how rhys/feyre and cassian/nesta fucked before they were in any sort of relationship? azzie’s not doing that with someone he genuinely wants to pursue a relationship with.

* consider the following: does a man who’s spent centuries pining after the same woman come off as anything other than a romantic? no, lovely reader, not in the slightest.

* he’s got the softest heart, i just know it. while he’s kind, he has his reserved exterior, but i think once you get past that as a relationship develops, he’s so tender and thoughtful.

* his gift to nesta was so personal and thoughtful despite their superficial relationship, and he expected nothing in return. imagine what he could come up with for someone he knew on a more personal and intimate level!!

* his gifts may not be as over-the-top extravagant as Rhys would prefer, but they’re so well-planned and personal because he actually listens to you! and he watches you! and he takes the time to actually think about what would be useful and meaningful for you (Mor could NEVER, luv u tho baby)

* while he’s not overtly sexual, Azriel is a FLIRT! a shameless flirt! he doesn’t need to resort to poetry because when you exasperatedly tell him “stop trying to distract me, I’m busy!” he just arches a thick brow, looks you up and down and says “make me.”

* BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

* And your cheeks heat a bit because he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what you’d taste like and he’s starving for it and then he just laughs and you realize you’re a fly that got stuck in those honey-trap eyes again

* So you huff and roll your eyes, turning to leave the room but a hand on your wrist tugs your momentum backwards and suddenly there’s another hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking along your jawline.

* A deep hum rumbles from the back of his throat, his gaze dragging from your mouth up to your eyes, “Do that again, I like watching your eyes roll back for me.”

* ladies/theydies i am PROFUSELY sweating !!!!!!!!!

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar

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mittensmorgul · 1 year

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Hi everyone! I just need like two minutes of your time.

Have you enjoyed all the scripts that the @spnscripthunt has posted over the last few years? Have you screenshotted them and written meta and made gif sets or just cried over your favorite scenes again? Have you supported the group in any way?

Would you like to OWN one of those scripts, autographed by the stars of Supernatural?

Maybe you miss participating in GISH, doing some wacky fun good in the world and the style of fundraising we learned there-- that many people making small contributions can come together to change lives.

Well, we are down to our last little stack of scripts now, with no new scripts coming on the horizon. This project has been thrilling, and we're trying to send it all off with a bang. We're giving away the final portion of the collection, all signed by the cast and crew, and hopefully doing a little good in a very big way.

We picked RIPMedicalDebt as our final charity, because of the exponential power of increasing how far our donations will go. $10 donated pays of $1,000 of medical debt, free and clear with no tax burden to the recipients! With a small donation, you could literally change someone's life.

We get that folks outside the US might not understand how completely messed up the US healthcare system is, so for some perspective, 65% of people who file for bankruptcy in this country do so directly because of crushing medical debt. We know personally how horrifying the medical insurance system is in this country. One illness, one accident, can be financially devastating. But we can save a few people from having it completely destroy their lives.

We got the idea from John Oliver. This entire episode is eye-opening about debt in the US in general, but the part we're specifically interested it begins around 17 minutes in.

youtube

We're already a quarter of the way to our goal! Thank you to everyone who's already donated! What we need now is to spread the word!

If you've spent any time at all enjoying the work we've done, the scripts we've collected and shared with fandom, we're hoping you'll consider sharing our posts widely with anyone who might be interested. Our contact network has been demolished as twitter collapses (and historically the vast majority of our contributors have come from twitter), and we're practically begging just for a signal boost.

All the details on how to donate, and then enter the raffle can be found right here:

You can also see all the prizes we'll be making available, too! And if for some reason you're not interested in a prize and just would like to support the campaign, that's fine too, of course!

(but the prizes are super cool... at least we think so...)

You only have until November 5, 2023 to enter the raffle, and our final group of prizes will unlock when we hit $5000 donated (which could pay off half a million dollars in medical debt!)

Please help us spread the word, and good luck!

#supernatural #spn script hunt #signal boost #Youtube

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yzy-dragon · 1 year

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I absolutely ADORED S2E9 "Three Stories" of Link Click and was a bit surprised to see the discontent here on Tumblr, and I totally understand the reasons why people didn't like it, especially in the context of the pacing of the rest of S2 (which I also have some opinions on but I won't talk about that here), but I also felt the need to just get my heart out why I love it so much. A bit of background, I'm Chinese American but have lived in and visited China numerous times.

Music and theater. As a western classical musician and an amateur Chinese opera singer enthusiast (I saw someone else post about the possible inspo this episode got from Chinese opera), I VIBED with the artistic direction of this episode SO much. The three-part structure was almost like a sonata/symphony (and remember that one scene where Qian Jin was air-conducting in a previous episode!!) or scene changes in a Chinese opera. Nothing needs to be said about the animation style that hasn't been said already, but I like how scenes from the three individual "stories" were interwoven and reused like leitmotifs. Especially that crazy, tortured laughter. Idk if any of the parallels were intentional on the part of the director, but it's what I got from it due to my personal experiences. I know that's a highly subjective takeaway though, which brings me to my next point....

Qian Jin's "tragic" backstory. I know a lot of people were upset that the extent of Qian Jin's tragic backstory was "oh his wife cheated on him", but I think the "basicness" of his struggles was the whole point (by the way, this segment displayed various attitudes towards work, family, marriage, individual pride, and life in mainland China so subtly but so well!). I also don't think sympathy was the main thing we were supposed to feel for him, although of course there is some. The whole "tragicomedy" aspect of Qian Jin's story is that it's not some horrible, terrible, rare thing that happened to him, but a common problem faced by so many hardworking but busy married men trying to provide for their families: infidelity. But Qian Jin sees himself as the main character of an elaborate play that rivals the great dramatic classics (which, funnily enough, often depicted very DRAMATIZED versions of a rather basic series of events). And his viewpoint is validated when....

Qian Jin meets the twins. That segment is still largely from Qian Jin's perspective, because we still don't really know how LTC and LTX even feel about him. But for Qian Jin, it's a stroke of fate and fortune that could only possibly happen in theater. He's very far removed from reality at this point. Reality is that a cop whose job it is to investigate violent crime comes across two kids who are the victims of a violent crime. Again, nothing particularly special or even coincidential. It's comical like that.

The fairy tale section. Unlike the first two, I think this segment is from Xixi’s perspective, which not only justifies the cartoony artstyle but also makes it heartbreaking, due to her childlike innocence. Like Qian Jin, she also perceives her reality as something it’s not, but unlike him, she doesn’t have delusions of grandeur of being a tragic protagonist. It’s just a little fox trying to survive in a forest full of predators and hunters.

All that tortured laughter. I’ve actually noticed in a lot of Chinese media that they like to use laughter as a way of signifying a person’s complete mental breakdown due to the tragedies they’ve suffered. It’s a very internal thing that has people on the outside going, “WTF?” In this episode we have a lot of characters crazily laughing together at the same time and it seems like they’re relating to each other, but in reality they’re all trapped in their own nightmarish hells and motivated by selfish purposes.

Back to the topic of Qian Jin, even though he (innaccurately) may see himself as the hero of his own story, it's not enough for him. He wants to use Cheng Xiaoshi to change the past. He wants to become the director of the play.

I know a lot of people were disappointed this episode didn't advance the plot, especially in regard to Cheng Xioashi and Lu Guang's storylines, but I was actually prepared for a backstory episode and couldn't have been more satisfied. Again, I have other opinions on the rest of S2 but at least standalone, I think this episode was nearly perfect. And I really wasn't expecting this, but it's really elevated Qian Jin to one of my top characters.

#link click #shiguang daili ren #long post #link click season 2 #qian jin #li tianchen #li tianxi #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #most artistic episode #I stan!

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plantoyoon · 3 months

Text

Can I have a taste?

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Synopsis: Unexpected romance develops between co-workers, going on dates, drinking some coffee and alcohol.

Genre: co-workers, slow development, fluff, smut

Warnings: 18+, social anxiety, one shot

Wordcount: 9.9k

second warning: might not make perfect sense, not really proofread, I've just started writing recently... soooo thank you for reading, and if you have suggestions, I am here.

You know that moment when life seems to make so much sense, like everything is perfectly aligned, but actually if you look further and deeper you wonder how the pieces came together?

Well, working on international projects was something indeed interesting. From your coworkers perspective, the best part was meeting new people and making new friends. You being introverted, that seem like the worst part of it. Most of the people you met were nice or at least interesting, and finding differences and similarities between cultures was also entertaining.

It wasn't the best always working at your company, but it had it's perks. Like in this moment, being at a full table with laughing people, good food and great atmosphere after the end of a successful project. Everyone was making cute promises of new meetings and new ideas to put into practice. The overall effervescence of some wine and excitement was intoxicating.

You were sitting next to the only other girl from the big team and one of your coworker, being guarded and trying to interact as least as possible. It wasn't that you didn't like them, but it was a giving you a lot of anxiety being in a group, trying to throw in some ideas in the discussion. Being around some many passionate people about their field was a bit overwhelming. You were quite good at what you were doing, and you enjoyed it but it seemed like never enough to get on into this talks. Following all the ideas of all the people at the table was getting exhausting.

At the right moment you get a message from your boss asking you for some documents as urgent as possible. You're getting so caught up into finding what he asks that you don't even hear that someone asked you a question. But you heard silence, some laughter and raised your head from the phone to look around. Of course half of the people are looking at you, your coworker Hoseok comes at your rescue, making a small joke about the fault in being a workaholic and repeating the question for you.

"How it is to work in a project just with men?" You're looking to your left for the other girl and she is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Sara?" you ask.

"I think she went for a smoke" another guy at the table answers.

"Hmm. Fine, I guess. We delivered what we had to deliver, so great." you answer and want to go back to your business. The idea for a distraction for them appears "You could ask my coworkers how was for them, because they mostly work in teams mostly formed by women, being more old in the company, I'm sure they have better insights on that. Guys?! you inquire and as soon as the conversation gets lively again you get to your phone, sipping on the water with lemon you had on the table.

As it gets noisier you get up to find a place a bit less agitated for you to focus. You know this place quite well so you identify quickly your spot, next to a staircase with a comfy chair and take a sit. But it doesn't take long until you get interrupted again. This time by one of the members from another country.

"Hei! What you doing down there?"

"I just need to solve some things urgently and I can't find this thing." you answer as politely as possible, because this was Yoongi. He was one of the first people you worked with outside your company. He was really nice, always helpful and seemed like a good person. And you wanted to be nice to him.

"How are you?" you ask seeing him still there, not quite ready to leave.

"Good. I really like this city, and the food is great."

"Yeah, it has his qualities." you didn't like your city, but you tried your best not to show that.

As you started getting more pings from your boss, you feel the need to hurry and ask Yoongi if he needs anything.

"I was looking for the toilet actually."

"Aah. I see. Well, it's right ahead, then you do a left next to the bar and then right and then you'll see the doors." you answer looking at Yoongi, seeing him now better, red in the cheeks, glassy eyes and leaning against the wall. He was a bit too drunk, and you chuckle to yourself at this tall, dizzy guy, looking for the bathroom.

You get up and start walking towards the restrooms. "Come after me." you say with your eyes still glued to your phone. He follows and enters the room after saying a shy thank you. With your eyes still looking for the files, you walk slowly towards your comfy hidden chair. But after a few minutes, Yoongi's back and seems a bit more fresh, with some droplets hanging at the ends of his hair, probably splashed some water on his face.

"Thank you, you're really good at giving direction. You could be a great guide." says he and then slowly goes back to the other people.

You wonder what is it with these people and their weird statements, but get over this thought quickly as you found the files you were looking for. You send them and dread the moment because now you have to get back to the table with the others.

As you get closer, you notice Yoongi took the seat next to your now empty one and you think to yourself that this should definitely get into some conversation, you have no escape at this point. Somehow, you don't despise the thought. You appreciated him, even though you have never seen each other until this week. You always talked through the phone, e-mails or online calls. Now you could also appreciate how handsome he looked, but you needed to stay as professional as you could and as you should.

You take your sit, trying to get into some small talk with the girl next to you, starting with complimenting her hair. You don't really know Sara, and try to ask some question to keep the conversation going. How did she start working with her team, what did she study, how the week felt like for her. The conversation runs smooth and you praise yourself for that.

After some time you feel a poke on your shoulder, and turn around not realising until now that you've almost turned with your back towards the people on your right. And you see Yoongi asking for the bottle of sparkling wine next to you.

"You're sure you want this? Maybe this?" pushing some water towards him.

He takes the water, pours some in his glass and some in your glass. Then asking again for the wine. You comply giving him the wine, and he firstly pours in your wine glass that still had some on the bottom, then going for his glass, followed by Hoseok glass. He asks the girl next to you if she wants some and pours the rest of the bottle into her glass.

At this point you expect some kind of toast, it seems like he has something on his mind to say. He raises his glass, demanding the others to follow in his movement and says: "This city is amazing, I like it so much and I am impressed by all the good work you people have put in." then he looks at you briefly "I want to see more of it. Towards more interesting projects and new friends. Cheers!" finishing the short toast with the clinks of the glasses.

You don't know why, but you felt some goosebumps when Yoongi looked at you. But this means nothing, he will go back to his country, his life and you should get your mind out of the scenarios that start forming in your head.

As time passes, you start getting more immersed in the conversation you had with the people at the table, especially with Yoongi, realising you have so many interests in common. You feel more comfortable now and the wine definitely made it a bit easier to get through the night. Hoseok turns his head towards you asking if you're going to stay any longer, because he wants to get home. You shake your head, looking at the time and seeing it was past 11 pm. You turn your head to Yoongi with inquiring eyes. He looks at you a bit lost, but answers after sighing, that he is ready to leave.

The three of you got up, said your see you tomorrows and goodbyes, and headed towards the exit. You feel the dizziness from the alcohol getting stronger, but the cold autumn air makes it a bit easier.

"I think I'll walk for a bit before calling for a taxi."

Hoseok already called his taxi and tries to convince you to call quickly for one because it's late, you have work tomorrow and so on. He is a good friend, but sometimes he is too much of a control freak. So you say "I'll just walk Yoongi to his hotel and then get it from there." knowing it will be a ten minute walk, enough for you the feel better. Hoseok seems pleased with your solution, and Yoongi is looking stoic without saying anything.

"Only if that's alright with you, Yoongi!"

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Of course it is!" says him as fast as possible.

Both of you walk in silence. You enjoy the cold breeze of the night and the rustling of leaves from the nearby trees and it feels quite peaceful. You hear a chuckle and look up towards Yoongi.

"What's funny?"

"How are you walking so fast? I was told I walk fast, but I feel I am putting some effort to keep up with you." Yoongi answers with another chuckle at the end.

"Ah, sorry! I think it's the wine for my speed and probably for you being a little more slow than the usual."

"Haha, maybe." followed by a long hmmm from him. You wonder what that sound was supposed to mean. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That hmmmm?!"

"Aaaah. I think I make this sound involuntarily when I'm thinking."

"Hmmm, I see. Hmmmmmm." You slightly mock the sound he made.

"Want to know what I am thinking about?"

You feel a trap, but you answer with "sure" anyways.

"I'm thinking…" he takes a moment before continuing "we definitely need to drink more water."

You agree, and as you see the hotel getting closer you get your phone and type in your address, ready to call for an uber. As you reach the hotel, you panic a little bit as no uber accepts your order. Yoongi stops next to you and asks if everything is alright.

"Yeah, but I think it takes a bit longer to get an uber at this hour."

"Hmm. I'll wait with you then."

"Don't worry, Yoongi. We have a long day tomorrow, I'll be fine. I'm sure someone will accept eventually."

"Don't say nonsense, I can't leave you by yourself. I would actually suggest to get into to lobby, drink something until your ride arrives."

You don't argue with that and feel a bit softer on the inside hearing that from him. You wonder why did you expect him to be less friendly. So you get inside, ask for some water at the still open bar and sit with Yoongi, talking about some of the countries he visited, and checking from time to time your phone.

15 minutes later a driver finally accepts your order, he is 3 minutes away. You let Yoongi know, and stand up, grabbing your bag. He follows you towards the exit and as you sit next to each other, he puts a hand on your shoulder, leaving it there for a bit too long, but you think about all the alcohol that was in his organism and try to not pay it attention. But the next thing surprises you, as the car stops in front of you, Yoongi closes the distance between you two with a small kiss on your cheek. "See you tomorrow! Yeah?"

"Mhm. See you tomorrow!" and you rush to the car. Was that something? It couldn't be. Your heart beats fast as you make comfortable in your sit. Maybe that's how he is with other people, friendly, french people always kiss each other on both cheeks when meeting. You try your best for the next 20 minutes to bring some sense to yourself and stop building expectations. As you get into your apartment, you check your phone one more time, and you have 3 new messages. One from Hoseok, one from your sister and one from Yoongi. All of them asking the same thing: "Have you arrived home?" you quickly send a Yes to all of them, and place your phone down trying to stop thinking about Yoongi.

"Shower and water, now." you say to yourself focusing on the moment.

The next morning brings a new sense of relief as it would have been the last day of work activities. Most important it will be just half of day, the rest being for the other people to visit your city on their own before leaving.

You get ready, read some e-mails on your way towards your first stop of the day, the coffee shop. This day required your favourite beverage, Iced Americano, before meeting with the others. After sipping the cold drink, you feel more ready to tackle this day, more prepared to block any Yoongi related thoughts.

At the office, everyone seemed to have the same need for coffee as you, as you found almost all of them around the coffee machine. Good thinking in getting your drink from another place. You greet everyone and try to wiggle your way to your place in the meeting room through the crowd. Not even placing your stuff on the table, you hear Hoseok asking you:

"It's october, I can't believe you bought an Iced Americano again. How could you drink that even now?"

"Hoseok, I already told you. This Iced Americano is the only coffee that I enjoy, so leave me alone and drink your bitter double espresso." You say in a jokingly manner, not realising Yoongi was behind you.

"Where did you get that?" he asks.

Startled, you give your answer, telling him about the coffee shop 10 minutes away from there. He looks at his watch and groans as you were supposed to start in just a few minutes the meeting. Yoongi takes the sit next to you and turns to face you: "Could you give me just one sip, I really don't like this coffee." whispers he pointing to the small cup in front of him.

You take your place and confused at his request you push your cold cup towards him. As he takes it from your hand, his fingers brush slightly over yours which brings some goosebumps up your arms. As fast as possible you start pulling out your stuff from your bag, looking down on your notebooks, sure that your cheeks were more rosy than the usual.

Yoongi groans a little after tasting the coffee "This is so good! You need to show me this place, Y/N?"

"I know, they have the best coffee. I'll give you the address later if you want to get one in our break."

He answers just with a mumble that you don't understand, getting another sip before giving your drink back.

For the next two hours of the workshop, Yoongi keeps on brushing in unintentional ways his arm against yours. You try to move yourself to give him more space to move when he explains his ideas, but somehow, each time he requires more space. By the end of the meeting you realise that you closed the distance between your chair and the empty one on your left. You sigh and think that these touchy people will drive you nuts one day. You don't enjoy being touched, you could even say you despised it. Not really, you like hugs from your favourite people and even cuddling. But with people close to you, not everyone. And this thing with Yoongi, it just fuels something that shouldn't be fueled.

The coffee break starts, you grab what is left of your iced drink and go to grab a mini croissant looking at the other people talking, forming small groups. You see Hoseok, Yoongi and other two people talking, and notice how Yoongi kind of retreats each time one of the other guys tries to touch him on his arm. You chuckle to yourself and wonder if he realises that he did the same to you. Your thoughts are interrupted by Hoseok who makes a gesture to join them. As you reach them he grabs your hand, telling the others how you don't like being touched by people, only if you know them for some time.

Once again you wonder what is with all these strange conversations these people have. You care a lot about Hoseok, but sometimes you want to punch him because making people aware of your quirks it's not on his employee responsibilities. But you knew him for such a long time, him actually being the one who recommended you for an interview at your actual company, so… you had enough time to get used to him.

"I am the same." answers Yoongi and it surprises you and start thinking if you should deconspire him or not. You decide not, but comment "Well, some people are more used to this and others are not. I think it's related a bit if you are in a relationship or not. If you've been in a relationship for a long time, it's probably more comfortable to be so touchy." You look at Hoseok, him being the first example for your statement. He nods and continues the talk, giving it a new twist. You've been always impressed with his way of making the conversation go into the whatever direction he wanted.

In your mind though, the thing Yoongi said about not liking being touched took a sit. The internal debate starting. He was so touchy, but he doesn't like being touched. Probably just lied, you think to yourself.

The rest of the programme passes smoothly, and at the end of it Hoseok asks how long everyone is going to be in the city. Most of them answer that they'll be leaving in a few hours or tonight.

"What about you, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks seeing he was the only one not answering.

"Actually, I'll be staying for a few more days to visit. If you have recommendation or want to plan anything, let me know."

"Oh, cool. For sure we'll plan something, I promised to show you to that Korean bbq place."

You follow the exchange in silence, until you hear your name called by Hoseok once again. "Y/N, let's organise with our team to see who would want to get together these days."

Nodding, you sigh at another event you need to be in charge of. It might be something informal, but you're so tired of so much socialisation. You just want a cozy night, some music and silence.

Maybe Yoongi felt your resentment that he announces that it could be the smaller team, no need in putting any effort into it. You look at him, smiling, grateful for his suggestion.

After all the other details have been discussed and all being done, almost all the guests left. You gather your notebook and laptop, getting ready to leave to your desk. By the door there is a small group of people still talking, as you pass by them you feel your elbow softly grabbed by someone, expecting to be Hoseok, you put your bored face: "What is it?"

"Hmmm."

Before you get to turn to look at him, you realise by the sound that is Yoongi, but the feeling stays the same.

"I was wondering if you could show me that coffee shop, maybe eat something there if they have any food?" asks him. You were hungry and the rumble in your stomach definitely approves his idea at the thought of those tasty sandwiches.

Your other coworkers get behind him: "What a great idea, Yoongi! We need to get some food, we're so hungry."

You follow the group who comes with new ideas for where to get lunch, finally deciding on another place.

"Hmmmm. Still, I think I want to get to that coffee shop. What about you Y/N?" "Yeah. I was kind of set on a sandwich from there and another coffee is more than welcome." you answer.

"Alright, then we'll meet back at the office. Yoongi, you're free to come also, if you don't have any other plans yet." says one in the group.

"Thanks, I'll think about it."

Now, with just the two of you, the conversation flows smoothly, with Yoongi asking about what he should visit next, where should he eat and what other activities you recommend until you reach the coffee shop.

He orders first "Two iced americano and two sandwiches!"

"Hei, I can order on my own." you pout.

"Well, I drank at least half of your morning coffee, so at least let me get that for you."

You try to convince him that isn't necessary, but he does not listen. Eventually, you give up, getting your food and drink and placing them on the small table next to the window. Yoongi follows you, sitting next to you.

"Why don't you sit in front of me? It's more space…" you ask, at which he just shrugs not bothering to answer and taking a bite.

"You were right Y/N, this place has great sandwiches and the best iced americano I've drank in this city.

You wonder "Have you been here before, in our city, I mean?"  "Yeah, a few times."

"Then why ask for places to visit. There not that much to see here."

"Hmmm." again that hmm, which you need to recognise, you were getting quite addicted to it.

"I wanted to hear about the places you like, so… yeah." follows Yoongi looking into your eyes. Your heart skips a beat and your cheeks are definitely red. Not knowing what to answer, you mumble a yeah and sip from your coffee.

Almost done with your meal you ask: "So Yoongi, you're coming to the office after we finish here?"

"You want me to come?" you almost choke at his come at his question, wondering if you're insane or if he is indeed in a flirty mood. You feel the need to step back a bit and tell him that is his choice, not yours.

"Alright, but I'll see you this evening. We are meeting at that restaurant Hoseok was telling us about. Yeah?"

"I'll think about it, I still need to catch up with some work."

"Hmmm. Y/N…. " mumbles he disapproving.

"Alright, alright. Let's get going now and I'll think about it."

He pulls a large smile, and slightly nudges you with his shoulder. "Good."

The day passes fast, still wondering if you should meet with the other for dinner. Noticing your excitement to meet Yoongi, you wonder if that's a good thing or not. He is just a friendly person, and the attention he's giving you makes you overthink this situation. But by the end of the work day, Hoseok and the others just assume you're coming, taking you with them and it's too late to back off now.

Arriving at the restaurant, Yoongi was already waiting for all of you sited at a table of six. Why does he look even more handsome and at the same time cute in this dimmed light. You place yourself strategically on the diagonal side of him so you could focus more on your discussion started with your friends from the office. This dinner not being a project meeting, your favourite coworkers could join. You are feeling more comfortable in this environment, with people you knew for a long time, so you laugh, and you drink, bottling up the small crush that was unfolding in the afternoon. But from time to time you throw a glance at Yoongi, and all you could think is how adorable he looks laughing and enjoying himself.

Around 9 pm you decide it's time to wrap up and go home, this was wholesome and fun, but tomorrow is Friday, another work day. You announce the others and grab your bag to leave, taking a last look at Yoongi, knowing you might not see him in person for a while.

"I'm really glad you came after all, Y/N!" said Yoongi as he gets up to give you a hug.

"Me too, Yoongi! Enjoy your stay here and have a safe trip." he squeezes you once more before letting you leave.

Why do even his hugs feel great, you think to yourself while getting into the uber.

Your phone pings noticing you got a message, it's Hoseok. The text is stupid, just a line of question marks and you think he might had a drink or two too much and ignore him for now. But five pings later you check the chat again to see what does he want.

Hoseokeeee: ????????? It's something going on? You and Yoongi? What is going on? Y/N? ????????

You: ???????????? What are you even saying????

Hoseokeeee: The hug????

You: What about it? He was just saying goodbye?!

Hoseokeeee: Y/N????? I know him for more than 3 years. He never hugs anyone, he barely shakes hands with us

You: ????? whaaaat??? Maybe he just felt friendly tonight, will probably hug you too

Hoseokeeee: We left! NOOO HUUUG he did gave us a handshake, but yet I am really suspicious! (detective emoji)

You: Ok. Maybe if you didn't leave all at the same time, he would have hugged you

Hoseokeeee: I don't want him to hug me

You: Yeah, sure (heart emoji) But honestly, don't overthink it. Nothing it's going on

Now you are the one who overthinks it. Is something really going on?

Barely getting any sleep, the morning arrives and you're tired and groggy and in desperate need of coffee. A large Iced Americano for you today.

At the office you are glad everyone seems to be on occupied with their own business, not even Hoseok tries to open the last night discussion, not even at lunch. At least there's that, and you think to yourself that everything is fine and nothing is going on actually. But the universe has a funny way of blowing up your life conclusion, as a message from Yoongi appears on your screen.

Min Yoongi: Hi! Tonight there's a opening of this gallery, and has some paintings by O'Keeffe exposed. Would you like to go?

First you wonder how did he recall about O'Keeffe, you don't even remember mentioning this artists name ever. Second you panic and your mind runs at full speed. Thirdly you wonder if he invited other people and you glance at Hoseok's desks.

You breath in, get up and go to your friend, your always and forever adviser in this matters. You don't say anything, but show him the message. He looks confused at you, then checks his phone, refreshing the chat app.

He gets up and you take his place. "Hoseok, what is going on?!"

"You tell me Y/N?!"

"Does it seem I know. You two are friends, I am just the new confused girl. Did he ever told you anything? Please, think carefully."

"Well, it was this time… but no, I don't think it's related. Or that time…" he keeps mumbling things like that until it annoys you.

"Hoseok!!!!" It gets him out of the memory digging. "I don't even know what to answer."

"If you ask me, it's just a gallery visit. It's not anything to worry about, maybe he just thought you would be the only interested and that's why you're the only one that he asked."

"Okay, that makes me feel a little bit better." you answer going back to your desk. "I'll think about it then."

Hoseok leans back in his chair, studying you carefully. "You like him, don't you?"

You blink, caught off guard by his directness. "I… I don't know. I mean, he's nice and we get along, but…"

"But?" Hoseok presses gently.

"But he's from another country, and it's complicated," you finish, feeling a bit flustered.

Hoseok chuckles. "Complicated is your middle name, Y/N. Look, if you want my advice, just go. Enjoy the evening. If nothing else, you get to see some great art. And if something more happens, well, you can deal with it then."

You nod, feeling a bit more settled. "Okay, I'll go."

"You do that, Y/N." said Hoseok with a grin, but try to not pry into that. Hoseok was always a step ahead of you, having the overview of every situation. So if he thinks it's not a big deal, then probably isn't.

You: Hi! Sure, sounds nice. Meet you there at 8?

Min Yoongi: Awesome!

Your focus for the day was gone, your mind going at full speed about your outfit, hair and make up, how to get to the gallery and counting the minutes until the end of the work day. You felt excited, the only thing that kept you relatively grounded were Hoseok's words: "Don't overthink it." You opt for a black simple yet elegant outfit, something that strikes the right balance between professional and casual.

Arriving at the gallery, you spot Yoongi waiting near the entrance, looking effortlessly stylish. As you approach, he greets you with a warm smile.

"Hi, Y/N. You look great."

"Thanks, Yoongi. You too," you reply, feeling a slight blush rise to your cheeks.

The gallery is buzzing with people, all eager to see the new exhibit. Yoongi leads you through the crowd, guiding you to the section featuring Marino's paintings.

As you stand side by side, admiring the artwork, you find yourself relaxing and enjoying the moment. Yoongi's presence is comforting, and the conversation flows easily as you discuss the various pieces and their interpretations.

"Thank you for inviting me," you say after a while. "I really enjoyed this and the wine is good."

Yoongi turns to you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad you came. I knew you'd like it."

Baffled by his assured statement you ask: "How could you know?"

He doesn't answer, but comes closer to you, slowly placing his hand on your waist to turn you around to face a blue and green painting. You get a bit closer to read the name, with Yoongi's hand still on your waist.

"It's called Blue and green music, it reminded me of you."

You scrunch your nose, you like the painting, you like everything done by O'Keefe, but this is dark, complicated and being called that felt a bit weird. "How so?"

"Well, it shows passion, strength, vibrant vulnerability, all in harmony. I feel that's you." said Yoongi, looking ahead at the painting.

Feeling the warmth of Yoongi's hand on your waist, you take a deep breath, absorbing his words. The painting indeed captures a depth that resonates with you. "Passion and strength", you murmur, with your gaze fixated on the painting. "I never thought of myself that way."

Yoongi's eyes finally meet yours, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Well, you are. Y/N. More than you know."

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible above the hum of the gallery crowd. "That means a lot."

His smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's just the truth." He takes a step back, his hand slipping from your waist but leaving behind a trail of warmth. "Come on, there's more I want to show you."

As you walk side by side, the conversation flows naturally, each painting sparking new topics and reflections. His knowledge of art and every other subject that comes up, fascinates you. You even forgot about your thoughts about this not being a date, you really hope it is now.

Yoongi leads you to a quieter corner a small table is set up with some desserts and more wine. Grabs two glasses, giving one to you with a soft smile on his face. "Have you ever been on this building rooftop?"

"Yeah, a long time ago. Have you?" and he shakes his head. He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd and corridors until you reach a staircase that leads up to the roof.

The night air is cool and refreshing as you step out onto the rooftop. The city sprawls out before you, lights looking mesmerizing. You walk to the edge, letting this moment bring a sense of peace to you.

"It's beautiful." he says softly, his hand brushing against yours.

"It is, and the company makes it even better." you turn to look at him and notice a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart beat fast.

He places a hand on your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. You raise a bit on your heels, but you stumble as someone yells in the distance that you're not allowed on the rooftop. You laugh and place a hand on Yoongi's chest. "You heard him, we need to leave."

As you step back into the gallery, both of you laugh about the interruption. The energy from earlier dissipated. You and Yoongi share a comfortable silence as you make your way through the nearly empty space. "Looks like we're some of the last ones here."

"Hmmm. It's been so nice. Thank you for joining me." mentions Yoongi as both of you step out of the building.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time." You smile, feeling warmth engulfing you once again this night.

Yoongi hesitates for a moment "I don't want this night to end, but it's late and I don't want to ruin your sleep more as it's already 2 pm. But can I see you tomorrow too?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words and a big smile crosses your face. "I'd like that."

He waits with you until your ride home arrives. When he sees the car pulling in front of you, he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. He closes the door of the car behind you, waving as he watches it departing. You watch him until he's out of sight, your heart still racing.

The next morning you wake up with a sense of anticipation and excitement. It doesn't take long as a sense of reality crashes over you, realising what are you actually doing. He is someone you work with, he leaves in a few days. The best you could figure it out is seeing each other a few times a year. Everything feels kind of hopeless. As you go on with your morning, this feeling doesn't disappear whatever spin you try on the matter. You even try to think about what would Hoseok would say. Probably "Don't complicate it and don't overthink it." It was a bit too late for that.

Last night was so amazing, it felt so good, you felt so connected to him, so interesting and appreciated. But now, the practicalities loom large, casting a shadow over the happiness.

Your phones pings and the screen lights up. Min Yoongi: Good morning. Want to grab lunch together later?

You: Yeah

Min Yoongi: Awesome!

You: There's a nice place in the city center. I'm sending you the address.

Min Yoongi: Great! See you there.

You don't text back, still with some remnants of anxiety. You decide to let it happen, not think about the future and to enjoy as much as you can this moment the universe placed in front of you.

Another ping on the phone follows.

Min Yoongi: Can't wait to see you again. (star emoji)

Why is he so cute, you sigh and smile, sending back the same text.

You hide your doubts, and cover them with a cute outfit in light colours. "You can do this, Y/N, you can do it!" you say encouraging yourself before leaving for the restaurant.

Yoongi was already there, waiting inside. His smile brightens as he sees you, welcoming you with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey" you reply, feeling again that flutter in your chest, now more sure than ever that you are able to enjoy this.

The restaurant is charming, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. As you look over the menu together, Yoongi leans in and says: "You look amazing. Last night a black cat and now a white cat."

You laugh at his statement, you always thought he resembled a cat with his sharp eyes. "You look great too. And I think you're actually the cat here."

He chuckles at your response.

As you order your food, the conversation flows easily. You talk about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other's company. Yoongi shares stories from his travels, and you tell him about your latest project at work. The doubts you had earlier seem to fade away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.

After lunch you suggest, "How about we go for walk in the park, I think there is some immersive art installation in the nearby one." He agrees, seeming excited about the idea. The walk through the park is pleasant and as you reach the art installation you both start to fool around, feeling like children.

The first one you try is this huge piano that you can walk on. You jump first on it trying to play Twinkle Twinkle Little star, being the only song you know the key notes too. Yoongi follows you trying to help you with your song, but ends up crashing into you. You try to gain your balance, but he has other plans wrapping his arms around you before he falls.

"Yoongi, what are you doing?"

"What were you trying to play?"

"Twinkle Twinkle"

"That was definitely not it" he laughs brushing your hair of your face as you try to get up. You extend an arm to help him up too, he grabs it and doesn't let go, having you follow him in his steps trying to play the correct version of the song.

"Is this what were you trying to play, Y/N?" you nod, following his steps carefully.

"Now I know how to properly play this" you laugh as Yoongi pulls you into a side hug, leading you to check the other installations.

You find an installation that is called Dark Matter, and described as dark room, with meticulously composed soundtracks, fusing with gleaming shapes and colours. "This might take a while, but would you like to try it?" you ask Yoongi.

Both of you find seats in the dimly lit first room. It's pitch dark, and you can't see anyone else, but the rustling of clothes and whispers around you assure you that you're not alone. The anticipation builds as the music starts, and the play of lights begins to dance around the room. You're immediately drawn into the immersive experience, completely forgetting everything else around you.

Amidst the sensory overload of sound and light, you suddenly feel a gentle movement on your pinky finger. It's Yoongi's finger, lightly playing with yours in a tender gesture. He then wraps his finger around yours, intertwining them gently. Your heart starts beating fast at the small gesture and you stay like this until the end of the show.

Stepping outside the building you notice that the night was closing in, typical for mid autumn when the sun sets earlier. You take a look at Yoongi and hear his thinking sound "Hmmmm. I think I know how to solve our problem from yesterday."

"What problem?"

"The rooftop problem. There's a bar nearby on a rooftop, great atmosphere. Want to go there?"

"Sure, lead the way. You're quite the local. You know that?"

Yoongi laughs. "Not really, but I know some good places around." He gently takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, making you blush at his newfound assertiveness over the past few hours. As you walk through the busy streets, Yoongi's hand in yours feels warm and reassuring. You contemplate how in his presence, everything seems to slow down and becomes more manageable. You steal glances at him from time to time, admiring his calm demeanor contrasting with the urban chaos around. Finally, you arrive at the bar. The entrance is tucked away in a quieter corner, yet the rooftop promises a good view. Yoongi lets you first climb the stairs, following closely behind. As you reach the top, you take a sit at a table next to the edge, giving you the best view. Mesmerized by the view, you affirm it "The view is amazing."

"I thought you'd enjoy it" Yoongi replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he pulls out a chair for you. "What would you like to drink?"

"I think I might need something different than wine" you ponder. The waiter comes before you could decide so you let Yoongi order first, he gets some red wine.

"I see you have Hibiki, could I get some with a large ice cube?" this drink always made you feel a more confident in yourself and sweeps away a big part of your insecurities.

Yoongi looks at you with big eyes and a huge grin on his face, which makes you feel self-conscious about your drink choice. You recall how people often comment or poke fun at your preference, and now you feel the need fort that drink more than ever. You look at the city unraveling before your eyes to clear your head, letting some silence sit between you and Yoongi.

As the drinks arrive, you feel a surge of enthusiasm as you take your first sip. The fiery warmth of the liquied plays with the coolness of the ice, creating a unique sensation that you like. For you it's not so much about the taste as it is about that intriguing combination. Feeling satisfied with your drink and the courage it brought, you glance at Yoongi. He still gazes at you with those dark wide eyes, prompting you to say "Go ahead, you can judge me all you want, but I enjoy what I enjoy."

"I'm not judging you, I liked your choice." takes a sip of his wine, licking his lips. "Can I have a taste?"

"Sure" you push your glass towards him. He moves his chair closer to yours and settles down, placing his hand over yours, which is still wrapped around the cold glass. "Can I have a taste" he asks again, now a bit more clear, looking into your eyes and then down to your lips.

You feel flustered, goosebumps rising all over your body. Raising the glass to your lips, you try to mantain eye contact as you take another sip, letting the liquid slide down your throat. Everything seems to move in slow motion.

Setting your glass down, you feel Yoongi closing the distance between you. He hovers with his lips just above yours for a moment before pressing them gently against yours. The kiss is slow and tender, sending a wave of warmth through your body. His hand reaches your neck as he deepens the kiss. Your hand goes up to caress his face as you give access to his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. It gets more passionate by the second, with the other hand of Yoongi going to your hip, making you slip a moan into his mouth. Getting a low groan out of him. You slowly start to feel out of air and as much as you don't want to, you interrupt the kiss.

Refiling your lungs with air, you look at Yoongi who appears still focused on your lips. Bringing his hand up your neck, you let his thumb gently play with your bottom lip. "Tasty"

You chuckle at his assessment, giving him another taste. This time, the kiss is more eager, both of you, trying to get as much as you can out of each other.

"I've wanted to do that, since I first saw you on Monday, you know?!"

Completely shocked by his words, you pull back slightly. "Don't look at me like that." he continues "I've been flirting with you for months, but you've been so dismissive that I thought it was a lost cause. Until I saw you in person. After talking with Hoseok about you, giving me some insights, I knew I had to keep trying. I am convinced now it was a good decision…"

"Wait, wait. What do you mean months? What about Hoseok? What are you even saying now?" you stop him from his rambling to bring you some clarity.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over your hand gently. "We've been working together online for a while, and I've always admired you from a distance. I tried to drop hints, little comments here and there, but you never seemed to notice."

"What about Hoseok?"

"He and I talked about it, and he encouraged me to be more direct. He mentioned that you tend to not notice when someone likes you. He thought we'd be a good match."

You blink in surprise, processing his words. "Hoseok said that?"

"Yeah," Yoongi nods. "He said you were amazing and worth the effort. So, when this trip came up, I saw it as my chance."

In your mind all the mixed messages that Hoseok gave you regarding Yoongi started to make sense. He wanted to push you to try this thing, but not be too direct because he knew you'd get scared and run from it.

A mix of emotions swirls within you "I had no idea."

Yoongi smiles, and his eyes do too. "Well, now you do." He cups your face with both his hands placing a loud kiss on your lips.

The evening goes on, filled with laughter and tender moments. You both share stories of Yoongi's past attempts at flirting. He recalls a particular video call where he complimented your hairstyle, only for you to brush it off.

"Not going to lie, I was so frustrated," he admits, laughing. " I thought I was so obvious."

"Well, I guess I'm just oblivious," you reply. "I'm glad you didn't give up."

As the night goes on, the atmosphere becomes more intimate. You find yourselves sitting closer, holding hands, and stealing kisses between sips of your drinks. Yoongi leans in to whisper something in your ear, and his breath sends shivers down your spine.

"Do you remember the first project we worked on together?" he asks.

"Yeah, you were so serious and focused." you reply.

"And you were so passionate and creative," he says, his voice soft. "I knew then that I wanted to get to know you better."

After finishing your drinks, Yoongi suggests taking a walk. The night is cool, and the streets are quiet now, creating a nice atmosphere. As you reach his hotel, he says between kisses, "I want to see where this can go."

You look up at him, your heart racing, "Agree."

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you one more time before calling an uber for you. This kiss is slow and sweet. As a driver accepts your ride, being a few minutes away, Yoongi places a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" you answer walking towards the spot where the car should arrive, with your eyes still on Yoongi. He starts walking towards the hotel entrance. In that moment something clicks inside you and press cancel on the ride, striding behind Yoongi.

"Wait", you call out, your voice trembling with nervousness.

He turns around, surprise and hope flickering in his eyes. "Y/N?"

You catch up to him, "I don't want to say goodnight just yet. Can I come up with you?"

Yoongi's smile broadens, and he takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "I'd like that very much."

Together, you enter the hotel and make your way to his room. The elevator ride is filled with charged silence, both of you stealing glances at each other. When you reach his floor, Yoongi leads you down the hallway to his room. Once inside, you explore his room, passing through straight to the window. His room was situated on the topmost floor of the hotel, you knew it had to be a good view from up there. And you were right, the view was breathtaking presenting the city skyline twinkling under the night sky.

You notice the strategically placed couch in front of the large window, casting a gentle glow from the city lights. "Almost everywhere you took me this week, had a great view of this city that you might not know, I don't quite like. Was this planned?" you ask playfully, turning to Yoongi.

"No plan. I just enjoy a good view and I had a hunch you would do too." he replies casually, moving towards a small bar and pouring some sparkling wine "Feeling festive?"

You laugh, feeling at ease as you take a seat on the couch and wait for Yoongi to join you. The room is dimly lit as he settles next to you, handing you the glass. "From this spot you can see the Orion constellation, it's a bit cloudy, but you can identify the stars and connect them."

You smile, watching Yoongi's eyes fixated on the nightsky, makes you feel warm inside. Leaning in, you place a small kiss on the corner of his lips, catching him by surprise. He gaze shifts from the stars to you. Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you place your glasses on the small table in front of you. He gently caresses your chin, raising it just slightly towards his. You feel you could get lost into his dark eyes. Yoongi's lips brush against yours in a gentle, exploratory kiss, sending small electric waves in your body.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, you deepen the kiss. Drunk on his touches, you get more courageous, exploring with your hands as much as you could. And he does the same, caressing your waist, while he peppers small kisses on your jaw, going down your neck. You let out a small moan when he bites into your collarbone. Seems like he enjoyed the sound you made, biting the spot again harder this time.  "Ah, Yoongi." The sound snaps something in Yoongi, making him grab and move you to sit on top of him. "I love when you moan my name like that." not leaving time for you to answer kissing your lips eagerly. His hands slowly pull your shirt to sneak beneath it, to touch your skin. A shiver runs down your back feeling his big hand holding you so close to him. His hand guides you to sit more comfortably in his lap and too properly feel how hard he is through your clothes. Another moan gets out of you at the sensation. Hearing him chuckle, you pull at his hair, putting some distance between you two. Allowing yourself for a moment to gain control of the situation, to kiss his jaw and lick at his neck, but it doesn't take long. His fingers start unbuttoning your shirt, getting quickly rid of it. His lips tracing lines along your chest and above your lacy bra.

Feeling on clouds with all the sensations Yoongi brings, you roll your hips onto his to get more out of him. You adore how his voice vibrates on your skin at his small moans and groans.

With a swift movement, he turns both of you around so he could be on top of you. You wonder how can he be so gentle and strong at the same time in his touches.

Before he can go back at licking and sucking on your skin, you try to pull his shirt over. He takes it off fast, allowing you to finally see him. His skins looks so pretty in the dimmed lights, and you can't stop to run your fingers on it, mesmerized by the view.

His attention goes back to your lips, kissing you with such fervor, leaving you breathless. His hand travels down, starting to unbutton your pants. Gaining access, his fingers starts rubbing over your clothed pussy. "You're so wet." he whispers against your lips. "I want to taste you, will you allow me?"

Nodding in approval, too afraid your voice will crack, you wonder how this soft person could be so assertive in this moment. But you can't ponder too much as his lips starts licking at your chest, then going lower. He pulls your pants and panties down in one movement, looking lustfully in your eyes. Without any hesitation he bites onto your thigh, licking and kissing the spot immediately after. Choosing several points to do the same thing, transforming you into jelly under his touches. Finally reaching your pussy, it slowly licks at first, but as your moans get more frequent and louder, he becomes more fast in his treatment.

Once again you find yourself moved by him, bringing your ass the edge of the couch, your back against the backrest. He kneels before you, rubbing your entrance with his fingers then bringing them to your lips to suck on them. " I want the have the best view when I look up from this beautiful pussy."

The sudden confession brings heat to your cheeks, bringing your hands to cover them. Yoongi groans in annoyance, as he pushes his first finger inside you, making you throw your head back at the sensation, forgetting everything about shame.

As he pushes another finger, you moan his name "Yoongi, fuck", and in your desperate need to ground yourself you run your fingers through his dark locks, holding onto them. Yoongi seems pleased, moaning into your cont, sending the vibrations through your whole core.

He spends the following minutes sucking your clit, alternating with biting it softly and with his fingers wrecking your hole. Your hips lift higher and higher to give him the best access, your moans getting louder until you finally come in his mouth, closing your thighs around his head. But it seems Yoongi doesn't mind it as he says "You're such a good girl, coming all over my face."

You're such a mess and you can't believe how those words turned you on so bad. Slowly Yoongi gets up, sitting next to you placing soft kisses on your face as you gather your breath. "You feeling good?"

"Fuck, yeah." you answer in between loud breaths.

He laughs at your response, pulling you into a deep kiss. "I'm feeling good too."

After finally recovering your breath, you slowly get up, wanting to return the favor, going for his pants, unzipping them. But Yoongi allows you just to undress him, before grabbing you into his arms and lifting you up. He places you gently over the soft covers of the bed, then disappears for a second, coming back with a condom in his hand.

"But I want to taste you, Yoongi" you pout, getting another laugh from him. "Not now, you don't want to upset me. Don't you?"

His demeanor in this situation makes you feel so hot on the inside, that you can't contradict anything he says. "Of course not."

"Then be a good girl and spread it for me"

You follow his instruction ready to feel his length inside you.

He pulls you closer to him, pressing his fingers hard into the skin of your ass, making your back arch at the sensation. Bringing your chest back into his attention he places soft kisses on them, before getting one of your buds into his mouth, sucking it.

You feel him pressing the tip inside, not realising until now how big he was. You wince a bit at the discomfort. He pushes in slowly. "Fuck, you're so tight"

"You're so big" you barely breath out the words.

He places soft kisses on your neck until you feel him completely inside you. Letting you get accustomed for a minute. You feel yourself pulsating around him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, before starting to move. It feels so good, despite the slight discomfort. But the pain dissipates, replaced by the pleasure. As he starts moving a little faster, you find his lips to signal you're feeling good.

That is all he needs before he thrusts deep, shaking you to your core. Your loud moan is followed by another deep thrust into you, and another, and another, and another until it becomes a rhythm of fucking you relentlessly. This feels so much better than everything you have experienced until now. Your mind goes blank, being able to focus just on his movement and his hands on your waist. A stupid smile crosses your face at the overwhelming sensation.

Once again you're being moved by him, turning both of you around so you're sitting on him. You thought he was deep inside you until now, but you were so wrong. The need to get accustomed to his size appears again, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him from moving. "You're so fucking big, give me a second".

He plays with your ass, pressing his fingers into your skin and running them along your thighs, until you feel ready to move. You go up and down his cock, feeling your boobs bounce at the movement. Yoongi is looking completely hypnotized. "Touch yourself for me, baby."

Following his instruction, your left hand travels down from your boob to your clit, rubbing it slowly. And your right hand goes to his mouth, asking for some saliva from him. He sucks on your fingers, wrapping his tongue around them.

You pull them out just to touch your tits with them, pinching hard one of the nipples. Yoongi's hands guide your hips in your movements, pushing his cock deep inside you, establishing an insane rhythm.

Sounds from both of you fill the air, moans, groans and whispered obscenities.

"Yoongi, I'm so close."

"Yeah? Then be a good girl and come for me."

Yoongi grips your hips even tighter, thrusting hard, feeling him whole. You fall onto him, unable to keep your balance anymore, giving him access to suck on your nipples. Already lost in all the pleasure waves, you shiver hard when his hand finds your clit and plays with it.

"You're doing so good, baby" whispers into your ear and that was all you needed to come.

"Yeah" you cry out at how good all he says to you makes you feel. You start pulsating hard on his cock, feeling him coming inside with loud moans into your ear.

You take a moment to catch your breath before sliding next to him. He takes you into his arms, placing sweet kisses to your cheeks. You laugh softly, "It felt good"

He doesn't answer but catches your lips into a kiss so deep, and possessive, hinting at how good it felt for him also.

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