#every time I talk about this I am not sure if I hallucinated it

[bluishfrog]

favorite dnf twitchcon moment?

Dnf breaking math.

When they weighted the popcorn buckets after that weird microwave fight and then dnf advanced to the finale of the cooking competition event DESPITE the numbers being very much not supporting that.

Everyone wanted dnf together so badly that they forgot how basic math worked.

[autistichalsin]

Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending

If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.

So let's break these down!

Lae'zel:

I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.

This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.

Karlach:

Fuck you.

Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.

Wyll:

I... I forgive you.

This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.

There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.

Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?

(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)

Selunite Shadowheart:

I... I thought we were going to save each other...

This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.

She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.

Gale:

You made me want to live...

From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.

It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.

Spawn Astarion:

I should have killed you when I had the chance...

The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.

And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?

All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.

Ascended Astarion:

No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...

In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.

But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?

He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.

Halsin:

Thaniel... goodbye...

Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.

So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.

And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.

Minthara:

No... we were meant to do this together...

Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.

[literaila]

kid megumi and gojo definitely took bubble baths together while megumi washes his hair and satoru's just yapping about how much he loves reader

“megumi,” gojo says, not even bothering to knock on the door.

it’s the boys fault, really, for leaving it open in the first place.

megumi stills, brows furrowing as his hands stop foaming the soap in his hair. “gojo?” he asks, a bit disbelieving.

he might be going crazy—it’s not uncommon for sorcerers. and megumi barely thought he would make it to fourteen and here he is, so. he should probably tell someone about the hallucinations but—

“you got it,” gojo answers, predictably, sitting on the toilet seat. “i need to talk to you.”

megumi peaks his head around the shower curtain slowly, blinking a few times to make sure the man is really there.

but he is, grinning at the tiny bit of megumi he can see, tapping his fingers on his knees obnoxiously.

megumi points a hand towards the door. “this is an invasion of privacy.”

“megumi,” gojo gives him a bland look. “i’ve seen you naked.”

“that’s creepy.”

gojo sighs, hanging his head. “we’ve known each other for so long now, and you still don’t trust me.”

“you still haven’t given me a reason to. can’t this wait? or not happen? i don’t want to talk to you.”

yes, megumi is still hanging halfway out of the shower. yes, his hair is dripping water on the floor. no, he does not care—it’s gojo’s house anyway. he can fix the ruined floorboards.

“it’s about your mother.”

at that megumi blinks. “what’d you do?“

“i didn’t do anything.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, i’m sure,” gojo scoffs, reaching out to pull his ear—which megumi expertly deflects (he almost slips and dies in the process). “am i crying on the floor right now?”

megumi considers it. then he recalls the last time you and gojo had a fight. he had to check gojo’s pulse every time he walked past the couch.

“good point. what is it?”

“as you know, her birthday is coming up—“

“are you serious?”

“megumi.” gojo’s eyes are dubious, his voice is disapproving. “your mothers birthday is very important.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “i know. i mean, are you seriously asking me about this right now? im in the shower. there’s shampoo in my hair.”

gojo nods very seriously. “it’s the only place she won’t hear.”

“she’s not even home.”

“she’s hidden cameras, megumi, i know it.”

“no she hasn’t.”

gojo pouts. “i want it to be a surprise. she always finds out about her gifts before i can give them to her.”

“that’s because you tell her.”

“the suspense is too much. i need you to buy her something for me and hide it so i don’t know what it is.”

he sounds absolutely serious, which might be the worst part of that request, actually.

and when has megumi ever done gojo a favor?

“gojo,” megumi gives him a little smirk, tilting his head. “i’m not doing that.”

gojo groans, falling onto the floor. “c’mon, megumi, we’re supposed to be friends.”

“you’re my teacher, if anything.”

“and your father,” he juts his chin, “favoritism is not cute.”

“good.”

megumi finally turns around. gojo was never going to leave, even if he’d attempted to tackle him out of the door.

and he’s used to this, anyway. there hasn’t been a day in seven years that he’s gotten some peace.

“okay,” gojo begins again, sounding like he’s won—which he hasn’t. “i was thinking some jewelry, but you know how picky she is. and besides, she’s too rough for something small. tsumiki is already getting her that chibi mug we saw in that corner store last weekend, and whatever you’re getting is off of the table too.”

“i’m not listening to this.”

“i could take her out to dinner, but that’s not a gift. and i do that anyway. maybe i should buy her a car—what kind do you think she’d like? something blue, like my eyes—“

megumi groans.

gojo pauses. “did you get soap in your eye?”

honestly, banging his head against the wall might be better than this. at least they have pain killers at the hospital.

megumi doesnt answer, no longer entertaining this, but gojo continues anyway.

“maybe we should re-do the bathroom, you know how she’s always saying that—“

god, when will it end?

[blairboo]

FORGIVE ME!

Noah Sebastian X Fem! Reader

Summary: Noah being an idiot ;)

Warnings: A lot of angst

Word Count: 2k

We had been fighting for weeks, every day there was a reason for a fight.

Noah was currently on tour with Bad Omens, and now we were in New York.

The show was at eight o'clock, and I was sitting in the green room waiting for the boys to finish getting ready.

They knew about the fights, Jolly came to comfort me when Noah was very hard with his words.

I consider myself a calm person, especially with Noah, but my patience was running out, every day he found a stupid reason to fight with me. I knew the pressure he was feeling because of the tour, and I respected that, but he was crossing the limits.

"earth to y/n" Noah took me out of my thoughts

"Sorry, what were you talking about?" I asked

"Just letting you know that I was going up to the stage" his gaze was anywhere but on me.

"Hm okay, good luck" smiles weakly

He just passed by me and went on stage, Nick came after, I could see the sad smile towards me. I just nodded my head.

——————-

It had been 20 minutes since they had climbed to the board, I directed myself in the direction that Matt, who was at the sound station.

"Hi there y/n" Matt smiled at me

"Hey Matt, do you mind if I stay here?" I spoke in your ear because of the loud music.

"No problem, sit there" he said back.

I always stayed next to the stage when they were on stage. Noah always made a point of making me stay there. He liked to know that I was there.

Not anymore, I think. It has been some shows since the last time he asked me to stay there. And I also didn't ask if he wanted to, he clearly didn't care anymore.

My thoughts ran as they introduced themselves.

Will he break up with me?

What did I do wrong?

Am I not good enough?

The music was loud, everyone singing, smiling and dancing.

And me?

I felt tears coming down.

———————

The show was over. The boys were saying goodbye and playing the setlist in airplane format.

I had returned to the green room, I felt fear but I needed to ask what was wrong with us.

I heard laughter, and I saw them going down to the green room.

I just looked and smiled towards them.

Noah hadn't looked at me yet.

I heard my name being called and saw Nicholas smiling at me talking about something that at the moment, my anxiety did not allow me to care about.

I could only think of the way Noah didn't bother to talk to me.

All right. I'll talk to him.

I excused Nicholas and went towards Noah, who was taking a bottle of water.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I felt my heart beating 3 times faster

Noah just nodded his head.

He didn't care.

We went towards a running that was outside the room.

All right, now I needed to talk.

"What's going on?" My voice came out faster than I wanted

"What do you mean? Nothing is going on" there was no concern in his voice

"Cut the bullshit Noah, you know what I'm talking about, God, you can't even look at me!" There was a certain anger in my voice.

"There's nothing wrong! I don't know where you got it from that there's something going on with us!" He had increased his tone of voice

"You can't tell me that there's nothing wrong when in recent weeks the only words we've exchanged are "good morning and good night"!"

"My God, you're hallucinating, there's nothing wrong and maybe if you stopped being so clingy , you would know why I'm not close to you, you annoy me!" Now he was screaming and I was sure the boys were listening.

Clingy. I felt a pang of pain in my heart. Noah never complained about it. Most of the time he asked to stay close.

I felt tears burning in my eyes.

"So why don't you break up with me?" My voice failed

"Maybe I really should!!" He screamed passing by me and returning to the green room.

Your phrase echoed in my head.

"Maybe I really should"

"Maybe I really should"

"Maybe I really should"

I leaned against the wall behind me and released the tears that begged to be released.

I stayed there for a few minutes, just with my eyes closed and letting my thoughts consume me.

I felt a pair of arms hugging me. A part of me expected it to be Noah and he would apologize to me and say that everything would be fine.

But another part of me didn't ignore the pain of his words.

I opened my eyes and saw Matt hugging me. For a moment I let myself be vulnerable there.

"He doesn't want me here anymore" I whispered

"It's not true, he's just being an idiot " Matt stroked my hair

"He doesn't want to. It's not from now that he's acting distant"

He didn't answer me, he just kept hugging me.

"I'm going home" I said after a few seconds

"Y/n...please" there was a tone of reprimand in his voice

"I won't disturb his career anymore Matt, he clearly doesn't want me here and I won't force anymore "

"Let me try, let's try to talk to him at least" he pleads

I denied it.

"No, my decision is made."

———————-

The next day, Noah and the boys had left for tourists to New York City.

I said I was tired and couldn't go. Lie.

My flight was scheduled for 11:30 am. Only Matt knew.

I had just packed my suitcase and all that was left was to pick up my cell phone that was charging.

My mind told me to leave a note for Noah. I ignored it.

——————-

I had just landed in Los Angeles. And again, only Matt knew.

A part of me was afraid of Noah's reaction when he realized that I had left.

Another part just told me that he wouldn't mind.

——————

Now it was 8:50 pm, so far no message from Noah.

I started to think he really didn't care.

I tried to distract myself by trying to do other things, but my heart still hurt to know that he didn't care.

I was finishing making my dinner and my cell phone started ringing.

I felt my heart drop.

I looked at the name on the receiver and mentally cursed.

It was Noah.

What would I say?

I took a deep breath and answered the phone.

"Hello?" I tried to keep my voice steady.

"Where are you?" I could hear a despair in his voice

I kept quiet.

"Matt said you went back home" he said after a few seconds

I cursed Matt mentally.

"I- I arrived a few hours ago" my voice weakened

After a moment, he spoke

"I want you to know that I didn't mean that. You're not sticky and I could never separate from you" my heart hurt.

"You wouldn't say that out of nowhere Noah, some part of your mind must think that." I Whispered

"Please don't! I was stressed, I took it out on you and please forgive me for that."

"It's not from now this behavior of yours Noah! It's been weeks since the last time you cared if I was at the show or not!" I exalted myself

He didn't answer.

And my head confirmed to me what I had said.

He doesn't care.

"We're done" I hung up.

And obviously tears fell.

——————

It had been 4 days since the last time I spoke to Noah, he had sent me many, many messages, not only from him.

Matt.

Nicholas

Nick

Jolly

Bryan

Davis

I hadn't answered any of them. My mind wasn't in the right space for that.

I was finishing making my coffee when the doorbell rang.

I took a deep breath.

It couldn't be Noah, he still had many shows before the tour ended.

I went towards the door and opened it.

Shit.

What the fuck was he doing here?

He still had shows to do.

And there was Noah, standing right in front of my door.

His eyes were red indicating that he had cried

Your deep dark circles indicating the lack of good sleep

Your messy hair indicating the lack of your self-care.

"Please give me 5 minutes to talk and if you don't change your mind, you never need to see me again" He said first.

I couldn't find a voice to answer and so I just nodded.

I gave him space to enter and soon after closing the door.

"Y/n, nothing I say here, you'll be able to show what a sorry I am, I know I acted like a terrible boyfriend in recent weeks and I was a big asshole with you" I just agreed in response

"I've always been very understanding with you Noah, I never fought when you were angry and discounted me" my voice finally came out.

He waved quickly.

"I know, I know, and that's why I'm feeling like crap, nothing I say could show how grateful I am for you and your patience with me, and I know I made a mistake, and I made bad mistakes with you, but I'm asking from the bottom of my heart that you don't break up with me" he pleaded

"I promise to change and promise to be a better boyfriend, I can't promise perfection but please don't break up with me."

His words were repeated in my mind

"You hurt me Noah, and my question remains, how do I know this won't happen again? That you won't just get tired of me and treat me like a complete stranger?"

"I have no form of guarantee other than my word, but please...." He had knelt in front of me.

Noah leaned his head against my belly, repeating the word "please" over and over again.

"Please get up Noah" I tried to pull your arms

"No, I would stay like this for hours and hours if it made me have you back" I closed my eyes.

"You have me. And my mind keeps telling me that I shouldn't forgive you so fast but I just can't. So please don't make me go through this pain again, don't make me question your love for me again." Noah tightened his arms around me.

"I promise, I promise." He looked at me.

"Now get up please, I need to look at you face to face" and he got up, still holding me by the waist.

Noah leaned his forehead against mine, our eyes completely aligned.

"I love you" he whispered

"I love you" I just whispered back.

But I still had a question.

"Don't you have a show in 50 minutes?" I asked curiously

"I canceled" he replied calmly

"What? What do you mean you canceled?" There were question marks in my head

"If I needed to, I would cancel the entire tour just to come after you" I felt tears burning in my eyes

"You canceled the show.... For me?"

He nodded his head

"I would do this as many times as necessary, to have you with me."

Maybe he would make a mistake again, again....

Maybe I would make a mistake….

After all, who cares? We're just two lovers trying to love each other properly.

——————-

lmk what you think :)

Blair👾

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi also asked for Sho, so here are my favorite of Sho's voicelines! He's a lil more chill--most of the excitement for him is because Leo's causing him trouble, so maybe there won't be as many since it's just him? (Spoiler: i still put nearly all of them, or it feels that way. . . .)

Also sorry this one took way longer haha i had to do some irl stuff and i was pretty tired too lol. . .may not get to the next ones for a few days since i have to wake up early tomorrow and i work double shifts all weekend. But i'll try and find time for it.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Hey,  good timing. You got a second?" お、センパイ。いいとこに来たわ。ちょっと付き合ってくんね？



You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"You got a message. Gonna check it or what?" おい、なんか通知来てっけど。見なくていいのか？　それ



Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Here you go, Bonnie. Barbecue sandwiches, your favorite." ほら、食えよボニー。お前の好きなＢＢＱサンドだぜ



"Huh? Was that your stomach? You hungry?" ……？　なんだよ。もしかしてあんた、腹減ってんの？



"Pit's on again? I'm done with that already. They're all normies—what's the point?" あ？　また地下で騒いでんのか？ 俺はもうやんねぇよ……パンピー相手にしても仕方ねぇだろ

the word he uses for 'normie' here means 'commoner' lmao

"Yeah I got it, you want to train. You go ahead, I'll catch up." はいはい、トレーニングっすよね。もうちょいしたら行くんで



"Did you just see a creep in a black mask over there? ...Nah, never mind. I'm hallucinating." ……今、あそこに黒マスクした胡散臭ぇやつ歩いてなかったか？ ……いや、なんでもねぇ。幻覚だわ

SO THIS LINE CONFUSED ME AT FIRST because it's always referred to as a blindfold by everyone else? HE'S TALKING ABOUT HYDE HYDE IS JUST STALKING HIM LMAO

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Too early... What's Leo doing today? Guess I'll text him." ねっみ……玲音のやつ、今日はどうすんだ？ 一応Ｄチャしとくか……

if it's too early for you it's too early for Leo. But also I'm sure he's got something exciting or interesting planned. I like that we're immediately shown he wants to spend time with Leo even when he's tired haha

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Freakin' sasquatch... Would it kill him to approve an R&R permit every once in a while?" ったく、あのデカブツ……外出許可くらい出せっつの

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Class? What's the point? It's all written in the textbooks—all you gotta do is memorize it." 授業？　あんなん出なくても全部教科書に書いてんだからよ。そのまま覚えりゃいいだけだろ？

Doesn't go to class because he's smart enough to memorize the contents of the textbook I guess! Plus he doesn't care as much about Real Missions so knowing how to do the hard stuff doesn't matter to him haha. . .plus first years probably don't learn as much that's not in the textbook too.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"All right, time to go for a spin. C'mon, Bonnie." うし、軽く流してくっか。行こうぜ、ボニー

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"(yawn) What time is it? Seriously? Damn, overslept." ふぁあ…… 今何時だ……？ マジかよ、寝すぎたわ

Neither he nor Leo sleep at night lmao

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Huh, haven't ridden a skateboard since middle school but I guess I still have the muscle memory. Watch this, I'm gonna do a trick." 中坊ぶりにスケボー乗ったけど、意外と体が覚えてんだな。 トリック決めてやるよ、見ててみ？

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Nice, got an order. More demand than I thought. Getting Leo to make this app was a good call." お、出前の予約が入ったわ……思ったより需要あってよ。 玲音に予約アプリ作らせたの正解だったな

Leo has a line that references this one!

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What's Mido texting me for? come tot hr epuit... Pfft. What the hell is this, some kinda secret code?" あ？　御堂センパイからＤチャ？『血か二個い』って…… ぷっ……なんだこれ、暗号かよ

Ksvdhdisn Alan is adorable. . .i love technologically incompetent characters. Poor bby can't even text. . . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Shit, my whole body's killing me... Sparring five sets of fifteen rounds, are you kidding me? Mido's insane..." クソ、筋肉痛がやべぇ…… 御堂センパイ、スパー１５ラウンド５セットとか正気じゃねぇよ……

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"What am I gonna do tomorrow... Got nothing on, guess I could go to class... That asshole's on the schedule. Pass." 明日どうすっかな……暇だし、たまには授業出とくか？ ……あいつのコマあるわ。やめとこ

Lmao 'i guess i could go to class--wait my brother's teaching one of them tomorrow? Fuck that then.'

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"All right, that's the morning prep done. Guess I'll shower and go back to bed." うし、朝の仕込みはこんなもんか。後は……シャワー浴びて二度寝だな

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"This? It's a fishing rod. Sometimes I catch and filet the fish myself. It's pretty easy, and it saves cash." あ？　これか？　釣り竿だよ。たまに自分で魚釣ってさばくわけ。 簡単だし、コスパ良いだろ？

Fishing with Sho. . .sounds nice and chill. Also did the pc not recognize a fuckin fishing rod. . . .

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"{PC}, there you are. I'm headed to the diner, could you come with and help me carry some stuff?" お、センパイ見っけた。俺、今からダイナー行くんだけどよ。ちょっと荷物持ち手伝ってくんね？

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"You think I look grumpy? The stream for the finals started at 3 AM, what do you want me to do about that? (yawn)" ……あ？　機嫌が悪ぃって？ しょうがねぇだろ……決勝の中継、夜中の３時開始だぜ？ ふぁあ……

Staying up late to watch a basketball game, much like Leo he does not go to bed until the sun's up ordinarily lmao

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Hey... Pfft. What are you panicking for? You need to be somewhere? Hop on—I'll give you a ride." お、センパイじゃん。ぷっ……なんだよその余裕ねぇ顔。 急いでんなら、乗っけてってやろうか？

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You hungry, {PC}? I made lunch, but Leo bailed on me, so I was just gonna eat it myself." センパイ、腹減ってねぇ？ 昼飯作ったんだけどよ。玲音のやつ来ねぇし、食っちまおうと思って

Sho: hey our boyfriend ditched me wanna have lunch with me

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Last year I would've been in a club around this time. Leo was always getting in fights though, so we got banned from almost every joint in Shibuya." 昔はこの時間、毎日クラブいてよ。玲音がすぐ喧嘩すっから、渋谷の箱ほとんど出禁になっちまったけどな

Menace boyfriend Leo lmao

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"{PC}, black or white? I'm trying to choose some packaging for the food truck, what'd you think I meant? ...I'll keep it in mind, anyway." センパイさ、白と黒どっちが好き？ ……出前の容器の話なんだけどな。ま、一応覚えといてやるよ

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Geez, it's pretty late. Wait there—I'll give you a ride back." もうこんな時間かよ…… 送ってくわ。そこで待ってろ

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Seriously, it's way too early for this... What? I'm going to class. You're the one who wouldn't shut up about it." はぁ……マジねみぃ…… あ？　今から授業行くんだよ。あんたが行けってうるせぇからだろ

Ordinarily doesn't go to class(a lot of them don't tbh, and Luca says the classes are elective so the ghouls probably don't have to) but will go if you want him to I guess! Leo's gonna call him whipped but Leo already knows he's whipped because he's the one who's been whipping him--

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I've finally got the hang of running this food truck. I want to thank you for helping me out—think of something you want." キッチンカーも大分慣れてきたわ。手伝ってもらった礼もしてぇし、何か欲しいもの、考えといて

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Huh? No, I don't really need any help today... You don't have to make excuses to hang out with me, you know. Just ask." 手伝い？　今日は特にねぇけど…… センパイ、俺と一緒にいたいって、素直に言えば？

"senpai, why don't you just tell me honestly if you wanna be with me?" Is the Japanese here I think and. idk i love that. He's catching on and teasing you a little.

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What time you planning on heading home, {PC}? Anytime's fine for me. You can stay over if you want." センパイ、今日何時に帰る予定？俺は別に、何時でも…… なんなら、泊まってってもいいぜ？

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Can't sleep? Come over here—I'll warm you up. Pfft... I was kidding, don't get mad." なんだよ……寝れねぇのか？あっためてやるから、こっち来い。 ぷっ……冗談だって。怒んなよ

WERE YOU KIDDING THO. WERE YOU? KINDA HIGH AFFINITY TO JOKE LIKE THAT. AND YOU JUST SAID THEY COULD STAY OVER IF THEY WANTED. . .CHOOSE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY SHOHEI

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Here, this helmet's for you. I got some time today, so I'll take you somewhere. Anywhere you wanna go." はい、あんたのメット。今日は時間あっから、センパイの行きたいとこ連れてってやるよ

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"Forget it, I can't keep my eyes open. Wake me when it's noon." 駄目だ。ねみぃ。昼んなったら起こして

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Pretty warm out lately, huh? Bet it's already snorkeling season in Okinawa. I used to go pretty often." もう大分あったかくなってきたな。沖縄じゃ、シュノーケリングできる時期だぜ？　昔はよく行ってたわ

He plays basketball, he skateboards, he fishes, he snorkels, this bitch loves sports lol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"This? It's chirashizushi. Cuts are pretty chic, right? The idea came to me when I was over in Hotarubi." これか？　ちらし寿司作ってんの、飾り切り渋ぃだろ。 ホタルビ行ったら、こんなイメージが湧いたからよ

Chirashizushi is sushi ingredients cut into small pieces and scattered over sushi rice! It comes in a lot of variation and isn't always made with raw fish like you might expect sushi to be.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"If I can get an R&R permit granted, I want to go for a solo ride. Haven't been for ages, and riding through the cherry blossoms this time of year feels awesome." 外出許可出たらよ、久々にひとりで走りてぇわ。この時期の桜坂辺り、最高に気持ちいんだよな……



Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Damn, I'm melting here... I need a haircut. Nah I don't need a barber, I just do it myself. 'Course I'm serious." クソ暑ぃ……そろそろ髪切んねぇとな…… 美容院？　めんどくせぇから自分で切ってっけど。マジだぜ？

Sho really knows a little about everything huh. He cuts his own hair, he memorizes textbooks, he plays every sport, he can cook. . .is there anything Sho can't do? In his character story he even says he played guitar for a little while but hasn't done it lately, so music is probably within his wheelhouse too.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Sweating my ass off over here... It's been like a year since I last played basketball. Mido's core's gotta be made of steel... Oh, is that water for me? Thanks." 暑ぃ！　バスケしたの１年ぶりか？御堂センパイ、体幹強すぎだろ…… お、水くれんの？　サンキュ

actually i'd like to see alan playing basketball too. . .it's nice to know he doesn't just work out by sparring and running, he'll play sports too.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Summer homework? Nah, haven't done it yet. Only takes a day, right? Pfft... You want me to help you?" 夏の課題？　まだやってねぇけど。あんなもん一日で終わるだろ？ ぷっ……センパイ手伝ってやろうか

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Leo won't shut up about wanting to let off fireworks, but no way am I doing that shit with him again. I'm sure you can guess why." 玲音が花火してぇってうるせぇんだけどよ、俺は二度とあいつとはやんねぇって決めてんの。わかんだろ？

wtf was Leo doing with the fireworks that Sho decided he's never settijng off fireworks with him again. . .was he just pointing them at him lmao. Leo also has a line referencing this!



Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Yesterday when I was fishing in the river I saw this guy who looked like one of the Frostheim ghouls out there. Can't have been though, right?" 昨日川釣り行ってきたんだけどよ、フロストハイムの奴に似てんのがいた気がすんだよな……人違いか？

which one. . .i mean if it was Luca he was probably training, but if it was Kaito. . .idk what Kaito would be doing out in the river by himself. . .I know it wasn't Jin but if it was Tohma maybe it was some official business. . .? Or, y'know, spy stuff. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Geez, don't pipe up outta the blue like that. ...What? You gotta a problem with me reading a book?" ビビった。いきなり声かけんなよ。 ……なんだよ、その顔。俺が本読んでちゃ悪ぃのか？　あ？

sho has been saying like this entire time 'yeah i read and memorize the textbooks instead of going to class' how is the pc so shocked to see him ACTUALLY READING. Then again, i also wouldn't think he's a hobby reader. . .on the other hand he's got like every hobby he can get his hands on, so it makes sense.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Pfft... Hey, {PC}. Come over here. Geez, what're you doing walking around with a leaf in your hair?" ぷっ……【名★前】センパイ、ちょっとこっち来い。 ったく、なんで髪に葉っぱ付けてんだよ……

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Scariest Ghost Videos to Fuel Your Nightmares... I asked a buddy for some good videos to kill the time, and he sent me this..." 『最恐の怨霊ビデオ集』…… ダチに暇つぶしになる動画教えろっつったら、これ送られてきたんだよ

it's hard to tell based on his expression how he feels about this lol

i wonder if he's not really into horror stuff or it makes him feel uneasy after the PC got attacked by Takeru?



Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"I get more delivery orders on cold days... It's a pain in the ass, but I guess I'll just wear an extra layer..." 寒ぃ日ってさ、出前の注文やたら増えんだよな…… めんどくせぇけど今日は１枚多めに着とくか……

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Damn, I really wanna go snowboarding. I used to go every year before I ended up here... Think they got a good slope in Frostheim?" マジでスノボ行きてぇ……ここ来る前は、毎年必ず行ってたのによぉ。 フロストハイムで滑れねぇの？

I bet they do I mean rich people would wanna go skiing now and then right? It's just a matter of would they let a vagastromer use them. . .then again what're they gonna do, stop him?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Huh? I'm looking at a catalog. I could serve hot food if I had an electric pot. I'm thinking about it." ……あぁ？　カタログ見てんだよ。保温ジャーがありゃ、あったけぇメニュー出せんだろ？ 考え中

this makes it sound like his food isn't served hot lol to my understanding he does make everything in advance, not on the spot but i assume he means like. hot-hot. like soups for the winter kind of thing. he should do it! serve up some new england clam chowder.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm freezing my ass off... I just saw Mido walk past in a T-shirt. Are his nerve endings dead?" クソ寒ぃ……さっき御堂センパイ、Ｔシャツ１枚で出てったんだけど。自律神経狂ってんじゃねぇ？

Apparently I'm Alan lmao i too experience less cold than other people



His birthday: (August 19th)

"What, you're gonna celebrate my birthday? What do I want for a present? Hmm... I'll take you. Just kidding." へぇ、俺の誕生日祝ってくれんの？プレゼント…… じゃあさ、あんたのことくれよ。 なんてな

Y'KNOW I'M SURE THEY WOULDN'T MIND IF YOU WEREN'T KIDDING THO YOU ARE VERY POPULAR then again based on his valentine's day dialogue he knows that lol



Your birthday:

"Know what this is, {PC}? Yep—an R&R permit. Today's your birthday, right? So, where are we going?" センパイ、これ何だと思う？　そ、外出許可書。 今日、誕生日だろ？どこ行きたいか考えとけよ

I'm beginning to suspect that he heavily values freedom and being able to go where he wants and do what he wants. That includes taking you wherever you wanna go. Even at max affinity he has the same response--'we're going somewhere, anywhere you want.' At max affinity he doesn't mention an R&R permit--which suggests he doesn't care if you get in trouble going out, as long as you actually get to go out. One of the first things we see him talking about relating to Darkwick is asking Leo if he regrets going--I think Sho regrets it. He can't leave whenever he wants, even though he's one of the top students as far as grades, he's more restricted in what he's allowed to do and when. . .so I think these offers to drive you anywhere in total freedom are his ways of showing you what means the most to him. Just. . .being able to do whatever, whenever. I think that's also part of why he likes Leo so much. Leo doesn't let himself be restricted either. Leo gets into fights and into trouble and Sho complains about it but he understands the liberation. Sho wants to see that unrestricted you, I think. Even if it isn't anything extreme, even if it isn't anything exciting. He wants to see what you're like out of Darkwick's cage. So he'll take you on little joyrides into freedom. Show him where you go and what you do when no one's there to stop you.

New Years: (January 1st)

"What'd I wish for at midnight? For this year to be peaceful... Not that any gods are listening out for us." 新年の願い事ねぇ……今年こそ、平穏無事に過ごせますように…… って、神様叶える気ねぇだろな

Well when you've been chosen by demons. . .yeah, you're probably not on the good side of many gods.



Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Yeah, these are all the chocolates I got. No idea how I'm gonna get through them all... So? You didn't get me anything?" ああ、これ全部もらったチョコ。これ食いきんのきちぃんだよな…… で、センパイは俺にくれねぇの？

I'm surprised Leo's wasn't similar to this tbh. Like, Leo's an influencer, why didn't he mention getting a metric fuckton of valentine's day chocolate? I'm happy Sho's loved by the students tho haha.



White Day: (March 13th)

"Baking sweets and cooking are totally different. It's not really in my wheelhouse, but... here. My firsts. Thanks for the chocolates." 菓子作りと料理は別もんだからよ、普段はやんねぇんだけど…… はい。俺の初焼き菓子、お返しにどうぞ

THE FIRST TIME HE EVER BAKED AND IT'S FOR YOU what a sweetheart. considering how good he is at just about everything i'm sure they came out just fine



April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Hey, it's snowing outside. Wait, guess that's not so unlikely in this place... I used to get duped by that one all the time when I was a kid." おい、外、雪降ってんぞ？ って、この学園じゃ嘘になんねぇか。ガキの頃、これ何回やられたことか……

we found the one thing he's not good at! pulling pranks!

Halloween: (October 31st)

"You really need an explanation? Leo made me wear it! Shit, why am I always the girl..." ああ？　言わなくてもわかんだろ。玲音に着せられたんだっつの！ クソ、なんで毎年女装なんだよ……

Your boyfriend best friend makes you crossdress for him on Halloween on a yearly basis. . .and you do it!!!



Christmas: (December 25th)

"Sorry for making you help me prep all these roast chicken orders... Wanna do something Christmassy together once we're done?" センパイ、チキンの注文さばくの手伝わせて悪ぃ…… 今日の分片付いたら、俺らもクリスマス楽しもうぜ

Christmas is often considered a holiday spent with a lover in Japan to my understanding. . .what are you suggesting Sho. . . .



Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"What're you looking at?" あぁ？　見てんじゃねぇよ

little peek at the delinquent thug vibe lol

(13 affinity and above)

"C'mon. Hurry up, or I'm gonna leave you behind." センパイ、そろそろ行くぞ。早くしねぇと置いてっちまうぜ？

Always on the go, always doing something, he doesn't wanna leave you behind but he won't wait too long so. . .come back already?

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"What took you so long? Your food's cold. Go wash up." 遅ぇよ……あんたの飯、冷めちまっただろ。 さっさと手ぇ洗ってこい

Alright, mom.

I STILL FEEL LIKE I CHOSE A BUNCH THIS ONE IS ALSO ALL OF THEM NOW . . .Sho is pretty lowkey. But after rereading them all and giving it some thought, you can definitely get a feel for his character. He seems like he keeps busy a lot--he's always doing something. Cooking, playing sports, reading, memorizing his textbooks. . .he's confident and comfortable and sometimes he's a bit rough around the edges. And sometimes he's a little flirty too, if he likes you. But that's all part of how confident and self-assured he is--and he has plenty of reason to be when he's so smart and skilled at damn near everything he touches. He acts more like the senpai character here. He's a lot like Haku, except where Haku is a bit lazier and less motivated(although he still works hard) Sho is always on the go. Always up to something, always trying something. He likes to keep busy and doesn't like to sit still--to the point that he even considers going to class when he's got nothing to do during the day. He wakes up and has nothing to do? Let's call Leo, he's usually got something going on. He complains about Alan making him work out so much or go to the pit or play basketball real hard? He still goes and does it anyway. But it seems like he just. . .always wants to be busy. I can't really think of many points he just kinda had downtime. Yeah, he goes fishing and reads and watches basketball(?) but like. . .he's still occupied even then. Then again maybe that's because he's stuck in Darkwick. He'd rather be driving around somewhere or doing some sport but he can't do so much unless he can leave. . .he feels a little restless to me. But maybe that's just me haha.

[bamboozledbird]

𝕚𝕗 𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Theo Raeken, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall Pairing(s): Stiles x fem!reader, Stiles x you (no use of y/n), Theo x fem!reader, Stiles x ofc Word Count: 7k (bbygurl got away from me oops) Tags: Hurt/a little, itty bit of comfort, angst is my lifeblood i fear, let's play a game of who can find all the noah kahan lyrics Warnings: Underage drinking/drug use (at least in america rip, they're all 19+), suggestive language, some light cheating, i think that's it?, sad girl summer :'(

Request: “You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!” for stiles please and thnk you!!!

Part II: after many requests, here’s the happy ending: part two A/N: i am well aware theo is way too nice, and me personally?? could never forgive him for hurting scott mccall, the light of my fucking life. but it's for the plot. the things we must do for the plot of it all. i might make a part two? but this was already long, and i liked the conclusion enough to stop. lemme know if that sounds interesting to y'all. ps: listen to strawberry wine and the view between villages for vibes.

That first night, you drove home—207 miles in less than 3 hours, sobbing the entire way. Didn’t matter that you were right in the middle of finals. Didn’t matter that you had Math 19 at 8:00 in the morning. Nothing mattered except for the ringing in your ears, the blistering echoes of, ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ over and over and over again until you stumbled into the house you grew up in—the house he practically grew up in. He was all over every room, all over your entire goddamn hometown, all over you, and you had this desperate, crawling urge to scrub your skin raw. Strip everything away with turpentine until the shadows of his hands and mouth were gone, until you couldn’t smell cedar and 15 years of summer nights and Sunday mornings. 

That night you cried so hard it scared your sister. She spent most of the night with her back slumped against your bedroom door, fingertips poking through the little crack underneath, just like she did the first night your parents brought you home. She had to know that you were breathing, had to make sure that your little chest was rising and falling in your sweet bassinet—if you were inhaling in-between your fractured sobs. You eventually cried yourself to sleep—like a baby, like a broken heart—and thrashed around sweat-damp sheets and dreams of him kissing someone else on his couch. 

Months later, you finally realize it’s a bit self-involved to think that the universe cares enough about your short, temporal existence to conspire against you…but it certainly feels like it when you tie it all together with red string. After Stiles stopped wanting you, everything just…decayed, rotted, died—so quickly, too quickly for you to bury any of the remains. You’re still grieving Allison, constantly, and currently failing at least half your classes, and, oh yeah, battling literal demons at least three times a week—but mostly, you’re just tired. You’re just so goddamn tired of it all.   

To put it plainly, you’re drowning. 

That must be why the neat lines of text in your Math 20 textbook are swirling into indecipherable whirlpools. It’s just so…frustrating. You get math. Math is your thing. Derivatives shouldn’t ever send you into a bout of angry tears—but you are, you’re angry. Angry at the numbers for blurring into something unrecognizable, angry at yourself for not recognizing them, for becoming a person you don’t know or like. Your lashes clump together, and few mascara-tinted tears drop onto the glossy pages. At least, the cloudy text isn’t a hallucination now. 

 “Are you okay?”

The library is quiet, so quiet that you should’ve heard him coming, but you jump at the sound of Theo’s voice. You don’t know him that well; Theo isn’t really the kind of guy you’d talk to, at least not before everything you knew slipped through your fingers. It’s not like you ever disliked him; it’s just…he’s always been everything you’re not—focused, organized, completely in control. He’s confident but not cocky, smart but not arrogant, ridiculously good-looking but just charismatic enough that you can’t really hate him for all the maiming and scheming he pulled last year. He’s been punished enough, you think, and sure—maybe a part of you feels that way simply because Stiles doesn’t.

You haven’t spoken to Theo much, not really. Scott does most of the talking when he shows up to the occasional pack meeting, and Lydia won’t let him within ten feet of you anyway. Frankly, you don’t realize that he knows your name until he says it. His voice is soft in a way that you know isn’t just because of library conduct. It’s his eyes, you think—they’re warm with a concern you aren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve.

You nod and then blink at the fuzzy pages of your math book, eyes almost vacant, “I just…I don't understand.”

Theo sits down next to you and leans forward, scanning the text briefly, “Which part?”

You flush, “...all of it.”

He doesn’t laugh or roll his eyes like you thought he might. Instead, he pulls his chair closer to yours and reaches for a pencil. “Most people will tell you that derivatives are the ‘instantaneous rates of change.’ That’s what the book says, and it’s kind of true, but you’re right—that doesn’t actually make any sense. Things can’t actually change in a single instant, right? Obviously, change happens between two instances, so what they actually mean is a derivative's the rate of instantaneous change measured as precisely as possible.” Theo’s voice is soft in your ear as he drags his finger across your textbook, connecting the vague definitions to numbers that actually compute through your teary haze.

You sit back and just watch for a minute, a little in awe, as he makes all the squiggles into numbers again—and you haven’t been found more than a few feet away from him ever since. You guess it’s because you’re hoping, against all odds, that he can do the same for your life. At least in some small way, maybe.

It’s definitely easier to show up to Lydia's party with his hand in yours. 

You’re all back in Beacon Hills for the summer, and it’s nice. It really is. During the school year, you’re spread all across the state for the most part—you, Theo, and Lydia at Stanford; Scott, Kira, and Malia at UC-Davis; Liam and Mason, the babies, about to start their senior year of high school (it makes you want to cry if you think about it too long); Derek in…wherever he ends up for a season (it was fun to visit while he was in New York, and you secretly hope he makes a return in the fall); and, of course, there’s Stiles. He’s all the way on the other side of the country for his Quantico internship, and you still can’t escape him. His hands are all over your scent, all over every important moment of your life since pre-school. Sometimes, you think that you’ll always be one breath away from choking on the memory of him. But it’s easier, you remind yourself; it’s easier to be a minute away from home with Theo standing next to you. 

The music is loud in Lydia’s front room, thumping through your chest and sharpening the anxiety crawling through your veins—gnawing at your corneas until all you can see are flashing lights through a haze of vape and weed: pink, blue, green, red, and then pink again.

Theo tightens his grip on your hand and gently pulls you into the kitchen. It’s still loud, but the air is clearer here, and the crowd is thin. There’s a couple you vaguely recognize from high school making out on the granite countertop, too enwrapped in each other’s tongues to notice the mixer-sticky surface, and a couple boys who were on the lacrosse team gather drinks for another round of beer pong behind them. 

“You’re psychic,” you hum, resting your chin against the little dip in Theo’s sternum so that you can grin up at him, “tell the truth.”

He laughs easily and wraps his arms around your waist, the solid weight releasing some of the vague unease stubbornly clinging to your synapses. “I solemnly swear that my supernatural abilities end at claws and fangs. I just know you; that’s all.” 

You hum as he sways with you a little and shake your head, “It’s only been a few weeks. You’ve gotta have some help from the other side.”

Theo shrugs and lifts you onto the counter behind him—a non-sticky patch, thankfully—and brushes your hair out of your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been paying attention for a little longer than a few weeks.”

You tilt your head and purse your lips into a pout you hope is even half as cute as the wicked gleam in Theo’s eyes, “How long?”

He shrugs again and ducks down to murmur in your ear, “Maybe since the first grade.”

His breath is warm against your cheek, but you know that’s not the only reason your face feels hot. You push against his chest, pulling a little face, “Shut up.”

Theo laughs and grabs your wrists, kissing your knuckles, “I’m serious! You were so cute with your little pigtails and missing teeth.”

You whine a little, embarrassed as you are as pleased, and hide your face in his neck. It smells good, a little citrusy from his cologne and a little sweaty from the sheer amount of grinding bodies in the house—like a man, like he can and will take care of you. “Stop it. I hated those bangs.”

He pinches your sides a little, “And the way you’d always shoot your hand up first—with the right answer, of course—I was smitten.”

You pull away from his neck and arch your brow, “Was?”

“Am,” he concedes with a soft smile, cupping your cheek and thumbing along your lash line, “am completely smitten.” 

He dips in to kiss you, lips barely an eyelash-width away from yours, when a prim cough pulls him away from his spot in-between your legs. You peer around his shoulder and roll your eyes, albeit fondly, at the stern look on Lydia’s face. She’s always been protective of you, even more so after Allison and the whole Stiles debacle, but you’re a bit tired of the Theo Raeken witch hunt. 

You slip down from the counter and rock onto your tiptoes to kiss Theo’s cheek—mainly to see the pinch in Lydia’s perfectly tapered brows. “Can you put this in the coat room,” you hum against his skin, shrugging off your baggy leather jacket. He knows the real reason you’re sending him away—of course he does, sometimes it feels like he knows everything—but he goes with a smirk anyway because, despite Lydia and Stiles’s suspicions, he’s trying his absolute hardest to redeem himself. 

“You could be a little nicer, y’know,” you reach for a hard lemonade from the ice bucket dripping a puddle of water onto the tile floor. You uncap it on the lip of the massive island and fold your arms over your chest, “He’s been nothing but the perfect boyfriend so far.”

Lydia matches your stance, brows curving, “Boyfriend?”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears. You haven’t actually discussed labels or exclusivity—you think it’s too early; don’t want to scare him off, but Lydia doesn’t need to know that. “Boyfriend.”

Her curls trickle over her shoulder like the strawberry wine in her cup as she tips her chin and purses her lips into a flat line, “Stiles is here.” 

You try not to react—aren’t entirely sure why you do—and hide your complicated frown behind a sip of lemonade. It’s extra bitter going down. “Okay?”

Lydia shifts her weight from one Jimmy Choo to the other and sighs heavily, “He’s not going to like it.”

A flare of irritation sparks in your gut that you chase with a tip of your bottle. “Okay?” you mutter, wiping the excess liquid away with the back of your hand. A smear of nude lipstick is left behind, and you feel the sudden need to leave some on Theo’s neck for everyone to see. 

“I’m just warning you; it’s going to be a whole thing,” Lydia waves her hand in the air as she takes a dainty sip from her cup. Her pink manicure shines under the lights, and you wonder briefly how she can make every color look good with her red hair.

You hum and lean forward, grin a little sloppy as you sidle up to her side, “That you’ll be on my side for. Obviously.”

Lydia watches you carefully, eyes heavy, and tucks some of the hair falling in your face behind your ear. “Obviously,” she takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, and you feel a little less giggly and a lot more tender. 

You let her pull you into the crowded front room for a dance. It’s a good song, you think. Happy, lots of bass to jump to, and you’re shiny-faced and giddy by the time it’s over. 

Meandering towards the back patio for some fresh air, you pull your tank top away from your torso, gauzy material sticky with sweat and someone’s body glitter. You aren’t entirely sure where Theo ended up, but you take it as a good sign that he’s mingling with your friends—which, bless his crooked little heart, is all he’s ever wanted. 

The night breeze is so nice against your clammy skin that you feel a little lightheaded. You collapse on a padded deckchair and kick your feet up onto a keg, empty, most likely, based on its current state of abandonment. After a moment of hazy tranquility, a red solo cup filled to the brim with an unknown, potent liquid blocks your view of the winking gold embellishments on your boots. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Scott smiles at you from his slight bend over your head.

You take the cup from Scott eagerly and down about half of it to soothe the rawness in your throat—asthma is a bitch in hotboxes, makes you almost consider asking Scott for the bite. “I need about ten,” you hum, licking the little dribble of cherry-something from the corner of your mouth. It’s too sweet, but the ice is easing the beginnings of a headache forming in your temples. 

Scott sits down next to you, and you grumble a little as he nudges your side with his elbow until he has enough room to stretch his legs out too. “You look happy,” he grins at you, eyes crinkly and sweet. “Been a minute since I’ve seen that.”

“I feel happy,” you lean against his side and rest your cup against your cheek. The condensation gathered on the plastic is a godsend against your flushed face. “For the first time in…way too long.”

“Good,” Scott's voice is sincere, in the most genuinely empathic way that only Scott McCall can be, and he gently nudges your foot with his, “I’ve been worried.” He pauses and looks down at the contents of his cup, watches the ice slowly melt into whatever he poured for taste alone—you don’t like the pensive squint in his eyes. “You know I want to trust Theo, right? I really want to believe that he’s changed.”

You sigh a little, but because he only ever wants the best for everyone and, well, because it’s Scott, you say, “But?”

He gives his hands a small frown and taps his finger against the side of his drink, “Not a but, exactly. I do think he’s different now.” The mostly goes unsaid, and you watch him closely, waiting for him to finish. “I just want you to be careful, that’s all. I don’t want you to…rush into anything after, well,” Scott scratches the back of his neck a little and winces, “you know.”

“After Stiles dumped me because, ‘he needed space,’ and then started dating someone new two weeks later,” you finish for him flatly. He hadn’t even been subtle about it. His new girl was all over his Insta within the month—and she’s still fucking stunning in his flannels weeks later. Your stomach turns, but you swallow another mouthful of your dri—rum and Cherry Coke, you finally place the flavor, smiling a little at the memory of getting tipsy on the same drink at Senior prom with Scott, Kira, and…Stiles. It’s a good memory, you decide. You won’t let him take it from you.

“Yeah.” Scott sighs into his drink and then takes a long chug, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, you know? None of us do.”

“I know,” you smile at him fondly and kiss his cheek, “and it’s very sweet, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” 

Scott smiles, bright and puppy-like, and then his head cocks with his little sixth-sense tick—also puppy-like, you think with a smirk. Scott’s grin fades and he murmurs, “Three o’clock,” against the rim of his cup.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

Scott laughs, but it’s strained, and then nods towards something across the pool, “To your right.”

You turn your head, expecting to see one of your friends doing something stupid, and freeze momentarily when you meet Stiles’s gaze. His eyes are a little unfocused, murky with whatever’s in his plastic cup, but they sharpen when he sees you. He backs down first, and you polish off your drink, craving the sweet burn in your throat. “I need another drink.”

“You need to talk to him,” Scott says, and he takes your empty cup away from you, like he’s worried you can magically refill it with the simple power of desire. “If you can’t do it for him, do it for me. His brooding is really getting out of control.”

You don’t bother bringing up that Stiles is the one who ended it or that he brought his new girlfriend home with him. “Maybe,” you shoot Scott a sly grin and try to snag his drink from his hands, but your clumsy fingers are no match for his werewolf reflexes, “I do love and cherish you very, very much.”

Scott laughs and ruffles your hair, approaching noogie territory. “Should’ve gone out with me.”

You can’t help but look for him through the fog rising above the heated pool. Stiles’s face is pale in the reflection of the lit water; the shadows ripple across his cheeks when he tugs his girlfriend into a sloppy kiss—Chelsea, you recall, proud that there’s only a little bitterness coating the thought. “Don’t I know it,” you finally say. It’s the churning reflection and the smell of chlorine, you reason; that’s why you feel a bit like throwing up your last couple drinks.

Scott frowns when you don’t swat at his side or make fun of him, like you’d usually do in the face of such ridiculous teasing, and follows your gaze. “But that was never going to happen, huh,” he says quietly. “Not with the…” he trails off, face scrunching as he searches for the right words, “throbbingly in love since birth thing.”

You laugh through the stabbing sensation in your chest. “Throbbingly?”

He waves his free hand as he takes another sip of his drink, “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do,” you say, a small smile twitching on your face as Scott spills most of his red drink onto his white t-shirt.

He sighs and pulls the soaked material away from his chest, head darting around as he looks for something to mop up the mess. “You guys were just like…always ahead of everybody from the beginning, you know? Brains, love, all of it. I swear you both were actually born like 30—okay, it probably has more to do with the…” 

“Early on-set trauma?” you fill-in for him, sparing him the unpleasantness of bringing up dead mothers and mental illness.

Scott nods and licks his bottom lip before continuing, “I remember this kid had a huge crush on you, like way back in elementary school, and even at nine years old I knew he didn’t have a shot. It was just obvious, you know? It was always going to be the two of you. It was just always gonna end up that way.”

You almost laugh at the sight: Scott dabbing at his shirt with a pink beach towel and oh-so casually confirming that your worst fears aren’t only valid but in fact a reality. Maybe, you really can’t love someone else, not the way you loved him. Maybe, you’re just kidding yourself when you talk about it in the past-tense. Maybe, it really is just the two of you, even if it’s all in your head now. 

“I’m definitely not drunk enough for this,” you try to sound flippant, but your words are as shaky as the hand you're raking through your hair. It’s already a mess, but you can’t stop. Your hands need to do something. 

“Then you’re really not gonna like what’s coming next,” Scott says as he jerks his thumb towards something behind him.

You turn your head, and your eyes widen when you see Stiles trudging towards the two of you with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. The chair’s metal frame squeaks with Scott’s shifting weight. He clamors to his feet, mumbling something about cleaning his shirt, and you give him your most intimidating glower, “Scott, if you walk away from me right now, I swear to fuckin’ god, I’ll never—Hi.” Your tone is clipped, short and to the point, when Stiles stops in front of you.

“Hey,” Stiles’s voice is dull, void of emotion, and so is his face. He stares at you, and you wish you knew what was really flickering behind that burnt umber and citrine honey. There was a time when you would’ve known—when you always knew. It’s so strange, you think, so strange how quickly someone can become a stranger.

You clear your throat and tuck your legs underneath yourself, tugging on the hem of your short skirt to maintain some semblance of modesty. His eyes still dart to your upper thigh, lingering on the strip of skin that’s bared when you sit upright. It’s only for a split second—but it’s enough. He’s seen it before, after all. Felt it with his long fingers and open palms. Dragged his lips across it, and left wet, open-mouth kisses along every inch—but he still looks like he wants to sink his teeth into the supple flesh one last time. 

You swallow, hard, and stand, “So…how’ve you been?”

“Fine,” he replies flatly. “Obviously not as good as you.”

Your lips purse as your eyes narrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“First Theo Raeken, now Scott McCall: True Alpha, God among werewolves, Messiah of Beacon Hills. I’m genuinely impressed—bottom of my heart, babe. I mean, s’quite the body count if we’re talkin’ claws and body hair alone,” he spits. Despite the slight slur in his words, his consonants are barbed and serrated at the edges. They prick your skin and sting long after he finishes, and you know they’re going to follow you all the way home.

“Don’t be a dick,” you snap, wrapping your arms tightly around your biceps. The chill isn’t so pleasant anymore.  

“What? I’m just giving you the props you’ve so clearly earned. You’ve got the magic touch.” Stiles cants his head in a way that distinctly reminds you of someone else—a monster who stole the face of the boy you loved a lifetime ago. “I’d ask how good the sex is, but I already know. It’s that thing you do with your tongue, right? When you’re givin’ head? That’s how you get ‘em, huh. Suckers—” his drink spills on his shoes when he lets out a sharp chortle, “suckers. Didn’t even mean to do that.” 

You stare at him, eyes burning, and try to determine exactly how drunk he is. “Stop it.” You do your best to look more annoyed than devastated—the last thing you need is to start crying like you still care. He can't win; you won’t let him, not like this. “Just stop. It’s pathetic—you’re pathetic.”

Something complicated rolls over his face, and Stiles clenches his fists, “Whatever. Guess it’ll be too late to say told’ya so when he rips your heart out and broils it—or whatever the fuck psychopaths do for fun these days.” 

Your face crumples a little—not because you think Theo would ever actually hurt you but because Stiles sounds so ambivalent about the possibility. Sometimes you hate him, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot—but you’ve never stopped caring, not once. You never stop worrying about if he’ll make it out alive, if he'll survive with all his breakable bones and fragile skin intact. You find yourself staring at the ceiling until the sun rises, dwelling on all the horrific, life-or-death situations he’ll end up in when he graduates from the Academy years from now. Stiles was your best friend years before he was your boyfriend. Did all that really not matter now? Just because of something as stupid as a breakup? It’s just so…high school. You really thought it’d been…more. 

Everything. You used to think it was everything.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Stiles,” you shove past him, stumbling a bit over your boots’ chunky heel and a little too much rum. 

He doesn’t follow you, and you should be glad. You should be happy that he isn’t there to witness the black smears under your eyes or the snot you’re trying to hide with a few discreet sniffles. You should be grateful that he doesn’t see Theo pull you into his side and take you home, grateful that he can’t ruin the soft kisses Theo rains down on the crown of your head and the way he doesn’t push to come inside after you say your parents are gone.

But you aren’t, and you hate yourself for it. 

You barely manage to wipe off what’s left of your makeup with a damp towel and throw on some clean clothes before you tumble into bed. You’re still sweaty, grimy with tears and a night of dancing, but the rum is hitting hard, and you just want to go to sleep and forget he ever existed.

You’re halfway between sleep and consciousness in the early hours of the morning when you hear a loud thud against your bedroom window. The thudding continues, and with a great sigh you slip out of your sheets, hissing when your bare feet land on the cold floor. You slowly shuffle towards the bay window, trying to forget it's where you had your first kiss, and kneel on the cushioned bench. You have to rub at your eyes a few times when you see Stiles trying to break into your house. You only unlock the latch after you convince yourself that you’re going to push him off of the roof into the rose bushes two stories below, and then, of course, you sit back on your heels so that he has room to crawl through the narrow opening. 

“When the fuck did you start locking your window?” Stiles stumbles into your room and catches himself against the floor with his palm, feet still dangling over the windowsill. You take great pleasure in shoving his legs off of the window seat and watching him fall face-first onto the carpeted rug. He grunts when he lands and rubs his jaw as he sits up, “Guess I deserved that.” 

His lips part when he gets a good look at you, backlit by the moon and all his worst mistakes. You’re in an old t-shirt from middle school, bleach stains all along the left shoulder, and a pair of baggy sweatpants with ratty holes around the hem from years of dragging against the ground. Your face is still tacky with tears, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

You shift uncomfortably, pull your knees to your chest, and shiver as the night air drifts through the open window, “Still drunk?” 

“Not so much,” he holds up a mostly steady hand.

“Still a fucking asshole?”

“Probably.” Stiles bites his lip and shrugs, “Definitely.”

You stare at him, sniffling quietly, hoping that he can’t hear how pathetic it sounds, “Stiles, what are you doing here?” 

He drums his fingers against his thighs and shrugs again. You want to smack him. And hold him. And maybe drink some more liver poison until the school year starts again. “Dunno, just started walkin’, n’ I ended up here.” Stiles closes his eyes, and his lashes are so strikingly dark against his pale skin. “I always end up here,” he whispers like a vow, like a prayer, like forever. 

You dig your toes into the bench and swallow a hiccup. “Don’t,” your protest is weak, and you blame it on your sore throat. “You can’t say shit like that. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Stiles rubs a hand over his face. He’s in need of a shave, you notice, or…maybe not. You kind of like the stubble the more you get used to it—your tipsy, sleep-deprived mind stupidly wonders what it’d feel like between your thighs. Stiles sighs, returning your attention to far more unpleasant thoughts, “But I just want to.” He leans onto his palms and tips his head back between his shoulders, shaking his head at the ceiling. “I just wanna say it all, all the things I thought while you were gone. Knew I would the second I saw you.”

“You’re—” your tongue is thick as you struggle for words over the conflicting emotions wrangling each other in your throat, “you’re so fuckin’—you can’t just come here and act like—” You rub aggressively at your eyes and push yourself to your feet, “You need to go, Stiles. I want you to go.”

Stiles stands with you and cards his fingers through his hair. It’s long, curling around his ears, and you turn your gaze away from him, staring at the wall and digging your fingers into your forearms to stop yourself from reaching for him. “Can we just…talk?” he whispers, whether it’s for his sake or yours, you’re not entirely sure. He looks small, scared, but you can’t tell if he’s afraid for you or of you. “Just for a little bit. I need…I just need another minute. That’s all, and then I’ll go. Promise.”

I need. I need. I need. It’s always what he needs on his time. You cross the floor with wild eyes and snap, “What do you want to talk about? Huh? How you left me for someone else, or how I’m such a fucking whore for moving on?”

He grits his teeth and grabs your wrists, long fingers overlapping around the delicate bones when you try to yank away from his firm grip. “You think this is what I want?” He doesn’t yell. Somehow, that’s worse. “You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!”

You thrash in Stiles’s arms, and his pained expression is blurry through your wet glare, “You had me! I was yours! I was so fucking in love with you, and then you—you just ended it and moved on, like it was nothing.” Your chest heaves, a stark contrast to the gentle quiver in your bottom lip. Your voice drops to something almost inaudible; it's the only way you can get through this while you're crying, the only way you can force the words through your tender throat, “Like I was nothing.”

Your cries turn into sobs when Stiles pulls you into his arms, and they wrack through your entire body when he kisses your hair and whispers sweet nonsense in your ear. You struggle for a moment longer, and then there's nothing left. You've given him everything. You sag into him, legs sinking with your full weight until he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you tighter to his chest. “I got scared,” Stiles whispers against the crown of your head when your cries peter into hiccups, and your next whimper shudders through your shoulders. He rests his palms against the small of your back and inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo, ducking his head down to kiss your forehead, “You were so far away, and so, so perfect, and I missed you all the fucking time.”

Stiles pauses, but it’s not for you. It’s a stall; you can feel his knee bounce and his fingers twitch. You wait, face buried in his collarbone, too busy trying to breathe to even think about speaking. After a moment, could’ve been seconds, could’ve been hours, he squeezes you—almost until it hurts, and it feels like he’s terrified that you’re just another one of the shadows on your bedroom walls. “I couldn’t ask you to transfer from Stanford to some fuckin’ state school in Virginia, so I fucked everything up ‘cause I guess...at least then it was my choice—and I know that just makes it worse. I know that. Because that means I chose to ruin it, I decided to hurt you…and I’m so fucking sorry. Just so unbelievably, life-ruiningly sorry.”

And there it is. The apology you’ve been waiting for, dreaming of, fantasizing about in every shower, in every cafe line, in every early morning class—and it’s just so…hollow. It sits between the two of you, heavy and horridly inadequate. “You found someone else,” you whimper into his shoulder, clasping at his t-shirt and wetting the white collar with your tears and runny nose—and you wish, more than anything, that this could be enough. “How could you find someone else that quickly?”

Stiles freezes, stops rubbing your back and rocking you from side-to-side, and it’s just jarring enough to remind yourself how dangerous it is to be in his arms. You step back and wrap your arms around yourself instead, and Stiles watches you with something hopeless all over his face. “I was just trying to prove that I didn’t make the biggest fucking mistake of my life,” he says, but he says it to his shoes. You wonder who he’s hiding from: himself or you. “Didn’t work, obviously.”

You just stare at him, arms limp by your sides, and shake your head a little. “What are you doing here, Stiles?” your voice is clotted with mucus and defeat, and it breaks halfway through along with your knees. You lean against the wall and close your lids so that you don’t have to see his eyes: so vast, so deep, so damn pretty—you’re suffocating in them. “What do you want from me?”

He’s relentless. Stiles steps forward, and there’s nowhere for you to go. “I want you.” And that’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s the rub. It’s always hunger, no sating. No happy ending. 

“Nothing’s changed.” You tilt your head and wring your fingers in the hem of your t-shirt, tugging every so often, “I’m still going back to Stanford, and you’re still going back east in the fall.” UPenn. Criminology, obviously. You never got the chance to congratulate him. 

“I know,” he’s right in front of you now, waiting for you to push him away. You don’t.

The back of your head hits the wall as you tip your chin up to look at him, “And I have Theo, and you have…her.”

“I know,” he braces his hands next to both sides of your head, watching your lips move without any shame, breath hot against your skin. 

“Stiles…” you plead with him through your lashes, asking for mercy, on hands and knees begging him to turn around and leave.

“Tell me you don’t want me.” Stiles rests his forehead against yours, “Tell me it’s over, and there’s nothing I can do to fix this.” 

“You already know,” you close your eyes and shake your head, nose rubbing against his, “you know I’d be lying.”

“You love me.” It’s not a question. He knows. He’ll always know.

You shake your head again, and Stiles can taste the salt on your lips, “Doesn’t matter.”

“I love you,” Stiles whispers, carding his fingers through your hair.

“Too late,” your lips brush against his, feather-light, and catch on the chapped center of his mouth.

He kisses you, cups your jaw like you’re ineffably precious, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in months. Stiles tilts his head a little, and his tongue is gentle in its prodding, almost sweet—but he grabs onto your hips like he wants to eat you alive. You just might let him, you think, when you feel his stubble scrape against your neck as he trails a balmy line of kisses towards your collarbone. 

You wind your fingers in his hair and tug to keep yourself on your feet. “We ca—ah,” he licks along your pulse, on purpose, and you shiver, “we can’t do this.”

Stiles hums against your cheek. “And yet, here I am, sliding my hands under your shirt, trying to cop a feel.” His fingers dip under your shirt. They’re cold on your bare stomach, and you flinch a little. Dizzyingly, you remember where you are, who you’re with, and who's going to text you in the morning to make sure you’re okay.

“We really can’t do this,” you whisper, slipping your hands from his hair to his arms. You pull them away gently and tip your head back from his persistent mouth, “I’m not going to hurt Theo the way you hurt me, and I’m not going to let you do this to someone else.”

“It’s not the same,” he says, words gravelly and thick. He turns away from you, paces the length of your room a few times and throws his hands around like he can change your mind if he gestures hard enough, “You know it’s not the same.” Stiles stops abruptly and shakes his head, seemingly at nothing—and then he’s back in front of you before you can catch your breath. He places his hands on your shoulders and then slides his palms to your biceps, just holding onto you. Not clutching, not squeezing, just a light touch that you can’t seem to break away from. 

“You’ve been my best friend for 15 years,” Stiles licks his bottom lip, and you watch him with wide eyes and a blitzing heart, “and I’ve loved you for well over half of ‘em—just plain wanted you even longer.” He slips his hand down your arm to your hand and tangles his fingers with yours, lifting them to rest over his skittering heartbeat, “You’re mine, and I’m yours. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it should be.”

You want to say it back, you do, but you just can’t. Not with all the unresolved details wriggling in your ear. “You brought her home, Stiles. You can’t just…just introduce her to your dad and cheat on her all in the same day.”

“Technically, cheat on and then dump,” he tries to smile, but it’s not convincing. Not with the guilt dimming his eyes.

“That’s not funny,” you snap, but the guilt is good. He wouldn’t be the man you know, the boy you grew up with, if he didn’t feel at least a little guilty about the whole thing.

“Dad’s out of town,” Stiles admits quietly, and for some reason, that means more to you than his apology, than his kisses, than his hand in yours. You didn’t realize how much the thought had been bothering you until now—destroying you one post at a time. “I only brought her because I knew you were going to be here with…him.” He shrugs a little, “Frankly, I think she knows. She aced behavioral science.”

You roll your eyes and huff, “You’re an asshole.”

“I know,” he concedes and kisses the back of your hand, continuing along the row of your knuckles, “but I’m in love with you, and it’s become abundantly clear that I always will be.”

Your bottom lip trembles with the desire to give in to what you want, but your hand twists away from him with what you know is right—even though it feels so horrendously wrong. “I can’t do this to him, Stiles. He’s been through so much, and he’s been so good to me, and he’s trying so hard to—”

“But you don’t love him!” Stiles hisses. It’s the loudest he’s been all night, but you don’t flinch from the volume. It’s the truth of it all, the vile honestly you can’t hide from that makes you recoil.

You look at the ceiling through your lashes, an old trick to fight the tears welling in your tear ducts. Some girl in middle school told you about it in the bathroom, and you try to remember her name and what cloying body spray she was spritzing instead of thinking about how easy it would be to let Stiles crawl into your bed and make you forget about everyone and everything that isn’t him. “I should,” you finally murmur throatily, biting on your lip, “maybe I could…someday.”

Stiles whips his head towards your face and takes a little, stumbling step backwards, “You don’t believe that.” You’re sure he wishes that he sounded more confident than he really is, but he wavers with the hand rubbing the back of his neck, “Say you don’t believe that.”

“You need to go, Stiles.” You clutch at your arm with your other hand and step back towards your bed, further away from him and the wet film over his eyes. “I’m serious this time. I need you to leave.”

He opens his mouth and then scrubs his arm over his face, wiping away the incriminating wet gleam on his cheeks with the sleeve of his flannel. “Okay,” his throat bobs with the strength of his swallow, “yeah, okay.”

You wait until he reaches your bedroom door to crawl onto your bed. You curl in on yourself like a child, press your face into your legs, your knees to your chest, your back against the headboard—but he pauses before you can really fall apart.

Stiles rests his hand against the doorframe and chews on his cheek, on his words, on the thought of you, and then he says, “I’m still breaking up with her. You don’t…you don’t owe me anything—that’s fucking putting it lightly, I know—but I’m still breaking up with her.” He lifts a shoulder and smiles, a little sad but so true, “There’s no one else for me. There’s never going to be anyone else…just thought you should know.”

He’s gone by the time you look up from your kneecaps. Good. You were this close to giving in. This close to throwing yourself off the edge for someone who’s dropped once before, and you’re still cleaning up the mess he left behind. You should be proud of yourself, happy that you weren’t weak enough to say yes, yes, a million, billion, trillion times yes.

But you aren’t, and you hate yourself for it.

[dorotheataylor]

Back to December

Pairing- Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

Summary- You broke up with him because you thought he deserved someone better than you. But here you stand, outside his door, apologising for that night, after realising you loved him too much to let him go. Based on Back to December (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift.

Warnings- angstttt but fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, no curses!au, swearing (maybe), slight ooc suguru (hes called clumsy hehe), probably my english lol.

Word count- 2.3k (excluding lyrics)

A/N- atp yall just know how much big of a swiftie I am lol. So here’s a new fic based on another taylor song haha. And from now on I will write for JJK fandom too coz i’m obsessed lmao. Let me know if you find any mistakes coz this isn’t proofread and hope y’all enjoy.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You knocked three times on the door of the house you knew all too well as you picked your nails.

Will he want to see you? Will he shout at you? Will he tell you to get lost? Whatever he does, you knew you deserved it.

You stood outside his door impatiently, nerves getting the best of you while you waited for him to open the door. You could hear things falling down from behind it.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was always the clumsy one. One of his things which you missed too much. Your eyes fell on thought of this. Oh how much you wished for a change in your mind back then.

You heard the lock of the door being undone and you started to freak out from inside. Was it a good idea to come here? Maybe. You were about to find out.

“Sorry for the delay. I was caught up-” You heard his voice quiet down when he saw you. God how much you missed his voice. You could listen to his voice every second of the day if possible.

You’ve been good, busier than ever

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in your presence on his doorstep, as if he was making sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

The way he said your name, ached your heart. Because it wasn’t filled with love or warmth as before, instead it was more like recognising a stranger.

You took a deep breath before speaking, “long time no see, Suguru.” You smiled slightly.

He couldn’t believe it. He never thought he’d ever see you again after that unfaithful night. The wishes he made to see you every night before he went to bed actually came true. He could actually hear your voice after whole six months. He felt like he was about to cry.

Your guard is up and I know why

All he wanted to do at this moment was to take you in his arms and never let you go again. But he knew he couldn’t. What if you were here to make things even more awful than they already were? He couldn’t handle another heartbreak. So he stood his ground and decided to talk to you in a civil way.

“Come inside. It’ll start s-snowing soon.” He said, mentally cursing himself for stammering as he stepped aside to let you in.

“Thank you.” You muttered before entering his house. The familiar feeling came back to you. The aura and memories of his house, where you had spent countless nights together crashed into your mind like ocean waves. It was overwhelming and you did your best not to burst into tears.

“I’ll bring you something to drink. You can make yourself comfortable till then.” You heard him speak as he quickly walked into the kitchen.

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You knew he was doing his best to avoid a more than casual conversation with you. Because the last time you had talked, things turned bitter.

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

You still remembered that day like the back of your hand. He had showed up at your house with roses to surprise you and take you out on a surprise date. And you, being a stupid person, ruined it all.

“Here. I didn’t have anything else except for hot chocolate plus I know how much you love it.” He said handing you the cup filled with hot chocolate, his voice becoming a soft mutter at the last part.

‘He still remembers my likes and dislikes.’ You thought as you smiled softly at him and took the cup, your hands brushing a little. Your cheeks immediately turn red as you tried to hide them, while Suguru thanked the gods that his red cheeks won’t be obvious because it’s winter.

I’d go back to December, turn around and make it all right

But you knew him. You were slightly relieved you still had some effects on him like before. How much you regretted leaving him like that. If only you could go back time and make things right.

You took a sip of your hot chocolate before speaking, “thanks for the hot chocolate, Suguru.”

Geto thought he’d just die right now. The way you said his name, it made him want to forget everything that happened and just hold you into his arms, never letting you go again. But he knew he couldn’t do that.

After some long moments of silence, you decided to break it and said, “how have you been, Suguru?”

“I’ve been- good.” He said with a pause in between. He was lying, but he didn’t want you to know his mental state ever since you had left. “What about you?”

You couldn’t repeat his answer for this question, because you knew it was far from the truth. You couldn’t quite recall the last time you slept peacefully. Maybe it was when you were in Suguru’s arms, safe and loved.

Staying up playing back myself leaving

Your mind replayed memories of that unfaithful night, as if trying to torture you for what you had done. It had started to hurt physically. How much you just wanted apologise and hold him into your arms. But you knew you had lost that right. Why? Because of your stupid insecurities.

You had been in a few relationships in the past apart from Geto. And you were always called out for every little thing you did. Whether it was from the way you ate, or the way you talked, they’d make sure to remind you that you weren’t enough and weird, until they all left you alone. This lead you to believe the same, that you were the problem.

That was until you met Suguru. He was everything you could ask in a man. He was charming, a true gentleman, kind and caring boyfriend who never failed to remind you how much you mean to him.

And I think about Summer, all the beautiful times

You often daydreamed about all your memories from your relationship, from sneaking out at night to late night car drives, from celebrating each other’s birthdays to forgetting plans you’d made with your other friends. Your relationship with him was something you read in books about.

You still remembered the day when you realised that he was the guy you were going to marry someday. You had overheard him talking to Gojo about you. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but when he mentioned your name, your ears had perked up. And the way be kept on talking about how amazing you were and how much he loved you, you knew he was the one for you.

Then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept right into my mind

But of course you had to ruin it all. The ‘what if’ thoughts came back to you. The thought of losing him because you weren’t good enough for him, scared you. You had told him about your past relationships, and he always reminded you that you are more than enough for him and he loves you with all of his heart.

Fuck your stupid negativity. You tried to believe him, you really did. But your mind wouldn’t let you. So it lead you to the one thing which you knew you were going to regret for the rest of your life. You let him go. And you hated yourself for it.

You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

You still remembered the way his face had immediately fallen the moment you spoke those words. He had tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. And you had slammed the door shut on his face.

Geto didn’t stop bombarding your phone with countless texts and missed calls for days. But you didn’t reply to any of them. Until one day he stopped. Maybe he realised that he was just wasting time being after you. Maybe he realised that you were the problem after all.

It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

Wishing I’d realised what I had when you were mine

You thought you had did the right thing but turns out, you didn’t. You had only made things worse for both of you. Because you know what they say, you only realise the value of something when its gone. And it turns out that you had loved him too much. You couldn’t let him go. Because you had realised that he was too precious for you to let go and you couldn’t survive without him.

So here you were, six months later, on his couch, drinking hot chocolate. You slowly came out of your thoughts and said the only thing which came into your mind, “I’m sorry.”

To say Geto was surprised was an understanding. He expected anything but an apology from you tonight. Blame him for being conscious and hurt. He didn’t say anything, giving the cue to continue.

“I’m so sorry, Suguru.” You started, trying your best not to sob, “I know this is probably the last thing you expect from me and won’t believe me but I mean it. I’m really sorry. I’m such a fucked up person, who always makes things worse, ruins perfectly going on lives of people, who always lives in self-doubts.”

“Y/N, I-”, Geto started to say something but you cut him off before he could say it.

“Please let me finish.” Geto nodded in response.

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me so right

And how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry

“I miss everything about you, about us. I miss how every morning you didn’t fail to wish me ‘good morning’, I miss how you never forgot to check up on me, I miss how you always found a way to make me feel special. I miss how you always held me close to you whenever I didn’t feel like myself. And most of all, I miss the way you used to love me.” You said, tears now falling uncontrollably from your eyes but you don’t care, determined to make things right.

I’d go back in time and change it but I can’t

So you continued, “thing is that I love you, Suguru Geto. And I love you too much to let you go. I made a stupid move by letting you go when all I wanted to do was hold you into my arms. And I hate myself for it. These past six months, I’ve been terrible. There’s not been a single day where I have not wished for myself to be somehow able to go back in time and make things right, stop myself from leaving. But I know I can’t.” You took a deep breath.

So if the chain is on your door I understand

“I know my actions are not something to be easily forgiven, but I promise to do anything to win your trust and love back. I’m willing to change. I’m willing to make things up with you. I swear that if you take me back again, I will love you right and never let you go. Because I have realised my life is nothing if you’re not in it. Please take me back, Suguru. I promise to prove myself worthy of your love.” You couldn’t speak anything after this, sobs continuously escaping your mouth.

Geto stood there, tears in his eyes as well, contemplating what to say. Your apology had caught him off guard, but he knew you had meant every word. He knew that his life was incomplete without you too.

But this is me swallowing my pride

You didn’t hear him speak for a good few minutes, so you take his silence as rejection. Of course he would reject you. You had hurt him, why would he want to get back with someone like you. You let out a shaky breath as a sigh, disappointment for you escaping through it as you stood up.

Standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night

You attempted to smile through your tears. If this was going to be the last time you see him, might as well say goodbye with a smile.

“I got your answer, Suguru. Thank you for giving me best moments of my life. Maybe I didn’t get to have you back, but at least I can live on with your memories. Maybe I-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt a pair of all too familiar lips on yours, shutting you up.

It turns our freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

You widened your eyes from surprise but immediately shut them as you kissed back, your hands reaching to hug his neck, bringing him closer to you. Suguru wrapped his one arm around your waist and other made its way in your nape, holding you just like he always used to.

Both of you could taste salty tears as you kissed, but weren’t sure who’s they were. All that mattered in that moment was the two of you. You poured all of your love, apprehensions, bottled up feelings for him, regrets into this kiss. He kissed you with same passion. As if your lips were the only thing he needed to survive.

Few moments later, Geto pulled away, foreheads still attached to yours, as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, in these six months, you made me realise that the only thing which can complete me whole is you. Not getting to tell you these was tearing me apart. I thought I had lost you for good, but then you showed up at my door and all those feelings I had for you doubled. I love all of you, Y/N and I always will. And I’m willing to give us another chance, just promise me that you will talk to me next time you have those negative thoughts.”

Your heart melted hearing his words as you nodded, “I promise.”

Suguru ran his hand through your hair as he spoke again, “and I-I’ll need some time to completely forgive you. I hope you understand that. I’m just scared that you’ll leave me again.”

You quickly shook your head, “I mean it this time, Suguru. I’d never even dream of leaving you. I just got you back. And it’s okay. Take your time. I’m willing to wait for you, even if it is for an eternity.”

Suguru smiled at your words and pulled you into his chest as he swayed you slowly, holding you tightly close to him, and you finally felt complete again. You kissed his neck as you returned his gesture, silently promising him and yourself to never give up on him and let him go ever again.

I’d go back to December all the time

________________________________________

Ahhh I loved writing angst sm but it always breaks my heart if it doesn’t end with fluff. Anyways hope y’all liked this and if you want, you can send in request for JJK characters too!

(I might’ve gotten a little carried away at the end but i think it was worth it lmao)

[maybege]

Big Dick Energy: The Sequel

Summary: An investigation takes you to a mall but it is Aaron Hotchner who takes you to a lingerie boutique.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, verbal degradation, (semi)public sex, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff

Rewatching Criminal Minds has reminded me of how much I actually thirst for Aaron Hotchner. Other than that, I have absolutely no excuse for this. Read, enjoy, and pretty please leave a comment and tell me what you thought because the possibilities with this dynamic are endless and I am very excited to share it with you! (Though I will need to think of a better title.)

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Looking for unsubs truly was a task that looked different every single time. Sometimes you had Penelope work her magic until you could pinpoint them, sometimes you were in direct contact due to a kidnapping situation. Other times you felt like you were playing spies on a big playground. Like right now.

The team had determined that the most likely spot for him to strike next was at a mall and with the entire sheriff’s office playing dress up, you were posing as unsuspecting shoppers on a calm Tuesday morning.

Hotch had decided you were all to split up into little groups. Reid and Prentiss had grabbed the bookshop as their assigned spot and you were sure Derek was somewhere. But before you could choose which area of the mall you wanted to call your domain, Hotch had instructed that you join him. Pretending to be a married couple. In a lingerie boutique.

For a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.

But sure enough, a few hours later, you and Hotch were browsing through the aisles of lace and tulle and mesh and the most delicate of undergarments you had ever looked at. And his presence did not make it any easier not to drift off into any daydreams.

You hadn’t really spoken after what happened on the plan and you weren’t sure if you were glad about it or not. It is like it had never happened. But it had happened. Because your jaw was still sore and you could still hear the way his voice dropped when he had hit the back of your throat. Or how gentle his fingers had been when it was all over. How he had taken care of you.

But by the time the plane had landed, he was back to his cool professional self and you were back to your pining, needy pile of infatuation you became when he was around you.

“I don’t think he is going to show up,” Emily’s voice sounded in your earpiece, “He would’ve hit by now. Maybe we should look at other possible targets before we waste too much time here?”

“I am sure pretty boy is holding his tongue about how time in a bookshop can never be wasted time,” Derek teased and you grinned. He was not wrong.

There was a hint of a smile on Hotch’s face and when his eyes met yours he looked much lighter than before. You watched him, waiting for his decision on the matter and he looked so damn calm, returning your gaze with so much ease. As if you did not affect him at all.

Which in turn made it all the more frustrating to feel your body react to him at the slightest stare. Your heartbeat started going faster, your breath heavier and everything felt so much more heightened when he was around.

How hopelessly did you want to crush on your boss? Your body’s answer, apparently, was a resounding: Yes.

But after the airplane incident, you had no more courage left. You had (kind of, if accidentally) initiated the first time with him. Now, you had to calm yourself with the thought that it was up to him to show you if he was interested.

A ringtone brought you out of your thoughts and you flinched. The young woman at the register picked up her cell phone, not even sparing another glance at you before she started off on what sounded like a very detailed retelling of her last weekend.

Hotch cleared his throat and your eyes fell on him, still waiting for his response to Prentiss’s suggestion.

“I agree,” he finally said, standing so close to you that it looked as if he was talking to you and you only, “We should regroup in a bit. I will see everyone at the office in two hours.”

“Sir, are you giving us a break?” not even the subpar sound quality of your earpiece could hide Garcia’s excitement.

“Yes,” he grinned at you, his hand reaching out and hovering over yours. Your breath caught in your heart because how could one man be so handsome? “I am giving you a break.”

The clicks of everyone disconnecting their microphone were only overshadowed by the sound of your heartbeat in your own ears. Hotch’s intense gaze was still on you and you could not shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.

“What’s your size?”

“What?”

“You have been staring at this piece for the better part of an hour,” he stated, “So I think you should try it on. And I think I should see you in it.”

Your mouth gaped open, not expecting such a blatant statement from your boss. Especially not one who was usually so tight-lipped on all things personal. You swallowed harshly, trying to find the right words that did not betray your eagerness but only ended up nodding at him.

You threw a look at the tags of the set he was holding, making an effort not to also stare at how big his hands were and subsequently wonder what his fingers would feel like inside of you.

Hoping he did not notice, you pressed your thighs together in an attempt to take care of the pulsing that was stronger than you would have liked it to be. But the way his gaze dropped let you know he certainly did notice. You swallowed again, “This, uh, this one should fit.��

Hotch nodded once, turning around while holding up the hanger.

“Excuse me, my wife would like to try –“

Before he had finished his sentence (you tried to ignore the strange skip your heart made when he had called you his wife), the cashier motioned somewhere to the back of the shop without even looking at you. Her phone was still pressed to her ear and her face was turned toward the glass front, probably observing the people milling about instead of the (in her mind) boring, business casual-wearing couple that tried to spice up their equally boring sex life.

If only she knew …

You followed the tall man to the little back room where a row of changing rooms was decorated with lush carpet and velvet drapery. If it did not look so plasticky cheap, you might’ve found it luxurious. Much like the showroom of the boutique, the rooms were completely abandoned and so quiet, the blaring mall music seemed even louder here.

Your eyes drifted to the corner of the curtained entrance.

“There are cameras here.”

“It’s not like we are going to do something inappropriate,” Hotch quipped as he strode to the end of the aisle, hanging the piece of lace into the last cubicle.

For some reason that disappointed you.

By the way he knowingly smirked at you, you knew that was exactly the kind of reaction he had wanted from you. And that gave you a little bit of hope.

You were still questioning what you were doing by the time you had reached him. Was this really happening? And what was this anyway? What was he planning?

Aaron tilted his head, his eyes mustering you up and down and just before you stepped inside, his hand landed on your shoulder. It was warm and heavy and you cursed yourself for how aware you were of him. How everything he did seemed to register in your brain as something of the utmost importance. Especially when he was touching you like it came naturally to him.

“You do not have to do this if you do not want to,” he said firmly, his eyes as serious as ever, “And if you ever want to stop, say Iceberg, understood? None of this will ever affect the way I see you at work.”

You nodded briefly, taking a moment to find your voice. “Understood … sir.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up and his hand smoothed from your shoulder to the very low of your back as you stepped into the small space. “Good girl, let me know when you are ready.”

Your pussy practically throbbed at his words but before you could do anything to embarrass you, he had left you alone, the curtain pulled between you.

When you were alone, you were highly aware that he could still hear you. Still, it afforded you a few precious moments to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that holy shit Aaron Hotchner wanted … something with you. And even if you were not sure what that specific something was, yet, you knew it would be more than worth it.

You rushed to get out of your silk dress and shoes, even going so far as to slip out of your underwear. If there was any time to be brazen it was now.

The piece Hotch had so rightly picked out was a mint green lacey two-piece with a kind of corset bra and high-waisted panties. It looked like the kind of thing one might see on a giant billboard or on a suggested Instagram post. It made you feel like you could have the kind of life where you surprised your (non-existent) boyfriend with some new lingerie or where said boyfriend would take you on a weekend trip to luxurious hotels with good food and even better sex.

Putting on the bra was easy enough but looking at that plastic sticker inside the bottoms made you hesitant. You really did not want to put them on without them having had at least one laundry cycle.

“You decent?”

Granted, he had given you enough time to get out of your clothes. But in your half-dressed predicament, you panicked and threw the panties back onto the hanger. There was no way you were going to try them on like this.

“Kinda,” you replied, feeling a little insecure but also figuring that whatever he wanted to do with you, you would not need panties for that anyway.

In the mirror, you could see the curtain moving and you turned around, facing him.

Aaron Hotchner was way too big in that little entrance of the small space. The dark colour of his suit bled into the dark velvet curtain and his hand looked way too big, the way he gripped that little piece of curtain. He was so close, you felt crowded but also like he was not close enough. Like you needed him closer still.

He did not say anything but just looked at you. His silence made you nervous and you shifted on your feet, crossing your arms in front of your chest and the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t.”

You let your arms fall again.

He remained silent but you watched as his dark eyes took you in. His mouth was in a straight line and you could spot the five-o’clock shadow setting in on his cheeks and jaw. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this. His brows were furrowed like he was displeased and for a moment you were afraid he was displeased by you. By your appearance.

Then he met your eyes.

“Do you have any idea how much self-control I invest every fucking day not to bend you over my desk and make you come seven ways till Sunday?”

Hearing him curse (You had made Aaron Hotchner curse, nobody was ever going to believe you.) was such a surprise, it took you a moment to register everything else he said.

“I – I am sorry?” you offered.

“Don’t be,” he murmured, taking a step towards you. The curtain fell closed behind him, leaving you two completely cut off from the world. “When I see you like this, it is more than worth it.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What happened on the plane …”

“… is definitely something I would like to repeat,” he finished your thought, “If that wasn’t clear before.”

“I – I didn’t think you noticed me like this,” you confessed.

“You’re a good profiler,” his finger brushed over your cheek and he tilted his head, “You really did not notice?”

With wide eyes, you shook your head.

He smirked, “Maybe because you were too busy hiding how needy you were.”

He leant forward, then, his breath ghosting over your face and you were sure you had never been more nervous. The scent of his cologne was in your nose, his neck was so close, all you wanted to do was to reach out and loosen his tie.

And so you did.

“I don’t think I was that needy,” you tried to protest before pressing a kiss to his jaw. The stubble scratched your lips but that only added to the excitement in you. A low rumbling sound came from his chest and you gasped in surprise when he pulled you back, keeping his hand on the back of your neck so you had to look up at him.

His mouth brushed yours in a half-kiss and you could see a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I’d like to think there were some obvious signs.”

He let his fingers wander down your cheek to your neck before they ghosted over the lace of the bra. Your nipples pebbled at his attention, the lace just adding to the pleasant sensation, and his mouth quirked up in that half-smile again. “Like when I could see your nipples get hard when I was with you in that elevator.”

“That – that was one time,” you protested weakly, arching your back so he could touch you more.

He hummed, “Maybe. But all I wanted to do was this.” His thumb brushed over your nipple again and again until all you could do was squirm against him, trying not to beg him to finally fuck you.

But even in your precarious situation, Aaron Hotchner did not make the impression of a hurried man. His eyes flicked from your chest to your face, completely mesmerized by the reaction he got out of you. And you could tell he liked it when he rolled your nipples between his fingers and your knees buckled when he pulled on them.

“Not to mention that time you sucked my cock on a plane,” he reminded you in a low voice and you could feel the heat rise into your cheeks, both from arousal and embarrassment, “I have dreamed of all the things I could do to you. Have you warm my cock in the office, suck my cock under the desk, hell, maybe keep you in bed all weekend long and make you come until you can only say my name …”

There was a very prominent bulge pressed against your hips, confirming these fantasies turned him on just as much as you and that only fuelled your fire. You let your head fall back, your eyes closed as you tried to imagine yourself just as he had described. Sitting in his lap in his office, feeling him inside you while he worked? That sounded like a dream.

Using the exposure of your skin, Hotch dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing and licking and sucking and just making you feel oh so good. It was so easy to just wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer to him.

When he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, you gasped out a moan, immediately trying to cut the sound off for fear of the chatty cashier hearing you.

His hands continued their exploration of your body and landed on your ass, effectively grinding you against his cock. Your core pulsed, everything in your body thrumming with desire. You knew how big he was, you knew what he looked like and how heavy he was. The sheer idea of feeling him inside you made you feel absolutely shameless.

Which meant there was still one thing you needed to address before there was no going back.

“There are still cameras here,” you whispered against him, panting when he rolled his hips against yours again. Gosh, he was big.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, just as quietly, and without hesitation, you nodded.

“Then I will take care of it.”

And that was all he needed to say.

Feeling encouraged, you let your hands wander and cupped him through the front of his pants. You could feel the weight and the size of him and a new wave of wetness rushed down your thighs.

Hotch groaned low in your ear, a sound that was even better when he made it just for you. His hand landed on yours, making you massage him through his clothes.

“You were so good for me on the plane,” he murmured in your ear, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass, “Felt like a dream come true having you on your knees for me.”

You did not say anything. Both because you could not say anything and because you wanted to hear what he had to say. Hotch was always such a closed-off person, to hear him speak to you so tenderly and so openly … It made you feel like you needed to keep it close to your chest and cherish it.

“Always had the suspicion there was something bubbling under the surface of the good girl you were pretending to be,” he continued kissing his way down your neck until you could feel his teeth tugging on the bra strap. “But there is nothing quite like finding out you were a good girl all along … but only for me.”

He straightened up to his full height. You had always been impressed by how big of a man he really was (and how good he looked in a suit) but now it seemed even more intense.

Because Aaron Hotchner’s dark eyes were staring right into your soul when he asked, “And you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

And then he kissed you.

It was passionate and hard and he dominated the kiss so easily, it just made you melt into him even more. His lips were soft and a contrast to the stubble you could feel on his chin. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then, and you gasped, following him until he let it fall away.

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your neck, “Now put your hands against the wall so I can inspect that little pussy. I bet you’re already wet for me, hm?”

Never in your life had you moved so fast.

And he was right, f course. When his fingers rubbed over your cunt, you were embarrassingly wet already. But you could not care less. Not when you were about to be fucked by the one man you had been pining after for months.

You squeaked when a spank landed on your ass, “I’m gonna buy this and so much more just to see you wear it,” he growled, his fingers rubbing over your folds, seeking out your clit, “Just to fuck you in it.”

“Will you fuck me now?”

“That depends,” he murmured, pushing a single finger inside you, “Can you be quiet for me?”

You bit your lip so hard, you were half-expecting to have drops of blood running down your chin. The truth was you did not know but you knew you could try for him. You would try everything for him.

Your eager nod was rewarded with a kiss to your shoulder blade and his fingers went back to circling your clit before dipping inside you again. He hummed, clearly pleased at that and you arched into him, wanting to feel more of him.

The man behind your continued playing with you for what felt like an eternity. Your inner thighs were smeared with your slick, you were sure, and when he pressed his crotch against your ass, you could feel his hard-on distinctly.

“Fuck,” he hissed, adding a second finger as he thrust inside you, “Can you feel how your little pussy is gripping me? It is so so empty without someone filling it, isn’t it?”

“Feels so good, sir,” you whimpered, “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, stopping is the last thing I am going to do,” he chuckled, his lips brushing over your lobe, “Don’t worry, I am going to take care of you. After all, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t take care of my little whore?”

His words echoed in your mind and settled in your core. He did not say it like an insult, he said it like an endearment. Like he was praising you. And you craved it. You wanted him to call you his, you wanted him to call you anything he wanted to as long as you would be his good girl. Because you know, you just knew, he would reward you for it.

“You really just need an older man to make you come on his cock, huh?” he asked you, his cold belt buckle digging into your ass. His fingers pulled out of you and you pushed your hips back, trying to keep him inside you for as long as you could, the loss of his touch making you whimper.

But then you could feel him undoing his zipper and the anticipation built in your core.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, pushing out your ass, “’m your whore, sir.”

Your walls squeezed around nothing and, then, finally, you could feel his hand on your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart.

“Deep breath, it’s gonna be a big stretch,” he warned you, rubbing the tip of his cock over your folds. The tingling sensation spread from your core all throughout your body until you could feel it in the tips of your fingers.

Said deep breath get caught in your throat when he pushed inside you.

Hotch was big. You had known that already. But there was a difference between feeling him make your jaw go sore and feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him. He went with slow, small thrusts at first. The kind that allowed you to get used to his size and the kind that made you want him to go deeper and faster and just –

“More,” you did not recognize your own voice, “Please, sir, more.”

“You’re greedy,” he replied smoothly, his hands gripping your hips, “Begging for more as if it isn’t enough having your boss fuck you in public.”

You tried to hold back the whimper but did not quite succeed. But it was sheer impossible to remain quiet when he thrust inside you with control and such precision it made your toes curl. He was large and hit a spot you had not even known existed.

It was even better than you imagined. And you had imagined it a lot …

“C’mon smile into the camera for me,” he angled your head up, face to face with the lens of the camera in the corner. Your adrenaline spiked and despite wanting to pretend like it did not turn you on that someone could just see you absolutely getting wrecked, you could not control the way your walls clenched around him.

“Thought as much,” Hotch rumbled behind you, one hand coming around to your front and finding your clit again, “Got myself the perfect little cock slut.”

“’m gonna come,” you gasped when he tapped your clit, “Sir, please, I –“

“Please what?” he mocked you, his hips snapping against yours, “Don’t forget your manners or I’ll have to punish you.”

The thought of him punishing you almost pushed you over the edge but Aaron Hotchner was right. You were a good girl …

“Please, sir,” you gasped, “Please let me come. PleasepleasepleaseIwannacome –”

He quickened his pace, his cock driving into you again and again while his fingers circled your clit. His lips pressed against the spot under your ear and you pushed back against him, trying to meet his thrusts, trying to get closer to him.

“You can come,” he whispered, his big hand coming up to cup your jaw, “You can come on my cock, right now.”

“You too,” you gasped, trying everything to hold on to that feeling that was just out of reach, just beyond that cliff that you were hurling towards, “You come, too, sir, please, in-inside me.”

“Fuck,” he cursed behind you, his hips stuttering, “You really want that? Want me to fill you up with my come? Think that would tide you over for a while until I can have you sitting on my cock again?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, your fingertips flexing against the wall, barely listening to a word he was saying because it only took a couple more thrusts until you came around him.

Hotch swallowed your moan with a kiss and you gripped onto his forearms, anything to keep you standing and somewhat lucid. Everything was a blur and your body felt like it was convulsing and relaxing at the same time. You had never come so hard in your life, you hardly even noticed when he groaned into your ear, his hips stilling against yours as he filled you up. Just like he had promised.

Your heart beat so fast in your chest, you could hear it in your ears and you were pretty sure Hotch could hear it too. But he did not comment on it. Instead, his hand went from your jaw to your chest, softly grazing over the green lace.

“Good fucking girl,” he rumbled, “Knew you would be such a good girl for me and only me.”

Hotch kissed you again, softer this time, and you allowed yourself to properly breathe. “You okay?” he asked you quietly, his hands smoothing over your hips, “Was I too rough?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just … it’s a lot,” you whispered, closing your eyes to try and slow your breathing, “And – and we need to be back at the station soon.”

“That we do,” he agreed and carefully pulled out of you. You winced at the sensation, feeling his come dripping down your thighs almost immediately. Before you could even worry about leaving any evidence on the carpet, you heard some rustling and then a soft handkerchief was at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up.

You turned your head, finding Hotch kneeling behind you with that furrow between his brows again.

“You look angry a lot.”

You did not know where your words had come from but hell, you might as well run with it now.

The dark-haired man looked up at you, looking unusually amused. “I suppose it might look like that to some.”

When he pulled away and you felt somewhat taken care of, you turned around and grabbed your clothes. Hotch remained standing there with you, his

“Then what is it, really?” you asked him as you slipped your dress over your head. The fabric covered your vision and when you could see again, Aaron was standing again, looking at you with a genuine smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

Damn him for being so handsome.

“I am focused,” he replied, his hand landing on your hip to support you as you slipped back into your shoes. Your hand landed on his forearm, his hand gripping your elbow, keeping you steady.

“Focused on what?”

“On you.”

Your hand froze on his arm. “Oh.”

Suddenly, he was closer again. Standing chest to chest, you could not help but look at his mouth because it was right there and his lips looked so soft and what if this was the moment? What if you could kiss him again and –

“Yeah,” he echoed, his nose brushing against yours, “Oh.”

His mouth ghosted over yours and you closed the distance, kissing him just as softly as he had done before. He did not wait to reciprocate and with his hand still under your elbow, he pulled you flush against him.

He opened his mouth but in a cruel twist of fate, his phone rang and he pulled away. An annoyed exhale left him and you could feel the disappointment when he picked it up. “What’s up Morgan?” he asked, his eyes still on you. his thumb brushed back and forth on your hip and you smiled, feeling elated and excited and so … so …

“Yeah, we’re on our way,” he said sharply, “I thought of getting us some lunch. Have the others text me their order and I will pick it up.”

And with that, he ended the call.

“Picking up lunch, huh?” you teased him, “How very generous of you, Agent Hotchner.”

“What can I say,” he smiled, opening the curtain for you, “I am in an exceptionally good mood today.”

*

When you returned to the main room of the boutique, the woman was still talking on the phone, not paying any mind to you. Relief filled you at the realization that she really had not noticed. Thank goodness because while it was the experience of a lifetime, you would have surely died of embarrassment.

Hotch’s hand burned at the low of your back but this time it did not cause any anxiety. This time it felt like both of you knew it belonged there.

He led you to the register, the woman only interrupting her conversation long enough to glance at both of you, looking very unimpressed.

“My name is Agent Hotchner, FBI,” he said, showing his badge, “We are on an active investigation. I am afraid I need to confiscate your security footage from the last 12 hours.”

“Also,” he added, putting the two-piece on the counter, “We would like to purchase this.”

[according2thelore]

do you think that mary tries to mother sam in the depths of s12, when lucifer is possessing his childhood rockstar and fucking with sam every chance he gets, when sam is still trying to recover from the british interrogation and hallucinating a-fucking-gain? do you think dean gets jealous and isn’t sure of who? sammy giving mary that little-boy smile and mary pets his hair and dean is just like no no Mine!

BETH I AM KISSING YOU RN

LETS TALK MOTHERS!!!!!!!!!!! OH I AM SO EXCITED TO TALK MOTHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a lot of the mary content we get in s12 is very dean-forward (which i can understand, because he was the only one who had even a little bit of a relationship with pre-her death), but i think about how she tries to mother sam a LOT!

a lot of mary's last memories of sammy were of him waking up in the middle of the night screaming his head off, or laughing and flapping his hands in the baby chair outside while dean tries to blow bubbles. i know collectively we've all kinda talked about this, but how freaky is it to see a baby, then be told the next day that this man older than you is that baby!!!

a lot of her bonding is weird and awkward and stilted. she cuts the crusts off of a sandwich she makes for dean one day, completely on autopilot, and dean freezes when he sees it.

i'm sure a lot of her comfort is very tactile, because she hasn't really had time to get used to comforting adults. she has very little--if any at all--experience comforting/connecting with adults.

given her childhood, her exposure to/relationships with other people and adults was extremely limited. her dad was very much a stiff-upper-lip kind of guy, and john dealt with his emotions/worry/frustrations (as we see in the flashbacks with him interacting with mary) with knee-jerk anger (which we later see dean doing as well with her). so i'm sure a lot of her comfort for dean is the same way she used to talk with john, a la "it [their marriage] wasn't perfect until she died."

but sam? he's a bleeding heart. he flinches when dean yells and shows up at her door after a fight with dean to make sure that she's okay (but not too much, not enough to break their united front; when mary complains about dean, sam responds noncommittally and excuse-laden, that's how he is, you know saying XYZ makes him mad). he pours the extra cup of coffee when dean refuses to, and cuts off the crusts of her sandwich one afternoon to make her laugh.

all that to say, the last time mary wanted to comfort sam, she'd kissed his little bald forehead. she'd put two of her fingers into his tiny, sticky fist, and wiggled his arms around. she'd bounced him. she'd shooed dean away, because dean had come in to watch sam cry, confused and upset and asking is he okay mommy let me look at him is he okay is he okay is he sad?

comfort with sam has always been tactile.

so now that she's back, and sam is upset, she gives him a hug. sam kind of wilts when she does, going tense and confused at first before wrapping his (frankly, terrifyingly large) arms around her.

after all the shit that goes down in s12, mary gets in the habit of checking in with him. she'll put a hand on his shoulder when he stares at the corner for too long, eyes dark and far away. she'll make sure to turn the radio up on the '70s radio channel she has on while sharpening the knives because sam is flinching as something invisible is clearly yelling at him.

she brings him an extra cup of coffee. she goes on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. she puts a hand on his head as she passes him to go to bed. she pokes his hand to shake him out of a reverie. she grabs his arm to get his attention.

and--of course--this brushes up against dean.

she brings sam another cup of coffee to find a mug already steaming next to him, a sticky note in dean's cramped scrawl that says "go to bed, asshole" peeling off of the side. she stands up to go break sam's fifty-yard stare at the chair across from him, but dean is already sliding into the chair, talking like he had been sitting there the whole time and they were in the middle of a conversation.

she pats sam on the shoulder after he finds a lead on the case, and his shoulder ticks up because dean had just slapped down on his other shoulder at the same time.

and dean is just fucking burning. he's so fucking confused, and angry, and hurt.

but mostly, he's humiliated to find out, he's jealous.

sam tilts into the kiss mary drops on the top of his head. he turns his hand over on the table so she can give it a squeeze. he puts a hand on her back to move her out of his way in the kitchen.

dean figures it's kind of pathetic to want to be mothered like that at thirty-eight years old, especially after all the shit they've been through.

but, when he walks in and finds sam sunk into one of mary's hugs, he wants to pry her off. he wants to go over and ask sam what happened, why it looks like he's been crying, what she did.

he's not jealous of sam.

he's jealous of mary.

she can hug him whenever she wants, and sam sinks into it like it's a bed every time, shaking and happy and calm. mary drops kisses on his cheek like it's nothing.

he starts to seek her out to ask questions, first. before he goes to dean. whenever they have dinner, he serves her her food first. he starts deferring to her on things. they're at a restaurant, and he pulls her chair out for her. he calls her "mom," with a smile and a laugh and crinkly eyes.

she puts toast in front of him with butter--and sam fucking hates putting butter on his toast right out of the toaster, why doesn't she know that, it makes the bread soggy, dean almost reaches across and slaps it off the table--and he smiles and says, "thanks mom" with a huge fucking smile and dean is filled with so much rage and longing and hurt that he stands up and has to take a fucking lap.

it's automatic, immediate deference. it's idolization that kids have for their mothers. that a five-year-old sam had for dean.

she doesn't even know how to be his mom. she doesn't know that sammy used to nosebleeds every fall, and dean had sit next to him as he leaned over boiling water, because they didn't have a humidifier. she doesn't know that sam likes his coffee with a very specific amount of creamer. dean spent years getting it perfect, better than sam makes it, to the point that sam will ask dean to make it if he's feeling really tired.

she didn't sit with sam when sam could only speak enochian for hours, garbling and hissing and spitting, then later shoving dean off of him, whispering in broken english i've been good, i've been good, you promised you wouldn't bring dean back if i was good.

she doesn't know a thing about being sam's mom. she shouldn't get to reap the rewards that--dean is starting to realize--he wants.

he wants to be allowed to kiss sam on the cheek or the forehead and it not mean anything. he wants his touch to be expected, to be anticipated, to be routine. he wants sam to tilt his face to the side to make it easier to reach, to sit up straighter when dean leaves a room to make his hair closer to his hand.

sammy looks up at her with a smile that looks like apple juice and missing teeth and boxes of flintstone bandaids that dean stole in hoodie pockets and pillow forts made on motel beds.

and she puts a hand through his hair and dean is fucking howling with rage, burning up from the inside out, fire tunneling up his spine.

mine. it's mine, he's mine. his childhood was mine, his skinned knees were mine, his sunburned cheeks were mine, his sleepless nights were mine. his fears are mine, his smiles are mine, his respect is mine.

and i'm his blanket, his calf to put cold feet under, the bed he would climb into after nightmares, the mouth that blew on his skinned palms, the bowl of warm soup when he was sick, the one screaming at his soccer games.

i'm his mom.

~~~

i can literally talk about this forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and [the limit does not exist]

it is no secret i love getting asks about these two losers

i'm sorry for the late response, work has been killer recently, but know that i opened our tumblr and lovingly stared at this ask! i hope you're doing well <3 i love when i see your name on our dash!

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK <3333

-lizzy

[seat-safety-switch]

Now that nearly every bit of human social interaction takes place on privately-owned chat platforms, all of our problems have been solved. And by "all," I mean "a negative number." Turns out that some robots have been watching us talk all this time, and started stealing the words right out of our virtual mouths.

Nobody knows who sent the robots. A lot of folks in my local group think that it was government spies, trying to scoop up all of our poor-quality jokes and puns to use them against us at a later date. Others are just waiting to see those same poor-quality jokes show up on a sitcom about Midwestern families addicted to bad cars.

Either way, one thing had to be done first. We kicked the robots out. Sent each of 'em packing with a different disturbing profanity for their creators. Or we thought we did. See, while we all can acknowledge that some of the obvious robots are now gone, we're not sure when they started showing up. Any of the "people" I routinely talk to, like Untoward Carl or Michelle Turbo-Relational-Model 9500, could also have been robots this entire time. We've started rolling out Voight-Kampff tests, as is industry standard, but so far everyone just posts GIFs of cartoon turtles dancing before continuing the discussion of whether the Dodge Aspen is in fact superior to the Plymouth Volare (no.)

Sometimes, late at night, I start to wonder if I am one of the robots, too. Sounds preposterous, but think about it for yourself. I can't conclusively prove that any point of my existence actually happened, or if it was just the elaborate hallucination of a computer that was taught to feel pain by Silicon Valley engineers. Once in awhile, on the train, I feel the urge to tell my fellow riders about the excitement of purchasing DoritoCoins® from Taco Bell, because they're a great investment. Hold on, the train? We don't have a train in my city.

[chronicbeans]

Human Illustrator Wally x Reader (part 5)

Circle time! Yippee!

TW: Mentions of Hallucinations

🐻 You can't help but grin as you watch Mr. Darling sitting with all of the children, talking about the most random of things. From bears to apples, the conversation flings itself from topic to topic. When Mr. Darling starts to take out random items he has brought for the children to play with, it almost feels like watching Mary Poppins. His little bag of items seems to fit an endless amount of luggage.

🐻 He looks around, being sure to make sure everyone understands what he says. He is careful to assure every child's needs are met. It might've taken a lot of planning to get him here, but it was all worth it. The kids are happy and feel cared for. You are happy to have finally found someone else with a passion for making every child feel appreciated. Mr. Darling seems happy to make others feel happy.

🐻You watch as he talks to Amelia, one of the numerous children circled around him, before he lets her touch his hair. You chuckle at her shocked reaction, hearing her say something along the lines of "It's like a shell!", with Mr. Darling saying "It's from the stuff I use to style it. I need my hair to look the absolute most!"

🐻 You turn your attention away for a moment, noticing that one of the kids is sitting alone at the table, simply watching the others. It's James, the kid that you were talking to Howdy about the other day. As in, the one who had the head injury. You sit next to him, smiling "Is there something you need?"

🐻 James looks up to you, before whispering "I... I want to talk to Wally... but I feel like he'll think I'm weird. Umm... I am also worried for him. The scary monster is behind him." You smile, nodding. "The scary monster won't hurt Mr. Darling. How about I go ask him if you can talk to him outside, in the play area? That way, he will be away from the scary monster, and you get to talk with him. I am sure he won't think of you as weird." "Only if you go with." "Alright. I'll go ask him now."

🐻 You stand up, grinning as you approach the group of children. "Mr. Darling? Can you come over here for a moment?" "Sure thing! Just a moment!" He picks up Amelia, who giggles and waves her arms, then stands up. The kids watch as he leaves, only for him to turn around and say "Oh! Just in case I take long, you can go through my bag. I didn't bring anything important. It's just stuff I brought for you all to play with. Be sure to share, though!" Needless to say, the kids swarmed to his bag like birds to breadcrumbs.

🐻 He turns back around, walking over to you as he asks "What is it? Do you need something?" You nod, bringing him over to James. "Yep! Mr. Darling, this is James. He wants to talk to you, but feels a bit anxious to do so. We both were wondering if it would be alright if the three of us went to the play area out back to talk privately." He grins, clasping his hands together as he says "Of course! That will be no problem at all! Just lead the way, (Y/N)!"

🐻 The three of you all walk to the play area in the backyard of the daycare, James looking behind you all from time to time. The play area is small, with a little playhouse, a sandbox, and a swing set connected to a slide. Once outside, Mr. Darling crouches down to his height, shaking his hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, James! Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?" James nods.

🐻"Yeah... umm... I was wondering, do you umm... Are you like me? I mean... I am a bit nervous to ask." James looks down, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. Mr. Darling smiles, tilting his head. "It is alright. Take your time. How about this? I'll ask you some questions to ease you into your own! Did anything particular make you curious if I have anything in common with you?" James nods "Yeah. I saw how you and Aubrey related in being autistic. As well as how you and a few of the others talked about loving art."

🐻 James looks around, which Mr. Darling seems to notice. He begins to look around, too. He then smiles, as if catching on. "Okay, I'll ask another question, since you don't seem to be ready, yet. Do you like to draw?" James, once again, nods. This time, it is much more enthusiastic. He reaches into the pocket of his shorts, pulling out a tiny notepad. "Yeah! Let me show you some! It isn't anything close to what you can do, but I hope to get that good someday!" James shows the notepad to him, revealing drawings of cute bears, rainbow swirls, and dark monsters. Mr. Darling nods, staring at the images as he says "This is amazing work! Believe it or not, but when I was your age, I had this exact amount of skill. I believe you and I have more in common than you think."

🐻 James' eyes gleam, before he then looks down to his feet. "Hey, Wally...? Umm... do you see the odd things others don't? Or hear things others don't?"

🐻 You watch them both closely. Mr. Darling seems to think over his answer, before finally coming up with one. "Yes, I do. I mostly hear odd things, but I do see them, sometimes. Is that what you wanted to ask about?" James looks up to him, nodding. "Yeah... can I... can I ask some more?" "Of course. Anything you want." "Do you see the shadow man? The mean guy that says mean things? I believe he is quite mean. Have you met him?"

🐻 To your shock, Mr. Darling's smile falters for a brief second. It returns as soon as it left, however, before he hands James his notepad. "I don't see the shadow man very often. I do, however, have a pesky neighbor of my own. Do you want to know who it is?" James hesitates, before responding "Yeah. I feel like it might help you to talk about that mean neighbor."

🐻 Mr. Darling leans in, speaking very quietly to James. You still hear what he says, though, you are not sure if you were meant to. "The walls of my very own home say mean things to me, sometimes."

[engeorged]

Aster's Maze

Follow up to Obi's Place and Santa’s Otto

Art by @badoobers

Words by @engeorged

I know it’s been over a year since I posted, but it’s been quite a journey for me. One I’m not even sure if I’m ready to talk about. The encounter with Obi changed me somehow and I’m not the same person I was. I can’t quite seem to settle anywhere for very long any more. I feel restless, and to be blunt, like I’m not quite fully present wherever I am.  My mind is always in a different place?

Let me go right back. By now, you’ve probably read about my encounter at Obi’s place. I’m not gonna lie, I was a wreck for a few days. It was like a hangover meets a sausage casing? The amount of food he’d packed in me took days to digest. I was swollen for 72 hours, not really able to do anything but sleep and go to the toilet. (I’ll spare you the details although I’m aware a few of you out there will want them you dirty bastards!!) I didn’t check my messages the whole time but after my last post, a lot of you had reached out to me. Turns out there’s quite a few of these guys around and they don’t fuck about! The pictures you all sent me were quite eye opening! (That's maybe for another post!)

The whole thing felt like a dream, but on reflection I realised it was a pretty good dream. I hate to admit it, but being able to eat that much food was quite a turn on. I tried for months to find him again and ask what he did to me. I’ve not been able to repeat it by myself, and trust me, I’ve tried. I can’t really even eat half of what he put into me. Every few weeks I would sit down in a restaurant or a buffet place and just block the afternoon out and eat as much as I could to see what would happen. Now I’m a big guy (and getting bigger!) and I could probably out eat most people if it came down to it but there’s just no way I can get as full as I did that morning. My belly is definitely increasing in size and capacity but still, without whatever magic he was using I can’t do it again. 

To cut a long story short, I ended up travelling. The few stories you sent me (that weren’t totally nuts) were fascinating, but from all over the world. I’ve been searching for trolls in Norway, piscies in the UK, dragons in china, tikoloshes in Africa. Nothing! Not a single bite. I was starting to believe that maybe it was a hallucination from being so over tired. Maybe the stripes on the road had hypnotised me as I drove or something. 

I’m currently living in Greece for a bit. I’ve pretty much run out and so I found a casual labour job on a building site in Greece. It’s a bit of a shit show to be honest,  but all I have to do is turn up and lay bricks for a few hours in the afternoon and I get paid! The extra bit of timber I’d put on means I break a sweat the second I get up, as even though it’s early autumn, here it’s still 24 degrees by midday! 

It was coming up to lunch time on the site when I started feeling a bit faint. I realised I’d not had anything to drink for a few hours and I was super dehydrated. I grabbed my water bottle and when lifted to my lips, only a few drips came out, so I had a scan of the area and saw a guy with a cart selling gyros and beers. Usually the street food was pretty good around here so I headed over, still wearing my tight high viz vest. As I got close to the stand I started to realise how hot the guy was selling them, now I’m newly ‘out’ and so I don’t still fully know what my type is but I can tell you reader, this guy was everyone’s type. He was stacked, his arms were like ripe watermelons and as I got close I realised how huge he was. I’ve told you I’m 6’5, but this guy towered over me. He must have been 7 feet easily. His hair was everywhere and he had this crazy medallion around his neck with a symbol on it I recognised from somewhere. 

Now, I know my story has ended up on some niche websites and blogs, so I know what you pervs are all waiting for. So here it is. His gut was potentially the hottest thing I have ever seen. It was huge. He was so tall it was practically oval. Firm and round and pushing against the buttons in his shirt. It was like he wasn’t even tempted to hide it. In fact, as I approached, he lifted his arms above his head to stretch which meant that there was a good three or four inches of furry dome poking out from underneath. He looked as stuffed as I was at Obi’s. As I got nearer I started to regret my decision to go over. I must have looked like an absolute state. I was wearing my battered work jeans and fluorescent jacket, covered in brick dust and sweat and I absolutely stank. A 280 lbs slab of man like me working in 30 degree heat is a recipe for funk, and I was dripping with it. He looked up and saw me so there was no going back, I committed and walked up trying to look cool. Something about him made me want to melt into a puddle. I said ‘Yasass’ in my best Greek accent and he replied with a bass filled ‘Hello, how can I help you’ in perfect English. His accent was vaguely British with a hint of Greek overlayed. The rumble of his voice made something shift inside me. I think I was in love. 

I ordered two beers and paid him. Lifting it to my lips, thirst took over and downed one on the spot. I didn’t really want to leave, I wanted to try and get his number or something. I downed the second beer and I could see it must have impressed him as he leant forward in his cart and offered me another. I ordered two and offered him one which he took. We stood chatting about the weather and what I was up to and as we chatted he started putting together a huge gyro full of amazing smelling meat. There was a hint of salad at the bottom but the thing was packed as tight as his shirt. He wrapped it up with his strong hands and offered it to me. I took it immediately and took a big bite, within minutes the thing had gone. It was the best tasting thing I’d ever had. When I finished I realised he’d just been watching me eat it, not saying anything. His dark eyes focussed on me making me feel very seen. He had very keen eyes that looked deep into my soul. (I know how pretentious that sounds, don't worry, but you’ll see I’m right in a minute!)

I jokingly said I could eat another one and before I’d finished my sentence he had one there in his large paw! I won’t bore you with the details because there will be a lot more later but suffice to say I ate 3 of his huge gyros. I was substantially full, my own belly was beginning to push out against my work clothes and I’m pretty sure I lost a button  I offered to pay but he wouldn’t take it. He just said he’d see me again. I went back to work on the site very full and very horny!

I stopped by for lunch every day for the next week and a half. In the evenings I discovered he owned a small but very cool restaurant bar selling the same food but with the addition of a whole selection of spirits and cocktails. It was a full two weeks before I plucked up the courage to ask him out. There was just something about him that drew me in. Reflecting back I don’t know if we actually spoke about much. Even now I know very little about him. All I remember is his huge belly, round and tight, every day staring at me. Perfection in a fursuit. I remember that he had a few piercings. The medallion round his neck had chains coming off it connecting to nipple piercings. He also had a heavy gold nose ring, which, if I wasn’t thinking with my dick, might have been a bit of a clue. I was looking out for whatever Obi was, not whatever he was. And is, I guess? 

On reflection, and with what I know now, he was strategically increasing my already substantial belly capacity for the game. (More on that later) Every meal, he would give me a little bit more food. A bag of stuffed vine leaves here, some baklava there, extra meat in the wrap, a special sauce, larger wraps. Before I knew it I was eating 6 of his gyros twice a day with whatever accompaniments he palmed off on me that day. Every evening I would spend bloated and swollen, nursing my aching stomach whilst thinking of Aster. (Oh I forgot, one thing I did get out of him was his name) I guess I should add that I didn’t twig what was happening in case that’s not obvious. I was bewitched by everything about him to the point where I didn’t realise he was testing me out for something much bigger. 

A few weeks in I had a penny drop moment, I’d just finished my 6th evening gyro and he was making me one more to finish me off. My belly was huge, packed with the supply of food he’d been encouraging me to eat. I was wearing a now painted-on shirt and I was standing in the street at 5pm obediently stuffing myself silly with his street food. I’d gone past full a few gyros ago and it was now simply pushing and stretching my stomach more and more. The feeling of the stretch (as some of you probably know) is exquisite. I’d experienced it fully with Obi and I’d been chasing that feeling all over the world to get to that place of total engorged capacity and it dawned on me suddenly I was there again. Something about that day made me realise I'd met another one of these creatures. Aster wasn’t human. 

I swallowed down my last bite and took the next one from his massive hairy hand. I looked at him properly for maybe the first time. Looking past my own lust and attraction and I saw that he wasn’t quite ‘right’. His hair was shaped in such a way that hair didn’t really grow. His side burns were much more than a side beard and that ring in his nose was huge because his nose was so large and flat. And his belly! No human belly would ever be that size and rounded shape when it was that big. It would be sagging down over his belt, not sitting proudly on top of it defying gravity. I started eating the food he’d made me and asked him outright. ‘Who are you?’ He looked me in the eye and said with a slightly crooked grin ‘Obi said you could eat.’ 

I stood back aghast. He was one of them. I had so many questions. But before I could ask any of them he started packing up his cart. I found myself rooted to the spot while he packed away. I literally couldn’t move. As he grabbed the handles he turned to me and put his large hand on top of my distended stomach and winked. And that’s when I saw it. The little purple twinkle in his eye. With that, he was gone and I was finally able to move. The fullness I was not noticing yet hit me and I nearly sat down on the pavement where I stood but I managed to pull myself together and make it back to the site where I did very little work. He’d fed me as much as Obi had done but without me noticing. And I let him! 

I could hardly wait for opening time at the restaurant that evening.  Still full from lunch,  I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to ask him out or just demand some answers. When I saw him behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a tea towel I knew what I wanted. I marched right up to the counter but before I had a chance to speak he pulled out a single purple rose which he handed me. As I looked at him in the low light, I realised all his confidence had fallen away and he was genuinely a little nervous. Turns out he’d fallen for me too. He ended up asking me on a date. Who knew a 7 foot tall Minotaur would be such a hopeless romantic. (Yeah I just dropped that in. I didn’t know how else to say it really! It is what it is?) He told me that he finished around midnight but that he had somewhere he wanted to take me and would that be alright. I agreed, obviously! And parked myself on a table by the window to wait for him. 

Even though the restaurant was pretty busy, he found time to be quite attentive. Every hour he brought me another rose and a plate of something to eat. By the time it was midnight I had a vase full of flowers and a belly full of Greek food! Bear in mind I was stuffed from lunch and I arrived at the restaurant at 6. So do the math to work out how full I currently am. That’s important for the rest of the story! As the final customers left I watched as he whipped round the place lifting the chairs and sweeping up as fast as he could. It was kind of cute to see how keen he was. When it was all done he explained to me that he wanted to take me somewhere that was special to him, somewhere he thought I would enjoy. He looked a little sheepish but I agreed. We walked through town (slowly I might add, I was basically round at this point) as he held my hand. Not many people can make me feel small but walking around holding this giant's hand was quite humbling. At this point I think my belly was bigger than his but he was still over half a foot taller than me. Being near him calmed my stomach too. It was like I was just pleasantly full when I was near him, not dangerously packed to bursting. We chatted a little bit but we mainly walked in silence, happy in each other's company.

We arrived at a sort of park on the edge of town. There were a few ruins we walked past but we ended up at the edge of what looked like a small cave. In any other setting I would have run a mile but he has been so tender with me I just felt super safe. In the moonlight, at the edge of the cave we stood looking into each other's eyes. He slowly leant in to kiss me and I let him. As he leant back I felt myself rooted to the spot again unable to move. He started walking backwards into the cave and as the dark consumed him he winked again and beckoned me to follow him. After a minute the effects of whatever it was wore off and I was able to slowly walk into the cave. After a few steps I discovered that  it was lit all along by torches and it started to become more of a corridor. There was no sign of Aster but I carried on into the maze. As I walked I felt a little rumble in my stomach. I brushed it off as just digestion starting and kept going. After a few turns it saw a few petals in the ground. The massive softie had left me a trail to follow. 

Eventually, I came across a small recess in the wall with a little table set into it and a candle. I sat down on one of the chairs and Aster emerged from out of the darkness with two heavy cloched plates. He sat down and put the plates in front of us. He pulled the cloches off to reveal a sizeable plate of oysters. I smiled and he smiled back. I found myself inexplicably hungry and went to take my first one, but he leant over and stopped me. He picked up a large oyster and lifted it to my lips. I smiled and opened my mouth and titled my head back. If I’m totally honest I’ve never eaten oysters before but I’d seen it in films. I knew I was supposed to swallow them whole so fortunately I didn’t make a tit of myself. I don’t know if you’ve had them before but I’m not gonna lie, they taste good but they are like swallowing snot! Being fed them was hot though! Knowing I had the full attention of this slab of man was really doing it for me! He fed me a few and then sat back and I did the same for him! Watching his heavy Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed was a surprising new kink I discovered in that cave! 

Suffice to say, it was like time worked differently in that cave. We’d only been there a few minutes and there were a fair few oysters on each of our plates. Maybe 3 dozen each? They didn’t really take long to eat but it felt like we were there for hours. I wasn’t counting the oysters but by the time we’d cleared the plates, my belly had advanced quite a way. Like way more than a few dozen oysters would have done. It was still tight and round but it was a lot bigger and heavier. It appeared that my tank top had ripped at the edges and so I just took it off. Even though we were underground it wasn’t cold so I was happy in just my jeans. 

I looked at Aster and he had the biggest grin on his face. His own belly was beginning to blow out from our oyster binge. I could see even more of his substantial furry belly pushing out from his shirt. I wasn’t sure if he looked taller at that point? Everything about him was larger in some way and he was meatier and hairier too. (Yes every part of him was bigger. I won’t say more than that!) He was absentmindedly rubbing the underneath of his belly curve as he watched me readjust to my new bloated mass. His eyes were both kind and predatory at the same time. We stood there for a little while admiring one another until he winked and shimmered like Obi used to. With that he was gone and the chase was back on. I lumbered on further into the maze of tunnels, my swollen midsection slowing me down considerably. The path twisted and turned as I was led deeper in. 

I couldn’t tell you how long it was until I found him. At first, I began to hear running water and so, for want of any other clues, I followed the noise. The walls of the maze were beginning to look less constructed by human hands and more cave-like, I guess? Stone bricks giving way to actual stone. I even thought I saw a few flashes of gemstones here and there but I was more interested in my next meal. Even though I must have eaten a week's worth of food so far, I was still inexplicably hungry. I don’t know if I can describe how it felt. My insides felt packed full. Like totally solid. There was very little give to my belly. And yet I knew I wanted more. Actually I needed more. The stretched feeling I have when I’m around these guys is something I’ve never experienced before. 

Eventually, the water got louder and louder until I walked through a stone archway and found myself in a cavernous expanse. The sound of water turned out to be an underground waterfall, the water cascading down into a piercing blue lagoon. The ceiling was lit with some sort of glowing insects which were making a melodic rhythmic chirping sound. I searched around the expanse until I found him. He was sitting with his legs in the water next to a fire where he seemed to be grilling fish. It was the first time I’d seen his legs and they were indeed as you would imagine them to be. Covered in thick black hair. I couldn’t see his feet as they were in the water but I am guessing he didn’t have five toes at this point. It seemed that he was becoming more of his true self the closer we got to the centre. I made my way round and joined him sitting by the water. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever been. We sat there for a few moments in silence. Enjoying the beauty. I realised after a while that he was holding my hand.  He turned his attention to the fire and pulled out a perfectly grilled fish which he placed next to himself and he began to break off pieces of the succulent meat and began feeding it to me. The fish melted in my mouth. It was so succulent and tender. I ate the whole thing quickly and he brought a second fish over and put his hands back on the floor as a signal for me to feed him. I obliged, tenderly placing it into his mouth. We did this for a while until all the fish he was cooking had gone. He leant forward and I thought he was going to kiss me again but instead he plunged his hand into the water and pulled out more fish. I’m no expert but I know one of them was a Salmon, and a pretty big one at that. And I think there was a rainbow trout and something else sort of blue? We carried on eating and cooking and eating and cooking for hours. The time weirdness means I have no idea how long we were there or how many I ate at this point, but looking at the both of us we were both much bigger. I don’t know if it’s part of the atmosphere or I genuinely ate that much but there it was.  My own belly was enormous. Way bigger than I had been in the diner. His gut was spectacular. Round and hairy and now totally free from his shirt. Bear in mind he was nearly 8 feet at this point.

He reached over and tenderly began to massage my own swollen stomach. His hands, surprisingly gentle, but firm. I closed my eyes and relaxed and basically let him do what he wanted to me. All of my senses seemed to be heightened, every little touch was like a wave of ecstasy flowing across my skin. His smell was heady, strong and potent and filling my nostrils. Eventually, I realised he’d gone but I stayed there for a little while longer. Partly because it was so beautiful but also partly because I could hardly move. 

I pulled myself to my feet, hauling my cantilevered belly up. It was still self supporting and jutting straight out from me into the air. I wished there was a mirror somewhere so I could have seen it properly. I saw an opening in the wall near the waterfall so I followed it through into a darker and more narrow part of the maze. The walls were closer than before and there were a few parts where I was worried I might not get through with my newly ballooned gut. After a while I started to smell the aromatic smell of cooking pork which made me instantly hungry again. I followed the smell and found three doors with a riddle written above it. I can’t remember the riddle but it was something about liars and guessing the way. You can probably guess that I’m not the smartest guy, I’m not dumb, but when it comes to stuff like riddles I’m out. My belly was rumbling loud at this point too so I was distracted. I decided to just listen at each of the doors. Door one I could hear a whistling noise which I reckoned was some sort of drop. Door two was a distinct growling snore. Although Aster was super stuffed I was pretty sure it wasn’t him asleep, and having met some of these guys I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a cute teddy bear behind there! I approached door three and had a listen. I could just about hear a sizzling sound and with the smell of pork I couldn’t handle it so I threw the door open. I wasn’t disappointed! 

The room was a small stone cell with a fire pit sunk in the bottom. On top of it was a decently sized pig on a spit. I couldn’t see Aster so I stepped in gingerly. The door closed behind me and as I turned it dissolved into the wall. There was no way out. I stepped into the room and looked into the shadows at the edges.  And there he was, taller than ever. As he stepped out into the light of the fire I could see he’d changed more. The first thing I noticed were the horns that had now sprouted from the top of his head. They weren’t massive but they were slightly curved and protruding from his thicker hair. The hair wasn’t just thicker on his head either. He’d now taken off his shirt and I could see the extent of it. He was pretty much covered in thick black hair all over his arms and sides. Virtually the only skin visible was across his bloated sphere of a belly. And that had a decent covering all along the bottom of the curve stretching up to a thick happy trail that snaked up to his hairy pierced pecs. The thick gold chain connects to his medallion. 

He spoke with a deep gravelly voice that I could literally feel in my feet. He told me under no circumstances was there to be any pork left before we left this place. Under any other situation I would have laughed. The pig had to be 200 lbs of meat. That would literally have taken any normal person a few weeks to eat. But here, with him, I knew right there that we would do it. I was apprehensive to think about how much my stomach would distend after that but I knew that whatever this place was it would be ok. I walked up to him and put my hands firmly on the sides of his thick belly and looked up. He looked down at me and bent his head to kiss me on the lips again. I smiled and sighed with contentment. Something special was about to happen. 

He pulled back and handed me a sharp knife, and took out one of his own and cut a slab of meat. The juices were rubbing down his arm. He pulled off the crackling and greedily began to eat it, crunching and swallowing it down. He offered me the meat and I eagerly opened my mouth to receive it. It tasted even better than it smelt and within minutes the whole slab had disappeared into me. We continued to feed one another the pork for a while, taking it in turns to slice off large chunks of flesh and sharing the delicious meat. We were soon covered in the stuff, our bellies continuing their rapid expansions. As we progressed, instead of slowing down we began to speed up. We even abandoned the knives and took to simply ripping off our next portions and guzzling down our haul. He fed me and I fed him and we ate ourselves. The boundaries of reality slipped away as we gorged on the meal together. (Yes I know that sounded a bit twatty but that’s how it felt. How many pigs have you shared with a fucking Minotaur?)

We didn’t take any breaks in our gluttony, the pig simply ended up inside both of us. I’d guess Aster ate more, simply because he is a good few feet taller than me but I didn’t notice him actually eating more. By the time the pig was reduced to bones we were both insanely swollen. My own gut was packed so big I couldn’t see anything else when I looked down. The skin tightly stretched over the vast quality of food it held inside itself. If I thought for a second about how much food I contained I’m not sure my brain could handle it. I looked like someone had slipped an air compressor up my arse and turned it on for a good half an hour. Physics had to be different in there because there was no way I’d have been able to stand up without some supernatural help. Looking at Aster, he was the same. Comically swollen, his huge abdomen surrounded by a sea of hair. The only difference between us is that you could still see some of his muscle definition.  The power and strength he contained was tangible when you looked at his animal-like frame. 

Covered in grease and bits of food we sat back admiring each other's new size. I wanna keep the story a touch modest, but he was clearly aroused by our efforts. I won’t go into details because I never kiss and tell, but fuck me he was a big boy! I’m glad there was magic in the site because after what we did next I could have ended up in hospital! 

After we had, erm, cuddled, we lay back with our heads next to one another. Our engorged stomachs stuck high into the air, solid and packed with food, unyielding in their size and volume. We stayed for a period of time and chatted about our lives. Aster clearly wasn’t wanting this to be a one off encounter. He was surprisingly affectionate and romantic for a half man half bull. He wanted to know all about me and my life and what my plans for the future were. It was such a tender moment I could have stayed there forever but Aster had one more plan up his sleeve. He pulled himself up easily and offered me a hand to help me up. I just about managed to get to my feet, helped by his superhuman strength I assume! Kissing me again he led me by the hand into the shadows where we found a new door. Fortunately, it was a double door as neither of us would have fit through anything smaller at this stage. We walked into a vast cavernous space. I didn’t think it was possible but it was even more beautiful than the underwater lagoon where we ate the fish. The glowing insects were back and this time other glowing creatures joined them. Small colourful lizards darted from rock to rock making patterns in the water that filled half the floor. Several smaller waterfalls fed this one, each framed by cascades of glowing plants with brightly shining flowers falling down.  Alongside the water was a long banqueting table covered with food. There were golden bowls and plates full of oversized fruits and bread. Huge slabs of roasted meats and wheels of cheese. At the end there appeared a large ornately decorated cornucopia which seemed to be the source of the food. Aster led me to the table and sat us both down in large oversized thrones. We’d made it to the centre of the labyrinth!

As we sat down, our swollen bellies resting on our legs I realised he had plans to carry on eating. Whatever magic was present meant I definitely felt hungry but there was no way I could physically move to get the food. I was practically pinned down underneath the sheer ridiculous size of my own belly. I was about to say this to Aster when I heard something move in the water. I looked across to see six men emerge from the water. I say men, we both know they weren’t that. If I had to guess I would say they were some sort of water nymphs? They had a pale bluey green tinge to their skin which had a faint shimmer to it as well. They were lithe and incredibly beautiful, their muscles and sinews visible underneath their skin. Their tight shorts left very little to the imagination and their eyes looked as hungry as I felt. They were here to feed us. 

I don’t know whether we were there for a few days or weeks or months. The food from the cornucopia kept coming and we kept eating. Non stop gorging, all enabled by the blue dudes. Their dexterous long fingers feeding us food and massaging our swelling bellies. We both ended up the size of trucks, our inhumanly swollen bellies stretching way past what was physically or morally possible. 

At some point we were done and we were pushed or rolled to the edge of the water. I slipped in and sank heavily to the bottom. Whether I was magically able to breathe underwater or whether I somehow didn’t need to breathe, I’m not sure, but Aster and I were able to move freely under the water. We swam for a while through caverns and caves, snaking away from the maze. When we surfaced we found ourselves on a small island just off the coast of the town. Away from the magical influence of the labyrinth, Aster was back to his more human form and his belly was vastly reduced but still clearly swollen. I was the same, my belly was huge, but it at least was obeying the laws of physics. Again, I don’t want to make the story any more r-rated than it needs to be so let’s say we spent some time with each other there. We needed some time to digest and recover as well. 

Friends, I don’t know whether what happened was a dream or some sort of vision, but I do know I’ve gained 50lbs in a few days. I have a very definite and prominent ball belly now, which I’m not unhappy about. I also have a new boyfriend. Unlike Obi, Aster was happy to stick around, so I do know that something happened. I don’t really want to ask too many questions from Aster because I don’t really mind if it was real or not. I know he’s here and I know we ate a shit ton of food and I know he’s not going anywhere

For the rest of my stories click here

[iamyoursinblog]

Miss u...

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: smut 

Word Count:  1.4 k

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LIST

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He was returning to the hotel after the concert. And why did he miss you so much today? Or he was just very tired and wanted to be in your arms, which heals him. Although it is unlikely that he would have been able to remember that he wanted to hug you if he had seen you... He grinned as the desire passed through his body with heat. He wonders if he asks you, will you send him some picante photos? he thought as he stepped out of the elevator.

He snorted when he smelled your perfume. One of the new managers wore the same perfume as you, which angered him every time. It made him miss you even more. Maybe we should just prohibit the manager from using this perfume? Perhaps he can say that he has an allergy... He shook his head at his stupid thoughts.

He entered the room and froze when he heard the sound of water in the bathroom. He mixed up the rooms, he looked around in surprise, but there were his things around. Was he really so sleepy in the morning that he didn’t turn off the water, he thought as he threw his bag on the bed. He opened the door to the bathroom and stopped...

“Am I dreaming?” he gasped in surprise when he saw you. Even if it was a hallucination, he didn't care. He quickly walked up to you, hugging you tightly.

“Yoongi” you laughed as he pushed you against the wall, ending up underwater fully clothed. "What if I'm just a figment of your imagination?"

“I don’t care” He pressed his lips to yours.

He tried so hard to hold back... Not showing you how much he missed you while being so far away so that you wouldn't worry. But now you were there. Finally he could feel that he was breathing. He hit you like a tsunami, wanting to possess every inch of your body. “Yoongi” you moaned from his caresses. He missed so much the sound of his name falling from your lips with moans. “Wow... did you miss me that much?” you giggled at his actions.

“Baby, I miss you even when you go into the next room for more than 5 minutes.” Yoongi smiled widely, making you laugh

“Hmm... strange... I don’t remember that I received even one message that you missed me,” you snorted, slightly pushing him away.

"And what? Now I’m not allowed to touch you?” Yoongi chuckled as he took a step back.

“And will you listen to me?” you laughed.

"Of course not!" He pushed you against the wall again. You knew him too well. He groaned as you slid your hand into his pants, cupping his cock. “Fuck, I missed you so much,” he moaned as you ran your hand along his length.

  He pulled down his pants, turning you to face the wall. You moaned as he left a smack on your ass before pushing his full length into you. He rested his forehead against your back, groaning loudly. So wet and hot. “Fuck, Yoongi,” you growled at his too fast pace.

“Sorry, my little bird, I don’t think I can hold back this time,” he continued to pound into you with hard thrusts. For the first time he was obsessed only with his own desire. Not even 10 minutes had passed when he pulled out of you, cumming over your ass.

You laughed, resting your forehead against the wall. "Wow... this is something new"

“Stop laughing at me,” he hugged you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I was going crazy here every day because of one of our managers.”

“Are you now saying that while I was away, you were crazy about another girl?” You snorted in displeasure.

He squeezed you tighter with his hands when you tried to push him away. “Sorry, I'm an idiot. Pleasure turned off my brain!” Yoongi turned you around to face him, hugging you again. “It’s just that this manager wears the same perfume as you, making me think about you 24/7. And these thoughts about you drove me crazy"

“Your mouth talks too much, Yoongi!” You said, squeezing his jaw with your fingers. “I’m sure you’ll find a more useful use for it!” You said, spreading your legs wider. He laughed quietly, kneeling in front of you.

“It seems like I've been away for too long,” Yoongi said, running his tongue along your crotch. “Where did my dear bird get this commanding tone from?” he asked, sucking on your clit before squeezing it with his teeth, causing you to rest your hands on his shoulders.

“Daddy...” you whispered, breathing heavily.

“That’s better, my little bird. Now turn around, bend over with your legs spread wide, and open yourself with your arms so that your daddy can have a good look at what belongs to him!” Yoongi growled, and you immediately obeyed him. He leaned forward, running his tongue along your folds, open to his caresses. He ran his hands down your legs before squeezing your ass. He squeezed your hips as you nearly fell forward. “Put your palms on the floor,” he said. He wrapped his arms around your waist, causing your hips to rest on his shoulders, lifting your legs off the floor. His face pressed into your crotch, caressing your wet pussy with his tongue. He moaned as you leaned back on one hand, ran the other hand over his penis. “Fuck,” Yoongi growled, letting go of you. He helped you to your feet before getting up himself, getting rid of his wet clothes. He turned off the water and grabbed your hand, heading towards the bedroom.

“Shall we continue?” Yoongi grinned as you bit your lip, looking hungrily at his body. He pushed you onto the bed, giving you a wide view of your thighs, pressing your knees into the mattress next to your shoulders. You moaned when he slid his tongue into your leaking hole.

“I want your cock,” you moaned. “Please, daddy...please.”

“You ask so sweetly, how can I say no,” Yoongi said, lying on the bed with his back, pulling your hips towards his face. You leaned forward, running your tongue along his cock as he licked your pussy. “Missed me that much?” Yoongi grinned, groaning at how greedily you sucked his cock.

“Mmmhh,” you moaned while his cock was still deep in your mouth. Your thighs shook as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers fucked you. Your loud moan vibrated against his cock as you finish on his tongue. Yoongi stood up from the bed pulling you along with him. He bent you over the bed, thrusting into you harshly. “Fuck... that feels so good,” you moaned.

He grabbed your wrists, pulling you towards him, causing your body to hang over the bed. He pounded hard into you, almost going crazy with pleasure. He let go of you when your legs began to shake violently, allowing you to fall into the bed. He climbed onto the bed, squeezing your thighs with his knees before slamming into you again. Because of this pose, you were even tighter than before. He growled as he continued to make long thrusts into you. “Fuck, I can cum just from these sounds,” Yoongi growled. Each of his thrusts caused you to moan loudly and slap your ass. These sounds were music to his ears.

“Fuck... I’m so close,” you gasped in pleasure as his thrusts became faster.

“Fuck... Fuck... FUCK" Yoongi moaned loudly as you squeezed him hard, lost in your orgasm. "Fuck this feels so good!..." Yoongi growled loudly, giving a few more hard thrusts before pulling out his cock, cumming over your back.

He fell forward, holding your body tightly in his arms. Covering your body with kisses. He cursed as his phone continued to beep with incoming notifications. He turned to pull the bag from the edge, taking out his phone.

"What's wrong, baby?" you asked as he cursed as he unlocked the phone.

“You just arrived, and we’ve already been caught,” Yoongi laughed when he showed you a message from his manager, who was in the next room: *Sounds like your girlfriend came to see you!*

You laughed, turning to face Yoongi, hugging him again. “Advise him to change his room if he doesn’t want to hear for the next few days how glad you are that your girlfriend came to see you.”

Yoongi laughed while kissing you, “That’s my girl!”

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More Min Yoongi x Reader:

SOLO

New director (smut)

I want be your boyfriend! (smut)

Open lesson (pt.1) (fluff)

Open lesson (pt.2) (smut)

Welcome to my dark side… (angst)

Miss u... (smut)

SERIES

ONE NIGHT:  Part 3: Bad, bad girl (smut)

TRAP: Part: [0,5] [1] [2] [2,5] [3] [4] [4,5] [5.25] [5.5] [5.75] […] (bl, smut)

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LIST  (BTS & GOT7)

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[sixseasonsofodestawithatardis]

🔥?

Okay, so I'm not sure if this is an unpopular opinion, but to me, many of the characters within the narrative of THG are disabled/ have experienced disability in some way! Sorry for how long this post this about to be!

I'll explain further just so others can understand my thought process:

Katniss- Goes deaf in the first book, and whilst that is cured in the 2nd, throughout the rest of the trilogy has PTSD/ trauma, which is a disability/ becomes disabling.

EDIT: Katniss is indigenous (Gale and Haymitch are also part of the seam!) How disability and race intersect is important, too!

Peeta- Loses his leg and has to use a prosthetic, a visible disability, on top of the hijacking and how that affects his mental health.

Johanna- Also has PTSD and severe Hydrophobia due to being electrocuted by the Capitol- to the point where she can't go out into the rain and is used against her when applying to D 13's army. (Not sure if that's 100% correct, but Johanna stans, feel free to correct me!)

Beetee- Again, most likely has PTSD, but also in book 3, due to the lightning ( I think), he is in a wheelchair.

Enobaria- Again, PTSD; I also want to include how her teeth were fashioned into fangs ( Idr if it happened in the book!) But I'm unsure how that would affect her emotionally, physically, medically, etc., so I can't get deeper into that. I've put it down anyway.

Mags- Had a stroke, and her speech isn't as clear as it used to be. Also, she uses a cane, which was taken away from her during the 75th games, presumably because it can be used as a weapon, and she had to rely on Finnick to be mobile during that time in the arena, on top of PTSD or some form of trauma.

Haymitch- Has PTSD (i.e. the bad nightmares), and whilst nothing is said in the book, the alcoholism he has to use to cope with everything has probably messed his liver up. On top of that, the withdrawal symptoms whilst sobering up in D13 were probably disabling, too.

Annie- Has PTSD or Psychosis. She has hallucinations, putting her hands to her ears when triggered by things that remind her of the 70th games or being tortured.

Finnick- PTSD and had multiple breakdowns in D13. On top of the trauma that comes with sexual exploitation, which many other Victors would also have (maybe not the same presentation of symptoms/ coping mechanisms!) if/when Snow forced them into prostitution.

Also, obviously, Chaff, Seeder, Wiress, Cashmere, Cecilia, and basically every Victor is dealing with the trauma and various mental and physical problems after the games, which again are disabilities or disabling!

Non- Victors

Mrs Everdeen- Has depression that renders her mute and unresponsive after Mr Everdeen's death.

Gale- Not stated explicitly, but having to work in the same mines that killed your father, having to then be the one to have to hunt so they survive on top of being in poverty, and then having to save as many people from your district when Snow tries to bomb it would lead to some sort of impact on your mental, physical and emotional health. Also, the whipping he received in Catching Fire would leave a massive injury and be a nightmare for anyone.

Madge's mom- Has constant migraines, which I assume increased after Maysilee's death.

Pollux—He has his tongue cut out and communicates through gestures; this also applies to the rest of the Avox's.

District 10 Boy- in the 74th games, this tribute is described as having a crippled foot.

Those are all the characters from the book who are disabled or become disabled by the system. And I think the fandom forgets that a lot—which isn't helped by the movies erasing things like Johanna's Hydrophobia or Peeta's prosthetic leg. This is annoying to me as many characters, such as Annie, will get ableism thrown their way, yet that person's favourite character will actually be considered disabled- also because I am a disabled woman and having to put up with ableism is a nightmare anyway.

I know we talk about trauma such as PTSD and Psychosis a lot in this fandom, as we should! It's imperative to the message of THG's and the characters of these books! But I've never seen someone explicitly say these characters are disabled; they count as disability representation. And I think if we did that, then

a) We could talk about things like psychosis, PTSD and other traumas these characters experience with greater insight and find empathy and strength within characters we couldn't before and maybe the ableism thrown at the characters would lessen a bit as well.

b) Calling it disability/ disabling on top of the diagnosis would enable us to examine other bits of Panem and see another way it affects people. It would also provide a greater depth of analysis in terms of how we talk about poverty, the games, and other things within the narrative.

Such as how if you were a wheelchair user in the districts, especially D8-12, you wouldn't have access to a mobility aid, so you are either forced to find or create an unsuitable mobility aid such as a cane or are effectively left without aid. On top of this, if they did have a wheelchair (I highly doubt it!) It would be taken away because it could be used as a weapon ( like Glimmer's ring or Mags's cane- also, wheelchairs make good battering rams), so you would be left immobile. We could also discuss how D1-D4 are wealthier and how that affects things like disability and healthcare compared to D7, 8, 9, 10,11,12. Also how D1, D2, D3 and 5 or 6 have the materials or would be the Districts most able to make mobility aids if the Capitol even let them.

This is also a double-edged sword because I know if this conversation around disability within THG starts, there will be many that are going to have some terrible takes. It's going to make my blood pressure rise, and it'll be a nightmare to combat and, as a disabled woman, worse to read. And if this discussion does take off, then I'm gonna need this fandom to understand the three models of disability at a bare minimum! Not that you can't comment without that knowledge at all it just will save a lot of bad takes!

DISCLAIMER- I am just one disabled woman. There are plenty of disabled ppl within this fandom with a different opinion from mine, and I AM NOT AN EXPERT on disability!

TLDR: Many of the characters are disabled and yet face ableism within fandom when they shouldn't. We should start explicitly analysing the series through a disability lens on top of the ones we already explore, but I am terrified by the terrible takes and analysis that would occur.

Thank you for sending in an ask; I'm always happy to answer more! Also, I'm so sorry it's so long. It's probably not what you were expecting for an unpopular take ask. I had a huge thought process for this one, and I really wanted to go in-depth and try to make sure others understood!

Also, I love your odesta fanfiic's and can't wait to read more 🙂!

[cluz1babe]

‘Open My Eyes... to Everything that Closes My Heart’ Chapter One

(very limited use of ‘Y/N’ throughout story)

2k words

Comments are very appreciated!

PLOT

You were a Belaerys, with the Blood of Old Valyria in your veins, future Queen of Sothoryos. Up until eight years before the Dance of Dragons, everyone thought the Belaerys family was gone after the Doom. You were well-respected by everyone except most of the greens. Despite that, you were officially given a seat on the new High Council. The Hand, Otto Hightower, was trying to bring more countries to their aid, but his excuse was to bring peace between countries. Planning to wed you to Daeron, the Small Council of the Greens are shocked when Aemond refuses to offer you Daeron in order to take you for himself.

TAKES PLACE BETWEEN 129-133+ AC (a mix of show & book timeline & canon, plus my own)

TRIGGER WARNINGS (full story) : Talk of Abortion, Emotionally Abusive Relationships (Aegon / Criston / Otto x Everyone), Alcohol, Blood, Blowjob, Branding, Bullying, Childbirth, Mentions of Rape (no rape of reader) , Death, Drugs, Fire, Hallucinations, Incest, Marriage, Misogyny, Pregnancy, Profanity, Sexism, Slut Shaming, Smut, Violence, War, P in V, Sex, Fingering, No Cheating, MDNI, 18+ , ENM (Ethical Non-Monogamy), Slight Breeding Kink, Dub-Con (in the Aegon Bonus Chapter) if you squint

From what I can remember about how to pronounce Nahuatl, you pronounce ‘X’ as ‘SH’, and pronounce every letter except ‘H’.

Character representations are the lightest and darkest colours available.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CHAPTER ONE

Aemond had heard about you. Three years older than Aemond himself, they said. He was told Princess Y/N Xochital Belaerys would be arriving and she was to be convinced to join the Greens in their fight to keep the throne. Bringing in more dragons could be the deciding factor in the war to come and they were the only other family left who were dragon riders. It was thought that all Belaeryses were dead, but your family had made it to the opposite end of Sothoryos, with your ships & dragons and the family had been there ever since. There was a recently acquired map of Sothoryos brought to the table. It was made up of one giant continent and clusters of islands. Your country had been secretive for centuries, but the Greens and the Belaerys family both needed allies. So you went to King’s Landing, and there was already talk of wedding you to Daeron, the youngest son of Viserys I Targaryen and Alicent Hightower. Though they weren’t very happy about the situation. 

Otto, referring to your peoples’ “lascivious behavior…lack of morals”, said that Loicato bastards keep both parents’ names, and royals are given middle names. Men and women can have as many as three plural marriages, and they even marry same-gendered partners. That part especially caught his attention. For as much as he wished he could explore that part of him, his desire for men as well as women, would not dissipate over time. It only got stronger. He really wished he could visit the home of the future Sothoryi Queen.

Otto cleared his throat to make sure Aemond was paying attention. “While she’s here, get her to see why being a part of this family will be beneficial to her people as much as ours. You must convince her to take Daeron as her husband.”

Aemond stared at Otto with his piercing gaze. “I am to play matchmaker for my brother? Does Daeron know? Why doesn’t he do it himself?”

Alicent answered him, “Yes, your brother knows, but he isn’t here and he won’t be back for a while—”

“Your brother is making sure our allies stay our allies.” Otto interrupted.

“Without having himself to offer in marriage?”

“It is much more important that we secure Sothoryos.”

Though kind of annoyed, Aemond was always ready to do as he was commanded. “When?”

“Six days time.”

Aemond was to meet you on the beach. He saw you from the keep just as you landed. You had been wearing a hood and mask to protect your face while flying, but you had removed it. You were getting off of your dragon when he finally approached. Your saddle was attached at the base of her neck; fitted for her enormous size. It was made of hemp, lightweight and strong, lined with caiman skin. It was the richest, most brilliant blue he had ever seen. But he also knew that you knew magic, as they did in Valyria, so he wondered if it was enchanted with some spell or other.

Your dragon was named Molcajete. She was black with dark purple markings. She was at least 20% bigger than Vhagar. Not to mention, she was very particular about who she would let get near her. Approaching your beast might be extremely difficult, if not deadly. Usually only when you asked her not to hurt them, would she allow someone to get close. But Aemond didn’t know that about her.

Molcajete never bothered leaning to the side to allow you to dismount easily, so you’d come up with the idea to use a rope, attached to the saddle. You wrapped the albaca fiber rope around your armour-clad arm and jumped off. It caused Aemond to start before he saw the rich violet - the shade of your banners - wrapped around your arm, holding you safe from a fall. It would have been painful without your leathers and armour. You dropped your feet to the ground and tossed the rope out of your way before removing your gloves, hood, mask, and cape. You didn’t see Aemond walking toward you and startled when he asked you how your flight had been. Your dragon whipped her head around to see what scared you and roared in Aemond’s face. He was shocked, to say the least, but he wasn’t scared.

“Molcajete…” You saw Aemond’s eye patch and immediately knew who he was. “This is Prince Aemond.” You stroked her, “I’m sure the prince didn’t intend to frighten me.” Molcajete looked at you as though she was listening carefully. “Kostilus, lykirī.” (‘Calmly, please.’) When she relaxed and looked away, you gave her one last command. “Hegnīr. Sōvēs.” (‘Like that. Fly.) With that, Molcajete walked away, beat her wings, rose into the air, and flew off. She sent back what can only be described as a sandstorm, from the beach sand, in her wake. You used your discarded cape to cover yourself and the Prince until it stopped. 

Aemond could see your family coat of arms clearly emblazoned on a flag hanging around the dragon’s neck, once she was in flight. Purple Dragon Spitting a Blue Fireball, with a Blue Macuahuitl underneath, on Yellow. You were dressed as though you were going to battle. Your hair was dark grey (no doubt from the mix of Valyrian Belaerys blood with whatever people lived in Sothoryos) with blue-dyed tips. Aemond remembered his grandfather saying that Añil blue was only made is Sothoryos (it had become popular in Essos and Dorne) and royalty often used the blue to dye their brows and hair. You also had a septum piercing, painted the same colour as the tips of your hair. Your eyes were lined with an enchanted coal and they were an exquisite shade of purple with flecks of gold. They sparkled in the afternoon sunlight like so many stars in the night sky. He thought he was in love with you already.

“Kostilus?” (“Please?”) Aemond’s hands were behind his back, not even breaking a sweat over the dragon being annoyed with him. 

“You have to respect them or they won’t respect you. We don’t actually have power over them, as so many dragon lords once believed. It’s a partnership.”

Aemond smirked, “Where did you find such a lovely dragon?”

“She chose me. In order to get a dragon, my people have to befriend one first, or have one born for them. Then they build a bond while training the dragon. And, as often as possible, manage to get a collar around it themselves, as well as try to mount it. After that, you make as many attempts as possible to ride it without a saddle. When you succeed, you have a dragon. This is to prove to the dragon that you’re not weak. Only once have I witnessed someone give up, but he did lose a leg, which would make riding a dragon near impossible.”

“That’s how I first rode Vhagar.”

“Then you’re already Sothoryi. Perhaps we should give you a middle name to set you apart from the Westerosi.”

“Your family is from Valyria, Princess. Why does she have a different name?”

You chuckled, “I may not even be half Valyrian at this point, as my family hasn’t kept the blood as pure as yours. Her real name is ‘Molcaxitl y Texolotl’, which is ‘Mortar and Pestle’. I shortened it to make it a little easier for the common tongue, but I mostly call her Molca.”

Aemond nodded in agreement that it was a good name, then motioned for you to accompany him, “I thought Sothoryos was unlivable, and yet I was recently told of your existence.”

“When your original home is destroyed and you feel that you have nowhere else to go, then you find it within yourself to go further than Jaenara Belaerys.”

“Tell me of your home.”

“It’s mostly thick jungles. There’s a desert and plains, clear blue sea water, and beaches of pink, black, red, white, and green.”

“Black?”

“Yes, my Prince.” As you walked together, you continued, “My family went back to Valyria five years ago to see what remained. I had already been and told them there was nothing left, but they were determined. Then we went to Dorne. I assume the Hand found out about us from there. 

I wanted to stay out of it for my people but my father, King Maegor Coatl Belaerys was convinced to elect me to send here. And my brother, Prince Baelor TezcacoatI Belaerys, to Dragonstone. Now my father is determined that we join the rest of the world. As well as save the dragons.” He remembered hearing about how all of your dragons were laying, but not one egg had hatched. He thought you meant to attempt mating some of the Belaerys females to one or more Targaryen or wild males.

You both walked for a few steps before you began your short version of how you found Molcajete. “I was in The Summer Islands and I saw a lavender and blue one fly overhead. I decided to search for it. The last Belaerys dragon died ten years before I found Molcajete. Gaelithox was mine, but he was old. Very old, but that made him a great beginner dragon.”

You laughed, but Aemond stopped you. “You mean to tell me, you’ve ridden more than one dragon?”

“Is that not customary here?”

“I’m not sure anyone has ever tried.” He began walking again, with you by his side. “Tell me more.”

“Well, two is the most any rider should ever have at once, and that’s if you ride every day. I came across a small island off of the southern coast of Asshai, which the dragons used as a nursery. Most of them are half Vhagar’s size. I followed a different dragon, white with orange markings, from Asshai to Ulthos, where there were at least seven dragons living. I went out every day for weeks and weeks, often bringing things to make them happy. I sang and spoke to them in Valyrian. One day, I used the command ‘Māzīs’ and Molcajete came to me. I didn’t even know there was one as big as she is, but the second she poked her head out of the cave, I knew she was going to be huge. It was still weeks before she let me ride her.”

“She’s even bigger than mine. How did you do it?” Aemond turned to look at you carefully with his one eye. 

“I talked to them.” You could tell he was suspicious. “She allowed me to put a collar made of rope around her neck.” You leaned in close to him, “I held on really tight. That’s how it’s done where I’m from. First, you learn to ride without a saddle.”

“Were you frightened?”

“I was terrified when I first rode Molcajete. She’s young at heart, still. Took me on all sorts of twists and turns before she let me take over.”

“She must be at least as old as Balerion when he died.”

“Or older than Balerion would be now. She’s of Valyria.” 

“How do you know?” You smirked at him, not wanting to give away all of your secrets. Aemond thought about how Molcajete flew away. “And you let her fly freely.”

“From what I was told, the pits aren’t big enough. She’s well-fed and usually only attacks if she’s threatened.”

“Hmm. Or if someone threatens you.”

“Of course.” You turned into a hall. “Besides, I couldn’t bear forcing her into the pits when a dragon’s favourite thing to do is fly.”

Aemond began scheming. “Could you show me this island?”

“I could, but you won’t find them there. They’ve found a new place somewhere to nest and live, because too many people found out about them.”

Aemond quickly switched to getting to know you more. “What’s your full name? I assume you have one, like your father and brother.”

“Princess Y/N Xochital Belaerys, future Queen of Sothoryos.”

A twinge of disappointment struck Aemond’s chest. “You’re to be married?”

“I am to be Queen.” You stopped to face him. “I was chosen by my people to be our head. We have over a hundred members in positions of power, but my word will be law. It’s better to have a content citizenry. Better than rioting and anarchy.” You paused to remember a revolution you’d witnessed. “Trust me.”

He noticed the somber look on your face. “Hmm. You’re right. It’s much more desirable to have satisfied subjects.” He held out his hand and you took it. He led you on your walk. “You should teach me your language, so I can learn what your name means.”

“Uel nimitsach se amo miatlamantin.” (‘I can teach you a few things.’) You winked at him as you continued ahead of him.

He thought, for once, someone new and exciting had come to King’s Landing.

ONE

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EPILOGUE

TAGLIST

@ilikechocolatemilkh

SERIES MASTERLIST

[taeraemisu]

in every lifetime ; gyuvin zb1

synopsis ; in every lifetime, no matter what, reader and gyuvin always find their way towards each other.

genre ; soulmates !!, i-love-you-in-every-universe, i wasn’t definitely going to write something way sadder, different timelines, mostly fluff

pairings ; gyuvin x reader

a/n ; i’m pretty sure it’s clear i love writing about loving-you-in-every-universe kind of things :) and i may write the original sadder version i had planned for another member if anyone would like to see it !

word count ; 1.5k words

lifetime 241 . .

“do you think we know each other?”

gyuvin looks at you, all confused. of course you both know each other. weren’t you guys dating? was he hallucinating the whole relationship?

you laughed, seeing the confused expression on his face. the both of you were sitting on your desks, in your classroom after school for a ‘study date’ which had clearly turned to anything but studying. gyuvin was playing games on his phone, while you said every little thought you had out loud.

gyuvin put his phone down, giving you his full attention. he loves hearing you talk, even if you had the most insane idea known to mankind.

“no, no, i meant,” you paused, gathering all your thoughts. “i meant, do you think, we know each other in other lifetimes too?”

gyuvin tilt his head, processing your question. “like the movie doctor strange?”

you thought about it. that was one way of seeing it. “yeah, something like that!” you giggled. “do you think we love each other in every single one?”

gyuvin smiled at you, stretching your cheeks. he finds you and your thoughts so adorable. “i mean, there’s so many different possibilities. infinite number of lifetimes …” his voice trails off. “there’s probably one lifetime where we don’t even know each other.”

you mock-gasped. “you think we don’t love each other in every single one? how could you?” you said in the most sarcastic tone possible.

gyuvin chuckled, shaking his head. “i meant—” he clears his throat. “—there’s so many different possibilities. so many lifetimes, anything is possible.” he glanced at you, staring into your eyes in a way that made you blush slightly. “but i bet, we love each other in majority of those infinite lifetimes. we love each other in our current lifetime. that counts, right?”

you smiled at him. you thought about his words, yes there was a possibility that you both don’t even know each other in one lifetime. but your current lifetime was the best in your opinion.

“you are not wrong …” your voice trails off. “i bet there is a lifetime where you are an idol and i’m just merely loving you as your number one fan. i’m still loving you there, right?” you knew how much gyuvin loved to dance, and he was insanely good at it. you were usually there when he practices, admiring the way he danced. how could one be so good? you were basically his number one fan, supporting him to pursue his dreams.

gyuvin looked at you. “isn’t that now?”

you shook your head. “i mean, of course now but i meant, a lifetime where you are an idol, performing for fans all around the world while i am in the crowds, supporting and loving you as a fan.”

gyuvin thought about what you said. a lifetime where he was an idol but he did not know who you are? that can’t be right. he loved you the most in the world, besides his lovely dog. he could not bare to imagine a lifetime where your existence wasn’t know to him.

“then …” his voice trails off, thinking of the right words. “i hope that in another lifetime, you are an idol and i am your fan too, returning all the love you once gave me.”

lifetime 944 . .

you were at the convenience store, getting yourself a quick midnight snack. deadlines getting nearer and nearer, you needed a break.

you were waiting to use to the boiler, the guy who was in front of you taking his time. you groaned in annoyance. what’s taking so long?

the guy turned to look at you, hearing your groaned. you looked at him, awestruck for a moment before looking away. wow, he was gorgeous.

you admired his back for a moment before looking away, feeling too much like a creep for staring. finally, the guy was done, holding his cup noodles and carefully walking away when he loses his grip on the cup noodles, all the contents spilling all over you.

you have got to be kidding me, you thought.

you yelped, the hot water scalding your hand. “i’m so sorry!” the guy apologises, his ears turning red and feeling so, so bad. he finds a napkin and tries to wipe the soup off your shirt. you stopped him, grabbing the napkins and wiping it off yourself.

“i’m terribly sorry!” the stranger apologised. he had a bag and was looking through it, before pulling out a hoodie. “here, change into this. there’s a toilet at the back.” he points to the door at the back of the store. “i’m so sorry, i will pay for your food!”

“i already paid,” you said, a little annoyed, eyeing the hoodie that was clearly way too big for you. you throw the napkin away. thankfully, you did not sustain any burns. the guy looked apologetic, putting his hoodies into your hands. “go change, i will think of something in the meantime.” he takes the cup noodles off your hands, nudging you to the bathroom. you reluctantly did as he wanted, changing out of your shirt and wearing his hoodie instead.

you took a sniff. oh, the stranger smelt good. you came out of the bathroom, seeing the stranger sitting down on a set of tables with your cooked noodles. “i’m so sorry,” he apologises again and takes your dirty shirt off your hands. “i will wash this.”

“it’s fine,” you said as you start to take a bite out of your noodles. you looked at him, who was still sitting with you. “as an apology, give me your name and number.”

he stared at you, a little shock of how bold you were cause he was planning on getting your number first.

“i’m kim gyuvin.”

lifetime 1101 . .

you were in a dance studio, preparing for your upcoming performance. it was a school dance competition and you were determined to win. usually placed second, you were determined to help your school win first place this year round.

while practicing and fixing your mistakes, you see a head peaking into the studio through the door. you looked at the disturbance through the mirror, raising an eyebrow before walking towards the door. just as you did, the figure runs away.

you peak out of the studio, looking up and down the hallways for the mysterious figure but you could not find anyone.

weird, you thought before you returned back to practice.

this happened multiple times for the next few weeks. where you will notice someone looking at you dance but runs away before you even get the chance to figure out who it was.

one day however, when you saw the figure again, you immediately went to the door, opening it to find the culprit but again, the figure disappears. you were so sure that you were hallucinating at that point when you looked down and saw a tiny box on the floor.

picking it up, there was a tiny note and a keychain of a dog in the box. you read the note, chuckling to yourself.

‘hey you !! amazing dancer !! we should collab together one day :)) i’m kim gyuvin, text me !!!’

lifetime 613 . .

“no! we need to get this dog food! it’s the only one eumppappa eats!”

“but it’s way too expensive!”

you and gyuvin were out grocery shopping together, trying to finish your errands before the weekend passes by. the both of you have been happily married for a little over a year now, so now your usual weekends were spent by trying to finish up errands and household chores.

“okay, how about this,” gyuvin thinks of a solution. “let’s take one box of what eumppappa usually eats and another box of whatever you want. if she likes mine better, we will only get that from now on. if she likes yours better, i am sending her to the vet for a checkup.”

you playfully hit your husband’s shoulder. he laughs at you, putting the two different boxes of dog food into the cart. “i’m kidding,” he smiled sheepishly. “but we will see which eumppappa likes better. she obviously loves me more.”

you shook your head, disagreeing. “she loves me more!”

by now, the two of you were bickering in the middle of the aisle of pet supplies about which parent your dog loves more. eventually, you carried on with your groceries, getting the things you really need, and by that, meaning you disagreeing on whatever gyuvin wanted to get that wasn’t on the list.

you stare at your husband while he decides which packet of chips would taste better. you feel content with life. you were merely shopping with gyuvin, finishing an errand with him. but yet, why did you feel so happy? it was a normal everyday task. how did grocery shopping suddenly made you so happy?

“i can feel you staring,” gyuvin says, walking back to you and putting a packet of chips into the cart. “my face is hard to resist, right?”

you rolled your eyes. “as if.”

you stared at gyuvin a little longer while he walks off to get other items. you realised why you felt so happy grocery shopping.

you were grocery shopping with gyuvin, and doing anything with him makes you unbelievably content and happy. it was a simple task, but doing it with gyuvin made it a hundred times better.

in every lifetime, you were in love with gyuvin. and gyuvin was in love with you.

and nothing could change that.

© taeraemisu do not copy my works !