#i just don't want you to get the wrong idea
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jollyhunter · 5 hours ago
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"Stay. Down." Soldier Boy grits out. His breath comes hot against your neck. Strong thighs fighting to keep you in place below him while he's straddling your hips with his knees.
A few stray droplets of sweat land on the skin of your neck. To make a supe like him struggle truly means something. And taking on Butcher and Soldier Boy at the same time? Let's just say you were definitely not a supe they ever expected to deal with.
"Fuck you-" you hiss between gritted teeth.
You buck your hips and your claw-pierced shoes rip at the rug, fighting for some grip. And to Soldier Boy's amusement, you snap at them like a savage animal.
You almost manage to dig your fangs into Butcher's arm - but get knocked down again, missing him just by an inch.
Lucky for him. They didn't call you Biteforce for nothing.
"Bloody 'ell-" Butcher grunts, his voice as tense as his clenched jaw while he grapples with you, "A real wildcat ain't she- oh no you won't-" He growls and yanks your hand off the floor before he slams it down again further away, pinning it there.
"Hold still arealdy," Soldier Boy barks at you, his voice thick with annoyance. He quickly shifts his weight on top of you, both of his strong hands coming down on your shoulders to push you into the floor and restrain you.
"Now be a good girl, will ya?" He sneers, his muscles working relentlessly to keep you pinned down beneath him.
Butcher’s fingers wrap into the strands of your hair, firmly holding your head in place and your teeth out of reach. And then he forces your head down. The side of your face hits the ground once again, your third attempt at throwing them off your back thwarted.
But the drugs pumping through your body keeps you fighting, keeps you in your feral blood frenzy. Driven by pure rage. Friends or foes - nothing mattered right now. "Get. Off. Me." You snarl up at them, your fingers clawing at the rug and ripping it to shreds with ease.
"Oi, you better rein it in, luv." Butcher warns and then leans down next to your ear, his patience slowly running out, "If you keep up that attitude we'll 'ave to shut that mouth of yours."
He smirks and leans in further to lock eyes with you, "We don't want the neighbors gettin' any wrong ideas, now do we?"
A/N: Ughhh now I want to continue and write a series for this jkjsdfdggh // did a little edit cuz I just now had time to proofread it sorryyy
THEY COULD DO THAT TO ME ANY DAY AND I WOULD EVEN PAY THEM
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getthehexstrap · 3 days ago
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Hi! So, I have an idea for a Jinx x fem. I was thinking reader’s parents are meeting Jinx for the first time for Christmas dinner. They ultimately disapprove of Jinx, so reader leaves with her. Maybe, it could end with reader telling Jinx how much she loves her. You can totally play around with this if you want. Thanks for your time!
Not So Picture Perfect
Jinx x piltie!(fem)reader
omg i love this request, thank you!
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summary: jinx is meeting your parents for the first time at christmas dinner.
genre: a little angsty, fluff
warnings: arguing, cursing, stuck up parents.
a/n: it's been forever since i've written angst, bare with me... also, this was supposed to be posted tomorrow but i accidentally clicked the wrong button 😭
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"You know, I'm never really nervous but right now I feel like I need to run the other direction and hide." Jinx laughs softly as she scratches the back of her head.
The two of you are currently standing on the doorstep of your childhood home for Christmas dinner. She's dressed in a different attire than usual; a white, flowy button up that she stole from you, and a pair of black pants. Her hair is done in her usual braids and you only used a little bit of makeup as you thought she didn't even need it, but it made her feel better.
You grew up in Piltover, but as you got older you quickly realized you weren't fit for it, so you ventured down to Zaun where you met Jinx. Much to no one's surprise, your parents weren't too fond of that.
"You're going to be just fine, baby." You assured her, flattening the soft wrinkles in her shirt with a grin.
Your back automatically stiffened up straight at the sound of the door opening. "Y/n." Your mother addressed you, tone sharp as she eyed you and your... 'guest' down. "Mom, Hi." You smiled softly as you grabbed Jinx's hand. "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Jinx."
Your mother's eyes glanced at the blue-haired girl beside you. "Yes, I've heard so much about you, Jinx." She spoke, looking the girl up and down once, turning on her heel. "Come in. Dinner is getting cold." You turned your head towards her with a sorry smile before squeezing her hand, and pulling her inside.
"So, Jinx; I've heard you... make things?" Your father questioned after a few moments of meaningless chatter. "Uhm, yes sir, I do." You could hear the nervousness in her voice. Your hand found its place on her thigh, rubbing soft circles with your thumb as you shot her a reassuring smile.
"And these things are?" He asks, taking a bite of his food. "Well, they're all different, ya'know?" She laughs softly, trying to lighten the mood. "She makes these beautiful trinkets." You smile, saving her before she tells them she makes bombs. She sends you a thankful smile in return.
Your mother clears her throat, dropping her fork and picking up her napkin. "Trickets?" You immediately heard the judgement in her tone as she spoke. "How peculiar." She snickers quietly, and your hand softly squeezes Jinx's thigh again.
"Don't worry about them, baby." You quietly mouth to her with a small smile before changing the topic.
"Y/n, may we speak to you in the other room please?" Your mother's voice rang behind you, grabbing your attention away from talking with Jinx by the tree. You give her a quick peck before following her to the other room, reassuring you'll only be gone a few moments.
"Yes?" You ask, crossing your arms as you reach the next room. "I think you two should... break things off." She says, placing her hands on her hips with a stern look. You scoff in return, shaking your head. "No." Your voice is just as stern as her face, and as you stand up straighter to meet her eye, you can see the shocked look in her face.
"No?" She questions you, eyes wide in anger. "How dare you—" "No, mom. How dare you! I'm not a kid, you can't tell me who to date anymore! You don't get to control who I can and can't love like you do everything else." You finally stick up for yourself, and you hear the gasps from both parents.
"You cannot speak to your mother like that young lady!" Your father chimes in, sticking his finger in your face as he gets closer. "Oh please! She's spoken to me the same way since I was 8 years old, it wouldn't kill her to be treated the same way for once." You roll your eyes before you feel a hand slap your cheek.
You scoff again, grabbing the now burning flesh with your hand before looking her in the eyes. "This is your last chance, Y/n. Break things off with that– street trash, and we can forget about this little outburst of yours. Or, you leave with her and you will get cut off." Your mother stared down at you with narrow eyes, with her jaw clenched in anger.
Tears began to well up in your eyes, but it wasn't because you were sad, no, it was just confirmation settling in. "Okay." You start, wiping your eyes once before standing up straight again. "Goodbye, then." You go turn to walk away when you see Jinx, standing in the doorway with an almost guilty look on her face as she picks at her fingers.
"You turn back around right now!"
You look back at your parents once more before walking towards Jinx and grabbing her hand. "Come on, we're leaving."
You pay no mind to the screaming voices of your mother and father as you walk out of your childhood home. "God, I fucking hate them." You mumbled under your breath.
"I'm really sorry." Jinx speaks up, though you can barely hear her. You stop walking and turn to face her, grabbing her face. "Baby, listen to me." You smile as you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You did nothing wrong, they're just a couple stuck up dicks who can't get their heads out of their asses." You like softly, stroking her cheek with your thumb.
"But they said—" "I don't care what they said. I want to be with you. You make me so happy, I love you, Jinx." Your eyes look into hers as you speak, and you can see the shock hit her when you say it.
"Wh—" She blinks slowly. "What?" It comes out in a whisper, not fully comprehending what was just said. "Y/n. You don't mean that. I'm not good for you– you should just go back." Jinx tries, beginning to walk away while shaking her head.
"Jinx! I don't care what they think. I don't care what anyone thinks. You're more than good for me, baby. I love you." You call out, trying to catch up with her but it's quickly replaced with a deep, passionate kiss as she spins around and her lips crash against your own.
The snow covers you both as you pull away. Jinx takes a breath, closing her eyes before opening them again with her own soft smile. "I love you."
You lean in to kiss her once more, this one quicker than the last. "Let's go home, baby." You kiss her cheek once as you lead the way back to your city.
"Home." She giggles. "I like that."
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this is so short and lowkey horrible im so sorry guys 💔 buttt, merry christmas and happy holidays 💋
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simjaexy · 17 hours ago
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𝙄 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 | 𝙎.𝙅.
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Pairing — Virgin! Sim Jaeyun x Experienced! (F) Reader
Synopsis — Sim Jaeyun had a normal life. He was just a regular guy that worked in a small cafe and made coffee for customers. What he didn’t think was normal though, was that he was a virgin at the age of 22. Embarrassing enough, he never jerked off. Ever. Why you ask? Well, because he didn’t know how to. He watched porn videos from time to time, but never acted upon himself to jerk off. So what happens when he sees you enter the cafe for the first time and is in struck? Will he act upon to ask you out? Or will he scurry away like a puppy because he’s a virgin?
Genre — Crack, Smut, Angst
Warnings — MINORS DNI!!!, Jay and Sunghoon are Jake’s BFFS (saying this as a warning bc they are chaotic asf), Cursing, Reader is big money rich, Arguments, Name calling (Idiot and etc.), Switch! Jake (mostly sub), Jake is a somewhat pervert & awkward mess, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Loss of virginity, Making out, Jake has a big dick, Jake is bad at sex (but it’s ok bc reader helps him <3), Receiving (m&f), Sex (Unprotected, Sloppy, Rough, Cloth), Jerking off, Cum swallowing, Humiliation, Grinding, Eating out, Jake is a pussy drunk, Multiple orgasms, Crying, Hickeys, lmk if i miss anymore!
Wc — 10.7k
A/n — I spell experiment & experience wrong so bear with me. Anyways, happy to say I’m back to making fics! U could kind of tell I gave up on some parts so sorry abt that :/ I also wanted to make it longer BUT oh well (might be a part 2 but who knows)! I hope u guys like this one <3 It was kind of shitty since I had no idea what I was going for but it was worth a shot. If u would like to be on the perm taglist click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, etc.! Not proofread!
masterlist here
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“How do people like extra bitter coffee?”
Sunghoon questioned with a cup of bitter coffee in his hand, holding it close to his face to examine it. Jake, on the other hand, was wiping down the dirty counter. The morning was in full business, and the only thing heard in the cafe was the chatter of customers and the espresso machine. Jake chuckled at Sunghoons comment. He always judged what people ordered and the funny thing is, Sunghoon didn’t like coffee at all. He only applied to work at a cafe was because Jake didn’t wanna be alone. What also came as a moment was when Jay also offered to work too.
He glanced at the next order slip and began preparing a caramel macchiato, his hands moving with ease. They haven’t been working here for a long time, just a few months. They get paid pretty well so Jake really didn’t have nothing to complain about other than the shitty customers that would come around to argue with them. Sunghoon would usually escort them out because Jay would pick a fight. Jake finished the coffee and went up to the front, "Caramel macchiato for Sarah!" Jake called out, placing the drink on the counter. A young woman stepped forward with a grateful smile, taking the coffee from his hands and offering a shy ‘Thank you’. Jake returned the smile before turning back to the next order.
As he made the next coffee, Sunghoon leaned against the counter, letting out a long sigh, "I'm tired already, and it's only been four hours," Sunghoon muttered, rubbing his eyes. Jake watched Sunghoon, noticing the growing eyebags, but didn’t notice them until now in the bright lights. Sunghoons been working overtime lately due to his girlfriend and him recently having a fight. It wasn’t the first one they had, but clearly this was one of the worst ones. That’s what Jake also didn’t like. Fights in relationships.
Jake chuckled softly although he knew Sunghoon was having trouble. The only thing you can do is just comfort, "Don't worry about it. We're almost done. Just a little longer."
Sunghoon groaned, looking at the clock on the wall. The time is ticking slow and dreadful, "I hope so. I can't wait to go home and sleep.”
Jake laughed, shaking his head as he poured steamed milk into a cup, "You'll make it. Just think about that comfy bed waiting for you."
Sunghoon frowned, pushing himself off the counter. "Yeah, that sounds good right about now." He spoke sarcastically.
The two continued their work despite the exhaustion they were both feeling. It was a bit more bearable with having a coworker like Sunghoon by his side. They would joke around about anything together, along with Jay. Speak of the devil, the door to the back room swung open, and there behold Jay with a wide grin on his face.
"Fucking finally!" Jay said, his excitement palpable. "I've been texting back and forth with this girl all morning. She's planning something special for tonight. I bet I’m gonna get laid.”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, "This is like, what? The fifth girl you’ve talked too?Some of us are just trying to survive the day here. And what do you mean all morning? Have you’ve been doing your job?” Sunghoon ranted.
Jay raised his hands up, “It’s not my fault I haven’t had sex in a while. Besides, the last girl I had sex with didn’t want me wearing a condom! I ran out of there before she could say anything else.” He replied.
Sunghoon said something back, but Jake stayed quiet, zoning out. This is when he often felt out of place. He admired Jay's conversation about girls and sex, but couldn't quite relate to it. Sure he had a fair share of doing little dates with some chicks, but each time it always ended up with one of them saying they wanna have sex, which Jake didn’t want at the moment. They would then get mad and upset but can you really blame him?
Jay, oblivious to Sunghoon's irritation, continued, "Seriously, you guys should find someone to fuck. It makes everything so much better. Like, even this job feels less tiring when I know I have something to look forward to later at night."
Sunghoon sighed, shaking his head, "Yeah, yeah, Jay. We get it. You're a horny man. Now, can we please focus on getting through this shift?"
Jay rolled his eyes and scoffed, grabbing an apron, tying it around his waist, "Alright, alright. But seriously, you guys should think about it."
The three of them resumed making coffee and taking orders from customers. Despite the differences in their personalities, Jake thought they worked well together, each bringing something unique to the team. As the last customer left the cafe, the three of them let out a drawn sigh in unison.
Sunghoon stretched his back and let out a noise in satisfaction, “Finally, we can go home.” He hummed. Jake agreed, taking off the apron and hanging it on the hanger.
Jay did the same, “Well I’ll see you guys on Monday then. Boutta get some head.” He said. Sunghoon groaned in disgust.
Jay left while Jake and Sunghoon tidied up the place for the next workers tomorrow. After they finished they stepped out of the cafe with Sunghoon locking the door. The sun was already slowly setting, they should be getting paid for working overtime at this hour. Not many of the employees do.
“I’ll see you Monday?” Sunghoon asked. Jake nodded and smiled. They bid each other goodbye and headed in different directions.
Jake walked along the familiar path from the cafe to his apartment, the weight of the day bearing down on his shoulders. He wished he had a girl to go home too like Sunghoon. He could just imagine seeing her laying on the couch or watching TV in the living room. The closer he got to his apartment, the more the loneliness seeped into his bones. He really did wish for someone, anyone, to be there, but there was no one. Just him and the four walls that enclosed his existence. Finally, he reached his building. He took out his keys as he came face to face with his door and opened it with a click. He entered his apartment, closing the door behind him with a sigh. The silence not making anything better.
He took off his shoes, setting them on a rack near his door and headed straight to his bedroom. Changing into more comfortable clothing, he felt a slight sense of relief, though it did little to lift the heavy feeling in his chest. Deciding to stay distracted, he made his way to his laptop at his desk. He grabbed it and sat comfortably in his bed. He opened his laptop and went on Google, searching pornhub.com. There popped up different websites of porn, and yet none seemed to take his interest. He scrolled through all of them and decided to click on a random one.
Different videos of men and women having sex popped up. He scanned through the tags — missionary, pretzel, doggy style, milfs, young teen, it could go on. He clicked on one that seemed interesting.
Young teen girl getting pussy pounded by Dilf Dad- Very Hot!
Jake watches as the girl was sitting comfortably on a pink bedsheet. Collages of drawings in the background on the white wall. She was wearing a little skirt that showed her whole silk panties. Her hair was in a slick back bun. To Jake, she looked like an innocent girl. Then a man comes into view and faces the girl as she looks up. Jake couldn’t see everything, but he could see the Dad rubbing on the girl's cheek smoothly. She dipped her head closer to his palm, almost as if she was savoring it. Jake didn’t know what else happened before it cut to a scene where the girl was a moaning mess as the Dad fucks her roughly. He pulled her hair making her back arch like a bow. She let out sinful moans and pants leaving Jake wide eyed and wanting to hear more.
He hissed when he felt his computer rub along his now hard cloth dick. He lifted it up and saw his strained sweatpants. He groaned and set his laptop on the side of him and rubbed his dick awkwardly. Fuck, he really doesn’t know what to do. He let in a pitiful whine when he gripped and squeezed it. Just as he was gonna take his dick out of his sweatpants, his phone started ringing with a vibrating sound. He jumped. Who could be calling at this hour? With a sigh, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone. The screen illuminated the room just enough for him to see the caller ID. It was his boss. Jake's heart sank. He had a bad feeling about this call.
"Hello?" He answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.
"Jake, it's me," His boss's voice came through the line, sounding business-like as ever, “Would it be alright if you come into work tomorrow?"
Jake mentally groaned. He had been looking forward to his day off, to catch up on sleep and maybe even relax a little. But he knew he couldn't say no to him, besides, maybe he could get more pay, "Sure, I can do that," He replied, trying to sound more professional than he felt. He hated how good he did.
"Good," His boss said, a hint of relief in his voice, "I'll pay you extra for the trouble. See you in the morning." And with that, the line went dead.
Jake stared at his phone for a moment, feeling frustrated and dry. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and let out a long sigh. His day off had just been snatched away, and the prospect of another grueling day at work now loomed in his mind. He was getting extra pay, so it wasn’t that bad. He looked over at his laptop and noticed the video was over. He scoffed and slammed it shut. He turned over in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly and give him a brief respite from being interrupted from his sexual time.
Jake's alarm blared at 6 AM, jarring him from a restless sleep. He groggily reached over to silence it, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He remembered the late-night call from his boss, and the reality of another workday settled over him like his heavy blanket. He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He turned the nob as hot water poured out. Taking off his clothes- he entered and groaned feeling his muscle ache. After he finished, he dressed in a comfy outfit. He glanced at the clock and saw the time. With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
When Jake arrived at work, he walked through the front counter, nodding at a few of his coworkers as he passed. He wasn’t used to not having Jay and Sunghoon by his side. That’s when he is usually somewhat quiet, but still talks enough for people to know who he is.
"Morning, Jake," One of them called out. He responded with a polite nod and a "Good morning" before continuing on his way.
As he approached his workstation, he saw Seulri, a coworker who had always been talkative towards him, "Hi, Jake!" She said brightly, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.
"Hey, Seulri," Jake replied, forcing a smile. He liked Seulri, she was a girl that he felt like he could talk to anything about. But he knew she had a crush on him, and he just didn't feel the same way.
"I was wondering what you were doing today after work?" She asked, her tone hopeful.
Jake hesitated, searching for an excuse. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he also didn't want to lead her on, “Uh, I've got a lot on my plate today," He said, trying to sound convincing, "I gotta close the shop for the night." It wasn’t whole lie. He did have to close the cafe around night.
Seulri's face fell slightly, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a smile. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need any help, just let me know."
"Thanks, Seulri. I appreciate it," Jake said, feeling a pang of guilt. He watched as she walked away, her shoulders slumped just a bit.
With a heavy guilt, Jake turned to work on a order. He knew he could’ve had a chance to finally get into a relationship, but he wanted someone to know him for him. Not just some person that wants to satisfy him like Seulri. Jay and Sunghoon kept telling him to just fuck it and have sex with her for the hell of it, but clearly they don’t understand what Jake’s wants. What he needs. Jake mentally cursed at himself and focused back on working. He wasn’t gonna think about, at least not for today.
It was around midnight when Jake was wiping down the tables and stacking the chairs. He liked these types of nights where he could just feel the need to relax with nothing on his mind. He was the only one left for the night, his coworkers having left hours ago. With a sigh, he sat down on an open chair behind the front counter. Deciding to take a break, he opened his phone and checked through his messages. He took sight of the group chat he had with Jay and Sunghoon called ‘The 02zzzz’ and opened it.
Sunghoon: [Link]
Sunghoon: You guys gotta check this out.
Jay: Wow, that’s hot.
Sunghoon: Ikr
Jake eyebrows furrowed before clicking the link. The link took him to safari and there popped up a video. Jake could already tell it was a porn video just from the looks of it. He clicked play and almost immediately it showed a girl sucking a guys dick hungrily. Jay was definitely not wrong, it was fucking hot. How the hell does Sunghoon find these videos? Jake liked the message and shut his phone off. Just then the bell let out a ‘ding’ upon someone coming in. Jake mentally groaned and got up from the sturdy chair, pushing it to the side. He rolled his sleeves as he stared up and that’s when he felt the air get knocked out his lungs. There standing in front of him was a beautiful girl that looked about in her 20’s. Jake felt his mouth going dry from staring. She was beautiful.. and hot. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gave Jake a sweet smile. Yeah, he was done for.
“Hi! I hope your not closing soon,” She spoke, her voice sound as pretty as her face, “I just wanted a black coffee if that’s fine.”
Jake blinked once, twice before nodding slow. He shook his head. Get your ass together! He already felt like he was embarrassing himself enough by just staring at her. Wait, was his eyes averting to her tits?
“Oh! Yeah sure no problem, that’ll be $3.75.” He replied. The girl sighed in relief and pulled out her wallet, Jake wondered if she had been going all around town looking for an open coffee shop. Then again, he wasn’t particularly open either.
She extended her hand out with money which Jake took, he felt himself shiver when he felt her soft hands touch his. They were soft and smooth, almost as if she putted lotion before coming in here. Jake opened the cashier register and gave back a few change, “It’ll be done shortly.” He smiled. She nodded and went to take a seat not far from him.
He started measuring out the perfect amount of water, tamping it down with just the right amount of pressure, and locking the portafilter into the machine. As the hot water began to flow through the grounds, he glanced up back at the girl. She was rummaging through her bag, pulling out a laptop, a stack of papers, and a planner. Was she staying for a long time? Jake averted his eyes to the time. It wasn’t that late, but he is gonna be closing soon. He turned back towards her and as he watched her work, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, a sign of sleepless nights and long hours. It reminded him of Sunghoons. Her outfit was sharp and professional, a tailored blazer over a crisp blouse, paired with sleek trousers. As he steamed the milk, he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. Must be Jay and Sunghoon. He grabbed his phone and checked curiously.
Jay: Fuck guys, I just had the best sex ever
Sunghoon: Tf? We don’t wanna know that
Sunghoon: … Was it good?
Jay: The fucking best, she was definitely experienced
Sunghoon: Damn, now I wanna fuck my girl
Jay: No one stopping you
Sunghoon: Yeah, she is. Still mad at me.
Jay: Must suck
Sunghoon: Everyday
Jake putted his phone away when he the machine stopped indicating it was done. He took the coffee out and poured it into a cup. He put a plastic top over it before setting it down on the counter. The girl noticed and got up to grab it. Maybe this could be the chance to talk to someone, “Rough day?" Jake asked.
The girl stared up at him surprised before chuckling softly. Jesus, even her laugh was pretty, “You could say that.”
Jake hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you perhaps a businesswoman?"
She nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. She let out a relaxed hum. Jake felt himself smiling before she stared at him, “Yes, I am. How did you guess?"
Jake shrugged, trying to play it cool. He wondered if he’s doing a good job at it, "Just a hunch. You look like someone who works hard and could use a good cup of coffee."
She laughed softly, it sounded like music to his ears, “You have no idea. This is exactly what I needed. Thank you."
As she went back to her seat with her unfinished work, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. They barely spoke and yet Jake already felt a connection. Is this what love at first sight feels like? Cause if it is then sign him the fuck up. He wants to feel that all the time. He watched her eyebrows furrow while looking at a few papers before flipping to the next ones. Maybe if he actually had some balls he could distract her and make her feel better about whatever she was stressing about. But what if she doesn’t want to be distracted?
Jake mentally groaned at himself, he really is bad at this. He mind as well just tell her he’s closing since it’s already been a few minutes. As he was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a little someone coming up to the counter, “Excuse me,” Her voice said. Jake whipped his head up and mustered up a nice smile. Shit, did she catch him thinking? She took out her wallet and pulled out around $20. Jake frowned and stared up at her.
“For letting me stay here even though you’re closing.” She spoke, “I noticed when I walked in you guys were supposed to close about five minutes ago.”
Jake nodded and stared back down at the money. Damn it was a lot. And with the extra pay coming to his check? He could go out drinking with the guys, but then again she didn’t need to give him money, “It’s no worries. Keep it.” He smiled.
She frowned, “Well now you’re making me feel bad. You’re working overtime because of me.”
“I was working overtime either way. I’m a slow cleaner.” Jake responded. He wasn’t really lying. She slowly nodded and put her money back in her wallet. Louis Vuitton wallet. Oh, she’s rich rich.
“Well, is there anything I can pay you back aside from money then?” She spoke. Her voice laced with concern. Jake gulped. This was his chance to hit it with a ‘a date would be nice’, but clearly she doesn’t look interested in him, right? Jake felt his heart pacing with each thought. Fuck it.
“M-Maybe a date.” He blurted out. Fucking. Stupid. Voice. Did he really just stutter? The girl blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the sudden sentence. Yeah, Jake was definitely gonna dig himself in a hole. He was gonna take back what he said until a little giggle was heard from the girl.
“I didn’t expect that, but sure. Why not?” She chimed. Jake felt himself freeze in place. She said yes. She said yes? She said yes! Jake felt like punching the air in victory but kept his composure.
“Really? Wow- I mean- That’s cool. Cool.” He replied. She laughed making Jake feel even more embarrassed. Has he always been this awkward? He wouldn’t be surprised if she changed her mind.
“ Well if we’re going on a date, you have to give me your number first." She said. Her smile never dropping. Jake's eyes widened in surprise. Right. How could he forget? He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking slightly. He awkwardly handed it to you, unable to find his voice. You took it, entered your number, and handed it back.
"Text me," She said softly, "and we'll set something up."
"Okay," he managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of relief and excitement.
She went back to the table and gathered her stuff and walked out of the café. As she glanced back, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart pang out of his chest. He can’t believe he picked up a beautiful girl all because he had the balls to do it. She gave him a wink, and that’s when she disappeared as she walked out of his view. Jake probably looked like an idiot, but he probably looked more of an idiot when he immediately took out his phone and checked her information.
L/n Y/n. That’s your name. Jake felt himself smiling at his phone like a weirdo. He has to tell the guys this. He typed the group chat name and clicked it.
Jake: You guys won’t believe what just fucking happened.
Sunghoon: You finally made matcha?
Jake: Even better, I asked a girl out and she’s fucking hot.
Jay: No way dude. I told you you can do it!
Jake: Jesus christ I’m scared. What if she thinks I’m weird for being a virgin at this age?
Sunghoon: Shit
Jay: Fuck
Jay: I completely forgot you’re a virgin.
���
Jake: Yeah I’m fucked.
To say the least, it wasn’t really Jake’s fault for not texting you at all for the past two days. What if you were waiting for him to text? You most likely were, but Jake felt like a complete idiot for even thinking you weren’t. Jay and Sunghoon tried to help out with texting you, as in saying ‘hey how about we just go on that date and see where it goes? No sex!’ but clearly that wasn’t gonna do any better. That’s also what you most likely wanted too. And Jay and Sunghoon know Jake would happily comply without saying he’s a virgin. To what Jay said, virgins are the last thing girls want to have sex with. They like experienced men. Men that would actually blow their back out. And yet, Jake wasn’t like that at all. He was a guy who never jerked off before and most likely never will.
“Dude you’re fucking fried if you don’t say anything soon.” Sunghoon said. It was already the afternoon when Sunghoon decided to break the silence with Jake’s situationship. Jake groaned and put his face in his hands.
“I don’t blame her if she’s probably getting pussy pounded by another dude by now.” Jay added. Sunghoon elbowed him. Jake glared at him even though he wasn’t really wrong.
“I don’t know. What if I just cancel it?” Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What if I mess up- well I already did. What if she doesn't like me?"
Jay shook his head firmly, “No way, Jake. This is your chance to show her who you really are. You can't back out now. Who cares if you’re a virgin? I know I said they like experienced men- which is not a lie, but hey, maybe she likes inexperienced guys?”
Sunghoon nodded in agreement, "Jay's right. But if you really don't want to go, you don't have to force yourself. Just be honest with her."
Jake sighed, clearly torn. They both weren’t wrong. Maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe you did like inexperienced guys, "I just don't know what to do."
Jay patted Jake’s shoulder firmly, “Dude, just try.” He said. And when Sunghoon gave him a firm look, Jake knew himself what he was gonna do.
It was a lot harder than expected. He was debating whether you’re a caller or a texter. Would it be weird to randomly call you instead? Fuck, but to hear your voice would be amazing. So that’s exactly what Jake did. He typed in your name and clicked on it. His finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. He took a deep breath before clicking it. The line was silent for a few seconds before you answered.
“Hello?” You questioned. Jake suddenly felt the words he was gonna say disappear. You said it again as Jake shook his head.
“H-Hi! This is Y/n?” He stirred. He mentally slapped himself for asking an obvious question. A light giggle came from the other side.
“This is. Is this the barista I gave my number too?” You joked. If it weren’t for your pretty voice Jake would be assuming you were making fun of him.
“Yeah, it’s Jake.” He mumbled. You hummed against the line making him shiver.
“Didn’t expect you to call. I’m glad you did though.” You let out a breathy laugh. Jake nodded his head as if you could see him, “Well, did you wanna talk about the date?”
“Yeah, I did. I was wondering if you wanna go tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.” He said. He could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest when you were silent.
“Okay. Tomorrow it is!” You agreed. He let out a sigh of relief. It was perfect.
“Okay, see you then!” He replied. You gave a small ‘bye’ before hanging up. Jake tossed his phone on the bed and smiled. He was not gonna fuck this up.
Maybe he was. It wasn’t even a minute when Jay busted through his apartment door at nine in the morning with a tired Sunghoon by his side. Apparently when Jake goes on dates it’s a routine to help him with his clothes. He watched as Jay scanned through his clothing in his messy closet while Sunghoon was sleeping on his bed. Jake doesn’t remember telling them they can just do this.
“We definitely need to go shopping after your date.” Jay mumbled, but Jake heard the whole thing.
“Let’s not talk about your style old grandpa.” Jake scoffed. He rolled his eyes when Jay ignored him by sliding the hangers louder. He stared over at Sunghoon sound asleep, “Why did you even bring Sunghoon along?”
Jay stopped sliding the hangers and turned around, letting out a deep sigh, “He wanted to come. Him and his girlfriend are still fighting.”
Jake eyebrows furrowed. Seriously, it was getting out of hand. Is he seriously get no night rest with her? Jake tucked the blanket up to Sunghoon chest who let out a little snore. Jay was staring pitifully. It was quiet for a few seconds, not one of them talking until Jake’s phone started ringing.
“Bro, why is your phone ringing? Aren’t you going to answer?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow. Jake glanced at the screen, and his heart did a flip when he saw your name. He scrambled to sit up, muttering, “Oh my god,” before frantically swiping to answer the call. Jay watched the whole chaos unfold.
“Hello?!” Jake practically screamed into the phone, his voice cracking slightly. Jay gave him a look that was equal parts amused and disappointed, mouthing, ‘chill dude’. Jake gulped harshly waiting for you to say something.
“Uh… hey,” You said on the other end, sounding slightly startled by his volume, “Just wondering… when are you gonna pick me up?”
Jake slapped a hand over his forehead, realizing he hadn’t even started getting ready yet. This was Jays fault, “Oh! Uh, soon! I just—I need to, um, get dressed real quick.”
There was a pause, and then your soft laugh, “Okay. Just let me know when you’re on your way, and I’ll text you the address.”
“Cool, cool,” Jake stammered, nodding furiously even though you couldn’t see him, “I’ll—I’ll let you know. Yeah.”
As soon as he hung up, Jay let out a sigh and leaned back on the closet door, shaking his head, “Man, that was painful to watch.”
Jake shot him a glare, “What? I answered, didn’t I?”
“Barely. You sounded like you just found out you won the lottery or something,” Jay teased, “Get it together, Romeo.”
Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. He needs to practice to not look like a complete weirdo towards you. It’s more embarrassing knowing that one of his friends watched the whole thing, “Shut up. I need to figure out what I’m wearing.”
Jay watched as Jake sprinted towards his closet, muttering to himself about shirts and jackets, “This is why you’re single, dude,” Jay spoke. He heard Jake letting out a little protest but saying nothing else.
His phone let out a ‘ping!’ and as he snatched it off the bed he saw you send your address. You don’t live too far which is a good thing. Jake liked the message before he felt a heavy feeling on his back. He rolled over to feel a clothes on his back.
“Wear that. It’s better than nothing.” Jay spoke. Jake grabbed the clothing and scanned them. A slim fit blue cotton sweater with black pants. Surprisingly it didn’t look like bad outfit. Jake didn’t say anything else when he headed to the bathroom to change into it.
Jake emerged from the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he stepped into his room, “Alright,” He announced, standing in front of Jay with an expectant look, “What do you think?”
Jay, who had been scrolling through his phone, glanced up—and then did a double take. He raised his eyebrows. It was definitely a nice outfit. Made by Jay obviously.
“Huh,” Jay said, a smirk creeping onto his face, “I’m surprised.”
Jake blinked, “Surprised?”
“Yeah,” Jay replied, sitting back on the bed, “Surprised it actually looks good. But then again, not surprised. I’m a genius when it comes to this stuff.”
Jake rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, “Right. Thanks for your expert opinion,” He muttered, heading toward his closet to grab a pair of matching shoes.
Jay watched as Jake slipped them on, tying the laces with a focused expression, “You nervous or something?”
“No,” Jake lied quickly, straightening up and brushing his hands over his pants, “I think I’m ready.”
“Hold up,” Jay said, getting up and rummaging through a small drawer by the TV. A second later, he tossed something at Jake.
Jake caught it, frowning as he realized it was a pair of glasses, “What’s this for?”
Jay shrugged, “They’ll pull the whole look together. Trust me.”
Jake hesitated, then slid the glasses on. He turned toward the mirror near the door, adjusting them as he took in his reflection, “… Okay, not bad,” he admitted.
“Not bad?” Jay scoffed, “You look like you just stepped out of a catalog. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Jake laughed under his breath, he couldn’t be more grateful for Jay at these times. He grabbed his keys from the counter, “Alright, I’m heading out. Are you guys gonna be staying by the time I get back?”
Jay gave him a mock salute, leaning back on the bed again, “Good luck, lover boy. And no, most likely not, I’ll wake Sunghoon up soon and maybe get him breakfast.”
Jake shot him a grin. He shook his head, stepping out the door and heading toward his car, his heart pounding a little harder than he’d like to admit. Once he started the car he went right to your house. Jake drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the GPS on his phone as he followed the directions to your house. The drive had been quiet, save for the faint hum of his playlist in the background, but as he turned into your neighborhood, he couldn’t help but sit up straighter.
The houses here were massive.
Each one seemed more impressive than the last—pristine lawns, tall gates, sleek cars in driveways. Jake felt his brows furrow as he passed by what looked like a mansion with marble columns. If you were this rich, why would agree to go on a date with someone like him? You could practically be dating millionaires! It kind of reminded him of Jays house. Jays house 0.2?
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, double-checking the address you’d sent him. When he finally reached your house, he froze, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Your house was huge, the kind of place he’d only seen in movies. The front yard alone was immaculate, with perfectly trimmed hedges and a fountain in the center of the driveway.
He pulled his car up to the curb, feeling suddenly out of place in his old but reliable sedan. He sat there for a moment, staring up at the house in awe before shaking his head. Jake grabbed his phone and called you, his palms a little sweaty for reasons he couldn’t explain.
“Hey,” he said when you picked up, “Uh, I’m here.”
“Okay, I’ll be out in a second,” You replied, your voice soft and calm.
Jake hung up, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his rearview mirror. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when you stepped out the front door, it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You looked stunning. The way you carried yourself, the way the evening light hit your features—it was almost unfair. Jake watched as you walked toward his car, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his heart thudded in his chest.
You opened the passenger door, slipping inside with a shy smile, “Hi,” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Jake didn’t respond right away. He was too busy staring, his brain struggling to come up with something—anything—to say. Up close, you were even prettier than he remembered, and it was doing things to his ability to form coherent thoughts.
“Hi,” He finally managed, his voice coming out a little rougher than he intended. You glanced at him, your smile widening slightly, and Jake felt like he was going to lose it. Fuck, you looked so hot.
He cleared his throat, quickly looking away as he started the car, “Uh, you—you look really nice,” He said, mentally kicking himself for how lame that sounded.
“Thank you,” You replied, your cheeks flushing as you glanced out the window. Jake stole another quick glance at you as he pulled away from the curb, wondering how he was supposed to focus on driving when you were sitting right there, looking like that.
The drive was silent but comfortable. He gave you a few looks as you stared out the window quietly. He assumed he should talk more when he gets to the restaurant since you looked so peaceful. He was hoping to God it wasn’t too expensive since he’s quit low on money as embarrassing as it sounds since it was Jays recommendations.
Jake pulled his car into the parking lot of a sleek, upscale restaurant, the golden glow of its soft lighting spilling through its large windows. He parked near the entrance, cutting the engine before glancing at you. You were staring at the building, your eyes wide with surprise, “This place looks… really nice,” You said, your voice tinged with awe.
Jake scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little nervous, “Yeah, I thought you might like it,” He said casually, though he’d spent way too long talking to Jay about ones that looked impressive but wouldn’t completely destroy his wallet.
You smiled at him, and it was the kind of smile that made him feel like he’d done something right for the first time, “I do. It’s perfect.”
Relieved, Jake got out of the car and quickly moved to your side to open the door for you. You stepped out gracefully, and the two of you walked toward the restaurant together, the soft sound of your shoes clicking against the pavement. Inside, the restaurant was even more elegant than it looked from the outside.
The low hum of conversation and soft instrumental music created an intimate atmosphere, and the warm lighting cast a golden glow over the polished wooden tables. Jake led you to the hostess, and soon enough, you were seated at a cozy table by the window. The two of you looked through the menus briefly before the waiter came to take your order, and the conversation flowed easily with the waiter as you waited for your food to arrive.
When the waiter finally brought your meals, the dishes were plated so beautifully it almost seemed like a shame to eat them, “This looks amazing,” You said, your eyes lighting up as you picked up your fork.
Jake smiled, watching your expression, “Yeah, definitely worth the drive.”
You took a bite, your face softening in delight. Jake chuckled at your cute expression, “Wow. Okay, this is really good.”
Jake took a bite of his own food and nodded in agreement, “They weren’t kidding about this place. I think I’m gonna start coming here every week.”
You laughed softly, “You’re really into food, huh?”
“Are you kidding? Food is, like, my love language,” Jake said, leaning back slightly, “Good food can fix almost anything.”
“Fair point,” you said, twirling your fork around your plate, “But if food’s your love language, what’s your hate language?”
Jake tilted his head thoughtfully like a puppy, “Cold coffee,” He said without missing a beat.
You burst out laughing, and Jake grinned, watching you, “Seriously, though. When someone orders an iced latte and lets it sit until the ice melts, I feel like I’ve failed them as a barista.”
“Iced lattes are your nemesis?” You teased, still giggling.
“Don’t underestimate how serious this is,” Jake replied, pretending to be solemn.
The two of you laughed together, and the conversation flowed easily as you continued eating. You asked him about his work, and he told you a funny story about a customer who ordered a “cappuccino but with no foam” and then got mad when it wasn’t a latte. By the time the plates were cleared, Jake felt like the two of you had been in your own little bubble, laughing and talking like old friends.
When you left the restaurant, the air outside was cool and refreshing. Jake walked beside you toward his car, his hands in his pockets. Once you were back inside, he hesitated for a moment before glancing over at you.
“So,” He started, turning the key in the ignition but not driving just yet, “Since I’ve, uh… seen … seen your house now…” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said, glancing at you quickly before looking back at the steering wheel, “What do you do for a living?”
You smiled knowingly, leaning back in your seat,“You were right,” You said, your tone playful, “I’m a businesswoman. I work in an office building with my friend. We run a consulting firm together.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up, “Seriously? That’s… wow. No wonder you’re living like that.”
You chuckled softly, “Yeah, I get paid pretty well. It’s a good gig.”
Jake nodded, clearly impressed. Damn, you had it good, “That’s really cool. Like, actually really cool.”
You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before smiling again, “I think it’s cool that you’re a barista,” You said sincerely.
Jake blinked, caught off guard, “Me? Nah, it’s not that impressive,” He mumbled, suddenly feeling shy as he looked down at the steering wheel again.
“I’m serious,” You insisted, “It’s such a unique job, and it suits you. I bet you’re really good at it.”
Jake’s ears burned, and he couldn’t fight the sheepish smile spreading across his face, “Thanks,” He muttered, feeling like he was seventeen all over again.
You laughed softly, and Jake finally pulled out of the parking lot, his heart lighter than it had been in a while. As he drove back to your house he couldn’t help but laugh every time you pulled off a joke. You would giggle every time he told you a funny story about his friends. It was all too perfect to him. He didn’t want the night to end.
But sadly he soon got to your house and parks on the curb. It was silent for few minutes when you offered him a smile, “It was nice having this date with you. I mean, I didn’t know you were this fun.” You joked.
Jake chuckled, “You’d be surprised.” He replied earning another pretty laugh of yours. It was a few seconds of silence when you made eye contact with him. Jake did the same, though he noticed you were not looking at his eyes anymore, but his lips. He felt his heart pounding against his chest.
“I think you should-“ You cut him off by smashing your lips against his. It wasn’t dramatic or planned, just a soft, tentative kiss that felt like the most natural thing in the world. But Jake didn’t move. His lips didn’t press back into yours, and his entire body tensed as if someone had hit pause on him.
You pulled back, confused, your brow furrowing as you searched his face. He was staring at you, wide-eyed, his cheeks flushed a deep red, “Jake,” You said softly, your voice careful, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” He blurted, a little too quickly. His eyes darted everywhere except to yours, “I’m—I’m fine. You should, uh—you should go.”
The words must’ve hit you like a cold splash of water, “Go?”
Jake nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white, “Yeah, I think—uh, I think you should leave.”
You blinked, your heart sinking, “Did I… did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Jake said quickly, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted you to think was that you did something wrong, “It’s not that. It’s just…” He trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip as if the words were physically stuck in his throat.
“Just what?” You pressed gently, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake hesitated, his face twisting in frustration before he finally blurted, “I can’t kiss.”
You stared at him, taken aback, “What?”
“I’ve never kissed anyone before, okay?” He said, his voice rising slightly before he looked away, embarrassed, “I didn’t know what to do, and I—I froze, and now it’s just weird.”
“Jake,” You started, but he cut you off.
“It’s better if you just go,” He said quickly, his voice quiet now, almost resigned. He still couldn’t look at you, “Seriously.”
He could tell you didn’t want to leave—not like this—but he sat there, closed off and distant, making it clear he wasn’t ready for this conversation.
“Okay,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly, “I’ll go.”
Jake didn’t move, didn’t even look at you as you made your way to the door. You paused for a moment, your hand on the handle, most likely hoping he might say something, anything, to stop you. But he didn’t. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily in his chest. He watched as you opened your door and shut it without looking back. He didn’t blame you at all.
Inside, Jake buried his face in his hands, his stomach twisting with guilt. He didn’t want you to leave, but he couldn’t get past the knot of insecurity and shame tightening in his chest. He was fucking stupid. Why was he such an embarrassment. Jay was right. No girl would like a guy who is inexperienced. A few seconds he started the car and drove back to his house.
Once he got there it was dark and cold. He slammed his bedroom shut and lay on his bed in his date clothes. He didn’t even think about messaging his friends about what happened. He was too embarrassed. Neither did he messaged you an apology. You probably already blocked him. And he would have no other choice but to accept it.
Jake stood behind the counter at the cafe, aimlessly wiping a perfectly clean section of the countertop for what felt like the hundredth time. The usual clatter of mugs, the hum of conversation, and the hiss of the espresso machine buzzed around him, but he barely registered any of it. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on the events of the night before.
“Jake!”
He flinched, his hand freezing mid-wipe as Jay’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jay was leaning against the espresso machine, a latte cup in hand, watching him with a raised brow. Shit, did Jay noticed he was wiping the same place over and over? Before he could say anything, Jay cut him to it, clearly upset.
“What’s up with you?” Jay asked, tilting his head. His voice was a bit gentler than Jake was expecting, “You’ve been zoning out all morning. You didn’t even react when I stole that tip you left on the counter.”
Jake blinked, confused, “Wait, what tip?”
Jay snorted, “Exactly. You’re out of it, man. So… how’d the date go?”
Jake glanced at him and then quickly looked away, focusing on folding a towel, “Fine,” He said flatly. Jake felt a lump forming in his throat just remembering the vents from last night.
Jay set his cup down with a loud clink, “Fine? That’s it? You’re acting like someone ran over your dog, and all I get is ‘fine’? Spill it, Jake. What happened?”
“Nothing,” Jake muttered, keeping his eyes on the towel.
From the other end of the counter, Sunghoon appeared, balancing a tray of mugs. He raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down, “What’s going on?”
“Jake’s being weird,” Jay said, gesturing toward him, “He says the date was ‘fine,’ but he’s been moping around all morning like it wasn’t fine.”
Sunghoon looked at Jake, who was now scrubbing the same spot on the counter he’d been wiping earlier, “Jake,” Sunghoon said carefully, “Did she do something that made you uncomfortable?”
Jake froze for a moment before shaking his head. He knew Sunghoon would have his back if anything, “No. It wasn’t her. It was… me.”
Jay frowned, “You? What do you mean?”
Jake hesitated, gripping the towel tightly, “She kissed me,” He said quietly, his face heating up.
Jay’s eyes widened and let out a him, clearly not getting what the fuck was wrong, “Okay, that sounds like a good thing. Why are you acting like it wasn’t?”
Jake sighed, feeling the weight of their stares, “Because I panicked. I didn’t kiss her back. And then I told her I couldn’t kiss, and I—” He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “I told her she should leave.”
Sunghoon set the tray down slowly, his expression unreadable, “You told her to leave?”
Jake nodded miserably. Jay stared at him for a moment before letting out a low whistle, “Wow. That’s bad. That’s kind of embarrassing.”
Sunghoon immediately elbowed him in the side, “Jay!”
“What? I’m just being honest!” Jay said defensively. Jake didn’t respond, his shoulders slumping as he folded the towel into a perfect square.
“Okay, but seriously,” Sunghoon said, his tone softer now, “Why’d you panic? You like her, right?”
Jake let out a humorless laugh? “Of course I like her. That’s the problem. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I freaked out. Now she probably thinks I don’t like her or that I’m some kind of idiot.”
Jay leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, “Dude, you’re overthinking this. Freaking out over your first kiss? That’s normal. It doesn’t make you an idiot.”
Jake shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. I made it weird. She left, and now I don’t even know if I should text her or what I’d even say.”
Sunghoon leaned against the counter beside him, “Be honest,” He said simply, “Tell her why you reacted the way you did. She kissed you for a reason—she likes you. If you explain, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
Jake frowned, still uncertain, “You really think she’d want to hear from me after that?”
Jay nudged him lightly, “Absolutely. Just don’t overthink it, man. If you wait too long, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”
Jay was right. He was already crazy enough for letting you go like that. He nodded and gave them a small smile. He’ll make it happen today. He’ll apologize to you today. So, as soon as his shift ended, Jake didn’t bother going home to change or unwind. He got in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove toward your house. His mind raced with what he would say.
“I’m sorry.” Too simple.
“I panicked because I didn’t want to mess up.” Too revealing.
“I don’t know how to kiss because I’ve never been with anyone.” He winced at that thought. He didn’t want to come off as pathetic.
The drive was short, but it felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into your neighborhood, the looming houses made him feel like he was stepping into another world. They were big—bigger than anything he’d ever known—and it reminded him of just how different your lives were. He pulled up to your driveway, the size of your house making his stomach twist again. Shutting off the engine, Jake took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. You’ve got this. Just explain yourself and hope for the best, he thought.
He climbed out of the car, made his way to your front door, and knocked. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited. Seconds felt like hours, and just as he was starting to wonder if you weren’t home, the door opened.
But it wasn’t you.
Jake blinked in surprise, his brain struggling to process who stood before him. It was Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Wait, what the fuck?
“What… what are you doing here?” Jake stammered.
She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, “I should be asking you the same thing.”
Jake opened his mouth, closed it, then managed to say, “I’m here to see Y/n? She lives here right?”
The words had barely left his lips when you appeared behind her, your eyes widening at the sight of him, “Jake?” You questioned.
“Hey,” He said awkwardly, shifting on his feet.
Sunghoon’s girlfriend glanced between the two of you, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips, “Well, this just got interesting,” She said, stepping aside to let you take over.
You hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door wider, “Come in.”
Jake stepped inside, his hands shoved into his pockets. The awkwardness in the air was thick, but before he could say anything, he turned back to Sunghoon’s girlfriend, “Wait—what are you doing here?”
She leaned casually against the wall, looking amused, “I could ask you the same thing again, but fine. I’m here because I’m her friend.”
Jake blinked, looking between her and you, “Since when have you two been friends?”
“Since we started working together,” She said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Jake stared at her, his mouth slightly open in surprise. He had no idea you worked together. Neither did he knew Sunghoon was interested in bitches like her. Before he could ask more, she clapped her hands together.
“Well, I was just leaving,” She said, grabbing her bag from the couch. She gave you a quick hug, then shot Jake a teasing look as she passed him, “Good luck.”
Jake stood there for a moment, stunned. He wanted to ask a hundred questions about her being here, but he decided to focus on the real reason he’d come. He turned to you, his nerves suddenly crashing down on him.
“So,” You said softly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the arm of the couch, “Why are you here?”
Jake scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze, “I, uh, wanted to talk about yesterday.”
You straightened, your expression cautious, “Okay.”
Jake took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at you, “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I acted.”
Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, letting him continue, “I panicked,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, “I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt like an idiot. So instead of saying something, I just pushed you away.”
Your lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across your face, “Jake…”
He shook his head quickly, cutting you off, “I know it was dumb. I shouldn’t have done that. And I understand if you’re upset or if you don’t want to see me again, but I just couldn’t leave things the way they were. I like you. A lot. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t because of how I acted.”
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, you stepped closer, your expression softening, “Jake,” You said gently, “I’m not upset. I was just… confused. I didn’t understand why you reacted the way you did.”
He looked at you, relief washing over him like a wave, “You’re not mad?”
You shook your head, “No. I wish you’d told me sooner, but I get it now. And for the record,” You added with a small smile, “I like you too.”
Jake’s face flushed, his heart skipping a beat, “You do?”
You laughed softly, “Yes, Jake. I do.”
He let out a shaky breath, a smile tugging at his lips, “Okay. Good. Because I really want to try again. If you’re okay with that.”
“I’d like that,” You said, your smile growing. Jake felt like a little kid having a crush for the first time. You extended your hand out, waiting for him to grab it. He did and you escorted him to your living room.
It wasn’t a second when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and stared at him seductively. Fuck, he’s really gonna do this. You closed your eyes and leaned in, Jake did the same. That’s when he felt your lips finally connecting. It was slow and gentle, as if he was gonna runaway again, but he wasn’t. He moved his lips slowly against yours, matching the pace. You let out a noise when he gripped your neck tightly.
Who knew your lips felt fucking amazing against his. His other hand rubbed against your open waist from your crop top. He suddenly let out a surprised whine when you gripped his dick. You froze and broke the kiss, your saliva connecting together, “D-Did you just whine?” You asked breathlessly.
Jake shoved his face in your neck, “Please, don’t make fun of me.” He whimpered. Your eyes went wide at the sudden tone of his voice. It was quiet and submissive. You then let out a little chuckle.
“Don’t worry. It was hot.” You admitted. Jake sighed when he felt you tug at his hair. He stared at you and gave you another peck on the lips. You slowly pushed him towards your couch as he fell back on it. You got on top of him and kissed him again, feeling his dick harden underneath.
He let out whines and moans feeling you grind so good against him. He never felt this type of pleasure before. You let out quiet moans as you bucked your hips. You lowered your head to his neck and softly sucked on it. Jake felt too much at the same time, he felt like he was gonna cum.
“Agh!- wait a minute!” He whined. You stopped sucking and looked up at him confused. He let out a shaky sigh, “I don’t wanna cum soon.”
You blinked. A smile was forming on your lips, “Why? Wanna cum inside me instead?” You purred. Jake eyes widened. Your mouth is so fucking nasty. He loves it a little too much.
“Y-Yes! Wanna cum inside.” He sighed. You lifted yourself up a bit and unbuckled his pants. He felt himself feeling more urgent the way you slowly undid his pants. He lifted his hips up to help you have access to his boxers. You lowered towards his cloth dick and rubbed it.
Jake threw his head back and let out a strangle moan. You gripped it, squeezed it, and stroke it. It all made Jake feel so dizzy and yet so good. You finally lowered his boxers revealing his dick, “Holy shit.” You mumbled. He was huge. Jake shyly covered himself with his arm making you giggle.
You gripped his dick and softly stroke it before spitting on it. Jake gasped when he felt your saliva trickling down his shaft and let out a cry when you suddenly engulfed his dick in your mouth. You gagged a bit feeling him hit the back of your throat. Jake eyes rolled back feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned around it and bobbed your head slowly trying to get used to the feeling. Jake gripped your hair and held you in place.
“Hah- M’gonna cum!” He cried out. Ghat didn’t stop you though. You took his hand off your head and went faster. Jake bucked his hips making you gag again, but the pain felt good. His orgasm came faster than he was expecting. Cumming deep in your mouth. What shocked him was when you swallowed everything easily. You took his dick out of your mouth and licked your lips.
Fuck, you were gonna be the death of him, “You taste good.” You said. As if it was the most normal thing to say after an intense blowjob. Jake breathed unevenly and gave you a sloppy smile. Round two of a blowjob didn’t sound bad.
You took off your shirt and unclipping your bra revealing your perky tits. Jake felt himself drooling staring at them. You giggled and grabbed his hands, putting them right on your tits. Jake cursed and gripped them softly. You bit your lip to suppress a moan. You began grinding again and let out a whimper feeling his tip hit your clit perfectly. One of Jake’s hand gripped your tit while the other helped you move your hips. You felt like you were gonna cum just from this.
You suddenly stop causing Jake to look up at you dazed, “Don’t wanna cum like this.” You stated. You got off of him and took off your underwear. With your pussy finally in view, Jake already felt like he was gonna cum the second time. You got back on top of him and grabbed his dick, aligning it at your entrance. You slowly sunk down and breathed out. He felt so big inside you. Is he gonna fit all the way? Your eyes teared up a little making Jake stare worriedly.
“D-Does it hurt? We can stop-“
“No! I’m fine. J-Just getting used to your size.” You panted. When he was fully inside you slowly grind getting used to the size. Jake had his head back feeling your velvet walls squeeze him so tight. You were so wet.
“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again.” Jake whispered.
You shook your head, “Try to hold it, please.” And who was Jake to say no? You began slowly going up and down, your moans now getting louder by each second. Jake gripped your hips and helped you. He bit his lip feeling you milk his dick.
The sound of skin slapping and moans bouncing off the walls made Jake realize he was actually fucking somebody. His moans suddenly got louder when you began bouncing faster, your tits jiggling everyone your pussy took his whole dick in. Your pussy was practically throbbing around him.
“Shit! Jake! Gonna cum!” You cried. Jake held your hips and started fucking you from below. You let out scream when you finally came all over his dick. He whimpered and went faster. He thrusted five more times before cumming deep inside you.
You panted against his neck as he slipped his dick out of your leaking pussy causing you to whine. You laid there breathless while Jake twirled a strand of your hair, “Sorry, was I too rough?”
You giggled, “You were perfect.”
He smiled and hugged your waist, “I’m glad you were my first.” He mumbled in your ear. You hummed and closed your eyes. It was silent for a few seconds before Jake asked a question.
“Have you ever got eaten out before?” He asked. You glanced at him and slightly shook your head.
“I haven’t. I’ve seen videos but-“ Before you could say anything else Jake suddenly flipped you over making you lay on your back with him on top of you, “Jake! What are you-“
He didn’t say anything when he lifted your legs over his shoulders. You shook your head frantically, “W-Wait Jake! I’m still sensitive!” You reasoned. But it went in Jake’s ear out the other when he lowered his face to your pussy.
No, he hasn’t ate pussy before, but he watched enough videos to know what he’s doing. He opened your folds with his fingers making you let out a surprised gasp before you felt his hot tongue lick you bud. You arched your back and whimpered at the new feeling. Jake licked and sucked your hole harshly, your pussy producing more slick from the pleasurable sensation. You felt tears gather in your eyes feeling overstimulated but not wanting him to stop.
You felt your orgasm coming and gripped Jake’s head, “Hng!- J-Jake I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. You felt your orgasm coming over you when he punched your bud with his fingers. Jake licked up your juices and hummed. You tasted sweet. He licked you clean and let your thighs fall on the couch, your legs shaking at the rough orgasm you had. Jake smiled and kissed your cheek.
“That wasn’t cool.” You breathed out.
Jake laughed and hugged your side, “I might do that again when you’re not expecting it.” He smiled. You glared at him, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. As Jake held you close when you fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel like he achieved something special. And it’s all thanks to you.
BONUS
Jay: How’d it go? Did she forgive you?
Jake: Yeah, we had sex ^^
Sunghoon: Ew, don’t type it so cute
Jake: Sorry
Jake: BTW I didn’t know she was friends with your gf Sunghoon.
Sunghoon: She is?
Jake: Yeah, she was at her house when I stopped by
Sunghoon: That explains why she was suddenly excited for her friend
Sunghoon: Ig she knew what you guys were gonna do
Jay: Are you guys still fighting?
Sunghoon: No, she forgave me when I gave her flowers
Jay: Good! So how about that threesome I was talking about-
Sunghoon left the group chat
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taglist — @laylasbunbunny @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @slay-you-slay-all-day @whateverhoon @luminouskalopsia @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @sayuridump @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @ddolleri @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie @sweetshinypuppy @moonpri @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @jayjw16enxp @aanniikkaa @prkhoonlvr @devi1d0ppi0 @enhygene @talyaxia @demigodmahash @shawnyle @0hmyengene @dazzlingjaeyun @ancnymcnzjy @immortalonie @jenniferthekittycat @fancypeacepersona @skzenhalove
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starboye · 3 days ago
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starring: alexander "konig" kilgore x male reader
request: just thinking about innocent naive reader getting corrupted and not even noticing a single thing because he just want to be a good friend. . .
warnings: smut + angst, yander!konig, kinda obsessive, handjob
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konig was such a good friend to you, he would never do anything to hurt such a pretty thing like you and plus you were both best friends so nothing was ever kept a secret between you two, so imagine konigs' face when you announce you have a date with some guy.
watching his face crack into a soft smile and telling you how happy he is for you but behind those eyes he was mad as hell, i mean who does this new guy think he is to try and take you from him, and it gets even worse when you come back from the date the next night and tell konig about how you loved it so much with the biggest smile on your face.
as much as he wants to feel happy for you he just cant imagine anyone else stealing him from you so he makes up a lie "i don't know about him y/n" he blankly making you question him "what do you mean" you ask him "i just have a weird feeling about him" he continues looking at you with the most beautiful eyes "well what if you just get to know him" you try to give an idea but konig pipes up with "you know my gut feeling is usually always right"
and he was kinda right i mean there was that one time you had feeling for this one guy and it turned out he was actually arrested for murder, or at least that's what konig told you (he pulled some strings at the police station and got what he wanted) "well then yeah i guess i can stop seeing him" you say and within seconds konigs arms are wrapped around you and he's thanking you for trusting him.
and queue the constant run of you finding a good guy and konig coercing you to stop seeing them because he has a 'gut feeling' and you trust him, but really he just wants you all to himself, making you depend on him more and more as time goes on by telling you if you ever need help with anything to call him and you do, calling him for even the littlest inconvenience.
whether that be helping you fix something or letting you cry on his shoulder when you get layed of from your job (after he pulled a few more strings and made it seem like you were a bad employee) and offering you a room at his place since you were short on money and couldn't pay your bills.
with you moved in now he can be so much closer to you, sneaking through your things at any chance he could and whats this it seems like you need some new clothes since all yours seem to be gone (he used all of them to jerk off and now they're ruined with his cum) so he takes you to the mall, carrying all your bags as you go to every store getting all the things you want, but hm it seems you need some help trying on those pants why doesn't he help you.
"you sure you're okay with that" you ask him "yeah it's what friends are for" he says helping you but on the jeans that hugged your ass so well, it was no surprise he got a boner, it straining so hard in his pants he just needed some release "fuck baby i need your help" he groans "what's wrong konig" you asked and he moved your hand to the aching bulge in his sweatpants "please just this once" he pleaded and after some consideration you agreed, i mean it was just a one time thing between two friends right.
pulling his pants down his thick cock flops out and you immediately work on fixing it for him, his grip tightening on the top of the dressing room door, your hand rubbing back and forth on his achingly hard boner, this was like his dream, he had thought about this exact thing so much, jerked off to the thought and feel of it but the real things is so much better than he hand.
"fucking shit y/n" he muttered before cumming on your hand, thick load messing up your hand as he let out shuddering breaths, and after that it became a regular thing, konig being all needy and asking you to come help him get off since you did it best (in reality you weren't the best at it but don't worry he'll train you soon enough).
and time after time it seemed you liked it more and more to the enjoyment of konig, maybe just a few more times and you'll tell him how you've had feeling for him to right?
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taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac
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linearities · 20 hours ago
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ᅟᅟᅟ☆ 。⁠ UNDER THE MISTLETOE ~ !!
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a mistletoe hanging above your bed? surely your roommate is just getting into the Christmas Spirit... right?
pairing: roommate!seonghwa x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT!!! +18 MINORS DNI!!!! oral (fem receiving), pussy drunk seonghwa, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cursing, kinda perv!seonghwa (?), not proofread!!!
notes: why hello there my loves :3 it's been a long while since i've written smut so please forgive me if this is bad :/ merry (late) christmas and happy new years to all of you!!!!
taglist form. · masterlist.
divider here.
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you should've suspected something when you got home from work and found a mistletoe hanging above your bed. you thought it was just a cute little detail your roommate did, a cheeky little thing as a lot of others he had a habit to do. sliding into the christmas spirit, you know?
walking inside the apartment, seonghwa was quick to take your bags and help you out of your coat, even going as far as kneeling in front of you to help you take off your shoes. you found it suspicious, yet didn't say anything, knowing that sometimes he'd go overboard on the pampering and all of that, catering to your every whim. according to him, he just wanted to "be a good roommate". you shrugged the thought away, letting him guide you to the bedroom, chuckling as soon as you saw the garment hanging on the wall.
"what's this?" you asked, looking at him with a playful undertone in your voice. he shrugged with that cheeky smile of his, looking at you with soft pleading eyes as he brought his hands to the first button of your blouse. "fuck it, why not?" you thought, nodding at him in encouragement. slowly, he started unbuttoning your blouse, taking his time popping every button. you could hear his breath hitching as the fabric slid off your arms, falling on the bed.
in your defense, you had always found seonghwa pretty cute, and having him undress you like that after a long fucking day of work was almost a dream come true. he was that boy who's jacked and kind Sabrina Carpenter had talked about, so you wouldn't complain at all. he laid you on the bed, softly brushing a strand of hair out of your face.
"you're so beautiful…" he murmured, admiring your features like you were his dream come true. his christmas miracle, "can i kiss you? since we're under the mistletoe and all?"
that got a giggle out of you, and you nodded, joining your lips in a sweet kiss. it was christmas, after all. what could possibly go wrong? except his kisses grew hungrier, greedier, and his hands slowly started to roam over your upper body. you held his wrists, breaking the kiss to properly look at him, only to find pure and raw adoration and desire in his gaze. where the fuck did this come from?
"hwa, i don't know if that's a good idea-"
"please," he interrupted you, burying his face on the crook of your neck, "i promise i'll be good for you." you sighed softly, thinking about it. again, what could go wrong? it was just harmless fun between roommates, under the excuse of a mistletoe.
little did you know you were in for a long night.
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"tasting so good, my christmas gift," seonghwa groaned, your legs hooked on his shoulders as he kept relentlessly making out with your pussy, licking, sucking and kissing your clenching core like it was his death row meal.
you, on the other hand, already had tears in your eyes, coming out of your third orgasm of the night. you couldn't get him out of you at all. you had pushed him only to have him place your legs on his shoulders. you had tried to crawl away, only to have him grab you by your hips and drag you closer, burying his face on your sweet cunt again. seonghwa was completely pussy drunk, pushing you over the edge again and again and again until you were a shivering mess, whimpering and sobbing in overstimulation.
"hwa… hwa, f-fuck, 's too much… too much…" you cried out, hands on his head trying to push him away, your protests falling in deaf ears since he was too far gone to even register what you were saying, murmuring praises on how good you were for him, how beautiful you were, how sweet you tasted, how divine you smelled.
"so perfect f' me… so sweet… so wet, so tasty…." he kept praising, not even realizing how your legs were shaking and ready to give out.
he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, only stopping when he was satisfied, your clit swollen and your legs spasming on his shoulders. sweet little kisses trailed up your body, worshipping your soft skin in pure adoration. his eyes roamed over your face, admiring your fucked out features and the tear streaks on your face.
"so beautiful…" he murmured, peckering his sweet little kisses all over your face, capturing your lips and making you taste yourself on his tongue.
"you're insane," was the only thing you could get out, panting and sweating under him, "and a pervert."
he giggled, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, "don't act as if you didn't enjoy it."
that earned a smack on his shoulder and a chuckle out of him, "shut up."
"merry christmas to you too, roomie," he murmured, laying on top of you and pecking your lips.
"merry christmas, seonghwa," you chuckled, wrapping your legs around him and finally surrendering to the feeling, allowing yourself to relax under his weight.
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hi hello it's your girl meggie :3
if you read until the end thank you so much i literally love you mwah mwah mwah
merry christmas and happy new years, babes <3 gonna bring more treats to y'all soon, just you wait.
xoxo, meggie.
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the-odd-shu · 2 days ago
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Fluffy scenarios for clear skin
Another Lab Illustrator Reader installation!
Masterlist
Previous:
Characters: Jayce, Viktor, Gender Neutral Reader (Reader uses they/them pronouns)
Established: Jayce/Viktor/Reader (POLYCULLLEEE)
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Reader to Jayce: Do you ever look at Viktor when he's thinking and want to kiss every inch of his face?
Jayce taking a slow sip from his hot drink: No. I think he would bite me if I tried.
Reader: Maybe. But whenever he pouts, his eyes go all thoughtful and distant, and I can hardly control myself.
Jayce: Please continue to control yourself. I don't want to have to write an accident report because you lost a nose.
Reader sighs again: Would you bite my nose off if I kissed every inch of your face instead?
Jayce no-rizz Talis then proceeds to choke and nearly perish on his drink.
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In summary, Reader's partners sometimes give them cuteness aggression.
Just the image of Viktor doing that adorable pouting face, and Reader calmly setting down their pen, getting up, crossing over to Jayce's desk to get rid of their cuteness aggression via kisses on poor Jayce instead.
I kind of like the idea of them doing this instead of crowding Viktor when he's clearly trying to think. Whereas Jayce is just constantly on the look out for touch and validation, so it works out great for him. He melts under the attention, more than happy to put his notes aside for a moment in favour of a rather lovely excuse for a break.
They're quiet about it, but sometimes the movement will pull Viktor out of his musings regardless, and he'll just frown at the pair of them acting like idiots.
And if he insinuates he's feeling a little left out, you bet Reader is going to calmly drag him close and touch temples with him - a deeply personal Zaunite display of affection - which would have a whole new adorable expression appearing on Viktor's face and would send Reader IMMEDIATELY into going back to attack Jayce instead of smothering to poor, overwhelmed man.
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In a similar vein of thinking, it would definitely be manadatory for Reader to give into it, just once.
Maybe Jayce is conveniently out of the room, and maybe Viktor is just RIGHT THERE, PLAINLY in sight. And maybe, just this once they SIMPLY CANNOT contain themselves. Viktor is right there and they're not getting any work done because they can't tear their eyes off him.
So they give in, and pepper Viktor's adorable pout with kisses. And the man is just BAFFLED! It takes him a moment to understand what is happening, and then he's letting out flustered strings of words in both his mother's tongue and Piltovern Common, and he's shoving them away by their cheeks.
Reader of course isn't deterred, and just ends up grabbing the hand to kiss his knuckles. Viktor glares down at them with a look of resignation and burning red ears.
Jayce comes in like: what did I miss.
Reader: Turns out he doesn't bite.
Viktor: Not yet. Don't tempt me.
Jayce is rewarded with a forehead touch for simply existing that time round - the significance is not lost on him and he feels touched.
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Viktor's that choatic boyfriend that hears you complaining about a colleague one too many times, and then proceeds to inconvenience them in the most subtle and irritating way known to man, all whilst giving you a shit-eating little smirk as he sits back and watches the world burn.
"That fucker giving you trouble Darling? No worries, I stole all of his left socks and buried them in the staff room plant pot after hours."
"They said what about Jayce?" A beat of silence.
"Viktor?! Where are you going with that washing up liquid."
"Nowhere." Very obviously makes his way to the kitchen.
Said co-worker that was talking shit then begins complaining that every cup of coffee they make tastes like soap!
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Someone talks shit about their partners:
Jayce 'can we talk about this' Talis: "here is a thirty page essay as to why you're wrong, and I have a PowerPoint slide prepared with additional evidence if you will please take a seat and allow me to reeducate you."
Viktor who will resort to psychological warfare to get his point across correcting them, whilst also blatantly gaslighting them into believing that Jayce and Reader can do no wrong, and they were in fact crazy for insinuating such cruel things about either of them to begin with.
Reader who stabs first with their artist-grade scalpel, and asks questions when they're incapacitated and bleeding out on their floor: "Say that again, to my face this time. Go on, I dare you."
(There is a reason why Jayce and Viktor ((the pacifists)) do not teach Reader how to use any of the hextech devices. They will commit murder and refuse to regret it whilst Jayce sweats bullets and Viktor stares on, mouth aghast by the sheer brutality of said murder).
"He deserved it," Reader will explain simply.
And Viktor will go, "perhaps, BUT YOU COULD HAVE LEFT HIS HEAD ATTACHED!"
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Jayce who's trauma raises its head when his partners are cold. Blankets. Warm drinks. Heating on full blast. That snow storm did a number on him and he HATES the winter because of it.
Are you shivering? Is Viktor? No stress, he shall simply have to BECOME the blanket to keep you both alive and well. It is as sweet as it is heartbreaking.
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Viktor who's upbringing in Zaun sometimes makes him precious with food. Not because he was starving, but because sometimes he couldn't have as much food as he wanted, simply because money was tight growing up.
Maybe he has a sweet treat, and ends up breaking it into threes to share with you and Jayce.
Maybe there's only one tea bag left, so he settles for water, despite having REALLY wanted that cup of warm tea.
Maybe he's waiting for seconds for dinner, but there's only enough left for two more portions, so he says he's not hungry anymore.
Viktor who will sometimes feel the gnaw of hunger but make a hot drink to soothe his stomach instead of actually eating something, because its only so far into the day, and if he doesn't eat now, then he won't be as hungry later-
Safe to say, his partners notice. And Jayce keeps the kitchenette well stocked with drinks and snacks alike, whilst Reader will stop by a bakery or cafe in the morning to bring him a proper breakfast, as well as breakfast for themselves and Jayce so he doesn't feel like he HAS to share.
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tragedy-of-commons · 3 days ago
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HOMECOMING.
── dan heng x gn!reader
summary: Your boyfriend invites you to spend Christmas break with him and his eccentric (but lovable all the same) family. You oblige.
contains: modern and university au, established relationship, comedy and tooth-rotting fluff, christmas shopping, the astral express fam all make appearances (pre-2.7), setting is very american-inspired (sorry), cringefail exuberant reader, one hurt/comfort scene
word count: 11.4k oops
taglist: @singularity-sam, @mitsvriii, @tetrachrxmacy, @bladism, @mikashisus
notes: for @azuresaqua, written for the @/stellaronhvnters secret santa 🎄 this took all month, but i hope you like it crys!! also this totally looks fine on dark mode. if you think otherwise then ummm SHHH. dividers by @/cafekitsune!
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Your phone blares with its usual grating ringtone, startling you out of your reverie.
Scrambling to pick the device up, you’re pleasantly surprised. So much so that you drop the sweatshirt in your free hand mid-fold. The caller ID reads Dan Heng, lighting up your homescreen with his contact icon.
A warmth buzzes in your chest as you look it over, a giggle erupting from your throat. The selfie is of you and him, with Dan Heng looking particularly spacey in the midst of the bustling street.
You’re now considerably less bored. You’ve been looking for an excuse to procrastinate doing your laundry all day, and it just so happens to entail talking with your lovely partner. Not waiting any longer, you clear your throat, tap the green accept button, and press the speaker to your ear.
“Hi, darling!” you chirp, shifting to sit more comfortably, “I miss you. How’re you holding up? Still in the library studying the day away?”
The other line crackles with life. “Hello. I feel the same,” Dan Heng informs you matter-of-factly, his cadence clear as a river. “And no, I’m not there anymore. It was… too crowded for my liking.”
That’s no surprise. Finals are upon the whole campus in a few days, and it shows. There is a distinct, depressing atmospheric pressure that weighs upon your fellow students. 
The scourge of exams, the final boss of the semester, the enemy of mental fortitude and peace. Though Dan Heng loves your university’s expansive library, you can imagine he’d be less enthralled when a hundred tired young adults are populating it to cram.
“Yeah, I can imagine,” you wince. “Well, look on the bright side. We’re almost done, yeah? Soon enough, the library will be solely your domain once again, and you can be a doll and skim the archives in my stead.”
His voice takes on a sarcastic lilt, affection hidden underneath the words like a hard-won reward. You think it’s an indulgence for him. “If my memory serves correctly, I had to smooth things over with the librarian on your behalf. I don’t think it’s a wise idea for you to loiter there any longer, as energetic as you are.”
How cheeky! Honestly, you’re not even that loud. Sometimes you laugh a little too hard at benign things (like the way some book titles sound out of context), or react too vibrantly at the wrong times (like exclaiming profanities after tripping over your own feet), but those aren’t crimes.
Even now, ruminating over this reasoning, you still don't understand how you got banned from the library. Unreal.
“Hey, come on now! I don’t even loiter… I just want to spend time with you, even if studying isn’t something I burden myself with. That guy has it out for me,” you insist, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. “Anyway, I’m not saying this to be rude, but…”
“But?” Dan Heng asks cautiously.
“You normally don’t call first. Is everything okay?”
You mean it when you ask. Though you love your boyfriend, he isn’t the best at initiating longform communication. Sometimes you’ll get a text with a link to a video he found interesting, or he’ll update you with life (mostly just classes and endless papers), and then you’ll respond by quadruple-texting and then maybe calling him. For hours. And then asking to come over to his dorm. And then falling asleep with him. All at your request, which he doesn’t seem to mind.
That being said, it’s atypical that he takes up the mantle, which makes you worry. And if you worry, Dan Heng feels guilty. Trying not to be patronizing, you patiently wait for him to speak on his own terms, humming to yourself idly. You could, y’know, do your laundry, but you’re not gonna do that. Free will is so cool and awesome.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” he assures, words measured. “I just have something I’d like to run by you, but I didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.”
“I’m never busy! Spill!” Extremely curious, you pluck your phone from your ear and put Dan Heng on speaker. While you’re at it, you also stand up and pace the short length from your bed to the door of your suite, clothes abandoned on the floor. 
“It’s about this winter break. We haven’t conferred on plans yet, but I was planning to ask you if you’d meet my… my family. Of course, it all depends on your availability - don’t feel too rushed to answer, I’d just like to know in advance so I can get things in order on my end.”
Woah, what just happened? You stop walking to think, gears spinning and grinding and pushing all sorts of implications. His family. 
Dan Heng has one, yes, he divulges details every once in a while and elaborates on his mishmash of a homelife when you ask, but you’ve never heard him refer to these mystical figures as family. They’ve always been referred to as my friend, followed by their name. You know them well, committing each to memory despite not having met them yet: March, Caelus, Welt, and Himeko. 
Of course, you pester your boyfriend about them. Nothing too invasive, just remembering the important details. Asking for updates about March’s creative ventures or inquiring if Himeko’s coffee has gotten any more palatable, to name a few. 
In turn, Dan Heng would make a comment about how they also pester him about you. It’s like a big game of telephone - this indirect communication is what you’re used to. It’s kind of surreal to think about actually meeting them after all this time.
Then the joy comes. He wants to share this part of his life with you. Is this the natural next step in your relationship, like all seasoned married couples fondly reflect back on? Dan Heng wants to spend three and half weeks with you, uninterrupted, at home. His home.
Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them away, grinning like an absolute fool. Does he really think you’ll say no? You’d already do anything to make him happy. Despite being several buildings and crosswalks away from him right now, your hearts feel impossibly close together.
(It’s not like you have anything else planned.)
That thought is pushed away as quickly as it comes. No time for you to be bitter when it’s the season of giving and all things cheerful! This opportunity is nothing short of a blessing… you’re saved from being cramped up inside the inevitably deserted hall for the entirety of break. You’re saved from having to admit to Dan Heng that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do like everyone else. 
Shock, joy, relief. 
“Oh my god,” you laugh, breathy. With a repressed-young-man-trained-ear, you catch a soft sigh of relief dissipating on the other line. “Yes, of course I want to meet them! Dude, this is so exciting! What if I died? What if I blew up the entirety of campus in my merriment? What then?”
He is far too used to your theatrics to react too strongly to them at this point. “...I wouldn’t put it past you. But I’m glad you said yes. There’s just the issue of details to work out.”
Dan Heng proposes different times on different days to leave. Well, he probably went more in depth than that - he likes to schedule and plan for the future, even if he doesn’t always stick to those self-imposed regulations in the end - probably droning on about the cost of gas or something. But you’re way too shell-shocked to respond coherently, muffling squeals and noncommittal hums that give away exactly how much you’re not paying attention.
Digesting about half of the information, you bring up what you have left to do before winter break after he does the same: registration for next semester’s classes, turning in textbooks for certain courses (thank the stars renting is affordable here), and the remaining days riddled with finals. 
Despite how daunting these tasks are for others, you find yourself enjoying the denouement. Guessing on scantrons has gotten you pretty far, and the other obligations can be swiftly eliminated through sheer will and lots of Christmas music. Your Spotify listening history must look like some kind of tinsel-festooned warzone.
This will be your first ever Christmas with Dan Heng. He’s never been extremely festive by any means, but you cajoled him into a matching Halloween costume a month ago, and he is fond of horror movies despite how silly they can be, offering little bits of trivia or his critiques on the film’s score. 
You think this holiday, spent at his home, in his hometown - will be the source of many happy memories. It’ll also, hopefully, be another endless source of teasing. 
Images flit through your mind, the most notable of which being your stoic boyfriend in a truly hideous red and green sweater. You snicker to yourself until your amusement is disturbed by Dan Heng promptly clearing his throat. 
He says your name in that soft way that makes you weak in the knees. You’re under his spell just as much as he is under yours. You should take to reminding him of that more often. “Just to be clear, is this alright with you?”
It’s so much more than alright, you think. Winter, for all of its bitter cold and unforgiving responsibilities, still teems with life as the leaves die. For every day you’ve spent alone during the last two Christmases, you’ll be repaid with one in kind spent with Dan Heng and the people he trusts most.
You’re blessed with the sweet thought that you’re now a part of those treasured, trustworthy few as well. 
You know you’ve been treasured for a long time, but feeling it actualized, solidified in action, is as homey and warm as a burning hearth.
“Yeah,” you breathe. “I am, darling. I’m so excited that I think I’m shaking!”
You tighten your grip on your phone, almost leaving indents in the shitty case, attempting to still your vibrating fingers. His response is a mumble along the lines of you should probably eat something, and I’m glad. Dan Heng can be a little awkward, especially over the phone, but that just speaks of his sincerity. He’s glad you’re coming. 
You scuttle over to the window beside your bed, yanking the blinds askew to peek outside. A glimpse of the first frost coating the student parking lot promises something more. Something magical and childlike.
Joy. You have a feeling you’re going to be extremely insufferable to any and all scrooges (people rightfully sick of dealing with your chipper attitude) in the coming days. Oh well, they can suck it up because it’s the most wonderful time of the year, and you’re in love with the most amazing person in the world. 
You tell him not to worry, which he sighs at, and then the brunt of the conversation is over. The following silence is calm but electric, dragging on for just the right amount of time. A well-deserved respite, you think. 
“I love you,” you confess.
“...I love you too. Touch base soon.”
With that, the call ends abruptly. Your cheeks feel hot and you’re reinvigorated, daydreaming of Dan Heng’s expressions obscured by distance - you want nothing more than to see him, but you know your partner well enough to realize when he needs a break; to realize when he needs his alone time. You would never begrudge him for it.
That was a fucking whirlwind.
You shove your phone in your pocket after nudging the blinds back in place. There’s so much to do, and you’re definitely gonna need another run-down of the schedule (preferably in person), but for now, you’ll let yourself be over the moon and overrun with task paralysis. 
Triumphantly, you turn to flip off your abandoned pile of laundry. Free will is so cool and awesome.
“We are so back!”
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You’re so impatient that you’ve started counting the hours.
The final stretch is a lot more boring than you thought it was going to be. Picking a time to check out of your dorm, fixing up any scuffs on the walls from your shitty posters before room inspection, actually passing your classes. The normal stuff. 
Both you and Dan Heng decided that you would leave at around three in the morning on the first day of break. It sounded bewildering at first, and you had levelled him with a look that made him hurriedly elaborate.
“In order to get there at a reasonable time, it’s the best way to go,” he’d said over coffee. “The drive isn’t more than a few hours, but if we leave right after routine inspection, we’d be arriving in the middle of the night.”
Though the mental image of showing up on a quaint little home’s doorstep in your pajamas and waking up the whole neighborhood with your knocking is funny, it’s not funny enough to quell your nerves. 
You’ve noticed, usually in the midst of trying to be productive, that the excitement is weighing heavily on your heart. Your hands are perpetually shaky, you’re sweating disgusting buckets, and you’re sure you look as if you’ve lost your marbles to any soul brave enough to strike up conversation.
That last part came to your attention when Bronya, your desk neighbor in your Interpersonal Communications class, dared ask you if she could borrow a pencil. She barely got the question out before she asked if you were alright. And if Bronya asks you if you’re alright, it means that you must look terrible. 
Sure enough, you are getting less and less sleep, and you’ve been prone to twitching. In retrospect, you probably had that wild look in your eye that screamed I am at rock bottom and it’s in the public’s best interest that I’m contained.
But you’re not at rock bottom! You’re just nervous, and it’s weird when you’re nervous, because such an occurrence is as rare as a blue moon. You’re going to be meeting Dan Heng’s family in a matter of days, and you’re expected to behave as a normal, functioning member of society. Unbelievable. Even the love of your life has noticed the difference in your behavior - he seems disturbed but respectful. 
You recall him asking if you were ill, which you had vehemently denied. Then he kissed you under the thin covers of his bed, and everything was fine for a moment.
But you think you’re feeling better on this day in particular. To distract yourself from the anxiety, you’ve sunk deeper into the holiday cheer. With Dan Heng at your side, you’ve blown off classes for the day to go gift shopping. The outlet mall near your university is always bustling, but during this time of year, you’d think there’s an overpopulation crisis wreaking havoc on your city.
Escalators are crammed with excited children dragging their parents along, there are decorations painstakingly put up in every nook and cranny, and you have a mission to see through.
“Thanks for ditching to help me out,” you preface. “It’d be way too difficult to shop for your family on my own. Just the idea of stress-buying things they may not even like… ugh. Also, wow! I realized you haven’t told me jack shit about them! I’m actually clueless.”
Dan Heng is not amused, but he doesn’t outright refute your assertion. “I suppose you have a point. And I didn’t ditch class,” he emphasizes, ears red. “Psychology got canceled.”
Here, among the sea of people, Dan Heng looks his least confident. While you, the person known for befriending every stray cat you meet, look your best.
The juxtaposition makes you feel fuzzy, and you know in your heart that he would've helped you anyway, even if he had class. He can be so obvious but so subtle at the same time. You tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt once, purely affectionate. 
“Right. Uh, where do we start? Who’s the easiest to shop for?” you wonder aloud, crossing the stretches of marble and doing your best to peer down the massive store-lined strip. “We could start with March. She’s into crafty stuff, right?”
Your boyfriend tames a cowlick in his dark hair. “Yes. You seem to have a plan figured out already, but she uses up heaps of film while taking photos. An arts and crafts store would likely have the 600 type for her Polaroid. That’s what I had in mind in terms of a gift she’d appreciate.”
“We seem to be on the same page, but that just sounds so… impersonal! Bit of a safe choice, don’t you think? Let’s play it by ear and see what they have. I’m sure she’d also appreciate something handmade. I think I have enough time to DIY a gift; they probably have kits for all sorts of stuff.”
Dan Heng is starting off in the direction of the correct storefront. The display window is easily spotted, plastered with all kinds of paper mache ornaments. “You don’t need to fret. Knowing her, she’ll love anything that comes from you.”
You blink, grinning. “Really? Didn’t know I was so popular.”
“You have no idea,” sighs Dan Heng.
Warmly titled Make n’ Create, the door chimes, signifying your entry. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the smell of candles - a few hundred thousand, you hazard. 
Scents of vanilla and evergreen paired with cinnamon burn your nostrils as you survey the aisles of winding shelves overflowing with endless possibilities. Almost forgetting to return the greeting of the woman behind the counter, you snap out of your stupor and drag your boyfriend along.
Everything looks enticing… your savings account is telling you to be responsible, but your heart is telling you to snatch up and squirrel away any item of interest just in case. You wander the marble floor under the bright fluorescents, humming under your breath. “Hey, we can probably save some time and split up. Could you go look for the film? We’ll definitely get that along with whatever catches my eye.”
Relieved to have something to do, Dan Heng nods and disembarks from your side, perilously weaving between other shoppers buzzing with excitement. He mentioned that he deliberately put off Christmas shopping since you insisted on doing it together, the thought alone satisfying. 
The prospect of scrawling both of your names on the same box, passed off into eager hands. The words will read From: Dan Heng and his partner.
Rounding a corner, the pottery and ceramics section calls to you like a siren. There are stocks upon stocks of white, unpainted Christmas trees and wreaths, advertised as blank canvases to decorate as your own - paint included. Those are cute, but something relevant year-round would probably be received better. 
Impressions, impressions. Your gaze drops lower, dutifully searching…
Aha!
Ceramic jewelry dishes. Same gimmick as the trees and wreaths, but not necessarily seasonal. There are a few different types among the kits - heart-shaped, some with hinges that open and close, even some with music box elements with heftier price tags. 
Your intuition slaps you across the face multiple times. March will love one of these, you just know it! Cautious, you spare a shifty glance from left to right before squealing to yourself. The package in your hand is crisp and promising as you check over the price and instructions.
Dan Heng returns to witness your perfect find. You know this because you recognize the soft padding of his footsteps anywhere (which is not creepy). You turn to see him and the fond look in his eye - and the aforementioned packages of film he’s clutching. 
“Hey, you,” you chuckle. “You found it, great! Anyway, look what I stumbled upon. Do you think she’ll--” “Yes,” he breathes, suddenly decisive. “She will. Especially the heart one.”
Quickly heeding the ever-rare suggestion from Dan Heng, you discard the now inferior package and seize the heart-shaped one. “I trust your judgment. She has good taste, honestly. Thanks for your help, love, I appreciate it. I know for a fact she likes pink, and though my hands are a little clumsy… I’ll make a masterpiece outta this, trust me.”
He exhales through his nose. That’s a laugh if you’ve ever heard one. “You sound so resolute…”
“Duty-bound, if you will,” you grin. “We can move on to the next place if you’d like. Didn’t expect to be done here so fast.”
“...wait.”
You tilt your head, following his line of sight back to the shelves. He seems transfixed on something else there, and a few seconds go by in silence as you’re left to figure out what it is on your lonesome. 
Dan Heng has gotten better at speaking his mind - he was never bad at it, but sometimes words get tangled up in his reticent hesitation. You understand this well. So, you try to determine what’s caught his eye. The understanding you come to is a nice one. The lowest rung of the shelf, almost overshadowed, are more ceramics - no surprise there. But it feels like fate the way that they’re displayed; two sturdy coffee cups with intricate handles, then a miniature raccoon forever inlaid with a devilish expression, practically commanding a paintbrush to make its mischievous grin come to life with color. 
Himeko, Welt, Caelus.
You laugh, loud and bright, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand with a conspiratorial grin. “Four birds with one stone, huh? We’re gonna need a cart!”
Dan Heng is blushing. It’s subtle, not at all burning or obvious to any nosy bystanders, but it’s enough to make your heart sing with delight. You take it he’s glad that you picked up on his thoughts so wordlessly. 
He excuses himself after muttering something about going to get the cart while you smile like an idiot. A lovestruck idiot. A lovestruck idiot with a soon-to-be overdrawn bank account.
…well, not exactly. After you gather everything and go to check out, he insists on paying for all of it. You make sure to argue with him in front of the very amused cashier, reaching a compromise in no time at all thanks to your amazing negotiation skills. He’ll pay for this load (whatever), and you’ll pay for any remaining splurges today. It’s only natural you need to stop by a few more places, considering March has two gifts while the others only have one. 
By the time Dan Heng’s social battery is drained and yours is frayed, you have everything. An apparel outlet that you would’ve never stepped foot in normally now has your patronage; a golden brooch in the shape of a rose (that’s surprisingly affordable) for Himeko, a classy but patterned tie for Welt, and a trendy jacket for Caelus.
You think you’re the most jealous of that last one - it has many pockets and takes up enough space to suffocate a small orphan.
Hauling the bags into the icy parking lot, you suddenly stop in your tracks, feeling the generous weight of your spending in the process. “Hold on.”
Your tired but loving partner heeds your command. “What? Is something the matter?”
“We forgot to shop for each other,” you point out, sheepish and breathy. Seems you’ve both been so caught up in the tradewinds that you forgot. “Should we go back inside?”
“No,” he blurts, “I’ve already acquired your gift.”
Gobsmacked, you almost drop your share of the bags. He’s been holding out on you?! The surprise quickly fades into mushy limerence before it dulls. “Huh? When did you do that? Oh shit, I haven’t gotten you anything yet… dude, I’m sorry, I’ll head back inside, all secret mission-esque and find you something while you wait in the car--” 
Dan Heng shakes his head. “You… you don’t have to.”
The hell? Does he even know how Christmas works? “Of course I do, come on,” you push forward. Knowing you’ve already forgotten where you’ve parked, he strides out in front of you and leads the way, preparing to argue his case. “We’ll put these in the back, and I’ll find you an amazing gift, you’ll see.”
You both reach his little beat-up sedan (which you’ve aptly named Granny), while he fumbles for his keys. He sighs, rolling the frigid joints in his shoulders as he opens the driver’s seat to unlock the trunk. Setting the bags down on the gross pavement is unfortunately inevitable. You throw the thing open, already loading. 
Dan Heng’s rebuttal is almost startling.
“I don’t need an ‘amazing gift’. I have you.”
You freeze. Where did he pull that from? Are you hallucinating again? Is this like the time you stayed up for two days straight to half-ass a dozen unfinished assignments? Or maybe it’s selective hearing… such a line is probably from an old romcom that you’re mentally regurgitating and then projecting onto him.
But you don’t tease or ask him to repeat it. Instead, you choose to fully believe and embrace that compliment, warming your heart and your cheeks. His expression is obscured from your position, but he probably looks the same.
“I’m… really glad you think so, Dan Heng,” you almost whisper.
Before he can say anything else that’ll ruin the moment, you decide that’s your job! and slam the trunk closed, deafeningly loud. 
“But that’s unacceptable! I’ll find you something perfect in the coming days no matter what!”
You hear him sigh before you hear his approaching footsteps. “Try not to stress too hard about it. Also, open that back up, there are more bags.”
“Oops,” you giggle. “Why not ask me nicely, like in that Romeo way you did five seconds ago?”
Your other half rightfully elects to ignore you.
As you finish wrapping up with him at your side, the subsequent ride back to campus is in comfortable silence. The buzz of what’s to come lingers on your mind as you stare out of the passenger window at the familiar scenery. You’ll find time to squeeze in finding a gift for Dan Heng, you’ll make sure of it. 
But for now, what to pack for the impending trip…?
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You wake to the sound of your blaring alarm. Scrambling for your phone to make the thing shut up, you’re blinded by the time. It’s 2:30 in the morning, you’re disoriented, and you desperately want to go back to sleep. But when you really come to a minute later after hitting snooze, it all sinks in. 
Your room inspection is over with, your finals have been taken (you didn’t fail any of them, yay), and you have to leave campus with Dan Heng in about thirty minutes. Surreal that you’re awake at this hour, you go about getting ready - this includes texting the man of the hour to make sure he didn’t oversleep.
To your satisfaction, he responds swiftly. To your horror, he mentions that he’s ready and waiting. Unfair, in your opinion - why is he always punctual, and why are you always late?
You look in the mirror at your haphazard reflection. Not too shabby; just a leisure t-shirt and some sweatpants, pulled together by the thickest jacket you have since it’s grown even colder out. Your bags are already packed and practically bursting at the seams, loaded with your essentials, and of course the presents for Dan Heng’s family. 
You spent all of your free time crammed between everything else painting the ceramics while he wrapped and made everything else look pretty.
(You almost got crudely mixed pink paint on your dorm wall - well, you did just a little bit. Luckily it came off without the need to go sprinting to the nearest hardware store in pursuit of a cover-up job. That would have been bad. Very bad. Also, you left the primary suite door open to ventilate, and at least three students walking down the hallway witnessed your perfectionism-driven breakdown. Also, your suitemate hates you now.)
All of that’s over, though. Making sure you have everything once, then twice, then three whole times - you decide it’s finally time to go. You lug everything out of your dorm, down the hallway, into the elevator, and wait as it descends.
You check your phone, updating your boyfriend as the cabin grinds to a halt on the ground floor. Outside is nothing short of beautiful, if not hypothermic.
Snow falls in tiny flurries that make the dark cement purgatory look like a dream. The floodlights leave some corners of the parking lot shadowed, but illuminate Dan Heng just right. You spot him and his old ass car smack dab in the middle of all the empty spaces, just about everyone having vacated already.
“Hi, darling,” your breath syncs with the air as a wispy cloud. You kiss his cheek. “You ready?”
“I have been for the better part of an hour,” he informs you, perhaps a little grumpy from waking up so early - or it could just be that wry sarcasm rearing its head.
You find that Dan Heng is neither an early bird nor a night owl, oscillating between the two like nobody’s business. He’s up when he needs to be, including now, softened under the touch of your lips. 
And so, without much fanfare, the road trip commences. It’s notably different than the other times he’s chauffeured you around - so silent and grave. It kind of puts a damper on the Christmas spirit you’ve so painstakingly adopted, but you think twice about cranking the radio. He is the one driving, after all.  
You offered to switch with him halfway, and to his credit, he thought about it. But then Dan Heng politely shook his head and muttered something about bad weather and hydroplaning. Whatever a hydroplane is, you aren’t sure what it has to do with you being untrustworthy behind the wheel. 
The pleasant blast of the heater, the occasional robotic warbling from the GPS app, and the noise of the light drizzle outside are your more talkative companions. You’re getting antsy; you feel it in the bouncing of your leg and how you mindlessly chew on the dead skin of your bottom lip. 
Should you try to ignore it? Put on your headphones and tune out? The thought is appealing. 
Instead, you pipe up a few minutes before you’re due to turn on the interstate.
“Wanna get coffee?” you singsong. “I mean, you especially are going to need the caffeine to keep awake. Sleep deprivation is, like, the number three reason people get into car crashes.”
Dan Heng huffs in amusement. You’re glad that got some kind of reaction out of him, glad that the stoney silence has been broken. But if you’re being completely honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), this detour suggestion is just an excuse to delay the inevitable. For all of your joy, lingering anxiety chips away at your trademark smirk. 
You decide to bribe him just a little. “I’m buying.”
He turns into the nearest place without any further prodding. The coffee, which you have successfully paid for by the way, is nice. The searing light of the menu options, clambering over Dan Heng to place your orders as loud as you can because you know it’s hard for them to hear anything - fleeting memories of taking orders at your high school part-time job and all that. 
As you take the cup holder tray from your partner, ferried through the drive thru window, he speaks up, much to your chagrin.
“You’re nervous,” he says, leaving no room for doubt. You continue to situate the drinks and glance into the side view mirror, taking a sudden rapt interest in the line forming behind you.
You decide to lie. Maybe he’ll be merciful and let you work this one out on your own. “Me? Nervous? Whatever gives you that impression? Perhaps you needed the coffee more than I thought… poor Dan Heng, so tired that he’s hallucinating…” you whistle.
Gaslighting, unfortunately, doesn’t work. Persuasion check must’ve rolled off. Dan Heng says your name, soft but stilted in a way that makes your heart ache. He rolls out of the drive thru after checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. They gain their color back after he realizes you’re staring at them.
“I’m nervous too. Extremely.” You’re back on the highway, and you fiddle with the GPS to get yourself back en route, taking in his words as they come. Dan Heng is being candid with you; encouraging. “Going back home is always an… ordeal.”
You deflate a bit, conflict warring on your face. Considering how flustered he gets when you dote on him, albeit within his limits, you can’t imagine how exhausting being fussed at from all angles would be. Not like he’s a kid, but that he’s returning home after another semester of being independent.
“Yeah, um, I can imagine. I don’t know much about that stuff, but it’ll probably be amplified with me coming with you. We’ll get through it together and have a great time.”
You say it to convince yourself more than him, but it works. Perhaps that was his plan all along?
“Yes,” agrees Dan Heng. “We will.”
The interstate stretch, predictably, is the most sizable chunk of the trip. Temptation whispers in your ears tantalizingly, the idea of a nap or two at the forefront of your sleep-addled mind. The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windshield battling with the snow makes it even harder to resist.
So, you doze soundly in your reclined seat, nice and warm. You think you feel a hand, cold and calloused, brushing against your cheek, but fighting it would require waking up to demand he focus on the road! It retracts, and you’re out for a good long while.
You know that for a fact, because when you wake up, dawn is encroaching. The stars are still visible against the bleeding horizon. You feel much better, even if Dan Heng suppresses a smile at your expense - you seriously must look wrecked from a few simple hours of rest. Geez.
You yawn, waking up to chat. Your boyfriend looks unruffled, cool eyes scanning road signs for a place to apparently fuel up.
He tells you that there’s only about an hour or so left, the ETA checking out. Nerves flood your system, but after a deep breath and stepping out to stretch your legs, you feel better.
“Who knew you were so good at pep talks,” you tease, if not to hide the fact you’re completely enamored with him. You fill up the tank after he cuts the engine, purposefully yelling so he can hear your words through the rolled up windows. “My man, the motivator!”
You hear his ensuing groan, claiming mental victory as the pump dings. Easy. 
Staring at the signs of his hometown, a foreign sense of wonder engulfs you as you split from the interstate. Has that diner been there since Dan Heng was a kid? Did he even spend all of his childhood in one place? Should you ask, or is that too invasive? 
The trees lining the grassy outcrops are tiny and thin, likely just having been planted by the city. How much has changed since you’ve started monopolizing his time?
Your questions spill out, and he does his best to answer them - but he also seems nostalgic, wistful and pained. Your earlier revelation rings true; you don’t know much about Dan Heng’s past.
That’s slowly changing as he tells you some stories, though his words are messy and create a muddled image in your head. You don’t push too far, chattering his ear off in response to keep things lighthearted. 
(Maybe you’ll be more open about yourself too. Maybe.)
Then you careen into a residential area. It’s more suburban than you expected for a city-town hybrid of this size, streets of apartment units and then gated communities of houses. You whistle because you’re almost there, you can feel it!
“Which one is it, huh?” you pester, practically pressing your face against the glass. “Come on, pick up the pace a little!”
“I am not keen on getting a ticket this far in. A few more turns.”
True to his word, a row of townhouses come into view. They’re not massive, but the few you see are brimming with character. Full, decadent awnings and aged brick matched with just the right colors to make your brain happy. They look lived in, filled with memories that you’re eager to digest and, hopefully, be a part of.
Dan Heng pulls into the driveway of the oldest-looking one and parks. The GPS drones on, informing you of your arrival. Your anxiety has almost entirely abated at this point, thank the heavens and stars, and it’s near time to face the music with open arms.
“What a nice place! I guess we should greet them, and then start unloading?”
He nods. It’s still cold out, but less so than at school. Stepping out onto the pavement gives you a little thrill, and you trail behind Dan Heng, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets as you stare at the front door.
It has a little brass knocker in lieu of a doorbell, and you reach out to grasp it on instinct. Your hand brushes his that had reached out at the same time.
You wiggle your eyebrows at him. 
He sighs and finally knocks after you reel your grubby hand back. It all comes down to this - kind of anticlimactic from someone else’s perspective, but paramount from yours. Who will answer the door?
The answer is immediate: Welt. The thing creaks open, revealing a tall, older man with graying brown hair and glasses. He’s utilizing a cane and looks exactly like you imagined, distinguished and fitting right into the scene with his creme turtleneck and kind eyes. He regards you both, first Dan Heng, then you. 
“You’re here early. Welcome back - and I see you’ve brought them, as promised,” Welt’s voice is warm, and you get the feeling the small smile he’s wearing is quite rare. “Come in, we’ve been waiting on you two. It’s an honor to meet Dan Heng’s esteemed partner.”
You’re utterly awestruck, responses forming on your tongue only to dissolve into garbled nothings. As you robotically follow inside, you watch as Dan Heng falls into an awkward-looking side hug with Welt - quickly averting your eyes so they can have a moment. Then, you can’t contain it anymore, speaking to your heart’s content.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot - well, not a lot, but enough,” you ramble unapologetically, taking in the decor of the foyer, “and I’m really excited to be here, you have no idea. Are those Ray Bans? You have a lovely home!”
Your boyfriend, wetting his chapped lips, communicates silently with Welt. You think it’s something like a greeting, a familial synergy you can’t quite grasp yet. Maybe it’s a warning: I am dating an idiot chatterbox, please be nice to them. 
That seems unlikely; necessitates further observation. This is just like Animal Planet. 
“Thank you, I recognize your sincerity. It’s a rare trait, these days,” he mutters mostly to himself, probably reminiscing on some mysterious past. He goes on to curtly answer your more frivolous questions while leading the two of you deeper inside. Dan Heng squeezes your hand and you share your own telepathic glance with him. 
This is going well!
The interior of the living room is striking, bearing the marks of age and care. You recognize most of the furniture as antiques - leather couches and loveseats with beautiful upholstery, a sage grandfather clock standing tall near the stone fireplace, and overflowing bookshelves that’d satiate even the most voracious of readers.
Paintings adorn every wall, not a square inch left blank. The mantle boasts many trinkets and baubles of various cultures, some of which you recognize - and some of which you don’t. Those could definitely be a great conversation starter! 
So charming, so quaint, so rich in history! You’d wax poetic and stare at each nifty little thing until your eyes bled if you could.
“Darling, I didn’t know you were so well-off! Maybe I should start calling you Mr. Old Money.” “...please don’t.”
Welt hides a chuckle in his gloved hand before surveying the room. “It seems everyone is doing their own thing. I’ll go get Himeko, she must be in her study,” he throws a look over his shoulder, uttering your name with just the right amount of phlegm. “Welcome. Don’t be afraid to make yourself at home.”
And you’re left alone to breathe for a short minute. You run your thumb over Dan Heng’s knuckles reverently, pondering aloud. “He’s so cool! He’s an animator, right? I’ve heard you mention something like that before.”
He nods. “Indeed. He’s worked on various pitch bibles for all kinds of IPs, but he’s more content on assuming quieter roles in the industry, or so he’s told us. His passion is what carries him, not the spotlight.”
“...that’s a great way to live,” you marvel. The air feels vulnerable after that, the nature of something as intangible as family running through the undercurrents of the house. “Do you think he’s right for being so humble?”
“It is not my place to comment, but… I can say that I look up to him,” he admits, giving your hand a shy squeeze. “Himeko is similar. She’s--” “--enthralled to finally meet your acquaintance?” 
A new voice cuts in. Himeko is also a vision, donning a winter shawl that wraps around a sepia-colored dress with tights, topped off with a beret. She looks absolutely stunning, and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to compliment her profusely. She stands at a comparable height to Welt, expression softened with mirth.
“It’s long since overdue,” Himeko extends a handshake which you take. Your jaw must be scraping the floor, which Welt and Dan Heng see fit to ignore.
She whips a ruby curl out of her face to scrutinize you - shit, you probably should’ve worn something nicer. First impressions and all that!
She greets Dan Heng with a hardy embrace after letting your hand go. He stands rigid.
“I was beginning to think he was making you up,” she teases. “When you both settle in, we have a lot to catch up on. Can we help you with your bags?”
You grin at your boyfriend, nudging him with your elbow. “Whaddya say, huh?”
He nods, shoulders slumping as if he’s made it past some great obstacle. 
“Great,” Welt interjects, heading back towards the front door with Himeko in tow. Dan Heng turns to you, voice akin to a whisper.
“March and Caelus are probably in their bedrooms or,” he sighs, “conspiring elsewhere. If you’d like, you can go on and look around while we deal with the luggage. It’s a lot to get used to, and you’re better off getting your curiosity out of your system.”
You gasp, splaying a hand over your heart. “You say that like I’m some unruly child! I’m not going to break anything…”
Dan Heng gives you a look.
“...this time,” you begrudgingly add.
Before he can hurry after them though, you gingerly (roughly) grab him by the collar and give him a smooch. It’s over as quick as it began, and you barely get a glimpse of his scandalized visage before you set off to explore. 
The adjoining hallway leading you out of the living room is painted stark white, all kinds of framed photographs hanging on display. Most of them are noir shots of famous people; movie stars, historical figures and the like. You stop in your tracks to look each of them over.
Some aren’t so impersonal. For example, there’s one of Himeko standing in a train station, posing on the platform with a massive and austere steam locomotive behind her. There is also a gray-haired dude at her side, pointing at the train with an exaggerated expression of shock. Caelus. And the photo’s signature - March 7th. 
Right on time, before you can continue snooping, you hear the distinct noise of bickering further down the hallway. You grin, sensing drama like a blood-sniffing shark. 
The muffled racket becomes clearer as you approach what is probably a bedroom door, and you hesitate for only a second before not-rudely throwing it open. You can deal with the consequences later. After all, this sounds more like banter than a serious argument - you would know!
The first thing you see are two figures with their backs turned to you. Pink and gray hair hunched over a desk - Caelus sitting and clicking furiously with March pointing at the one of the three flashing monitors, posing a threat to this hell of a gamer setup.
“You actually suck at this! Log off already, Dan Heng and his guest are going to be here soon,” she chastises as Caelus huffs, him dying moments later (in Pac-Man of all things). “Seriously, this is as boring as watching paint dry. I don’t know how you have so many viewers…”
You blink, scrutinizing the monitors again. Yes, there’s Pac-Man, but there’s also a live chat that seems to be going crazy, dozens of messages burying even more dozens of messages. There’s a facecam too, framing all three of you - wait, three? 
Oops. You’re live on Twitch.
“March is just a grade-A hater,” Caelus declares to his audience, “always betting against me. I’ll have all of you know that I, Whisperer of Dumpsters, Toilet Destroyer--”
A groan. “Not this again.”
They seem oblivious to the fact that you’re here, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. Clippers must be going nuts right about now…
Dan Heng never mentioned that Caelus took this career path - but then again, you can imagine he was trying to avoid the headache of you pestering him with stream references. Either way, you’re here now, and you’ll be damned if you pass up an opportunity this golden.
“They’ve been keeping me in the basement for three years!” you yell, causing both of them to jump and turn in bewilderment, “They’re frauds, kidnappers, liars--”
“We’ve been what?!” March shrieks. She’s either 1.) quickly adjusting to your improv and playing along or 2.) now wholeheartedly convinced that you’ve been held captive here under the floorboards.
The chat lags from how fast messages are coming in, and Caelus cackles maniacally before mashing a shortcut on his keyboard to switch to a Be Right Back screen. What a performance, and you also burst out in laughter, not unlike his. 
“Well, you certainly uh… made an entrance,” March grimaces, looking only slightly mortified. That sourness fades into a friendly smile as she scratches the back of her head. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Oh my god, c’mere!”
Caelus stares at you with beady eyes as she bounds towards your form in the doorway, engulfing you in a giant hug. You feel like crying again. This was supposed to be unserious, but you can’t help but already feel at home. 
“It’s nice to meet you too. Your hair clips are so cute!” 
You exchange pleasantries for a moment before you hear creaking. Caelus has stood up now, an unreadable expression on his face as he approaches slowly - like molasses slowly. One menacing stomp in front of the other like he’s trying to intimidate a bear. You tilt your head curiously while March spins around to look at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Group hug. Bring it in,” he answers cryptically.
March wrinkles her nose. “Why do you sound like that? You’ll creep them out!”
Caelus turns to you, looking for confirmation. Immediately, you understand what you must do. This chemistry you share with this kindred spirit should be studied in a lab under a microscope.
“Collective embrace,” you parrot. “Bring it in.”
“...so you’re both weird, huh? Just great.”
You respond by smushing both of them in a crushing hug, a chorus of giggles echoing off the walls, all three of you being the perpetrators. 
This year’s holidays are off to a great start.
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Things surprisingly don’t drag on. 
What that means is a little hard to quantify; nebulous like carbon monoxide. You can’t see it, you can’t taste it, but it certainly takes its toll. 
The first day comes to a close after a shared dinner, a feast, really - you’d never seen so much food in your life and you scarfed it down like a starving man in between conversation on every topic under the sun. You’ve fallen into the swing of things so naturally, and while that’s good, it’s a little too good.
You’ve never considered anxiety to be a formidable foe in your life. You carry conversation, pass the cornbread, spice up everyone’s lives (sometimes at the detriment of your reputation), and most importantly, you do it with a smile.
But after a night or two spent in Dan Heng’s almost spartan bedroom, tossing and turning, you’re starting to believe you’re in more trouble than you thought previously.
The nerves are easy to suppress when you’re bouncing energy off someone else, lost in the moment, because you do truly enjoy the socializing - but that feeling lingers.
And when you’re left with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling with a vengeance on the third night of your stay, all of the doubt catches up. It gains ground until your heart thunders in your chest.
You’ve learned that Himeko is buddy-buddy with the department of transportation, doubling as an engineer and cartographer. She’s even had a part in restoring defunct trains to their former glory, spearheading many vacations along the way. 
(You don’t deserve to be privy to such a meaningful story.) 
Caelus can’t ride a bike. Neither can you. Upon coming to this seismic revelation, he offered to take the plunge with you in an attempt to learn if you were interested. You agreed before he could even get the full sentence out. 
(You’re only good at goofing around.)
March insisted that you be a temporary proofreader for her own university essays, most of which being on topics you could never wrap your head around in a million years.
Shenanigans ensued until you ended up denouncing higher education as a whole, choosing to believe in her own freestyle structure rather than whatever hellish rubric was being peddled. 
(You’re too airheaded to help in a normal way.)
You’ve even grown closer with Welt. You two listened to the crackling of the old gramophone in his respective study, chiming in with your own thoughts on his archaic but classic music taste. There was a little bit of discussion on media preservation, your earnest passion pairing well with his own. 
(You’re coming off too strong.)
But you feel the worst about the man sleeping next to you. 
You’re supposed to be in your highest spirits, but Dan Heng has gotten good at spotting your tells. The tightness of your smile comes off as overjoyed to your new friends, but strained to him. The guilt of possibly ruining it all is unforgiving, tightened about your neck like an evil scarf.
He knows something’s up, and you know that he knows. It’s on you for not being forward about your struggles - hell, you’ve scolded him countless times about how he clams up about feelings and all that mess. You’re just a little bit of a hypocrite, then. What would you even say on the subject?
Sorry I’m such a buzzkill? Sorry I haven’t been more open with you? Sorry that I’m the actual wors--
You muffle a sob, burying your face in Dan Heng’s pillow. You just need to calm down, even if that means getting snot on his nice shams. You hiccup, and to your muted horror, the mattress creaks with movement.
Voice rough with sleep and alarm, Dan Heng calls out to you. You tense but otherwise refuse to lift your head up from your comfy sanctuary, chest rising and falling in snappy bursts.
You can’t face him like this, so tangled in everything you feel. You feel so unbelievably guilty, even if a more sensible part of you knows you’re just overthinking.
“Please look at me.”
If you’re making comparisons, Dan Heng must be the wind. Gentle and mild like a calming gale, never a torrent eager to knock you off your feet. No, he is sobering like a wayward breeze. His plea is so soft, and you only hate yourself a little bit for giving in and meeting his eyes.
His hair is sticking up in every direction just like yours. It’s not a foreign sight - you’ve slept in the same bed at least a hundred times, but the worried frown tugging at his lips is new. You sniffle and wipe your face, words a jumble of nonsense.
“Try to breathe. It’s going to be alright,” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll wait.”
That last part might sound impatient in some other context, but right now, it’s resolute - it’s a promise. He’ll wait until you’re ready, however long that will take.
You crumble, shakily inhaling and exhaling until you sit up to mirror his stance. You fumble to embrace him, which he accepts readily - not unused to your spontaneous acts of affection. 
However, there’s a stutter in his movements. He’s not used to seeing you so put out, you hazard, unable to even produce coherent speech.
“I love you so much,” you gasp.
“...is that what this is about? Or is there more?”
Dan Heng strokes your hair through your tearful explanation. You know you don’t make a lot of sense right now, but it’s all you can manage. He still listens with scholarly attention to detail, not doting or prying. He’s here. He’s here for you, just like you are for him.
The dam has burst. “Have I ever told you about my family?”
“No,” he admits. “Do you want to?”
So you tell him enough. You only paint a vague picture; recounting endless disagreements and fighting, being kicked to the curb and ostracized, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your barely adult life before being thrusted into college all alone with no one to watch out for you. You’ve only dropped hints beforehand - after all, who wants to reopen old wounds? 
Silence can be just as powerful of a response as spoken words. Dan Heng understands, you know that already, but the way he holds you is compelling evidence alone.
Dan Heng’s family is wonderful; being part of it makes you feel a little sick inside, somehow made worse by his ministrations. “It may be unfair of me to say, but… I think I know how you feel. My life before I came to live and travel with everyone was lonely. Lonely and painful, and you don’t deserve to feel that way. Ever.”
When you don’t respond, he continues. 
“But I’m now content to call them my cherished companions. And you,” Dan Heng emphasizes, syllables unsure despite his best efforts, “are one of them as well. We haven’t pried too much into what is painful, but I’ve always felt like we’ve never needed to. That was my mistake.”
He makes a point of thumbing the residue of your episode away, an apology in and of itself. Of course he blames solely himself, you muse, biting back a playful reprimand that wouldn’t land well right now. Your breathing regains a semblance of normalcy as you muster up enough gusto to respond. 
“No, don’t be silly. I want to talk to you more about our lives before each other, I think. Together, y’know? I-Isn’t that just so romantic? Being emotionally constipated doesn’t do either of us any favors.” 
Your tone has lightened, enough for him to notice and furrow his brows in concern. Given, you rebound at the speed of light, never wishing to linger on the bad - partially because sadness is unpleasant and uncommon, but mostly because you feel like you’re unable to. That’s just how you are. However, the way he looks at you is encouragement enough to move forward.
You feel better, you do, but your eyes are still red and puffy. The night outside is still cold and unpredictable.
“Whatever you need,” Dan Heng nods. He can only be so sworn in his promises - so determined - before you crack a smile.
“Alright, easy on the white knight talk,” you chuckle. Realizing how close you actually are, there’s a pause. You can smell the mint of his shampoo, and your arms are tangled with his in some kind of human knot that’d have Houdini sweating. “It’s weird…”
He stares at you, unimpressed. “I thought you wanted me to talk to you in a ‘Romeo’ way.”
You only huff, unable to come up with a retort for once, which is fine. You wipe your face again and drag him down with you back onto the bed, which he allows, because Dan Heng is too good for you and also happens to be a complete pushover. At least you can use your frazzled, unstable emotional state to get what you want.
Case in point: you spoon him. The covers assume their original position after you wrangle them to behave, holding him close from behind. A little part of you does this so he can’t see if you start up the waterworks again, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“It’ll be alright,” Dan Heng reminds, surrendering to your whims as always.
The dust settles and you’re inclined to believe him. There is still much time left, with Christmas day being the focal point of your visit, and you’re starting to get sleepy again. That’s always a good sign; sleepy, relaxed, and with a head drained of pressing worries - at least for the present moment.
Your eyes close, bereft of tears as you murmur your agreement.
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To your surprise and horror, this house didn’t have a Christmas tree. It’s not like it mattered that much, but it was still shocking nonetheless. With a building exploding with life, there wasn't an evergreen decked out in ornaments or a pine covered in lights to tie the room together.
Honestly, where were they going to put their presents? 
However, you forgave this transgression a day or two later under the condition that you would be allowed to pick one out. Everyone seemed to be fine with it, with you offering to cover the cost this close to the 25th - and your determined expression that would’ve been pointless to argue with. Santa Claus works hard but you work harder.
Caelus and March jumped to go with you, much to the others’ relief, and that was more than enough hands on deck for you to hop in Caelus’s car and drive to the nearest tree farm in the dead of winter, borrowing some mittens and a cute knitted hat from March so you wouldn’t become a human popsicle before your 30s.
Uh, you did get a bit lost. You had to interrogate the shit out of the GPS and one poor local to get there; the latter was not your fault by the way! Caelus just so happened to be carrying a bat and had a concerning look in his eye. That put you in good enough standing to make it there, even if the selection of trees were picked over, leaving only the runts on sale.
All three of you turned away with your hands empty, opting to make a last minute shopping trip to the mall to buy a fake one. You were against it, but your suggestion to buy three small trees and place them really close together was vetoed. “Majority rules” is totes unfair…
But the mall trip turned into a lot more when you actually got there. Both of them ganged up on you with a reminder that you haven’t gotten Dan Heng a gift yet! Honestly, you could say you regret confessing that to them earlier, but you totally needed to hear it.
Imagine you, waking up on Christmas morning with nothing to give the love of your life! Deplorable, unforgivable, and tragically heartbreaking. 
And you had a council there to help you; people that know Dan Heng just as well as you do. 
“He’s so hard to shop for,” March had groaned, flicking through racks of clothes with a dark aura surrounding her. “Trust me, I’ve tried in the past. He always says he’s fine with anything, giving me zero hints…”
“Maybe get him nothing,” Caelus suggested after, more occupied with trying to steal coins from the nearby wishing fountain. Like one does. “You could run him over and he’d thank you politely.”
Similar experiences there. He’s always been more attuned to your wants than his own, which you’ve been trying to get him to work on at his own pace. Unfortunately, the place was about to close for the night since you already spent the day gallivanting around.
The burly mall security guard looked dangerously close to kicking your trio out, with at least one of you kicking and screaming, so you had to leave empty handed again. 
The others assured you that you’d find a present in time. You decided to go with the flow and hope that the heavens above would drop one into your lap by the day of.
Spoiler alert: they didn’t! Because Christmas day is now here, and it all seems hopeless. Well, aside from the fact that you’re all settled around the coffee table and a big, burning fire is roaring in the fireplace. 
There’s still a smile on your face as Welt and Himeko tear open their presents with wise, softened gazes. You can’t let your own mistakes ruin the moment, after all.
“Truly, thank you both,” Himeko croons, looking over her respective mug and brooch with awe. “I was prepared to perhaps play up the excitement a bit, but… I’m very impressed. Dan Heng, you’ve picked well.”
He flushes. “They helped me,” he nods to you.
“No,” she laughs, “I meant you picked a good partner.”
Before you can stammer out a reply, Welt chimes in. He’s inspecting the quality of his tie with muted gratitude - his new mug seems to only serve as a reminder that he has to drink Himeko’s coffee out of it. Hey, at least your heart was in the right place!
“I have to agree. Both of you must have collaborated seamlessly to shop for our preferences.” 
Caelus, wearing his big ass jacket that you and Dan Heng bought him, sprawls out across one of the couches like a housecat. “This is a lot better than what you got me last year, Cold Dragon Young.”
Dan Heng bristles and you burst out laughing at the expression he’s making. “Cold Dragon what?”
“Ignore them,” he pleads, lips twitching upward just a smidge; a ghost of a smile. Dan Heng really does like the teasing more than he lets on. 
March was almost reduced to tears by the jewelry dish you painted for her - which is more of a jewelry box at this point - but she recovers from her reverie and endless thank yous to giggle at your partner’s expense, something that’s swiftly turning into a group effort. “One time, we all got roped into fistfighting these bad guys in a club, and after Dan Heng took care of them--”
“I was left with no other choice--”
“--then that became his ring name. Cold Dragon Young!” she finishes. 
Himeko and Welt exchange an exhausted look. You immediately decide that the moniker is going to become his contact name in your phone until the end of time. You also start wheezing (and also kind of blushing) at the idea of Dan Heng, the near-pacifist, duking it out with someone. “S-Sounds like you guys have been everywhere…”
“...we have,” your boyfriend clears his throat. You sense a topic change, or even a segue, drawing your attention. You sit up a little straighter and wipe the comically-induced hysteria from your eyes. 
He’s looking at you expectantly with some of the earlier heat coloring the tips of his ears. The room lulls into silence as he makes his way over to the tree to retrieve a box from underneath the branches, wrapped in pastel yellow with no bow.
Dan Heng hands it over, and when your skin brushes against his for a fleeting second, you feel the clamminess of his palms.
“Oh, me next?” you blink. Shaking the thing a bit too aggressively, listening for any indication of a bomb (just in case), you get a good feel of its weight. Light and mysterious. You’re too busy making mental guesses that you don’t notice Welt shepherding the others out of the room.
“Yes. I hope you like it,” he watches as you tear open the wrapping paper and the box itself. Dan Heng is so beautiful it’s almost criminal, unintentionally batting his lashes in a way that has you swallowing drool.
You scoff. “Of course I will!”
Inside the box rests… two tickets? Your mind jumps to movie tickets first and foremost, but that’s obviously not the case; the ones here are golden with faded ridges and accented with red, sparkling as you fawn over them. Then you read the printed text lining the bottom of the thin cardstock.
The Astral Express. They’re two boarding passes.
“No way,” It’s the name of the restored steam locomotive in the picture, the very same one that Himeko told you about working on during the height of her career. “Does this mean…?”
Dan Heng drinks in the surprised part of your lips, scratching at his neck. “You mentioned that you wanted to travel. I, and the rest of us, thought you’d like to accompany us on a trip. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine,” he promises. “I can get refunded, and we’ll all stay. But it’s scheduled to start the day after tomorrow and last until the new year.”
You don’t want to cry again, even if they’re happy tears, so you launch yourself into his arms as a welcome distraction. You may be imagining it, but you think you feel him slump in relief. Again. How long will it take to get it through his thick skull that he could never disappoint you?
“Duh, of course I want to! Darling, what kind of jerk would I be if I said no and made everyone cancel their plans? Oh my god, oh my god--”
“You m-may want to breathe.”
His concern is so genuine - that’s not even meant to be teasing. You scream into his shoulder, already thinking of nights spent in velvet cabins and days spent watching the cross-country scenery go by on the silver rail. With good food. Lots of it. 
“I’m breathing,” you huff, in fact, short of breath. “Thank you, Dan Heng. I love it so much.”
You pull back, box and tickets still safe in your grasp despite your earlier flailing. The magical moment fizzles, your joy stunted as guilt emerges. “But I… I didn’t get you anything. I’m so sorry, we shopped all over, and everything’s been so hectic…”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I meant what I said.”
“Huh?”
“When we were shopping all that time ago,” he clarifies. “I don’t need anything but you. And with the others coming along,” Dan Heng gestures to the tickets, everyone else’s likely stowed away somewhere safe, “It’s the best gift I could ask for, more than I could ever want.”
You don’t rebut him this time.
The guilt has all but vanished, and you pull Dan Heng into a tender kiss. This has, no joke, probably been the best break of your life so far. Not to mention you have a whole new trip to look forward to, with a whole new family at your side.
Just as you think this perfect moment is unshakable, hoots and jeers break out from behind you. You whip around, dazed, and Caelus is cheering both of you on like his life depends on it.
“Wooooo! I told you they’d like it, dude! May your love burn bright for years to co--”
…then March clamps a hand over his mouth and hauls him away. 
Dan Heng is so embarrassed that he chokes on a laugh. You make sure to join him in kind, the present moment also holding the infinite possibilities of the future.
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thank you for reading! it means the world to me 🎅🎁
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backseatsoldier · 2 days ago
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"Broken", Not Stupid - 3
Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)
CW: Omegaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization
Author's Note: If y'all keep feeding the Author Dragon inside me (comments, likes, reblogs), the Author Dragon is going to keep feeding me ideas. So here we GO-
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All of the red flags and alarms light up in Simon's head. She said her name is 13.
What the hell kind of place is this?
"Are all of you, the omegas here- do you all have numbers for names?" he asks through gritted teeth.
"Yeah. Weird, right? It was like that in all the facilities I've been in," 13 explains with a shrug.
As if sensing the anger boiling in Simon's mind she shakes her head.
"Not here," she whispers. "If they hear you questioning things, you'll be banned from all Salvation locations with some bullshit reason. You wanna be mad, do it off the property and away from their eyes and ears."
13 pauses for a moment, checking their surroundings before continuing with determination in her eyes.
"Take me in. I'll tell you what I know and can remember. Then you can do what you want with the information."
"What do you mean 'what you can remember'?"
Her hand shoots up, covering his already masked mouth, to stop him.
"Hush! Just... do the paperwork so you can take me in and I'll explain when I'm out of here," she whispers harshly.
Then 13's entire demeanor changes. She becomes... an omega. Then her hand slides down his cheek to his chest and she looks up at him with puppy-love eyes.
"I never thought I'd find an alpha. I'm just so weird and wrong," she pouts.
The scent of one of the beta workers, Jenny, catches Simon's attention. 13 is acting - she must have also smelled Jenny approach. She's putting a lot of trust in someone she just met, but Simon's glad it's him and not any of the other alphas that walked in today.
"Is everything alright, sir? UK-009-0013 isn't usually the... sociable type," Jenny addresses Simon hesitantly.
Jenny's description of 13 makes a look of annoyance flash over 13's face briefly before returning to the puppy-love look. Simon's arm snakes around 13's waist to pull her a bit closer.
"Seems plenty 'sociable' to me," he counters, playing along with 13's act. His free hand comes up to gently cup her cheek. "I'll be taking this omega."
Jenny's jaw drops and her eyes go wide.
"Oh! Um, yes! Of course, sir! I'll get the paperwork started right away," Jenny says, excitment radiating from her as she dashes off.
Once Jenny's gone, 13 steps back and drops her hand from Simon's chest, puppy-love look gone.
"Glad you caught on. Sorry for invading your space so suddenly, though. They get suspicious if we don't seem all lovey-dovey before someone agrees to take us," 13 explains non-chalantly.
"I appreciate the apology, but it's not necessary," Simon says with a dismissive shake of his head. "If it means I can figure out what's going on and get at least one of you safe, I'll do it."
"Knight in shining armor type?" she snorts.
"No. Soldier who's willing to get his hands dirty to keep the world clean," he corrects her firmly.
And he'll gladly get his hands dirty to find out what kind of shady operation Salvation truly is if it means getting all of these omegas to safety.
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Masterlist | Part One
Tag list: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog
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mclacedes · 1 day ago
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A Fading Echo (LH44)
CHAPTER II: Going Home
a/n: this is NOT PROOF READ
warnings: breakup, abu dhabi ‘21, rude!lewis, depression, gaslighting, fighting
★ previous chapter
★ next chapter
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“For a moment, he wanted to break down and beg Willem not to leave. Don't go, he wanted to tell him. Stay here with me. I'm scared to be alone.”
- Hanya Yanagihara, "A Little Life"
He remembers your final battle—the fight that ended it all; the decision-maker, the deal-breaker.
Four years. You had been together for four beautiful, though turbulent, years. The kind of love story that felt unshakable, weathering the storms life hurled your way. You had your own career, pursuing the dreams you’d cherished since you were a kid. You were finally at a stage in life where everything felt like it fit perfectly. And with him by your side, it seemed like nothing could go wrong.
By 2020—your third year together—things had grown serious, the kind of serious that made people whisper about rings and forever.
You still remember the phone call in March 2020, just as the world began to crumble under the weight of a pandemic, when asked you the question, his voice calm but carrying a thread of anticipation.
“Quarantine with me. In the UK,” he said, his words slicing through the static.
You froze, caught completely off guard. The emotions hit you all at once—joy, anxiety, disbelief—so quickly that you couldn’t string a coherent thought together.
“Y/n?” His voice softened. “You still there?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you stammered, your mind still reeling. “I’m just… a little unprepared for that question.”
The pandemic was spiraling into chaos. Quarantine was the new normal, with no end in sight. Weeks? Months? Years? No one knew. There was no vaccine, no cure, just endless uncertainty. The thought of being confined in one place for so long felt suffocating.
“It's just… That's not my house, I don't know if I’ll…” he had this unbearable habit of cutting you off in the middle of a sentence.
“I know, but we can make it home,” you could tell he was beaming with pride for coming up with that sentence. “Home is wherever you are.”
It sounded like a promise. Like he was for real.
“Besides, there won’t be any races for a while. Things will be peaceful, quiet… just us. I think we can make it fun at home, huh?”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Despite the fear and uncertainty, the thought of being with him—just him—was comforting.
You took a deep breath, letting the idea sink in. “Okay, it sounds nice,” and you smiled.
And it was nice. More than nice, really. Those weeks together were filled with laughter and quiet moments, a bubble of peace in a chaotic world.
Eventually, though, he had to leave again. Racing had resumed, and his life called him back to the track. You went to as many races as you could, though he always worried.
“I don’t want you catching that thing,” he’d say, his protective nature shining through.
You’d laugh it off, but you knew he meant it. Those months felt like a rhythm you could get used to—brief separations and joyous reunions. You thought you had found your balance.
But cracks have a way of forming when you least expect them—because people talk. They speculate. They conspire. Perched on the edges of lives they don’t know, they wait for their chance to unravel something beautiful.
Your relationship became a sweet treat for an internet starved for the meanest way to make somebody seem interesting, a spectacle to devour and distort—somebody had to feed those vultures.
By mid-2021, Twitter was buzzing with talk of rings, cradles and bibs. People dissected your (and his) every move, searching for signs of the next big step. But while the world fantasized about your future, Lewis was consumed by a fight of his own—that year's championship; the toughest battle since 2016, since Nico.
You knew his career had always been his first love, the thing that made his heart pump and his eyes shine long before they settled on you. Just as you had your own dreams to chase, he had his. And in 2021, those dreams demanded everything from him—his time, his attention, his softness, and, it seemed, his love for you.
By late 2021, the cracks in your once unshakable foundation had grown too wide to ignore. The championship consumed him, pulling him further away, and you—desperately holding on—began to feel more like an obligation than a partner.
It started with the little things: unanswered texts, “I was catching up on data”, missed calls, conversations cut short with a distracted “Sorry, I’ll call you later”. Later never came thought. Even when you were physically together, his mind was elsewhere, a thousand miles ahead, already focused on the next race, the next strategy meeting, the next battle on track.
You tried to understand. You reminded yourself of his passion, his drive, the fire that had drawn you to him in the first place. But understanding didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.
Then it crumbled. December, after Abu Dhabi. It was like everything started to shut down, like multiple organ failure—there’s no surgery to save your relationship. The worst part is that you knew it—you both. The even worse part was that you let it go so easily.
The fallout from that race was cataclysmic, not just for him but for you too. He came home shattered—a man stripped of everything he’d worked for, everything he believed in. You wanted to be there for him, to help him rebuild, but he wouldn’t let you in. He was silent, withdrawn, a ghost of the man who had once made you feel like the center of his universe.
“I’m here if you wanna talk,” you had reassured him once, your voice soft, during a quietly bitter dinner.
“I don’t want to,” he replied sharply, his tone cold and clipped, not even looking up from his plate.
“I know, but what I mean is that—”
“I know what you mean, Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice laced with impatience. “Please, can we just eat?”
The finality in his words stung, sharp and unforgiving. Recessive and heartbroken, you nodded, lowering your gaze to the plate of food you had poured your heart into making—a meal that now tasted like ash in your mouth.
The days dragged on after that, each one heavier than the last. Conversations became sparse, filled only with superficial pleasantries or curt exchanges. The man who used to pull you into his arms and make you laugh until your sides ached now felt like a stranger in your own home.
And then came the day he told you he was leaving.
“I’m going over to my parents,” he said one evening, his voice flat, drained of its usual warmth, as the chill of December crept into the Monaco air.
You blinked, still sitting on the couch surrounded by a scattering of holiday cards you’d been addressing. The weight of his words took a moment to settle.
“Didn’t know they’d spend Christmas with us,” you said, absent-minded, not understanding what he meant yet.
“No,” he clarified, his tone cool and detached. “I’m going home.”
The room seemed to close in around you, the once-welcoming space now feeling alien and far too empty. “Okay… I’ll pack my bags,” you said quickly, standing up abruptly, as if to act like nothing had changed. “How long are we staying there? I hope you’re aware that I’m going home for New Year’s—”
“No, Y/N.” He cut you off, his words sharp enough to slice through the air. “I need to go by myself. Just me and my parents for once.”
Your breath hitched as you processed his words. “Oh. Umm… Okay,” you managed to say, your throat tightening, tears threatening to spill. “It’s just that we… we had planned this. We were supposed to—”
“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Plans changed.”
The dismissal stung, sharp and biting, like a slap to the face. And then, the silence.
“What happened, Lewis?” you asked, the crack in your voice betraying the storm brewing inside.
“How is that even a question?” he snapped, his brow furrowed, disbelief coloring his words. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration leaking from his every pore. “It’s right in front of you, Y/N. It’s been right in front of you.”
“No, it hasn’t!” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ve been shutting me out for months. I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore because you won’t talk to me! You won’t let me in!”
“Oh, so now this is my fault?” he retorted, his voice rising, defensive. “I’m the bad guy for not wanting to drown you in my shit? For needing space to deal with the fact that my career—my legacy—was torn apart in front of the entire world?” He turned his back on you, heading toward the hallway that led to your shared bedroom.
“That’s not what I’m saying, Lewis!” you shouted, following him, the frustration boiling over. “The thing is, you made me believe we were a team. We’d face things together. And now, when it matters most, you’re shutting me out!”
But he didn’t listen. His steps were heavy, his mind already elsewhere.
“You said you’re going home!” You screamed, and this time, he finally stopped, his body tensing.
He turned around, his face a storm of frustration. “I am going home, Y/N. What’s so hard to understand about that?”
“What happened to ‘home is wherever you are, Y/N’?” you repeated, your voice shaking with raw emotion. “This isn’t your home anymore? After everything we’ve built together, I’m not your home?”
He scoffed, a cruel sound that sliced through the air. “You’re twisting my words.”
“No, I’m not!” you retorted, your heart pounding, desperate to be heard. “I’m just trying to understand why you think running back to the UK and shutting me out is the answer to anything. You barely even look at me anymore, Lewis. Do you even want me here?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed, his tone sharp, though still defensive.
“It means you’ve kept me on the edge for so long. You’re here, but not really. And when you’re gone, we don’t talk. You disappear. I’m not even a part of your life anymore!” You could feel the tears in your throat, but you fought them back. “You dismiss everything we talked about—marriage, kids, a future. Like none of it matters to you anymore. Like you don’t want me in your life at all. It feels like you hate me!”
“Argh, here you go again,” he snarled, his fists clenching. “Shit, you always do this,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Always making it about you,” his index pointed straight at you.
“Because it is about us!” you cried, your voice breaking. “It’s about me too, isn’t it? I’m not some option you can just turn off when you don’t feel like dealing with me!”
“Well, I’m the one dealing with shit right now,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with anger. “And instead of supporting me, you’re interrogating me, saying I don’t care about you. You think that talking about babies and rings is going to fix anything? You don’t get it, Y/N! You’re so focused on your timeline, on what you think I should be giving you, that you can’t see that I’m falling apart!”
You stood frozen, the sting of his words slicing through you like ice. “That’s not fair, Lewis. I’ve been supporting you—”
“Have you?” he interrupted coldly, his voice full of bitterness. “Because all I hear is how you feel. I’m the one who’s lost everything, but somehow, I’m the one to blame. You’ve made this all about you.”
“You keep saying you’ve lost everything, but no,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears now spilling. “You haven’t lost everything. Your legacy is still there. You’re a legend. It’s always going to be remembered. But you’re so lost in your own darkness that you can’t see what’s still in front of you. You’ve lost a championship, so what?”
Lewis’s face twisted with rage, his eyes seething as he glared at you. “So what?” he echoed bitterly. “You think it’s just about a damn race? It’s not just the championship, Y/N. It’s everything. They took it from me. They stole it from me, right in front of everyone’s eyes. And all you can do is lecture me like I’m being unreasonable? You’re standing here talking about legacy and what I’ve achieved, but none of that matters if it’s all been ripped away. What’s left of me when they’ve taken everything?” he said, forcing himself to maintain his composure.
“Yeah, and what's left of us, Lewis?”
The words hit him harder than you expected, and for a moment, he was silent, his jaw tightening. His chest heaved, and his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of pain and frustration swirling in them.
“What do you mean, what's left of us?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly, as though he was trying to understand.
“We,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. “What’s left of us when you shut me out like this? When you push me away every time I try to help you, every time I try to understand? What happens when you keep giving them, the media, more than you give to this relationship?”
“I don’t think I have the mindspace to dwell on that anymore, Y/N,” He stood there, seemingly distant, his eyes avoiding yours now. The air between you both felt colder, thicker, like an impenetrable wall had risen between the two of you.
“See? That's what I’m talking about! You’ll just run away, packing it up and not talking to me. You can’t just not think about it, Lewis,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “You can’t just shut everything out because it’s easier than facing it. This relationship—us—it’s not a convenience, it’s not something you can just leave behind when it doesn’t fit your narrative anymore.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for a retort but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said, “I can’t give you what you need right now, Y/N. I can’t be the person you want me to be.”
“I don’t need you to be perfect, Lewis,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I just need you to let me in. I need you to trust me enough to share the weight.”
He shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is!” you insisted, the tears you’d been holding back spilling over now. “You’re choosing to leave me out. You’re actively choosing to push me away. That’s not about the championship or your career—that’s about us. And it’s killing me, Lewis.”
For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, his face a blank mask. And then, in a voice so quiet, so small, it shattered your heart, he said, “Maybe we were never as strong as we thought we were.”
The words slammed into you like a punch to the gut, leaving you gasping for air. “You don’t mean that,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, cracking under the weight of the truth you didn’t want to face.
Time seemed to slow as he reached for his house keys, his car keys, and the packed handbag—each movement like a dagger slowly twisting deeper into your chest.
“Lewis, no,” you begged, your voice raw, desperation flooding your veins. “No, please, don’t do this. Please stay…”
But he didn’t look back. He didn’t even flinch at your broken cries.
“I’ll see you around,” he muttered, his words empty, hollow. His tone was void of everything that once mattered. Without another word, he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him with a deafening finality.
The silence that followed was suffocating, the sound of the door’s closure ringing in your ears like a death knell. You were left standing there, frozen, in a sea of devastation. Alone. Lost. And questioning everything that had once been so sure.
Nothing was ever the same after that.
For him, that wasn’t just the loss of a championship—it was the loss of himself. Of everything he thought he could hold onto.
You watched helplessly as he sought solace in everything else—the noise, the distractions, the empty comforts—anything but you. Everyone else seemed to understand the depths of his pain, the weight of his loss, except for you. And that fact stung worse than anything he’d said.
That night, you let yourself slip into a crying spiral, tears falling uncontrollably, each one a reflection of the pain that had consumed you. You didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt like hours, your chest tight and raw. Eventually, exhaustion dragged you into a restless sleep, the emptiness settling around you.
A few weeks later, after trying to collect yourself and make sense of the pain, you sent one text.
you: i’ve taken my thing out of your house in Monaco. i’m breaking up with you.
You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button, as though giving yourself a moment to breathe before the finality of it.
With a shaky exhale, you pressed send. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had built up, everything that had been left unsaid. The knot in your chest didn’t loosen. It didn’t change anything. But it was done. And as you stared at the screen, the absence of a reply was just another confirmation that it was over.
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bisexualgenderfemme · 1 day ago
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In many many ways I agree with this post, including the most important thrust of it, but I have to strongly disagree on one small point.
full out saying this:
"when someone knows we're trans we're treated like a woman no matter what." (emphasis mine)
IS NOT TRUE!
maybe this is nitpicky, maybe this is just bad phrasing, but as this is? this is self defeatist, basically doomerism, & honestly makes me really dysphoric. like apparently everyone all the time is thinking about how I'm a woman just bc they know I'm trans? that's not true, plenty of people gender me correctly & actively think of me as a man, even when they know I'm trans.
YES! trans men face abuse & assault & job discrimination & all the other /specific examples/ listed, but this isn't it. Trans men are not doomed to be judged first as a woman in every situation they're in. there are absolutely times when, even though someone knows you (the general 3rd person you) are trans, you are still a man to them.
in fact, this is /part of/ why trans men face unique oppression, to some people you are not a woman, you are a trans man, and /that/ is what is being oppressed. that's part of why anti transmasculinity is its own thing & not just a copy of what cis women face.
This idea that everyone treats me like a woman "no matter what" upon learning I'm trans is directly contradictory to my lived experience. I am personally beyond the point of being viewed as a woman by most transphobic peoples standard bc I've 'ruined' my body so much that the judgement on my being trans I get the most is a third gendering/degendering/monsterizing experience. This is a reality many trans men, myself included, face & saying that everyone always views us as women actually prevents us from seeing our selves represented or getting the help we need.
again! maybe op meant something more like "often times when someone finds out you're trans they treat you like a woman after that no matter what" or "when someone is transphobic & they find out you're trans you often are reduced back to woman." which are both definitely true things I have experienced (tho more earlier in my transition) & I want to give that the benefit of the doubt, but I also don't want trans mascs/trans men to see this, read it as I did, & internalize the idea that everyone is secretly thinking "woman."
You can be viewed as a man! there are many people who will view you as a man whether they know you are trans or not, they will treat you like a man, (though unfortunately that sometimes means some of them treating you like a TRANS man) they will allow you to move through the world as a man. That doesn't mean everyone always will, or that passing isn't context dependent, or that passing privilege is real, or that passing isn't conditional: those are also all true! this is a complicated & nuanced subject where many things are true at once, that's why the finality, the totality, of
"when someone knows we're trans we're treated like a woman no matter what."
rubs me wrong. I don't want other trans men to give up hope.
im not sorry the truth of the transmasculine experience is ugly. i'm not sorry that we have to frequently discuss sexual and physical violence and abuse. i'm not sorry that we have to discuss violent physical abuse and death. i'm not sorry that we have to discuss homelessness, mental illness, addiction, disabilities, and other challenges in life.
we struggle. we do not instantly gain male privilege the second we come out. even if we pass. when someone knows we're trans we're treated like a woman no matter what. we can sometimes get lucky and pass with strangers but eventually people around us find out because people tell each other without our consent.
we face all kinds of abuse due to the fact that people feel entitlement to our bodies, regardless of what our AGAB is. they feel entitled to our faces, our hair, our entire appearance. they focus on the face that we're ruining something "pretty". they threaten corrective sexual violence to remind us that we're "just women". it happens constantly. this is not an isolated incident and virtually nobody wants people to talk about it when it comes to transmasculine people.
trans men often get injured for one reason or another. usually because someone wants to make them "prove" they're a man, to "toughen them up" or to "prove to them that they're a woman". sometimes this results in sexual assault. other times it results in physical assault. and sometimes people just kill trans men. all because they hate that a "woman" can transition into a man.
it's an ugly part of our reality but it needs to be discussed because otherwise people use the lack of that conversation as ammunition to say transmascs don't struggle.
transmasculine people struggle to stay housed. transmasculine people get kicked out of their living situations very often for many reasons. it's hard for transmascs to get jobs because often times people want either a man or a woman for a specific position and fuss over what they think the transmasc's gender is. misgendering is a huge issue at work. going stealth at work can be painful. being in the closet at work can be painful
transmascs are often disabled and struggle to get care due to people not taking AFAB patients' pain and symptoms seriously. this is a huge issue with any kind of AFAB person or any woman. all woman and AFAB people struggle with having their symptoms taken seriously when seeking serious medical attention to the point of possibly being undiagnosed for life, thus being unable to get on disability. trans women face this just as much as AFAB cis women, it's a huge issue in the medical industry
transmasculine people struggle to say on their hormones (or access them at all). testosterone is a controlled substance in many countries which means that you need a prior authorization to get the medication and need to consistently see a provider to get blood tests and check ups. it can be difficult to do so if you are low income and sometimes certain pharmacists will intentionally find ways to withhold hormones due to their own prejudices
transmasculine people struggle to get pregnancy support and care. it is very difficult for transmasculine people to figure out how to navigate their pregnancy, either due to their HRT provider not knowing much about pregnancy, or having a gynecologist who's not familiar with transmasculine health.
transmascs get denied from spaces made for men constantly. even if they pass, if word gets around that they're trans they can easily be kicked out of a space. transmasculine lesbians are often removed from lesbian, transmasc and/or non binary spaces. transmasc butches are often ostracized from all communities their identities correlate to. trans men and transmasc enbies are seen as a threat to women.
there is ugliness in every pocket of the queer community when it comes to how cisheteronormative society treats us. we all face disgusting treatment that needs to be addressed. it's important to consider how this system affects everyone underneath it. we need to talk about the positive things, it's good to help those are questioning, but we also must discuss what struggles we face in order to humanize ourselves and show that we people, too. none of us have it easy.
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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 days ago
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AN: I want to take a moment to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy Holiday or a really good wednesday. Be good, be kind, don't lick doorknobs.
CW: smut, Luci being a sad sack of shit, threesome, two dicks in one hole, oral
Summary: On a rare snow day in hell, the residents of the hotel indulge in a snowball fight that has a rather enlightening ending, revealing unlikely teammates and what you would have considered even less likely feelings. The solution to the frosty mess? Even more surprising.
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Snow glittered in the dim light of hell’s sun. You were eager to get out of the hotel and into the snow. It had been decades since you had seen snow, an actual torture you hadn’t been aware you were suffering from until a Christmas miracle struck and hell rather literally froze over. 
It didn’t take long for the hotel residents to join you. Snowballs flew through the air, pelting residents. You seemed to be disproportionately the target of the attacks. It had to have been Alastor. You were so sure of it, and yet every time a snowball landed, it came from the wrong direction. 
He was innocent of the frozen crimes you had so badly wished to accuse him of and that was making you all the more angry. It didn’t help that you couldn’t seem to do more than land a glancing blow with your own balls. 
You were ready to scream and then you saw it. 
“Are you fucking serious?!” you raged, catching sight of Alastor’s shadow holding a bright white ball of icy terror and getting ready to send it to you. He had the manners to at least look sheepish when he was caught before melting away. 
Alastor knew he was caught, holding his hands up as he tried to convince you he was innocent of the snowy crimes you accused him of. You wouldn’t hear any of it, raging at him as you compacted a snowball, trying to look as threatening as you could. 
You were going to shove that snowball right into his charming, handsome face as he laughed. Just as you were going to shove that icy ball into his face, a wave of cold washed over you. 
White was everywhere and then all you could see was red. Everything went black as the force of the snow pushed you forward and down, crashing you into Alastor. The two of you fell in a heap, limbs tangling as snow buried the both of you. 
You gasped, snow filling your mouth as the weight piled onto you. Over the blanket of snow, you could just hear the sound of Lucifer laughing, surely filled with glee over having caught Alastor for once. 
You struggled, wiggling and fighting to get free from the cold embrace of the snow. At first, you hadn’t realized the impacts of where you landed until you heard the gasping moan of Alastor and felt… oh. You felt a lot of Alastor’s body under you, even parts of his body you hadn’t thought you would ever feel at all. 
“I am so, so sorry.” You whispered, eyes wide and body frozen in place as Alastor throbbed against your hip. Heat rose in your face as you felt his hardness twitched against you. “I swear- we don’t have to ever talk abo-” 
Hot lips crashed against yours as Alastor leaned up. For a moment, you thought it was somehow an accident. Alastor surely wouldn’t be kissing you. Doubt swirled in your mind until you felt his hand slip around the back of your neck, holding you in place. 
Cold water soaked into your hair, ran down your neck as it melted around you. Alastor’s hips twitched, pushing his hardness into you in a barely restrained attempt to get some stimulation. 
You melted with the snow, sinking into Alastor’s arms. Though you had never thought Alastor would give you a second glass, your heart pounded in your chest. The crush you harbored for Alastor was one of your most sacred secrets. 
“Finally,” Lucifer said as he scooped snow off of you. 
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice and the light filtering in through your eyelids. The idea that anyone would see your intimate moment with Alastor, unplaned through it was made you feel vulnerable. Below you, Alastor sent a wink up to the devil who had uncovered you. 
Oh. 
The world crashed down around you. They had planned this, whatever this was. 
There were so many questions you wanted to ask but the clatter of your teeth as you shivered cut off any chance of asking them at that moment. The snow had melted on your back, soaking what passed as a jacket in hell. 
“Come on,” Lucifer said, offering his hand to help you up. 
You hesitated for a moment, looking between Alastor and the king. You had thought they couldn’t stand eachother. You had thought they would never work together and yet they had. ‘Why?’ was just one more question you wanted to ask them. 
“Let’s get you inside,” Alastor said as he stood, shaking the snow from his coat. His tall red ears flicked, sending snow flying. 
Alastor’s hand rested against the small of your back, a guiding hand as Lucifer told the others they were taking you inside to warm up. Everything felt so coordinated as you stepped inside the hotel. 
How you ended up in Lucifer’s suite, wearing his dressing gown, you didn’t know. They had just led you along, not giving you the chance to turn off to your room. They walked as if they knew exactly where they were going to take you. Teamwork, once again. 
“What is going on?” you finally braved asking as Lucifer handed you a mug of cocoa. 
“What ever do you mean, darlin’?” Alastor’s smile grew wider as you shifted on the couch. 
“What do I mean?” You had to look between the two men, both sets of eyes so intently focused on you. “What I mean is you-” you pointed to Lucifer with the mug of cocoa. “buried us in snow. And then you-” you pointed the mug at Alastor. “You fucking- you kissed me.”
“Yes,” Alastor hummed, “I suppose I did.” 
“You winked at him.” Your attention was focused on Alastor as you spoke, sparing a moment to sip the offensively good cocoa. “Why? You planned this- why? What is going on?” 
“I-” Lucifer sighed, eyes flicking toward Alastor before he focused on you again. “We like you.” 
“We?” You struggled to wrap your head around the conversation you were having. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Cher, that both the Little King and I seem to have developed a deep care for you.” Alastor’s wide smile told you so very little, so you turned to Lucifer. 
“I- yes.” Lucifer nodded, eyes darting away from you.
“Then why did you help him kiss me?” You struggled to follow any of their logic.
“He thought you wouldn’t want him.” Alastor offered. “He thought you would rightfully pick me, the superior choice.” 
“Fuck you,” Lucifer snapped. 
“So, what?” You struggled to follow the conversation between the rivals turned unwilling teammates. “You just gave up?” 
“You don’t want a depressed divorced man.” Lucifer laughed. 
“Why do you get to decide that for me?” You struggled to wrap your head around what was going on. Less than an hour ago you were under the snow, kissing Alastor as his cock throbbed under you and now both men you had fancied sat in front of you, telling you they both had feelings for you. “Why don’t I get to decide?” 
“And what would you decide?” Alastor asked, setting his mug of cocoa down. “If we had given you a choice?” 
“I-” The words died in your throat. “I don’t know.” 
“How would you decide?” Lucifer asked, a hint of hope in his voice. 
“Why should I have to decide?” You pouted. “Why should I have to pick at all? 
“And that’s why we picked for you.” Alastor laughed. 
“And who says you get to pick? Why should anyone have to pick?”
“What are you saying?” Lucifer asked, setting his mug of cocoa on the table. 
You huffed, focusing your attention on your cocoa, closing your eyes as you took a sip. You didn’t even know what you were saying, what you were thinking. All you knew was that everything was too much. 
The men both moved so fast, not giving you a chance to really prepare for what came next. Lucifer and Alastor were on their knees in front of you, pulling your thighs as far apart as they would go. 
Tongues swiped up your folds, licking and sucking at your clit as the two men fought for space. The warring sensations had you gasping for breath, each talented tongue leaving you gasping. Your thighs ached with how you were spread wide. 
“Careful,” Alastor teased, looking up at you as you clutched your mug of cocoa. “You don’t want to spill.” 
“It’ll land on my head,” Lucifer teased, coming up for air. “And then we’ll have to stop.” 
“Now tell us, who’s better?” Alastor asked, tongue running through your folds again.
“I don’t,” you struggled to think through the sensations. “I can’t.” 
Lucifer shoved Alastor out of the way, worming his long forked tongue into your twitching opening. Alastor would have none of that. Lean arms slipped under your thighs and wrapped around your hips. 
“Shit,” you squeaked out the word as he lifted you up off the couch. 
“You’re hogging her,” Alastor said as he planted your back against the wall, working your thighs up onto his shoulders. 
“Fuck, Alastor!” Lucifer whined. “I can’t reach.” 
“I know,” Alastor said, as he delved back between your legs. 
He ate your cunt like a man starved. Cocoa splattered, running from the mug that tipped down, forgotten in the pleasure. Sharp teeth teased the sensitive bud of your clit. You gasped his name as the sting of pain swam within pleasure. 
“That’s right,” Alastor said, lips working against your clit as he spoke, not willing to be apart from your sweet core for a moment longer than he had to. “Sing my name.” 
As he pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm, the sound of Lucifer’s complaints drown out. The shoulder of the robe fell down, exposing skin you no longer cared about anyone else seeing. 
“Alastor,” you cried his name again and again as you came, fingers flexing as waves of pleasure ran through your body. The mug fell, crashing to the ground in a rain of chocolate covered shards. “Alastor! Alastor!” 
He let your body slide from his shoulders, wet cunt smearing down the soft, well-worn fabric of his shirt. The buttons caught, scratching your sensitive skin. 
“I think I won,” Alastor laughed as he held you to him, carrying you easily toward the large bed in lucifer’s room. 
“You didn’t fight fair,” Lucifer accused. 
“I’m not a thing to fight over,” you sighed as Alastor nestled you onto the bed. Lucifer crawled up onto the bed in front of you, naked. When he got that way, you didn’t know. His golden flushed cock stood out proudly. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alastor grumbled as he worked his bowtie free from his neck. 
“Well-” Lucifer chuckled, enjoying the way your eyes roamed his body. While he wasn’t secure about his mental health or his ability to keep a partner happy emotionally and mentally, he had no doubt of his ability to sexually satisfy.
Alastor had stolen his chance to shine orally, but Lucifer was eager enough to show his skills another way. 
“Put your clothes on. It was my name she was screaming.” Alastor ran his hand over your curves, not actually bothering to cover where your legs met. 
“Who said she picked yet?” Lucifer countered, reaching out to tug the shoulder of the robe down, exposing your breast. Your pretty pink nipple slipped out from under the soft fuzzy fabric. “You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you, angel?” 
“Oh,” you moaned as he softly caressed the soft skin of your breast, running his nails over the sensitive bud of your nipple, urging it to pull tighter and tighter. “Okay,” you sighed. 
Lucifer grabbed your hip, pulling your body to him. His strong hand ran down your thigh, gripping your leg and pulling it over his hip. The blunt head of his cock ran up and down your folds, spreading your slick over him. 
“Who says you get to fuck her first?” Alastor grumbled, grinding his clothed crotch against your ass. 
“I’ll share,” Lucifer teased, “If she’s up for it.” 
“What?” You gasped as his cock nudged your clit, caressing it softly as your slick gathered on his shaft, spread between your folds as he thrust through them. 
“Would you like that?” Alastor hooked your jaw and pulled you to look at him over your shoulder. “Would you like it if we both fucked you?” 
“I-” Your attempt to answer was cut off by his lips sealing over yours in a soft kiss. 
“You did say you didn’t want to pick,” Lucifer added as you faced him again, Alastor’s hand leaving your jaw to caress your chest, palming the swell of your breast before disappearing. 
“What if we didn’t make you pick?” Alastor offered, working the buttons of his shirt free one after the other. 
“What if played nice and you could have your cake and eat it too?” Lucifer offered. 
Part of you felt like this was somehow their endgame. It felt like it had all be a game to get you here, mind foggy with desire as they offered you a deal soaked in sin. 
Any chance you had of thinking things through was gone the moment you felt Alastor’s pants shimmy down his hips. The hot weight of his cock sprang out, resting against your ass as he worked his clothes off. 
“What do you say?” Alastor whispered in your ear, hand resting on your hip as his cock twitched. 
“Okay.” You whimpered as Lucifer’s cock slipped into your wet cunt, spreading your walls around him. His size was disproportionate to his height and lean frame. The burn of your unprepped hole spreading for him was delicious. 
The head of Alastor’s cock rested against your puckered ring of muscle. He pressed forward, a slow and steady pressure that remained constant while Lucifer began his slow thrusting into you. 
“Have you ever?” Lucifer asked as he sighed, enjoying the simple pleasure he had long missed of simply being inside the body of another. 
“No.” You sighed, tense body relaxing with each smooth thrust of Lucifer’s cock through your sensitive walls. 
“We’ll take good care of you, baby.” Alastor promised, cooing the words in your ear as the head of his cock finally breached the tight ring of your asshole. Your body jumped with the intrusion, sharp pain dulling into a burning pain. 
“Shh,” Lucifer cooed, “Relax. Let him in.” 
Alastor kissed your neck as his cock twitched, the head of him just moving inside you. Each thrust into you Lucifer made pushed you back slightly more onto the cock in your ass. Pain slowly morphed into pleasure as Alastor pushed slowly deeper into your virginal asshole. 
“There you go,” Alastor whispered. “You’re taking me in so well.” 
“Gosh,” Lucifer gasped. “You’re making her even tighter.” 
“Oh god,” you whispered as Alastor finally bottomed out, hips resting flush against your plush ass. 
The men slowly began moving against eachother. Each of Lucifer’s thrusts into you pushed you back on Alastor’s cock, forcing him in deeper. Alastor returned the favor, pushing into your ass and pushing Lucifer’s cock deeper into you. 
They worked at a slow, lazy pace, soft words of praise whispered in your ears. They took turns lavishing you in sweet kisses as clung to them, both with your arms and your body. 
Sweat gathered on your skin as you trembled, overwhelmed by the feeling of the two cocks sliding against one another inside you. You were so close to your orgasm and yet part of you was terrified of cuming in that position. Would the force of it rip you apart? 
The orgasm snuck up on you, breaking the dam when you were distracted with the soft slide of their bodies against yours. Your back arched as you gasped, choking on the power of the orgasm, face nestled in the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky scent of him.
Lucifer’s lips latched onto your nipple, teasing the sensitive bud as your body twitched and spasmed, walls trying to milk the men inside your holes. 
“Fuck this,” Alastor grumbled, pulling from your twitching ass. Magic flared, burning behind you, but he didn’t give either of you a chance to question things as he grabbed your thigh, pulling it up and spreading you wider. 
“If you want us both, you’ll have to take us both.” Alastor growled in your ear.
“What are you doing?” Lucifer pulled from your nipple and looked over you to Alastor, eyes widening as he felt the dull head of the other man’s cock press against his shaft. “You’re not serious.”
“Deathly,” Alastor growled out as he pushed forward, working your hole wider. 
You gasped, nails digging into both men as you shuddered. Your hole burned as he pushed the limits of what your body could take. 
“Too much,” you cried out, “Too much. Too big.” 
“Al, she’s going to strangle us at this rate.” Lucifer couldn’t keep the moan from his voice as your hole grew impossibly tight around him, the foreign feeling of another cock pushing in alongside his. 
“You’ll be fine,” Alastor insisted, pulling his cock out slightly before pushing into you again, forcing your inner walls to make way for him. 
Lucifer grunted, the pressure of Alastor’s cock trying to crush his while your body struggled to part for him. The slick side of Alastor’s cock moving against his made it difficult for Lucifer to remain frozen in place. 
You choked on your gasps, the burning stretch consuming all of you as Alastor spread your cunt wider than you ever thought was possible. The pain was matched by the intoxicating full feeling as he settled into you, hips resting against your ass as he held your hips as weld as he could.
“Hold on,” Lucifer groaned as your walls clamped down with each move either of their cocks made. “Sit up.” 
“Why?” Alastor asked, thrusting his hips lazily into your slick hole. 
“If you- fuck- if you put her in your lap we can- stop fucking doing that, you’re making it hard to think.” Lucifer struggled and failed to resist the urge to slowly work his cock deeper into you, nestling his hips so tight against you that his balls were resting against Alastor’s. Never in the last century did he think he’d be balls to balls, dick to dick with the one man he thought he couldn’t stand. “If she’s in your lap, we can spread her wider.” 
“What?” Alastor grunted as his cock slid through your walls, moving against Lucifer’s. “Is she too tight for you?” 
Lucifer moaned, thrusting lazily against the slide of Alastor, moving through your walls. “I just- golly, I just don’t want to hurt her.” 
Alastor shifted, cradling you with his arm as he looked down at your flushed, dazed face. Your lips were parted, saliva dangerously close to falling from them as you took shallow breath after shallow breath, body shaking like a leaf in his arms. 
Leaning down, Alastor kissed you, smiling as you responded, kissing him weakly. His clawed hand gripped your side before running up your chest, cupping your sweet breast. Your heart thundered in your chest, slamming against your ribs with such force that he could feel it under his hand. 
“I think she’s doing just fine, aren’t you, baby?” Alastor purred in your ear, once again using a pet name that you never would have expected to pass from his lips. 
“Ye-” Your agreement was little more than a sigh as the cocks slid against eachother, softly fucking into you. What the thrusts lacked in power, they made up with in the way you were stretched painfully wide around the two men. 
Never, even in your wildest sexual fantasies, did you consider how it would feel to have two men fucking into your pussy at once. It spread you so tightly around them that you were sure they were going to rip you apart. The pressure of their cocks against your walls had them hitting every delicate nerve, body already painfully sensitive from the two orgasms the men had ripped from you. 
“Why don’t you kiss your king?” Alastor urged, hand wrapping strands of your hair around his fingers as he guided your head down toward the smaller man, looking up at you with a love drunk look in his lust blown eyes. 
Your fingers trembled as you reached out, caressing the soft white skin of your other lover. Soft touches traced where the black of his arms faded into gray. You caressed the flexing muscles of his arm and shoulder as he resisted the urge to chase his release before coming to rest on his chest. 
The overwhelming fullness and pleasure of having them both moving inside you made it a battle to work your muscles, but you struggled to lean into him, whimpering as the cocks continued to push and pull inside you. Your body squelched with the sound of it, each pushing through the imperfect seal. 
Lucifer wrapped his arm around you, urging your trembling body to bend to him as he worked into your cramped, warm, wet tunnel again and again. His lips met yours timidly, unsure still if you’d really want him. There was no hesitation in your response. 
You sighed into the kiss as your lips melted into his, becoming one as you breathed eachother in. Lucifer found his confidence as you clung to him, deepening the kiss with a soft swipe of his tongue. In a matter of moments, he was inside you in another way, tasting you. 
The soft sounds of lovemaking slowly morphed, changing as the pleasure became overwhelming. The bed creaked with the force of moving bodies as you lay, caught between the two men you wouldn’t have dared hope you could have as they worked your body tighter and tighter. 
“She’s getting close,” Lucifer said, lips leaving yours to return to your chest. 
“Getting so much tighter,” Alastor grunted with the force of his thrusts, pushing through walls that tried to lock both men in place within you. “Going to cum for us?” 
“I c-can’t.” Tears ran from your eyes as each man continued to work inside you, pushing you deeper and deeper into the mindless sea of painful pleasure. “I can’t.” 
“You can,” Alastor promised, “You’ve taken us so good, you can do this for us.” 
Bodies slapped into yours, the sound of them hitting your sweat slicked skin coming louder and faster as they chased their single-minded goal. All you could do was hold on to them, whimpering and begging for something, anything, as they sought to it you would come undone for them one more time. 
You came as a screaming, whimpering mess, clinging to your lovers with everything you could. Your toes curled so hard that they cramped. The blunt edges of your nails bit into whatever skin you could reach, not nearly powerful enough to break their skin. 
It felt like you were coming apart at the seams as harsh waves of pleasure pulled your muscles tight. Alastor pulled your neck back, covering your parted lips with his as he used his kiss to silence your screams.
Each man was moaning, groaning as your body begged for thier seed. Lucifer was the first to succumb to the temptation, pace turning faster and faster. The slick side of his cock against Alastor’s urged him on, drawing him into a race to the finish.
Each powerful thrust knocked the air from your lungs. The cocks within you swelled slightly, demanding more room from the walls stretched beyond their limits. They twitched against eachother, cocks rubbing your walls as you clung to what little sanity you could manage. 
There was nothing that could prepare any of you for the feeling of both men reaching their climax at the near same time. Hot ropes of cum shot from both cocks, harshly twitching against eachother as you were left a moaning, sobbing mess between you. 
The men’s fingers dug into your body, gripping you as their thrusts turned harsh, each fighting to fuck their seed deeper into you. Their essence leaked from your opening, mixing and seeping from your body in a sticky mess that tried to glue your lover’s cocks together. 
Lucifer’s cock popped from your swollen hole, slipping his messy shaft along your thigh, rubbing against Alastor as he thrusted lazily into you, slowly coming to a stop as he pulled your back into his chest. 
Lucifer looked at you, hesitating for a moment before scooting into you, placing a soft kiss on your lips as he nestled himself within your arms. Behind you, Alastor nuzzled into the soft hair at the back of your neck, breathing in the scent of you. 
“Would you have really wanted me?” Lucifer whispered, looking so much like the timid, depressed man he was under all the pride, power, and status. 
“I do want you,” you whispered, mind still on the post orgasmic cloud, preventing you from thinking about anything too hard at all. “I want you both. It’s not fair.” 
“Then have us both,” Alastor whispered in your ear. “We worked together to get here.”
“Okay,” Lucifer whispered, looking to Alastor for reassurance. Though Alastor didn’t take his head from where he was tucked against you but Lucifer still could see the slight nod of Alastor’s head. “We can be a thing, the three of us.” 
“Okay,” you sniffled, sleep pulling you under as your body relaxed, trembles slowly beginning to come to a stop. 
What tomorrow would look like, you didn’t know. How this thing between the three of you would work out, you didn’t know. All you knew is for the first time in both your life and your afterlife, you felt safe tucked into their arms. 
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directdogman · 3 days ago
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Dialtown is the most USA-core game I've ever played. It's so fucking American that it's scary, and I've lived there my entire life! Like, this feels fundamentally tied with the game's themes and narrative, that's how extreme it is. And it's not even alienating OR nationalist?? It makes such genuine commentary? And then there's so much other shit to think about too; Dialtown has a very real identity outside this that anyone could love?
One: I am VERY impressed that you have done the USA and its people this well. I am actually astounded, bewildered, and chuffed. I've never felt so seen by a video game, culturally-speaking. I didn't even know there was a culture to see.
Two: WHY did you do that. Dialtown is like USA Culture Absurdified: The Visual Novel. What drove you to make a game this rich with American culture and ideas???
Hello!
It would've been odd for an outsider (non American) who enjoys reading up on history to make my setting nationalist or alienating. America is a country with a lot of serious issues. You can't really study how America is (and has been) internally run without facing glaring and obvious systematic issues. DT's setting is one of scarcity and most of the main characters you follow in DT are kinda just scraping by without much hope for true mobility/advancement. A lot of Americans (especially younger generations) would agree this sorta encapsulates the national mood of the country right now.
Of course, the systems that run a country don't define its citizens - many of the finest people I've ever known are American and are victims of the whims of those with power, not willing participants in this system. I could be wrong, but that's why I think the setting connected with a lot of people. We all know Randys, Olivers + Karens, people who've fallen through the cracks in some way. To them, America's spirit of self-determination isn't about individual identity - it's more "you're on your own."
Why I chose to set DT in America would be a novel length answer in of itself, but it mainly came down to history + narrative opportunity. I wanted to set the game in the epicenter of where the phone-revolution came from and Crown likely couldn't have pulled his plan off anywhere else and probably not during any other time. It had to be 1960's America.
Of course, some parts of DT are sorta universal and were inspired by the the Great Recession and what followed. I remember there was an area not that far from my house that was full of green fields when I was born and when I was a kid (and when real estate boomed), stuff started being built there. Parts of it looked really nice, not quite like anything nearby. Like the future was coming. Then the economy crashed and stuff was left sitting there, half-built for like a decade. Skeletal, unfinished buildings. DT is much the same.
There's a feeling that the city could've been something better and while things could be more equal, it does feel like there are no easy solutions to fix everything - unless someone very smart and determined somehow bypassed every safeguard that was set up to halt radical change and enacted a genius plan to somehow eliminate scarcity. It happened once and might never again.
I don't think most people understand the intricacies of stuff like global commerce all that well (myself included), but when you're sitting looking at a half built neighbourhood mere hours after speaking to a friend who just kicked out of rented accommodation and doesn't have a stable family unit to fall back on, you'd have to be a real dolt not to understand that things aren't great right now. Most people are scraping by and feel if they could just get affordable housing locked down, if they had maybe one good opportunity - maybe there's hope that things could change for the better.
The end of DT isn't really utopian, things don't massively change for the better and indeed, the town has a lot of rebuilding to do. But, a collection of lonely people are now looking out for each other and through the relationships they have, now feel like they have a place in this world. That no matter how bad things really get - they aren't truly by themselves anymore. Most individuals don't have the means to significantly advance change on their own - but you can live your life, love those around you and support others and plan for when the opportunity to affect change comes about.
I guess that's what life is, in America or anywhere else. Sorry I rambled for so long. Hope this answered the question!
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old-fandom · 2 days ago
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I love the idea of Dipper and Mabel being so suspicious of Stancest but always being wrong in their conluscions.
Like, Stanley and Stanford leaving in the middle of the night when they think the twins are sleeping and don't come back till an hour or two, usually very happy and sometimes disheveled. Mabel is the first to notice when she wakes up from the car leaving the driveway but falls back to sleep almost immediately. She tells Dipper in the morning, who writes it off as some old man thing, but they keep catching it at random times. Dipper and Mabel end up confronting them about it and the Stans think they've been found, only for Mabel and Dipper to accuse them of going on night time adventures without them. Mabel specially believes they are also going to ice cream afterwards. (Stan and Ford leave at night to drive to a town over and park at their version of make out mountain and get into some hankey pankey. They do this to make sure they don't get caught by the twins and because making out in a car makes them feel like teenagers again.)
Another time, Dipper and Mabel catch on to an increasing amount of lovey dovey sickening pet names that Stan and Ford use on each other. It's always at random and always elicits some kind of glare and blush from the other. Dipper categories them all up, which names gets which response, how often each one is used, where they use it, what are they doing. Mabel puts the pet names on a Love Dovey scale ("Yes, Dipper, Baby goes above Honey, everyone knows that!") When they confront the Stans, who believe they have actually been found out this time, they reveal their findings. They believe that they are teasing each other in some secret code and each nickname is associated with some kind of failed romantic story, one that the other is embarrassed about. Mabel demands to hear the backstories to the pet names while Dipper wants to know where this teasing originated from. (Stan and Ford just got overly mushy on the ship and decided to kick cringe out of their lives and live it to the fullest. Ford likes using Beloved, My Love, Darling while Stan likes using Sweetheart/Sweetie, Doll/Dollface, Honey. However, they do use Baby to tease each other, though it is still a pet name,)
Then there's the horrible, god awful moment where the Stan Twins truly, honestly, terrifyingly believed they got found out. Mabel and Dipper to yelling at them, demanding answers, screaming at them, "How could you, you're brothers!" Both of them red in the face, angry and hurt. The Stans feel so sick about it, thinking they hid it so well and now they were going to lose everything. However, that feeling breaks when the twins reveal that they believe that Ford and Stan are still fighting, physically fighting. Dipper points out that sometimes one of them is hurting more than normal, usually after they all go to bed, and it's hard for them to walk. Mabel says she's even heard them yelling at each other and is in tears at the idea of her Grunkles fighting and hurting one another. Stan rectifies the situation immediately, telling the kids that they caught them red handed. They were fighting, consensually. He tells them that Ford wanting some old Boxing lessons and that the best time to do them is at night so he can focus and not accidently hurt one of them if he lost control of his swing. He also knew how much it hurt the twins to see them fight, so they thought it was better to hide it from them, but he says that he was wrong. The twins take this for what it is and spend the rest of the day asking to see them practice, which the Stans do happily. (They were boinking. Ford's a bottom.)
I love them so much. It's going to be a *10 years later* Dipper with a spoon of cereal half way into his mouth and Mabel dipping her pancakes in syrup. "It wasn't boxing lessons."
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just-sg · 3 days ago
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And if "just ignore them and write it anyway" doesn't overcome the anxiety, here's alternate advice:
Remember that these are opinions, and it is perfectly reasonable to consider others' opinions, but if you ask enough people, there WILL be mutually exclusive opinions out there. You CANNOT please everyone, as in it is literally physically not possible, you have slightly higher odds of your molecules lining up exactly the right way to jump through a solid wall. There is not a single decision you can ever make that will avoid the chance of someone not liking it; if enough people see your work, someone WILL have an issue with something, which means you don't have to worry about "what if". Might someone misunderstand? Might someone find it annoying or boring or upsetting? Immutably, yes; if the answer is ever no it just means not enough people have seen it yet. So stop trying to do the impossible!
And once you've got that part, think about what you can control. Look at the opinions you're worried about and actually break them down. Why does dirtysocks574774757 hate that trope?
If it's "overdone", is that actually a problem? Is it popular because many people enjoy it? Is it a little cliche, but something you personally enjoy seeing in other words even knowing that it is? Or if the problem with "overdone" is that it's overshadowing other good options, does anything else appeal to you? Is there a way you can add a unique twist to the trope, keeping what you like while also making it stand out and having all the more fun with it?
If it's "unrealistic", are you trying to be realistic? Is this an escapist fantasy or personal venting where making things better/cooler/gritter/edgier/whatever than real life is part of the point? Is pushing this idea harmful, and if so, what about it is the problem? Is there a way to address that part without avoiding everything even slightly adjacent to the trope with a 40 foot pole?
Remember that no one's opinion is objective law. Even if something is overdone to a point of becoming a stereotype, as long as that stereotype isn't spreading harmful misinformation or actively shitting on people, it doesn't mean you have to avoid anything that even might look close as much as possible at all costs, it means be careful.
Ex: Your gay character can be flamboyant, I promise; the problem isn't camp gays existing, it's when the one (1) gay character or couple in a series is always Like That and little if anything else. So just don't do that part! Remember context, too. It's very different having a whole group who all act a certain way vs a group where only one/some do, ya know? I know this post was more about pet peeves and stuff but I'm saying, if even stuff that can be genuinely bad doesn't have to always be, then you also definitely shouldn't be stressing harmless fun tropes.
Above all else: remember it's better to do something right than to do nothing wrong. There is no amount of effort you could put in to make your work appeal to everyone, but the closer you get to making it tolerable to everyone (still impossible to achieve fully), the less likely you are to appeal to much of anyone. So don't worry yourself to death (or worse, to a point of never making anything) avoiding everything that might be offputting. Instead, when you find yourself worried about a potential issue, examine it, weigh your options, and make a conscious choice about if you want to keep, alter, or scrap it. As long as you're being mindful about your decisions rather than just throwing things in with no regard, you should be FINE.
People relate to messy complex characters, and what one person finds "unrealistic" could just be a thing they don't get, but that makes someone else feel incredibly seen and validated. People like stupid indulgent fantasies! And if you need proof people will actively seek out and enjoy reading the same shit over and over, look no farther than "Coffee Shop AU" or "Only One Bed".
In the end, there's little more powerful than passion from a creator. Write what you like, write what you'd want to read, make the points you want to make. There will always be people who just don't like the things you like, and no amount of trying to water yourself down for them will make them anything more than tolerant. So write for you and the people who do like what you like, and put your whole body into it. Someone will always hate it and someone will always enjoy it, and the more you write something you enjoy, the more likely it is that the people who do like it will really, really like it. Don't hold yourself back!
hey, writers. especially neurodivergent writers with anxiety or OCD.
if you see one of those writing advice posts that is literally just, ‘these tropes suck’, ‘this story idea sucks’, ‘this sucks’, ‘that sucks’, ‘all of this is horrible’.. don’t dwell on it.
these are just random people on the internet, okay? they’re just acting like they know everything and that their personal preferences are universal.
you don’t have to listen to them, write whatever you want, regardless of if dirtysocks574774757 on Tumblr/Pinterest doesn’t like it.
(ahem, if a user by the name of dirtysocks574774757 from Tumblr or Pinterest actually does see this.. sorry 😅 i’m sure you understand)
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yurinaa-world · 2 days ago
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Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?
With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)
2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"
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💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader
💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist
💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes
💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫
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💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"
“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”
It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.
He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 
"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 
"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."
He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…
He's sort of left completely speechless by you.
“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 
“No way! It’s not finished.”
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💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 
“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”
You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.
the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.
At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 
“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 
You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 
“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”
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💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”
“Moze.”
One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.
Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”
He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.
Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.
 “Hah…how should I pose you.”
Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 
“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”
Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”
He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.
He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.
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dollyfiles · 1 day ago
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obsessive & perverted exbf!rafe sneaking into your house to remind you he’s the only one allowed to touch you
cw : dark!rafe x fem!reader, noncon, forced penetration, unprotected sex, rough, creampie
Rafe was crouching down by the flower pot, just like he used to when you two were together, feeling for the little metal key you always hid there before finally finding it. Every step up the stairs brought him closer to you, and the voice in his head grew louder. It wasn't just obsession; it was need. A sick, twisted need to own you, to claim you again, to prove to himself that you hadn't slipped through his fingers completely.
When he reached your bedroom and saw you lying there, so peaceful, so oblivious, a wave of shame washed over him. He knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't even be thinking about touching you. But the voices were taking over him.
Rafe stepped closer, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch your cheek, just like this random guy did earlier today which is why Rafe was even here in the first place. You were doing this on purpose. You had to be. Why else would you be so friendly, so flirty, right in front of him? Did you really think you could move on? Did you think he would let you?
As he climbed onto the bed, his weight barely shifting the mattress, his thoughts turned darker. He hated you for making him feel like this, hated you for pushing him to the edge. But more than anything, he hated the idea of you forgetting him. Of you giving that smile, that laugh, that body to someone else. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice rough as his hand slid down your side. "You don't get to pretend like you're not."
His hand wandered down your body, rough and possessive as he claimed what he believed was still his. Gripping your pink lace panties he pulled them down to your ankles, revealing your perfect little cunt to him. The sight almost making him cum in his pants. It had been way to long since he got to touch you like this.
You woke up with a gasp as you felt cold digits slipping through your folds, eyes wide with confusion and fear. At first, you thought you were still dreaming—it had to be a dream. Rafe wasn't here. He wasn't allowed to be here.
But his obsession had consumed him completely. He pinned your wrists above your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't look at me like that, angel. You knew this would happen. You knew I wouldn't let you go.”
Your breath hitched as his grip on you suddenly roughened, flipping you on your tummy and pressing your face into the pillows, while every gasp, every tear, every tremble of your resistance only fueled him further. This was how he claimed you, how he reminded you who you belonged to.
You’d broken things off weeks ago, desperate to escape the toxic spiral of your love. Rafe wasn't just possessive—he was dangerous. He consumed you, broke you, shaped you into something you barely recognized.
"Rafe, please," you whispered, voice shaking as you heard the buckle of his belt. "Don't do this." But he didn't listen. He never listened. "Shh," he said, his voice soft but firm, like he was scolding a child. "This is where you belong. You know it is."
Your stomach twisted at his words, holding onto the sheets of your bed as you felt the tip of his cock push past your entrance. You wanted to fight back, to scream, to push him away—but deep down, you knew it was useless. He was stronger than you, both physically and mentally. He always had been.
As his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to submit, tears welled in your eyes, but Rafe didn't see them. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't care. To him, this was love. Twisted and consuming, but love nonetheless. He made you his doll, his perfect little angel, molding you into whatever he needed you to be. And even now, after everything, you let him. It was pathetic.
He let out a deep growl once he was fully inside you, your cunt gripping him tightly even though you wanted to vomit, your body tensing up. “Shit angel, this fucking pussy missed my cock, huh?”
You cried, shaking your head uncontrollably as if it was just a bad dream, “stop, plea—“ you yelped as he pulled your back up against his chest, Rafe’s palm finding your mouth immediately and shutting you up, not wanting to wake up your parents, who were sleeping peacefully down the hallway.
He kept on pounding into you at a rough pace, hitting so deep that you knew your walls would be permanently outstretched, your abused cunt throbbing around him, despite the disgust you felt for your ex. "You think you can just forget about me?" he whispered, his voice low and breathy, one of his hands gripping your hips so hard that he knew there’d be bruises, wanting to leave his marks on you. "Flirt with some guy like I don't exist?"
His face was so close to yours, loving the sight of your tired and tear stained face, looking so small and helpless beneath him while little whimpers and cries left your lips. It was sick. He was sick.
There was nothing you could really do except take it. He was trapping your body with his hands, tightly holding you in place. he kept pushing and pushing until he the tip of his cock hit your cervix, your cunt squeezing him tightly as your fear slowly turned into something like pleasure.
You tried to you remind yourself that this wasn't love. It wasn't passion. It was control, manipulation, obsession. But a small, dark part of you—the part you tried to bury, to forget, whispered that maybe this was exactly what you deserved. You knew Rafe was anything else than okay, and yet you let yourself fall for him, and look where that got you.
“Fuck you like that shit, don’t you? Your eager pussy is holding onto me so hard, baby. Such a cockslut.”
It seemed like there was no end in sight. Except you felt something build up in your abdomen, your walls clenching around his cock as you shakily released all over him, creaming his cock. Rafe couldn’t hide his smirk, the way your body was reacting to his touch had him weak, hips bucking into you more irregularly as he was chasing release himself.
"Fuck", Rafe muttered against your shoulder, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You're perfect. Gonna fill you to the brim.” Panic shot through you, squirming in his grip but he held you in place. His thrusts became slightly faster, each one more forceful, driving himself closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your moans muffled against the palm of his hand as you felt his cock twitch, Rafe moaning out as hot ropes of his cum spilled inside your plush walls.
Your cunt was aching as he pulled out, some of his seeds dripping out and onto your velvet sheets. To Rafe it was a sight sent from heaven itself, seeing you all fucked out on your bed, knowing he was the one that got you like this.
All you could do was lay still, your body trembling as Rafe's weight completely shifted off of you. You didn't move, didn't speak as he buckled his pants, eyes focused on you while his heart was still racing. "That’s what happens when you forget," he said, his voice cold but satisfied. "You're mine, angel. Don't make me remind you again."
You let out a quiet sob, tears soaking the silk of your pyjamas as you curled into yourself. Even though Rafe hated to see you like this he felt a weird sense of satisfaction. You were his. You’d always be his. And if you’d ever try to forget, he’d be there to remind you again. Because the thruth was; you could never really escape him.
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tags .ᐟ @rafesbangs @pintrestgrl @vampteeths @ickyrafe @bambiangels @kissyrafe
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