#i could share the screenshot! it made me laugh so much

[baekhyunsbestie]

──★ ALL MINE ˙🌷͙֒ ̟ !!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: it's been months since you cut ties with your bff-turned-fwb. now, you’re stuck with a new guy who’s a total fucking letdown in the bedroom. but there’s no way you’re telling your bestie baekhyun that embarrassing detail, right? WRONG. you guys share everything. and of course, baekhyun won't stop teasing you about it—especially after another disastrous date. just when you've hit your limit, you come home to find him rummaging through the pantry, snacking like he runs the place. but don't worry, he's here to make it up to you!!!!! and by "make it up to you," i mean help release all of your pent-up sexual frustration, because that's what besties do, right? …right?!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 8.5k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. no specified age, but i'd say they're somewhere in their early-to-mid 20’s cus i can only imagine people w/o fully developed frontal lobes behaving this way, respectfully 😭🙂‍↕️ bff's to fwb's to bff's again to strangers to lovers. fluff, angst, and it ain’t a baekhyunsbestie fic if it don’t got some good ol’ nasty smuuuttttt. pet names, praise kink, cheating, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie after creampie after creampie (baekhyun deffo has breeder balls, don’t @ me), overstimulation (both f + m). you both are just two big meanie idiots who are in love with each other.

your phone lights up with a ping, the glow illuminating your face as baekhyun’s text pops up on the screen: 

✶bestie baekhyun!!!✶

aaawwww, is that your little boyfriend who can’t make you cum??? you guys are so cute together!

attached is a screenshot of your recent instagram story— you and your latest fling cozied up at a movie date earlier this evening. a date that ended with you unsatisfied, yet again. 

your gaze drifts across the room. baekhyun, lounging on the couch, meets your eyes with that signature, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. the one that makes your eye twitch in instant irritation. he’s enjoying this way too much and you want to pummel him into the ground. 

it’s been a week since you let your embarrassing little secret slip—your boyfriend can’t make you cum. and now, for seven agonizing days, your infuriating best friend has been toying with that knowledge like it’s his new favorite game. poking at your frustration with every sly comment, every teasing smirk.

you’re seething, and sexually frustrated, wound tight and ready to fucking snap. baekhyun knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing your buttons like only he can, and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or let him finish what your boyfriend never could.

it’s your bi-weekly hangout with your friend group—same old routine: catching up over movies, playing drinking games, maybe getting high, with mindless banter and a sea of snacks. the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the air as you wait for takeout to arrive. you're surrounded by your closest friends, laughing, relaxed. but beneath the surface, you’re a storm waiting to break. every fiber of your being wants to blow up at him, but you can’t. no one knows about the “friends-with-benefits” situation that crashed and burned a few months ago, and you'd be damned if they found out. it would wreck the entire dynamic, fill the room with awkward tension, and you're not about to let that happen.

it lasted as long as it could before you realized you were starting to catch feelings— which definitely wasn’t part of the deal. you couldn’t admit that to him, though. no way, it’d be too embarrassing. you’d wreck the years of friendship that you have between you. so instead, you lied. you told him you were interested in seeing someone and wanted to give it a real shot.

one of your coworkers had been persistent about taking you out, and eventually, you gave in. he was great—amazing, even. a real charmer, with looks that could stop traffic, a sharp sense of humor, and a surprising attentiveness that made him seem like the total package. except for one small detail: he couldn’t take you to that edge, couldn’t push you past the brink where pleasure turns into toe-curling bliss. you tried to tell yourself that, with time and patience, he could learn. maybe, with a few more pointers, he’d figure out how to unravel you, bit by bit. 

but the truth is, you don’t want to have to teach someone all over again. not when there’s someone who already knows every inch of your body, someone whose touch leaves you trembling without needing a single word. baekhyun. he’s the one who knows exactly where to touch, where to linger, how to make you drip with nothing but a glance or the graze of his fingers.

but, of course, it’s never that simple. because baekhyun is your best friend, and as much as you wish he could see you in the same way, he doesn’t—or at least, not in the way you need him to. and even though your boyfriend has been nothing but sweet and patient these past few months, the connection just isn’t there. the attraction feels muted, like a faded echo of what it should be.

it leaves you simmering with a frustration you can’t admit out loud, the kind that gnaws at you from the inside, bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest crack to spill over and consume you. you’ve been holding it together for so long, but every time you’re near baekhyun, every casual brush of his skin against yours, it pushes you closer to the edge. and you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending. how much longer you can keep this act going, knowing that the one person you truly want is right there, just out of reach.

suddenly overwhelmed and no longer in the mood for the night’s festivities, thanks to baekhyun, you decided to slip away quietly. feigning a tired smile, you excused yourself, blaming it on the onset of a cold you claimed was creeping up on you.

as you got up and gathered your things, slipping on your sweater to shield yourself from the chilly october evening, baekhyun let out an exaggerated yawn and announced he was heading out as well, drawing boos and groans from your friends that both of you were leaving. 

feeling the walls close in, you rush to the door, needing to escape and breathe. your hands fumble to slip on your shoes, heart racing, fingers already gripping the cool metal of the doorknob. just as you’re about to turn it, baekhyun’s voice stops you, smooth but firm. "hey, let me take you home." his presence lingers behind you, his words almost a plea, warm and insistent.

without meeting his gaze, you replied coldly, “no, i’m fine. i’d rather walk,” waving him off dismissively. “goodnight, baekhyun.”

“w-wait!” he called out, but you were already closing the door in his face. you pulled your bag over your shoulder and tugged your sweater tighter around your neck, bracing against the crisp fall air.

your apartment was only a few blocks away, an easy ten-minute walk on most nights, but tonight, you lingered. every step was slower, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you wandered the quiet streets. you needed the extra time, the space to think about the growing weight of your situation. 

your thoughts drifted to your boyfriend—should you break up with him? the idea gnawed at you. you even reached for your phone, fingers hovering over his name, but the words refused to come. how could you explain that nothing he did ever truly satisfied you? that every time, you had to guide him, instruct him, tell him how to touch you, how to kiss you. his attempts never stirred anything deep inside, and when he fucked you, it was mechanical—passionless, almost empty.

he wasn’t like baekhyun.

with baekhyun, you never had to say a word. he knew your body instinctively, knew how to make you unravel without asking. he never needed guidance to make you cum; it was as natural as breathing for him.

you approached your apartment complex, the weight of your unresolved dilemma still pressing heavily on your mind—caught between trying to make things work with your boyfriend and the tangled, confusing feelings you had for baekhyun. your shoulders slumped as your head hung low, chin brushing against your chest, your eyes tracing the cracks in the pavement. the world around you felt muted, distant, like you were moving through a fog, everything blurred and out of focus.

with a swift punch of the door code, the lock beeped softly, and the door groaned open. but before you could step inside, your breath caught in your throat. there, by the entrance, sat a pair of men’s shoes—worn but familiar, ones you couldn’t possibly mistake. they rested neatly by the door, as if they had been waiting for you, like he had been waiting for you.

a tired sigh slipped from your lips, recognition sinking into your chest. you didn’t need to look any further to know who was already inside.

you were hoping for a moment of solitude to finish gathering your thoughts, but there he was—baekhyun, rummaging through your pantry, helping himself to your snacks.

“baekhyun, what are you doing here?” you ask, voice laced with surprise and slight irritation. 

it’s not like his presence is unusual—he’s your best friend after all. he used to drop by unannounced all the time, making himself at home as if your space was his own. he’d lounge on your couch, rummage through your fridge, and sometimes, without a word, he'd settle next to you for hours. but since you both called off your little "arrangement," those random visits had stopped completely. maybe it was because there was no longer that unspoken pull drawing him to your bed, or maybe—for once—he was trying to give you some space.

but let’s be real—baekhyun doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, especially when it comes to you. and little did you know, it’s not respect for your privacy that keeps him away. no, it’s because he can’t bear the thought of walking in and potentially finding you with someone else. the idea of seeing you with your new boyfriend—his hands where baekhyun’s used to be—would kill him. he’s already imagined it a hundred times, and each time, the image is enough to make him want to gouge his eyes out.

he peeks out from behind the pantry door, a bag of chips in his grip, he grinned. “oh, hey! you’re finally here.” he stuffed a few chips into his mouth, his voice muffled. “y’seemed a bit out of it, so i wanted to make sure you were okay.” with a playful poke to your cheek, causing you to grimace. “shoulda just let me drive ya home, cupcake. i’ve been here for like ten minutes already.”

"cupcake." the nickname pulls you into a warm memory from childhood. you and baekhyun, determined to bake cupcakes for a school event, laughed as flour flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a playful disaster. your moms watched in horror as you two struggled with the instructions, but when the cupcakes came out, you both beamed with pride—baekhyun mostly for the fun. at the event, you eagerly awaited your friends' reactions to your creations, excitement bubbling inside you. but when they announced their preference for another girl’s cupcakes—sparkling with glittery frosting—your heart sank. yours and baekhyun’s looked so plain in comparison. heartbroken, you ran off, only for him to find you, comforting you with a gentle pat on the head, "you’re my favorite, cupcake." he gently wiped away your tears as you choked out a trembling, "promise?" between your sobs. “mhm! promise,” and in that moment, he wrapped his pinky with yours, and with a playful press of your thumbs, you stamped it with sincerity. fifteen years later, the nickname still clings to you like the sweetest frosting.

"'m fine, really," you lied, your voice barely steady as your eyes darted away from his. you leaned against the kitchen island, elbows digging into the cool surface, pressing your forehead into your palms. no matter how you tried to mask it, the stiffness in your frame exposed the truth, even as you tried to keep your tone light. "’m just... not feeling well, that's all."

you’re stuck in the middle, torn between what feels safe and what feels right. you keep telling yourself that making it work with your boyfriend is the better option—after all, you’re terrified of losing baekhyun as your best friend. but a part of you knows, deep down, that things between you and baekhyun aren’t the same anymore. ever since you became friends with benefits, something shifted, something fragile that you’re afraid to acknowledge. 

you can’t let yourself believe baekhyun could feel something deeper for you. it’s easier to stay in denial than face the possibility that the guy you’ve been so close to, the one who knows you inside out, might actually want more. maybe it’s because you’re scared—scared of ruining the friendship that’s been your constant, the one thing you can always rely on. so, you push down the thoughts, shove aside the feelings, and try to make things work with your boyfriend. but you know you’re unsatisfied. emotionally, physically—it’s not enough. yet, you cling to it, because you think it’s better to have a relationship that’s functional rather than risk something that might fall apart. 

but baekhyun… with him, it’s different. you never have to try. things just fall into place with him, naturally, effortlessly. it feels so right—too right—and maybe that’s what terrifies you. being with him feels easy, like slipping into something that was always meant to be, and that scares you more than anything. what if you let yourself fall for him and everything changes? what if you lose him completely, not just as a lover but as your best friend? 

you don’t know what you want. you can’t figure out if you should stay with your boyfriend just to avoid the risk of losing baekhyun, or if you should give in to the way you feel toward him. deep down, you know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. it’s the fear that stops you—the fear of losing control, of opening up to something real, of being vulnerable with someone who’s already seen all your cracks.

but how long can you pretend? how long can you stay in a relationship that leaves you empty, just because it’s safer than taking a chance? maybe what you’re really scared of isn’t losing baekhyun. maybe it’s the idea that being with him feels too perfect, too right, and that kind of happiness is something you don’t know how to handle. but sooner or later, you’ll have to make a choice—stay in a relationship that drains you, or risk everything for something that makes you feel alive.

but you’d deal with that headache another day.

his fingers curl around your arm, firm but not forceful, spinning you to face him. the movement is swift, catching you off guard, and you stumble slightly before his gaze locks with yours. “is this about my text earlier?” his voice is playful, but there’s an edge beneath the tease. “i’m sooooo sorry for teasing about your loser boyfriend, the one ya clearly don’t have any romantic feelings for,” he says, each word dripping with mockery.

“you’re such an ass, y’know that?” you want to yell at him, to snap back with something cutting, to defend your relationship like it actually means something. you want to push him out the door and slam it behind him, pretend that this tension between you doesn’t exist.

but you can’t. because baekhyun’s right. and even now, with him standing just inches away, you feel more electricity between you than you ever have with your boyfriend. the way he looks at you, the way the air between you thickens—it’s undeniable. infuriatingly so.

the atmosphere shifts, charged with something far more dangerous. his voice softens, but the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “finefinefine. ’m sorry, f’real, cupcake. hate seeing ya upset cus of me. how ‘bout i make it up to you, hmm?” his words are smooth, each one laced with a promise. “i can help ya forget all about your little boyfriend.”

the word lingers between you, thick with implication. you shift on your feet, heart racing. “well…i—i don’t know,” you stammer, your gaze falling to the floor. you can’t look at him. if you do, he’ll see it—the flicker of hope, the unspoken longing. you’ve tried so hard to bury it, to keep it hidden, but in moments like this, it threatens to spill out.

his fingers loosen slightly on your arm, but he doesn’t let go. instead, his thumb is rubbing circles, the gentle caress making it harder for you to keep it together. “i don’t know what i want,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. you’re not even sure if you’re convincing yourself or him. all you know is that if you meet his eyes, he’ll likely see everything you’ve been trying to deny: the truth that maybe you don’t want your boyfriend at all. maybe you’ve wanted baekhyun all along.

your eyes are glued to the floor and your trying your hardest to suppress the rising heat in your chest. his fingers slide from your arm up to your chin, gently tilting your face toward him. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, a gesture that sends a rush of heat through your body, making it impossible to think straight.

“look at me,” he whispers, his voice low and almost dangerous. slowly, your gaze lifts to meet his. “i don’t believe you,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. his eyes drop briefly to your mouth before returning to yours, darker now. “i think you do know what you want.”

suddenly his body is pressing into yours, the warmth radiating from him almost overwhelming. his hand slides up, cradling your neck, fingers gentle yet possessive, his thumb brushing along your jawline. your breath hitches as he leans in, lips hovering so close to yours you can feel his breath.

“baekhyun….w-we really shouldn’t…” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a weak attempt to stop what you know is inevitable. but your body doesn’t qute get the memo with the way you’re leaning into him, craving his touch.

“tell me to stop, then,” he whispers, lips brushing yours, his voice coarse with challenge. his eyes are locked onto yours, daring you to say it. to push him away.

but you can’t. every nerve in your body is screaming for more—for him. all the frustration from your boyfriend, the disappointment in every failed touch, every unsatisfying kiss—it all crashes over you at once. and baekhyun… baekhyun is standing right here, so close, so familiar. you miss him. you miss the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands knew exactly where to touch you, the way he could unravel you in seconds.

you can’t tell him to stop. not when you want him this badly.

your lips part in a breath, and that’s all the invitation he needs. his mouth crashes onto yours, the kiss full of urgency and raw, unrestrained need. his lips move against yours in perfect sync, fierce yet deliberate, like he’s pouring everything into this one moment. his tongue brushes against yours, coaxing a soft whimper from your throat, and his hand tightens slightly around your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like all the pent-up frustration you’ve been harboring melts away in an instant. all you can feel is baekhyun, his lips claiming yours, his body pressing you back against the wall with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve missed this,” he mutters between kisses, his lips barely leaving yours. “missed you.”

your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like never before. it’s not just the kiss—it’s everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve denied yourself. and now, here he is, reminding you of exactly what you’ve been craving.

when he finally pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours, you’re both panting, chests heaving. “see, cupcake?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “you know exactly what you want.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, fiercer this time, as if the mere thought of stopping is unthinkable. the kiss deepens, every inch of him pressing closer, until he’s got you in your room and on your bed, pinned beneath him. his body moves instinctively, shifting behind you, and within seconds, you feel him slide into you from behind, achingly slow at first. but the second he bottoms out, something shifts. a low groan rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin. he doesn’t even wait for you to adjust, he loses all control, thrusting with raw, feral intensity. his chest is flush against your back, the heat of his body overwhelming as your face presses into the pillow, muffling the broken moans spilling from your lips as you bite into the fabric, trying to hold on for dear life.

each relentless thrust from baekhyun feels like it’s stealing the very breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air. his movements are unyielding, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to reclaim every second of the time you’ve spent apart, making up for the last few months he couldn’t have you like this. 

the sheets twist tightly in your fists, but no matter how hard you cling to them, it’s impossible to ground yourself—he’s pulling you deeper into the intoxicating blur of sensation. his pace is feral, his hips slamming into yours with an intensity that borders on overwhelming. 

baekhyun moans, the sound rough and guttural, fueling the fire building inside you. his hands grip your thighs, possessive and firm, as he drives into you with a force that makes your entire body quake. the heady mix of sensation has you floating, completely consumed by him, by the way he moves, as if he’s trying to burn this moment into your skin, into your memory. each thrust pushes you closer to that edge, where all you can feel, all you can think about, is him.

his voice cuts through the haze—deep, raspy. "look at my pretty little angel... i’ve missed watching you fall apart for me." his words, tainted with hunger, ignite something in you. but you can’t find it in you to respond, not with the way he’s driving you to the edge. 

his fingers sink into your hips, firm and punishing, and you know for certain that bruises will manifest if he keeps this up. each grip imprints on your skin, marking you as if he’s claiming you as his own. and you revel in it—every deliciously painful second. there’s something intoxicating about witnessing him completely lost, consumed by his need for you, making you feel more desired than ever before. 

his breath is hot against your ear as he growls, "you're all mine, aren’t ya, cupcake?"

you can barely find your voice, breathless and overwhelmed, but somehow you manage to gasp out, "y-yes... all yours." how could you ever belong to anyone else when he's driving into you with such raw intensity, each thrust relentless, pushing you deeper into the mattress?

"yours," you repeat, the truth sinking in. you always have been. you never stopped. 

baekhyun’s grip tightens at your affirmation, his pace quickening in response—he liked your answer. it’s clear in the way he devours you, body and soul. he’s using you like his personal plaything, his touch both possessive and unrelenting. but it’s the sounds spilling from his lips that keep you tethered to reality—reminding you that it’s still him. baekhyun. your baekhyun.

"baek," you whimper, voice shaky, barely audible over the sounds of your bodies moving in sync. he doesn’t respond right away, too lost in the pleasure rippling through him, but you see it—the way his eyes flicker open, wild and dark, his gaze locking onto yours. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not his usual playful grin. this one is predatory, dangerous.

“what’s wrong, cupcake?” he rasps, his voice dripping with amusement, though there's something almost menacing in the way he says it. "can’t—nnngghhh—handle it?"

your breath hitches, and the words you want to say cling to your tongue, refusing to come free. all you can manage is a faint nod, a fragile acknowledgment of the moment. he leans in closer, his lips grazing the delicate curve of your ear. his voice, a low whisper, dancing across your skin.

"good," he purrs, his voice now a deep, velvety growl. "cus i don’t think i can stop fucking this pretty pussy. fuck—i think she missed me." 

what feels like hours later, after countless orgasms brought forth by his mouth and the myriad of ways he’s taken you, the sight before you is nothing short of devastating. baekhyun has already came inside you twice, and now, poised on the brink of losing himself again in a mean mating press, he looks utterly wrecked. strands of damp hair cling to his forehead, dark and slick with sweat, framing a face flushed with feverish desire. a deep crimson blooms across his cheeks, spilling down the bridge of his nose like a painting. his bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, the skin pale from the pressure, while his gaze—dark, ravenous, and locked on the intimate connection of your bodies.

the way his eyes feast on you sends a shiver racing down your spine, igniting a deep ache that only he can soothe. he trembles with barely contained desire, his body quaking with the need to claim you all over again, while you teeter on the edge, overwhelmed and craving more. before you know it, he’s flipping you back onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to meet his as your face and the upper half of your body sink into the mattress, the sheets slick with your sweat and juices.

his tip glides teasingly over your entrance, and you instinctively flinch away from the sensitivity, heart racing. 

"nonono, cupcake, don’t do that," baekhyun’s voice rumbles, low and commanding, sending another jolt through you. his hands are firm as they guide your hips back against his waist, grip tightening, muscles flexing as he holds you in place. "run away from me again, and i’ll make it so ya can’t walk." 

"p-please, baekhyun," you whine.

a deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, sending a shiver rippling down your spine. goosebumps rise, and baekhyun notices—he always notices—his hands roaming, possessive, over every inch of your trembling body. "uh-uh," his voice rough with lust, "you’re gonna take every last drop.”

his hips surge forward, harder, deeper, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. there's a flicker of something wild in them, raw. 

“fuck, you’re s-so perfect. so perfect for me,” he growls, voice low and ragged, and it shoots straight through you, making your insides coil in response. “y’feel that, cupcake? how close i am?” his tone is a little desperate now, his restraint slipping as he fights to keep control. but you can see it—the need, the hunger that threatens to consume him.

another thrust, brutal, claiming, sends you spiraling, and you feel him everywhere. your breath hitches, and you know he can feel it too, how tightly you’re holding him inside, the way your body swallows him tells him just how much you want him—more than words ever could.

a hiss escapes him, sharp and guttural, his teeth gritting as he barely holds on. “you’re so tight—fuck—i’m gonna–ngh–fill you up again. you’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya? isn’t that right, my girl?” his voice is almost pleading now, the desperation to spill into you driving him mad. and when his thrusts grow erratic, each one landing deeper than the last, you know he’s close to breaking, just as you are. 

it’s intoxicating, watching him unravel before you, the way his chest rises and falls erratically, every ragged breath he takes feeding into your own desire. at the sound of his name slipping from your lips—soft, and pleading—he finally tears his gaze from the mess he's made of you.

his eyes, dark and glazed over, meet yours, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but it’s strained, barely there. he doesn’t slow. if anything, he pushes harder, deeper, the rhythm relentless. sweat drips from his temple, tracing down his cheek, but he doesn’t even notice. his focus is singular, entirely consumed by you—by the way your body trembles, how your fingers grip onto the sheets, like a lifeline.

"say it again," he breathes, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you hear the urgency in it. "say my name."

you bite your lip, trying to hold back, but the intensity of his gaze—it undoes you. your eyes meet his, tear-filled and hazy, and you see the way his own eyes flicker, like he’s losing whatever control he had left.

and it’s the way your soft, pouty lips quiver as they whisper his name that gets him there, how your brows are knit together in an innocent plea while your eyes gaze up at him, brimming with love and vulnerability.

his jaw clenches, and he lets out a deep, guttural sound, so raw it sends shivers through you. he lowers his forehead to your back, his breath hot against your skin.

"holy–fuck—," he hisses through gritted teeth, his hand tightening on your waist, like he’s afraid to let go. his hips stutter before slamming forward, burying himself deep inside you one final time. his orgasm crashes over him like a violent wave, dragging him under. the guttural moan that escapes his lips is raw, primal, and he knows he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but in this moment, it’s beyond his control.

you feel the tremor in his body as he shudders against you, his skin flushed, slick with sweat, while his cock pulses inside you. his balls tighten and twitch, spilling hot and thick, the sensation drawing a gasping whimper from your own throat. his breath is erratic, each inhale a desperate gulp.

baekhyun lowers himself until his chest is pressed against your back, the weight of his body sinking into you, his lips brushing your ear as he pants, "you... you feel too fucking good. how do you... how do ya do this to me?" his voice is shaky, barely a whisper as his hands continue to clutch you, desperate, possessive.

you murmur something incoherent in response, your own mind foggy with aftershocks, but all you can focus on is the way he trembles against you. his forehead presses against back, and you feel him trying to steady his breath, his heart racing like he’s just run a marathon.

“goddamn,” he breathes, the words more for himself than for you, voice thick with awe. "i’m never… getting enough of this. never gonna get enough of you."

his body lingers against yours, the air still heavy with the remnants of pleasure. even as the sharp edge of your climax begins to dull, you can feel the way his hands stay locked on your skin, like he’s afraid to let go, fingers tracing invisible patterns over your waist as if committing every inch of you to memory. there's a yearning in his touch, a silent desperation that clings to the moment, stretching it out.

you pretend not to notice. you can’t let yourself notice. feeding into that fantasy, that he could want more than this—more than just the heat between your bodies—would be a mistake. he’s your best friend, and that’s all this is. two best friends tangled in each other, using one another to satisfy a need. nothing more, nothing deeper.

it couldn’t be.

the air in the room feels heavy, thick with something unspoken. at least that’s what it feels like to baekhyun, like a weight pressing down on his chest. as he’s silently pulling his clothes back on, he’s stuck in his head, running over the same thought again and again: how badly he wants to ask you to leave your boyfriend. he wants to beg you to give him a real chance. because you and him? you just fit. 

it makes so much sense in his mind—you should know it too, right? i mean, the synergy between you two is undeniable—the way you connect, how effortlessly you bounce off each other, both physically and emotionally. no one gets his humor the way you do, no one reads him so instinctively, and no one fits him quite like you. you’re each other’s perfect match, and he feels it in every fiber of his being. what could be better than being in a committed relationship with your best friend, someone who already knows you inside and out?

he hesitates, throwing his shirt on as you rummage through your closet, probably looking for something more comfortable now that you’re home. his voice breaks the silence, casual but laced with a tinge of hope. “soooo... are you gonna break up with, uh, what’s-his-name?”

you pause, turning around with a look of genuine confusion on your face. “huh? oh—hmm, no. at least, not just yet... maybe i should give it another shot? he actually texted me not too long ago if i could meet him for drinks in a bit.”

the way his expression drops is almost comical, if it weren’t for the fact that you see it—the disbelief, the frustration flickering across his face before he can mask it. baekhyun has never been skilled at concealing his emotions, despite his insistence that he can. right now, it feels like he isn’t even attempting to hide the disappointment that hangs between you like a heavy fog.

if you could hear his thoughts, it’d be something like, ‘you’re going out with him? i literally just emptied my entire fucking ballsack into you, and you’re going out with him?’

his frown deepens, brows knitting together as if he’s trying to hold back a storm. before you can fully process what’s happening, he scoffs, shaking his head as if he could simply dismiss it all. “hah. right. okay, well, thanks for the nut, i guess. i’ll be seeing you around.”

each word drips with sarcasm, but beneath it, you can sense the hurt—an ache that tugs at the edges of your heart.

and with that, he turns on his heel and storms out of your bedroom, heading straight for your front door.

“baekhyun, wait!” you call after him, scrambling to catch up, grabbing his arm just before he can leave. he stops, but he doesn’t turn around, his body rigid with frustration. “what’s going on?”

he finally looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes catches you off guard. “what’s going on?” he repeats, voice low, almost a growl. “i’m sitting here, watching you play house with some guy who doesn’t get you—not like i do—and i’m supposed to just... what? be okay with it?”

you’re taken aback by the intensity in his tone, the way his words come out in a rush, like he’s been holding them in for way too long. “baekhyun, what the hell are you talking about?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “you really don’t get it, do you? we,” his hand gesturing between the two of you, “make sense, you and me. we’ve always made sense. and yet, here you are, wasting your time with someone who doesn’t even appreciate you like i do—who you don’t even like!”

you blink, a wave of dizziness washing over you as a flood of questions races through your mind, each one slipping away before you can grasp it. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick and suffocating.

“s-since when?” you stammer, doubt trembling in your voice. the ground beneath you feels unsteady, as if it might shift and swallow you whole. 

“are you kidding me?” he scoffs, disbelief etching deeper lines into his face. “i was a fucking wreck when you called it off.” the intensity of his emotions surges, filling the quiet of your apartment with an echo that seems to reverberate off the walls. “when you told me you wanted to ‘try dating some other guy’—do you even realize how that felt? why do you think i haven’t been around much since then??? it’s because i literally cannot stand the thought of you with someone else. just the idea makes me sick to my fucking stomach. i can’t breathe knowing he’s with you when it should be me.”

oh.

ohhhh.

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, the unbearable guilt gnawing at your insides. but it’s the way his voice trembles, softening as it cracks beneath the weight of vulnerability, that makes your eyes sting with unshed tears. “but i wanted you to be happy,” he admits, each word wrapped in a bittersweet sincerity that tugs at your heart. “even if it meant not being with me… i knew what this was. i understood our arrangement. and i tried so hard, so fucking hard, to push these feelings down. deep down, i always felt it was something more. call it delusion, but it just felt so good pretending you were mine... even if you didn’t feel the same.”

every word is laced with desperation, like a raw, exposed nerve. the truth hangs heavy in the air, and you can see the storm brewing in his eyes—agitation just beneath the surface, threatening to overflow. 

you can barely meet his gaze, heart racing as the reality of his feelings sinks in, pulling you under. “how come you’ve never said anything before?”

he takes a moment to steady himself, visibly wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. his gaze drops to the floor, fingers still tangled in his hair as he collects his thoughts. when he finally looks back up, his expression is a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“because i thought you’d be happier without me,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want to be the reason you felt trapped or guilty. i thought if you wanted to explore something new, then i should just... step back. but every day these last few months have felt fucking suffocating. i can’t shake the feeling that we belong together, even if it’s terrifying to say out loud.”

he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, eyes searching yours for understanding. “i’ve been a coward, honestly. i know that. i kept telling myself i should let you go, but every time i see you smile or hear your laugh, it just reminds me of what i’m missing. i wanted to tell you so many times, but i was afraid of ruining whatever friendship we had left.” 

his voice thickens, eyes glistening with unshed emotion. “but i can’t keep pretending anymore. i want to be the one who makes you happy. i need to be that person, even if it means risking everything. even if it means putting everything on the line.” 

he stands there, eyes searching yours, you can see the desperation in his gaze, but the weight of his words feels too heavy to bear, and you take a step back, creating space between you.

“baekhyun, i just—i don’t know if i can—” you start, but he interrupts, the hurt flashing across his face.

“don’t know if you can what? feel the same way? i’m here, laying it all out for you!” his voice rises again, tinged with anguish. “you’re with someone else, and i get that! but you’re standing here like it doesn’t even matter, like you’re just going to pretend whatever we have between us doesn’t exist!”

the sharpness in his words cuts deep, and your heart aches. “it’s not that simple. you know it’s not,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions. “you think i haven’t thought about what this means? about how complicated it is? i can’t just flip a switch and make everything okay!”

he runs a hand over his face, frustration boiling just below the surface. “you don’t have to make it okay! just... just acknowledge it! acknowledge us. you can’t deny that there’s something more here.” 

the heat of the moment grows unbearable, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. “i-i can’t! i can’t do this right now! i don’t even know what i want!” 

“then maybe it’s better if you stay with him,” he snaps, hurt flooding his voice. “at least then you can pretend you’re happy. you won’t have to deal with the mess we’ve created. you can have your perfect little life, while i’m over here trying to pick up the fucking pieces.” 

his words cut deep, each syllable laced with disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. “baek… c’mon, that’s not fair—” you reach out to him, but this time, for the first time ever, he pushes you away, the sudden force of it leaving you reeling.

“just please…let me go, okay?” his voice is low, but it trembles with emotion. “there’s nothing here for me anymore. you’ve made it clear that there never was.” 

you swallow hard, the weight of unshed tears threatening to spill over as you gaze into his eyes for what feels like the last time. the raw pain reflected back at you cuts deep, shattering something fragile inside you. he turns on his heel, his silhouette fading into the distance, the door clicking shut behind him like a final punctuation mark.

now, in the suffocating stillness, the tears flow freely, your chest tightening under the weight of your own heartbreak. each beat of your heart an ugly reminder of how deeply fucked this entire situation is.

this is it. 

you’ve hit rock bottom.

the days that follow blur into a haze of heartache and regret. each moment apart stretches into an eternity, every thought of baekhyun sending sharp pangs of longing twisting painfully through your chest. you try to distract yourself, immersing yourself in the whirlwind of work while surrounding yourself with friends—friends who have always sensed the unspoken tension between you and baekhyun. apparently, you two were never as subtle as you thought you were. the longing glances, the lingering touches, constantly matching each other’s energy, him effortlessly meeting you on every wavelength—everybody saw it, each tiny detail. 

‘you’d have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on the chemistry,’ one of them commented. ‘yeah, we were all calling you and baekhyun the next hellen kellers,’ another added.  ‘more like tweedle dee and tweedle dum,’ someone else chuckled. you couldn’t help but wince at the truth of it all.

you come to find out that they all secretly rooted for your “not-so-secret” connection to flourish, yet holding back from intervening, respecting the boundaries of your privacy. you feel nothing but gratitude for that unspoken understanding; after all, the very reason you both kept your fwb arrangement hidden was because of the fear of anyone else complicating the already complicated.

oh, and your boyfriend—the poor guy. he really didn’t deserve the turmoil you put him through. the conversation with him still echoes in your mind, haunting you like a ghost. you told him the truth, your voice trembling as you confessed to your betrayal. “i cheated,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “i’m so sorry. it was wrong, and i take full responsibility for everything.” you could see the disappointment wash over his face, the trust he had for you shattering before your eyes. he deserved more than what you gave him, yet you’d been stringing him along, all because you felt like you didn’t have a chance with baekhyun—the one who made your heart race in a way your boyfriend never could.

now, you’re left with nothing but the empty echoes of those moments, each heartbeat a reminder of the love you lost and the love you crave. baekhyun's laughter still dances in your memory, his touch lingers on your skin, and the connection you shared feels like an ache that refuses to fade. despite the distractions, you can’t escape the truth that looms over you: he’s the one you truly want. it was always baekhyun who held your heart, and the thought of losing him makes your heart ache all over again.

then, one evening, after an especially difficult day, you find yourself in a familiar spot—a coffee shop you and baekhyun used to frequent together. you sit there, cradling your drink, as a wave of sweet memories washes over you, each one tied to your past visits here with him.

just as you’re gathering your things to leave, the bell above the door jingles, and your heart races when you see who's walking in, a hesitant expression etched across his face.

“hey,” he says softly, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“baekhyun…” his name falls from your lips in a quiet whisper, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy between you as you step closer. “can we talk?”

he nods, motioning toward a nearby table. your legs feel leaden as you walk over, your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. each beat is a reminder of how much this moment means, of how much you stand to lose. you can’t mess this up. not again. you have to make this work—you can’t lose him.

“i know things have been… difficult since everything happened,” you begin, your voice trembling as you lower yourself into the chair. his eyes are on you, but they seem distant, almost guarded. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t care. i can’t just walk away from us.”

baekhyun looks down, his fingers brushing the edge of the table, searching for the right words. his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “i didn’t think you felt the same,” he murmurs, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“i was scared,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “scared of losing you for good. but i realized that it’s worse to lose you without even trying to fight for what we had.” 

you feel the tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they’re not from sadness; they’re from the overwhelming relief of seeing him here, in front of you. 

“i don’t want to lose you either,” he confesses, his voice laced with quiet desperation. his hand reaches across the table, the warmth of his touch wrapping around yours as he gently grasps it. “i can’t stand the thought of seeing you with someone else. i never did. i want to be with you, and i’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

your chest tightens as you take a deep breath, nodding slowly while a shaky exhale slips from your lips. “i want to be with you, too. for real this time.”

his eyes widen, hope flickering like sparks catching flame. “do you mean it?” he asks, his voice filled with cautious anticipation.

you nod again, a soft hum of agreement escaping you, and in that moment, his smile breaks free, one of pure, unguarded relief. without a word, his hand reaches out, and your pinkies intertwine, just as they did all those years ago. a silent promise passes between you, and with a soft press of your thumbs, the vow is sealed—an echo of the past and a delicate mark of something entirely new.

“so… can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, his nervous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice dipping into a shy but hopeful tone.

“yes,” you reply, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles up, “i would love it if you were.”

his grin widens, turning his brown eyes into soft crescent moons, as if the tension in the room has melted away. you hadn’t realized how tense he was until you see him relax into his chair. “ugh, thank goddddd. i’m so glad we agreed not to be stupid anymore,” he jokes with a smile, and your heart swells at the familiar spark in his voice. and it hits you again—just how much you’ve missed him. that toothy smile, his voice, his laugh and the way he can always bring light into even the darkest moments. just him.

your best friend.

your boyfriend.

“i missed you, y’know?” you confess, the words tumbling out with sincerity.

“i missed you, too, cupcake.” he replies, his expression softening, thumb tracing little planets on the back of your hand.

he lets out a relieved sigh before continuing, “so what does my GIRLFRIEND want to do now?” excitement bubbles in his tone. “should we take a walk on the beach? the sun is about to set, and it would be nice. or does my GIRLFRIEND want to watch a movie? maybe my GIRLFRIEND wants to grab some dessert?”

you can’t help but blush, a giggle escaping your lips at the way he emphasizes your new title, drawing curious glances from the cafe patrons. embarrassment flares in your cheeks as you swiftly rise, tugging him by the arm to guide him out of the bustling cafe.

as soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he whirls you around, his hands tenderly cradling your face. twarmth of his palms feels like home as he leans in, kissing you with such devotion and tenderness that sends you soaring straight to cloud nine. everything outside melts away, and in that electric moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped snug in each other’s arms.

he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and you catch a glimpse of that playful spark in his eyes. he sends a thrill racing through you as he ghosts his lips over yours, the soft brush igniting a flutter deep in your stomach. “or how about i take my girlfriend back to my place,” his voice low and sultry, “and we consummate our new relationship?” 

you laugh, your heart racing at the implication. “i think my boyfriend read my mind,” you tease, interlocking your fingers with his as you both giggle, making your way to his car. ‘finally,’ baekhyun thinks to himself as he swings open the passenger door, a grin spreading across his face. before you hop in, he leans in for one last kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. and as he shuts the door, a wave of relief washes over him. ‘finally, you’re all mine.’

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 a/n: the song linked in the title (and a text post on here that i cannot find for the life of me) inspired me to write a fwb!baekhyun fic 🙂‍↕️ i was going to end it with angst but then i realized......i literally can't do that!!!! lmfao i need my disney ending or else i'm gonna combust!!!!!!! sigh but anyways, i hope u enjoyed it!!!! as always, lmk your thots unless you hate it then pls keep it to yourself omg cus i am sensitive and will cry <3 (not joking)

⤷ prequel <3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[killerlookz]

No Going Back | Joost Klein

this is *technically* a prequel to this fic (heartbeat) but should be read after!!!!! as the "lore" is explained in that fic.

description: joost klein x f! reader- after getting into a new relationship, you had decided it was high time to cut off your ex-with-benefits, joost, but an encounter at a mutual friend's birthday party leaves you wondering if it's going to be easier said than done.

content: 18+ explicit smut, MDNI, RPF dry humping, unprotected PiV/creampie, slight overstim(?), cheating, toxic relationships, angst, some fluff, hurt/comfort... probably like way too much comfort, smoking/alcohol, drug ment. but as a metaphor.

THIS WORK CONTAINS RPF, AND HAS BEEN TAGGED APPROPRIATELY. PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, BLOCK ME, AND BLOCK THE RPF TAG-

DO NOT SHARE MY WORK EITHER IN ITS ENTIRETY OR AS SCREENSHOTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS,AGAIN I URGE YOU TO BLOCK ME AND THE RPF TAG INSTEAD OF EXPOSING THIS WORK TO A LARGER AUDIENCE THAT DID NOT ASK TO SEE IT.

THIS FIC IS ALSO SOLELY TAGGED IN THE X READER TAG, MEANING IF YOU'RE HERE YOU SEARCHED FOR IT... PLEASE CONSUME MEDIA RESPONSIBLY. (keep this in mind if you decide not to heed my warnings and continue reading or complain about it elsewhere)

word count: 10,728

fic soundtrack: Watercolor Eyes- Lana Del Rey, Blood on My Hands- The Sundays, Show Me the Real You- Moodring

"Now I find that I'm thigh deep, too young for the worst of my mind. You whisper behind me, "If I may make so bold". Call it young and wild, but I ran a mile in a minute... and there's no going back"

You should stop staring.

You're sure by now it's obvious, you're sure by now Joost can feel your eyes burning to him from where you sit directly across from him. The conversations around you are little distraction from your watchful gaze. Not even the feeling of your boyfriend, Michael's hand moving to rest on your thigh can pull you out of your trance.

Joost laughs at a joke Apson tells, one that you hadn't bothered to pay attention too. Instead your focus is fixated on the way Joost's face lights up at as his head tilts back slightly, amused by his friend's sense of humor. The dimples in his cheeks now prominent as his mouth opens, lips curling up into a wide grin. All the noise that surrounds you in the crowded restaurant is dampened by the sound of his laughter, a sweet music to your ears.

Joost's eyes meeting yours as his laughter subsides is finally enough to rip you from your stares. With a few quick blinks you're somewhat back to reality, tunnel vision disappearing. You pull your lips into a tight smile, unsure of if you should be embarrassed by your actions. Though embarrassment is hardly on your mind as Joost smiles back at you, which was more than you could hope for given the situation at hand.

It was probably naive of you to assume that getting into a new relationship would make things less complicated between you and Joost. But in your head, initially, it made perfect sense, a new relationship meant you could push your feelings into something different, perhaps finally get over what was supposed to be your ex-boyfriend.

But seeing Joost now, for the first time since you and Michael had started going out, you realize things aren't going to be so easy, that Joost, and the relationship that the two of you had wasn't something that you could just "get over". Especially not when instead of trying to move on after the breakup, the two of you would remain intimate. While intimacy now lacked the romance of your past relationship, your feelings lingered, unable to separate the Joost in front of you now from the Joost who was once your boyfriend.

A quick glance down at your lap leads you to finally notice Michael's hand on your thigh, the reminder that he in fact was the one here who was your boyfriend making your stomach sink. The uncomfortableness of the night was becoming too much to bare. Damn Julie for wanting to meet your new boyfriend on today of all days, and damn yourself for not being able to say no to your best friend on her birthday.

"So," You hear Julie start, looking toward you and Michael, "Michael, y/n tells me you're not from here, have you been in there Netherlands long?"

Michael furrows his eyebrows, you guess he's attempting to count the months since he left the states,

"Almost 8 months." He replies, his voice is flat, uninterested.

"That's nice," Julie smiles, "Do you plan on staying here for awhile?"

"Depends," He shrugs, his hand falling from your lap, a small wave of relief rushing over you. "I go wherever the money takes me. And right not the money is here."

"Well I guess that's not bad advice to live your life by," Julie nods, but she seems unsure of herself, Michael had that affect on people, making people question whether or not you were saying the right thing. You knew that well.

"It's the only advice to live your life by."

"Nah, nah, man," Joost shakes his head, "There's more to life than money. Where's the passion?"

You bite the inside of your cheeks, eyes flicking toward Michael. Michael chuckles, though, just like in everything else, there's a clear condescension in the way he laughs, making it more-so of a scoff.

"Don't be ridiculous," His dry, faux laughter continues, perhaps a little too long, "You're young, you'll find out soon enough. You don't really think you're going to be doing the music thing forever, do you? "

"Michael!" You place a firm hand down on the table, the silverware clattering slightly from the vibration of your hand.

"No, it's okay," Joost laughs uncomfortably. "Appreciate the honesty, Michael." An apparent bitterness in his voice, "But can't say I'll take your advice."

"Eh," Michael shrugs, "You say that now-"

"Alright!" Apson exclaims from beside Joost, clapping his hands together once, commanding the table's attention, "How about dessert?"

The tension is briefly lifted from the table as everyone looks at each other, nodding contently in agreement that it was, indeed, time for dessert.

You're nursing your second espresso martini while the table finishes up their dessert, combined with the glass-and-a-half of wine you had with dinner, you're certainly feeling, less tense.

You listen less than intently as Julie talks about a recent promotion that she got at work. Not that you're not proud enough of your friend to care, but you're not fully there. You inch your leg forward slightly, nudging your ankle against Joost's leg. You pretend not to notice as his gaze flicks towards you, instead you train your eyes on the plate on the table in front of you, moving around what remains of the food with your fork.

Julie is still explaining her new position as you bring your leg up higher, the top of your foot sliding up the fabric of Joost's pants until you reach his knee.

He's staring at you now, just as you had been staring at him before, you can feel it. Still attempting to keep an air of nonchalant you turn to try to focus on Julie's speech. At the same time you move forward slightly in your seat, extending your leg fully under the table, you press the ball of your foot to the inside of Joost's thigh.

You notice in your peripheral how his posture straightens as he sucks in a breath. You smile slightly, a light puff of air leaving your nostrils at his stifled reaction to your teasing.

Truthfully you weren't quite sure what you were doing, you full well had made plans to stay the night with Michael tonight. After all, your apartment was much farther away than his from the restaurant Julie had chosen for her birthday dinner, it was just much easier to stay with Michael and catch a train back home tomorrow during the daytime rather than traveling by yourself at night.

Despite your other plans, you press the point of your shoe a little higher up on Joost's thigh now, continuing to tease him. You have no real end goal in mind, and you really should be consumed with guilt at even thinking of touching a man other than Michael like this, but the alcohol has mellowed your inhibitions, and there's a certain thrill in doing something that you know you shouldn't be.

You feel Joost's hand against your leg, his fingers wrapping around your ankle, thumb gently caressing your skin. You fight back a smirk, after over a month of not seeing Joost you were ready to melt under his simple touch. His fingers tighten, then loosen around you again, and he continuously repeats the pattern, gently massaging you.

You're dangerously close to poking Joost's crotch with the tip of your shoe when Michael throws an arm around you, unexpectedly. You're startled, kicking forward slightly, forcing Joost's hand from your ankle. Joost presses a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat before pushing his seat back, causing your heel to fall to the ground.

"I need a cigarette," He mumbles as he stands up from the table, quickly hurrying away.

His abrupt exit halts the conversation, the table going silent with confusion.

"Um," You start, "I-uh- think I'm gonna have a smoke too." You nod quickly, untangling yourself from Michael's grasp, standing up, shuffling awkwardly from the table.

You quickly find your way outside, the air is brisk, a chill breeze blowing past you immediately making you realize you should have brought a jacket. Joost isn't too far out the door, an unlit cigarette pressed to his lips

"Can I get a cigarette?" Your heels clack loudly against the concrete as you step out onto the sidewalk.

Joost quickly whips his head toward you, ripping the cigarette from his mouth. Joost shakes his head, almost like he's in disbelief,

"What are you doing?" He's genuinely confused, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

You're taken aback by the force at which he asks, a tone he hadn't taken with you in awhile.

"Asking... for a cigarette?" It comes out more like a question, your eyebrows furrowed, words slow in equal confusion.

"No," He shakes his head again, "I mean in there- what was that about?" He raises a hand, vaguely gesturing towards the restaurant, "You have a boyfriend, remember?"

You do remember, unfortunately.

"So, I can't have a cigarette?" You ask slowly, your acute intoxication slipping its way into your words.

"Whatever," He scoffs, holding out his hand to give you the cigarette he was just about to smoke.

"Why are you being so weird?" You giggle, taking the cigarette from him, "Oh," You smile, "Can I get a light?"

"Jesus christ," His annoyance with the way you're playing dumb is apparent, and you know you won't be able to keep up the act forever. You bite the inside of your cheeks as he reaches his hands into his pockets, fumbling around for a lighter. It was naive of you to pretend like Joost wouldn't want to address the obvious elephant in the room.

You place the cigarette between your lips as Joost pulls out the lighter, his hand stretched out to pass it to you. You say nothing, only stick out your jaw slightly, the cigarette flicking upward. You want him to light it for you.

"You're evil," He clenches his jaw, his jaw line sharpening, cheeks hollowing, making the angular bones in his face more apparent. Still, Joost steps forward sightly, flicking the lighter against his thumb. A small orange flame erupts, and Joost lightly passes it to the end of your cigarette, holding the lighter there just long enough for it to light.

You inhale as Joost pulls the lighter back, you bring your hand to your lips, barely holding the cigarette between two fingers. The smoke fills your lungs, invading your senses as the warmth pricks at your throat.

You exhale, "That's not very nice." You frown.

"C'mon," Joost's expression suddenly changes, tilting his head to the side, he seems defeated, "Seriously, what are you doing?"

"I-" You think for a moment, "I don't know." You're equally as defeated now, the threat of having to cut things off with Joost is imminent. And it's what you should be doing, you should be giving Michael your undivided attention, its high time you should be leaving Joost in your past, where you know he belongs.

Your lips tremble as you push the cigarette back to them, the alcohol that once stripped you of your inhibitions suddenly making them so much worse.

"I don't understand you," Joost mutters, "You break up with me, you break my heart, decide you still want to fuck me for a year, then you run off, get a boyfriend, don't talk to me for over a month, and now all a sudden you're touching all over me under the dinner table like I'm the one you're going home with tonight, like you didn't break up with me a year ago."

It does sound bad when he puts it that way, your heart plummeting to your stomach under the heavy weight of guilt. You really fucked up this time.

"Joost-" You're cut off as the cigarette accidentally falls from your shaking hands. Shit. You force your gaze down to the pavement, unable to look at Joost as you crush the barely smoked cigarette under your shoe. "It's not that simple," Your voice is soft, barely returning the same confrontational tone he had given you.

Of course it isn't that simple. Why had he been acting like it was? As if you had broken up with him as a result of love lost between the two of you? As if you had just broken his heart for the fun of it? He of all people should know how hard it was for you to break up with him, what should have been a simple process turning into an hours long affair of you crying in each others arms, lamenting in how much you still loved him, and him desperately apologizing for not having given you everything you deserved.

"And you should know damn well how hard I tried to save our relationship, why else do you think I keep coming back?"

"Obviously you didn't try hard enough, or you wouldn't be here with another guy."

A strained laugh escapes your throat, amused by how absurd Joost is being now,

"No, Joost, you're the one who didn't try." You cross your arms across your chest, realizing just how cold the night air was, goosebumps littering your arms, "That's why we broke up in the first place, remember?" A year later and you still cannot escape the emotions of that night. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever be free from this feeling, or if you even want to be.

Emotions run high, and you can feel the tears brewing behind your eyes, threatening to spill with any sudden movement you make.

You blink once and a singular tear slips from your lash line, slowly caressing the curve of your cheek. Joost's expression suddenly changes, eyes widening, lips parting like he's about to speak.

"Hey, pumpkin," You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the pet name makes your stomach churn, overwhelming you with such disgust you temporarily forget Joost in front of you. A hand against your back accompanies the voice, finally making you turn to face it.

With a sniffle and a few blinks you push back the emotions, a smile pulling at your lips with a chipper voice to match,

"Michael," You beam, "What's up?"

"I am so sorry honey, but I just remembered I have an early meeting tomorrow," His voice is barely apologetic, and you don't quite understand what he's getting at.

"Oh-uh-okay?" You furrow your eyebrows, unsure of why he's apologizing for having a meeting.

"So I'm going to head out now, I already left some money for the bill, I'll talk to you in the morning, okay?"

"But I thought I was going to come to your-" Michael doesn't let you finish your sentence,

"I know, pumpkin, I'm sorry, I just think it's best you don't stay over tonight." He nods.

"Oh, but it's dark I don't want to-" You're cut off again,

"Don't be ridiculous sweetheart, you'll be okay, see you soon, mkay?" He smiles.

You're hesitant to even speak again, knowing if you say too much he'll probably cut you off again. "Sure," You pull your lips into a tight smile, nodding in an attempt to hide your disappointment. There go your plans for the night. "Right, see you later." You try your best to bare a grin.

"Okay, bye pumpkin," He leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying off, on his walk away he throws up a hand towards Joost, "Nice to meet you, buddy."

"Yeah, you too." Joost speaks slowly, though you're sure Michael doesn't even hear with the speed at which he walks away. You flick your eyes to Joost for a brief moment before immediately looking away, opting to no longer brave the cold and head straight for the restaurant bathroom.

You rush past the table your friends still sit at in the dimly lit restaurant, making your way to the back of the building. You fling over the bathroom door, a small relief washing over you when you realize it's only a singular stall before you lock the door behind you.

You place your hand above your eyes, pressing tightly as the tears begin to flow, all of your stupid decisions slapping you in the face at once. Unfortunately, your actions have consequences; and here you were, in a restaurant bathroom forced to bear the brunt of all of them now.

You had broken up with Joost to begin with, in part, to stop the arguing between you two. But it seemed like you could never help yourself, desperate to get Joost to see your side of things, a subconscious urge to finally get him to change, to get him to be the perfect boyfriend you had always dreamed him to be. You can only push so much, tonight being a sign that you were reaching the point where you can't push much more without things breaking.

You lift your hands from your eyes, and lean forward against the bathroom counter. Your hands press into the edge of the marble that surrounds the sink as you stretch your body towards the mirror, inspecting your face.

You're stained with the distinct mark of sadness, eyes now red, your face slightly puffy. You huff, allowing yourself, for just a moment to be grateful you had put on waterproof eyeliner tonight, saving yourself from a potentially greater mess on your face.

You watch yourself in the mirror intently, the glass reflecting back to you how truly pathetic you feel now. But you'll have enough time to feel pathetic once you get home, now, tonight, was about Julie, and it would be selfish of you to spend the rest of the night hiding out, smothering yourself in your own despair instead of celebrating your best friend.

You blink away the remaining tears in your eyes and gently press your fingers to your cheeks to rid the droplets from your skin. The fact you had been crying was apparent, but the restaurant was dark, and you hoped that the low mood lighting would be enough to hide that fact.

With a few deep breaths you're ready to unlock the bathroom door. The metal handle is cool under your shaky touch, you turn it, pulling back the door.

You jump back slightly when you realize there's someone standing behind it, the figure startling you, making your whole body jolt.

"Oh," You inhale sharply, recognizing the person behind the door as Joost, "Sorry, were you waiting for the bathroom? I'm gonna head back-" You speak quickly, head down anxious to get out of his way.

"Nee, I-" He grabs your arm lightly, not allowing you to leave the small corridor the bathroom was located in. He's about to say something else- but you look up at him, and his tone changes, "Oh," He sighs, not releasing his grip on your arm, in fact, only using it to bring you closer to him, "Tell me you weren't crying in there."

You assume he finally got to have that cigarette he wanted after he had given the first one to you, the familiar lingering scent of smoke and his cologne overwhelming your senses as he pulls you closer. The smell, a reminder of his proximity, should upset you, knowing you probably won't be able to enjoy it much longer, but your instincts kick in, and it's nothing but comfort.

"Joost," You start, placing your hand over where his grips your arm, ready to peel it off of you, "I'm okay, I really should be getting back to Julie."

"No, really," He tilts his head, "Tell me." You loosen your hand from where it rests on his, suddenly no longer so willing to part with his touch.

"I'm okay." Your voice a whisper now.

Joost stares down at you, and even now, you can't help but stare back at him. His pretty blue eyes are deep with emotion.

"I'm always doing that, hm?" There's a certain disappointment in his voice, as he moves closer to you, pressing his free hand to your cheek, "Making you cry?"

He's not entirely wrong, but you'd hate to admit it, much less admitting it to his face.

"I know you don't mean to," Your voice is soft, apologetic, like you're sorry for even crying in the first place, "Don't worry about it."

"I worry about everything," He chuckles, a poor attempt at lightening the mood, but it earns a small smile from you, and that's really all he can hope for. "But I was um- thinking I'll take you home? Just, you know, take the train with you, and shit."

"Oh-uh-"

"You can say no." He's quick to speak, "But I heard what Michael said, and I don't really like thinking of you going home by yourself so late."

It's thoughtful, even if he did just almost tear your heart out. You think for a moment, though it's not really necessary to, you already have an answer.

"That would be nice," You nod, "I'd like that."

Joost swipes his thumb against your cheek while he nods back to you, his opposite hand moving from its spot on your arm to snake around your back. His touch only solidifies the cycle you had found yourself tangled in for far too long, you upsetting one another to a point you shouldn't be able to return from, only to fall back in each others arms.

You know you should ask Joost to let go, to just accept his offer to take you home and leave it at that, and not let things go any further. But you'd be a liar to say you didn't love the way it felt when he touched you, the way even after all this time the feeling of his skin against yours still gives you butterflies in your stomach.

The two of you stare at each other silently until you let out a small giggle, realizing how weird it was for you to be sharing such a moment right outside the bathroom.

"I think we should probably head back to the table."

By the time you leave dinner you had regained that slight alcoholic buzz that the emotions of before had taken from you, a smile pressed on your lips as you waved your final goodbyes to your friends.

You turn towards the direction you should be heading, "ugh" You groan, realizing the journey ahead of you, it'll be at least another 45 minutes until you get home.

Another brisk wind blows past you, the prospective 45 minutes ahead of you suddenly feeling so much longer once you realize you'll be shivering for most of it.

"Cold?" Joost chuckles, watching you fold your arms across your torso, attempting to provide yourself with some heat.

"A little," You mumble.

"Mmm, I'm sorry," Joost hums, "Here," He begins sliding the black Ed Hardy zip-up he had been wearing off of his shoulders, revealing he had been wearing nothing but a T-shirt under the hoodie.

You hadn't asked for the sweatshirt, though you still feel a little bad taking it from him when he stretches an arm toward you, handing off the bunched up fabric.

"Are you sure?" You ask, glancing between the hoodie in his hands, and him.

"Yeah, you need it more, at least I'm wearing pants." He smiles, seeming happy enough to let you wear his sweatshirt. He had a fair point anyway, with you having chosen to forego any tights under your skirt tonight.

You slip your arms through the thick fabric, its soft inside immediately enveloping you in at least a little warmth. Joost's own body heat still lingers slightly in the material, a feeling you attempt to savor even as it quickly dissipates.

You're grateful for the slight warmth Joost's sweatshirt provides you, but it's still not enough, still shivering by the time you're on the train back home.

"Still cold?" Joost asks, though it's apparent the way you're folded in on yourself, trying to provide yourself with some heat.

You just hum in response, jaw too tight to talk.

"Oh," Joost coos, "Poor baby," He laughs, "Come here." He throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. Him calling you "baby" catches you off guard, though you're sure it's more mocking than it is meant to be romantic. Still, you don't dare to say anything about it.

"You're warm," You sigh as you rest your head on Joost's shoulder, face buried in his neck. His body gives off a good amount of heat, feeling more comfortable as his arms wrap around you.

You shouldn't enjoy this as much as you do, and no matter how cold you are you really shouldn't be doing this at all, not as long as Michael was in the picture. But the gentle smell of Joost's cologne is intoxicating, its familiar comfort enough to enjoy the moment without a care in the world.

You close your eyes and snuggle closer into Joost, wrapping your arms around his torso, allowing yourself to relax entirely in his embrace. You can feel his pulse gently thumping from your position against his neck, and truthfully you'd love nothing more than to press soft kisses to the pumping vein and stain his skin with your lipstick. You hate the way your mind betrays your morality, allowing yourself to get lost in these fantasies that you know are no good for you.

"Don't fall asleep on me here," Joost chuckles, lightly caressing your back.

"No promises," You mumble, feeling the vibrations of your speech against his neck.

Luckily for Joost, you hadn't fallen asleep, not leaving him with the burden of waking you up once you had arrived at your stop and dragging you home half asleep.

Instead, by the time you're unlocking your apartment door, you're wide awake, too overwhelmed with emotions to be anywhere near tired. As you turn the doorknob to enter your apartment you look back toward Joost who's standing behind you, looking a little unsure of himself.

"Do you want to come in?" You smile, "You can stay the night, it's kind of late." As soon as the offer leaves your tongue you know there's no going back now.

"You don't mind?" He asks.

"Of course not." The entrance to your apartment now stands as a door to probable bad decisions, ready to be opened. You push open the door, revealing your darkened living room.

Your hit with a wave of nerves as you step over the threshold and into the apartment, anxious for what the night has in store for you. The door lingers open for a few moments longer as Joost enters behind you.

You flick on some lights, illuminating the space around you in a pale yellow glow.

"I think I'm going to get ready for bed," You say lowly, still not tired, but you're unsure of what else to do, "Um," You start to speak again, "I won't make you sleep on the couch, I don't mind sharing the bed." You turn to Joost, shrugging. You secretly hope Joost doesn't decide to take the couch anyway.

"Cool," He grins, eyes scanning the apartment awkwardly.

"Good," Your voice just above a whisper, "Uh, you can make yourself comfortable then, I'll be back." You nod before heading to the bathroom, ready to get your makeup off of your face.

You unzip Joost's hoodie, hooking it on the back of the bathroom door, not wanting to get it wet while washing your face. You head toward the sink, turning the faucet, staring at yourself in the mirror while you wait for the water to warm up.

You sigh, using this alone time to think long and hard about how you want this night to end. Off the top of your head, you know how you want the night to end, the man you were once certain was the love of your life was most definitely making himself comfortable in your bed, it seemed like a no brainer of how you want this night to end.

But it's not so easy to throw away your morality completely, though maybe you've already made your bed by asking Joost to stay the night. Michael would be mad regardless, perhaps there's no point of turning back now. You clench your jaw, deciding you're willing to go however far Joost is.

Another fifteen minutes in the bathroom and you're stepping out feeling a little better, nerves quelled by your extensive nightly self-care routine. You breathe in as you open the bathroom door, your mouth tingling from your minty toothpaste as you take the air in. You exhale as you exit the bathroom, walking towards your bedroom.

The door is open, the room dimly lit by the glow of your TV, and the light that shines in from your balcony window.

Joost lays comfortably in your bed, his lower body resting beneath your thick comforter, it's like he belongs there, resting so casually as if it was his bed too.

"You can turn on a light you know," You smile, your voice pulling him away from whatever he had been watching on TV.

"Oh," He sits up from his position against the pillows, "I wasn't sure if you wanted it on." He rolls over slightly, stretching an arm out to turn on the lamp that sits on your bedside table.

With a faint click your room is cast in a soft orange hue. You take a look around the now illuminated space, realizing you had forgotten to straighten up before you left for the night, some clothes scattered around the floor from your frantic search for the "perfect" outfit.

"Sorry about the mess," An unnecessary shyness in your voice, as Joost had certainly seen your room in worse states.

"I didn't even notice," He chuckles, "Guess I added to it," His head cocking towards your dresser, the pants he had been wearing messily folded with the belt still in the loops sitting on top of it.

You don't respond, instead bending down to unbuckle the ankle strap on your shoes before sliding them off. There's a relief as your feet hit the floor, no longer stuck in the forced uncomfortable position from your high heels. You place your shoes off to the side and close your bedroom door behind you as you step further in.

You walk towards you dresser, thumbing through a mountain of clothes to find something to sleep in, pulling out a T-shirt that had no doubt belonged to Joost some time ago.

"You know, your boyfriend's kind of a dick." Joost speaks unprompted.

"What?" You laugh, shutting one of the drawers to the dresser before spinning around to face Joost.

"Sorry," He furrows his eyebrows, "That was uncalled for. I was- just thinking about tonight, what he said, about the music stuff- and leaving you at the restaurant."

"Oh," You frown, he's not wrong, but you should probably defend your boyfriend, "Michael is just-" Nothing comes to mind, you cannot muster any sort of actual defense, "Yeah, I guess he can be sort of a dick." Your tone becomes dejected, an unfortunate realization that maybe, once again, you had't picked the right man.

"Wow," Joost seems amused, "Never seen you so quick to admit I'm right."

"Shut up," You roll your eyes, playfully scolding him, "Anyways, it's his loss really that he didn't take me home tonight." You pause, taking the intrigue on Joost's face, the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise, eager to listen to your complaints, as he for once, was finally not the subject of them. "Bought some cute new lingerie, which I wore tonight, and now he doesn't get to see it." A careful smirk pulling at your lips, "What a waste."

Joost shakes his head, "Poor guy." despite his words it's clear he doesn't feel sorry for him, though, why would he, "But I mean-" He hesitates for a moment, "It doesn't have to be a waste."

"No?" You can feel your face grow hot, "What are you suggesting? That I go through the effort of posing for some pictures for him so he doesn't have to miss out?" You know he's not, but you need the confirmation.

Joost squints his eyes, shaking his head,

"I was actually, thinking of a different audience entirely."

"And that audience being..."

"Me."

"You?" The pair of you speak simultaneously

"Hmm," You pretend to think, as if this wasn't what you were hoping he'd say, "I'm sure you'll appreciate it more than he would anyway."

Joost nods fervently, as your hands fly to the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting the fabric over your head exposing the promised cute new bra. It was simple, black, lace, with a bow between the two cups, but you found it cute regardless, plus, it made your boobs look amazing.

A small smile on your face as you flick your eyes to Joost, who's now sitting up a little higher on the pillows, clearly amused, waiting on edge to see the matching panties. You continue to stare him down as you very slowly pull down the zipper on the back of your skirt.

"Need any help with that?" Joost raises an eyebrow, the question is purely rhetorical but you know he'd love nothing more right now than to get his hands on you.

"No, I think I got it." The zipper reaches as far down as it can go, the skirt loosening at your waist. You do the extra work to pull it over your thighs before letting it slip down past your knees to your ankles, kicking it off to the side.

The panties are just as simple as the bra, a plain black thong with a lacy trim, with a bow in the middle of the waist band to match.

Joost squints, "Oh, you know my eyesight is bad, come closer."

A slight giggle leaves your mouth as you scurry over to the bed in excited anticipation. You stand over where Joost lies now, biting down on your tongue so hard you're sure you'll draw blood. Joost's eager eyes swallow you whole, taking in every inch of your newly exposed body.

Joost sits up all the way, the comforter that once covered him slipping down his chest and into his lap. He swings his legs over so they hang off the bed before reaching out a hand, gently placing it on your hip,

"Oh, schatje," He mumbles, his thumb moving back and forth, gently caressing your skin. Every time Joost touched you like this it felt like the first, your muscles tensing under him. He slides his hand up your torso so it rests on your waist, groping your lightly. "Je bent zo mooi," (you look so beautiful) His eyes find yours, making sharp, and direct eye contact with each other as a smirk forms upon his lips, "I'll almost feel bad taking all this off of you."

"Taking it off me?" You gasp, pretending to be offended by his insinuation.

"No?" He asks, raising an eyebrow like it's a challenge.

"Yeah- I mean, It's kind of unfair, y'know, talking about getting me undressed when you're still pretty clothed."

"What?" He teases, "You want me naked, schatje?"

"Mmm," You purse your lips, "I didn't say that, just if I'm gonna stand here in nothing but my underwear, maybe you should have to take something off too."

"You don't drive much of a hard bargain." Joost smiles, his hands already eager to tear off his shirt, "But that's probably because I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?" You bite your lip, deep down you wish it was as true as he says it is now, just about anything seems like a more apt estimation. He'd do anything but be emotionally present when you need it, anything but listen to you when you say there's a problem in your relationship, anything but engage in healthy communication.

But now's not the time to worry about that, to worry about the past, or the future, not when Joost is undressing in front of you, pulling his black T-shirt over his head, messing up his already unruly blond hair.

The second his flesh is exposed you're already aching to put your hands all over him, yearning for the feeling of his soft skin below your hands.

"Better," The ends of your mouth pull upward in content,

"Don't think so," Joost pouts before looking down at himself, "I don't think we're even, I think... my chest is pretty exposed and you're still very... covered." He looks back at you, waving his hand in a circle as he gestures towards your bra.

"You're ridiculous," You let out a small laugh at the way Joost plays your game.

"No, just being fair," He grabs your hand, pulling you closer so you stand between his legs, "Like you say." He leans forward, placing a kiss just below your belly button, his hands moving to settle on the backs of your thighs, keeping you close to him.

"Right," You smile, "Fair." Your hands crawling up your sides, reading towards your back, quickly fumbling around with the clasp of your bra before unhooking it.

Joost looks up from where he's pressed against your stomach, watching with intent as you slide the straps down your arms, and eventually discarding the bra all together.

You're not as ashamed as you should be, standing in front of Joost like this, in fact, you rather like the way he drinks you in, wordlessly admiring you, devouring your frame with hungry eyes.

"C'mon," Joost pulls away from you, his hands leaving your thighs, "Lay down with me?"

You nod, stepping back from where you stand between his legs so he can crawl back into your bed, shifting to the middle of the mattress. You follow shortly after, crawling on top of the blankets, before making your way to Joost.

Immediately you're straddling him, your knees on either side of him as you sit on his thighs. You try to keep your eyes trained on his face, and pretend not to notice the rest of him, or the way he's beginning to strain against the tight confines of his underwear. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling similarly to him now, a familiar pulsing in your inner thighs, thumping heavily, muscles tight.

"Here," Joost motions with both hands for you to come closer, to rest your bare chest against his. It's an offer you'd be stupid not to accept, leaning forward, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. As you lean down, Joost's lips meet yours, enveloping you in a kiss so soft if it hadn't been coming from your ex, it would be romantic.

Or perhaps that fact had made it more romantic. Regardless you were lost in the way his lips worked slowly against yours, the two of you in perfect rhythm. You straighten your legs so you're laying completely on top of him. Joost's hands move to your waist, helping to position your hips. Your mouth opens slightly, gasping against Joost's lips once you finally feel him put you in the perfect position, the growing bulge in his underwear now right under your crotch.

"Right there," He mumbles before his mouth melts back into yours. You push your hips forward finding some friction between yours and Joost's bodies. You're pathetic, pathetic for him, but it's hard to care, not when he slips his tongue past your lips, hungrily exploring your mouth. Not when he holds your hips so tight his fingertips are sure to bruise your flesh, pulling you down towards him, letting you feel the full extent to how badly he needed you.

You roll your hips forward, your clit grinding against, what you assume is the tip of his now hardened cock. Joost groans into the kiss, clearly enjoying the sensation. By now the two of you would usually be scrambling to get each other naked, but the extra clothing, and the lack of penetration almost makes things more intimate. Joost turns his head for a moment to pull back from the kiss,

"Tell me if we start to take things too far." His voice is strained, and the slow caress of his thumb against your lower back ensuring how genuine each word he spoke was, "Promise?"

"Promise," You whisper.

Truthfully you were long past the point of "taking things too far", having already crossed a line when you decided to tease him under the table at the restaurant. This, now, was borderline unacceptable, fuck that, it was unacceptable- but neither of you seem to mind, Joost almost eager to be a "home wrecker", and you denying that you and Michael even had a home to wreck.

Despite how immoral this may be, you need more of Joost, the death grip he has on your hips has you moving far too slow for your complete and utter desperation.

"Faster," You sigh against Joost's lips, hoping he'll listen rather than using your request to tease you. Joost's hands move just below your ass, his blunt fingernails ripping into the backs of your thighs, spreading them further apart. With his new position you're able move more on your own, able to stimulate yourself more. Pushing your knees into the soft mattress, you begin to rut your hips faster, increasing the friction between you.

As hard as you try to keep a consistent pace, the burning desire in your core and the slick of your arousal make it almost impossible, unable to keep up with your own need.

"You like it like this?" Joost asks, almost breathless, a cockiness in his voice that tells you he already knows the answer.

"Mmhm," You hum lazily, letting your head drop from where you had been holding it up above Joost's, down to his shoulder. You're impossibly drunk off the way you feel, the way with each roll of your hips your clit grinds so perfectly against the length of Joost's cock. It's mind numbing how perfect you fit together, even stifled through your remaining clothes, you're filled with such pleasure.

You dig your fingers into the sides of Joost's arms, fingernails sure to leave little crescent moon shaped markings in his skin. You wish you could pull him closer, still feeling like there is a distance that needs to be closed between the two of you despite your position on top of him.

You clench your jaw, muscles tight at the way your body strains for him. Joost lets one hand climb up your thigh, palm now resting on the curve of you ass, before his fingernails return to your flesh, groping harshly, forcing you to grind harder against his cock. It's apparent that being away from each other for as short as a month was far too long.

You want to hold out for as long as possible, not wanting this feeling to fade, for it to be over in as quick as a few seconds as your orgasm rains over you- but its not so easy as the tightness builds between your thighs, and your movements become even sloppier than they were before.

You're a complete mess the way you whimper into the side of Joost's neck, only egged on by his obvious pulse thumping against your swollen lips.

Joost's own groans don't help holding you off from your impending climax, knowing how good this feels for him too, and that he's just as desperate for you as you are from him is just all too much for your brain to handle.

You know you're close when your legs start to tremble, and its not so easy to push yourself back and forth anymore,

"Tired already?" Joost teases, "Need me to help you?" He wraps two strong arms around your lower back, taking it upon himself to replicate your movements. Joost also thrusts his hips forward in time with you, only making your stimulation more intense.

"So good," The full breadth of you vocabulary seems to disappear, only able to slur together a few measly words to let Joost know how you were feeling, "Feels so good."

"I know it does," He sighs, "You close, schatje? Your legs are shaking."

"Very close," You screw your eyes tight, the hot simmering in your core about to turn over and reach its boiling point. Each and every one of your muscles are incredibly tight, bracing for your impending orgasm.

Joost holds you tighter upon hearing how close you were, determined to work you through your orgasm.

"Whenever you're ready," He encourages.

You could almost break a tooth with how tight your jaw is clenched, nothing but strained whines clawing their way out of your throat as you approach your climax.

The idea of cumming in your panties is a little embarrassing, but in the way that instead of making you want to crawl inside of your self in shame, it makes you only that much closer to finishing. Especially when combined with the filthiness of the fact you'll be ruining those panties over a different man than the one you bought them for. Joost had a habit of brining out the worst in you in the best ways, and now was no different.

"Joost," Your jaw finally unclenches in order for you to get one final word desperate out before your orgasm strikes you. A hot pang of electricity cracks throughout your entire body.

Joost's grip on you does not let up as you ride out your high, his voice nothing but a dull mumble of praises, "Ja, dat is het" (yeah that's it)

You continue to thrust against Joost until you're throbbing with overstimulation, gasping for air against Joost's neck.

"Is that all you got for me?" Joost asks, his words are lighthearted, not minding if you're too tired to continue for the night.

But you're not ready for the night to end, not so abruptly, just like that.

"Just," You inhale, your chest rising against Joost's, "Catching my breath." Exhale.

"Yeah," Joost laughs, high, and light- almost a giggle, "You were working pretty hard."

"Hmm," You hum, "You helped, a little." Acknowledging your orgasm was mainly due to your own work.

"I don't think that's enough," Joost pauses to place a kiss to the crown of your head, "Why don't you lay on your back so I can give you some real effort."

You peel yourself off of Joost's chest, bodies lightly sticky with sweat. You roll over, lightly thumping onto the mattress, landing on your back. Joost wastes no time in getting on top of you, perched on his hands and knees above you. A sight you had gotten used to by now, but it had never gotten less thrilling.

His unruly blonde locks spill over his forehead, some strands sticking against his skin with perspiration. His pupils are blown wide, looking like he's been rolling on molly, but his drug of choice tonight is you, your mere presence getting him higher than the finest pills or powder money could buy.

A lazy smirk draws across his swollen pink lips, a chuckle falling from them as they part,

"Don't laugh if I don't last too long," He jokes, bending his arms to lean forward and kiss your forehead, "You got me a little worked up."

"A little?"

"Very," He sighs in feigned defeat, "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Yeah, both in and out of the bedroom I'm sure." You grin, allowing yourself for just a moment to laugh at the ridiculousness of the antics you often pulled with Joost.

"Mhm," He nods, "But I probably deserve it."

"At least you're self aware, acceptance is the first step to recovery."

"Shut up," He laughs

"Make me," So cliche, You giggle.

It's a challenge Joost takes seriously, immediately catching your lips in another passionate kiss, rendering you unable to speak. You lift your arms, wrapping them around Joost's neck, pulling him down closer to you as you return his kiss.

He pulls away for a split instant, your arms falling to your side with a gentle thud.

"You're sure you want this?" His words are cautious, "We don't have to-"

"I wanna," You cut him off, "I want you." Emphasizing how badly it's him you want.

"In that case," He lifts himself from you, propped up on his knees as his hands reach for the waistband of his underwear. His fingers hook into the elastic, stretching it out slightly before pulling them down his thighs. You watch in anticipation as his cock springs free from the confines of the fabric. You shift your gaze between Joost's face and his dick, the tip a throbbing shade of red, leaky with pre-cum.

You curl your pointer finger towards you, beckoning for Joost to come closer as you prop yourself up on the pillows.

"How about we get these out of the way," Joost suggests, his hands finding their way into the elastic waistband of your panties. You nod, urging him to take them off, which he wastes no time doing.

As your panties come off you bend your legs, putting yourself on complete display for Joost. He grips the base of his cock in his palm, stroking up and down its shaft a few times, stopping at the tip momentarily to spread the clear pearl of precum that leaks from his slit around the head.

"Am I just supposed to stare while you jerk yourself off, or are you going to fuck me?" You tease.

"Patience is a virtue, schatje." He chastises, shaking his head back and forth.

"Fuck patience, I need you inside me." You whine, feeling your arousal growing once again at the anticipation of what's to come next.

"Fuck patience is right," He sighs, realizing what's in front of him.

Joost leans forward slowly to hover over you once more, his face close enough to you that the heat of his heavy breath is almost suffocating. You bite your lip, spreading your legs just a bit more, ready for him.

Joost's eyes trail down from your eyes to between your legs, ready to line himself up with your entrance, admiring every part of you along the way.

With the base of his cock held firmly in his hands, Joost sloppily pushes the tip through your soaked folds, collecting your arousal. You whine slightly, your whole body jerking as he passes your clit, still puffy and overstimulated from before.

Finally he lines himself up with your entrance, eyes flicking up towards you in search of a final nod of assurance, which you gladly give to him.

He pushes into you slowly, almost too slow, allowing you to feel all of him, every vein and curve as he enters you. You hold your breath as you wait for him to enter you completely, the way you stretch around him familiar yet incredibly overstimulating in your current state.

"You okay?" He exhales

"Y-yeah, keep going, please." You assure, nodding quickly.

Joost finally bottoms out, lingering fully inside of you before pulling most of the way out just as painfully slow,

It takes a few strokes for Joost to build up a pace, but once he does he's leaning over you once more. You raise both of your palms to his shoulders, gripping onto them for a split moment before sliding them down to his chest, running your hands over the tuft of dirty blonde hairs.

With each careful thrust into you, your breathing becomes heavier, your brain foggier, purely overwhelmed with the pleasure that is Joost.

"I missed this," Joost groans, "Fuck," He curses, pointed and sharp, "-'m'I gonna have to go another month without you after this? Don't know if I can handle that."

Having already crossed such a line in your relationship with Michael, it seemed unnecessary to deprive yourself of continuing to see Joost in this capacity again.

"Mmno," You slur, "Can have this whenever you want, whenever you want. Every day even."

"Every day, baby?" He raises an eyebrow, "What's the matter? Michael can't make you cum like I do?"

"Or at all," You sigh,

"Oh," Joost's expression is suddenly pained, "Not at all?"

"Barely." You clarify, not quite sure of why the topic of Michael is even being brought up during sex.

Joost lowers his head to your jaw, pressing open mouth kisses to your skin. His tongue is wet and warm, it's soothing, the sensation making you exhale in pure bliss.

"Just using me to cum then, hm?" His question not entirely serious.

"Oh shut up," You giggle, "That's what my fingers are for."

Joost places another sloppy kiss to your jaw before speaking again,

"And I don't suppose you're thinking of Michael when you're doing that?"

"Not exact-ly," You admit, the inflection of your voice raising on the last syllable as Joost begins to thrust into you harder.

"Care to enlighten me on what you do think about?" His voice leads you to believe he's confident that he's the one you think about when trying to get off, and of course, he's right.

"This, right here," You admit, breathing labored with Joost's sharp thrusts. "You," You swallow down a moan, "Fucking me." You bite your lip, "And when I don't feel like faking an orgasm, I imagine its you fucking me instead of Michael."

"Fuck, liefje," Joost lets out a low groan, "Gonna make me cum right now saying shit like that to me."

"Well it's true," You respond innocently, "Never gonna find anyone else like you." And part of you never wants to, Joost such a unique part of your life you'd never want to replace, no matter how rocky things have a habit of becoming between you.

Both of you cease to speak, no more sly remarks to make to each other, rather your bedroom filled only by the borderline pornographic noises you and Joost made together. The filthy wet slapping that bounced off the walls with each thrust, you whispered moans, and Joost's strained grunts instead filling the dead air.

You slide your hands towards Joost's neck, pressing down with your palms, careful not to choke him out, only wanting to feel him under you.

Joost seems like he's struggling to keep pace, his arms wavering on either side of you, signaling he was probably getting close, you're not far behind, but you can't help be disappointed, wishing this moment could last forever.

At this point, Joost knew your body by memory, knowing just where to thrust and at what pace to have you squirming and whimpering under him. And he was putting that knowledge to plenty good use now, the sound of your moans getting louder, and more unruly with each roll of his hips forward was music to his ears.

You feel your muscles tighten once more, already aching and sore from your prior activities, yet you don't let the strain distract you from your building climax. You know you won't be able to last much longer, not with the perfect angle Joost thrusts into you at, so deep with each stroke, and so delicately brushing over your sensitive clit every time he pulls out and subsequently dips back into you.

You keep your eyes trained on Joost for stability, watching the way his face contorts with each perfect thrust forward. He's pretty, almost impossibly so, in a way that makes it hard to care how frequently he seemed to make a mess of your life- it was all worth it, just to see that pretty face above you like this.

"You're staring," He can barely laugh, too out of breath, though he tries. Joost had always been amused by your infatuation with him, and even more so he loved to watch how shy you got when he called you out on it.

Your skin is hot, and not just from the obvious physical activity, it's a warmth that radiates from inside of you, burning every nerve. You let your head fall to the side, a sheepish smile stuck on your lips.

"Don't shy away from me, I'd like to stare at you too." He whines, coaxing you to look back at him.

Your eyes reach his once again, and you notice how his lips part in a deep gasp, ready to speak

"I'm close," His eyes screwing shut for a moment, "Do you want me to pull out?"

He'd never asked before, it had never been a problem, knowing full well you were on the pill.

"Huh-" You huff, "No"

"Just making sure," He speaks through gritted teeth, "Don't wanna be knocked up with another man's baby."

"Oh be quiet," You scold, realizing how badly you choosing to do this with him while you were with Michael had Joost reeling, obviously getting off on it. Getting off on the fact for what felt like for once in his life, he was the better man, and that he was obviously irreplaceable in your life.

"Fuck, schatje," He grunts, "You okay if I cum now?" Not like there was much of a choice, he didn't really have control over that sort of thing,

"Please," You plead, wanting nothing more than to take him to completion.

With a few sharp thrusts, ones that so deliciously hit that perfect spot inside of you, ones that leave you yelping so loud you're sure the neighbors will hear, Joost is spilling into you. His warm release coats your walls.

The feeling makes you clench, Joost sucking in a sharp breath at the way you grip him with his lingering thrusts. His hips sputter forward, sharply ramming into you, this one final move enough to set off your own expectant orgasm.

"Joost!" Your hands leave his neck, flying down to the bed to grab the comforter below you, gripping it harshly between your fingers for stability. Your whole body is overwhelmed by pleasure, and you begin to loose control, legs shaking, body squirming, noises you couldn't even know you could make leaving your lips. You're a complete mess, probably looking more like you're having an exorcism than having sex. But you can't help yourself, it's all too much, and feels all too good. "I'm-" You can't even finish your sentence before the walls of your pussy begin to flutter, your own release spilling out of you, mixing with Joost's to paint his cock with his few final lazy strokes.

Once your orgasm finally rolls over you, Joost is collapsing onto your chest, the pair of you desperate to catch your breaths. You release your grip from the comforter, fingers sore are you flex them, loosing them from their tightened position.

You know the impending wave of guilt is bound to crash into you at any moment, but at least for now you feel nice, Joost's hot, sweaty body atop you is a comforting weight, despite the way it slows your breathing.

You wrap your arms around his back, his skin sticky with perspiration, but you don't mind the way it feels, only wanting to be close to him. He's not quite ready to pull out of you yet, and you're not ready to let him go, instead both of you opt to enjoy the moment, letting your shallow breaths fill the room with eyes shut tight.

You press a kiss to Joost's forehead, unable to stop yourself from the mildly romantic gesture. It's clear Joost doesn't mind, placing a kiss to your shoulder from where his head lies on you.

After a few more minutes of embracing like this, Joost slowly begins to peel himself off of you. You watch intently as he lifts himself up, hair in every which direction, eyelids low, face heavy with lingering pleasure. You want nothing more than to pull him back down on you and stay like that, but you really need to catch your breath.

Carefully, Joost begins to pull out of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, a strangled whine leaving your throat.

"Sorry," Joost apologizes, finally pulling out of you completely. The way you can feel his release spilling out of you, onto your thighs makes you wince, a filthy reminder of what you had done. Joost most definitely notices the look on your face, backing off of the bed, "Hold on, I'll clean you up."

You assume Joost had run off to the bathroom, coming back a few moments later with a towel, gently patting it between your thighs, careful not to overstimulate you further.

"Gonna go onto the balcony for a smoke" He says, standing back up to redress himself in his underwear, "Want me to close the door behind me so it doesn't get cold in here?"

"It's okay," You sigh, finally having the strength to sit up. Your abdomen and legs are sore, letting you know tomorrow will be a challenge, "Just means you'll have to cuddle me when you get back in."

"Perfectly okay with that," He chuckles before heading to open up to the small balcony on the other side of your room.

A small breeze enters the room as the doors open, and soon the scent of smoke follows. The chill makes you want to hide under the covers, but something is pulling you to go out there with him. You quickly get up from the bed, fighting the cold as you scramble to put on the shirt you had picked out before and a new pair of underwear.

The cold of the outside fully hits you as you step onto the balcony, but it's hard to mind with Joost half-naked in front of you.

"You want a smoke?" He asks

"No, I'm good." You shake your head, "Just wanted to-" Your voice is soft as you wrap your arms around Joost's torso. He's still so warm despite the weather outside. He wraps his free arm behind you, pulling you close to him.

"That's alright," He mumbles into your hair, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You find comfort in the slow thump of your heart, and this way his chest rises and falls each time he takes a drag of his cigarette. You wish things with Joost could be like this all the time, though really you knew this was the calm before the next storm.

It's nice to pretend, though, at least for now. Pretend he's still your boyfriend, and that everything had worked out between the two of you like it should have.

"You alright, liefje? You're being nicer to me than usual." His slight laughter vibrates against your cheek from where it's pressed to your chest, making you snuggle into him.

You know he's joking but it makes you feel a little bad, knowing you can be harsh on him over the smallest things sometimes.

"I don't know," You sigh, overwhelmed with emotion once more, "I think that- I don't know." You repeat, "Confused."

"I am too."

"I'm sorry." You know it's your fault just as much as it is his.

"Me too."

"I think I still love you." You don't think, you know, but you feign like you're unsure to make it less real.

"Schatje," He coos, rubbing his hand over your back.

"Am I crazy to think you might still love me too?"

"Not at all." He presses another kiss to your head, "I know I love you too."

You dread the moment when you'll have to return back to real life, the reality where Joost is nothing more than an ex boyfriend, and you're with Michael- but for now things are good. Joost will wake you up with head in the morning, and after you'll go to that breakfast place you like around the corner, still in your pajamas. The two of you will sit next to each other in the booth, and hold hands under the table before heading home to share a shower together. And inevitably as the day grows later, one of you will make the smallest slip up, say one wrong thing, and you'll be at each others throats again, ending the day crying, finally ignoring each other until its time to repeat the cycle over again.

But that was a problem for tomorrow, right now you're in his arms, and he's telling you how much he still loves you, and you can pretend for just a moment, that maybe, just maybe things will change.

a/n: weeee i wasn't expecting this to get so long XD......... <3 but im so excited to finally get this out... mwah mwah <3... if you're feeling kind, leave a comment or a reblog to let me know what you think! thank you :3

[missswritesalot]

Yall tumblr was being a bitch and would literally not let me make a new post for whatever reason. It also deleted this ask from my inbox, thank heavens i had a screenshot. Enjoy, will edit it later to make it more medieval :)

Your marriage to Robb Stark didn’t come with a husband’s love, but nonetheless brought with it all the duties of the Lady of Winterfell. You felt robbed, neither your father not husband ever spared you a second thought. Yet you dutifully married Robb, and now were running his household.

You sighed as you helped one of the servants count sacks of grain in the great yard of Winterfell. The southern houses were yet to send the grain you bought. There was meat to be salted and firewood collected. Winter was coming, you thought worriedly, and there was still so much to do.

A frown fell on your face as you realized you were thinking like one of them.

Two months passed since your wedding. You thought you would get used to Robb openly loving Talisa. Yet these last few weeks you found yourself more quick to tears than you ever were. You didn’t care about Robb per se, but that he was your husband and shared his bed with a wench from the free cities.

You couldn’t even plead for an annulment, as you had consummated your marriage the night of the wedding. You remember feeling his caring touch, murmured apologies as he tenderly made love to you. He was determined but acted out of duty, not passion. You felt a spark of hope then, in the throes of pleasure. Perhaps now that he had you, Robb would be true and send Talisa away.

That hope was fleeting. He slept in her tent every night after that, for the rest of the war. Your broken heart hardened towards him, your humiliation turned to resentment.

When he won the war and you were seated next to him at the feast, you had foolishly hoped Robb would honor you on returning to Winterfell, and shun Talisa, but she remained by his side in your place. You felt despair, there was no light at the end of this tunnel.

You felt increasingly miserable this morning, and felt very light headed too. You had not been eating these last couple of weeks, and woke each morning retching. A wave of nausea rolled over you now.

“My lady, are you alright?” You heard a serf question as you faltered. You felt him guide you to a pile of hay but you were dizzy and sweaty, and fell into the inviting void.

When you awoke you were in bed propped up by pillows.

Catelyn was sitting next to you, and gave you a tentative smile when you looked at her.

“How do you feel?” She asked you gently. She patted you on the head. You felt too ill to reply.

The maester walked in and asked you a few questions. You answered curtly, you didn’t care for any of the northerners, not even him.

“My lady, I have examined you while asleep. I am happy to say you are with child,” he reported softly.

Your mouth fell open and your head whipped to look at him. “What?” You whispered. Catelyn squeezed your hand reassuringly.

You had given up on all hopes of motherhood when Robb went back to Talisa from the second night. You felt tears well in your eyes.

“Are you certain?” You whispered.

“We will know more as the months progress. The child will come before winter starts, if what we know is true.” He said, gently smiling.

You started to laugh. The hopeless despair ebbed away out of you. You were filled with joy so pure you started to cry.

“I thought it could never happen to me,” you muttered, unable to control yourself. Catelyn cringed but gave you a sympathetic glance.

You knew she felt bad for you and sympathized with you. She thought her husband’s bastard was the end of the world, but her son proved to be far worse.

You spent the rest of the day in bed, the maester’s instructions, and slightly rubbed your belly.

“Just you and me now, love,” you said, smiling to yourself.

It was Catelyn who told Robb that you were carrying his child. When the maester revealed the news, she had hoped it was because Robb finally took you to bed. But he seemed surprised, and told her not since the wedding night had he touched you.

Robb drowned in regret that night. Talisa tried to touch him, to hug him, but he shrugged her away and went to peer out the window, feeling the crisp northern air. He wanted to go to the only other person who felt the same happiness as him, but you had chosen to give up your right of informing him about your baby.

The months that followed made Robb crumble with guilt whenever your paths crossed.

You were glowing at dinner one night, smiling and answering all sorts of questions.

Your face looked surprised all of a sudden, and Robb looked at you worriedly. You grabbed Catelyn’s hand and let her feel your babe move. She laughed, blue eyes lighting up, and assured you it was alright, your baby was strong.

Talisa saw the longing and pining in Robb’s eyes. He wished to feel his son kick too. Instead, he looked dejected and regretted the bed he made for himself by hurting you. He apologized to Talisa that night. He paid her handsomely for the inconvenience and sent her away back to the south where she could reunite with the Sept.

As the months passed you grew in size and walked funnily. You read to your child often, and you and Catelyn became the best of friends. You looked forward to the birth, sure you were anxious, but it would be worth it to hold your child.

When the maesters suggested you lie in bed till the arrival of the little lord, Robb noticed your continual absence at dinner.

“Can I go meet her, mother?” He asked Catelyn one night as she walked out of your chamber.

“Why do you hurry? Perhaps you must wait until the child is grown and you are on your deathbed?” Catelyn said sharply, and turned on her heels. It took a beat for Robb to register that she was being sarcastic.

“It is my child too. My first. My hier.” Robb protested, following her.

“And yet while she struggles, you have not acknowledged it, nor have you uttered a kind word to her.” She said sharply.

“I- I-“ Robb was at a loss. He didn’t imagine you could want his company in your delicate situation. He felt a sharp spasm in his stomach as his guilt grew, he knew he took the easy way out by assigning responsibility to you, when he was to blame.

“I am ashamed you are my son,” Catelyn said finally. Robb watched her go, his heart sinking in his chest.

He didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next, and the nights after that. One day, he couldn’t take any more of the anguish and decided to pay you a visit. It was the middle of the night and the whole castle slept.

Your door creaked as he pushed it open, and to his surprise he saw you still awake. You were resting against the furs, half sitting, and had a book propped up on your swollen belly.

“Lady Y/N,” Robb said softly. He had always called you Lady Y/N or Lady Fray.

“My lord,” you said, confused. You no longer felt any anger when you saw him, but he was the last person you expected to see at this hour. Let alone in his breeches with a half open robe thrown on top.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he questioned gently. He carefully approached your bed till he sat on the edge, over the furs. You unwillingly noticed the strength in his shoulders, the hard lines of his abdomen. Maybe childbirth would lessen your desire, you hoped.

“I cannot breathe when I lay down. It’s like he rests on my lungs,” you said, affection infusing your voice as you spoke of your child.

“I’m sorry to hear,” Robb said softly. “I know I have not acted the ideal husband-“  He let out a self depreciating laugh.

“An understatement.” You said. He looked sad at that. Sad and pathetic.

He leaned forward and kissed your brow. “I cannot express how deeply sorry I am,” he whispered.

“I will try to atone for my sins. For you and for our child.”

“Robb,” you said quietly, eyes wide. “you can start by calling the maesters. I think he wants to come out.”

Robb sprung back and you noticed he looked younger than ever. His hair fell into his face.

“Now?” He asked, “Are you alright?”

You felt another sharp cramp hit. “The maesters, Robb. Now!”

Robb didn’t attend to his duties the next day. He sat outside your chambers, propped up against the wall with his legs spread out in front of him.

The maesters and even his mother warned that first babies were slow to come, he had better go about his duties. But his head was clouded with thoughts of you. He felt ice shards pierce his heart whenever he heard you moan or cry, but the silence in between was far worse to endure.

He prayed to the old gods and to the new that if you lived, he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

Robb didn’t wish to see anyone, and no one could convince him to go wait elsewhere. At last after sun down he heard the sounds of your baby. He waited to be let in, to see his child and heir.

It felt like ages before the door opened. Catelyn’s smiling face beckoned him inside. He found you seated on the bed again, looking drained but shining with pride and joy.

“Your daughter,” you said shyly to him, still looking at her. You rocked her as she let out a small cry. She did a tiny yawn and you cooed in response, your heart exploding with love.

“I’m sorry about how cruelly I treated you.” Robb apologized.

“Robb-“ you said, trying to stop him, but he cut you off.

“Neither you nor I entered this marriage willingly, but I have been most unfair. I do not wish to dishonor you. Love is something we build brick by brick, not momentary passion.”

“Why now?” You asked, confused. “Why now after all this time?”

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you.” You gasped.

“I know you do not share my feelings but we have a lifetime to correct it.” He continued, smiling cheekily.

You grinned and rolled your eyes. You were stuck with him, for better or worse.

[fangswbenefits]

Breaking Point

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You’ve teased Miguel beyond his already thin breaking point, and now you’re left to deal with the consequences.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’hara - spider-woman/reader

𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+!!! Possessive and jealous Miguel. Love bites featuring his fangs. Sexual tension. Dark Miguel.

𓂅 𓄹 Word count: 932

Thanks to @sapphire-and-ruby for the request! Screenshot below.

“Oh, bloody hell… he’s starin’ at us.”

You didn’t have to ask who Hobie was referring to, because you knew. Everyone knew. Besides, your heightened senses had long alerted you to his presence.

Miguel O’hara.

You twirled the straw inside your spider-man themed tall glass and took a sip. “That’s his problem.”

Hobie, however, didn’t share the sentiment and clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Yeah, and he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem now.”

“Relax, Hobie,” you waved your hand dismissively, even though you were beaming inside from the sudden attention. “How’s Miles and Gwen?”

Hobie was known to be extremely chill even when the occasion didn’t call for it, but if there was one person he didn’t want to antagonise it was Miguel.

“Yeah… he’s comin’ over,” he said, leaning back on his chair as if the mere fact that he was too close to you was dangerous.

And it could be.

Miguel’s tall frame cast a shadow as he halted by the bar table.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t even spare a glance at him, and kept smiling endearingly at Hobie who had visibly gone tense.

“Oye, I’m talking to you.”

You took yet another sip and paused before answering. “Is this work related?”

“No.”

“Then it can wait,” you shrugged, knowing fully well Miguel wasn’t going anywhere.

“It can’t.”

“I’m having a conversation with Hobie. Don’t be rude.”

No one would ever dare to talk to Miguel like that, and you took immense pride in knowing you could get away with it.

Or so you thought.

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” he said in his usual flat tone. “Right, Hobie?”

He straightened up really fast in his seat. “Huh… sure, mate! I was just leavin’ anyways. Wanna brush up on…” he adjusted the guitar on his lap as he prepared to take his leave. “… oh! On the rising dangers of capitalism, yeah!”

“Hobie, don’t you dare,” you warned, ready to hold him in place with your webbing if needed. “It’s our day off. Let’s chill.”

The man in front of you froze momentarily, unsure of what to do next.

“Yeah, you lot sort it out,” he ended up saying with a shrug. “I’m out.”

But before he could walk away you shot a thick string of webbing that landed on his guitar. To be honest, you had done it out of pure fun, but no one was laughing.

“Come here, Hobei,” you giggled.

“Oi! Not my guitar!” he huffed in annoyance.

At this point, everyone at the bar had shifted their attention to the rising commotion, and when a flash of red filled your field of vision you knew someone had finally reached their breaking point.

Miguel had cut Hobei free from your grip with his own digital webbing which earned a few gasps from the surrounding crowd.

The spider-punk shot you a final death glare before hauling himself from the ground and disappearing into the distance.

It was your turn to throw Miguel the best murderous look you could conjure. “Happy?”

“Not until you come with me.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere private,” he said, his handsome face twisting into something dark.

You went back to your drink and decided to push him a little further.

“Don’t. Ignore. Me.”

He then wrapped a strong hand around your wrist, careful not to apply too much pressure.

You noticed a few wary glances from those close by. “You’re making a scene.”

“Me?”

You nodded, sticking out your tongue at him, causing him to bare his fangs at you.

Fuck.

Miguel quickly lowered his head so he could level his lips with your ear. “I’m done with you. Come,” he tugged at your wrist, hoping you’d follow his command.

You should know better than to push Miguel O’hara. What he lacked in humour he definitely made up for in jealousy.

He had been circling you for weeks now. Waiting for you to finally give in.

But while he wanted you to fall for his not so subtle advances, you wanted him to crawl for you.

“What if I say no?”

You felt his breath fanning your ear once more. “Do you want to say no?”

Touché.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to admit defeat, but you also didn’t want to draw more attention to yourself.

A secret part of you yearned to know what would happen next.

“Fine,” you shot, unhooking his fingers from you.

You followed him through the exit door, flashing a few reassuring smiles at your fellow spider-men abd spider-women on your way out.

Miguel kept his determined pace in front of you as you both walked down a near deserted street.

As you were about to ask where he was taking you, you felt your body being shoved into an alleyway, before your spider senses could register what was happening.

Miguel O’hara had your back firmly pressed against a cold wall with only the dim light of a nearby neon sign allowing you to see his hardened face.

“What—”

He brought his covered hand to press your lips shut. “I’m done with your fucking teasing.”

Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a few beats as you felt him pressing his toned body against yours, effectively keeping you in place. His free hand gripped your wrist tightly.

“I’m done seeing you pay attention to anyone but me.”

You shuddered at his growl.

“Done seeing you not wanting to be mine.”

You briefly contemplated putting up a fight, but you knew silence could be equally effective.

“You’ve been hanging around Hobei too much,” his face was so close you could almost feel every word hit your skin. “Do you want him?”

Silence.

He removed his hand from your face, expecting a reply.

You gave him a smug smile instead, savouring the heat that radiated from his body. “What if I do?”

His fingers were on your jaw now. “He won’t satisfy you.”

There it was. His pride in full display. You had no doubts Miguel could be an extraordinary lover. All that pent up frustration had to be channelled somewhere.

“You’re too full of yourself, Miguel O’hara.”

His lips nearly brushed yours as his red eyes glowed in the dark. “You want me. I can feel your heartbeat. I know of your desire for me.”

“Really?”

“I can smell it,” he smiled wide, revealing his set of fangs.

He was a predator. His entire DNA had been accidentally modified and gave place to a cunning predator.

At one point, what pinned you against the cold wall wasn’t his physical strength, but rather the weight of his words.

“Let me have you.”

You shut your eyes as you felt his teeth grazing the skin of your neck. A rush of adrenaline made its way down to your clit and you soon felt it pulsing with each flick of his tongue.

“Miguel… I…”

Soon, you felt him instinctively bucking his hips against you and his tight suit left little to the imagination as his cock grew increasingly harder.

The grip on your jaw didn’t waver as he delivered open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you ended up wrapping them along his forearms as if scared your knees might give up on you.

“You’re mine.”

All these weeks managing to keep your desire for him at bay had been for nothing.

“I’m done fucking my hands when I could be fucking you instead,” he growled in between kisses, pressing his clothed cock into you.

He brought one of your hand down his body and in between the two of you.

“Go on,” he nearly hissed. “Feel how hard I get for you.”

He rubbed your palm across his impressive length and you nearly moaned as he brought his lips closer to yours once more.

You wanted to taste him more than ever and tried to close the gap, but he kept you in place.

The heat from his body was suddenly gone and you watched him climb up and away from you.

“What the fuck, Miguel? You’re leaving?!”

He looked down at you, his face twisting into a devious grin. “Now you know how painful it feels.”

[kirammanswifey]

《Beyond Love, Only Chaos Remains》

Jinx

writer's note: i think that this has been one of the most toxic and sick things that i have ever written, but still, loved it, it's my cup of tea you guys. anyways, if you guys don't know this little twisted histories comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there if someone's interested, tomorrow it's vi's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, fingering, squirts, spitting, use of drugs, mentions of blood and weird kinks, emotional manipulation, stalking demeanor, obsessive and toxic relationship dinamyc, jinx and reader have a lot of mental issues but they still cool... i think that's all, have fun!

You always knew Jinx was special. From the very first moment you saw one of her videos, something clicked inside you, as if her colorful chaos and her manic laughter were the perfect echo of a dark corner in your own mind. It wasn’t just admiration; it was devotion, an inexplicable connection that made you feel like you were destined to find her, to know her… and maybe, to be part of her world.

Your room became an altar to Jinx: the walls covered in screenshots from her streams, printed cutouts of her most iconic photos, and even a monitor dedicated exclusively to playing her best clips on repeat. Each item had a purpose; every detail about her, no matter how insignificant, was another piece in your puzzle. You knew that her real name was Powder, but she felted comfortable being called by Jinx. You knew she about her taste for sweet things, that she preferred “Overblast” matches in chaos mode, and that despite her constant laughter, there were moments of silence between each stream, where she seemed… alone.

The obsession started as a normal interest, at least that’s what you told yourself. But soon you found her postal address in a stream where, by accident, her camera captured the name of her building. It was just curiosity at first, right? You convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being near her world, even if it meant spending hours in front of her building, imagining what she was doing, if she was thinking about her fans… if she was thinking about you.

Your username, HexedByJinx, first appeared in her chat months ago, when you dared to donate a significant amount during one of her streams. "Oh, wow! HexedByJinx, thanks for the support. I guess someone’s really enchanted by me, huh?" Her laugh echoed in your ears for days. You saved the clip and played it over and over until you could almost recite every word in the exact tone she used.

Soon, HexedByJinx stopped being just a name in the chat. You started sending her carefully selected gifts through her fan mailbox: a package of crumble cookies with a note that said, "To keep your energy up during those long matches," a necklace with a small rocket to match her explosive aesthetic, and a handwritten card that took you days to perfect. You never received a direct response, but in one stream, you saw her wearing the necklace. Your hands shook with excitement.

When she announced an event to meet fans, your chance finally arrived. You knew you couldn’t just be another face in the crowd. You spent weeks planning what to say, what to bring, and how to make Jinx remember you. You even designed a small digital painting inspired by her aesthetic and printed it as a gift. "She’ll see how much I care. She’ll know I’m different," you thought.

On the day of the event, you arrived early, watching the other fans as you waited for your turn. Jinx’s fans filled every corner of the place, many with blue or pink-dyed hair, as a tribute to their favorite influencer. Others carried signs and laughed nervously, but you stayed silent, studying them all. "They don’t understand how special she is," you thought, with a mix of pity and disdain. You were among them, but you weren’t like the others. You were completely focused on one goal: for her to notice you.

"Next!" shouted one of the organizers, signaling that it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward. When you finally stood before her, your heart was beating with almost unbearable intensity. There she was, Jinx, with her vibrant blue hair and mischievous smile, like a living work of art. But what struck you the most was seeing her up close, so real.

Upon seeing you, Jinx’s eyes locked onto yours with that intensity you’d always seen through the screen, but now it made you feel naked, vulnerable.

You took a cautious step forward, trying not to show any nerves. You extended the painting you had brought for her, a vibrant, chaotic portrait reflecting her personality.

"This is for you. I made it thinking of everything you represent," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

She took the painting and examined it closely. Her fingers traced the lines of the design as a satisfied smile formed on her face.

"Wow, this is… amazing." Her eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with curiosity. "Wait, you’re…?"

"I’m… well, I’m a big fan," you said, feeling your words sounding clumsy. You decided to take a risk. "I’m the one who always comments on your streams… HexedByJinx."

For a second, her expression changed. She tilted her head, as if trying to remember. Then, her eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across her face.

"Oh, of course! HexedByJinx. I thought you were a bot or something. You’re real. How crazy."

Her reaction made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit.

"You’re the one who always sends those donations with weird messages and crazy gifts. What was it you said? 'Make the world explode a little more'?"

You laughed nervously, nodding.

"Yeah… I tend to say that. I thought you wouldn’t remember."

"Remember? Please, you always make my streams more interesting. Plus, those gifts you send…" She held up the painting. "Like this one. You’ve got style, you know?"

You felt your cheeks heat up under her attention, but you forced yourself to keep composure.

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you do. You inspire me to be braver, more… free."

She studied you carefully, her gaze more intense than you expected. Then, a sly smile crept onto her face.

"Brave, huh? That sounds fun. So, what do you do to be so brave?"

You hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I’m a streamer, like you. Though not as big, of course…" you said, laughing nervously. "But I try to create content that connects with people, like you do."

Jinx rested her chin on her hand, looking at you with renewed interest.

"Streamer? That explains why you’re always in my streams. And what kind of content do you make? Something explosive, or are you one of the boring ones?"

"A bit of everything, but nothing as cool as yours," you admitted, shrugging. "Actually, I wanted to propose something…"

"Propose something?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smile that seemed like a challenge. "Alright, go ahead."

You took a deep breath.

"I wanted to see if we could collaborate on something. I think we could do something unique together, something that combines my art with your… well, your madness."

For a moment, you thought she might reject you. But to your surprise, Jinx burst out laughing.

"Collaborate with me? I like the way you think. You know what? It could be fun."

She leaned back, pulling a card from one of the pockets of her jacket, and slid it across the table to you.

"Here’s my manager’s contact. Talk to her and let me know if you’ve got something crazy enough to surprise me. But you better not bore me, alright?"

You took the card with trembling hands, but you managed to nod with confidence. Before you left, Jinx gave you one last look, leaning toward you with a mischievous smile.

"See you, Sugar Rush. Don’t disappoint me. Call me if you survive my manager," she joked, winking at you.

You stood frozen as the rest of the line moved forward. She gave her a nickname. To her. She was special to Jinx. That night, when you got home, you placed the empty painting where you’d planned to hang a picture of you and Jinx. It was only the beginning. She was already part of your life, but now, you were going to be part of hers.

The emotion you felt when you received Jinx's card didn't fade, even after you got home. You spent the whole night looking at the card, your fingers brushing over the printed letters as if they were the key to a world you now felt a part of. You knew you couldn't let this moment slip away, that you had to do something with it, something that would impress her. The idea of collaborating on something creative with Jinx filled you with adrenaline. The possibility of doing something that would truly leave a mark kept you awake late into the night, until you finally realized the inevitable: the only way to make this collaboration happen was to go beyond the expectations you had set for yourself.

It wasn't just about creating something for her; it was about creating something that reflected the chaos, the madness, and that unpredictable spark that so perfectly represented Jinx. You had to do something striking, something that showed you not only knew her, but understood her essence better than anyone else. Art could be the key, but you needed to go further. You decided you couldn’t present just any proposal. The work you wanted to present had to be completely aligned with what Jinx represented: breaking the conventional, transforming the ordinary into something entirely unexpected.

During the following week, you immersed yourself in creating something truly unique. You drew inspiration from the worlds she herself had built through her streams, the chaotic environments where her explosive energy seemed to bring everything she touched to life. But you also delved into her vulnerability, that strip of silence that snuck between the chaotic moments in her broadcasts. The art you were going to create wouldn’t just be for her; it would reflect everything that lay beneath her mask. You had to make her understand that you had noticed what no one else saw, the complexity of her being.

In the days leading up to your meeting with her manager, you became a whirlwind of ideas, sketches, and calculations. Every brushstroke, every element of the proposal seemed to require more attention, more dedication. You knew you couldn’t fail, not after everything you had done to get this far. Your purpose became a silent obsession: to make Jinx feel seen, not just admired, but understood.

The day you finally decided to send the email to her manager, you felt like you were sending a letter to the future. With a mix of nervousness and determination, you attached the proposal file. You knew everything could change in that moment. Maybe they would call you for a collaboration, or maybe they would ignore you completely, but it didn’t matter. You had come this far, and that in itself was an achievement.

Days later, the message arrived. The contact from her manager had responded, and there was something in their tone that filled you with anxiety. It said that Jinx had seen the proposal and wanted to talk to you, but there was a little unexpected twist: it wasn’t just about the collaboration you had imagined. The message also mentioned something about a new project for Jinx, one that was even more... risky. Were you ready for that? Fear and excitement mixed within you, but you knew you couldn’t back out. This was what you had been waiting for.

The next step was clear: the answer was yes.

The response was affirmative, and although the confirmation came through a formal email, you felt like the whole world stopped in that moment. What seemed like a simple step toward a project was transforming into an opportunity you couldn’t let slip away. Jinx had seen you, recognized your proposal, and now she wanted something more. You knew this meant the line between admiration and collaboration, between the fan and the creator, was completely blurring.

A few days passed before the call actually came. The manager’s number appeared on your phone, and as soon as you saw it, your heart skipped a beat. You answered with your breath catching, trying not to sound like just another fan, even though you knew deep down you were more than that. It wasn’t just the excitement of being part of her world; it was the possibility of getting closer to Jinx, of proving to her that you understood what no one else did.

"Hello, am I speaking with…?" The voice on the other end was professional, direct, but still had a friendly tone.

"Yes, this is… HexedByJinx." The name rolled off your tongue with a familiarity that no longer sounded strange. You felt like this whole journey had led you to this very moment.

"Ah, of course." A soft click in the background, as if the manager was checking something. "Jinx saw your proposal and is interested in seeing more. But before that, we need to talk about the direction you want to take this. She mentioned that you have some... unconventional ideas. That’s something she likes. So, tell me, what do you have in mind?"

A knot formed in your stomach, but you didn’t let fear stop you. You knew this was your chance to shine, and you couldn’t let it slip away. You spoke with a mix of confidence and excitement, detailing everything you had in mind: how you wanted to incorporate Jinx’s chaos, but also her vulnerability, how it all had to feel like an explosion of colors and sounds, but without losing the heart of who she really was. What you had planned wasn’t just visual art; it was an experience, one that could transcend what everyone thought they knew about Jinx.

"Perfect. Jinx is very intrigued. We’ll call you next week to discuss the details. Get ready for the unexpected. There’s no turning back once this starts." The manager hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you with a feeling of adrenaline, but also uncertainty. Something bigger was brewing, something that would change your life forever.

The call left a deep impression on you. It wasn’t just the first step toward a real collaboration, but a reminder that your world was about to be completely shaken. You could feel it, that strange pull toward the unknown. And as the days went by, you found yourself reviewing the details of the proposal again and again, adjusting and perfecting. You knew the work had only just begun.

The day of the meeting arrived faster than you expected. You found yourself again in front of Jinx, this time in her studio, surrounded by the same neon lights you had always seen through the screen, but now so real you could touch them. The air was charged with energy, a palpable chaos that made you feel like you could explode at any moment. She was there, as unpredictable as always, with that smile of hers, as if everything in the world could be destroyed by her laughter.

"Sugar Rush, you're here!" Jinx exclaimed when you walked in, her voice full of that energy that made you feel like nothing was impossible.

You sat across from her, your mind racing with all the ideas you wanted to share, but you knew it was time to listen. The proposal you had made was just the beginning; now you wanted to know how Jinx saw things, how far she could take this collaboration.

"I love the way you think. Have you realized that we're about to do something totally... fucking epic?" Jinx leaned forward, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and a hint of mischief.

You nodded, trying to keep up, but with every word from Jinx, every gesture, you felt more connected to her, more a part of her world. What had once been a fantasy, an impossible dream, was taking shape, and everything was starting to feel real.

"I know," your voice came out more confidently than you felt, but that was exactly what you needed. You weren't going to let fear hold you back now. "I'm ready to take it further. I'm ready for the world to see what you and I can do."

Jinx smiled again, this time with an unexpected softness, as if she were recognizing something more than just a fan. As if, finally, she was seeing you not only for what you had done but for what you were capable of creating.

"Then... let's get started. And brace yourself, because this is going to be one hell of a ride," her smile widened, and you couldn't help but smile too. You knew what was about to come would change your life forever, and you couldn't wait to see it.

Jinx's studio was lit only by the dim glow of the computer screens, which blinked incessantly, reflecting colors that never seemed fully defined. The place was a chaos of organized disorder, with scattered cables, tools, and fragments of what looked like unfinished experiments. The atmosphere was imbued with the energy of someone who lives on the edge, someone who doesn't fear the unknown, but seeks it, consumes it.

You found yourself staring at everything, feeling the tension rise as Jinx explained what she wanted to do. It wasn't just an artistic project, no. There was something much deeper, something dark behind her words. The intensity in her gaze penetrated to your bones. You knew that what was being forged here could change everything, and the idea of being so close to that chaos, that power, excited and terrified you at the same time.

"What we're going to do isn't just art; it's a statement. Something that will make everyone who sees it, who feels it, in their very core. Not some Mister Beast shit," Jinx said, her voice charged with that unpredictable energy only she could project.

You didn’t need her to explain any further. You understood what she was hinting at. There was something in the way she spoke, something in her proximity, that pushed you to enter unknown territory. The adrenaline started pumping through your veins, a mix of danger and excitement. Chaos had never been so tempting.

You leaned in closer to her, and for a moment, words ceased to matter. You were completely absorbed by her presence. There were no doubts in your mind, only an urgent need to connect with her, to immerse yourself in that darkness that so easily defined her.

"What we're going to do is going to shatter expectations. It won't just be a visual spectacle; it's going to be a clash of sensations, a direct hit to everything people think they understand about art and chaos. We're going to push those limits, make people feel every vibration, every reaction," Jinx said, getting closer and closer, as if guiding you to something you couldn’t walk away from.

The proposal was clear. What they wanted to create wasn’t just a visual installation, but an immersive experience that would take the participants and bring them to the edge of their fears, their darkest desires. A world where sensations would feel too real, where the viewer couldn’t distinguish between what was part of the installation and what was a reflection of their own mind. Chaos, uncertainty, discomfort. All of it would be translated into an emotional test so powerful that those who dared to enter would never leave the same way.

Art, in this case, wasn’t just something to look at. It was something to live.

Jinx was staring at you with an intensity that seemed to consume everything else. Every word, every gesture, was charged with a palpable urgency. She was so determined to bring her vision to the world that everything she touched became part of that vision.

And then, almost impulsively, you took a moment to look at her closely. The spark in her eyes, the way her lips curved into a smile that only true chaos could generate, hypnotized you. You realized you were facing something much bigger than just a project. You were facing a dangerous connection, and you couldn’t say no.

"I want you with me in this. Not as a spectator. As someone who understands what we're about to do," Jinx moved her face closer to yours, her words filled with uncontrollable desire. Her breath was warm on your skin, and her proximity made you feel like you were about to crumble.

And, although you knew it, you couldn’t pull away. This was the strongest attraction you’d felt in a long time. The fear that would normally have held you back faded, replaced by a burning need to be part of her world. To be part of that darkness, of that destructive energy that seemed to define her. You didn’t know if it was her madness, her magnetism, or something much deeper that kept you close, but you had surrendered without even questioning it.

"What do you need from me?" you asked, and although the words came out calmly, your voice was filled with something far more visceral.

Jinx smiled, with that smile that you knew would change everything.

"I need you to use your skills to bring this to life. To make it so real that no one who sees it will ever forget it. It’s going to be a spectacle that will make them question everything they know about fear, pleasure, madness. But I also need you. Without you, this doesn’t make sense."

In that moment, you realized something. This wasn’t just a project. It was an invitation to enter her world. A world where there were no rules. Where chaos was the only constant. And you, by your own choice, were handing yourself over to it.

The connection between both of you was so deep, so intense, that there was no room for doubt anymore. You didn’t need to think. All you could do was move forward. You knew that what you were about to create would be as destructive as it would be addictive. But, in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to sink further into the abyss she offered.

She looked at you, and in her eyes, you could see what she truly wanted. She wasn’t just looking for someone to help her create something. She was looking for someone willing to follow her to the end, to embrace the chaos by her side. And you knew that, for the first time, you felt completely alive.

The air in the warehouse was thick, heavy with the smell of mold and rusted metal. Every step you took echoed with a macabre sound, as if the place itself was alive, waiting for something. Jinx, with that crooked smile you never knew if it was malicious or simply excited, watched you as you moved forward. The room was lit only by dim lights, flickering on the ceiling, giving the place an even darker feel. You knew what you were about to do, and it was impossible not to feel a mix of excitement and tension in the air. This wasn’t just a show. This was art in its rawest, wildest form.

"Are you ready for what we’re about to do?" Jinx asked, her voice charged with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. There was no room for doubt. You knew there was no turning back, and you were surprised by how eager you felt, how your body responded almost automatically to her energy.

"Let’s do it," you replied firmly, though the uncertainty burned inside you. You felt the weight of what was coming. You felt yourself sinking deeper into this chaos, this madness you were creating together. Jinx was the fire, the spark, but you were the one holding the reins, the one who knew how to make it all fit, make it all make sense. Or so you thought. Or so you wanted to believe.

You moved into the center of the warehouse, the stream was on since minutes ago, where the screens and projectors were ready to be activated. Each one was placed with precision, yet there was a touch of disorder, as if it were something that should never be ordered. The perfect combination of chaos and control. Like the two of you.

The first participants arrived, and you felt the energy in the air shift. It was a mixture of anticipation and fear. One by one, the spectators entered the dark corridor you had designed, the lights flickering around them, casting shadows that seemed to move as if they were stalking them. You could see how their eyes filled with doubt, with insecurity, but also with a strange fascination. The sound, a deep rumble that grew in intensity, seeped into their veins, taking hold of them. Their pulse quickened, the air thickened.

They didn’t know what was waiting for them. You did.

As they moved forward, the projections began. They were fragmented images: distorted faces, broken memories, their own fears projected on the screens. The chaos was palpable. The walls, which at first seemed like mere ruins, came to life. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was working perfectly.

But then came the moment to give them what they really needed. The space darkened completely. The light vanished as if it had never existed. The sound turned into a low, heavy pulse, as though the universe itself was breathing in their ears. In that overwhelming silence, the shadows rose again. Something was changing. Something big was about to happen.

When the corridor ended, the participants were called one by one to enter what you had named "the fear chamber." A small, enclosed space, isolated from the world, where the rules of reality ceased to exist. The first one entered, trembling, unsure of what to expect. You watched everything from a dark corner, your breath steady, your eyes fixed on the screen. Inside the chamber, the lights flickered, then went out. A distorted figure appeared in the projections. The image of a face, and then another, one that quickly faded, leaving behind something that shouldn’t exist.

It was chaos made into an image. But the most interesting part was what was happening in their minds. Their own fears, their darkest desires, their insecurities… all of that was projected in front of them. They couldn’t escape. They couldn’t do anything.

You focused. You knew when to tighten, when to let the pressure build. It was such a precise control that it almost felt like an art of manipulation.

Jinx, in the back, was smiling. She was watching how each one of them cracked, how reality dissolved, but you were in your element, enjoying the chaos with a calm that only you could possess. In this moment, you were completely connected to the spectacle, to what you were creating. Jinx was your ally, your muse, your chaos, but you were the one shaping it into perfection.

Though you never said it aloud, the connection between you and Jinx grew deeper. It wasn’t just the art. It wasn’t just the show. It was something darker, something more personal. The way your ideas merged, the way your minds complemented each other in this game of shadows. It was as if together you could create something no one else could understand, something so intense and visceral that it left marks on the soul. You knew that Jinx needed you to give shape to her madness, and Jinx knew that you were the balance that gave it meaning.

The images on the screen now showed something different. A distorted figure. Your own face merged with Jinx’s. In the projection, both of you seemed to merge, transforming into a single entity. In that moment, you felt it deep inside: it was as if you could no longer live without her.

You looked at her face, at her crooked smile, as she manipulated the controls with almost obsessive precision. You felt that all of this was taking shape faster than you had imagined. The show was going to be something no spectator would ever forget, but the most shocking thing was what was happening inside you. The line between art and reality had blurred, and now, every moment with Jinx consumed you.

The end was near. You knew that the final phase, the climax of the show, was going to break them. The participants were already on the edge of despair, but you didn’t know how far you could push them. Every stimulus, every image, every sound, every smell, was designed to disturb them, to break them. The impact would be brutal. The chaos would be absolute. And you, watching from the shadows, were the one in control.

It was when everything seemed to collapse, when everything became unsustainable, when the participants felt like they were losing their minds, that the show reached its final moment. The lights went out. The sound turned into a roar, a scream, something that pierced their chest. The screen shattered, showing images of them, their own fears spilling over.

When the silence fell, you realized something. You had done what you wanted. You had brought to life something so dark, so deeply disturbing, that no one could forget it.

And by your side, Jinx kept smiling, waiting, enjoying the madness you had just unleashed.

You return to Jinx's apartment after the show, and the air between the two of you feels electrified. The success is palpable. The metrics, the comments, the followers. Everything has exploded. And it's not just because of the show, it's because you and Jinx have touched something deep in each viewer. The chaos you've created has left its mark.

Jinx, always restless, throws her backpack onto the couch and turns on a dim light in the corner of the room, casting shadows that dance on the walls. The music, a pounding industrial sound, begins to play in the background. Both of you are exhausted, but there's something undeniable: the tension between you two is stronger than ever.

You approach her without thinking too much. The celebration moment is no longer about success, but about what has been built between you. The silence between you two stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. It's the prelude to something more.

Jinx looks at you with those bright, unpredictable eyes, as always. "Aren't you tired of surprising me, Sugar Rush?" Her tone is playful, but there’s something darker hidden in her gaze, something that attracts you even more.

"No… I'm not tired of you," you reply with a raspy voice, taking another step closer to her. The distance between you two narrows until the electricity is palpable. Jinx doesn’t wait a second, grabs your neck, and kisses you wildly, as if all the madness you’ve unleashed on the world needs to escape in that moment. Her lips are demanding, and you don’t resist. The kiss is brutal, like a clash of overflowing passions.

You pull away a bit, looking into her eyes. You’re breathing fast, as if all the air in the apartment has been exhausted. "Jinx, I… I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but… I’m completely obsessed with you. Every time you’re not around, I lose control. I’ve done things... crazy things, things no one should do, and I feel sick for you."

Jinx doesn’t take a step back. Her smile grows, and although you know it’s a smile of madness, you also feel it excites her, everything you've just said. "Oh, Sugar Rush, I love it when you get so... intense."

Without being able to help it, your hands slide over her body, touching her skin, her tattoos, feeling the chemicals between you. "I’ve spent hours following you. Hours, Jinx. I wake up thinking about you, I fall asleep thinking about you. I’ve searched for every picture of you, every video. Sometimes I watch you without you knowing, and all I do is imagine what would happen if I had you closer. And then I realize I already have you close, and that... drives me crazy." Every word escapes your mouth with desperation, as if confessing it, all the weight of your obsession collapses.

Jinx laughs softly, but it’s a laugh full of evil and desire. "I’m driving you completely crazy, huh? I like it." Then, with unexpected speed, she pushes you against the wall, her body pressing against yours almost aggressively. Her hands explore your body with overflowing fury, as if she’s anxious to confirm that everything you just said is true, that she’s completely inside of you.

The touches between the two of you become more and more desperate. You’re afraid of what you might do if you keep giving in to this whirlwind of desire and madness. But at the same time, you can’t stop. Your mind and body are trapped, and Jinx is the only escape.

"You know, right?" Jinx whispers in your ear as her lips trace fiery kisses on your neck. "There’s no turning back. You’re mine, Sugar Rush." Her words are like sweet poison, and something inside you burns with more intensity. The truth becomes clearer, and you don’t want to escape it. You want more.

"Yes… yes, I’m yours," you murmur between gasps, losing yourself in her, in the heat, in the madness that consumes you. "And you… you’re mine. You’ll always be."

Jinx, hearing your words, smiles again, satisfied, and slides closer to you, taking your lips in a kiss so desperate and full of passion that you feel like the whole world is falling apart around you.

The apartment is lit only by the neon lights flickering, casting psychedelic shadows on the walls, like an ezquizofrenic show. The feeling of triumph has already faded, replaced by a much more urgent and dangerous need. You’re consumed by a flame you can’t extinguish, and Jinx knows it. You both know it. The chaos you’ve unleashed on the digital world has been nothing compared to the chaos now taking shape between you two.

In one corner of the room, Jinx pulls out a small box, opens it with a twisted smile, and inside, a white powder glows faintly under the light. She takes a spoonful, looks at it, and then, with a casual gesture, offers it to you.

"Come on, Sugar Rush, don’t you want to fly? We need this. All of this... this is ours. This is the last level."

You’re scared, for a second, of what you’re about to do. But the desire consumes you, temptation takes over. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months, and this... this feels like an escape. Making this decision is almost like, by doing so, you can finally release everything you’ve been holding back.

Taking the powder, you inhale it, feeling the burn in your nostrils, a direct hit to your brain. Instantly, warmth spreads through your body, euphoria begins to take control, and your thoughts become blurry, bubbly. Jinx looks at you intently as the powder begins to take effect, her eyes shining brighter than ever. "That’s it… you’re mine now, completely."

Reality begins to fade, and all that remains is the sound of the music and the sound of labored breathing between the two of you. Jinx approaches you again, this time with unexpected violence. It’s as if everything that was in her before is exploding. Her lips meet yours, and the passion that was once intense becomes something wild, insatiable. The contact between you two is like a clash of uncontrollable forces.

"I’m devouring you, can you feel it?" Jinx whispers between kisses, almost as if she’s talking to someone else, as if the conversation is a delirium. Her voice mixes with the music, creating a strange, thick melody. "You’ll never escape from me, never."

Your head spins. The powder makes everything you touched before now feel more real, more raw, more intensely sensitive. Every touch of her skin makes you shiver, and every word, no matter how absurd, drags you deeper into the madness. You don’t know if the desire you feel for her is real or if it’s just a fantasy fueled by what you’ve inhaled, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters now is that you can’t stop touching her, you can’t stop losing yourself in her.

Jinx's fingers slipped under your shirt, she smiled widely when she noticed you were braless, easy work. Her fingers squeezed your left nipple mercilessly, she rubbed it with her palm from top to bottom to make it more and more sensitive, so sensitive that it was impossible to bear, it was like a delicious torture. Your moans were not long in coming, from one second to the next you found yourself asking for more. You needed more. You needed her.

"What did you say, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, moving closer to your neck and biting hard, she sank her teeth in as deep as she could, and when you were about to scream she choked you with her hands to stop you, and that only made you more excited.

She didn't let go of your neck until she felt blood in her mouth, then she grabbed your hair.

"Open your mouth," She demanded, dominant and amused.

You could see her lips stained with blood, with your blood. Exquisite, red had always suited her so well. Without protest you obeyed, opening as wide as you could, sticking out your tongue that was dripping with excess saliva, drool sliding down your throat.

Jinx bit her lip and squeezed your cheeks, her extravagant half-painted nails digging into your skin, then she leaned in and spit in your mouth. You had no other reflex than to swallow and smile at her, grateful for what she was giving you.

Jinx laughed mockingly, she was using you as her toy, and you were more than happy to be.

"Let's try one more time. What do you want from me, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, still tasting your blood in her mouth.

"I want you to fuck me, but if you don't want to it doesn't matter. I'd settle for just this, you can keep biting me and drinking my blood, I don't care. I'm happy with anything that comes from you," You were lucky you were so high you couldn't hear yourself, because you really sounded pitiful and not very sane.

And Jinx loved it. She loved the power she had over you.

"You're kind of pathetic, Sugar Rush. You'd settle for anything, huh?" A dangerous glint lit up Jinx's eyes. "I mean, I could pull my pants down right now, piss on your face and you'd still thank me?"

And the saddest thing was that you didn't have to think about it, your head bobbing up and down in a way that was almost mechanical. "I love everything about you," You confessed hoarsely, imagining the scene vividly in your twisted head.

Jinx stifled an awkward laugh.

"Don't worry, baby, I won't go that far... yet," Jinx smirks, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light, and she pushes you against the wall again. "That's what I want to hear, Sugar Rush. I know you want me. I know I'm controlling you. Now shut up and enjoy."

Jinx squeezed her neck with one hand, putting special force where she had hurt her, and her other hand traveled from her mouth to your lower part. She put her hand under your skirt and with her legs she made yours open to have better access. Her index finger moved your underwear to the side and she stuck a finger in you, she took it out and put it in repeatedly, not going too deep, just testing its capacity. Her thumb rubbed your fluids against your clit, pressing it lightly, she was killing you slowly.

You writhed in her clutches, your body made involuntary contractions that harassed you with blows to the face for your stubbornness, Jinx hated it when you didn't listen.

"It seems that someone is a little restless. Maybe I should increase the intensity and see how long you can take it."

And without warning she inserted three more fingers, a scream escaped from deep in your throat, your eyes rolled back. Jinx's hand was busy all over your pussy, her four fingers penetrating you and her thumb never stopping punishing your clit. It was perfect. Simply perfect.

Jinx looked at you with her typical crazy smile, while she masturbated you she brought her face closer to yours to start filling you with licks all over. It was so wild, it was such a basic instinct, so primal. For a moment it felt like they had returned to the Paleolithic period, where they only had to eat, fuck and survive. And the truth is that it sounded like a good plan, the best, actually.

You couldn't take the intensity any longer and you came in a guttural, almost superhuman growl. Your juices were sliding through Jinx's hand, who still hadn't taken her fingers out of you, she was using you as her personalized Xbox controller, overstimulating you in a way that would make you lose your mind at any moment.

Luckily for you, she got bored after a few minutes and let you rest. Her reflex was to wipe your juices off her hand, and seeing this you almost felt like you could cum again.

"Can you sit on my face?" The question came out of your lips without any filter.

Jinx looked at you still with her sticky fingers in her mouth, she smiled and bit her thumb, smelling your essence on it.

"Lie down on the couch."

And you didn't need to hear it twice, even with your legs shaking you ran to the furniture and positioned yourself in the best way, with your head resting on the headboard, waiting patiently for your prize. God, this would be like a dream come true for you. But it all got even better when you looked to the side and were met with the scene you never thought you'd witness in real life.

Jinx was stripping in front of you. Your lustful gaze traveled all over her body, from her slim ankles, to her plump thighs, to those dreamy hips, and of course, to her tiny waist. Her nipples were the same shade of pale pink you'd bet on.

"Don't stare at me like that, you lil' freak," Despite her teasing tone it didn't sound like it bothered her at all.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it, you're gorgeous, the most..."

Jinx rolled her eyes and shushed you with a mime gesture. She stretched and her bones creaked exquisitely, she was warming up her muscles, because the position she would be in next required a lot of physical endurance, especially as time passed.

And meanwhile, you just waited in silence, delighted by the sight. Jinx climbed onto the furniture with her back to you, first staring at you, her pupils dilated.

"Enough talk, get that pretty mouth working. I want to cum too, fuck," And without warning, as was typical of Jinx, she sat on your face, and not in a delicate way, it should be noted.

She jumped on you as if you were an inflatable ball. Leaving you without air every two minutes, and in a very macabre way, you found yourself pleased with that idea. You could die like this and you would be happy.

"Your nose tickles me, Sugar Rush, it's amazing. I think you've become my favorite seat." Jinx alternated between breathy giggles and long sighs, it was a crazy experience, literally.

You were enjoying it, but not completely. You wanted to taste her, make her feel good, show her your full potential. So you took a chance and grabbed her by the hips, digging your fingers into her bones to keep her still.

Jinx moaned loudly as your tongue penetrated her deeply. You buried your face in that glorious pussy, breathing in her scent and only became more addicted, hungrier. You licked without stopping, interspersing it with occasional little bites.

Jinx looked down at you, you looked so cute like this, beneath her.

"I bet I'm fulfilling your biggest fantasy. I'm sure you used to masturbating while watching my streams, you little pervert."

And your muffled moan only proved her right.

"It feels like I'm helping a charity cause," Jinx humiliated you with her words and you could only continue to please her, because it was what you had to do, you were born to do it. "Shit, I'm gonna cum. Open your mouth." She bellowed in a high, whiny voice.

Jinx put pressure on her numb legs and stood up a little, she leaned on the couch and with her other hand she quickly caressed her clit in search of her orgasm. An orgasm that shot not only to your face but to part of your body, Jinx had had the biggest squirt you had ever seen in your life.

Exhausted, she let herself fall on top of you. Your naked and sweaty bodies intertwined like two threads of the same piece. Her long blue hair wrapped around you like a cloak, you stared at the ceiling and smiled big. Is this what happiness felt like?

"Why are you smiling, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, poking your cheek.

"Because I'm happy." It was the first time in your life you were able to say such a phrase, and yet you still couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe any of it—couldn't believe your luck.

"Aw, how sweet. Wanna do it again?" The sudden shift in conversation left you stunned.

Jinx didn’t wait for an answer. She kissed you, hard and rough. Your hands moved frantically across her body, searching for more than just skin. You wanted to go deeper, to tear her apart and reach her very heart. It felt as though everything was slipping away, as though reality itself was unraveling, and the only constant was her.

"Do you want to, Sugar Rush? How far would you go for me?" Her voice was husky, dripping with dark energy. She cupped your face gently, almost as if this were some twisted game. "I’ve made you mine, you know that, don’t you?"

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. You could only react. Her lips, her skin, the chaos surrounding you both—it all blurred into a single, undeniable truth. She was the only thing that mattered. Only her.

The kiss grew more desperate. Your bodies collided, pulled, and clawed at each other, as if devouring and becoming one in the process. Words became meaningless, empty. All that remained was the raw, unrelenting need, the way you were both destroying and remaking each other with every touch, every breath, every frantic caress.

The early morning had fallen when, finally, exhausted and caught in a whirlwind of emotions and adrenaline, they fell into silence. The room was filled with a mix of sweat and the heavy air of what had happened. The glow of the computer screen still illuminated their faces, even though the stream had ended, and the numbers kept rising.

Jinx lay back on the bed, still smiling with that overflowing spark in her eyes, but something had changed. She wasn’t the same crazy, attention-seeking lunatic anymore, but a more vulnerable, more human version of herself. However, you knew that this moment of vulnerability was as fleeting as everything else that passed through her mind. She was at your side in this chaotic world you’d created together, but you couldn’t help but feel that the connection being formed was also a cage.

You stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, your mind filled with disjointed thoughts, with the truth you had unleashed. You had confessed everything, every dark corner of your obsession, your fears, your desires, your addiction. You had let it all spill out, and instead of rejecting it, Jinx had accepted it as if it were just another game.

“You see, I told you,” Jinx whispered, slowly sitting up. She approached you, taking your chin with a crooked smile. “What we have is unique. And you know what? I love it.”

Her voice was softer, but her eyes still held the madness she always carried. You looked at her, feeling yourself burn even more, unsure if what you’d been searching for was an escape valve or a chain.

“It’s more than that…” you answered in a broken voice, unable to help yourself. The memories of everything you had done, of the hours spent waiting for her to notice you, flooded your mind like a storm. “It’s not just obsession, Jinx… it’s… I need to have you close all the time. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

Jinx leaned in toward you, her warm breath on your neck, and her red lips left a soft kiss on your skin. You felt the tingling of her touch, but also that persistent sense of emptiness that never went away, that need to keep searching for something more, something you knew you would never find, but couldn’t stop chasing.

“Don’t worry, Sugar Rush. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a playful laugh, but deep down you knew that the chaos in her mind was devouring her too. Just like it was devouring you. Just like it was consuming both of you.

Silence filled the room for a moment, but it wasn’t the silence of peace. It was the silence of two people trapped in a spiral of madness, fed by their own demons. Love, obsession, chaos, all blended into something bigger than either of them.

You lay beside her, feeling how Jinx’s breath intertwined with yours, even though you both knew neither of you would sleep that night. Inside you, everything was chaos. And that chaos, though terrifying, was the only thing keeping you alive.

[sparklingchim]

Darly! Can you write a drabble of when oc is away on a trip, and nabi is fussy (jungkook lowkey fussy too) and they call her on facetime and its all just cute and fluffy and oc comforting nabi and jungkook at the same time 🥰🥰🥰

When Seulgi proposed the idea of a little girls' trip to Jeju Island, you were buzzing with anticipation, and you eagerly packed your bags.

Fast forward to now, and you're staring at the grainy screen of your phone, witnessing two teary, doe-eyed faces looking back at you.

"Hello?" You put on your earphones to drown out the noise from the ocean. Shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand, you ask, half-laughing, half-worried, "Jungkook, are you crying?"

"We both are." He tilts his phone to show you Nabi's exaggerated pout

"Mama!" she shouts, lips quivering.

"My baby," you whine with compassion. Her little cheeks are glistening with tears. Jungkook’s holding her against his chest, her tiny hand gripping his t-shirt.

"She's been doing so well since you left, but today she's missing you extra much," he explains, wiping her tears. "And seeing her upset made me miss you too."

"You're too cute." You giggle. "But you could call more, you know," you tell him, a bit upset yourself. "If you miss me so much."

"Don't wanna disturb you on your vacation," Jungkook says softly. "You deserve some time for yourself. This little girl"—he pans the camera down to show only Nabi's chubby face—"just really needed your attention right now."

"You're happy seeing me, Nabi?" A bright smile blooms on her face. You quickly take a screenshot to add to your endless collection of pictures of Nabi's adorable smiles. "How can I make you happy, Koo?"

Jungkook appears on the screen again. "Tilt your phone a bit down for me?"

A stunned laugh escapes you. "So shameless," you scold. "You'll see on ig later. I took cute pics in this bikini."

Jungkook frowns, nibbling on his lip piercing. "Your boyfriend can't see before your ig followers?"

"Just call me later." Giddiness spreads in your tummy.

"But you're sharing a room with Seulgi."

You blink, confused. "We have separate hotel rooms."

"But I saw her stuff on your bed when you showed me around your room on the first day."

"We like to get ready together. It's more fun that way," you explain.

Jungkook closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've been missing out on this for four days when you two have separate rooms?"

You giggle. "Just call me before you go to sleep, silly."

[wintfleur]

Stella was so excited Rutger got a hatty. She gave him so many kisses.

ꔫ hat tricks and kisses

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )

°. — details ( g; fluff, so much fluff. w; kissing, slight cursing, sex jokes. wc; 1.4K)

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( CAPTAIN RUT HATTY!!! I actually screamed when I saw it! My gallery is literally filled with a ton of screenshots of rut from this interview, HES SO PRETTY?!?! I couldn’t help it. I just had to make this into a blurb, I hope you guys enjoy! Also ty for requesting, PLEASE DON’T BE A SILENT READER 🫶🏻 )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

Stella loved the thrill she felt whenever she watched hockey, especially if someone she loved was out on the rink playing. There was just something so special being present and watching the world juniors. She was there to watch her brothers and friends play the years before, and this year she was watching her boyfriend. It was a well-known thing that Stella was quite the cheerleader in the stands, even if she was surrounded by fans of the opposite team she still would cheer for her team. So, she wasn't going to let a half empty arena stop her from screaming her lungs out for her boyfriend and his team. 

As soon as she saw the puck go into the net she was up on her feet, jumping up and down as she cheered loudly for her boyfriend who just scored his first goal since his injury. Seeing the grin on his face as he celebrated with his teammates only made her cheer louder. When he scored his second goal, she nearly spilled her soda from jumping to her feet so fast, her throat was already hurting from her cheers and her cheeks hurt from all her smiling. 

But she didn't care for the soreness as she cheered her heart out along with the people around her when Rutger scored his hat trick. She had jumped to her feet and cheered loudly, a happy laugh leaving her grinning lips when she saw Rutger point at her from the ice after celebrating with his teammates. Stella giggled shyly and blew him a kiss before sitting back down. Stella was absolutely buzzing for the rest of the game, her smile not leaving her face, she was so proud of her boyfriend and his team. 

Stella just couldn't wait until after the game so she could see him. Seeing that big smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes as he celebrated his goals made her a little emotional as she watched, especially since she knew he was being a little hard on himself for his gameplay. She stood on her feet and clapped as team USA won, and when the game was over, she waited in the stands a little, knowing that they had interviews and things to do after. But after a while she practically skipped to wait outside of the locker room, smiling politely at everyone she passed. 

She leaned against the wall and took her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and started scrolling through her text messages, answering the ones from her parents and siblings who were sending congrats texts to Rutger. “Hey stella” she looked up from her phone when she heard her name, and a smile resurfaces on her lips. Walking up to her was a smiling Frank Nazer and a shy Gabe Perreault following after him. 

“Hey guys! Congratulations on your win” Stella greeted frank with a side hug and a sweet smile to Gabe who she hasn't talked much to. They both thanked her, and Frank couldn't help but chuckle at the few sizes too big McGroarty jersey she was wearing, it obviously was one of ruts. “Forget to pack your own jersey?” frank teases. Gabe just stood next to him awkwardly, a little shy and intimidated to be in Stella Hughes company. 

“Yeah, and rut refused to let me come not wearing his jersey” Stella laughs as she remembered the conversation they had earlier and the cute pout on her boyfriend's lips when he saw her all dressed up without a jersey on. Stella always wore his jersey to his games, Rutger loved knowing that his pretty girl had his last name on her back in the stands. Letting everyone know she is with him. 

“Well don't worry your lover boy should be out soon” Frank teases, the trio say their goodbyes and the two world juniors' players continue to walk away from the locker room. She smiled at Rutgers teammates who left the locker room, most of them saying hi to her. Of course, they knew who she was, how could they not with how much their captain talked about her. Stella scrolled through her phone for another 5 minutes before she heard her name being called by a smiling Seamus, a grinning Rutger following behind him and rushing towards her. 

Stella stops leaning against the wall and before she could congratulate her boyfriend and their friend she was pulled into a big hug and lifted off her feet. Stella giggles and wraps her arms around Rutgers shoulders and nestling her face into his neck “You did so good” she whispered between the soft kisses she placed on his neck. Rutger grins at her words and places a kiss on her temple before pulling his head back to look down at her. 

“You played so well rut, m’so proud” Stella said with her dimpled smile, bringing one of her hands from his shoulder to cup his cheek, the pad of her thumb rubbing his cheek gently as they stared into each other's eyes. Rutger didn't care that there were people around him, all he could focus on was Stella and the happiness he felt. He moved his hands from Stella's waist and brought them up to cup Stella's Rosie cheeks from the cold, and eagerly leaned down to lock her lips into a kiss. 

Stella’s usually not the one for kissing in public but she quickly followed his lead. Her head tilted to the side at how passionate he was kissing her, her other hand moving from his shoulder to his hat to turn it backwards before her hand moved to his nape and softly tugs on his wet hair from his shower. Rutger groans at the feeling and chases after her lips, while one of his hands moves from her cheek and down her back to slide into the back pocket of her jeans and squeezes her ass softly. 

“Poor will’s not gonna get any sleep tonight with you two as his neighbor” Seamus snorts as he watches the couple finally part for air. He wasn't used to seeing the couple so touchy like that in front of others, in front of him. Stella has an embarrassed smile on her red cheeks and hides her face in Rutgers chest, she couldn't believe that she basically just made out with her boyfriend in public…in front of their friend. Rutgers chest shakes with laughter, turning his head to look at Seamus with a playful grin “be a good friend and buy him some earplugs?” 

Seamus laughs and mutters a quick good luck to Stella before patting Rutger on the back and walking away from the couple. Stella lifts her head from her boyfriend's chest and smiles up at him, her eyes were filled with love as her mind replayed that moment of his scoring his hat trick and the smile on his face, she was insanely proud of him. Rutger looks away from his retreating friend and back to his girlfriend, a shy smile on his lips by the way she was staring at him

“What?” 

“I'm just so proud of you” Stella whispered sweetly, leaning up to place a few kisses along his jaw and on his flushed cheeks. Rutgers eyes close at the soft feeling of her kisses, basking in the feeling of her touch and words. He felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders, he had tried his best to stay positive, but he knew before he wasn't playing his best, but today showed him that he still had it. The win, The Hat Trick, was great, but it was even better because Stella was there with him. 

“I love you so much” Rutgers voice is filled with emotion and all he wants to do is take his girlfriend back to their hotel room so he could really show her how much he loves her. Stella smiles and places a few more kisses on his cheek before pecking his lips a few times and whispering against them “I love you most.”

“C’mon let's get out of here” Stella grinned as she grabbed onto Rutgers hand and pulled him away from the locker room. Rutger laces his fingers with hers and picks up his duffle bag from the floor and follows his girlfriend. Rutger looks at Stella's side profile, his eyes lingering on her pink lips “Where too?” 

“To the closest store” Stella tells him as they make their way to the exit of the rink, Stella sees the confused look Rutger gives her and she gives him a teasing smile as she leans closer to him and whispers in his ear with a wink. “To buy will some earplugs of course” Rutger pulls her closer to his side and eagerly pulls her out of the rink and to the cars, his other hand already trying to pull his phone out of his bag to search up directions to the nearest store. 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( they drive me crazy! Confirmed Gabe Perreault has a small crush on Stella! )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[impactrueno]

[i removed the image because it was too large but it was a screenshot of my "board" beetlejuice doodle from a while back] I legit thought this was like a Beetlejuice version of Plank from Ed, Edd, and Eddie.

you have no idea how many "BEETLEPLANK" comments i've gotten on that HAHA i actually didn't even realize when i drew it, somehow

Also, what did you think to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice? I liked it enough, but there was something missing from it, heart, maybe? I loved the idea that Beetlejuice legit thought his plan of using Bob as a decoy to face Delores would work, which to me suggests that he's either too lazy to think of a proper plan or he believes Delores would be stupid enough to fall for it, both of which are in character for him.

hmm of all the flaws the movie had, i wouldn't say beetlejuice beetlejuice lacked heart. in fact, i'd argue it was running on heart alone. i suppose that only makes sense if you've seen the interviews and are familiar with tim burton's career and what he's about, but this was a very personal project to him; i could go on about this but i don't want to ramble too much lol. i remember him and michael saying that they didn't really care if people ended up thinking the movie was garbage, because they absolutely LOVED making it. everyone was so genuinely into it, having so much fun filming, idk the behind the scenes stuff really stands out to me because of how much everyone is smiling and laughing. it almost feels as if the movie was just a cast reunion that they filmed just having fun with it and then deciding to share it with the world afterwards. it feels intimate, idk.

beetlejuice is very special to tim, michael and winona, they've always been protective of it and had a lot of conditions for a potential sequel because they wanted it to be just right. i'm actually surprised whenever i see people call it soulless because it was literally anything but. flawed? absolutely, but i can't find myself to care about those flaws because the fact that it was exactly the way tim wanted it to be is a already interesting enough and worth watching to me. i'm not sure people realize how rare that is with mainstream movies.

Also with Delores, I didn't get why she was made to be a threat? She's a six foot woman who pins people against a wall, chokes them and sucks their souls out. That's not a threat, that's my idea of a good time!

LMAO *beetlejuice voice* y'can say that again 😩😏

[walks-the-ages]

Some important graphs for all the vote-scolds/blue maga blaming third party voters for Kamala Harris losing:

https://projects.fivethirtyeight.com/polls/approval/kamala-harris/

This woman never had her Approval rating rise higher than her Disapproval rating after September 2021.

If Democrats actually wanted to win, they could have stopped committing genocide and actually run a candidate people wanted to vote for.

Instead, they choose a deeply unpopular VP from a deeply unpopular current administration that no one even had a choice in, dumped a few million dollars into her campaign via big corporations to try to make it seem like most Americans were donating large sums of money to her overnight, tried to frame her campaign as being Super Popular and Cheerful and Powerful...... and then made the absolute worst decisions ever by constantly reaffirming literally that she would not do anything fundamentally different than what Biden was doing.

You know, the guy so fucking unpopular he had to drop out of the Presidential race because he was unelectable???

Anyways, I just went through the top #US Election posts in the tag and blocked hmm, maybe 6 people saying "fuck anyone who voted for third party" instead of actually taking a long hard look at their "lesser evil" candidate and it really, really, really is telling how all of these posts:

don't have more than maybe 2k notes compared to a few hundred thousand notes on other posts that don't blame third party voters

the replies are full of actual logical people who care about other people pointing out that third party voters did not make up nearly the margin Harris is currently losing by, and that if Democrats wanted to win, maybe they should have actually tried to win

I can pretty much guarantee you that all of the people making "Fuck third party voters, fuck pro-palestine crowd, are you happy now?" -- I can pretty much guarantee you that if you search these people's blogs for Palestine, that they have literally never interacted with anything to do with it except to vote scold in advance of the election or are full on active zionists who support israel's war crimes.

Anyways, feel free to share these graphs for all the racist assholes, and please make sure you're blocking shithead anons, and especially reporting shithead anons.

If you wanna respond to a shithead publicly, just screenshot it before you report and block.

The people screaming about "those darn jill stein voters!!!"* literally do not give a single fuck about marginalized groups that they, personally, are not a part of, and they are going to bury their head in the sand of the racist, genocidal cesspit they are in to refuse to listen to actual real facts so they can continue to spout their racist, genocidal, fascist victim blaming, not the least of which I've already seen is the infamous "I will laugh when they come to drag you to the concentration camps!"

Like. Hey now, are you sure you're anti-fascist when you say such things gleefully, Liberals? To people who didn't elect your genocidaire in a blue hat because she is part of the people actively committing genocide as we speak?

But yeah, Vote Bluers screaming at third party voters right now are literally just fascists in blue, and they are no one's allies.

Screaming at and wishing death and torture on minorities is what racists fascists do, if they actually wanted to work towards change they would have changed their tunes on the Democrats when it became clear they fully supported a genocide.

Block them, both on the dash and in your inbox. Unfollow the racist shitstains who reblog their posts uncritically. These people are cowards who are happily willing to punch downwards instead of actually stepping up to the plate and working to do good in their communities to bring people together.

Kamala Harris had a 49.% Disapproval rating the night before the election.

Are you telling me you seriously think she could have won?

* fun fact: more people voted for Chase Oliver than Jill Stein in all the states I've looked at that have that data, looks like the 'moderate republicans' are going libertarian, not democrat! Gee, who could have foreseen that? 🙄

Anyways, don't forget your daily clicks:

and if you have money to spare, please consider donating to Karim, one of the folk who were scammed out of their evacuation funds by a white woman in the USA who organized his campaign months ago, and he had not reached his goal after she tried to steal the funds only to get caught and be forced to return the money for a full refund to gofundme, so none of the raised funds went to him and were returned to the original donors, who didn't see his new campaign:

[longing-for-rain]

What's the context as to what's going on exactly?

I assume you mean the people sending me death threats over a fanfictions I wrote (which is like... the 3rd? 4th? time this has happened now), but to summarize:

Ironically, I initially made this blog with the intention to just be very lowkey and post headcanons/silly posts/art and not engage in discourse.

At some point, I got an anon angry at me for mentioning how I viewed some of Aang's behavior towards Katara as toxic masculinity and answered it.

A kataang shipper reblogged the (properly tagged) post to whine at me even more, so I replied back with sources and maybe a little too much humor than she could handle, so she cried that I was a meanie and blocked me.

Had a few more experiences with Zutara haters reblogging my posts, making me increasingly annoyed.

I started writing more Zutara metas and criticizing canon more openly.

My posts got popular, popular enough that angry kataang stans started sharing screenshots of them around on here and Twitter.

I made fun of one particularly insane kataang stan who went on a few of my posts, and even into my DMs to screech at me for being every type of -phobic under the sun because I don't like Aang/Kataang. She still periodically blocks and unblocks me so she can shoot more of her brain vomit my way, and accuses me of harassing her for reposting screenshots of her unhinged comments to laugh at. She also accidentally followed me while trying to send an anon one time (I assume, since those buttons are close together) which was hilarious for someone who claims I bully and stalk her.

Recently, a bunch of kataang shippers got butthurt over a post I made referencing how Katara is drawn differently (it was a response to an Anon mentioning a much older post measuring the size of Katara's eyes and jawline) to make her appear younger during "romantic" moments with Aang. I commented on how I found it a creepy contrast and like how much more natural and human she seems while not with Aang, or with Zuko.

Another whiny brat kataang reblogged the (again, properly tagged) post calling me a pedophile, colonizer, racist, and whatever else his little rotten brain could come up with, and posted (without any trigger/content warnings!) out-of-context screenshots of a fanfiction I wrote exploring themes of sexual violence. This was apparently supposed to be "evidence" that I have a "fetish" or something, which needless to say, is an absolutely disgusting thing to say to a survivor talking about her experiences of sexual abuse, especially when you're a man who has never experienced that.

That brings us to why everyone is discoursing over the fic: Claws of Ice. Keep in mind, the majority of these people haven't read it, don't understand any of the context, and felt it was appropriate to leverage my trauma against me in the name of a ship war. The man in question is still crying about how he's the real victim here because I was apparently too mean to him when I responded to his accusations that I'm a pedophile and that my story of assault is a fetish to him, which is exactly the kind of male entitlement you'd expect.

So yeah! That's why they're all so obsessed with me, and throwing around every possible Bad Person accusation they can think of about me, but I really don't take it too seriously with that in mind. I was very nervous about posting this story in the first place because it was so heavy and personal and I was unsure of putting these themes out there, but the backlash has been oddly reassuring. The two biggest haters are that manbaby I mentioned, and that obsessive stalker who keeps spamming the atla-confessions blog with anons that are very obviously her while pretending she's trying to "calm down" the fandom, neither of whom can seem to formulate a coherent sentence. Like if that is the opposition, pretty sure I'm in the right here.

[ingravinoveritas]

Hi!

Have you seen Georgia's insta story? She's filming david and one of the kids called her a creep

https://instagram.com/stories/georgiatennantofficial/3212913988487468030?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

The only purpose of the video is just showing that even the kids think that her filming david all the time is weird

Like, yeah all of it is probs a joke but it rubs me the wrong way🤔

What's your opinion? Your blog is the 1st place i go to when i see news abt DT, GO or MS

(Grouping together since these are related.)

Hi there! Oh, I hadn't seen Georgia's Insta story until I saw your Ask, so thank you for bringing it to my attention.

A little backstory, for those who haven't seen it: Today was David's panel at NYCC, and he started to tell an anecdote about being given a pair of shoes for Christmas when members of the audience began shouting out telling him to tie his (very pink) shoes that were untied on stage. David actually tied the shoes, and the video of the moment was posted by NYCC on Twitter. An hour or so later, Georgia jumped in with a response and at the same time, posted this story on Insta (and the photo in Georgia's tweet appears to be from the same day that the video was taken):

For my part, I was under the impression that this was not a recent video, so to your question @phantomstars24, I don't think she is actually at NYCC with David. Rather, it looks like Georgia was searching for David's name on Twitter (again) and found a place to jump in with the screenshot and video.

In giving my opinion on this, I have to reference Georgia's Insta story from last month at the festival she and David attended, where she recorded him while he was walking and eating his ice cream:

Here, we see David take notice of the fact that Georgia is recording, after wondering why she was walking so slowly. He turns away for a moment, then looks back at her and says, "It's never gonna stop," and his voice is uncharacteristically...terse. He doesn't smile, or laugh, or give any indication that he is kidding (that I picked up on, at least). David's energy and the video as a whole just seemed off, but like many of Georgia's posts, it was written off as a joke.

The voice we heard of one of Georgia's children in today's video reminded me of that. Leaving aside the fact that this child actually flat-out called Georgia a "creep" (for which I'm also hard-pressed to find some alternate/jokey meaning) for recording David, the theme in both of these videos is Georgia constantly recording David for the sake of having content. And as we saw with today's Insta story, her then saving that content to use at a later date. I know the people who hate-read my blog will insist that Georgia gets permission from David before posting anything on social media and that he's fine with it, but it is really hard to think that he seems fine in the video from the festival. And how okay would any of us be if our partner constantly took video of us not to make cute memories, but so they can use it to prove a point later on?

As I've said before, all we get is this little slice of their lives that Georgia shares on social media. But increasingly, those little slices are starting to look like moments that might have been better left unrecorded/not posted to social media. To hear Georgia's own child call her out like that was jarring, but it also made me wonder how much they do see/what they think of what they are seeing. Even now it says something that they're already aware of her social media use and the lengths she is going to for content. (For that matter, I wonder what they will think in the future, such as if/when Birdie sees Georgia's Insta post calling her a "drunken accident"...)

Again, this could easily all be chalked up to me just missing whatever the joke/dry humor is here, but these were the impressions I had from seeing Georgia's content today. Happy as always to hear what others think, however, so feel free to chime in on this post...

[joethehoeee]

Rise of titans actually made me laugh for so stupid reasons and I wanted to share this with you.

It's insane honestly.

THE PURE LOOK OF HORROR IN STRICKLER'S FACE WHEN JIM FALLS TO HIS DEATH AND THEN-

Barb is like 😯

Mrs. Lake, your son is falling to a cruel and unimaginably painful death and THAT is your reaction? Even you won't be able to fix him up after that, even if you are a good doctor.

Strickler looks so desprately fearful as if it is the worst thing he could ever imagine (it may be) and Barb is like "oh, well, surprised he made it this far"

GIRL THAT’S YOUR SON!!!!! YOUR S-O-N!!!

Where did the worried mother from 3 damn seasons go? Why is she not here.

And before you ask, this is not just an unconventional screenshot, it's the whole shot. (as far as I remember, tbh I refuse to rewatch it more than once)

Like real talk, this is so funny to me.

The difference is insane...(I should stop using that word...but I don't know anything else)

Walter could be used for memes tbh.

I BEG YOU ALL. Make memes as much as you can. Unrelated or related to trollhunters. That would be so funny !!! We need to take over the fandom!

[misc-obeyme]

You know what time it is.

Lesson 33 spoilers, including the hard lesson, here we go!

I am pleased. And I am not pleased.

I had so many great moments with all my faves. Solomon being there for me, Levi being a lil cutie, THIRTEEN DATE, Barbatos giving me lil Ds. What glorious moments. I shall share some screenshots momentarily.

BUT FIRST.

Belphie. What the fuck.

Technically, this is Mammon’s fault. He was the one who was like it’s not wrong to feel upset about it and like yeah he’s right, but Belphie is clearly taking that statement to an EXTREME.

We are dealing with YANDERE BELPHIE, my friends.

If I remember correctly, he was always supposed to be yandere. So now we’re really leaning into that, huh? Like straight up, I am going to keep you here forever because you’ll be happier with me than if you leave. Our boy’s gone a little off the deep end lol. I kinda love it.

Though I was really surprised by his final line of “I don’t want you to see what’s inside my head.” He seemed really concerned about it. Considering all we’ve seen already, it can’t be that bad, right? Then again, I wouldn’t want anyone I know to get inside my head, either. Please stay out, you don’t need to see the horrors, thanks.

Also, we still haven’t made a pact with Levi. Just like we didn’t actually make a pact with Beel. Is it because now they’re not sure they want to have pacts with us because of the whole needing magic to get back to the human world thing? I swear I have a memory of Solomon telling us that we could make pacts with all of the brothers at the same time. But we already have pacts with three of them? So why would we only make pacts with three or four of them at the same time? I’m so confused. Someone please share your thoughts with me on this because I don’t get it???

I really feel like they directly addressed some of the concerns we’ve all been having in this lesson, too. I mean Solomon straight up talks about wondering what the brothers we left behind are doing. Or if time is still going there or if we’ll end up exactly where we left etc etc. HOWEVER all that soup talk makes me think they are just going to mesh it all together. ‘Cause Solomon also said this:

What does that mean? How can the future brothers influence what’s happening in the past? Unless their memories are changing in real time… ugh why did they have to go with time travel shenanigans?? Don’t they know this junk hurts my brain??

Anyway, now it’s time for some of my favorite moments, enough about time travel and feelings and pacts!

Because my favorite sorcerer also said this. And I know there are some questions about his motives and blah blah but I don’t care. I love him. He’ll be all serious, then say something sweet and reassuring, then do something crazy or try to cook again… he’s got so many sides to him lol.

STOP MAKING ME LIKE YOU MEPHISTOPHELES. (Please you were like the last character I was neutral about I can’t afford to get obsessed with anyone else.)

Honestly, I laughed so hard when he said this. Mammon just called him out directly and he LAUGHED. He laughed and was like yeah duh of course, idiots. And look how pleased he is about it, too.

May I bring your attention to my baby Levi? Look at this silly guy. I was so happy I got to hug him. And the group hug was adorable, too. Satan protesting the whole time lol. Lucifer coming in and being like… I regret asking.

I swear sometimes I wanna kiss this guy JUST to watch him blush. It’s so freakin’ cute.

Smitten. I am smitten.

The way she’s like I don’t get why you like these weirdos, but I know they matter to you. Don’t worry, it’s going to work out. How she gets all defensive of MC. Her cute little smile. The way she suggests coming to visit MC in the human world & saying that Solomon can come too?! LIKE. I love her so much.

HE KNOWS.

Listen I was thrilled about this whole part - Barbatos being mysterious and giving me a weird piece of paper and a Little D? Yes forever. But also I think we’ve all suspected him of knowing the truth and this part right here just solidifies that for me. He definitely knows. He knows everything about what’s going on. I don’t think that means he’s Nightbringer or even that he’s working with Nightbringer. He could just know because he’s got access to all of time and what not. But either way, he knows.

Honestly I love Barbatos so much. Just the small parts we had with him were enough to get me in my feels. I also really enjoyed the hard lesson because even if Luke doesn’t know what’s going on, I think Simeon does. And their discussion was interesting.

So I’m gonna leave you with one last Barb moment.

I’m so impatient is it the end of the season yet?? I wanna know how it ends right NOW.

[mikachacha]

Hello, May I please request Bada x idol fem reader? Where they've been together and moved in together for years in secret with only their closest friends and family knowing but they end up accidentally revealing their relationship when one of them does a vlive or an suggestive instagram post?

Caught (Bada Lee x Idol! Reader)

Synopsis: You accidentally revealed your long term relationship with Bada because of a vlive.

TW: mentions of homophobia, some foul language here and there. Minors, please dni.

A/N: this is such a cute prompt i love ittttt hoe era is temporarily cancelled 🫶

You've been in a relationship with Bada even before you debuted as an idol. As much as you wanted to show her off and climb her up like a tree in front of everyone, you can't. Because you're not supposed to be dating anyone and that people are so homophobic and they're not ready for your gayness reserved for your beautiful girlfriend.

"Babe can you please stay in the living room for maybe an hour? I need to do a vlive." you pouted as you looked at your girlfriend who was reading a book in your shared bed. She playfully rolled her eyes at your request but got up nonetheless. She gave you a quick kiss before pinching your cheeks.

"Babe we've been together for what, five years now? And you're still not ashamed of me? I'm hurt!" Bada says dramatically which made you pout even more. She chuckles and kisses you. You've been together for almost 5 years and she understands why you can't go public with your relationship since you're an idol and you'd be in trouble with your company if they found out you're dating each other.

"Stop ittttt. You're so mean." you complained and she just laughed, fixing your hair before going to the living room so you can do your vlive in peace.

You did your usual vlive routine, doing a mini mukbang with the snacks stash you have in your shared room with Bada and answering some questions from your fans. You move around a lot during your live and you forgot that there's a picture of you and Bada kissing, framed on the nightstand that you forgot to hide. You only realized that huge blunder when the fans began commenting about the picture.

Panicked, you quickly ended the vlive and ran to Bada, tears welling in your eyes as you hugged her tight. Bada was confused. It's not even 30 minutes but you're already done with your vlive and you look like you're about to cry.

"Baby what's wrong? Was someone being mean to you?" Bada asked, concerned and you just shook your head. She just held you, stroking your hair until you finally calmed down enough to tell her what's really going on. When you told her, Bada could feel her heart pounding against her chest. Yeah, she wants everyone to know that you're hers but not like this. She's more than okay with your current set up that only your families knew along with some close friends about your relationship but now almost everyone knows about it.

"Shit.. I'm sorry.. I should've checked first." you sobbed and Bada pressed kisses all over your face, assuring you that it's okay and you don't have to say sorry about it.

"Hey, hey it's okay. You don't have to say sorry, pretty baby.." She whispers and holds you in her arms. You wipe your tears away and open your phone. Sure enough, everyone's talking about the framed picture, there are screenshots as well taken from your vlive earlier.

You look up at your girlfriend and give her hand a gentle squeeze. Everyone knows about your relationship with her at this point. Why not come clean about everything, right? Your fans deserve to know and you didn't want to hide your love for Bada anymore.

"Baby, let's come clean? I think the fans deserve an explanation and I don't want to hide us anymore." you told her and Bada looked at you, wanting to make sure that you really wanted this, not just because you're pressured into doing so.

"Are you sure? Babe, you don't have to do this." Bada says and you nod your head, giving her a smile. She sighed and finally agreed. You took pictures together and you posted them, along with some pictures of you and Bada throughout the years you've been together and finally admitting your relationship.

With the official announcement from you, some fans were disappointed and some people were outraged. Some hurled homophobic slurs towards you and Bada, you were forced to go on hiatus until everything calms down. You should've felt sad about everything but you oddly felt happy because you didn't have to hide your love anymore. Your family and friends support you and Bada loves you, that's all that matters to you at this point. You could have the whole world turn their back on you but as long as Bada is there, then that's okay.

[toxic3mmy]

Holaa, perdón por no mandarla antes pero andaba ocupada con tareas. Bueno mi idea era que el lector se enferma cuando Quackity esta de viaje en México y se lo intenta ocultar, tipo cuando el la llama ella pretende andar bien cuando no, solo para no preocuparlo pero al final el se entera.

me encanta la idea! gracias por el request!!

prompt: alex finds out that you’re sick while he’s in mexico

lovey dovey, sweet alex bf, you’re feeling sickly, fluff

no warnings, all fluff!!!

________________________________________

it was christmas time. the weather was very cold and it made you feel even more alone. your boyfriend alex was in mexico for the holidays. you were home alone, left to deal with a terrible cold.

it was the second week since alex left and you woke up in a cold sweat. your head was spinning and you felt the worst you’ve ever felt. you grab the thermometer on your bedside table and stick it in your mouth. as you wait for the beep, your body starts shaking and you realize you definitely aren’t okay.

“103.6…. wow, that’s too high” you whisper to yourself

at that same moment, your phone was ringing and you saw it was alex facetiming you. you quickly flatten your messy hair and wipe your sweaty face before answering.

“hi my love… how are you?”

you smile at his voice and respond in a slightly raspy manner,

“hi alex… im fine, i just miss you a lot”

“y/n are you sure you’re okay? you sound like you’re sick.. do i need to come home early? i hate that you’re alone and you seem super sick or—”

“no! um… no im fine! i just woke up so it’s probably why my voice is so raspy. don’t ruin your holiday for me, please? i know how much you love to be in mexico with your family for christmas and new years… i just want you to have fun okay?”

after a few silent moments he finally responds,

“yeah… okay y/n. but i swear to god you better not be lying to me about being sick or i swear…”

“you’ll what? fly back this very instant? haha, very funny” you tease

“oh just you wait chiquita, you won’t be laughing when im… never mind. anyways, i hope you’re doing well and i seriously miss your carita linda y/n. i have to go now but, te extraño tanto”

“i love you… take care baby”

and at that moment, alex noticed something in the corner of the facetime. he saw a bunch of used tissues, mugs with tea, and your thermometer on your bedside table. before the two of you hung up, alex quickly screenshot the facetime and said goodbye.

he looked closer at the image and saw there were medicines there, too. the thermometer, although unreadable from this angle, glowed a red light on the screen indicating that the temperature was feverish. alex was more than worried. as he explained the situation to his family, they all agreed that he should go home to tend to his beloved girlfriend.

back at home, y/n was getting worse. you struggled to sleep because of how badly your lungs were hurting and filling with nasty phlegm. your fever hadn’t gone down one bit. damn those cheap fever pills.

you had planned on showering but you need to work up the energy and so you took a long needed nap.

at the same time, alex had already hopped on a plane and was just about to land in california. he caught an uber to the nearest grocery store and collected everything he needed to help you. he quietly walked into your shared home and heard you lightly snoring from your bedroom.

he got to work immediately. he made the best mexican caldo de pollo con arroz that he could, just like his mother taught him. after a bit, he heard you getting up and assumed you were going to shower and so he continued to cook.

you were feeling absolutely awful now but you figured maybe a shower will do the trick. you stepped into the shower and the hot water felt very soothing. suddenly, you began to feel very lightheaded and see darkness creeping in from your peripheral vision. you saw black all at once.

alex heard a loud thud and quickly ran up to your restroom to see y/n unconscious and passed out in the shower.

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck… y/n please! im here, please wake up amor” alex hurriedly changed the water to cold and began to splash you awake. you saw black and then a flash of bright light came over you as you heard the most angelic voice ever.

“alexis?” you whispered in a confused manner

“oh my god y/n! im so so sorry i left you. you passed out and it scared me and i—“

“what are you doing here? you were just in mexico this morning..”

“mi amor,” he began as he wrapped my body in a blanket and ran the bath so i could get clean, “i saw all those things on your bedside table when i called you earlier and the moment i saw that red thermometer, i knew you weren’t okay”

you were in shock, you felt so many emotions and couldn’t even get one word out

“come here baby, sit in the tub and i’ll get your clothes ready okay?”

you nodded and sat in the warm bubbly tub. it felt nice and you didn’t have to waste your energy standing up. alex laid out some comfortable clothes for when you finished and he returned to the bathroom.

“close your eyes mi princesa” you obliged and felt alex scrubbing your long hair with shampoo.

you felt so relaxed and so grateful for your sweet boyfriend. you were too tired to say or do much so you let him bathe you. he soon helped you out of the bath and into some warm and comfortable clothes. he laid you in bed and left for a few minutes.

you closed your eyes and began to drift off into sleep. you woke up when you heard alex come back. he had a little table set up with some soup, a warm tea, and some medicine.

“i’m not upset with you okay? i just wish you had told me you weren’t feeling well… i mean, what would have happened if i weren’t here when you passed out in the shower? i just want you to be okay y/n.. so please, just let me take care of you okay?”

all you could do was nod and alex began to give you medicine for your fever and body pain. then he slowly started to feed you warm soup. it was very delicious. he also helped you drink your warm tea.

“alex… thank you so much for everything. im sorry i decided not to tell you but im really glad that you’re here with me. i feel better already”

alex smiled and continued to feed you. soon he helped you lay down and he tucked you in. he played some background noise and gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“te amo y/n… im sorry youre not feeling well… i hope you get better soon mi amor”

and with that, you fall asleep soundly.

[theoneprecioustome]

Old Interviews

A couple of years ago, I came across a compilation of interviews, including some that shared some very interesting info about Aigis' role in the game and the reasons why she didn't have a S-Link in the original Persona 3. I didn't trust my Japanese enough to capture all the nuance though, so the screenshots have been sitting in my folders collecting dust.

Well, no more! We now luckily have a professional Japanese translator in the Aikoto Server, and she has kindly gone ahead and translated the interviews in question. Thank you so much, kitaroai!

Interviews below the cut!

Dengeki PlayStation September 8, 2006 issue Vol.364 "Persona 3" Development Staff Interview

Dengeki PlayStation: I got the impression that Aigis was the main heroine of this work. What made you decide on having a robot girl as the game’s main heroine?

Tanaka (Writer): While I didn’t particularly set out to write her as one would a “main heroine”, we felt that a character who is unaffected by death was essential to a story with “Death” as its theme. In order to explore that theme, it was crucial to depict the process of an existence that starts-off not understanding the meaning of “death”, only to eventually come to face it and acknowledge it.

Soejima (Character Designer): When it comes “heroines”, the game has a system that allows you to date various girls… But personally, I feel that Yukari is a girl that is nearby, while Aigis is the heroine of the main story, or to be more exact, a character that is at the very core of it.

Dengeki PlayStation: So rather than a “heroine”, she could be considered another protagonist?

Hashino (Director): Yes… Aigis is special. She was necessary to depict the story we wanted to tell.

Dengeki PlayStation: I imagine that she is the only female character without a Social Link precisely because she is the one at the heart of the story.

Tanaka: Indeed. It wouldn’t be realistic to say that you can experience love with a robot partner in the exact same way you would with a human, but above all, we feared that giving her a Social Link would make her special role in the story seem less important.

Hashino: She was going to have a Social Link at first and we prepared the scenario for it, but we ultimately decided not to include it.

Dengeki PlayStation: And what about an ending that's influenced by the relationships built in the Social Links? For example, did you ever consider having character-exclusive endings?

Hashino: The staff discussed having character-exclusive endings depending on which Social Links the player did. However, we ultimately decided not to do so because it would take us away from the main story and from what we truly wanted to depict. The relationships with the girls reach their own conclusions in the daily school life section, which is separate from the main story.

Translation by: kitaroai

Material/Dengeki PlayStation July 28, 2006 issue Vol.359 "Persona 3" Interview with Katsura Hashino and Shigenori Soejima

Hashino: Aigis, on the other hand, is a character we added from the very beginning. Since she is a robot, she lacks “feelings”, so we wanted to contrast that with the Protagonist’s emotional side. She was also an indispensable character because she has no fear of “Death”, the main theme of this work.

Soejima: The setting of the story came before the concept, I believe. I remember I started drawing without knowing the story nor its stakes, which was a struggle.

Hashino: […] At first, Soejima seemed to be against the idea of a robot girl, but after convincing him that it was necessary precisely because Aigis is the heroine, it somehow worked out. Was that why you designed her with her machinery exposed?

Soejima: No, it’s not as if I drew her like that as a form of revenge (laughs). I just wanted her design to have more of a nostalgic vibe rather than a high-tech one. My tastes also played a part in it, though (laughs).

Translation by: kitaroai

Plus! One cute extra, this time translated by me:

Materials/Dengeki Maou September 2008 issue supplement “Persona 4” Katsura Hashino, Shigenori Soejima, Kazuhisa Wada Interview

[...]

Soejima (Character Designer): By the way, when it comes to Persona 3, I only worked directly on the one scene where we see Aigis for the first time during the trip to Yakushima.

Dengeki Maou: Do you mean that was the scene you were most particular about?

Soejima: Since that is the scene where we see Aigis for the first time, the Director, Hashino, asked me to make it as cute as possible (Laughs).

Translation by: @theoneprecioustome