#i had good intentions when i said i'd do them... i promise.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

hello my cuties, you may now rejoice, the masterposts are now all up to date! :) sorry it took me so long to get around to it. but it is supremely boring lol

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Their Princess

Mob bosses!Wandanat x Carol, Valkyrie, and Kate x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dom/sub dynamics, R refers to Wanda and Natasha as Mommy and Daddy, Overstimulation, polyamory, slight exhibitionism, training/conditioning(implied), objectification, jealousy/envy, orgasm control, aftercare

Authors notes: Fuck I've never written anything like this before and I struggled a bit with it. Thank you @scarlethexelove for helping me figure out what I'd be doing with everyone and how to end it.

You loved being their princess. 

Wanda and Natasha, the powerful mob bosses who run the city with elegance and terror, have a soft spot for you. They made it clear that you're their favorite plaything, cherished and protected. Their desire for you is known to all in their inner circle, and when they’re off handling serious business, they make sure you’re well taken care of—especially during meetings that might take longer than expected.

Today was no different. The luxurious house, well practically a mansion, where they housed you was immaculate, all sleek marble, soft rugs, and leather furniture, everything pristine as a reflection of their control over the world outside. 

You had the place to yourself for the most part, but not entirely. Wanda and Natasha left you in the care of three members of their trusted circle: Carol, Val, and Kate.

While you had been left in their hands for protection, it quickly became apparent they had other things in mind.

Carol leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed, her short blonde hair mussed up in that effortless way, the corner of her mouth curled in amusement as she watched you. 

Val lounged casually in a nearby chair, swirling a glass of bourbon, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. Kate, meanwhile, sat beside you on the couch, her posture deceptively relaxed. But you could feel the tension brewing between them.

“So,” Carol said, breaking the silence, “how do you feel about killing time with us until our two bosses come back?” Her eyes raked over you slowly taking in the little outfit Wanda had decided today. A short plaid skirt, a tight low cut top, and a pair of cute slip-on sneakers.

You shifted under their gazes, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. There was no mistaking their intent. They had been instructed to watch over you, but they clearly had other plans.

Val set her glass down and leaned forward, her smirk widening. “I’d say we’re more than capable of keeping you occupied,” she purred, her voice low and teasing.

Kate’s hand moved to your thigh, her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin. Your legs instinctively opened, making you bite the inside of your lip. “What do you think?” she asked, her voice playful. “They won’t be back for a while.”

You swallowed, glancing nervously between the three of them. You knew Wanda and Natasha were possessive. You were their favorite, after all. But a part of you couldn’t deny the excitement rushing through your veins.

Val noticed your hesitation and chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling. We won’t tell if you don’t.”

Carol’s smirk deepened as she pushed off the doorframe, moving to join you on the couch, sitting on your other side. “They’ll understand,” she murmured, her fingers brushing your cheek, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. “You’re theirs, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun while they’re gone.”

Kate, already leaning close, pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, her lips warm against your skin. “We’ll take good care of you,” she whispered.

The combination of their closeness and the promises in their eyes made your pulse quicken. Carol’s grip on your chin tightened slightly as her gaze darkened, while Val’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched, clearly enjoying your predicament. Kate’s fingers slid higher up your thigh, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through you.

“I wonder who’s going to leave the most memorable impression,” Val mused with a sly smile, standing up and circling the couch, her eyes never leaving you. “Or maybe it’ll be a little of all of us.”

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as Carol leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “We’re going to have so much fun, sweetheart.”

Kate's hand finally found its spot over your panties, rubbing tight circles against you and pulling a moan out of your lips. Your head lulled back and went to the side as Carol’s lips moved up your neck. Val’s hands found your chest. Pinching your nipples making more moans spill out your lips.

Just as the tension between all of you reached its peak, the sound of the penthouse door unlocking echoed through the room. All eyes snapped toward the entrance, where Wanda and Natasha stepped inside, looking as imposing as ever.

Wanda’s sea-glass eyes swept over the scene, taking in the way you were surrounded by their trusted companions. Natasha’s deep green gaze narrowed slightly as her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Seems like we’re interrupting,” Natasha remarked, her voice smooth but dangerous.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. “We leave for one meeting, and you all start without us?”

The three women quickly backed off, looking both amused and a little apprehensive under the gazes of the mob bosses.

Wanda approached you first, cupping your cheek with a possessive touch. “Did they behave themselves?” she asked softly, but the glint in her eyes warned that she already knew the answer.

Natasha came to stand behind you, her hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing them gently. “Don’t worry, printsessa. You’re still ours,” she whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Natasha looks at the three of them before moving over to the loveseat. Letting her muscular arm rest along the back, you felt yourself throb seeing her veins. 

“Go on you three. Show us what you can do.” Tasha speaks as she motions Wanda to come sit with her. 

Carol was the first to move, pulling out her strap as she lifted you. She sat herself down and then you on her lap, letting you slowly sink down onto her cock.

She had you facing outward. Seeing Wanda and Natasha watch you like their favorite movie while Kate came back over. Moving between your legs and letting her lips wrap around your clit; sucking, making you moan out and your head lull back before Val is grabbing your face and guiding you to her strap. 

You let your lips wrap around the faux cock just as you do with Wanda and Tasha. Moans and whimpers come out of you.

Build up after build up happens, but you know there won't be a release not from these three. You're fuzzy and your vision is a little blurry as you look at Mommy. 

Wanda is giving you a faux pout, "Go on detka, say it." And you whine out  

"I need Mommy and Daddy to cum!" You cry out. You're overstimulated by all the build up. You knew they'd been training you, but you never thought it would actually work. 

"Stop." Natasha demands of the others. They all immediately stop what they are doing. 

"Let us show you three how it's really done." Wanda walks to you.  

You're already all hazy and needy, so you're reaching out for Wanda, and she picks you up right out of Carol’s lap. You can feel her strap and Nat comes up behind you, whispering in your ear, "You need Mommy and Daddy? How about you ride Mommy while Daddy fucks you in the ass?"

All you can do is let out a high-pitched whine and nuzzle into Wanda. 

"Those aren't words princess." Tasha whispers in your ear.

"Please let me ride Mommy while Daddy fucks my ass..." You whine out and the two mob bosses smirk at each other. 

"Good girl." Wanda kisses your head. Taking the both of you to the couch. She positions herself, laying down with you hovering over her strap. Nat climbs up behind you. 

Nat pushes inside of you first and you practically cum just from that. Then Wanda is pulling you down onto her. You're already trembling from them filling you up.

It's all overwhelming but not enough at the same time. You just desperately need them. 

"Pl-please... Mommy, Daddy, need you." You whine out. 

"Oh our poor girl just needs to be used. Doesn't she?" Wanda asks and you nod frantically. 

"Yes Mommy please need you both to use me." And the two of them don't hesitate on their thrusts. Fucking you brainless. You end up losing track of how many times you've cum before both of them empty into you. 

You collapse onto Wanda as Nat pulls out to go clean up and grab something for you two. You blink a few times and see the other three girls, naked and looking just as blissed out as you. You'd completely forgotten they were there watching.

Wanda runs her fingers up and down your spine. To sooth you as you nuzzle into her chest. She kisses your head. "Such a good girl for Mommy and Daddy. Such a good toy." She mumbles against your head. 

It sends a shiver through you. She'd do it every time to ground you back down. You smile and close your eyes. Wanda looked over at the other three girls. "See that's how you make her cum. Though it was a losing game you were playing. We trained her months ago only to cum for us, by us." 

The girls all let out a groan as they lay in a mess of tangled limbs. You let out a little whine, nuzzling and hiding your face against Wanda. She chuckles and shushes you.  

Natasha walks back in with bottles of water and some snacks. 

"Come on all of you, water, snacks, time for some aftercare." Luckily for everyone the couch was enormous and though you wanted to stay with Wanda you lean up and whisper in her ear, 

"Can I snuggle with Kate?" Wanda furrows her brow a moment, but then she notices the slightly hurt expression on Kate's face as Val and Carol get comfy together. 

"Go on princess. I've got Tasha." You smile and kiss her before grabbing a blanket and Kate's hand. She's taken by surprise as you pull the two of you over to the chaise and get comfy. 

Everyone gets comfy as light flickers from the fireplace and Wanda puts on one of her favorite sitcoms. 

You nuzzle into Kate as you slowly drift in and out of sleep. The room is peaceful, with everyone comfortable and snuggled up. 

Everyone slowly drifted off to sleep. The last thing on your mind being, it was worth catching Wanda's eyes at the diner that day.

[skzstannie]

"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for coming to dinner with my ex and his new GF uninvited?

This situation is long and messy, so I'll try to include the relevant info only. I (F32) broke up with my long time partner (M33) right before COVID hit. We stayed in the same house during lockdown and continued to live together after lockdown was lifted, because we generally get along and we had a child (F11) to raise together. Over the last 3 years we've been roommates and co-parents and that's it.

One day he was supposed to take our daughter to buy new school clothes, and she came back 10 minutes later in tears. She said they were on their way to the store when his new GF called, and he drove her back home and dropped her off so he could go spend time with her. He even asked our daughter to lie to me for him, but she was tired of covering for him (implying she'd been lying for him for a while now).

When he got home we had a massive argument. I didn't care if he dated other girls, I cared that for some reason he thought he had to sneak around, and it made him act like a jerk to me and our daughter. I told him if he had been a man about this new girl and just introduced me to her then maybe we could have all been friends, but instead he had to act like a horny teenager. It ended with him moving out to live with his parents.

A couple days later he called and apologized. He said he hoped it wasn't too late for him to do things right, and he hopes we can all be friends. I was hopeful that we could finally co-parent in peace for the sake of our child.

This is where I may be TA: I have always been close with my ex's parents, to the point where even after we broke up I would be invited over regularly for dinner. They said even if I wasn't their son's partner I'm still their grandchild's mother, and that makes me family.

So one day when my daughter texts me while at my ex's parent's house and invites me to dinner because they're having my favorite meal, I don't think twice about coming over even though my ex and his GF I've never met now live there. I figured everyone had to be okay with it, since my daughter was inviting me.

I end up having dinner with my ex's parents and daughter, but my ex only comes upstairs to grab two plates of food and goes back downstairs. I ask my ex's mom why and she says his GF doesn't feel well today. Whatever, I think. She's just sick and I'll meet her another day. I have a perfectly pleasant dinner with my ex in-laws, help clean up, and make a promise to bring them a coconut cake (ex father-in-law's favorite) and take my daughter home.

Later my ex blows up my phone with texts and calls, saying it was so weird and rude that I came over for dinner uninvited. That I made his new GF uncomfortable, and like she wasn't welcome there. And that I caused trouble in their relationship because she assumes we must still be in love for me to come over and see his parents out of the blue like that, because "exes don't do that. it's creepy."

I had a talk with my daughter and asked her calmly if she had asked everyone else if it was ok if I come over before she texted me, and she sheepishly said she didn't know she had to ask since it had never been a problem before. (I didn't tell her about her dad's meltdown at me, or tell her dad that she's the one who invited me. She's a child and shouldn't be involved)

Instead I just told him I'm sorry me dropping by made things awkward, but I thought he wanted us all to be friends from now on and I figured this was a good place to start being friends. He said there was no way she'd want to be my friend now that I made her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

It wasn't my intention to make anyone uncomfortable, but I admit I'd be perturbed if he brought this woman into MY home and I had not even been warned first. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 2

Part 1, Part 3

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)

Word Count: 3.0K

How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march?  It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s. 

What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep. 

So why did you feel so guilty? 

Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face. 

With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.

A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.

“The door is open, darling.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance. 

With a breath, you opened the door. 

Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window. 

Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun. 

For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself. 

Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed. 

Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.

“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked. 

Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say. 

“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing. 

You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”

You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”

He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show. 

Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign. 

Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now. 

He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours. 

“That was…quite a performance,” he said. 

You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell. 

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly. 

He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”

His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist. 

A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.

“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued. 

You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere. 

“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”

You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it. 

“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them. 

He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm. 

“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.” 

Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek. 

Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause. 

“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”

Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”

“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”

The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”

“Then allow me to show you.” 

Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay. 

You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.  

He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction. 

You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing. 

Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. 

He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. 

You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was. 

A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you. 

His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you. 

Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.  

His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw. 

“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.” 

His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally. 

This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. 

His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt. 

The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different? 

“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself. 

To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?” 

You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry.  Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.” 

His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away. 

Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.

With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you managed. 

“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.” 

Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”

His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features. 

“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly. 

The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”

“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.” 

You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.” 

He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”

“No.”

“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush. 

“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.” 

“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted. 

“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.

To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know. 

You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now. 

“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”

You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”

He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”

You shrugged. 

“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly. 

“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”

He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line. 

“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”

“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”

You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked. 

“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.” 

You took a breath, willing yourself to calm. 

“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.” 

He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time. 

“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?” 

You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow. 

“What?” he prompted, sharply. 

You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

He gave you an incredulous look. 

Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand. 

He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded. 

You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes. 

“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”

He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.

“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”

“You don’t?”

You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly.

You gave him a doubtful look. 

He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”

“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.” 

You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself. 

You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.

A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true. 

You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment. 

“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.” 

You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer. 

You didn’t reach for it, not this time.  It already burned too much. 

Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.

Tag List:

@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine taking Rayleigh and Shakky out on a date

This is part 2 of this post

Rayleigh: so you want to take us out on a pretend date to spite your first mate and captain for bullying you?

Reader: I know how it sounds, but I figured it'd be a good way to get back at them.

Shakky: While I'm all for helping you get revenge, I don't understand your logic.

You: well, Rayleigh is Shanks's father figure.

Rayleigh: That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose I'm the closest thing he's got.

You: And while I know you two have an open relationship, I thought fucking my captain's father figure would be crossing a line.

Shakky: probably a wise move.

You: And I wanted you to go on a fake date with you, Shakky because Benn has had a crush on you for years, but has been too nervous to ask you out on a date.

Rayleigh: so a date, with both of us, would be two birds with one stone.

Shakky: Oh, I know about his little crush, his poker face is terrible

You: I know, right? I saw him in here earlier, looking at you, he was about as subtle as a sea train.

Rayleigh: *turns to his wife,* What do you think?

Shakky: I dunno.

You: I'll pay for dinner.

Shakky: Deal.

Rayleigh: Pick us up at six thirty tonight.

That night during dinner

Rayleigh: *drinking straight from the wine bottle you ordered*, So how's the brat supposed to know you took us on a date?

You: Well, he planned on dining here at seven, so by the time our food arrives, he should be here. But you know him, he's not good at sticking to plans. If he doesn't come, we could take a picture as a backup plan.

Shakky: Sounds like a plan, in the meantime, we should have a proper date.

Rayleigh: yes, tell us about yourself.

An hour later

You: And Shanks, buck ass naked, slips on the wet rocks, falls, and smacks against the surface of the water!

Shanks: (y/n)?

You: *looks over to notice Shanks and his inner circle gawking at you*

Rayleigh: hey sport

Shanks: what's going on here?

Shakky: what does it look like? We're having a date with this little cutie. *wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder, giving a pointed smirk at Benn*

Rayleigh: *puts his arm around both you and Shakky and pulls you into his side,* They were just telling us about your skinny sipping mishap on Koala Island.

Shanks: No

You: yep

Benn: *glaring daggers at you,* You little shit, how long has this been going on?

You: Not long, this is the first date.

Shanks: Is this because of what we said two weeks ago?

You: a little

Shanks: *pouts,* We were just teasing.

Shakky: You're interrupting our date, it's quite rude.

Shanks: Fine, enjoy your evening.

Later

Shanks: *alone, passed out drunk on his table*

Rayleigh: *sighs* this boy I swear.

Shakky: Want to ditch him with our tab?

You: Yeah, but we're not gonna leave him without the cash, *pulls out his wallet and puts the Berry you brought along inside before sliding it back into his pocket*

The next day on the Red Force

You: *walks onto the ship only for everyone to stare at you*

Benn: You have some explaining to do.

Shanks: *bursts out of his cabin,* Did you fuck them?

You: no, I thought that'd be crossing a line.

Shanks: then where did you stay last night?

You: In their guest room, I helped Shakky open this morning because Rayleigh had wandered off after our date... Look, it wasn't a real date, Boss, I was upfront with them about my intentions.

Shanks: We didn't bully you.

You: It certainly felt like it to me, and when I voiced that hurt, you didn't apologize, and basically told me to stop sulking. So I wanted you to know how it felt, so I asked Rayleigh and Shakky to help me get back at you for bullying me.

Shanks: I see, *reflects on his behavior for a moment* I'm sorry we teased you, it was supposed to be a joke but ended up hurting your feelings.

You: Apology accepted.

Shanks: Now, please never date any of my former crew mates from my time with Roger.

You: I promise I won't knowingly date any of them.

Shanks: I don't like the way you phrased that, but fine, I guess.

Benn: Now that that's done, tell me how in the hell you got Shakky to go on a date with you.

You: Again, it was a fake date, but I simply asked.

Benn: I was afraid you were gonna say that.

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Please, mum, may we have some Science Experiment & Jason? We promise we’ll be good!

Jason stared at his cup of coffee and took a deep breath, patently unsure how to ask what he wanted to ask. Or who to ask.

He had a lot of questions. And he wasn't- he didn't- well. While he wasn't exactly disappointed with the way things had gone the night before he just didn't want to hurt you.

And it was a little humiliating that he didn't know what to do. Last night when you'd looked at him with kiss-swollen lips, trembling with the effort of keeping yourself in check. Just as eager and willing. Just as inexperienced. Trusting and wanting. He felt you balk at the size of him and realized- Fuck. Fuck. This will split her in half.

Half the things he tried to look up said you'd like it if he just did it and the rest of the things just- ugh. They seemed either ridiculous or like some stupid fantasy someone wrote out.

Meeting you in the woods had become a sort of respite of his own. Feeling a piece of what you felt for him. And all he wanted was to get was more. It was like you lived under his skin now. He could still smell you on him from the night before, the pine and the leaves. The crisp air and the smell of the little fire. And now he wanted... God. He wanted you but-

"Master Jason, are you listening to me?"

"Wha-"

"I thought not," Alfred chuckled, warming up his coffee. "How was your evening?"

"Fine," Jason mumbled, his ears turning red. "There were new constellations."

Alfred gave him a look that heavily implied he didn't believe a single star was looked at and shook his head, "I see. And you're glaring at your coffee because?"

"I-I just-I-" Jason broke off, feeling his face turn scarlet and swallowed hard. "Well. Things-" he broke off and looked intently at his cup clearing his throat, "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt her," he mumbled.

There was a pause as the butler blinked for a second. Taken aback. He expected some sort of little spat, not intimacy issues from his grandson involving one of his granddaughters. Regardless of them not being related- it was weird. But, Bless him, he just cared so much. "I see," Alfred said exhaling slowly. "Well... I suppose it would be best just to go slowly and not be in a rush."

"But-"

"Ladies first is a good rule of thumb in most matters, Jason," Alfred said smiling just slightly as he cleared his throat. "But this particular one especially."

"Sorry," he said wincing.

"You never asked me. This never happened. And so help me, if Bruce finds out I'll wring your neck," he said.

"Understood," Jason said nodding, still not able to look at him. "Thank you," he muttered.

"I'd say anytime but-" He broke off and shuddered. "You're just going to have to figure everything else out yourself. Like everyone else."

[dazai-fan-page]

Y'all tbh I'm real tired of people trying to justify shit Dazai's done w/ the intent of making him look like a good person. He isn't.

"I can't believe he killed those guards" Really? I can, with very little issue actually. Seems fully in character. "He must've gotten someone else to do it for him" Who else can move while time's frozen? The cat girl? Ok let's say they freed her and she killed them for him. He still caused their death.

"How is Dazai going to kill Fyodor without breaking his promise to Oda?" Very easily bc he never said no more killing he agreed to be on the side that saves people. Something something side of the angels something...

"Dazai was doing what was best for Akutagawa" Ah no. No he was not, were there times where he might've done something out of need and not want? Sure, I'll argue that Dazai knew he had the potential to stop those bullets when he shot at him and that he had to shoot at him bc reputation shit but guess what if he could guess all that he would also know how his ahem. training methods were affecting Akutagawa. He wanted a loyal killing machine and used the easiest way to get him there, knowing how it would affect him.

"But he isn't doing that to Atsushi, so he's a good person now" He doesn't want a loyal killing machine. You ever read beast? Where he does want that from Atsushi? You'll never guess how he treats him. Sure he's better but he is still firmly morally gray.

"Dazai was a kid too" Yes he was, hurt people hurt people but that doesn't undo the hurt. I could make a whole other post being way more sympathetic towards Dazai, I'd love to do it but my point was that y'all are wanting something from this character that he just doesn't have to give.

[beelmons]

Just want Luke Alvez to spell out his name with his tongue against me. I'm a simple woman, with simple needs. No hands, all mouth. my cunnilingus king

no cause this is what i call having taste !

i accidentally posted this without finishing and im going insane trying to speed write it skckwkckwkf DOMT LOOK UNDER READ MORE

Edit: Okay NOW you can look.

cw: oral sex fem receiving, fem!reader

Some people paid billions of dollars to reach space and experience the wonders of the universe, and yet, it only took a heavily underpaid FBI agent to get you to see stars.

Luke Alvez was not a man to eat women out, oh no, he was the one to straight up devour them. Like an avid critic ready to cater his next meal, he would time and again bury himself in between your legs; no further aid needed whatsoever, a dedicated mouth could take you to places you were sure mortals couldn't reach.

It made you suspicious, to be honest. How could a man be so good at pleasing a woman? The only way it made sense was if he had done it hundreds of times before, but taking his time while in deployment and current new schedule in consideration, he wouldn't only have to be dedicated to it, he would have had to straight up clone himself to take two women at a time on the little time he had to spare.

He could do it, to be fair, without the need of cloning himself, after all he had his charm. You don't just open your legs for anyone on the first date, let alone the first thirty minutes of meeting them. He was a witty gentleman, and not hard on the eye at all.

Soon you would find out that his sharp tongue wasn't only skillful on the streets. Something about the way he so passionately licked you thoroughly each time. Or how he moaned along everytime he hit a good spot. Or the weird combination of strokes he pulled at the end, the one that never failed to push you over the edge.

You had to find out what it was, because you were starting to think it was not human. And tonight, as your apartment was filled with lewd slurping sounds, you were set on finding it out.

One little problem, keeping your sanity as his tongue, somehow, reached your sweetest spots was no easy task. It took all of your energy and some holding back from straight up cumming into his mouth without warning. Your face was clenched in what seemed more like pain than pleasure. But your climax was reaching, you were so close, just as close as you were to figuring out what the hell he did at the end, so close, so close.

"Babe, are you alright?" he pulled away to ask.

"No!" you yelled in anger almost instinctively, and certainly without intention.

He was clearly taken aback by your reaction, and the second you noticed his clear confusion, you spoke up again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you said, reaching to have your hand land on his hair, not wanting him to be too far from your cunt "I was just so close."

"Sorry, you looked like you were in pain, so..." he tried to explain before you cut him off.

"I was focused." you clarified.

"Focused?" his brows furrowed "Listen, if you have to focus to cum... I'd rather you tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"No. What? Come on Luke, you can't be serious." you complained "I was focused on figuring out what the hell it is that you always do, that it makes my brain be reduced to a pulp!"

You certainly didn't mean it as a praise, but he still found a way to interpret it as such. He broke into a shy chuckle as he shook his head.

"I can tell you" he said "But you have to promise not to laugh."

"Why would I-" you were about to inquire, but he cut you off.

"I spell my name with my tongue." he finally admitted.

"You are kidding." your eyes opened in genuine surprise. It sounded so stupid right off the bat, even more so when you considered the possibility of being true.

Your free hand reached down to have your middle digit trail over your own clit, you were moist enough thanks to him, so nothing else was needed. You began making an experiment of your own.

L U K E A L-

Sure, it felt good, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Not like that!" he quickly grabbed at your wrist to pull it away "It's not the same if you use fingers, and I'm afraid there is one more secret to it."

You were attentively looking at him talk, so you were able to see his face disappear between your legs. You thought after the break you wouldn't be so sensitive, but boy were you wrong. The second the tip of his tongue landed on your bundle of nerves again, your legs began to shake. Like no time had passed.

You tried your best to pay attention, you really did.

Luke Alvez

But you lost track after the 'K'.

Next thing you knew, you were dripping down in your own release, and he was doing his best to have nothing go to waste.

Your chest was raising up and down from the pants. Legs limb and tired against his shoulders. Once he was satisfied with the clean up, he raised his head yet again. His characteristic, slightly annoying, cheeky grin clear on his face.

"I do it in cursive."

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-eight of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“I'll show you how it works,” Tim says, smiling a little helplessly at him for no good reason. Kon's just–pretty. And cute. And wearing slightly smudged eyeliner, like he went out of his way to learn how to apply it just for this and didn't quite get enough practice with it during said learning process, which might be a little much to assume but sure is a thought either way. “There'll be placards and stuff that explain how it all goes too. If you don't like it we can leave, obviously, we'll just go to dinner early.” 

“You wanna do dinner too?” Kon asks. 

“My intentions tonight are for this exhibit, dinner, and then another surprise destination,” Tim says. “Do you like Japanese food, because I got us a reservation at a Japanese place I know, but if that's not your thing, there's always other options.”

Tim definitely did not make three back-up reservations in a Bat-panic, because that would be an insane person thing to do and he's operating with fully rational behavior for fully rational reasons here. Obviously. Of course-ly. 

Just like, yeah. There may or may not be back-up reservations. 

Contingency plans are vital, okay? 

“I like Japanese food,” Kon says. “Well–I like sushi and musubi and poke bowls and that kinda thing, at least. So like . . . same diff, right?” 

“Right,” Tim assumes, with still no idea what either musubi or poke bowls are. He'll google it. It'll be fine. If nothing else, Kon can get sushi. He'll buy him one of those huge fancy boats of it if he's gotta. 

. . . actually that's not a bad idea, Kon could probably use the calories. Hm. 

“You planned all that stuff, though?” Kon asks, peering around the gallery as they finally step out into it and frowning in confusion. 

“I promised you I'd take you someplace nice,” Tim says with an easy shrug. “So I found some nice places to take you. That's all.”  

“You only promised me one nice place,” Kon says with a little laugh, shaking his head. “Now it's three?” 

“I'm intending to take you to a lot of nice places, Kon,” Tim says, and feels his chest clench up a little when he sees the way Kon's expression softens at the sound of his name. He needs to be using it more, he thinks to himself. Like–way more. “Or just wherever you wanna go.” 

“Sure,” Kon says, ducking his head, then glances around the gallery again as his frown reasserts itself. “What's everybody doing? They're like–messing with everything.” 

“It's a sensory exhibit,” Tim repeats in clarification. “You're supposed to interact with the exhibits. Touch or listen to or manipulate them. Things like that.” 

Kon . . . blinks, slowly. Then he glances sidelong at Tim, biting his lip. 

He doesn't ask, but the question in his eyes is obvious enough, Tim thinks. 

“It's tactile telekinesis, isn't it?” he says. “So I thought you might be interested in something tactile.” 

“You . . . did?” Kon says, glancing back towards the rest of the room. 

“It at least seemed like a valid theory,” Tim says. Kon had kept touching the cashmere on and off for as long as he’d worn it, and petted the goat, and had apparently been clocking the whole damn mall most of the time they’d been there, and he’d just thought–well–

Kon really does talk about his TTK so much, whether it’s relevant or not. Doing something that might be deliberately relevant to it had just seemed, well . . . natural. 

If nothing else, it might help keep Kon interested in him a little longer. Tim still isn’t sure how long to expect Kon to stay interested, depending, so until he knows one way or the other, he might as well frontload his success here. Or at least try to, anyway. 

Look, he’s going to do his best, alright? His best is just the best he can do. 

“You know, if you wanted me to touch something, you could’ve just volunteered,” Kon jokes, but the way he says it doesn’t actually make Tim want to laugh. It’s actually all he can do not to frown, the way he says it. Just . . . something about it’s a little off, maybe.

“I told you I’d take you on a date,” he says. “Just telling you to feel me up doesn’t seem like putting in much effort there. Definitely not nice levels of effort.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, ducking his head as he glances away again. He’s still holding his hand. Tim wonders what kind of dates Kon’s even been on before–and if he’s ever been the one getting taken on one, too. Especially since as far as he knows Kon’s only dated girls, and there were probably some assumptions set in place there. Like–it seems likely that there would’ve been, at least. Even if just self-imposed ones. 

“Want to try?” Tim offers. “Like I said, if you don’t like it we’ll just go to dinner early.” 

“Um, sure,” Kon says. “We can try it. Um . . .” 

“This way,” Tim says, and leads him towards one of the closer stations in the exhibit. Kon looks a little unsure where to start, so he figures it’ll help if he gives him a little push. Though it’s weird to think of Kon as needing any kind of a push, except maybe a push to actually stay still and listen for ten seconds. Or like . . . anything remotely along those lines. 

The station is a low, hip-height sandbox full of . . . well, sand, unsurprisingly. There's stones and rakes and general Zen garden-style paraphernalia laid out inside it, and patterns and colors already marked and dyed into the sand to be mixed-up and deconstructed at will, though no one seems to have gotten too far into that yet. Kon tilts his head as he looks down at the display, his eyes briefly unfocusing. 

“You're just supposed to play around with it,” Tim says, wondering what that unfocused look on his face is about. “Rearrange the patterns or make new ones, I guess.” 

“Huh,” Kon says. “Okay. Like just however?” 

“I mean, what, are they gonna yell at us for doing it wrong?” Tim asks with a shrug. Kon smirks at him. 

“I could come up with something they'd yell at us for,” he says with a teasing leer. 

Tim suffers. 

“Let's wait a couple stations before we get ourselves kicked out,” he manages, swallowing awkwardly. Kon grins at him, then leans over the sandbox and presses both hands flat against the sand inside and immediately starts rearranging everything with his TTK. Tim is about to reflexively protest him not even pretending to check for any onlookers before realizing that there is literally no possible way that anyone could look at them right now without Kon being able to feel them turning their way, and also the two security cameras that were previously in their range are both cocked askew now.

Okay, so he could be worse at passing for civilian, Tim figures, and just leans over and lets himself admire the wave-like ripples spreading across the sandbox as Kon carefully constructs a swirling rainbow of an ocean with all of the brighter colors and a dark beach stretched out alongside it, accented with little rocks scattered around like shells and driftwood. The wave patterns look surprisingly accurate, but then again, he probably did get a great aerial view of the ocean on the regular back in Hawaii, didn't he. 

Tim takes his phone out and sneaks a quick pic or two of both Kon and the box on old reflex, and Kon laughs at him. 

“You like, babe?” he asks with a teasing smirk. 

“Most things about you, yes,” Tim replies frankly, because he's not Robin right now so he can do that, and Kon laughs again even as he blushes and straightens back up, the sand all brushing itself off his hands. 

“Only most?” he asks. “Guess I gotta step up my game, then.” 

“Find another excuse to wear that crop top and you'll be fine,” Tim advises, and Kon laughs so bright for that it's almost flustering. 

Well, no, it's definitely flustering. Actually it's very, very flustering. 

Adorable bastard. Absolute fucker. Tim should throw him off a bridge, but he'd just fly back up anyway, the asshole. 

Tim wants to kiss him so bad right now. 

Kon's eyes half-unfocus again, and then the sand and rocks and tools all . . . shift. Tim blinks, a little surprised, and then realizes–oh. He's sorting it all back. Like . . . very accurately back, in fact. The colors and patterns are all returning to the exact same designs as they were in when they first stepped over here. Which is probably for the best because again, they’re currently playing civilian, but–

“Holy shit,” Tim says as the patterns all settle back in and his eyebrows shoot up, more than a little incredulous. Okay, well–he's slightly less sure that Kon doesn't have Superman's eidetic memory now. Also, considering how mixed-around all the colors were, he doesn't even know how he did that so effectively. “How the hell did you do that?” 

“Wasn't hard,” Kon replies casually, but he looks smug about it, the–again–adorable bastard. Fucker. “Just undid what everybody already did, yeah?” 

Tim looks at the sand and belatedly notices that yes, in fact, Kon also reverted everything else that'd been done to it back to what was clearly the original design too. He cannot even fathom how Kon could tell how to “undo” any of that. Like–the pattern-recognition, fine, he could've done that himself–Bart could've, if he'd been interested enough to bother–but tracking back a design after undoing the whole thing to begin with and keeping the different colors of sand all correctly separated? Seriously? 

“Jesus,” he says. “That's incredible.” 

“No big,” Kon says, but looks very pleased about the compliment all the same. Tim thinks of about three thousand tactical applications for this skill alone and really wants to know why Kon doesn't brag about this part of TTK more. Or like, ever. It's always punching things and ripping up the street and tearing doors off their hinges and things like that, when he can do things like map an entire building blind and control sand down to the fucking individual grains? 

Tim might need to have a talk with all of their teammates about their actual abilities, actually, seeing all this. Like, some assessment tests might need to happen. Questionnaires. Something. The informal approach was clearly not thorough enough. If nothing else, he's definitely following up with Kon. 

“I honestly did not realize how good you'd be at that,” Tim says, and then has to watch in disbelief as Kon smirks smugly at him while simultaneously–without even looking–builds a little sand castle without even bothering to put his hands in the sand this time. Which he doesn't have to, obviously, because the sand is in the sandbox and it's part of the table which is on the floor he's standing on and Tim objectively understands how TTK works, but that really seems like it'd be much harder to pull off. Just–damn. Damn. 

. . . technically, if Kon can control things as small as a grain of sand, how small can he go? Could he–theoretically, at least–manipulate dust? Air molecules? 

Atoms? 

Because if he could, if things like that counted . . . well, the transitive properties of TTK would be a lot less of a limitation outside of maybe the vacuum of space, wouldn't they. There's always air, after all. And if Kon could manipulate anything on the atomic level . . . 

Jesus. There's a thought. 

As soon as Tim's done being desperately, overwhelmingly turned on and also reformatting several of his supervillainy-connected plans, he's gonna have to start drafting that superpower skills and applications thereof questionnaire. Like. Immediately once he's done, actually. 

Just–again, just Jesus. 

“I mean, it's just a party trick, but it's a fun one, right?” Kon says with another laugh. 

Tim is going to lose his actual fucking mind. 

“You call that a party trick?” he says in disbelief. There is no possible way that any lock could be secure against that. No one could ever hide behind cover. No one could even carry a concealed weapon without him knowing, for fuck's sake! 

. . . Tim is very glad he's been leaving the birdarangs home for his not-dates and current-date with Kon. Very, very glad. 

Jesus, that would've been fun to explain to Bruce. Well I didn't TELL him I was Robin, but I DID encourage him to tactile-telekinetically feel me up in a changing room while I was strapped with Bat-gear, sooooo . . . I mean, you never told me I couldn't do THAT. 

That's exactly how he would've explained it, obviously, but still. Bruce would not have taken it well. 

What a fucking way to come out to Batman, too.

[stgosupremacy]

Hi so this is me ranting about Ash being Goh's n01 supporter in project mew 😍 (as he always is ofc)

"I wanna join. Project Mew! For sure!"

love that cute sneaky side view

"You know what? I'm gonna cheer you on with all my might!"

the way he said you sounded a bit like it was a thank you for goh always cheering on ash during his battles 🥺 (it also sounds like I'm analysing too much again looooooooollllllllllll)

I always thought this was Ash just being dead supportive to Goh like he always is but he meant this so much 😭😭😭💗

"You're coming too, Ash?" (the hand on goh's shoulder omg and ash looks so cute idfjkmf)

"I promised I'd always cheer you on, didnt I?"

everyone smiling around them lol (they so know whats going on)

"I'll clear the mission for sure!"

"That's the spirit, Goh!" (always so supportive 🥺💖)

STOP HE'S SO HAPPY TO BE ALLOWED TO GO WITH GOHH AW 🥺

"You failed. You'd be toast if I hadn't saved you."

"Wait just a second, what are you talking about failed!?"

i love how as soon as ash sees goh's sad face he gets his protective boyfriend mode activated 🥰🥰🥺

"Good for you, Goh! I'm fired up about this too!"

i am so tempted to make a post on how touchy these guys are bc oh my god they are so touchy 💀💀 and hellllllll ash was not lying at all about being fired up about project mew, the entire trial period it was almost like ash was taking the missions, bless him 💖😂

"I'll help any way I can!"

it's so sweet to me ash constantly reminds gohof this fact <3

look at danika leaning in the back guys she knows

god ive talked ab this episode far too recently to rant about it here but 🥺😂

"You can count on us! Dont let it win!"

🥰the way ash looks at him

"Plus, I'll be there, you'll be fine!"

no words from me just pure SUPPPPPPPPPPPORTTTTTTTTTT is radiating here (and also goh looking like he's crushing bad)

"Only the challenger is allowed in this mission."

"You've gotta be kidding!"

bless the way he seems so fed up when danika says he cant come- LIKE CMON CAN THEY GET ANY CUTER??? 😭

but as soon as goh says this.....

"No worries Ash, I'm sure i'll be succesful!" (his smile is so sweet)

"You're right Goh, just make sure to pass that mission!"

...Then ash is totally supportive of it if Goh's fine with it too 💗

"Right?" 🥰

"Right!"

yeah....sorry i had to include that it was so cute

"Goh!"

"Dankia, did you do this on purpose!?" the way ash is so stressed for goh for literally no reason but his safety, enter: PROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND MODE ACTIVATED AGAIN WOOOOOOO

HE LOOKS SO SAD WHEN GOH DOESNT GET ANY TOKENS STOPPP 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the way ash is looking at him so intently...i cannot 💀💀💀💀💀

"This time I'm going by myself."

"WHAT? HOW COME?" 😨😨 (that literally deserves to be in caps because he indeed shouted it lol ) he sounds so in disbelief, it's so sweet he just sees going along with Goh everywhere now his second nature 😭💙💙💙

but after goh explaining why, then ash just smiles and wishes goh the best of luck (as he always does bc he's just happy goh is happy)

like

why is this boy so precious

"I made it through!" I SEE THAT BLUSH HEAJDKAJ (it was obviously from excitement but blushing goh is quite rare in ultimate jrnys and he looks too cute when he does it) 😂

"No joke?! Congratulations Goh!"

YAYYYY HES SO HAPPY 4 HIM 🤗🤗

"Thanks to you, Ash!" 🥰🥺💖

"Thanks to all of your hard work!" STOPP LIKE the way how he tries to deflect the praise back onto goh makes me smile every time but yk so does this entire scene at this point

right the way goh ends the call and breathes out as soon as he does is definetelyy not gay at all 🤨🤨🤨 (fr tho they make each other so happy and i'm always living for it....if you havent noticed)

...right i should stop thats enough for today

[cosyvelvetorchid]

for the prompt thing: beach day with jee-yun

Such a cute prompt! Thank you!

Enjoy 🩶

As always you can send bucktommy prompts to my ask box at any time. I love writing them so have at it 😊

*************

"So what plans have you got for the day?" Maddie asked on the phone.

"Tommy and I are taking Christopher to the beach for the day. What about you?" He asked. Maddie grunted in response.

"Everything. I promised Jee's daycare I'd make 50 cupcakes for tomorrow. The house is a mess that I need to clean. And I have to find time to go to the bank and the lawyer."

"Lawyer? Is-is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. You wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork that comes with getting married. Doug wouldn't put my name on anything, so I had no idea. But with me and Howie combining everything equally, it means putting his name on my stuff and mine on his. Honestly, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if the lawyer fees topped the cost of the wedding itself."

"Well, hey, why don't we take Jee with us? Give you some time and space to get everything done."

"Oh my god, really?!"

"Sure. I haven't seen her in at least 4 days, so I need some Jee time anyway."

"You are the best little brother in the world!"

***

"There's snacks in the bag, extra clothes. Her swimsuit is on under her clothes now. Oh, and don't forget sunscreen. Every hour and extra if she goes into the ocean." Buck swung Jees backpack over his shoulder and picked her up.

"You ready for a fun day at the beach?" He asked her.

"Yeah!" She nodded .

***

They had a blast at the beach. Tommy helped the kids dig a hole. Buck consoled Jee when the tide came in and filled it. They ate ice cream, and sandwiches that probably had sand in them, though nobody really noticed.

"What?" Buck asked noticing Tommy watching him.

"Its sweet - the way you're looking at them." He gestured to Jee-yun and Christopher playing a few metres in front of them. "You want that in the future? Kids, I mean?"

"Uh, yeah. Someday. What about you?" He asked. Tommy sighed and looked towards the kids.

"Honestly, I'd never really considered it. I guess I always thought I'd never find someone to have that chance with." He answered honestly.

"Thought? Past tense? You, uh.. you think differently now?" He asked tentatively. They were way too early on their relationship to think seriously about kids, or even marriage, but knowing where their intentions laid was a good thing.

"Now.. let's just say that there's more hope these days." He smiled softly at Buck.

***

The sun was starting its descent, allowing the sky to begin glowing in beautiful shades of pink and the temperature to begin lowering.

Tommy was helping the kids build a sand castle. Sand city was more accurate. If he wasn't a firefighter, he could definitely throw his hand at architecture, Buck thought.

He sat back on his chair just watching him. The way Tommy joyfully and enthusiastically played with the kids made Bucks' heart bubble over in his chest. He'd make a great dad.

"Letting Tommy do all the work I see?" Eddie's voice came from above. He looked behind to see both Eddie and Chim walking towards him, then sit down.

"They have a good day?" Chimney asked.

"Let's just say I think they'll both sleep tonight." He laughed.

Buck continued to watch Tommy fondly. He thought about how different his life was a year ago. Struck by lightning and having no idea where is life was going. Now he was sat on a beach, at the end of a beautiful day, staring at the man he was hopelessly and disgustingly in love with. Eddie and Chim both noticed how he was looking at Tommy.

"It's a bit early, don't ya think? Eddie told him.

"Huh?"

"To think about having kids with Tommy." He said

"I am not." Buck replied defensively, with a glint in his eye. "We've been together barely 6 months."

"Exactly." Chimney added. "So I hope you're both using protection."

[opinated-user]

I feel like it's time to shine a light on MOs immigration again:

For the uninitiated: November 2022 is when LO asked her fans to donate money for this process. December 2023 is when one fan finally asked what happened to the money (they gave a good amount) and LO claimed they had at this point submitted all the necessary paperwork and are in the background stage. It is Now September 2024.

All the following information is taken directly from the official Canadian government page:

1. During the pandemic average waiting times spousal immigration was around 12 months, it has since gone down to ten. MOs immigration therefore should be going through within the year.

2. Once you've submitted your paperwork you are eligible to apply for a working visa, that is easier and quicker to get than normal if you link it to your immigration, and move to and work in Canada. This will also show the authorities that you are willing and able to support yourself in your new home, thus have a positive impact on your process.

While we don't know MOs circumstances, she very clearly loves LO and wants to be with her + her living conditions in the US are very bad. So I'd assume she'd want to move asap.

The fact that no further updates have been given to fans who gave them money is already suspicious. Best case scenario these two are not very good at navigating government sites, worst case scenario LO is stringing her along and pocketed the money raised. Also LO claims to have a lawyer on standby, who she could then theoretically consult about any questions about the process. Weird all that.

(while I do not necessarily think moving in with LO would be good for MO, I even more do not want her hopes and dreams crushed)

actually, that is not all. it's my belief that LO not only does not have any intention of moving MO with her, she also has already misused the money that she gained from her followers for her own gain without any disclosure.

in that post i showed, with evidence that i gathered myself and LO herself provided, that is highly likely that LO spend the money from that fundraising on a desk. not only that, at the same time that LO was bragging about getting this new desk (two days after making that fundraising, then lying about it), she was also talking about getting a another desk, a more expensive one, for MO. a desk that only LO would end up using because, again, they don't live together. all of this we were talking about at the start of this year and nothing has changed.

for the record, if LO had just said openly "guys, i need urgently a new desk, i need to use this money", nobody would have a problem with it. if LO had done a fundraising for a new desk in the first place, nobody would care. streamers and youtubers ask donations from their fanbase to get new equipment all the time, that is normal. the lack of transparency is the issue here.

the issue is that LO over two years now promised, both to her audience and to MO, that she'd be working on the immigration process. she used other people's money in order to do that. they deserve to know what happened to that money.

[claudemblems]

Patching Your Wounds | Kaveh

"You're injured."

Kaveh's face fell as he gazed upon your hand, the skin littered with dozens of bloody cuts and scratches. How you got them, he didn’t know. All he did know was that the sight broke his heart.

"Kaveh, I'm–"

"Don't 'I'm fine' me," he said sternly, his voice coming out sharper than he meant it to. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before trying again. "You're not going anywhere until this is taken care of. Sit here. I'll be back with medicine and bandages."

You didn’t have the heart to refuse him, not when he looked at you with such sorrow in his eyes, so you opted to make yourself comfortable while you waited.

Less than a minute later, Kaveh returned from the bathroom with all the necessary supplies in hand. He crouched down on the wooden floor beside you, motioning for you to give him your hand. You did, and he gently took it into his own, assessing the extent of your injuries. He frowned slightly, and a twinge of guilt pricked at your heart.

But Kaveh didn't speak a word, probably because he knew his concerns would come off as a harsh scolding instead. So he silently began his work, first disinfecting the cuts and scratches before treating them with antibiotics.

"Some pesky treasure hoarders decided it would be a good idea to try to jump me," you began, choosing your words carefully. It wouldn't be wise to mention any details that might make Kaveh even more anxious. "It would have worked on any average civilian, but I'm a seasoned adventurer. Their plan was doomed the moment they underestimated me."

"And what were you doing that led you to be in an area filled with Treasure Hoarders?" 

"Uh…just some adventuring stuff. Look, Kaveh, I wasn't in any real danger, okay? I only left with some scratches."

"Scratches that armed strangers left on you!" Kaveh closed his eyes, biting back all the emotions threatening to burst. "I'm just…worried about you, okay? Whether your injuries are miniscule scrapes or cuts, they’re a visible reminder that I wasn't there to protect you. I let someone else hurt you. I let someone mar your skin with wounds that have to heal. I should have been there to whisk you away to safety, but I wasn't. And for that, I'm incredibly angry at myself, and I'm sorry to you that I wasn't there when you needed me."

The sadness pooling in Kaveh's eyes made yours sting with tears. With your free hand, you pulled his head against your chest, fingers gliding through his silky strands of hair. "Even if I had far worse injuries, I would never blame you, Kaveh, and you shouldn't blame yourself either. Unexpected circumstances are bound to happen, and we should be glad that I only left with a few scratches on my hand."

"...I know you're right, but in a perfect world, I'd never let anyone with ill intentions lay a finger on you."

"And the world we live in will never be perfect, so we should be prepared for whatever may lie ahead. We'll both end up with our own bumps and bruises, but they're a testament that we made it out alive. We can always patch each other up afterwards."

You felt him relax against you, his quick heartbeat finally beginning to slow. "I just don't ever want to see you hurt..." he whispered, wrapping an arm around your middle. "You are the best gift I've ever received, and if anything were to happen to you, my life would lose all its meaning. I could never continue on without you by my side, so please, look out for yourself, My Treasure."

Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name, one that Kaveh reserved only for the most intimate of occasions.

"I promise you, Kaveh, that I'll never leave before it's my time." You held him tighter, placing a kiss atop his hair. "I'll make sure you will never have anything precious torn from you ever again. And I'll do everything in my power to replace all the grief of your past with a future of never-ending happiness."

Kaveh pulled away to meet your eyes, one of his signature bright smiles gracing his lips. “My Love, you’ve already made me the happiest man in all of Teyvat just by being mine.”

Heat rushed to your face as you buried your head in the crook of his neck. “You sure know how to say such pleasing words.”

Kaveh chuckled, lips pressing against the crown of your head. “What can I say? You’ve made me quite the hopeless romantic, Darling.”

“All these pet names at once are going to make my heart burst.”

“Oh, that just won’t do. We still haven’t finished patching up your other wounds. How would I patch up your heart as well?”

You thought for a moment before giving Kaveh a cheeky smile. “Maybe a few kisses would suffice.”

“Oh? Well, that I can do. Let’s get you bandaged up right away so I can administer the rest of the medicine. Don’t worry, the healing properties of the kisses can be felt immediately. So the sooner I can kiss your symptoms away, the better!"

And you received many kisses that night, even long after your heart returned to normal.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #34] Speed Dating

warnings: dating other people rip, 5th muster pied piper jeon jungkook, one my fave ever chapters !! just a really good display of the starluvrs dynamic <3

wc: 5.6k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

The sound of coffee beans whirring through a grinder obscures the conversations of the couples around you; friends catching up on events of the past weekend, mothers checking in with their sons to make sure they're eating well. There's a complex myriad of relationships within these four cramped walls, unrefined wooden beams and exposed brick providing a sanctuary to escape from the cold winds of the changing seasons.

It reminds you of Yoongi's studio; the slightly woody scent bringing back fond memories - all of which are abruptly forgotten about as Seojoon returns to your table, drinks in hand.

"Thank you," you smile appreciatively as he sets them down on the table.

He was a little late meeting you, thanks to his boss staying late in the office.

"Aiming for a promotion," he had said awkwardly when he was excusing himself. "Up to a senior management position. It's looking promising."

And so you hadn't judged him too harshly for his tardiness. Know that punctuality isn't always your strong point at the best of times. Even if it isn't the best impression so early on in your dating history, you'll let it slide.

You're in the heart of the cafe; privacy not required and not particularly desired either.

It's only your second date. You're still just getting to know one another. Expectations are low, and you're thankful for it. With the mess of Jeongguk and how horribly you seem to have overstepped the boundaries of what a friendship should be, you're glad to be in a situation that comes without complications.

Dating, you think, is simple. Or at least, it should be. You get to know a person, and see if you're compatible. If you're not, it's easy to cut your losses - no hard feelings. The difficulty is when people aren't honest, nor upfront about themselves or their intentions.

Which is why, halfway through your date, Seojoon raises one of his brows in response to your honesty, and asks, "You want me to date other people? In front of you?"

"Well, no," you laugh a little, because the way he phrases it is so... accurate. Setting your coffee down, you're pleased to see that he's smiling. Is obviously taking this in good humour. "I promised my friend I'd help him out with speed dating-"

"Why does he wanna speed date?" Seojoon questions curiously. Thinks the concept is a bit old school - and not in a good way. There's a trivial nature to it. He wonders how likely you'll be able to find a decent match from such a forced scenario. "Can't find a girl? Is there something wrong with him?"

"No," you immediately defend Jeongguk. "He's a barman, and like, not a predator, so his chance to meet people kinda like how we met is limited. Also has, like, a weird complex with tinder. Doesn't like it. Wants to meet someone organically."

"Speed dating is just real-life tinder," Seojoon laughs. "It's not organic."

"Maybe not," you admit, a little dismissive in your tone, 'cause he's being difficult. "But it's real life meetings instead of online, so I think it's a little better."

"And you want me to go... why?"

"Well, 'cause I'm gonna go," you tell him. It's already been decided. Your mind is made up. It's not really a case of wanting Seojoon to go, but knowing that inviting him along is the right thing to do. "And like, it will be fun! I'm not actually gonna be taking it seriously - it's just fun."

"Okay..." He sounds sceptical. "And what about the people who are taking it seriously? What if someone falls head over heels in love with you?"

"Well then you'll have to try extra hard to be the one that I leave with," you tease.

You haven't considered the possibility that maybe he'll find someone else he likes more than he likes you - 'cause you don't actually really care. Not yet. It's too early to be invested. Your guard is still up.

There's something Seojoon finds a little thrilling about your flirtation - but as he sighs, you're reminded of the fact he's older than you. Has a couple of years on Seokjin.

Just like your ex used to get bored of your sometimes childish nature, you fear that the same could be said for Seojoon.

Still, no need to write him off so soon.

Selfishly, you also think that distance is needed between you and Jeongguk - and if you're gonna use anyone as a human barricade, then someone as handsome as Seojoon definitely eases the blow a little.

A cold breeze wafts in through the door as customers leave, but the way Seojoon finally smiles and agrees makes you feel all warm.

"Alright, I'll do it," he agrees. It could be fun. You're fun. Perhaps he does need to lighten up a little. You'd met him when he'd been a few too many drinks deep, and knows that his sober self is far more subdued. Fears that you won't like him as much if he doesn't live up to that first impression. "Where is it? When?"

With an oh-so-pleased grin on your lips, you clap your hands together. "You're the best."

"Tell me something I don't know," he flirts, sipping on his coffee with a slight arrogance. His attitude assures you that no one else will steal any attention from him in the shadowy darkness of a speed dating venue.

And yet when you both arrive at a bar a few blocks from Dionysus the following Friday evening, you find yourself constantly looking over your shoulder just in case Jeongguk should appear.

"He should be here," you jitter about a little nervously, checking the time on your phone. 7:53PM. The event starts in just seven minutes.

"Calm down," Seojoon says kindly, rubbing your arm softly. "I'm sure he's just caught in traffic or something like that."

You nod, tucking your phone into your back pocket. Dressed a little casually in a pair of black jeans with a tight, long-sleeved shirt on top, you're not really trying to attract too much attention. Sure, you're just as glittery as always but it's hardly a cry for attention - it's just who you are as a person.

"Oh, here," Seojoon says as his thumb swipes away a little glitter on your cheek.

The touch should make you swoon. Should make you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Should have you smitten. Smiling, you fold your arms tightly over your chest.

It didn't make you feel any of those things at all. If anything, quite the opposite.

Perhaps you're being a little pathetic, but your glitter is your warpaint. His preening weakens your defences. Suggests there was something wrong with your choices.

You know that's not what it means at all. You know he was just being kind.

But if you wanted help, you would have asked for it.

"Thanks," you say regardless, because you acknowledge he's being a nice guy. You don't want him to feel like he's not being so, just because of your own insecurities.

"You look nice," he compliments sweetly. "Think everyone here is gonna wanna take you home."

You raise a brow in his direction. Glance around the room, then back to him. There are definitely more women than there are men, but the split isn't too far off. About thirty people, give or take.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately? I've already seen, like, four women give you a double-take."

He laughs, shaking his head.

"Maybe they were looking at you. Plus," he sucks a little air between his teeth, then nods to the door. You turn to see what he's looking at. "Just saw at least three groups of women stop their conversations as soon as he walked in. Might have some competition."

It's hard to pinpoint what you notice first.

Part of you thinks it's the dark leather belt around his slim waist; silver buckle a little aged, sitting perfectly just above the flat path of his body that leads to somewhere you know far too well.

A lot of it could be the black shirt draped over his shoulders - a button-down with small golden polka dots dappling the almost sheer fabric. A small amount of chest exposed, silver necklaces sit prettily against a chest that looks like it's in need of some glitter.

Most of it, though, is his pretty brown eyes that somehow look a little menacing in this low light. Typically wide and doe-like, there's a little something different about them.  Desperately, you have to remind yourself not to curse beneath your breath.

Yet when he gets to the concierge table to sign in, his eyes widen like they so often do, and his nerves are shown in the way he nibbles down on his bottom lip. Eyes glancing around the room, he's seeking something out - and when they land on you, they soften entirely.

"Oh," you simply say. "That's Jeongguk."

And suddenly, Seojoon isn't so sure of himself. Knows he's not a bad-looking guy, but Jeongguk is so insanely different from him. It's not a competition. The two of them are incomparable - and that's why you like Seojoon. You don't want to compare.

"That's your friend?" He double-checks. You nod. Shrug, like you don't get the big deal. Of course you do. You have eyes. "A little warning would have been nice!"

You laugh. "What? He's just a guy. No different to any of the other guys here."

"Oh, we both know that's a lie," he laughs.

"Well, what does it matter?" You tease. "Unless you're trying to score with one of the other girls? You already know I'm not gonna be ditching you for him. Nothing to worry about."

There's a little satisfied smirk on Seojoon's face as he says, "Suppose you're right."

Again, it's not like things between you and Seojoon are deep. Feelings haven't formed to the point of actually feeling territorial.

As he makes his way over to you both, Jeongguk hides his discomfort well. Remembers the conversation earlier in the week when you'd told him Seojoon would be coming. Remember how he'd smiled and said, "Yeah, yeah, no. Sure. Go for it. Invite him. Will be fun."

Then he also remembers the way he'd stood in the shower for 45 minutes completely still with absolutely no cognitive thoughts because everything just felt so overwhelming that he just wanted to think of nothing at all - especially not about you with someone else.

Before he reaches you, the host begins to make an announcement. She welcomes back familiar faces, and introduces herself to those of you who are new. Explains how the evening will go.

There's an equal split; 15 men, 15 women. Decided on a coin toss, women will be the ones to move from table to table. Each person has a number. Yours is 23.

Jeongguk is 7, and Seojoon is 15.

You get three minutes at a table to make an impression, and then you're swiftly moved along to the next person; like a human conveyor belt. Which, in a way, you sort of suppose it is.

The dates start off effortlessly. You've a vodka coke to soften the tension.

None of them are anything to write home about. Of course they aren't. Not when they're competing with two of the most handsome men in the whole wide world.

And so, when you finally get to Jeongguk's table, and he looks at you in the way that he does?

Oh, you'll swoon.

There's not really much thought given to the way he smiles when you sit down; front teeth so sweet and bunny-like as his nose scrunches ever so gently. The domineering, slightly intimidating version of your best friend who had entered the establishment at the start of the evening is gone.

"Okay, okay," he shakes his head. Breathes out a nervous breath. Sorts his posture out. Dramatically waves his hand in front of his face as if he's getting ready for a theatrical performance. "Sorry. Hi. Nice to meet you."

You nod right back. Hide the excitement that's bursting through you like the light of a thousand shooting stars. 

His eyes, somehow, seem to be full of them, too. You put it down to the overhead lamps.

Holding your hand out for him to shake, you nod. "Nice to meet you, too. What's your name?"

Oh, it's dumb. So incredibly dumb . 

"They call me Tony," he bullshits. You know immediately where his chosen name has come from. You've taken the piss out of his doll collection enough times to be vastly aware of exactly who the figurines are.

"Funny," you smirk, leaning back into the chair. There's a menacing quality to your smile. Jeongguk can't stop himself from smiling, again. "They call me Pepper."

Your knowledge of the intricacies of Tony Stark's various love affairs is limited, but you do know one thing; Pepper Potts is possibly the most important of them all. 

You don't mean to insinuate anything more than an acknowledgement of your importance to Jeongguk, but you also don't know the characters as intricately as he does. Don't know that Jeongguk's mile-a-minute brain is only accelerating even further down his path of being hopelessly infatuated with you.

"So tell me, Pepper, what brings a girl like you to a place like this?" He flirts, keeping up the stupid game a little while longer. There are three minutes on the clock. He's making the most of it. Knows he'll wish you were still in front of him as soon as you depart to the next table.

"Got a magnet in my chest," you tell him, reciting lore he told you once when you'd been wrapped up in his duvet, watching MCU films back to back while he'd been studying. "Think there must be some iron around. Can't help but be drawn to it."

He shrugs. Pretends as if the demonstration of the fact you actively listen to him and his passions isn't the hottest thing in the world. "Is that what you're after then, huh? An Iron Man?"

"Maybe," you flirt. "Happen to know where I could find one, Tony ?"

Oh, it's idiotic - and yet you both enjoy the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk smiles. Looks down. Shakes his head. When he looks back up, he's biting down on his bottom lip, but there's a subtle disappointment in his eyes. He's quiet, as he says, "Everyone else is so boring, B."

"You've not met everyone yet," you remind him, but for some reason, you quite enjoy that it's everyone else. You're not included in that. Still, you don't want to discourage him. "And of course you'll have fun with me. You know me."

The clock by the front of the venue continues to tick on. There's only a minute or so left to go.

"I just had a three-minute conversation about porridge," he deadpans. "And before that? Blisters."

"Blisters?"

"Blisters," he confirms with a sigh. "She said her feet hurt and so I asked why and... yeah. Tangent. She wasn't asking me anything back so I just kept asking her more questions about her blisters. Oh, do you get them often? Do you use the special plasters? Like, fucking hell, B."

You're laughing now, and Jeongguk really wishes you wouldn't - mainly because nobody else has found him this funny all evening, and he hates that it's you he's the most compatible with.

From across the room, Seojoon glances over to the sound of you laughing. Is both pleased and disgruntled when he finds it's Jeongguk you're laughing with.

"She definitely thinks you have a foot fetish, now," you tease him.

His cheeks flame to match the colour of the Coke can beside his glass. He decided against alcohol tonight. Knows it's good for lowering inhibitions, but he doesn't want to meet someone like that. Wants to go in with clarity. With a clear head. No distractions or false sense of attraction.

"Fuck," he curses. "She does, doesn't she? That's why she wasn't asking me anything back."

"Oh, she's so gonna warn everyone about it-"

"Fuck," he really whines now. "You gotta make sure everyone knows I don't have a foot fetish."

"Do I?" You smirk. "And don't you have one? I could have sworn-"

"I don't!"

"Sure."

"Since when have I ever done anything with your feet," he hisses under his breath, glancing around to make sure no one hears him.

You just shrug. "You've kissed them once or twice-"

"Oh, please," he scoffs. "That's just cause they were there and I need to kiss something-"

"And you chose my feet?!"

"And you still came, so is this battle you really wanna fight?"

The buzzer on the clock timer sounds, but you don't want to stand up.

You want to bicker with Jeongguk into the early hours of the morning. Wanna bicker all the way to his bedroom - even if he does end up doing unspeakable things with your feet.

It's this realisation that actually makes you stand up.

Your mind flickers between shamelessly indulging how much you like Jeongguk, and reminding yourself that you're here with someone else. Have forced the poor guy into an evening of speed dating.

'Just helping out a friend' had been your rationale, but as you sit down at the table beside Jeongguk and hear him greet the next potential partner, the tremendous upset that washes over you makes it clear that perhaps you'd wanted to keep tabs, too. Make sure that there really is no one he likes as much as you.

You're starting to sound like her, your brain tells you.

And so you greet your next suitor. He's perfectly pleasant. A little older, but still younger than Seojoon. Works downtown at a bank. Plays football normally on Friday evenings, but bailed to come speed dating.

The conversation is nice - but you're not really focused, 'cause you keep on trying to listen in to Jeongguk's conversation instead.

"Yeah, yeah. Dog person, massively. What about you? Cats? Oh cute, do you have one? Yeah sure I'd love to pet it! Do you have any pictures? What do you mean? Not that kind of cat? What do- oh. Oh."

The giggle you splutter is stunted; out of place in the conversation you're having.

Jeongguk glances over to you, and the suppressed smile on your face as you apologise to your 'date' is as clear as anything.

"Sorry, just heard something from another table," you explain. "It distracted me for a second."

And then Jeongguk is smiling too, cheeks a little pink from embarrassment, but the blood from his face has migrated elsewhere. 

It's his heart that swells, now.

Eventually, half an hour later, miles away from Jeongguk, you find yourself right where you should be: in front of Seojoon.

"Well, well," you greet. "Fancy seeing you here."

He smiles as you sit down. He's the last on the row, thanks to the fact he didn't sign up till much later than you or Jeongguk. Again, you'd have been here with or without his blessing.

"Y'know, I think I've seen you around before," he playfully says.

You nod. "In your dreams, probably."

Okay, so it's cheesy - but you're joking around. Engaging in an innocent flirt, just like you should be.

"Probably," he agrees. Takes a sip on his drink. Whisky on the rocks. "So tell me more about yourself."

Unlike your conversation with Jeongguk, you don't lie. Don't pretend to be anyone but yourself. With other people, you don't have to play make-believe. With Jeongguk, you already know that 'you' is not what he's after, so why even bother?

"What's there to say?" You suppose with a flirtatious smile. "Barista by day, art curator by night."

"Oh, a double life," he enthuses. "Burning the candle at both ends?"

"No." You're not sure why, but the question irks you. You don't let it show. "Just like keeping myself busy. What about you?"

"Mechanical engineer by day, perpetually tired old man by night," he says. There's a charm to his self-deprecation, but it only further exacerbates your differences. The night is when you come alive.

"Look at us," you tease. "Both burning the candle at both ends."

Even though it irked you, you play up to his humour. Years working in customer service, and now having to schmooze people professionally for Tae, it comes fairly easily to you.

Seojoon laughs. Shakes his head. Is warm in his tone as he says, "When I get that promotion you won't need to worry about working."

You laugh too, because it's an absurd thing to say. Just a funny little joke.

It's your third date. Kind of. You're not sure if you can count this as one, but you're gonna. He's speaking in hypotheticals. The promotion is grounded in reality, but the rest of it - particularly the part where you're a permanent fixture in his life - is just lighthearted banter.

"And then what?" you banter back. Just like with Jeongguk, you're playful. Perhaps Seojoon isn't too dissimilar from him, after all. "We'll move to the suburbs and have 2.4 kids? I can clean all day and cook your dinner for you?"

"Well, yeah," he says, his smile still present but a little less intentional. "Maybe not 2.4. I'm thinking three."

You shudder.

The idea of your body going through something as traumatic as pregnancy three times doesn't bear thinking about. You're not maternal. Sure, maybe one day, in the very distant future when you're settled and secure - with your own finances, and your own sense of stability. The whole concept of childbirth terrifies you. Having a family is something you'd like, but fuck . It's another fear to overcome - and a hell of a fear at that.

It's one that you haven't given much thought to lately. 

Of course, when you were head over heels for Seokjin, you thought that maybe your life would look a little bit like that. Could imagine him playing tennis with your child on the weekend. The eldest. A boy, maybe. Or maybe a girl. It didn't really matter what you envisaged. Never really thought about it too hard.

"Oh?" Seojoon questions your immediate reaction. "Not want kids?"

"Well not yet," you laugh. Shrug. Grin as you tease. "Got so much I want to achieve first."

"Such as?" he asks, but his smile isn't really as present as it once was. His eyes look a little stern.

You clear your throat. Sit a little straighter.

"Well, my job for starters. Like, I love what I do, but the curation I was telling you about? The art shows I help out with? I think that's what I really love. That's what I wanna do. I just have no idea how to even properly start."

Working with Taehyung to push his art out has been such a rewarding experience. The feeling you get after a successful art show is unlike any sense of achievement a good day at the cafe could give you.

It's something to be proud of. Yes, it's Taehyung's talent that makes the sales, but it's your networking that gets the right people through the doors. A combined effort.

"But it's fine," Seojoon interrupts before you've really finished your rambling. "I mean it. I wanna work hard so I can provide for my future family. If you and me 'go the distance', then you wouldn't need to work."

You furrow your brows. Look quite affronted. "But I want to work."

"But you wouldn't need to," he insists again, broad shoulders straightening out. There's an air of arrogance to the way he wipes his fingers on a serviette and tosses it down onto the table. "I don't want a partner who's never around. Not if we've got kids."

"So you want a housewife?" You almost accuse.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"Not if it's her choice," you say defiantly. "But it'll never be my choice."

There's silence between you both. Seojoon's eyes drop, but yours continue to burn into him, affronted by his expectations, and the fact he thought perhaps you would ever shape yourself to fit into his idealised version of a woman.

"Okay, so say you get married," you theorise. It's not playful, now. Not like it was. "Get married, and she gives up everything - house, job, finances. All she does is raise your kids-"

"It's not like I'd be an absent father," he argues, but you don't really care. You're annoyed. There's nothing wrong with a traditional mindset, but you've already had one guy try and push what a woman 'should' be like onto you. You're never gonna let it happen again.

"But you'll be working so hard," you pout. Mock. Project a version of the future that you have no way of accurately predicting. "You'll be in the office all the time, and one thing will lead to another and BAM . Workplace affair-"

"I'd never cheat."

"I've been told that before," you say a little flippantly. "It's life. It happens."

"You're not being fair."

"No, what's not fair is that in the divorce she'll be left with fuck all - just your shitty, snivelly kids. No career, no financial security, no prospects, nothing."

Seojoon grates his jaw a little.

"You're projecting."

"And you're forgetting I'm a woman. I've dated corporate men before. I've heard the horror stories."

"This is literally insane," he laughs. "Like, you're crazy. You can't just assume every man is the same."

"And you can't assume that every woman will be happy with the life you want for them," you laugh right back, disbelief taking hold of your emotions. Scoff. Tut. "So fuckin' backwards."

"Well maybe not every man will be happy with the life you want for them-"

"I don't want my future partner to change their goals or aspirations to suit my needs," you remind him. "I just want them to support my goals, too."

Seojoon frowns. "You're making me sound like an asshole."

You just shrug.

"I don't think I'm making you sound like anything," you sigh. Shake your head. Look down to the dinner table and then back over towards him. "I just..."

There's a realisation floundering around you both; a brief peak into what the future could look like.

And neither of you are happy.

"So... Speed dating is fun," he says sarcastically, trying to inject some humour back into your conversation. He's not a bad guy. He's really not. He just doesn't want the same things that you do.

The buzzer on the clock rings.

Your time is up.

Not just for you and Seojoon; but for everyone.

Fates need to be sealed in brown envelopes.

Leaning against a coffee table, you skim over the second-date slip from the organisers. 

On it, is a table listing out every person you dated tonight with a small picture to remind you of them. All you need to do is scribble a big fat cross next to the people you wish to date again.

You put a thick cross in the box next to Seojoon's name, because it feels like that's what you're supposed to do. Hover over the empty box beside Jeon Jeongguk, and hesitate. Half think that you should put a cross in there, too.

If you were to see him on tinder, you'd probably give him a super-like, because it's funny, and what friends do - but this seems a bit more serious than a swipe. So you leave it empty.

Like a black hole, the empty space feels wrong.

But filling it would also be wrong. 

Slip handed back into the event hosts, you go to mingle with the ladies. There's an awkward divide, the men on one side of the bar, women on the other.

"So," a woman not much older than yourself nudges your arm. "Who tickled your fancy?"

You hesitate. Remember that there is a right answer and a wrong answer. "Number 15. Seojoon."

"Ohh, yeah he was dishy," she swoons. "Bit too stiff for me, though."

Laughing at her observation, she isn't wrong. "So who did you go for?"

"Number 7. I forget his name but I don't think it matters - half the women here seem to have put him down!"

When she smiles, there's a radiance to her. She's unjaded. Doesn't seem to harbour the resentment of failed relationships, nor the fracture marks of a broken heart. Someone like her would be good for Jeongguk.

You cast your eyes over to where he's talking to some guy who barely even managed to get you interested in him. Everyone else seems pale in comparison to your best friend. Glancing at Seojoon, you feel guilty. You're the one who insisted that he come tonight, and yet you've spent the entire time running laps in your own heart trying to run away from the undeniable feelings you have for Jeongguk. It's all so fucked.

The only thing that gives you even a little bit of comfort is the fact that you know, for a fact, that you and Seojoon won't work. You'll waste no more of his time.

Eventually, the organisers return. Each attendee is given a small brown envelope with the details of mutual matches in them. If you both chose one another, you'll be invited to stay for a second date - this time without the timer. Everyone else will be given a drinks voucher for the bar on the floor below - either to drown their sorrows or give them a little Dutch courage to try again.

Again, the women congregate. Excitedly open their envelopes. You hold back a little. Part of you doesn't want to see a fate you've sealed, knowing full well that you intend on ending things with Seojoon.

And yet, from across the group, you hear a gasp. "I matched! With 15!"

Fucking ouch.

You twist around to see Seojoon smiling at his sheet of paper, then glancing over - presumably to her, but catching you first. He does, at least, look apologetic. Tilts his head for you to come over.

And so you do.

"Look," he sighs. Offers a smile. "We both know after that conversation that this isn't right for us."

Scrunching your face up a little, you nod. Feel relieved, more than anything. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says as he lightly nudges your shoulder. "One of the girls here went to my college, so it was kinda nice talking about it with her."

"Makes sense," you accept, relieved that it's working out in the way that it is. "For the record, though, you were my only choice."

"Oh give over," he laughs, only to realise you're being deadly serious. He looks utterly confused. "Not even your friend? Jeongguk?"

Shaking your head, you shrug. Laugh. "I'm trying to help him find a date."

"Okay?" Seojoon questions. "Is that not what a partner should be? A friend?"

"Stop," you smile. "You'll put ideas in my head - and everyone knows ideas are a dangerous thing for a girl like me."

Looking down at you with a smile you know could steal hearts, just not yours, Seojoon agrees. "For what it's worth, I think you'll achieve everything you want to achieve."

You aren't so sure, but you thank him regardless. Encourage him to retrieve his match and head off for a real date. Tell him not to be a stranger, but realistically know that it's all he'll ever really be to you now.

From across the room, Jeongguk looks at you with a perplexed frown. You're running your thumb beneath the lip of the envelope to check the contents. You've no possible matches, not now your only one has chosen someone else.

You scan the room for your best friend and are surprised to see that he's alone. Holding up your empty envelope, you just shrug.

He reciprocates. Holds up his equally empty envelope, and then mouths, "me too."

Tilting his head to the side, Jeongguk doesn't really understand how you both ended up without a single reciprocated interest, even if the science is glaringly obvious.

You didn't put anyone other than Seojoon.

And Jeongguk didn't put anyone other than you.

Though he's too far away for you to hear, you can read his lips as he smiles and says, "Should we go?"

Glancing behind you one last time, the girl who had been speaking to you earlier catches your attention.

"So?" she asks excitedly. Though her matches came up empty - much like everyone else who chose your best friend - she's still pleased for everyone who got a match. She does seem to have forgotten the part where you told her you'd only written down Seojoon's number, but she's been asking everyone the same question. Is bound to have let a few details slip her mind. "Get a match?"

You smile a little, and then simply say, "Yeah. I think I might have."

There are whispers as you head over to Jeongguk. Gossip. Speculations. Why you? Why not them?

And the answer is simple: How would he ever choose someone else?

"So I know this bar," Jeongguk grins as you come within earshot.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm, it's just around the corner. Called Dionysus. I hear they have, like, a super hot bartender."

"Yeonjun?" You question. "He's a bit young for me."

"Sorry, let me rephrase," Jeongguk enthrals, hand on the small of your back as he guides you out of the venue. "A super hot bar manager ."

"Oh shit, you know, it's funny," you banter back. "I hear he's gonna put my drinks on his tab all night?"

You're a sneaky little bitch. He'll give you that much. 

And he'll also give you exactly what you want.

"I think you heard correctly, B."

A small hum of delight escapes your lips as Jeongguk loops his arm around your shoulders. Naturally, your arm wraps around his waist.

"Well, in that case, what are we waiting for?" You giggle. "Let's go get fucked up."

[mrsgiovanna]

Fighting Imperfections (Don Giorno x Wife!Reader)

I'm sorry, this is just me projecting. I can't remember if I posted this before, but here goes.

Word count: 1.2 k

Warnings: sad, self depreciating reader.

You sighed heavily as you walked out the last of Giorno’s guests. Normally the murmurs of how beautiful of a couple you two are would make you beam with joy, but today it annoyed you because it only amplified your insecurities. Another day… of smiling through the alternating pain and emptiness. Your cheeks hurt, but the physical pain was welcomed, it was so much easier to bear than the ache that thumped in your chest with every heartbeat- a painful reminder that you were still breathing. As the last car rounded the corner away from your luxurious home, your shoulders finally slumped and you trudged away from the door. The master bedroom was one of the few places where you felt safe enough to let your tumultuous emotions wash over you, so there you went.

You had struggled with these negative emotions for many years, losing chunks of time to this unshakeable melancholy. They were difficult to predict or counter. You had locked the door behind you, wanting to try and restore some semblance of calm to your demeanor before facing Giorno again. You threw off the gorgeous designer dress and took a shower before throwing on something soft and comfortable. You had every intention of rejoining your husband but just getting yourself through that little routine had drained whatever energy you had left. He'd be better off catching up with your shared associates though, you mused, feeling as though you wouldn't add anything valuable to their video conferences. Firmly tucked away, drawing your knees towards your chest, you allowed the floodgates to open and let everything out. Usually, a good cry would take care of some of the negative emotions, but this time, it didn't seem to work.

Intrusive thoughts about the worst scenarios plagued your mind despite trying to push them aside. You tried thinking about the good things and how much you had been blessed with but it always morphed into a scenario in which you would ultimately be left alone… so you thought about Giorno and how he makes a daily promise to never leave your side. But you had lost so much, what if he was just lying to you and you'd eventually have to deal with losing him too…

No…

You took as deep a breath as your constricted chest would allow you to and tried to focus your attention on something positive.

Giorno… you thought of him more and your heart ached for a different reason. He loved you, you knew that, but your mind had always managed to convince you that he would be better off with someone else, someone beautiful and vibrant, someone worthy of him because beneath it all you're just a broken doll. The repair is near perfect and nobody can see the fault lines where you cracked, but you feel every fracture, constantly reliving each event that put the cracks there in the first place.

You felt the bed sink on one side as a large comforting hand rubbed your back in circles before pulling back the covers you had buried yourself under.

"You know I'd end anyone who hurts you?"

"I know…"

"So what do I do when you're the one hurting yourself?"

Giorno's glassy eyes didn't leave your face, searching for an answer to his question.

You met Giorno's gaze, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and love in his eyes. His concern was evident, and it touched you deeply. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you reached out and held his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice filled with raw emotion. "I don't want to hurt myself, but sometimes it feels like I can't escape these thoughts. They consume me, and I can't help but doubt myself, doubt our love."

Giorno's grip on your hand tightened, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "You are not a broken doll, my love," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You are the most beautiful and resilient person I know. I fell in love with every part of you, including the cracks. They are a part of your story, a testament to your strength."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words resonated with you. It was moments like these that reminded you why you fell in love with him in the first place. He saw beyond your insecurities and loved you unconditionally.

"I'm trying, Giorno," you replied, your voice wavering. "I'm trying to believe in myself, in us. But sometimes it's overwhelming."

Giorno leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to go through this alone," he assured you. "I'm here for you, always. We'll face these demons together, and I'll do whatever it takes to help you heal."

Feeling his love and support envelop you, a glimmer of hope sparked within your heart. With Giorno by your side, maybe you could overcome these insecurities and find the peace you longed for.

You snuggled closer to Giorno, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "I love you."

Giorno smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, more than words can express," he replied, his voice laced with sincerity. "Remember, we are a team, and together, we can conquer anything."

Giorno's gaze held a mixture of tenderness and longing, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, seeking permission and reassurance. You met his gaze, the unspoken understanding between you palpable.

With a gentle nod, you closed the remaining distance between your lips, initiating a kiss that conveyed both vulnerability and passion. It was a kiss that spoke of shared burdens and unyielding support, a tangible connection that transcended words.

The kiss deepened, as if pouring all the love and reassurance you both felt into this single act. It was a moment of solace, a reminder that you were not alone in your struggles. Each brush of your lips conveyed a promise—a promise to heal together, to support one another, and to cherish the imperfect beauty of your shared journey.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the tenderness of the moment. The world outside your bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a cocoon of love and understanding.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and yet more at peace than before, you found solace in Giorno's eyes once again. There, in the depths of his gaze, you saw unwavering devotion and a fierce determination to help you find happiness.

With a small smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Giorno. Thank you for loving me."

Giorno's voice was filled with sincerity as he replied, "Always, my love. Always."

And in that moment, you believed him. You believed in the power of love to heal and overcome and to create a future where your insecurities would no longer hold you captive. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, guided by the strength of your bond and the depth of your love.

As you lay in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe in his words, finding solace in the love and support he offered. The journey towards healing would be challenging, but with Giorno by your side, you knew you could face anything that came your way. In the sanctuary of his embrace, his presence soothed your troubled mind, and a moment of quiet intimacy enveloped the room. The weight of your insecurities and pain began to fade as you focused solely on the love between you, knowing that in this imperfect existence, you had found a love that was flawless.