#i've already thought up and started on a small part 2 to this lol that's how fucked up christian and his insta lives have me

[ama3003]

hi! is there any way you can write a pt 2 of a pawn once more? maybe turn it into a series? i just read it and LOVED it, your writing is beautiful!

Ask and you shall receive!!!!!

A Pawn Once More (2)

Character: Haymitch Abernathy

Requested: Sorta??? Lol I've been seeing all the love it's been getting.

Type: Angst/ Fluff

Summary: You're trying to figure out if you should listen to your heart or follow your head.

Part 1: Here

Part 3: Here

A.N: I haven't read Sunrise on the Reaping, so please, No Spoilers. It's a Female!Reader. Age Gap: Haymitch is 41 and Reader is in her 20s (preferably 25)

I honestly wasn’t expecting this to get so much love — thank you all so much! I've seen a lot of people asking for it to become a series, and the truth is, I actually started this one-shot right in the middle of everything. There’s so much more I can write — backstory, missing context, and I could even take it all the way through Mockingjay Part 2 and beyond.

Let me know what you want to see, and I’ll gladly make it happen!

My inbox is always open and y'all I love your comments! Soooo please comment!!!!!!

You couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t just the bodysuit—though it clung too tightly to your ribs—but the panic.

The cold, creeping panic of being back. The fear you thought you'd buried, the ghosts you thought you'd left behind—they were all clawing their way back to the surface.

How unlucky were you, really? To be given a second round of memories. A cruel encore.

"Breathe. Breathe. Breathe." The words barely made it past your lips, more breath than voice, a desperate mantra as you stepped into the Chariot Staging Area.

You just needed to find Haymitch.

If you could hear his voice, meet his eyes, feel his presence—maybe then the terror would loosen its grip. Maybe then you could breathe.

“You look stunning!” your stylist chirped, smoothing your hair and flicking back a few stubborn flyaways. Her hands were quick, practiced, and utterly unaware of the storm brewing inside you.

You were dressed in a sleek black bodysuit, tailored like a second skin. Woven into the fabric were delicate fiber-optic threads that pulsed in slow, elegant waves, mimicking lightning bolts across your body. A walking storm.

“This beautiful number responds to movement,” she said proudly. “The lights will shift and pulse with every gesture. I’ll be operating the pattern controls—you just need to wave and look pretty.”

You nodded absently, your attention already drifting, eyes scanning the room like sonar.

You needed to find him.

“Little bird looking for me?” You turned, and there he was—Gloss, standing with that signature smirk, arms crossed like he owned the room.

“You look breathtaking,” he said, eyeing the suit with an appreciative nod. “I swear, you’ve got enough power in you to light up all of Panem.”

A genuine laugh escaped you, small but real, and you stepped forward to pull him into a hug. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” you said, voice lighter. “But it’s good to see you, Glossy. Where’s Cash?”

“Here I am!” a familiar voice called.

You turned to see Cash striding over, flanked by Enobaria and Brutus. A wave of warmth surged through your chest. You moved quickly, gathering them all into a hug.

These weren’t just allies. These were your people. Friends who understood the weight behind your eyes. The ache in your chest. The blood on your hands. Because they were the exact same way. As broken as you were.

Once, when you were young, it seemed impossible to be asked to kill strangers. And now? Now you were being asked to kill your friends.

“How are you all?” you asked, voice soft. “I’m sorry I missed the last hangout. I had food poisoning. And I’m even sorrier that this is how we’re seeing each other again.”

You gave them a sad smile. The kind that meant more than words ever could.

“This was definitely a turn of events,” Enobaria muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Never thought I’d have to set foot back here as a tribute,” Cash added, shaking her head.

Everyone nodded grimly. You all had the same unspoken thought: peace was promised. And then peace was stolen.

Brutus looked across the room, tipping his chin toward the group. “So? Should we expect you and Mason to join us?” You raised an eyebrow. He went on.“I doubt we’ll offer that to District 4. I love Mags, but this isn’t about friendship. It’s about survival. Or are you planning to side with the newbies for your husband’s sake?”

You met his gaze, firm and unflinching. “You already know the answer to that, Brutus. Those kids? They’re basically his. Which means… they’re mine, too.”

Enobaria let out a slow sigh, stepping closer. “Just don’t put their lives above your own. And don’t forget about Mason. You have to think about him. Plust those kids…” Her next words hit harder than you were ready for. “--they’re the reason we’re here. If just one of them had died... we wouldn’t be back in this arena and we all know it. And look at us we’re stuck here once again and now we have to kill each other.”

The silence was immediate and suffocating.

No one spoke.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

It was the truth everyone avoided speaking out loud—but now that it hung in the air, you all had to face it.

Bitterness curled in your stomach, uninvited but undeniable. You hated feeling it. Hated that it made sense.

“Hey,” Cash cut in sharply, eyes narrowing at Enobaria. “Stop. Whatever happens, happens. We keep it fast. We keep it painless. Right?”

Everyone nodded. Even Enobaria.

Then Cash turned to you, her voice lowering.

“I would really love for District 5 to join us,” she said. “We love you. And we love Mason. But I get it. You’re looking out for your husband. That’s not cowardice—that’s loyalty. It’s love. Just… if anything changes, you’re always welcome here.”

She gave you a tight hug and stepped away. Gloss winked and followed. Enobaria gave you a rare side hug. Brutus patted your shoulder, rough and sincere, before the group slipped into the crowd.

And then you were alone again. Not alone in the room—but alone in the way that mattered.

Your eyes scanned once more, heart pounding harder now.

For him.

And then you saw her—Katniss. Standing with Peeta. Not speaking. Not blinking. Just... watching.

You hadn’t spoken yet. You and Haymitch had always kept your relationship quiet, tucked away where the Capitol couldn't twist it. Mentors by day. Lovers by night. The other victors knew. Your families knew. But to the Capitol?

It had to stay hidden.

Some things were too sacred to put on display.

Last night had nearly shattered that wall. You’d broken down behind a closed door, only to feel their eyes on you through the crack—Katniss, Peeta, and even Effie.

But Haymitch had pulled you away, shielding you from their stares. From their pity.

And now, Katniss was watching again.

You met her gaze, steady and calm, and offered a soft smile. A small nod.

She mattered. They both did.

You needed her to trust you.

Because Haymitch did. And you saw it—how he cared for them. The soft way he spoke to them. The cracks in his armor, carefully hidden but real. He was letting himself feel again.

He was learning to love. Openly. Fiercely. Just like you had always wished he would. And because of that, you would do whatever it took to protect them. By your life… or by your death.

Katniss gave you the smallest of nods. Then turned away.

You exhaled—slowly, shakily.

A small victory.

Maybe the only kind left.

A warm hand caught your arm. Mason.

“You ready for this?” he asked, helping you up into the carriage.

You nodded. “Smile and wave,” you said softly.

The chariots began to roll and the sound hit like thunder. A roar of applause, cheers, screams. Your lungs tightened. The noise pressed in from every side. Your hands trembled. Sweat gathered along your brow. You felt like you were drowning in the sound.

Mason’s grip on your hand tightened. He could feel your fear. But he wasn’t the one you needed.

You needed Haymitch.

His voice. His eyes. His strength.

You scanned the audience, heart hammering wildly. Too many faces. Too much light. Too much noise.

And then—there.

You found him.

He stood behind the others, half-hidden, quiet as always. But his eyes were on you.

Only you.

You felt your shoulders drop. Your breath returned. You smiled softly

And he winked.

Just like that, the panic loosened. The thunder of the Capitol became background noise. The trembling in your fingers eased.

You could do this.

You could finish the parade.

Because he saw you. Because he was there.

And that was enough.

*******

You hated looking at yourself in the mirror. You always had. Especially after the Games.

Back then, at sixteen, you’d stare at your reflection and search for something—someone—you recognized. But all you ever saw were the eyes of the people you killed, their final moments etched behind your own. 

You didn’t see a girl. You didn’t see a victor. You saw a murderer.

And now, nearly a decade later, here you were—twenty-five years old, staring into the same damn mirror, in the same damn room, waiting to face the same horrors.

Except this time, you weren’t naïve enough to believe you’d make it out.

You knew the moment you volunteered.

This was your end.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts. “Darling, we need to go,” Mason’s voice called gently from the hall. “We need all the training we can get.”

You looked at yourself one last time.

A murderer. A lunatic. A dead man walking.

You blinked away the tears, jaw tightening. Then you tied your ponytail higher—tighter—like it might hold you together a little longer.

You stepped out to meet Mason.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with that familiar worry. He always worried. Especially about you. You were the little sister he never had—and now the two of you were walking into hell all over again.

“Well enough,” you replied, offering him a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “But it’s fine.”

He didn’t believe you. But he nodded.

You were grateful, at least, that you’d never really stopped training after your Games. You were constantly on edge, and staying active had become your only way to keep the nightmares at bay. The gym had always felt more familiar than your own home.

The Training Center was exactly how you remembered it: the scent of metal, sweat, and Capitol sterilization. Clean and gleaming, like death dressed up in a ballgown. Everything here looked expensive. Perfect. Soulless.

You and Mason stood shoulder to shoulder on the rising platform. The doors opened, revealing the training floor—wide, cold, and humming with tension.

Tributes filled the space, moving like restless ghosts. Silent, watchful, already assessing one another like it was the arena.

You tensed immediately. The smell. The sound. The weight in the air. It all pulled you backward, to the first time. The fear. The blood. The moment everything changed.

You scanned the floor, searching for him. For Haymitch.

But he wasn’t here.

Mason nudged you gently. “He’s probably hungover. He’ll be down in a minute.”

You nodded, but your mind was still spinning. You didn’t want to be here. Not really. You didn’t want to spar or strategize or throw knives at holograms. You wanted to find Haymitch. You wanted to hold his hand and talk about nothing. You wanted to remember what it felt like to be alive before the arena took everything again.

But the odds were never in your favor.

“I say we stick with the Careers,” Mason murmured, arms crossed over his chest as he nodded toward the familiar pack from Districts 1, 2, and 4. “They’ve got numbers. They’re predictable. We know how they move, how they think. We get in, stay close, bail when it gets ugly. And hey—if we do die, at least it'll be quick and painless.”

You didn’t respond immediately.

Your eyes drifted across the floor, landing on Katniss and Peeta as they entered the room. Their posture was stiff. Guarded. Haymitch still nowhere in sight.

You sighed. “We can’t.”

Mason’s brow furrowed. “We can’t what?”

“We can’t team up with the Careers.”

You turned to him fully, voice steady, even as your heart pounded. “We need to stick with District 12. With them.”

He stared at you like you’d lost your mind. “Are you serious? Y/N, come on. They’re kids. They won out of dumb luck.”

You met his stare. “We all won out of luck.”

“You know what I mean.” He stepped closer, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Everyone here won. They’re strong. Dangerous. But you want to team up with the wide-eyed girl and her boy toy? Compared to the Careers? Darling, please.”

“I’m not asking you,” you said quietly. The edge in your voice cut sharper than you meant it to. “I’m telling you. I’m staying with them. You can make your own call.”

There was a pause. Not anger—just tension. Thick with history. With grief.

Mason’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t like last time, Y/N. This isn’t your Games. This isn’t about heart or honor or—whatever the hell you and Haymitch have going on now. This is survival.”

You looked him straight in the eye. “Exactly. And it’s their survival I’m fighting for.”

His voice dropped. “And what about you?”

You hesitated, but he caught it. Your silence was louder than any answer.

“Look,” you began, softer now, “I’m not asking you to follow me—”

But he cut you off, stepping closer.

“You don’t have to! We’re partners. I’m sticking by you. I always have.” His voice cracked, just slightly. “I just want you to think. Really think, before you throw yourself into a losing bet. There’s a smarter play here. You know that.”

“I do,” you said. “But sometimes the smart play isn’t the right one.”

He exhaled harshly and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You want to help Haymitch. I get that. I do. But we both know it was luck that those two made it out. Pure, stupid luck. But you. You can win. You can make it back to your family. I’ll help you get there.”

You were about to say something to Mason—something half-formed and already losing shape in your mouth—when you heard his voice.

“Y/N! Mason!”

Your head turned faster than your heart could catch up. And there he was.

Your husband.

That familiar flutter of your heart. Like it always did. You hadn’t seen him in a day? But even now, with him just a few feet away, it felt like a lifetime had passed. You missed him deeply.

Trailing behind him were Katniss and Peeta.

“I want to formally introduce you to my victors,” Haymitch said, stopping in front of you. “Katniss and Peeta. Guys, this is Y/N and Mason. District 5.”

“Hey,” Mason said, flashing that strained, too-polished smile he always wore around new people. He gave your shoulder a quick pat. “I’m gonna go see what Gloss and Brutus are up to. Grab me when you’re done.”

Then he leaned in, low enough for only you to hear. “Please… think about what I said.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. He gave you a look—worried, conflicted—and walked off.

You turned back to the trio.“Sorry about him,” you said with a soft exhale. “He’s… under pressure…but aren’t we all?”

Your gaze lingered on Haymitch for half a second longer than it should’ve. You didn’t need to explain more. He already knew.

Then you looked at Katniss and Peeta, offered a small smile, and reached out your hand. “I’m Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you both. What you did—how you handled everything—it was impressive.”

Peeta was the first to move. His handshake was firm, warm. His eyes kind. “It’s good to meet you. We, uh… we watched your Games last night.” He hesitated, then smiled a little. “You were incredible. And also… slightly terrifying.”

You actually laughed. “Don’t worry,” you said. “If things go well, you won’t have to be scared of me.”

Haymitch cleared his throat, arms crossed, already watching the storm gather in Katniss’s face. “I was telling them you and Mason would be good allies. They seemed open to it.”

Katniss turned sharply toward him. “No, we didn’t.”

You blinked, trying to keep your expression neutral, but her words stung.

She folded her arms, looking you up and down like she was trying to see beneath your skin. “How are we supposed to trust you if you’re still with him? He clearly wants nothing to do with us.”

Your voice was quiet but steady. “I can handle Mason. He’ll follow my lead. He won’t be a threat.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, turning away, “I don’t trust you either.” And just like that, she was gone. Peeta followed, his face apologetic but silent.

You stood there for a beat too long, your hand still halfway raised before you let it fall.

Haymitch ran a hand down his face. “She’s scared,” he muttered. “She’s trying to protect him. She’s paranoid—on edge.”

You shook your head, arms wrapping around your chest like armor. “I get it. I really do. But if she won’t trust me, Mason’s going to dig in even harder. He’s already eyeing the Careers, and they really want us. They’re not taking District 4.”

Haymitch glanced toward where Mason was sparring with Brutus, the clang of metal echoing through the air like thunder. He winced.

“You thinking of going with them?”

You turned back to him slowly, locking eyes. “You really asking me that?”

Silence.

“I’m here,” you said. “With Twelve. With you. That’s not changing.”

He nodded, but you could see it—the guilt. The weight of what he was asking from you. Of what he couldn’t promise in return.

“I’ll talk to her,” he said finally. “I’ll get her to see reason. But you’ve gotta keep Mason from jumping ship. We don’t win this if he flips.”

You followed his gaze. Mason was grinning now, laughing at something Brutus said. “He can go if he wants,” you said quietly. “I told him. But my alliance is here. I made that choice.”

For you. You didn’t say it out loud. But Haymitch knew.

The noise of training continued around you—grunts, shouts, weapons clashing—but for a second, it all felt muffled. The pressure building behind your ribs was harder to ignore by the minute.

You looked at Haymitch again and tried not to let the fear show. But he saw it. He always saw it.

And that was part of what made this so unbearable.

“How are you feeling?”  He asks the question softly, like it’s the only one that matters. You know his eyes are tracing the lines of your face, trying to read the answer that you’re not saying out loud. The panic attack you’d had with him still lingers in his mind — a tightness in his chest he can’t shake. He’s scared, just like you are. The separation, even this small distance between you, feels like a raw wound. Every second without you feels like it’s eating at him from the inside out.

You shrug, doing your best to sound nonchalant. “I’m fine enough. Haven’t had another panic attack... yet. But it gets close sometimes.” You try to offer a half-smile, but it’s hollow. You can feel it — the weight of everything about to happen. And it’s suffocating.

His fingers twitch, almost as if he’s reaching for you before realizing he can’t. The frustration is written all over him. He needs to touch you. Needs to hold you, but everything feels like it’s out of his reach.

“You’ve only got a few days left until—” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to. You both know what’s coming. The suffocating fear. The arena. The uncertainty. But for a second, you don’t want to hear it. Not from him.

“I walk into my death?” You let out a shaky laugh, trying to break the tension with humor that doesn’t quite land. “I promise to make it as epic as possible.”

You turn to look at him, but his eyes are hard, like he’s trying to hold it all together, and he doesn’t like what you’re saying.

“What?” you ask, but you already know.

“Don’t say that.” His voice is low, urgent. His brow furrows as he steps closer, his gaze sharp. “Never say that.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, a dull pain spreading through you. “I’m sorry.” The words fall out before you can stop them, but it feels too late to take them back.

“I need you out of that arena.” His voice is raw, like it’s the one thing he can cling to. “I don’t know what I’d do if you don’t.”

You know that’s the truth. You can see it in his eyes, that quiet desperation. He’s already lost so much. He can’t lose you too. But you’re not sure how to make him understand that you’ve already made peace with the reality.

You turn your body toward him, not daring to reach out because of the eyes on you both. But this — this moment — this conversation, it’s just between the two of you. You need him to see you, to know you’re still there, even when it feels like everything is about to come crashing down.

“Haymitch,” your voice is softer now, the lump in your throat growing. “We’re going to be fine. No matter what happens, okay? In sickness and in health. In better or for worse. Death won’t do us part.” Your breath hitches, and you try to hold back the tears, but they spill anyway. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

There’s a tremor in his eyes, like he’s holding something back. But it’s his voice that cracks this time, just a little. “And I love you,” he says, his words lingering between you both. “Which is why I don’t like that you sound so defeated.” His voice is a whisper now, almost lost in the space between you.

It’s true. He’s only seen you three times. And all those times, you’ve looked at him like you’ve already accepted your fate. And that’s the part he can’t handle. The part that tears at him in a way he’ll never be able to explain.

“It’s not defeat.” Your voice is stronger now, though it still trembles. “I’ve accepted it. I won’t be as lucky as I was the first time around. And honestly, I don’t think I want to be. Not with them.” You gesture to the others around you — the tributes who would be in the arena with you. “And definitely not if it’s against your kids.”

He bristles at the mention of them, his expression hardening in that way you’ve come to know well. “They’re not my kids.” His tone is sharp, defensive.

You roll your eyes, though the sadness creeps back in. “You’re letting them into your heart, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” You smile, but it’s bittersweet. “It’s such an honor seeing the light shine back into your eyes.”

His gaze softens, but his voice drops, rough and honest. “I’ve had light from the moment we kissed. You are my light. And that’s why I need you to stop talking like you’ve already lost.” He steps closer, his hand hovering like he wants to touch you but is afraid to. His breath is ragged. “The Abernathy’s don’t give up.” He’s trying, trying so hard to convince you both. But the truth is, you’ve already decided.

“They don’t.” You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And that’s why, whatever happens, I’m going to need you to remember that.”

How could you still try to take care of him when you were the one who needed the comfort? You were supposed to be the one being held, not the other way around. But he was still trying to do it — trying to take care of you in whatever broken way he could.

“I’ll figure something out,” he says, his eyes burning with determination. “Trust me, okay? I’ll figure something out. And both you and the kids... you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” He reaches for your hand quickly, squeezing it tight. You can feel the heat of his palm, the raw, frantic pulse beneath his skin. His eyes meet yours for just a second, and he gives you a wink, a shaky attempt at something like normal. “Now, I have to go find where that girl ran off to. I swear, she’s becoming more of a pain in my ass this time around. And Peeta’s following her like a lost puppy.”

You chuckle softly, the sound breaking the tension between you both. “But you love them.” You smile up at him.

He shakes his head, his smile small but real. “But I love you more.”

And in that moment, you know he means it. Even if you’re both standing on the edge of an abyss. Even if you don’t know how you’ll survive the next few days, or if you’ll survive at all. Haymitch’s love is the only thing in this world that feels like it might be enough to hold you together.

But you can’t say that. You can’t say anything. Because the truth is, you’re terrified.

And you’re not sure you can be brave enough for both of you.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Taglist ( I hope I did this right)

@nikki-is-a-nerd , @quantumorquanta, @starvedhoe, @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream , @andthevillainshallrises , @how-am-i-serpose-to-know , @honeybunnyboobear , @dedicatedfangirl2001 , @godwhyamionhere , @yoursrosie , @darylmysavior , @crossfandomslut , @passionkillerphil , @fallout-girl219 , @ramennudel , @onlyrealjoy , @narliesstuff

[kaysungshine]

Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say. 

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

[paisleypens]

idk if youve done something like this, but a you posted that with y/n and spencer and theyre having fun but theres an old tweet about how spencer likes y/n!! hope this makes sense <3

winter break stirred up some writing motivation, sorry to everyone who has expected more lol. this is a GENIUS idea anon, tysm <3

yeah, i posted that... | spencer agnew x reader

gender neutral reader, second person, embarrassed spence, real tweets from the boys!!

~~~

You were all in for another shoot on the Smosh Pit set, and today was no ordinary one. The much-anticipated episode of "You Posted That?" featuring Spencer Agnew, Shayne Topp, and you, Y/N, had been scheduled for months. You’d joined Smosh not too long ago after building a successful career as a standalone YouTuber, and this was your first time competing on the popular show. Ian Hecox, as the host, was already hyping up the event with his usual mix of sarcasm and self-deprecating humor.

“Welcome to another episode of ‘You Posted That?’” Ian announced dramatically. “Today, we’ve got three contestants who are about to question their own digital footprint. Please welcome Shayne Topp, Spencer Agnew, and Y/N L/N!”

The small audience on set cheered, and you waved nervously. Spencer, seated next to you, leaned over. “You’re going down,” he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Big words from someone whose tweets are probably all queerbaiting jokes,” you shot back, earning a laugh from Shayne.

“Let’s get started with Round One: ‘You Posted That?’” Ian said with the same exaggerated cadence. “Here’s how it works: we’ll show you one of your posts with a few keywords blanked out. If you can guess the missing words correctly, you get five points. If not, zero points. Got it?”

The first round began with Spencer. The tweet displayed read: “I've had the _____ ____ ___ stuck in my head all day, but only the part where ___ _________ says "___ _ ___ _ ______".” After laughter rang out and a few moments of squirming, it clicked and he guessed “Naked Mole Rat” "Ron Stoppable" and “can I get a booyah” Ian grinned. “Correct!” he exclaimed, as Spencer let out a celebratory “YES!”

Next up was Shayne, whose post read, “______ _____________ > Everything else” Shayne furrowed his brow. “It doesn't fit but... Raisin' Canes?” he guessed, earning howls of laughter when Ian revealed the actual tweet: “Nature Documentaries” Spencer groaned, “Next time just go outside and scream 'I'm smarter than you.”

Then it was your turn. The screen showed, “Me: 'I’m going to bed early tonight.' Also me at 2 AM: Watching _ _____ ______ _ ____ _____” After some thought, you guessed “a woman eating a live squid,” earning you a solid five points. “Weird, but correct!” Ian cheered, as Spencer gave you a playful side-eye. “Real quirky to watch mukbangs,” he muttered. "Look at the year posted!" You laughed back.

The second round of guesses brought even more chaos. Spencer’s next tweet read: “If you _____ ____ _____ while working from home alone, you are a cop” He confidently guessed “wash your hands,” but Ian burst out laughing as he revealed the true answer: “brush your teeth.” Spencer buried his face in his hands as Shayne and you doubled over.

Shayne’s second tweet was equally absurd: “there's no "I" in ____________” He guessed “Unfunny,” but the actual word, “peamupbubber,” had everyone in stitches at the duality.

When it was your turn again, Ian read out: “Why do my plants thrive but not my ______ ______? Asking for a friend.”

"To be clear, this was cute in 2016," and after some embarrassed sighs, you guessed “social life,” earning another five points. Spencer groaned. “Stop being good at this!” he joked.

Then came the final round of tweets. Spencer’s face turned pale as his last post appeared on screen. It read: “If ______ ever gave me a chance, I’d drop everything. Just saying.” The room went quieter, and all eyes turned to him.

“Oh no,” he muttered under his breath.

“Spencer,” Ian said, barely containing his grin. “Care to fill in the blanks?”

Shayne burst out laughing "Dude, don't die on this show of all of them", and you stared at Spencer, your jaw dropping. “Spencer, what is it?” you demanded, though you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up.

“It was a long time ago! Before you joined Smosh! I didn’t think it would ever come up... its Y/N.” Spencer stammered, his face turning bright red.

“Wait, so you had a little crush on me, huh?” you teased, unable to resist.

“Little is an understatement,” Shayne chimed in, wiping away tears of laughter.

“Well,” Ian said, looking at Spencer with a playful smile, “5 points!”

The room erupted into cheers as Spencer laughed it off, but the embarrassment was clear as day. You kept looking at him, trying to give him the hint, but anytime he saw your bright smile, he turned crimson.

The shoot wrapped up fairly quickly after that, with your other posts being just as recognizable to you. Being the rightful winner you walked out happily, nearly skipping back to your desk next to the games pod. You saw Spencer awkwardly approach your desks before you had a chance to sit down.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about that. I had no idea that tweet even existed anymore... it was just- I don't know. I just hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," He apologized.

You quickly rebutted, "No no not at all, Spence. It was really sweet actually. I have never told you this but I felt the same way when I first joined."

"Wait really?" Spencer looked up at you with surprise and unbelievable relief.

"Might still feel that way now. If you do too?"

"Yes! I mean, yes, I do. I never got over it."

"Your crush on me?"

"Yeah, I posted that for a reason."

[bangtanbeom]

'*•.¸undeniably yours¸.•*'

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / bonus ୨♡୧ pairing: beomgyu x femreader genre: fluff, strangers to friends to ....? , college AU, slow burn summary: you and beomgyu are partnered for a group project, the connection starts off as simple friendship. but as you share quiet moments, unspoken glances, and moments of vulnerability, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur. w/c: ~4k warnings: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor a/n: its been 10 years since i last wrote something (which was on wattpad) and actually published lol so many drafts ;-; so bear with me. i usually don't write fluff, i always leaned more to angst or smut yet here i am. i hope it's a little bit enjoyable <3

it wasn't love at first sight.

there were no sparks flying across the room, no fireworks, no swelling background music with flower petals twirling and glitters shimmering.

just a tuesday morning lecture, and a pair of tired eyes locking briefly across the room before looking back down at a notebook.

"i've assigned the partners already," the professor said, tapping his laptop. "check your emails."

you opened yours with a sigh, not expecting much. then paused.

partner: choi beomgyu

"huh?"

beomgyu? that guy who always sat in the third row by the window? who always wore those oversized hoodies, and had a habit of twirling his pen when he was deep in thought?

beomgyu. that guy with the soft brown eyes and the eternal bedhead. the one who always had a half-smile playing on his lips as your eyes met. you'd shared a few classes before, exchanged nods and awkward hellos in group discussions, but never really talked.

until now.

you agreed to meet at a nearby cafe the next day—neutral territory. the project was due in 15 weeks, and you didn't want to be the partner who slacked off. you arrived first and chose a small table by the window. you heard the soft jingle of the door and looked up just in time to see beomgyu walk in, ruffling his hair and looking around until his eyes landed on you.

he offered you a small wave, walking over with a grin. "hey."

"hey, beomgyu." you returned, sending him a kind smile.

"that's me." he slid into the chair across from you. "sorry if i'm late. i had to rescue my hoodie from my roommate's dog. he thinks it's his now."

you laughed before you could stop yourself. "did you win the battle?"

"barely. this is a peace offering," he said, holding up a slightly crumpled banana milk. "also, i brought you one. it's not coffee, but it's got charm."

you blinked, surprised. "you brought me one?"

"figured i should start off as a decent partner," he said with a casual shrug. "if you hate banana milk, i'll take it back and cry about it later."

"i like it," you chuckled softly and sent him a smile. "thanks."

your first meeting was mostly small talk and note-sharing. beomgyu was surprisingly organized, though he admitted he did most of his work at 2 a.m.

"that's when i'm the most powerful." he said with a mock serious face, earning a laugh from you.

both of you got to work quickly—organizing tasks, dividing responsibilities, setting deadlines. it was professional. efficient. but something about the way beomgyu spoke—soft and easy, laced with dry humor—made you feel oddly comfortable.

he wasn't trying hard. he didn't have to.

but what struck you the most was how easily he listened as much as he talked. he wasn't just nodding along. he remembered things, like how you preferred tea over coffee, or that you hated typing on your laptop without music playing.

by the end of that first meeting, you'd laughed more than you had all week. that was the first moment you realized he wasn't what you expected. not just the class clown or the guy who wore headphones walking down the hallway.

thoughtful, a little odd and disarming in a weirdly comforting way.

the collaboration soon settled into a comfortable rhythm. study sessions alternated between the library, the cafe, and occasionally, each other's homes. each meeting, their conversations began to drift beyond the confines of their project.

both sitting on the floor of beomgyu's living room, while his roommate was away and surrounded by open books and notes, beomgyu strummed his guitar absentmindedly.

"you play?" you asked, nodding towards the instrument.

he glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. "a little. it's more of a hobby."

"can i hear something?"

he hesitated for a moment, his fingers softly grazing the strings. "alright, but no judging."

you nodded and his fingers danced over the strings, producing a soft melody that filled the room. you watched, captivated by the way he immersed himself in the music. as the final note lingered, you clapped softly.

"wow," you said under your breath, afraid to break the silence. "that was beautiful."

beomgyu's ears turned pink, luckily for him, his hair covered most of his ears. "thanks. it's just something i do to unwind."

"do you write your own songs?"

"sometimes," he admitted. "mostly when i can't sleep."

you leaned forward, intrigued. "i'd love to hear one sometime."

he met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "maybe one day."

"so, tell me something weird about you." beomgyu said as he was scrolling uninterestedly through his phone.

beomgyu was sitting on the couch, leaning with his back against the arm rest and his feet resting on your lap.

you looked up from your phone, turning your head to him as you raised an eyebrow. "weird how?"

he shrugged casually, putting his phone down, meeting your gaze. "like... you eat cereal with water, or you sing to your houseplants. something unexpected."

you grinned. "okay. i have this very serious superstition that i have to wear mismatched socks on exam days."

beomgyu blinked. "you... what?"

"they bring me luck!" you quickly defended yourself, but couldn't help but laugh a little.

"that's extremely specific. i like it." he said, his fingers touching his chin as he nodded.

"your turn," you challenged.

he thought for a moment. "sometimes i talk to my laundry."

you frowned your eyebrows before you burst out laughing. "your laundry?"

"yeah, like if i'm folding a shirt and it refuses to cooperate, i'll scold them, or just yell at them."

you clutched your stomach, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "you are—wow." before you could finish your sentence, you began to laugh even harder.

he was now reenacting the scene.

"i'm never looking at laundry the same again." you said, trying to stop yourself from laughing.

beomgyu was effortlessly funny, the kind of person who could make you laugh without even trying. he'd mimic professors, come up with ridiculous nicknames, or read lines from their textbook in dramatic accents just to see you smile.

"wait, you've never watched spirited away?" beomgyu asked one evening, scandalized. "we need to fix that. immediately."

"i just never got around to it," you defended. "you're making it sound like i committed a crime."

"you kind of did." he grinned. "movie night. right now."

you rolled your eyes, but your lips slowly curved into a smile, betraying you. "fine. but i'm picking snacks."

the group project finished early. neither of you mentioned it, but you kept meeting up anyway.

it was the little things that began to chip away at the wall around your heart. the way he'd always wait for you outside class, even when it wasn't necessary.

how he remembered your favorite drink and brought it to study sessions without asking. the way he looked at you when you laughed—like you were something he'd been waiting to see bloom.

and it was how he didn't rush it.

even when your fingers brushed for a second too long, or when you stood closer than necessary, or when the silence stretched a little too comfortable—beomgyu never pushed.

he just let it happen, slowly, unforced, easy.

after a particularly grueling study session, both of you decided to take a break. the city lights shimmered as you wandered through the quiet streets, hands tucked into both of your pockets as the hot summer came to an end and the rainy fall was approaching.

"do you ever feel like you're going through the motions?" beomgyu asked, his breath visible in the cold air.

you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden introspection. "sometimes. university can feel like that. but then there are moments that remind me why i'm here."

"like what?"

you thought for a moment. "like this. walking through the city, just talking. it makes everything feel... real."

he smiled softly. "yeah..."

you walk in silence for a while, the distance between you two narrowing with each step. his shoulder brushed yours once, then again, but neither of you moved away.

you found yourself on beomgyu’s couch as the rain pattered against the window, a classic film playing on the tv. you curled up with a blanket, while beomgyu sat beside you, your shoulders touching.

the room smelled faintly of buttered popcorn and cinnamon tea.

beomgyu had taken over the popcorn bowl, cradling it like some priceless artifact in his lap. he was deeply focused on it. more so than the movie, picking through the pieces like a kid separating marshmallows from cereal.

you arched a brow. "are you seriously removing all the unpopped kernels?"

beomgyu didn't even glance up. "yes. they're a menace. one wrong bite and it's over. i have sensitive molars."

you laughed and shook your head slightly. "you're so dramatic."

"i'm a victim of snack sabotage," he said with a solemn nod. "you wouldn't understand."

he looked up then— eyes shining, lips curled in that typical lazy grin of his—and you blinked, caught off guard by how different he looked like that, handsome even. like summer even though it was raining. like something warm even though the windows fogged with the cold.

you shook your head and grabbed a handful of popcorn from his 'safe pile.'

"thief," he accused, his lips slightly parted as his eyes followed your hand full of his popcorn.

"you owe me for picking the movie," you said casually through a mouthful.

"which, by the way, was way too sad." he responded witty , looking down at his safe pile that was looking much smaller now, a pout growing on his lips.

"hey. you voted for it!" you said defensively.

"i was tricked."

"you literally said—and i quote—'that one has cool vibes.'"

beomgyu gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "i did not sound like that."

"oh you did."

the laughter bounced around the room like the rain outside, soft and constant. the movie flickered on, mostly forgotten now, serving as a backdrop to something that felt... safe.

beomgyu leaned back on the couch, stretching until his arm rested casually along the back, his fingers inches from your shoulder. not touching. almost.

you pretended to focus on the screen, but you couldn't help but notice how close he was. how normal it felt.

how not-normal that normal felt.

when did it become this easy to be around him? when did he start looking like that?

beomgyu glanced over at you just then, mid-thought, and you caught him. his hand twitched like he might move it closer—then didn't

he grinned instead. "you've got popcorn salt on your cheek."

you blinked. "i do not."

"you do."

you tried wiping your face with the back of your hand.

"nope, other side."

you tried again. he squinted dramatically.

"closer," he teased. "warmer... almost... oh no. now it's smeared."

"seriously?"

he leaned in then, brushing his thumb lightly across your cheekbone. just a second. just enough.

"got it."

you froze. not from the touch, exactly—but from how something about it lodged itself under your ribs and stayed there.

that shouldn't have felt like anything, you told yourself.

but it had.

beomgyu didn't move away immediately. he looked at you, eyes scanning like he was trying to solve a puzzle. like he was trying to read you.

he wasn't smiling anymore, not really. it wasn't serious, but it wasn't just playful anymore.

why do i keep noticing the way she looks at me? why does her laugh sound like something i want to hear first thing in the morning?

that moment hung there—brief, silent, almost something.

the you grabbed a pillow and whacked him, maybe a little too hard.

"okay that was dramatic. you made it a whole moment."

he barked out a laugh, delighted, instantly recovering, his head tilted to the side. "i was being helpful! you're lucky i didn't use a napkin like an old man."

you narrowed your eyes. "you definitely would've done the whole spit-on-the-thumb thing, huh?"

beomgyu gasped. "do i look like a mom at a school drop-off?"

you looked him up and down pointedly. "you do own a cardigan that says otherwise."

he placed a hand to his chest, fake-offended. "that cardigan is a fashion statement."

"it's a threat to society."

he snatched a handful of popcorn and launched a piece at you. it bounced of your blanket.

"you're just jealous," he muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you wish you looked that cozy."

"i do look cozy," you said smugly, hugging the bowl to your chest now like it was a trophy. "and now this popcorn's mine."

"oh you think i'm gonna let that slide?" he said inching closer.

you tightened your grip. "don't test me."

your eyes locked in mock-serious challenge. then, without warning, beomgyu lunged. both wrestling over the bowl like two kids at a sleepover, laughing so hard, barely holding it together.

limbs tangled, the blanket twisted, and somewhere in the chaos, your hand ended up resting against his chest, and his leg slid beside yours, warm and solid.

both of you froze—not on purpose, but as if something instinctual told you this was different. the laughter trailed off in small, breathless remnants, but neither of you moved right away.

you looked up, realizing how close you were. his hair was a little messy now. he was smiling—but softer. not his usual teasing, lazy grin.

your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his hoodie before you pulled them back.

beomgyu didn't say anything. he just shifted onto his elbow, resting his head in his hand, watching you as you sat up and set the popcorn down beside the couch.

the room was still. not awkward nor heavy. just full of something unspoken.

you turned towards the screen, tucking your legs underneath you again.

"you're not so bad for a popcorn snob." you said lightly, not looking at him.

"thanks," he replied, his voice softer now. "you're not so bad for a popcorn thief."

the both of you sat in silence again, this time more aware of it. more aware of each other.

it was supposed to be a quick study session. an hour, maybe two. just enough to finalize the concept sketches and finish your part of the layout. you'd done most of the work already—beomgyu had helped a lot more than you expected him to, even stayed up late editing the small mistakes you made when you were too tired to keep your eyes open.

so when he texted you that afternoon—

"you free to review the last presentation slides? i promise i'll bring snacks + my charming presence."

—you'd rolled your eyes and typed short yes.

unfortunately, the rainy season wasn't over yet. today the rain started like a whisper, then turned into a roar.

it poured down so hard, you could barely see the street from your window.

thirty minutes later, he was standing in your doorway,

drenched.

like fully soaked. hair flat. hoodie sticking to his arms. his sneakers squelched when he stepped inside.

he looked half amused, half miserable.

you blinked, your eyes traveling over him from head to toe. "did you walk here?"

beomgyu nodded, blinking rain from his lashes. "i was halfway when the sky opened up."

"why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"i was trying to be dramatic."

you stared at him.

he smiled sheepishly. "also... i forgot."

you sighed, shaking your head, already turning to grab a towel.

he wasn't planning on getting caught in a storm, but maybe, deep down, he wanted an excuse to stay longer.

the professor gave the class another project, but you both finished it, mostly.

but that wasn't the reason he'd wanted to come over.

he liked your apartment. the plants in teacups. the art prints taped to the walls instead of framed. your weird little snack drawer organized by mood. it all felt warm, like you lived in comfort space, like you weren't trying to impress anyone.

and he liked your company, though he was still figuring out what to do with those thoughts about you that kept popping occasionally.

he liked the way your mind worked. the way you made things feel calm yet entertaining.

so yeah, he walked through the storm. and maybe he didn't care.

"guess i'm stranded." he said as you returned, holding a towel and a worn grey sweatshirt in your arms.

you tossed both at his chest.

"you're lucky i'm nice." you muttered, turning around, back to the living room.

he caught the sweatshirt midair and laughed, peeling off his soaked hoodie. "no, i'm lucky it's you."

you didn't answer him. you didn't want to read too much into it. beomgyu said things like that. he flirted for fun.

but your heart noticed.

he also didn't usually look at you like that.

you tried to ignore the way your heart sped up when he pulled your sweatshirt over his head. it looked better on him than it did on you, of course. and something about seeing him in it made the room feel smaller. closer.

you turned away and focused on making tea.

the rain hadn't stopped. it got heavier.

by that time, you both ended up on the couch under the blankets, the storm had turned the apartment into a little cave—safe, warm, cut off from everything else.

the tea steamed gently on the table. the movie played, but neither of you were paying attention. you sat shoulder to shoulder, legs tucked up, knees barely touching.

and still, you could feel him. every little shift. every glance.

you saw him look at you once. then again. and a third time.

"hey," he said, eyes on the screen, voice barely above a whisper.

you turned your head slightly. "hm?"

"i'm really glad we got partnered together." he said referring to early spring.

he wasn't sure why he said it. but he did.

thump, thump.

you weren't sure why your heart was speaking before your mind could process everything.

maybe for him, it was because the rain softened everything. maybe it was because the blanket was warm and you were warm and something about being near you made everything easier.

but he meant it.

he didn't look at you, his gaze still glued to the tv. still, he felt you turn slightly towards you.

"me too," you said, and there was a smile.

that did something to his chest, a tiny smile growing on his face.

"you know, i used to think you were kind of quiet," he said, trying to keep his tone light. you raised a brow. "but you're actually... kind of weird."

you elbowed him softly. "what... thanks, i guess?"

beomgyu grinned. "no like... you say weird stuff. the thing with your mismatched socks, talking to your plants like they're your babies. your enormous snacks collection based on your mood. but it's cool. it's interesting."

you didn't say anything, more like not knowing what to say. so you just looked at him.

your eyes, soft, kind. more than words ever could.

"your sweatshirt smells like you," he murmured, completely out of nowhere. "like laundry and cinnamon."

your heart flipped.

"that was almost romantic," you teased, pretending to be unbothered by your heart, almost jumping out of your ribcage.

he reached for his tea, brushing your hand in the process. sipping from his mug, his eyebrows dancing. "almost?"

"try harder next time."

he laughed, but his heart stuttered, ‘next time?’ he thought to himself. why did i even say that. hiding his thoughts behind a smile.

from his perspective, you didn't seem to mind, you didn't make it weird. thankfully

the thunder cracked louder now, rattling the windowpane.

you checked the forecast on your phone and frowned. "yeah you're not going anywhere."

beomgyu looked up from where he had flopped dramatically across your couch, his hair still slightly damp and sticking to his forehead.

"tragic," he said, voice dry. "guess i'll have to endure your tea and fluffy blankets a little longer."

you gave him a look. "endure?"

he looked at you with his usual playful grin, hugging a throw pillow like it was a long-lost pet. "okay, luxuriate inn. happy?"

"ecstatic," you said, tossing him a second pillow to the face.

he caught it swiftly and immediately started building a pillow wall between you. "this is for my safety."

"from what?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

"you. you're feisty when sleep-deprived. remember your mood last week."

"you literally tried to eat expired instant noodles last week."

"and i survived, didn't i?" he said proudly and had a smug smirk on his face.

"barely."

"i am a man of mystery. i live on the edge."

"you live on convenience store snacks." you said and rolled your eyes. you pushed yourself off from the couch and his attention was now on you.

"you want me to grab something to sleep in?" you asked, voice soft with sleep.

he gave you a thumbs up from under the pillow fortress.

you came back with a pajama pants covered in tiny frogs, dropping it on his lap.

beomgyu's eyes lit up as he noticed the frogs. "i bet i'll still look handsome in this." his tone layered with confidence.

you rolled your eyes and shook your head slightly.

"whatever. i'm going to bed." you said after grabbing him a couple more blankets, since it was getting colder.

beomgyu nodded and prepared the couch to a comfortable bed.

"goodnight frog boy," you mumbled as you were walking towards your bedroom.

"goodnight popcorn thief." he said back. he was already laying comfortable, under the blankets and pillows.

the morning sunlight crept through the clouds, pale and hesitant casting a soft glow. the storm had finally passed.

you stirred awake to the faint clink of dishes and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing.

beomgyu.

you blinked a few times, sitting up slowly. your hair was a wild mess around your face. a yawn escaped from your lips and you pushed yourself up from your bed.

you padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes. "what are you doing?"

beomgyu turned around, spoon in his mouth and a box of cereal tucked under his arm like a prized possession. his hair was fluffy now, dry but still unbrushed, sticking up like he'd rolled straight from the couch into the pantry.

he pulled the spoon out and shrugged. "breakfast obviously."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "you have your own place."

"you don't have plain boring cornflakes," he said, lifting the box of choco rings slightly like it was a trophy. "you have joy."

you sighed, but your lips curved upward. "help yourself, i guess."

"oh i have been," he said with a playful wink, already reaching for a second bowl from the shelf.

the next ten minutes were filled with quiet munching and the soft sound of the morning news on low volume in the background. beomgyu sat across from you at the small kitchen table, still wearing the frog pants you'd given him the night before, like they were the peak of fashion.

"you've got milk on your chin," you said, half-smiling as you pount at him with your spoon.

beomgyu blinked, swiping at the wrong side of his face. you rolled your eyes, leaned over the table and wiped it with the corner of your sleeve.

he froze—just for a second. the kind of pause that hung in the air a beat too long. you felt it too, the sudden silence stretching between you.

"thanks." he said softy, eyes lingering on yours a little longer than usual.

you nodded, quickly looking down at your cereal. the clink of your spoon against the bowl suddenly felt too loud.

after a moment, he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head toward the window. "the sun's finally out," he said, his voice light again. "i was starting to think we'd be stuck in a tragic indie film forever."

you snorted. "you'd love that though."

he smirked. "depends. do i get the girl in the end?"

huh?

you stared at him—just a second too long. an unreadable expression on your face.

but your heart knew what was behind that expression, even if your mind was in denial.

he looked back, like he was trying to read something in your face. then he blinked and grinned, brushing it off like it was a joke. "kidding. unless you think i'd make a good male lead."

his usual teasing tone was evident in his voice.

you laughed, shaking your head. "you'd definitely cry at your own monologue."

"and steal the show," he said, eyebrows dancing, popping the last choco ring into his mouth.

you watched him, the sun catching his hair now, and something soft settled in your chest—warm and confusing.

"what?" he asked, catching your gaze.

"nothing." you said quickly. "just... your hair looks ridiculous."

"you say that like it's not my brand. and it's called trendy." he said and sent you a wink playfully, a light-hearted joke.

but why did my heart take it seriously?

© bangtanbeom 2025

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 3— Fool.

a/n: welcome back to the Be My Baby series! Sorry y'all, I left with some with friends and it went on waaaaay longer than I thought it would lol. I'm gonna break this chapter up into 2 parts so I can get it posted tonight. So an extra chapter will be added!! Chapter 4 will just be the part 2 of this one, and after that it'll be back on schedule. Oh and don't worry— chapter 4 will be out tomorrow btw!! that's where the big boy angst comes on. so y'all are safe until then. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this again, lol. I will later & edit any details that need touching up. Again sorry this is late, but I hope getting part two and the Keira fic tomorrow will make up for it haha.)

content: sick!Reader, caretaker!Leah, straight up no smut (CRAZY I KNOOOOOW), mostly fluff, and some angst.

warnings: talks of not hydrating & eating properly, the flu, A&E/ER, confusion caused by sickness

synopsis: You wake up sick and you call the only person you can think of for help.

word count: 3.0k

Series Masterlist: here.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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The sound of your alarm doesn’t jolt you awake this morning. You’re already lying wide awake before it rolls around this time. You’d woken up early and your mind drifted to Leah, your whole situation together, barca, and the inevitable moment when they all come crashing together like a high speed train accident. Is it severely toxic and self destructive? Oh for sure…but who’s gonna stop you?

You stretch out your limbs as you set up in bed, turning off your alarm as you settle back into your own skin. There’s a rolling storm of anxiety filling your gut, and as your feet touch the ground it flies up to your throat. You run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet in time, emptying out your stomach contents. Which at the moment is just your bile. The sweating must’ve started when you were in bed; because you quickly notice the dampness of your shirt from the temperature drop in the bathroom. The cold tiles seep through Leah’s sweats and chill your body down. You shiver after a few minutes, staying seated on the floor as you take a moment to catch your breath.

You make quick work of going to grab your phone and sending your boss a quick message. As soon as it's sent you make your way to the shower. It's only when you bend down to take your pants off that you realize how sick you truly are. Your vision goes blurry and your head starts floating in and out of dizziness. You slowly lower your body, your hands making contact with the floor as you set yourself down. It's then that the headache starts— like your brain is pounding against your forehead on repeat. It's sharp and never ending, leaving you to crumble down into tears.

You don't have a car, and even if you did— you are in no state to operate a vehicle right now, and you definitely don't feel confident enough to order a taxi like this. So you are left with one option. One you know you're gonna regret when you're not sick and delusional, but it's the one thing your broken mind can think of…You call Leah. You crawl across the tiled floor and get your phone off the counter, dialing her number as you pray she picks up. And of course she does, because by the third ring her voice is greeting you through the speakers. "I knew you couldn't resist me, darling. I've just been wait—"

"Le…" you cut her off with a sob of her nickname. Your head is painfully throbbing now, and your mouth is so dry your throat is scratchy. She can tell just from the small amount of your voice she hears.

"y/n, hey— what's wrong? I'm on my way, alright? I'll be there soon, just stay on the phone with me," Leah's moving before the first word even leaves her mouth. She's leaving her breakfast on the table as she slips mismatching shoes on her feet. Running out of her flat with nothing but her keys and her phone in her hands.

"Something's wrong, Le. I'm sick and I-I..I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call," your voice breaks at the end. It's like a knife plunging into Leah's heart as she hears it; the absolute brokenness of your words. She knows there's a deeper meaning behind your them, but she won't push it. Leah knows any of the girls would come to help you in a heartbeat, so what's got you believing otherwise? Or maybe the better question is, who has you believing otherwise? She'll investigate that later.

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're alright, love. Take a deep breath for me, okay? I'll be there before you know it, and we'll get you to the doctor," Leah's voice would normally calm you down, but your brain is still running a million miles per minute…and it's only making you feel worse. It's like you can't focus on a singular thought, and the confusion only fuels your distress. Leah presses down on the gas pedal when she doesn't get a response from you. She can only hear your cries filling up the empty space of her car. She gets to your building in record time, and only then does she realize she didn't bring her wallet.

"God dammit," she chastises herself under her breath, trying to not let you hear her frustration as she searches for a on-street parking spot. She just had to forget you live in a fancy ass building with paid parking, today of all days. "I'm parking now, love. I'll be up in a few minutes." Thankfully she gets one across the street, rummaging through her center console for some change coins. She puts way more than needed in the parking meter, but that's not her main priority right now. "I need you tell me if the door's unlocked, okay? I know you don't feel well, but can you unlock it if it is?"

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath, gathering all your mental strength to answer her. "N-No. There's a key under t-the welcome mat though…I don't think I can walk by myself. I-I'm so sorry, Leah," you can't stop the embarrassment from filling your body. You hate having to ask people for help— especially when you need it the most. It makes you feel weak, helpless, and like a burden. It's a deep seated insecurity you can't seem to shake, but it's not like you've really ever tried to correct it. We all know Leah's stubborn, but you? You can be even worse than her. It's not like you mean to be, but you're just…broken. In more ways than even you would like to admit.

Leah sees right through it though— she always has. She is the one person in your life that sees you for who you are. Not the persona you put up for the rest of the world. You two may of only spent a short time together that year ago, but oh what an impact it made. Spending every waking second with a person for weeks on end does something to a person. You either ending up hating each other, falling in love, or whatever the fuck you two got going on.

"You don't need to be sorry, y/n. You definitely need a better hiding spot for your spare though, that's just bloody awful! You're asking for a break in!" Leah feels herself get a little frustrated as she retrieves your key. Her voice picking up into a scolding tone as she jiggles with your doorknob. You whimper out as you move the phone from your ear, the slight rise in her voice making your head hurt more. "Too loud," you say as she walks into your home. She makes sure to shut the door lightly, before smacking herself in the forehead for raising her voice with you. "I'm sorry, love. I just worry about you. Now which room are you in?"

"My bathroom," your voice sounds so small now. Like a child getting in trouble.

"I'm on my way to you now, okay?" Leah says as she climbs the stairs. Her eyes flit over your walls and she notices the lack of pictures. You have bare hallways and they look so, so lonely. She walks into your bedroom and she sees the void of no decor or really any of your things at all. It makes her sad, but mostly it leaves her wanting to ask more questions. Questions she knows she can't ask right now, but will get the answers to someway.

Nothing could have prepared Leah for what she sees behind the wooden door of your bathroom. You're clad in a mist of sweat, all the color drained from your face, and you're shaking like a leaf. It isn't until she's running up to you and falling to her knees that she sees the extent of your state. Your pants are still sitting halfway down your thighs, and Leah quickly moves to redress you. She makes sure not to look at you inappropriately, only doing what's needed to get you comfortable and less exposed. She knows how vulnerable you are right now, and she's doing everything she can to make sure you're okay. She sheds her Arsenal hoodie off, sliding it over your head as she encourages you to push your arms through.

“Hey love, let’s get you stood up– that’s it.” She helps you get to your feet, letting you lean all your body weight onto her. Leah guides you back towards your bed, sitting you on the edge as she goes to grab a pair of your shoes. It doesn't take her long before she's rejoining you and sliding some slip-ons over your feet. she pats your legs when she's down, looking up to see your disheveled appearance. "You ready to go?"

"Mhm," you nod your head along. Talking is only making your headache worse, so you've opted for noises instead.

With that, Leah is helping you back up. But before you can rest your weight back onto her side, she's picking you up bridal style. Your arms instinctively go to wrap around her neck, burying your face in the warmth of her embrace. You don't have the energy to argue with her, and honestly it's a relief to not have to walk right now. She carries you like you weigh nothing, shutting and locking your door like she isn't holding an entire human being. If you didn't feel like death you'd be obsessing over how hot she is, but right now you're just thankful.

You must've fallen asleep, because the next thing you know you're waking up in a A&E bed. You blink a few times to adjust to the lights above you, small groans slipping out as you try to stretch the cramped feeling out of your limbs. Then you hear her softly speaking on the phone across the room, and you go back to lying still. You close your eyes as you focus on trying to hear her conversation. "I know I should've called first, but you didn't see her. She couldn't even stand on her own, and she fell asleep in my arms before we even made it to her building elevator! She's in bad shape, and I'm not just gonna leave her here all alone in a country she doesn't fucking know. I'm the Captain and it's my responsibility to look after everyone— I don't fucking care that she's not a player! She's on our team, our crew, and she deserves our support. Call me back when you get your head out of your ass," and with that she hangs up.

You try and force yourself to just back to sleep and forget everything you've heard, but of course that's not how things work out. Your stomach starts turning again, complicating feelings swirling around with the uneasiness. The tears come falling down your cheeks before your eyes even open, your chest starting to tighten up as the sobs claw at your lungs to get out. It feels like you can't breathe, and honestly maybe you aren't. Not as you see flashbacks of Barca passing through your memory, a wave of dread blanketing over your body.

"What hurts, love? Do I need to get the nurse?" Leah's by your side the second she notices, a hand out grasping your forearm. Her fingers dance little patterns into your skin, and it actually starts to ground you. "Come on, take deep breaths with me again, okay?"

You nod your head, and then she's holding both your hands. You follow her lead as she sucks in a slow breath and holds it, before exhaling just as slow. She repeats the process with you until you're calmed all the way down. It doesn't take too long, but honestly Leah isn't going to leave you anytime soon anyway. "Nothing hurts," you say it so softly she barely hears it. Your eyes stay locked down onto the bed sheets below you, never making any eye contact with her.

"Then why were you crying, y/n?"

"Because I heard you on the phone…and I don't know. I guess I freaked out, and went spiraling into a self hate hole for a second. I'm okay, really."

"oh bloody hell! I'm so sorry you heard that, darling. I should've went into the hall or something—"

"It's okay, Le. I'm just sensitive, and really really delulu from whatever sickness I currently have…plus it was nice to hear you stick up for me, Captain."

"The mystery sickness is indeed just a bad case of the flu…but uhm, the doctor said it was made worse from you being dehydrated and probably not eating enough from the looks of your blood work. I'm not gonna judge you or yell at you. But I am taking you home with me when they discharge you. I'm your official caregiver until you're well enough to take after yourself again," Leah doesn't let go of your hand as she says it. She tries to connect your gazes, but you don't allow it. Actively avoiding her eyes as you feel them burrowing holes into your skull.

You wish you could argue with her and tell her she's wrong…but you can't. You've been skipping out on meals ever since you moved here. It's not been on purpose, you just haven't been able to eat. It's like your body hates the idea of eating, always growing nauseous after every few bites. So you've been drinking some meal replacements…not enough apparently. "Okay."

"…Okay? Really? That was a whole lot easier than I thought it would be," Leah is staring at you with her biggest look of, 'be so for real, bitch' written across her face. But you just shrug as you sink back into the uncomfortable mattress underneath you. You're so mentally and physically wore out right now, there's just no fight left inside you. Right as you're about to re-close your eyes, the doctor finally comes back in. After getting the run down from him, he lets you know that you can be discharged and to pick up your antibiotics before going home. Leah helps you redress again, and this time it has you giggling at the way she makes her eyes go anywhere but at your naked body.

"Hold on…how'd you get the doctor to tell you what was wrong with me before I even woke up? Aren't there some rules against that?"

"…I might have told everyone that you're my fiancé," Leah smiles at you nervously.

"Fuck you, Williamson! Take yourself on that date Thursday!"

"Oh, so you're finally agreeing that it's a date?" Leah smirks at you, only hearing the parts of what she wants to hear.

"Well, I guess we'll never know, now will we?"

She rolls her eyes at you for that, holding her hand out for you to take. And you do, still leaning against her some to walk. She helps you to the car, and once you're both secure she's driving you to your new home for the next few days…or weeks. God you hope only days. It feels weird to be back inside a house with another person, and it's extra fucking weird that it's Leah. You know this stay is when you have to put down some boundaries with her. To stop whatever there is between the two of you. It makes the previous pit in your stomach increase by double, because deep down you know you care about her...you're just lying to yourself about it. You can push every feeling down your throat, but they will all come spilling out at some point. That's what you've learned to be true over the years, but will you accept that as truth? Hell no! At least not anytime soon. Your worst problem is that you always get in your own way.

When she finally gets you inside, Leah starts cooking and letting her mind wonder to think of you. More importantly to the phone call you overheard in the A&E. She'd been talking with her manager, and completely snapped on him. He'd said something about how Leah 'follows you around like a lost puppy' and well…. it hurt her fucking feelings. Of course she isn't doing all of this just because she's one sided sickly in love with you…right? Sure she thinks of you literally every second of the day, and she's been day dreaming of you for the past year, but that's all totally normal...RIGHT?

Leah doesn't get to spiral into her romanic crisis for too long, because before she knows it the timers going off. She drains the gnocchi before putting it in a bowel for you, making her way back to the living room where she left you. She laughs at the sight that greets her— you snuggled up asleep in her Arsenal hoodie she'd given you when she first saw you. Leah just sets the gnocchi aside on the coffee table, opting to cuddle you instead of waking you up. She pulls you onto her body, your face resting on her chest as she tries to adjusts you without waking you up.

She finds herself running her fingers through your hair, and before long they're running softy across the features of your face. Leah lets a deep sigh come out of her chest. She truly feels like a fucking fool. Leah doesn't chase girls— they chase her. So for the first time in this game, she is the one crying. She's clinging onto any crumb of attention you'll give her, and she'll keep doing it for as long as it takes. Leah has you sleeping against her chest once again, and it's nothing like she's day dreamed of. You two aren't confessing your feelings, running around town making memories, or god forbid actually dating…but she'll keep feeling like a fool and waiting on you. She'll keep searching for your love until she finds it, because she knows she's felt flashes of it. She knows that carefree, wild, truly happy girl from Ibiza is still inside of you somewhere. Leah doesn't know what took that extra bright sparkle out of your eyes, but she is determined to see it light up your face back up.

[ssahotchnerr]

I feel like aaron would be the type to build furniture piece you bought without asking him to like you bought a book shelf or something and you bring the box in and leave it and next thing you know he built it lol

thoughtfulness

omg stop it right now that's such an aaron thing i could cry 😭<333333 cw; FLUFF

"aaron, baby?"

''in here."

you followed the sound of aaron's voice down the hall, finding him seated on the carpet. multiple tools were scattered around, a large cardboard box thrown off to the side, and your new bookshelf, fully built, was resting against the previously empty space at the wall. piles of your books and other miscellaneous trinkets were currently surrounding aaron, and he had already begun filling up the shelves sporadically.

you blinked at him in astonishment, not expecting to return home to this in the slightest. "what's this?"

"your bookshelf." aaron put it simply, adding another novel. his gaze shifted up to yours, an eyebrow lifted in endearing concern. "this is where you said you wanted it, right? i've started putting books in already, alphabetically, but obviously you can change it to however you prefer."

utterly speechless at his gesture, you could only approach and pull him up by his shirt collar. once in more accessible reach, you didn't hesitate for a second to place your lips onto his, aaron immediately melting into your touch.

he hummed softly against your lips after a moment, a small smile forming on his face. "welcome home."

you shook your head amusingly, your hand raising to his torso and gently running your hand along his chest. "i could've built this. it wasn't lying around for you to do."

aaron waved your statement off, his hands finding your waist. "i wanted to. and i wanted to surprise you." a thoughtful sigh escaped him, voice lowering solemnly. "i know you've been busy with work lately, a bit stressed, and i know you've been looking forward to getting this set up and just haven't found the time. so the sooner the better, if you ask me."

you sobered for a moment, extremely touched by his constant kindness and tenderness, always making the effort to make you feel seen and important.

in spite of that though, a tiny laugh blew from your nose, teasingly raising an eyebrow, "says the man who has the busiest schedule imaginable."

"maybe." a breathless laugh and an playful eye roll left him, leaning in to give you yet another kiss. "but never too busy for you darling."

"they broke the mold with you, aaron hotchner. thank you." you sighed happily, still in awe, your hand cupping his cheek. but you quickly switched tactics, grabbing onto his hand and dragging him back onto the carpet excitedly. "now c'mon! alphabetical is a good strategy to sort by, but-"

as you ventured off, talking about your bookshelf plans - seasonal candles to be placed on top according to the season, squealing in delight when you found a favorite read, giving him brief summaries on what a book's plot consisted of, or novels the two of you should read together - aaron could only look at you affectionately, admiring you as he listened, a small smile on his face.

you were simply radiating, and he couldn't get enough.

part 2 -> finishing touches —smut minors dni

[thoughtidtry]

Dress Pt.2 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. 2.6k+ words (Honestly thought it would be shorter lol) LMK in the comments if you would like a pt.3! Part: 1 2 3

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try."

From the moment you were in Lando's arms, he never let go more than he had to. While showing you around the McLaren garage he made sure to guide you through with slight touches or nudges in the right direction. You knew there was no way he was letting you out of his sight. With his hand placed firmly on the small of your back, he explained every corner of the garage in painstaking detail while knowing you probably didn't really care. Something about the way you attentively listen though made it seem like you hung on his every word. 

Really, you had just missed his voice. Phone calls could only do so much to make up for the distance between you two. It had been something you both had gotten used to over time. Now you didn't know if you could ever go back to not being beside him. The hours before the race started passed faster than you had hoped they would. Something just clicked when you were together like you had never been apart in the first place. 

Soon you watched from the side as Lando talked with the engineers and strategists about the race plan. You had seen him in racing attire before, back in secondary school, but the memory did not prepare you for just how good he looked. He couldn't stop smiling, not when he felt your gaze on his every move. After he had finished talking to everyone, he made his way back over to you with a headset in hand. 

"Here let me put this on you, it connects to the radio in my car so you can hear me during the race."

You nodded along in understanding as he placed the headset on your head and fixed it to the correct settings. Earlier, Lando had told you they recently made upgrades to the car and that it would be the first race to test them. This made you hopeful for the results of the race, you knew how much Lando wanted a win. The excitement of everyone in the garage could be felt as they made final preparations.

"You're gonna do great Lan, I just know it."

You beamed up at him with the widest smile possible. Lando couldn't help but smirk a bit letting your confidence boost his own. He reached to stroke your cheek as he spoke.

" Of course I will, I've got you here to cheer me on. I always do better when I know you're watching the race. Just imagine how I'll do today with you actually here."

You look away feeling yourself start to blush while trying to figure out how to respond to that. Luckily, Lando's name was called as the race was about to start. Quickly, you stand and swiftly peck his cheek whispering good luck in his ear before pushing him towards the calling engineers. He looked back, shaking his head a bit before jogging to put his helmet and other stuff on.

"My hands are shaking from holding back from you"

Watching a race in person was exhilarating for you. The energy in the garage made every turn, overtake, and pit stop more suspenseful. Getting to hear Lando’s voice through it all made the race even more real. He hadn’t had a good start to the race but was quickly making up for it by getting the fastest lap multiple times. 

A crash happened towards the back of the race resulting in a safety car being put onto the track. Lando had already passed the pit when the car was released, giving him an edge. Once the race started again his engineer was avid about keeping a gap between him and Max. As the final laps dwindled, you felt overcome with hope. This could be it, Lando’s first win. 

As Lando crossed the finish line you heard his cheers over the radio. The joy and relief was evident as you knew how long he had waited for this. 

One of the mechanics was kind enough to escort you over to where the winners would park their cars. The whole McLaren garage ended up walking together to the spots. Once you all arrived, you slipped a bit away. As much as this was Lando’s win it was theirs and they didn’t need some random girl in the middle of their celebration. 

You watch from your spot as Lando pulls up and stands on the top of his cars. The crowd was cheering his name and many drivers made a beeline for him after parking their own cars. It was clear how loved he was not only by his own team but by everyone here. His large smile would forever be etched into your mind as he received hugs from everyone and even started a crowd surf with the McLaren employees. Your hand were shaking with all the excitement built up in your system. 

Everything was perfect, at least you thought so, but you noticed Lando kept looking around. Was there a specific driver he was looking for or some important person? 

Lando was on cloud nine getting out of his car parked in P1. He was a race winner after so long fighting for this moment it felt right to have you here. He wanted to find you and celebrate as soon as possible. 

As all the drivers came up to him he wanted to soak in the moment but he just kept looking around for you. Were you still at the garage? Turning to see the McLaren team waiting behind the barrier he knew what they were waiting for. 

Starting at a full sprint he launched himself into their awaiting arms. It was then on top of his teammate he caught a glimpse of you off to the side with a smile as bright as the sun.  As soon as he was back on his feet he was making his way to you. 

When Lando’s eyes found you it was like time stopped for a few moments. Before you knew it he was headed straight for you. He crashed into you, wrapping you up in a bone-crushing hug while lifting you off your feet. You squeal a bit as he begins to spin you both around before tilting your head back to laugh. 

“You did it Lan! You won!”

Lando set you back on the ground as you started to speak. He could see the spark of joy in your eyes as you spoke. 

“Told you I’d do better with you here”

Lando exclaimed, smirking as he looked down at you in admiration. 

“Knowing you were cheering for me made all the difference. I couldn’t disappoint you after you came all this way.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, he could never disappoint you. It didn’t matter to you whether he came in first or very last place as long as he was happy. Before you could tell him that a staff member came up to grab Lando for his post win interviews. He nodded to let them know he was on his way and let you know he’d be only about half an hour. Calling another McLaren mechanic over, he asked if they would see you back to his driver room after the podium till he was finished with the media. 

With that he was off and you followed the mechanic over to where the podium celebration was to be held. The ceremony was amazing as the two other drivers covered Lando head to toe in champagne. He didn’t even have a chance to open his before the other two started their assault which made you laugh. Once they had moved on to their next victim, Lando walked to the front of the podium doing his signature move to start spraying the champagne all over the crowd before spraying the other driver as well. 

"I don't want you like a best friend"

The interviews didn’t take long so Lando was back and ready to leave the paddock not long after arriving. Oscar had been sneaky when helping you book a hotel for your stay and you were apparently staying at the same place as the drivers were. 

Lando noted to thank Oscar again as he ushered you to his car stopping along the way to sign autographs and take pictures. He filled you on the plans for tonight as you drove and what time to be ready by. 

Once at the hotel, you went to your separate hotel rooms to get ready. You pulled a dress out of your suitcase packed specifically for this see Lando again. It was a beautiful purple dress that hugged the top of your torso while still being flowy. After taking a shower and getting ready you texted Lando to let him know. Turns out most of the drivers were already dressed and down in the lobby. Quickly you grabbed your clutch and made your way down.

Lando was smiling as he put his phone away after answering your text. He and a couple other drivers had finished getting dressed early so they were in the lobby while waiting for the rest. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and found all the other drive smirking at him with knowing eyes. Max was the one to speak up always most blunt when it came to feelings.

"So are you gonna tell her how you feel or are you just gonna let her go again?"

He didn't know much about your friendship with Lando but he knew the younger boy was smitten. The other drivers piled on words of encouragement and how they could tell you liked him back. The more the others added, the pinker Lando's cheeks got until he finally defended himself.

" I just don't want to lose her guys. Now shut up she is on her way down."

The other drivers chuckled while shaking their heads but they left Lando alone after that which he was thankful for. Looking around he noticed you starting to make your way over and stopped in his tracks. He hadn't forgotten how beautiful you were but in that dress, it was like you were enchanted. He knew Max was right, he wanted more from you than just a friendship, he always had. Ever since that day in secondary when he had introduced himself he had wanted more, to know you more, hear your laugh more, be near you more.

The sound of laughing gave away their location long before you saw the group. From the looks of it, they had been teasing Lando about something as his face was lightly pink. He was looking towards the ground wearing all black and a backward cap. It made you smile a bit at how flustered he seemed by whatever they had said. Only a few seconds had passed when he caught your presence.

You grew a little nervous under his gaze and began to play with the hem of your dress as you came to a stop in front of him. Looking up into his eyes, a mostly green color now, you softly whispered

"Hey, Lan."

You clear your throat while tearing your eyes away from his to speak to the whole group.

"Hey guys, everyone ready to celebrate?"

The other driver let out a cheer and Carlos showed up a moment later. Apparently, he was the last one the group was waiting on so everyone began to decide how we were getting to the club.

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off”

Once at the club the boy immediately went to grab drinks while you stayed back with the other drivers' girlfriends. Girlfriends. Something you could only wish to be. They were nice and asked many questions about how you were, what you do, and how long you have known Lando. You explained with ease the timeline that led you here. Lily was the first to speak, seeming to be a bit in shock.

"Wait, you're the mysterious best friend? The one Lando has kept hidden away like a treasured prize?"

The other girl nodded in agreement at her statement. Had Lando been too embarrassed to talk about you? You felt a bit ashamed for a moment looking down. Lily was the first to notice, adding on with a kind smile and a bit of laughter.

"Oh, no! It's not a bad thing! Trust me. He lights up anytime you even text him. It's more like he doesn't want to share you honestly. I was just surprised he finally let the princess out of her tower to be seen by the rest of us. That boy is head over heels-"

Before Lily could finish her sentence you felt an arm snake around your waist. You turned assuming it would be Lando but you had been mistaken. The man before you was taller with brown eyes and reddish-brown hair.

"Hey, wanna go dance with me beautiful?"

The man smiled as he looked you up and down. He wasn't a bad-looking guy, not as handsome as Lando though. Someone else probably would have agreed, but someone else wasn't in love with their best friend. You tried to step away as his hand on your waist just felt wrong but he was able to grab onto your arm before you were fully free.

"Oh come on, just one dance couldn't hurt. I doubt your friends would mind."

You tried to pull your arm free but his grip was firm. The panic started to set in as you looked to see where Lando was. He would help, he would always save you.

"Her friends might not mind but her boyfriend definitely will."

A familiar voice called from behind you as your head snapped toward it in relief. There he was, your Lando, he looked pissed, flanked by an annoyed-looking Max and an angry-looking Carlos. The man quickly released your arm and turned to storm off with a scoff. You stumbled back a bit before Lando caught you. With no hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist before leaning down to speak in your ear.

"Can't let you out of my sight for a minute without someone trying to steal you huh?"

Your face turned bright red as you turned to him feeling a wave of confidence. Was he jealous? The look on his face was downright murderous at least. Wrapping your own arms around his neck, you leaned up to speak in his ear.

"We both know you're the only person this dress would come off for."

Lando stood in shock for a moment as his grip tightened on your waist. It only took a moment for his lips to crash into yours. You could taste the alcohol he had been drinking and feel how tense his body was before he relaxed into the kiss. Sure, you had kissed other guys before but never had anyone kissed you with so much overwhelming passion. Breaking away from the kiss he sighed.

"How about we get out of here?"

You can only nod still thunderstruck by how passionately he had kissed you. Lando smirked at the effect he has on you while leading you over to the group of driver not far away.

"Hey guys, were gonna head out."

The drivers look in between the two of you with knowing glances and exchange goodbyes with Lando as you two start to leave. You look back and wave goodbye to everyone as Lily gives you a thumbs-up. Blush rushes to your face as you both get into the taxi with Lando giving the hotel's address. You can't help but stare at him in the moonlight. He glances down at you with a smile.

" You know I'm never letting you go, right?"

You smile up at him with love-struck eyes. At this moment you decide, you would do want ever needed to stay by his side from then on. The company you worked for has offices abroad, and you could travel if needed, you would do anything to stay like this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pt.3?

Taglist: @scarletwidow3000

[fandoms-writings]

Let Go

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader (Part 3)

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: Enough is enough. It's time to put your foot down with Bucky. You're tired of being hidden, but that means a whole new dynamic to your relationship - and a hard conversation.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY , making out, fingering, p in v sex, subby!bucky makes an appearance, Mentions of past sex acts, angst (this one is SAD for a little guys sorry), reader standing up for herself, confessions, bucky being a big ole dummy, cuss words ( I think that's it lol)

Part 1, 2 || Bucky Masterlist || Masterpost

Sorry! Can we raincheck?

Miles is down with a fever, can we reschedule?

I've got a surprise exam in the morning, I'll have to pass tonight.

The messages from your friends glared at you from your phone screen as you read them over and over. You hadn't actually opened them, they just sat in your inbox, one right after the other. 

Great. You sighed, glancing around the street corner where you were supposed to meet your friends for a night out. Your best cocktail dress clung to your hips as you shifted from heeled foot to heeled foot. You'd wanted to spend the night with your friends, finally taking a break from all the assignments and exams and responsibilities you had. 

But now, you stood alone outside the club, your uber already gone, and some guys eyeing you as they went in, giving you the wrong kind of chills. 

You huffed a breath and raised your phone back up, pulling up a number you haven't had the time to call - you were busy getting a degree - but that didn't stop him from trying to reach you. Bucky's name stared at you as your thumb hovered over the dial button. 

You took a breath to steady yourself as you pressed it and raised the phone to your ear. You hadn't seen Bucky in weeks, not that you didn't want to. You'd just been busy with classes and projects. 

And trying to get a hold over the feelings you had for him - the type of feelings you absolutely could not have for your fathers friend. 

He answered on the third ring, his voice and loud music coming through the speaker, "Hey!" 

"Hey, Buck," You couldn't help the way his voice made your heart start racing, even if he was just over the phone. "Are you busy?" 

"Not at all," His side got quieter as you heard a door slam shut, "What's going on?" 

"I was supposed to go out with some friends tonight, but they've all bailed. I was going to ask if you wanted to come out. I'm already downtown." You told him the name of the club you were standing in front of and he confirmed he knew of it. 

"I can be there in twenty minutes," He said and you could hear the smile in his voice, "Or ten if I run." 

"I'll wait inside for you," You smiled. At least you wouldn't be alone for the night and getting this dolled up wasn't a total waste of your time. 

You hung up before heading inside, letting the loud music rattle your bones as you made your way to the bar to order a drink and wait. 

~~~

The next fifteen minutes flew by faster than you thought they would've, nursing your drink and watching people dance against each other helped. But when those familiar hands landed on the bar next to you, you decided it was worth the wait. 

Bucky looked like he ran, his eyes clear and wild, his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace - though it was clear he was trying to steady it. 

"Where'd you come from?" You asked, a small smirk on your lips. 

"I was at the bar a few blocks down when you called. Started running as soon as you hung up," He said, sliding closer to your side, leaning to purr into your ear, "I've missed you." 

"Hm, have you now?" You fluttered your lashes up at him, and his smile grew.

"I have," His eyes flicked between yours then down to your lips and back up, "You've been so busy, I barely get to see you. It's a miracle I get texts back when I do."

You laughed at that, "Well sorry I'm trying to actually pass my classes with more than just C's"

He chuckled before smirking, "Did you miss me at all?" 

You let out a dramatic sigh, "A bit." 

"Ouch, only a bit, huh? Did I not make a lasting enough impression on you last time we got together?" The moment flashed in your mind - the dingy dive bar, the locked bathroom door, the cool mirror at your back, the counter under you ass, the arms holding your legs open, the way his lips felt on your neck, his hips snapping into yours - 

You pushed the memory from your mind as you felt your core go molten and your skin heat. Bucky knew as his smirk grew that he did indeed make a lasting impression, but chose not to say anything as you slid off the barstool, standing in front of him. 

"I want to dance," You downed the rest of your drink before lifting your chin at him. He chuckled before shifting out of your way, letting you lead the way to the dance floor. 

You didn't even get to take one step before a familiar voice called both of your names. Your heart dropped out of your ass and your skin turned ice as you turned to see one of Bucky's friends - one who also knew your father. 

"Sam!" Bucky smiled, clapping the other man on the shoulder, "What are you doing here?" 

"The wife wanted to have a night out dancing, and this was the spot her friends recommended, so here I am," he smiled, turning to you, "Hey you, I haven't seen you since that barbecue at your dads over the summer. How are you?" 

You pushed a smile to your lips, hoping it came across as natural as you stepped forward to give Sam a quick side hug. "Good, just needed the same thing your wife wanted - a night out." 

"I see," He glanced between you and Bucky, "So, did you two come together or. . ?" 

Your knees felt weak and you were glad you hadn't made it far from your barstool as you leaned on it for support. If Sam found out, there was no way he wouldn't tell you dad, and you dad sure as hell could never know about you and Bucky. But before you could respond, or even try to come up with something that didn't sound suspicious as fuck, Bucky's voice filled the silence. 

"No, I was walking back from the bar on 9th when I saw her standing outside," He smoothly said, putting a friendly hand on your shoulder, "She said her friends canceled so I offered to buy her a drink before she went all the way back home." 

It wasn't a total lie, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. The easy lie and simple dismissal of you two being there together, how it was just a coincidence. 

"Oh well I'm sorry," Sam looked at you with too much pity and you fought to keep your smile as you waved him off. 

"It's fine, don't worry," You took a breath, "I should probably go home though." 

"What? You just got here," Bucky argued and you shrugged. 

"My friends aren't coming, I'm not going to dance by myself." 

"Come hang out with us!" Sam exclaimed, adding a teasing, "Unless you think we're too old for you." Oh how wrong he was with that. 

"I don't want to be a bother," You said, "Really, I'll be okay." 

"No no no, c'mon," Sam got his wife's attention, pointed to you and you saw her face light up. "I think she wants to dance with you." 

"Okay, okay, I'll dance for a little bit," You laughed, following Sam to meet his wife on the floor, Bucky at your back. 

You tried to glance over your shoulder to get his attention, to convey how nervous you were - how nervous he should be, but he wasn't even looking at you anymore. His eyes were flitting around the dance floor. 

It was so easy for him to pretend nothing was happening between you two, to pretend like whatever you two had didn't exist. You fought off the uneasiness in that realization as you finally met Sam's wife on the floor and joined her in the music. Your body wasn't as fluid as it usually was when you danced, you felt stiff, but you couldn't help it. Especially not when another glance at Bucky dancing against another girl twisted your gut in ways you didn't know it could. 

Tonight was going to be a long one. 

~~~

Your feet ached in your heels as you quickly made for the exit. You needed air, you needed space, you needed to go home. 

You'd been able to stomach watching Bucky dance without you for the first couple hours - barely - but you couldn't take being ignored anymore. You didn't want him to fuck you in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see, Sam included, but you would've liked if he'd offered to dance with you like Sam and his wife did. To join the group even or, fuck, just look at you once in awhile. Maybe smile. Or wink.

Instead, he gave you a wide berth, didn't look at you once, and didn't seem interested when you excused yourself to the restroom twenty minutes ago. You hid in the stall, gathering yourself before exiting, glancing out at the group to see not one of them bothered by the long time you took, and decided it was time to go home.

Pushing open the main door, you blinked in surprise at the rain that was now pouring down, and you sighed, shutting the door and stepping as far away as you could without stepping out from under the awning. You called an uber to take you home and watched impatiently as the car icon turned down various streets to get to you. The driver wasn't far, and would only take a few minutes to arrive, and you were hoping it was enough time before someone came out looking for you. 

But when the door next to you opened, and that familiar head of cropped brown hair peered around the edge, your heart sank. Your name fell from his lips in a confused tone as he took in the way your arms were wrapped around yourself and how you were basically hiding behind the door to stay out of the way. 

"What are you doing out here?" He shut the door and stepped next to you, his elbow brushing yours. You grit your teeth at the frustration that was brewing in you, the urge to shout and yell. You weren't normally someone who lost their temper, but you were so tired. Tired of not being enough, of being alone. 

"Waiting for my ride." You refused to look at him as he stared at the side of your face and you watched the road. 

"You. . ." He hesitated, tilting his head and leaning a bit, trying to get you to look at him, "You're leaving already?" 

"Yup." At the dismissive tone in your response, he straightened himself again, but still kept staring at your goddamn face. A sigh pushed past your nostrils as you glanced at the gps again, seeing the car was only two blocks down now. Thank god. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked, following you as you stepped out from the awning and into the downpour, your dress and hair almost immediately becoming soaked through. "Or you can come over to mine, if you'd like?" 

"No, thanks." You declined, your voice beginning to strain, "I'm not in the mood to fuck you tonight." 

He flinched as if you'd hit him, but recovered as he sidled up to you again, "W-well, I've got a bottle of wine, your favorite brand, in the fridge unopened. We could have a drink and watch a movie? Or cuddle, or just talk? Whatever you'd like." 

You turned to him, surprisingly calm considering the way your chest seized and your eyes stung. His face fell as he took in the state of you, the misery lining your lashes and the anger pulling your lips thin. "Don't pretend like you actually care, James. Like whatever this is," you weakly gestured to the space between the two of you, "has ever been anything more than you wanting to fuck me," You turned back to the road, your voice dropping below a whisper, "and me letting you." 

His jaw went slack as he stumbled for words. 

A small car pulled up beside you, throwing its hazards on as the window rolled down. You leaned in, asking the driver for his name. The older man who was probably in his late sixties or early seventies introduced himself as Dominic, and after checking to make sure it matched your app, you pulled open the backseat door. 

Bucky's hand shot out to where yours rested on the car door, gently, "Wait. That's it? You're not going to talk to me about this?" 

You fought the tears in your eyes as you sniffed, turning your full attention to him. "There's nothing to talk about, James. I'm just stating how it is. I didn't ask you to come out with me just to ignore me all night, only for you to remember I exist when you want a good lay." The uber driver kept his gaze on the road, patiently waiting for you to get in, and pretended he wasn't hearing your entire conversation. You'd apologize to him once you were on your way. 

"You know why I - "

"Because of Sam," You calmly cut him off, "I know. But that doesn't mean you get to pretend that I don't exist. You wouldn't even look at me." You pulled your hand out from under his, climbing into the car. He held the door open, refusing to close it. "Close the door, James." 

"Can we please talk about this?" He begged, something you never heard him do - usually it was you begging him. You looked up at him, and you couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain or the tears that could've fallen. It was probably both. 

"What's there to talk about?" You asked, your voice raw, "There are boundaries we can't cross, James. And I'm tired of being alone." You took a breath to try and steady the shakiness out of your voice, "And I'm tired of waiting for you to notice me." 

You leaned forward and grabbed the door handle, ignoring the way Bucky's face crumpled in disbelief. You tried to pull the door, but he held it firmly open. 

"Please let go," You asked. 

He shook his head, your name slipping from his lips like a prayer, "Please."

"Let go." 

He let out a shuddered breath as he looked at his feet for a moment. You were going to say it again, when he nodded and looked up at you, sniffling. 

"Okay," He muttered, "okay." His hand fell from the door, and you watched him through the window as you pulled it shut. 

"Please go," You gently asked your driver, who gave you a pitiful look in the mirror before he nodded, putting the car in drive. You didn't look out the window again, but you knew Bucky was still there, standing in the rain, watching you pull away. 

~~~

"Thanks, Dom," You gave the driver a small smile as you opened the car door. He hadn't asked about what he'd heard while waiting for you to get in the car, or about your tears. He asked if you were alright, if you needed him to stop anywhere and get you anything. You'd smiled, declining the offer, but it had warmed your heart. 

"Of course," He turned to give you a sad smile. "If you need anything, I'll be driving all night, so I'll be around the area." 

You smiled at him, "Thank you, but I'll be fine." 

He nodded, before saying, "Hey." 

You looked at him again, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm not trying to butt in on a situation I don't know," He started, "and you can ignore anything I say once you get out of this car. Just," He took a breath as if to steady himself, "Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth. So you don't sit there and wonder years later, if shutting them out was a mistake." 

"I appreciate the advice, but," you sighed, "there's a lot of story there that I can't get into." 

"And whatever you do, is your choice. Just. . ." He took a deep breath before his eyes locked with yours, and you could see the regret and the sadness swimming in his irises. "I was that person, once. And not a day goes by where I don't wonder what life would've been like had I just listened." 

You smiled, reaching forward to pat his shoulder, "Don't let the past drag down your present," you offered him a sad smile, and he reached up to pat your fingers with his old ones, "Have a good night, Dom." 

"You as well." 

You climbed out of his car, walking to where the doorman of your building greeted you and held the door open for you. He eyed your soaked clothes and hair with concern and you waved him off. 

"Got caught in the downpour. It's headed this way, but I'm alright." You plastered on a fake smile, as you passed him. 

The elevator ride was suffocatingly silent, the only noise being the dings of the floors you passed and you spent the time removing your heels, your sore feet thankful to be flat again. The ding of your floor filled the air and the doors whirred as they slid open. You were greeted by that maroon carpet, and cream walls of the hall, the little gold detailings of the light fixtures and door handles plentiful as you passed them by, aiming for your door. 

Your keys slid in and unlocked effortlessly, and you stepped into the darkness, shutting the door behind you and locking it before you slid down to the floor. Feet pushed out in front of you, your back to the door, you sat there in the quiet stillness of your apartment. 

In the dark, Dominic's words kept ringing in your head. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

You sighed as your head fell back and thumped against the door. Deep down, you knew the old man was right. You don't have to let Bucky back in, but you should hear him out. But you knew by the way your heart constricted at just the thought of it, that you weren't ready, not yet. You needed to cool down and think and relax before that conversation.

So you stood on shaky legs and flicked on a couple lights before making your way to the bathroom. A hot bath to wash away the night and chase away the cold that was starting to bite at your bones was the best way to start. 

~~~

Nick, your doorman's voice echoed in your head as you stood at the buzzer of your door. 

There's a James Barnes here to see you. 

It'd been a couple weeks since you left him at that club downtown. Weeks of no contact, not even a text. You knew you needed to talk to him, but you didn't know if you were ready. You didn't even know what more could be said. What story he could try to spin you. 

But you remembered Dom's words from that night, and shook yourself from your stupor just in time to hear Nick calling your name through the buzzer. 

"Send him up." You hoarsely replied, "Thank you, Nick." 

"Sure thing," His voice came through the static before going quiet again. 

You took a deep breath as you looked around the apartment. It was a little messy - you hadn't really had time to clean these past few weeks with finals around the corner. Part of you wanted to rush to pick some of it up, but you knew deep down you didn't have time before Bucky knocked on your door, so you wrapped your arms around your torso and waited, trying to ignore all the awful ways your brain was coming up with for this conversation to end. 

The knock on that door couldn't come soon enough, and you had to steel yourself before pulling it open. 

Bucky honestly looked worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were prominent, his hair that was usually so well styled was unkept and in disarray. His normally well trimmed beard was longer than you'd ever seen it, though it wasn't by much. And in his hands, was a small bouquet of wildflowers. 

"Can I come in?" He asked, his voice gentle and somewhat hesitant. 

You stepped back from the door, silently holding it open for him to enter. He pressed his lips tightly together and quickly stepped in, watching as you shut and locked the door behind him. 

"I know that these won't fix anything, but I remember you talking about the flower shop two blocks over and how you really enjoyed the wildflower bouquets so I thought I'd stop on my way here to get you one - " He was rambling now, staring at the flowers in his hand as his free one came up to gently stroke some of the petals. 

You walked to the kitchen, with him blindly following you as he rambled on and on about the flowers and the specific bunch he grabbed reminded him of you and you had to push out the feelings that started to warm your chest down, down, down back into their steel box - the steel box you decided to lock them away in that night you left him at the club. 

After grabbing a small vase from the cupboard, you held your hand out for the bouquet. Your fingers entered his field of view that was still locked on those petals and his rambling tumbled to a halt before he nodded to himself. 

"Right, sorry," He gently handed them over to you and watched as you placed them in the vase and filled it with water. You'd worry about if you were really going to keep them later, and if you did, going through and properly arranging them. But right now, you had an important talk waiting to happen. And the sooner it was over, the better. 

"What do you want, Bucky?" You asked, pushing the vase away from the edge of the counter and looking up at him. 

"I was hoping we could talk." 

"I have nothing more to say to you." You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your hip against the counter, eyeing him as he stepped up to the other side, resting his hands against the fake marble. 

"You don't have to say anything, but I have some stuff I'd like to say to you." His eyes were practically begging you to listen and Dom's words rang in your head again. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

"Fine," You sighed, "out with it." You knew you were being a bit rude and cold. But after the past few weeks you've had, you didn't want him here longer than necessary. 

"Right, um," He took a deep breath. He seemed so uncharacteristically nervous. Whenever you were with him, he was always so sure of himself. So confident and cocky. To see him rambling and fiddling with the flowers earlier, and now struggling to find his words - it put a pause in your frustration. 

He straightened his back and took another breath, and you steeled yourself for what he was about to say. 

"I want to apologize." He started, "For everything. For starting this with you, pursuing you when I knew I shouldn't have. For making a mess of it." His throat bobbed as he continued, "When I met you two years ago, there was just something about you. Something that lured me in. You were - are so smart. You're so fucking smart, and beautiful and funny and witty and I just - " He sighed, "God, I fell so hard for you.

"But your father is one of my friends. And that's not right. What kind of man does that make me?" He asked, gesturing to himself. "What kind of man does that?" He all but fell into one of the barstools at the counter, "So, I kept you at arms length. Only saw you in secret, pretended you weren't there if there was even the slightest chance of getting caught - and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. But," he sighed, taking a moment before continuing, "but I didn't know you felt any certain way about it. About me."

He looked up from the counter to you, across the kitchen with your arms still crossed, "I didn't know you weren't okay with it. With the hiding and the secrets. If I had known - "

"What?" You weakly asked. You didn't mean to cut him off, you meant it when you said you didn't have anything left to say to him, but your mouth opened of its own accord. "What would you have done?" 

He was silent and you shook your head, letting out a weak, sad laugh, "Exactly. You wouldn't have done anything, because you can't. Not with who we are." You swallowed down the lump that began to form in your throat, your next words coming out almost silently, "I don't just feel a certain way about it." 

"What does that mean?" He asked, his brows knitting together. 

"James," You sighed, "I've been in love with you for months now." His eyes widened as he watched you lean backwards against the other counter, "And what sucks, is that these past few weeks, all I've wanted to do was call my dad, or my mom, and get some advice on our situation," You felt the tears begin to build in the corners of your eyes. "But I can't ask them. And I can't talk to any of my friends about you because they know my parents." 

You ignored the way his face crumbled as your voice cracked and thinned as you fought the building tears, "I can't talk to anyone about you. I'm alone in this. And even if I were to have you, I'd be alone."

He was silent for a minute, watching the tears fall down your cheeks before he slowly stood and walked around the counter to your side. He hesitantly approached you, gently reached up with his hands and brushed away the tears from your chin. 

"What if you didn't have to be alone?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"What if," he breathed in, his eyes scanning every inch of your face as he caressed it with his thumbs, "what if you didn't have to be alone? What if we didn't hide?" 

A weak scoff pushed past your lips and you tried to glare at him, but you could tell it wasn't really there, "You're assuming there's still a 'we'." Though your words were meant to throw him off, the lack of bite in your tone kept him right in front of you, the tight concern in his face melting way to something you'd only glanced in his eyes a handful of times - something soft. 

"I would like there to be." He whispered and you felt that steel box inside yourself crack open. 

"What?" It felt like it fell between you, your question, but he caught it with his nervous grin

"I'm in love with you," he stated with such gentle conviction, that steel box starting to spring open further and further the more he spoke, "and I know I've made a mess of things, but I would do anything to make it right." His hands slid off your cheeks and ran down the lengths of your arms, softly gripping your fingers and pulling them away from your chest and to his own. "I want to be with you. I want to show the world that I'm yours. I want to openly be yours." 

That little steel box shoved deep down inside of yourself flung open. Everything you've bottled up the past few weeks came bubbling to the surface as you fought that wobble in your lips. You fought to keep it all in. To keep yourself composed. 

"I want to make this right," He continued, his own eyes watering at the state you were in, "You just need to tell me how." He sighed, "Or tell me to fuck off, and I will. You'll never hear from me again if that's what you want. And honestly, I wouldn't be offended if you did." 

The thought of never seeing him again didn't sit right with you. It made a horrible sense of dread fill your chest and you shook your head. 

"What about my father?" You asked, your voice straining against the words that were trying to get out. Against the confession that sat at the tip of your tongue. 

"We'll tell him. We'll find a way to tell him and it'll be okay," He gently pulled you, testing to see how you reacted and when you easily stepped towards him, he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head with his hand, "We'll figure it out." 

The warmth from his chest seeped through his shirt into your cheek and you let it out then, the cries that you'd been holding in, the words you'd come to terms with days ago that you never thought would be voiced, the words you'd wanted to say to him in anger began clumsily tumbling from your lips. 

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Your lips scraped against the cotton of his shirt, "You can't expect me to tell you how I feel when you made it feel wrong to want more." You pulled back, weakly pushing against his chest before haphazardly wiping your eyes. 

You'd missed everything about him the past few weeks, no matter how much you tried not to. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his hands, the husk of his voice. God you missed it. And you wouldn't have had to miss him at all had the two of you just told each other. 

"The way you'd avoid me or act as if I wasn't there," You said, taking a step out of his arms, "How do I know that won't happen again?" 

His face fell as he looked at you, his hands dropping to his sides, "You don't, but I can promise you that it never did." He let out a sad chuckle at the confusion taking over the tears in your eyes. "I may have avoided getting too close to you, yes, but not once did I not notice you." 

He stepped forward, wrapping his hands around your waist to settle on your lower back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns into your shirt. 

"If we're in the same room, I always know exactly where you are," His eyes darted down to your lips for a split second, "When you leave the room, all I want to do is follow you, but I can't. So I strain to hear your voice and laugh over everything else. I practically hold my breath until you come back." He gave you a sad smile, "I know you probably don't believe me, but it's true. It's like my entire being orbits around you and when you aren't around, my soul doesn't know where to spin." 

You didn't know what to say as you watched him, noted the sincerity in his gaze - the tears beginning to line his own lashes. You weighed everything he'd told you, how he felt, how he was trying so hard to not lose you. All because you finally put your foot down, and then listened. 

You weren't sure if your brain could form the words you wanted to say - needed to say. Your heart was racing from his confession and the proximity of him. He was so close to you, you'd merely have to tip your chin up the slightest to catch his lips with your own. 

So you did.

His body instantly reacted - his grip tightening across your back and pulling you as close as he could, his lips moving in tandem with yours in the soft enticing way they always did, a sigh leaving his nose and tickling your cheek. 

The feeling of his lips on yours sent a warmth through your chest that you hadn't felt in weeks, and it quickly spread through the rest of you, tingles shooting out to your fingers as they reached for his chin and down to your toes as your feet backed you up into the counter. A small noise that sounded almost like a whimper escaped his throat, swallowed by your mouth on his, as your hands slid up from his chin into his hair, your fingers threading through the strands and gripping them. 

You knew there was more to talk about, more to figure out - there always would be - but right now you couldn't stop thinking about his lips on yours, his tongue gently asking for permission to play with yours as his hands slid from your back down to your ass, squeezing before sliding further to your thighs, his back bowing as he reached. His fingers pulled on your legs twice and in the spare second his lips were able to pull from yours, you felt him whisper to jump, so you did. 

He caught you, gently placing you on the counter as he stepped in between your legs, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips left yours and moved to your neck, softly nipping and sucking as he moved down to your chest, pulling your shirt, stretching the neck of it but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. He only pulled away to pull the clothing up over your head and out of the way, his mouth immediately going down to close around a nipple when he noticed the lack of bra in his path. 

A low groan rumbled through his throat and into your skin before he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment as the first. Every little touch of his hands, the way they grazed over your skin or grabbed at your free breast, kneading it with his fingers, and the hot trail his tongue left across your skin turned your core molten. You needed him, you didn't want any of the teasing and edging he so loved to torture you with. 

So you tugged on his hair, his name falling from your lips in a whine and he looked up at you, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown. The look made you hesitate and you clenched around nothing - you'd only seen him that far gone in the feeling of your skin one other time. So, seeing it now, you knew you could ask him to do anything, and he'd do it. You could order him, and he'd obey. 

You pulled his face up to yours, making him stand up straight as you locked your lips with his again and slid your hands down to his belt. While you worked the buckle open, his hands wrapped under the shorts on your hips, pulling them down your legs and causing you to gasp at the cold counter meeting your skin. 

The buckle finally opened and your fingers immediately moved to the button and zipper of his jeans, his own moving to brush against the wetness there. Your lips swallowed the new whine that he let out as he gathered the slick, pushing two fingers all the way in.

Your lips broke from his at the feeling of his long fingers pumping in and out of you and your fingers stumbled over the denim, but finally you got the button open and the zipper down and you shoved at his pants, your lips moving to his ear. 

"C'mon, handsome," You whispered, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear and grinning at the shiver that ran through his body, "Your fingers feel nice, but," Your hand reached past the waist, gripping and stroking him, his lips opening in a gasp and latching on to your neck again, "this is what I want." 

He groaned into your neck, thrusting into your hand, his fingers in your cunt stroking your walls, matching pace. 

"I need it, James," Your other hand pulled back to grip his hair, pulling on it to get him to look at you as you continued stroking him. When he pulled away from your neck, he already looked fucked out and you smiled, leaning forward to lick his lips. He tried to chase your lips with his own but when your hand didn't let go of his hair, he stopped. "I need you to fuck me, James," He groaned at that, "Can you do that for me?" 

He nodded, his voice thin as he responded, "Yes." 

"Good," You smiled at him, trying not to whine at the loss of his fingers as he pulled them out and pushed his boxers down just enough. His left hand settled on your waist as his other lined himself up with your entrance, gathering some slick before he pushed himself in, going all the way in one go. 

His head fell into your neck as he groaned, the sound of it combined with the sudden fullness pulling a moan from your lips.

"Oh, fuck," Your lips brushed his ear as you panted. "That's it - fuck -" Your hands come up to grip his shoulders and his back as he immediately set a growing pace. "That's a good boy." 

His lips again connected with your neck and you tipped your head to give him more access, his teeth dragging across your skin. His hips sped up, a loud moan breaking from you as he angled to hit that perfect spot, Your head falling back into the cabinets. 

"That's it that's it," You panted, "Oh, don't you dare stop." His teeth nipped just below your ear and you couldn't stop the grin that grew on your lips, "Mark me," You grunted, "I want everyone to know I'm yours." 

What you could only describe as a growl rumbled from his lips into your skin as he began working to leave a mark on that exact spot, the sensation flying through every one of your nerves, shooting down to where he was hitting that perfect spot over and over, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to falling over that edge, faster than he'd ever let you before. 

His lips brushed the skin of your neck as he grunted out, "Please cum on me," His voice was breathless and he sounded so, so close to begging, "please." 

You let out a breathy sound, that band in you so close to snapping as you lifted your legs to wrap around his hips. Your fingers wound through his hair again, gripping the strands as you ordered him, your lips never leaving his ear, "Make me." 

"I will," He said between leaving marks across your neck and shoulder, "I promise I will." 

His hips never faltered as his thumb on his right hand came to press quick circles into your clit, your legs snapping around him at the sensation and your head again hitting the cabinets. 

"Shit, that's it," Your fingers gripped any part of him you could reach, scratching your nails down his skin and the shirt still covering his back. The band in your core snapped and your release washed over you, your body locking around his as you were sure you screamed into his shoulder. 

His hips didn't stop, still fucking into you at that brutal pace he'd set, his thumb still circling your clit and you could feel another orgasm quickly approaching. 

He grunted out, his only request this whole time, "One more," before his voice softened into a whine, "please give me one, pleasepleaseplease." 

You didn't fight the second wave as it crashed into you, stealing your breath. His hips thrust into you just a couple more times before he stilled and his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, his long moan vibrating into the skin of your neck as he buried his face again. 

His legs shook as he stood there with you wrapped so tightly around him, but it was like he didn't dare move from your hold, or let you escape his. And you were fine with that. 

Once you got your breath back, you slowly dragged your fingers over his back and shoulders, threading through his hair before going back down his neck, his muscles loosening with each pass. 

His arms wrapped around your waist in a tight hug as he finally broke the silence, "Can there still be a 'we'?" His voice was so quiet, like he was scared to ask. You pulled his face away from your neck finally. "Are you going to ask me out? Like a real date?" You grinned at the flush on his cheeks. 

"Can I take you on a proper date?" 

You couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up in your chest and you nodded, "Absolutely." 

There was a feeling in your chest telling you to think about it more before agreeing, but you ignored it. You knew the risks, and you knew there was more to figure out and more to learn before it would be a smooth road - and that didn't even include telling your parents. 

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, you just wanted to stay wrapped around Bucky in every sense and enjoy the warmth that filled your chest as he looked at you like you hung the sky just for him. 

Yeah, you'd fix the rest of it later. 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <3 @remis-library​ 

[selineram3421]

*giggles like a psycho*

First Day

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ children (lol), reader being a menace ☺, blood/gore, ALL CAPS Bold red Italics = SOUND AFFECTS, red italics= Alastor's thoughts, fake crying, food mention(desserts), mention of murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, murder of test demon ⚠

You saw the school bus and it was filled with shouts and screeches of other demon children. Making sure you of the item in your pocket, you readied yourself to begin the plan.

Stage one: Have some control over the school bus.

The door opened and you hop up the steps, the screams even louder now that you were inside.

It was absolutely unhinged.

I can do better. You thought, taking a quick glance to find a seat.

"Hurry up and sit down brat.", the bus driver yelled.

"Quiet before I cut you open.", you said to them without missing a beat and walked towards the back of the bus.

You were calm as the other children were acting like drug addicts.

One was bold enough to try and trip you with their leg out. Looking at them, you see that they have a cocky grin.

"Can you please move your leg? Its in the way.", you ask.

"No. Just go over it.", they laughed.

With a shrug you do just that, they try and lift their leg up higher to trip you but you jump at the last second and aim for their knee.

SNAP

They scream like bloody murder as they cry, grabbing the attention of the other children. All eyes are on you and the broken leg that's spewing out blood.

"I did ask nicely.", you say before continuing on your way to the open seat in the back.

Finally, you arrive at the school and find your classroom, now you were standing next to the teacher as your new classmates make a mess with paper planes and other items.

"Everyone SHUT UP! This is the new student.", the teacher Ms. Mayberry introduces you to the class. "Go on and say hello, then take the empty seat over in the middle."

You nod and smile as you face the children.

"Don't cross me or you might end up like Mikey!", you say cheerfully and go sit down.

Stage two: Assert dominance and be kind to those who are kind to you. *weed out any snakes*

.

Alastor got ready to pick up his little demon.

I wonder if they had fun. He thought before leaving the hotel.

On his way over, he picked up some pastries from their favorite bakery. Now the Radio Demon was just a few feet away from the gate that had a few lingering children, that's where he saw his little one waiting with the teacher who was smoking.

They spotted him and lit up.

"Alastor!", they cheered before running up.

The teacher had backed up a bit after noticing who he was.

"Good afternoon mon petite!", he said and picked them up. "Did you have a good time? Hm? Were there any pests?"

"I took care of it! But all of them went home alive.", they replied as he began walking back to the hotel. "Bye Ms. Mayberry!", they waved to their teacher.

They had started to tell him what happened on the school bus as they got closer to the hotel, that is when the deer demon reminded them to look sad.

"I don't think I can keep a straight face but I can still cry like I'm sad.", the little demon said. "I know what to do."

They hid their face on his shoulder and started shaking their shoulders, making convincing sniffles and sobs.

Alastor opened the hotel doors, finding the princess and her partner, one of them holding a cupcake.

"Oh no, what happened?", Charlie asked after noticing the little demon's shaking shoulders.

"There was a bully that harassed them today.", he answered and made his way over to the stairs, lifting up the bakery box. "I've already bought them sweets to cheer them up but you can leave the cupcake for dessert after dinner."

Once in the hotel room, he sets them down and put the box of sweets on the small table near the door.

"Wash your hands before getting your sweets.", he says before helping them take off their school bag.

"Ok!", they nod and run over to the bathroom.

Taking the box, the demon in red snaps his fingers to conjure some plates on the coffee table. He sets up the table before putting the pastries on the plates. Making sure to get their favorite cup for their drink.

They went to their room before coming back out with no coat and taking a seat on the couch.

"Now, tell me all about your day.", he said giving them a plate with a slice of cranberry pomegranate curd tart. "What kind of drink would you like with your sweets?"

They ask for their favorite drink and proceed to tell him about what happened after the "tripping" incident.

The deer demon prepares a cup of coffee while getting their drink.

"Some of the kids tried to act tough and pick a fight with me during reeses. The supervisors don't care if there's a fight as long as no one gets killed.", they said before taking a bite of the tart. "I broke a lot of bones today.", they add.

"Don't speak while chewing dear.", Alastor hands them a napkin, placing their cup next to their plate before sitting down.

They go into detail of all the injuries they caused with a wide smile. Telling him that they want to learn more tactics of intimidation to scare some of the staff.

"Finish your homework and I'll take you out so you can have hands on experience.", he says and sips his coffee.

"Really!?", they ask excited.

"Of course! Its the best way to learn."

After dinner (and their desert), they headed out and found a demon to test on.

"The best way to intimidate someone is through fear. Give them something that will always remind others not to try anything. Breaking the boy's leg was good, but remember that it is on school grounds that you cannot kill.", he says as both of them watch the test demon scream as they are being taken apart limb by limb. "Of course you have my permission to kill anyone that tries to kill or kidnap you. Or other terrible things.."

"Can I torture them a little bit?", they ask.

"Yes, but don't let your guard down.", the Radio Demon says, using the tendrils to rip the test demon's head off. "Remember mon petite, prey can bite back."

On the way back to the hotel, he got them a new plush, a small mouse to attach to their school bag.

"Mr. Squeaks."

Tehe.

~Seline, the person.

Extra: Dessert image

Extra EXTRA: Art

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @roo-bi @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[strongheartneteyam]

[ all credits of the Neteyam pic go to the incredibly talented @cinetrix ♡]

Champagne Problems

Part 2

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: neteyam is a simp for reader, black cat gf/golden retriever bf "trope", a whole lot of angst, beach party, use of alcohol, some romantic comedy vibes, neteyam acting a bit cocky lol, reader is a tiny bit of a meanie towards neteyam, sexual language, sexual content, reader is a bit antisocial, flirting, emotionally unavailable bc of trauma reader, unrequited love (neteyam is the one having the unrequited feelings), sexual tension, commitment issues, exophilia, size kink, interspecies relationship, bad words. Hit me up to lemme know if I forgot something ahaha

Synopsis: Neteyam has had his eye on you for long but you always kept him away, at a safe distance. You have no feelings for him after all, you only think he's really attractive... right? What happens when he starts flirting with you at a Metkayina beach party and he just won't give it up? Will you finally give him a chance to show you how he feels or will you keep hiding behind the armor that you have for a heart? Neteyam is known among the na'vi as persistent and everybody knows he doesn't back off from a challenge. And you're his favorite one.

Reader is slightly older than Neteyam, for only 2 years.

Neteyam and Reader (AI Art)

Do you guys remember the story inspired by Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift that I promised like ages ago? Well... The first part is here? 🤓 A lot of people seemed to be excited to read this when I posted that sneak peak. Hope you guys like it! kiss kiss 💗

Slightly proofread.

Part 1 : Say Yes to Heaven

𓇼

If you dance, I'll dance

And if you don't, I'll dance anyway

Give peace a chance

Let the fear you have fall away

I've got my eye on you

(...)

Say yes to Heaven, say yes to me

Say Yes To Heaven (Lana Del Rey)

𓇼

"It's not like you're not gonna break me in half if we try to get down and dirty." You laugh a bit too much, the alcohol invading your brain slowly, making you care less and less about behaving in a "socially acceptable" way. Though you wondered if your not-a-bit-elegant-honesty mattered at all to Neteyam Sully, the na'vi boy sitting in the maroon leather couch, by your side, his huge size making the couch look ridiculously small. He was na'vi, after all. Totally different culture. The na'vi were way more upfront about their real thoughts and feelings.

Neteyam had been talking loudly, almost yelling, at your ear for the past 40 minutes, trying to make his voice sound louder than the party's music, so you could hear him try to convince you to hook up with him. As if the loud uplifting songs that echoed in the salty air of that Metkayina beach were not enough to bug your tired head, now you had Neteyam helping your headache get worse.

"That doesn't mean you can't let me take you home. Or even let me make you my mate, eventually, if we end up falling in love while we fuck under the starry sky. You might like laying with me in my hammock and letting me pleasure you more than you think. Maybe you'll want to be my girl once you get a taste of this na'vi spice" He was joking around with you while flirting.

His thick, muscular but still fleshy thighs were spread on the sofa way too much to your liking. It was almost like he was trying to show you how masculine or desirable - some bullshit like that - he was. You know, that kind of thing a lot of guys usually do when trying to seduce you.

You knew Neteyam was aware he was handsome, that his body was attractive. He had always had girls - na'vi and human - all over him since he was a teen, drooling over his beauty.

But if he thought his loverboy flirting that must have worked so easily with just way too many girls before was gonna work that easily with you, he was mistaken.

Okay, you had to admit he was being pretty insistent, though. Neteyam had been there for almost an hour already. You did not understand what was making him insist that much on you if you had an armor as impenetrable as the one of a human warrior of the Middle Ages, back on Earth. And those armors were really hard to get under.

"Listen" you took a last big sip of your champagne and put the glass cup on the wooden table next to the sofa "When you gonna give up, honey? It's not gonna work. I'm not hooking up with you." You looked him in the eyes.

Goddamn, were his orbs big compared to the ones of a human. 

They were beautiful, though.

Damn, (y/n)! Focus, girl!

"I'm known among my people for being disciplined, focused and getting what I want because I fight hard for it. You're my focus now, tawtute." (human) I'm not giving up on you. You're like my Ikran. You're wild and hard to get but I'll conquer you, sevin tawtute." (pretty human) "On the first try."

"Cocky much?" You smirked and shook your head in disapproval "No, but, seriously, Neteyam, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten about tsaheylu? I don't have a neurological queue, babe. I know I have many braids in my hair," You pointed out your hairstyle "but they're all regular human braids. None of them have little tendrils on its tip. Sorry, Neteyam. We're Romeo and Juliet. And Juliet doesn't even love Romeo in this story. You're deemed to heartbreak." You said, like you could not care less about his attempts to win you over, sipping on your sparkling champagne, that went down your throat comfortably, making you feel cozy and safe. It wasn't gonna work, anyway.

You liked champagne a bit too much... you had to admit it was very possible that you had a bit of a drinking problem. Alcohol made you feel warm inside. In an emotional way too. It felt like someone was hugging you, when you would not let many real people hug you because you just were not exactly enthusiastic about having physical contact with just anyone. You only let your closest friends and some family members, like your little sister, hug you. 

Some people would often call you "cold" and say that you acted "like a queen, above everyone else", behind your back, but that could not be further from the truth. You actually hated how low your actual self steem was.

"Why don't you look at Munì?" You mentioned the curvy, tall, blue eyed Metkayina girl who clearly had a mad crush on Neteyam. She was incredibly pretty. Nobody could deny that. "She has been drooling over you ever since you got here. Give the poor girl a chance. She's such a cutie. If I liked girls, I'd easily do her. Look at those beautiful, long, toned legs. Look at her wide hips. Damn, she's yummy!" you were drinking too much, your honesty getting way too out there.

"I don't want her. I want you." He spoke, like he really meant it. "My hammock will be hanged between those two big trees you like to collect fruits from. I'll be waiting for you, if you want to meet me."

With that last line being said, Neteyam got up from the sofa and walked away, swiftly finding his younger brother Lo'ak and tapping on his back, like men usually do. Both brothers started what looked like an interesting conversation.

You were left alone wondering how Neteyam could say those words and walk away so nonchalantly. 

"Phew! I thought he'd never leave, girlie." Adeline screamed, coming closer to you.

She was your best friend. You guys knew way too much about each other, but that only drove you closer and made you two have a beautiful bond that felt unbreakable. She was one of the few people in the world you trusted with many of your secrets. But not even she knew everything about you. Yes, talk about trust issues…

"God, I was about to call his sister to take him away! Kiri is much more chill and quiet compared to her siblings. She's a sweetheart." You said, finally letting your guard down and being able to relax your body language, laying back on the couch and resting your bare feet on the wooden dark brown table in front of you

𓇼

You cursed yourself while you walked towards Neteyam's big light brown hammock, hanged between two big beautiful trees that reminded you of the Palm Trees that used to exist on Planet Earth.

Why were you doing that, anyway?

"Tawtute! You came." Neteyam smiled, relief all over his face 

You sighed.

"Yeah, but I'm still wondering why I did."

"Ouch!" He put his huge four fingered hand on his chest and frowned, like he was in pain

You rolled your eyes at him.

"Stop that, silly." Crossing your arms, you walked towards the big tropical tree in front of his hammock but still a little far

"Hey! Where are you going?" Neteyam almost screamed as you were already further away from him than you should be if you were actually gonna have sex with him

It was like you were running away from and showing up to the "job" at the same time. Go figure out.

You rested your back against that large tree, feeling the rough edges of the wood harassing your skin.

Neteyam was already almost there where you were. His long na'vi legs helped him walk faster than you anticipated.

Neteyam got next to you. You felt a little fear but a bit of excitement, simultaneously, when you realized your head only reached his hip.

Fuck, he was a giant next to you… why the hell did that turn you on?

"Are you afraid of me, yawntutsyìp?" (little loved one) Neteyam said in a lewd, low voice as you looked at him, feeling like a pathetic little ant looking up at a human

Was that how ants felt?

"No, silly, I'm not." You looked away from him and tried to focus on the way the eclipse had beautiful violet and blue tones

That almost worked. If it wasn't for Neteyam using his huge alien hand to stroke your hair softly.

"You're so pretty, tawtute." You could feel his gaze directed at you, you could feel his heat burning your skin. The desire he felt for you was almost freaking tangible. 

You kept your eyes on the stars.

"You're not gonna look at me, yawntutsyìp? Lemme see those pretty eyes, hmm?" Fuck, he was turning you on so much, your pussy felt good already and there was a tight knot forming in your lower belly. How did he do that to you with so little effort?

You looked up at Neteyam's face, your neck hurting. You did not expect to see a big bulge under his navy blue loincloth, though. Neteyam was so huge you could not help staring and your face totally betrayed your surprise.

"C'mon, I wanna feel your tiny body on mine." He paused and his big blue hand traced your collarbone and your shoulders "You're so small, tawtute… Hmmm…" he let out something between a moan and a growl "So soft too." Neteyam squeezed your arm, feeling your soft human flesh against his slender fingers "I love how different from na'vi girls you are. I'm so lucky to have you all to myself tonight."

Your breath was now labored and your pussy was soaked. Your poor panties were all wet.

"I'm dying to squeeze those titties. They look incredibly soft. But I won't do anything that intimate before you say "yes" first, yawntutsyìp."

•

Taglist:

@yeosxxx (u asked to be tagged in all my writings so I'm tagging u here hehe)

Comments are very welcome. I love all of you who take time to read my writings ♡ Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart. If you wanna be added to the taglist, just leave a comment down below <3

[fratboykate]

Ooooff papi the pain. Maybe I am a masochist. It’s so agonizing but I fucking can’t stop reading it. It’s like eating something painfully spicy, you know?

If you would, allow me to word vomit. I think it’s so sad for me is because a marriage falling apart can happen to anyone. Like somewhere in a kitchen a couple is probably having this exact fight or something similar to it. This is kind like a glimpse through a window of a someone’s marriage and we can see every little dirty, human detail. And it’s heartbreaking. It’s happened a million times before and it's going to happen a million time in the future. and you can do absolutely nothing about it. because people are gonna be people, you know?

I am a hardcore romantic at heart so reading your stuff is almost a traumatic experience. But also it’s good for the soul so 🤷🏻‍♀️. And also I love it

also have you watched Acrane? it has Hailee Steinfeld in it? Probably one of the greatest pieces of media I've ever watched?

You want it to get sadder? I got 10.4k words worth of sad for you lol. You don't HAVE to have read the whole of FBAU so far to enjoy this, but I think I counted at least five other chapters/things that have happened before somehow referenced/called back in here and it just makes it so much more painful if you have that framing. But again, its not required to have that knowledge to understand this. We also see basically every major player in the story so far for at least a little bit. It's a nice roundup.

This picks up about sixteen weeks after the last chapter. It gets...a little Real towards the end so just...1) be warned and 2) trust the process. We're going on a journey here. Y'all just need to let it play out before you start asking for my head on a spike.

---

Yelena never thought she'd use the phrase ‘single parent’ to describe herself. It still sounds wrong when it crosses her mind. Like an ill-fitting jacket someone forced onto her. Like something she borrowed for a night and forgot to return.

But it’s real. It’s her life now.

Her apartment is smaller than the home she shared with Kate, but it’s comfortable. Just big enough for the kids when they stay over, but small enough that she doesn’t feel like a ghost rattling around in an empty castle when they’re gone. She was lucky enough to find a place a few subway stops from Kate's building so the kids don’t feel like they’re ping-ponging between two disparate worlds. She insisted on that. She wanted their lives to feel as seamless as possible despite the disarray beneath it. The world had already shifted under their feet. She wasn’t going to make them deal with unnecessary aftershocks on top of it.

Fifty-fifty custody. Three days at each place, alternating Sundays. A logistical nightmare, but fair.

Fair.

Yelena has no idea what fair even means anymore. It’s a kid asking why she isn’t home all the time. It’s a name missing from the emergency contact list depending on who fills it out. It’s the way the house is always clean now, nothing left out of place, no toys underfoot, no basketball shorts left out of place, no mug left in the sink with Kate’s protein powder stuck on the rim.

It’s quiet.

Even when the kids aren’t there, she wakes up early. It’s not by choice. Just habit. For years, there was always something waking her up before she was ready. Her wife’s wandering hands, a tiny foot pushing into her ribs, the distant hum of Kate on a phone call with Asian clients in another room.

Now, she wakes up to nothing half the time. Nothing but absolute silence.

Yelena swings her legs over the edge, presses her feet into the hardwood, and rakes her fingers through golden locks.

Coffee. She needs coffee.

Yelena moves on autopilot, filling the machine, pressing the button, waiting for the drip. The smell fills the apartment. Familiar. She used to love this part of the morning. Now, she makes the coffee and barely drinks it.

Some mornings, she forces herself to sit at the kitchen table and pretend she enjoys the quiet. Other mornings, it presses against her skull like a vice.

She used to be the type to start working before her second sip of coffee. Now? Most days, she just loiters around the apartment. Thinking. Tinkering. Trudging. Doing nothing at all.

Before, she measured time in deadlines and breakthroughs. Now, she measures it in custody exchanges and school pickups.

Yelena Belova never used to cancel anything work related.

Now? If the kids are with her, she leaves work early. She rearranges meetings. She skips conferences. She bows out of professional trips. She should be enraged about that, about all she’s missing. About how much more she could be doing. And she is pissed. At Kate, at herself, at the situation she got shoved into. But likely not enough.

But the truth is, when she’s with the kids, she doesn’t mind. And she’s getting them back today. The thought tugs at something deep in her chest. A quiet, unspoken relief.

She glances at the clock. She has a few hours before pickup. Enough time to go into the lab, check in, pretend to work for a few hours.

A knock at the door interrupts her before she’s finished the mental list of things to do once she gets to the office. A brute, familiar bang-bang-bang against the wood.

She sighs. Alexei.

A beat of waiting after loudly announcing himself, Alexei uses his keys to get in. They'd learned the hard (and embarrassing) way that him waltzing into the apartment with no warning was a terrible idea that traumatized both of them. Now Alexei knocks and waits a respectable amount of time before entering. At least long enough to warn Yelena that she needs to throw on a robe.

This day that was not necessary. So Yelena simply leans on the counter and waits.

A few thundering footsteps later…there he is. Alexei walks up to the kitchen threshold, holding two paper bags and looking smug.

“I knock loud enough now?”

“You definitely did.”

“No ‘Hello, Daddy’ for me today? Not even when I bring these?” Alexei lifts a couple of pastry bags.

"It’s barely seven in the morning, dad.”

"Breakfast is important. And you forget to eat when you alone." He moves around the kitchen like he owns the place.

"I eat."

“Coffee does not count," he mutters, already unpacking food. "Sit."

Yelena rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. She drops into the chair across from him as he slides a breakfast sandwich her way.

Alexei squints at her like he’s evaluating a patient.

"You look better."

"I look the same."

"Better," he repeats, unwrapping his sandwich. "Less like roadkill."

High praise, coming from him.

Yelena takes a slow sip of her coffee.

"You should be sitting on a beach somewhere, not babysitting your grown daughter."

Alexei retired. Just…stopped. Unexpectedly. Said ‘Fuck it, I’ve worked enough’. The surprising decision came just days after Yelena told them about the divorce. After she cried for hours on their couch. Yelena still doesn’t know if he did it because he wanted to or because she needed him to.

And she sure did need him sometimes. Alexei watches Sonny on the days when Yelena can’t. Picks up Alexia and Maks from school if she’s stuck in a meeting. Stocks her fridge when she forgets.

He is, in his own words, Deda Supreme.

"Don’t flatter yourself," he mutters through a mouthful of food. "I am not just babysitter. I am also your mother’s house husband now. It is me and the kids or me and the pigs. Very important work I do.“

Yelena snorts.

"Bet mom and the pigs love that."

"Oh, she loves it. She gives me list. I ignore list. She yells at me. It is perfect system."

Yelena smirks, shaking her head.

The truth is, Alexei showing up like this is annoying. But also…the only thing keeping her from spiraling some days.

He leans back, watching her carefully.

"You are doing okay? Yes?”

It’s not ‘Are you okay?’ because they both know the answer to that. She nods, pushing a piece of egg around her plate with a fork.

"Yeah."

Alexei grunts like he doesn’t fully believe her, but he lets it go. For a while after that, they just eat in silence.

"You see Kate?" he asks. Throwing the question out there nonchalantly. More curious than he would want it to be.

Yelena keeps her voice even, but the question unsettles her more than it should. She knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time before he asked. But it still grates.

Alexei was Kate’s person for years. They shared the kind of love Kate never got from her own father. And Alexei? He treated Kate like she was his own. Kate was his unofficial second kid. His loudest, brashest, most stubborn child.

And then, just like that, she wasn’t. He chose his actual daughter in the divorce. Yelena knows it shouldn’t feel like a choice, but it does.

He doesn’t talk to Kate anymore. Not really. Not since the moment he found out how things had transpired. Alexei not saying anything is the better alternative to actually talking to Kate and verbalizing the things he would. Yelena has never really asked if they've talked, but she can infer. She knows because she can see how much Kate’s absence weighs on him. She can tell by the way Alexei doesn’t bring her up often. Or at all. Its been almost four months of this and this is the first time she even remembers him saying her name. He hasn't even tried to defend her. Yelena has had to mourn not just the lost of her marriage, but her father losing one of the most relationships in his life. She isn't quite sure which hurts more. And the way he looks at Yelena sometimes…like he wants to say something but swallows it down instead. That’s one of the worst parts of this whole mess.

She’s known Kate long enough to know that Alexei cutting ties is killing her too. Kate doesn’t lose people. She pushes them away. She burns them away. But she never truly loses them. Not until now. And Alexei? He lost her as well. Neither of them will ever talk about it. But Yelena can feel the ghost of it sitting between them.

“Only at drop-offs…Why?”

Alexei shrugs, stabbing at his eggs.

“Just wondering.”

Yelena doesn’t push. Neither does he.

Yelena shoves her chair back and stands.

"I need to go into the lab before I get the kids."

Alexei waves her off. "Go. I’ll clean."

"Don’t break anything," she calls over her shoulder.

She doesn’t hear his response, but she’s sure it’s something sarcastic.

///

When Yelena gets to the lab, she should work. Instead, she just…sits there. She stares at reports for twenty minutes without reading a word. Moves a petri dish from one side of the desk to the other. Rearranges the same stack of notes she’s already attempted to read five times. Her focus is gone.

Before the divorce, work was an escape. A thing she knew she was good at. A place where her decisions had immediate results.

Now, it just feels like…blergh. She doesn’t even realize she’s zoning out until her phone buzzes.

CALENDAR REMINDER: DR. O’GRADY @ 12PM.

“Damn it.”

Yelena sighs, grabs her bag, and gets up.

///

Therapy is therapy. Dr. O’Grady is direct. Unyielding in the way only an older Irish woman can be.

Yelena slouches on the couch, arms crossed.

"Before you say anything, yes, I’ve been sleeping. Yes, I’ve been eating. Yes, I’ve been functioning."

Dr. O’Grady quirks a brow.

"Functioning isn’t thriving, Yelena."

Yelena groans.

“You sound like my mother.”

Dr. O’Grady doesn’t react. Just waits. Yelena sighs, staring at the ceiling.

"I don’t know what you want me to say."

"I want you to tell me how you’re feeling instead of how you think you should feel."

Yelena doesn’t answer right away. She takes a slow breath.

"I feel…" She pauses. Licks her lips. "Different."

"Explain."

"I don’t know." She shifts, uncomfortable. "Kate backed me into this, and yeah, it’s messed up, and yeah, I was angry, but I’m here…And I’m figuring it out."

Dr. O’Grady nods.

"And what does figuring it out look like for you?"

"It means I wake up, I take care of the kids and try to remember to take care of myself too. It means I go to work and try to get anything done. It means I don’t let this define me."

"Do you still check your phone, expecting a text from her?" Yelena stiffens. Dr. O’Grady’s voice is gentler when she speaks again. "You don’t have to win the breakup, Yelena."

Yelena clenches her jaw, staring at the floor. She doesn’t answer. Because she’s not sure she believes that.

///

The alarm goes off at five-thirty, but Yelena’s already awake. She doesn’t need it anymore. Not when Sonny’s internal clock is better than any piece of technology ever invented.

There’s always a few blissful seconds of quiet, the kind where she almost forgets she’s not waking up in the old apartment, in the life she used to have. Then, reality settles in. A tiny voice crackles over the baby monitor. Sonny babbling in that half-asleep, half-happy nonsense way she does first thing in the morning.

Yelena sighs, throws off the blanket, and swings her legs out of bed. Another day. No time to linger.

By the time she makes it to the nursery, Sonny’s sitting up in the crib, Kate’s coal black hair wild, cheeks flushed from sleep.

“Mamaaaaaaa.”

Yelena leans against the doorway. “You could at least aim for anything past six.”

Sonny giggles, reaching her arms up, demanding. “Mama up.”

Yelena lifts her effortlessly, pressing a kiss against her chubby cheek, breathing in the warm, milky scent of her skin. Sonny hums, content, resting her head against Yelena’s shoulder like she has all the time in the world. For a moment, Yelena lets herself just hold her, swaying slightly on instinct, soaking in the quiet before the chaos of the morning really kicks in.

Yelena walks to the wall and gently taps it twice, voice low but firm.

“I’m coming in to get you in five, so don’t act surprised.”

Inside, there’s a groan followed by a muttered “Too early.”

Yelena smirks.

“Cry about it. You’re still getting up.”

The next bedroom over is Alexia and Maks’ room. A compromise. A necessity. Three bedrooms were the absolute most she could swing in New York City on her single mom salary, and even that was stretching it. A brownstone was out of the question. A four-bedroom was a pipe dream. The kids would have to share.

Alexia hated it at first. Maks didn’t care. Yelena still remembers the first night in the new place…Alexia lying stiff as a board in her bed, refusing to speak, while Maks snored like a chainsaw two feet away.

Alexia made it three days before she finally caved and admitted she could live with it. Begrudgingly.

Still, Yelena doesn’t barge in during the mornings. They’re Kate’s kids, after all. They need a bit of winding up time or they're little cranky demons. She learned that lesson fast.

She hears Maks stirring, rolling over, the distinct sound of him smacking his lips dramatically like he’s waking from a coma instead of a normal night of sleep. Alexia sighs heavily, the universal sound of an older sibling’s deep frustration.

Yelena just leans against the wall, waiting. Five minutes of extra quiet for everyone. No more, no less. The truce they’d landed on. Some battles weren’t worth fighting. Others? She fought like hell.

Sonny clings to her like a koala as Yelena moves around the room. The toddler is warm, heavy, and a little floppy from sleep. It would be nice if they could stay like this. If the morning didn’t immediately have to shift into the barely controlled chaos it always does.

But then…right on cue…she hears it. The sound of Alexia and Maks butting heads in their bedroom.

“You’re so annoying!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Stop copying me!”

“Stop copying me!”

Someone groans in frustration. A door slams. Something crashes. Yelena takes a deep breath, shifts Sonny higher on her hip, and steels herself for war.

///

By seven, Alexia is at the kitchen table, bleary-eyed, snapping at Maks for ‘breathing too much’. Maks is hanging off the back of a chair, already talking at full volume about something he saw on YouTube. Sonny is smacking a spoon against her high chair like a tiny, chaotic drummer.

It’s a circus. It’s draining. It’s the best part of her week.

"Mama, Maks is making that sound with his throat again," Alexia grumbles, jabbing at her eggs like they personally offended her.

"I’m just clearing it!" Maks protests.

"You're doing it on purpose."

"No, I’m not!"

Alexia levels him with a look. Maks grins. Then deliberately clears his throat again.

“MOM!” Alexia complains.

Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Both of you. Eat.”

“MOM! SHE’S KICKING ME!”

Alexia rolls her eyes so hard Yelena swears she can hear it.

"Eat," Yelena warns. "No more talking."

It lasts a grand total of ten seconds.

“Do ducks know they’re birds?” Maks asks suddenly, looking genuinely concerned.

Kate used to answer these questions. Or, at the very least, deflect them better than Yelena can. But Kate’s not here, so Yelena tries. She tries.

Before she can come up with even a semblance of a coherent answer, Yelena hears the telltale jingle of a spare key in the lock and she knows her morning is about to get a hell of a lot worse.

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s trying to wrestle Sonny into her pants when the door swings open.

“Доброе утро!” [Good morning!] Alexei’s voice booms through the apartment like a goddamn foghorn. “I bring real breakfast.”

Maks is the first to react, immediately jumping out of his chair.

“Deda!”

Alexei barely makes it inside before Maks throws himself at his legs.

“Ah, мой мальчик!” [Ah, my boy!]

Alexei hoists Maks up, swinging him dramatically in the air. Maks shrieks in delight. Alexia, still slumped at the kitchen table, doesn’t even glance up from her plate.

“It’s too early…”

Yelena sighs, trying to keep Sonny from wriggling out of her grasp.

“Dad, if you brought soup again, I swear to God…”

“I bring strong, good, Russian soup. I do not want my babies to be weak.”

“Deda, we hate soup,” Maks reminds him.

Alexei clutches his chest like Maks just stabbed him.

“Deda up.” Sonny requests while lifting both arms.

Alexei scoops her up effortlessly.

“See? This one? Smart. She will respect our family traditions.”

“I just had to stop her from eating a piece of paper. I’d temper those smart expectations.” Yelena says in jest.

“Я тоже ем бумагу. Это нормально.” [“I eat paper too. It's okay.”]

Alexei grins, tossing Sonny in the air just enough to make her giggle. The front door closes again, much softer this time. Melina.

“Alexei, do not throw the baby.” Her voice cuts through the kitchen before she even walks in, immediately taking in the scene.

“She likes.” Alexei protests.

Sonny looks at her grandfather and signs ‘more’ repeatedly.

“See! She likes a lot.” Alexei throws the baby up in the air again.

Melina sighs, placing a massive binder on the counter. Yelena groans.

“If that’s another ‘updated version’ of your binder, I’m setting it on fire.”

Melina helps in a Melina way. Clinical, methodical, and ruthlessly efficient. She made Yelena a co-parenting binder. Thick enough to double as a weapon. Complete with color-coded custody schedules, "empirical resources" on child development post-divorce, a curated list of recommended therapists (vetted…of course), and a financial projection chart mapping out Yelena’s single-income future in excruciating detail. She sends links to peer-reviewed studies on shared custody benefits. She forwards articles titled "The Psychological Impact of Divorce on Children and How to Mitigate Harm." She asks if Yelena has had “productive” therapy sessions with the same tone she once used when quizzing her on chemical compounds. The whole thing is intense, overbearing, and borderline invasive. And while Yelena would rather chew glass than admit it, she appreciates it more than she can say.

Melina ignores her, flipping it open.

“Have you reviewed the meal plan I sent you?”

“The…what?”

“The meal plan. I designed for optimal childhood development. I included omega-rich foods for cognitive function and…”

Alexia groans, shoving a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“Too many words before school.”

“Speaking of school, have you confirmed with Kate about the parent-teacher conferences?”

“Mom…” Yelena interrupts, rubbing her temples. “I love you. I appreciate you, but if you say one more thing that makes me feel like I am doing this wrong, I’ll just stop telling you things.”

Alexei, who has been rummaging through the fridge, emerges.

“You are out of beer.”

Yelena glares at him.

“It’s seven-thirty in the morning.”

He shrugs.

“And? It is afternoon in Moscow.”

Maks, who has been quiet for a suspiciously long time, suddenly tugs on Alexei’s sleeve.

“Deda, do ducks know they’re birds?”

Silence. Alexei strokes his beard.

“Ah. A great question.”

Yelena groans.

“Don’t encourage him…”

“No, no, this is important,” Alexei insists. He turns to Maks, solemn. “Some ducks…yes. They know. They accept the bird life. Others?” He shakes his head. “They struggle. They fight it. They don’t like the expectations of bird society.”

Maks nods, taking this in.

Melina exhales sharply.

“This is exactly why they ask you the ridiculous questions and me the important ones.”

Melina declares as she begins to tidy up around the house. Before Yelena can respond, a spoon clatters to the floor. Everyone turns.

Sonny, looking incredibly pleased with herself, smacks her high chair tray and signs ‘More more more more’.

Alexei beams. “Да! Demand what you deserve, моя девочка!” [“Yes! Demand what you deserve, my girl!”]

“Deda, can you take us to school?” Maks queries.

“He’s gonna make us late.” Alexia argues.

“Me? Late?” Alexei scoffs, placing a hand over his heart. “Impossible.”

Yelena side-eyes him.

“You picked them up late last week.”

Alexei waves a hand.

“I had things to do.”

“You were watching a soccer game.”

“Exactly. Things I was doing. Now? Nothing to do but take these devils to school.”

Maks jumps up and down.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Yelena sighs, giving in. “Fine. You take them. I take the little one.”

Alexei claps his hands together.

“Alright, soldiers, let’s move out!”

He swoops one kid in each arm and heads for the door.

“Do NOT forget their bags this time.”

“I would never.”

“BYE BYEEEEEEE!” Sonny waves both arms wildly as her siblings disappear out the door, her little voice echoing down the hall.

The door shuts behind Alexei. And just like that, the apartment is plunged into a sudden, startling silence.

Yelena collapses into a chair. Her body still wired from the morning mayhem, muscles tense from the constant motion of keeping three kids fed, clothed, and moving in the right direction. It takes her a full minute before she realizes she doesn’t actually have to move anymore.

Melina reappears from the living room, arms full of scattered toys she’s gathered like some kind of overworked maid. A plastic dinosaur dangles precariously from her fingers, and she steps over a half-constructed Lego tower with the precision of someone who has spent far too many years dodging stray bricks.

“You let your father get away with too much,” she remarks, dropping a stuffed elephant onto the dining table with a huff.

Yelena snorts, stretching out in her chair.

“You say that like we’ve ever stopped him from doing anything.”

Melina sighs, flipping open the binder again. Yelena swears that thing balloons in size every week.

“I need you to confirm the holiday schedule with Kate. We need to know where they will be for each major holiday. I would prefer Christmas. She can have Thanksgiving.”

Yelena groans, tilting her head back against the chair.

“Can we survive one day without a schedule?”

“No,” Melina says flatly, barely glancing up.

“This is why Deda is the favorite,” Yelena mumbles, half joking.

“I know.” Melina smirks.

Yelena sighs, dragging herself to her feet.

“You want coffee?”

Melina hums, flipping a page in the binder. “You never said if you reviewed the meal plan. It has balanced dietary recommendations for all three.”

Yelena glares. Melina sighs.

“Fine. Yes, coffee. But if you do not ask Kate about holidays, I will call her… and I do not know how well that will go. For her.”

Yelena sighs heavily but pours her a cup anyway.

“Don’t call Kate, Mom.”

Melina lifts the mug with a satisfied little nod.

For all the chaos, all the headaches, all the everything, this…this…is what keeps her sane. The noise. The movement. The absolute certainty that she doesn’t have to do any of this alone.

Even if she wants to strangle half the people helping.

///

Therapy with three kids is a whole different ballgame. Yelena doesn’t mind her solo sessions with Dr. O’Grady, annoying as the woman is in her ability to see things Yelena isn’t ready to deal with. But therapy with the kids? That’s another beast entirely.

Dr. O’Grady sees all of them now. Yelena. The kids. Sometimes separately. Sometimes together. Right now, they’re all together. Yelena sits between Maks and Alexia on the couch. Sonny is on the floor, attempting to cram a toy into another toy that is very clearly too small.

Alexia is… watching. Not outright angry, not anymore, but cautious. Taking notes. Filing everything away for later. Yelena can feel it. She talks to her, but there’s a hesitance in her voice, like she’s waiting for the inevitable moment one of them fucks up. And she’s going to have some things to say when they do.

Maks doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but he knows something changed. And he doesn’t quite like it. That’s why he keeps asking when Mommy is coming over for dinner.

Sonny, blissfully oblivious, just knows she has two beds, two toy baskets, and two completely different sets of rules depending on whose house she’s in.

And Kate? Kate is…Well. Kate’s Kate. And at the moment, Kate refuses to do therapy.

Dr. O’Grady shifts in her chair, studying the kids with that careful, quiet way she has. Then, finally, she looks at Alexia.

“Do you have any questions for your mom?”

Alexia is silent for a long moment. She kicks at a loose thread on the couch. Then, finally…

Yelena sees it coming. She tries to head it off.

“Your mom and I both love you,” she says before Alexia can even get the words out, trying not to fidget under Dr. O’Grady’s stare.

Alexia doesn’t answer right away. She looks at the floor.

“Then why don’t you live together anymore?”

Yelena hates that question. There’s no right way to answer it. She takes a slow breath.

“Because sometimes loving someone isn’t enough to make it work.”

Dr. O’Grady shifts slightly like she wants to step in, but she doesn’t. She lets Yelena sit with it. Eventually, Alexia crosses her arms, eyebrows pulling together.

“That’s stupid.”

Yelena exhales.

“Yeah,” she agrees, voice breaking. “It is.”

///

Maks can’t find his left shoe. Alexia forgot she needed a poster board for a project due today. Sonny still refuses to put pants on.

Yelena doesn’t remembers ever having to herd all three of them alone before this. Kate was always there. Or she was dealing with one or two of them somewhere else. Yelena is starting to think this could be considered an Olympic-level sport.

"Alexia, you’re getting way too old to be this disorganized…”

"You’re supposed to help me!"

"I am helping you by telling you to get your things together before the morning it’s due!"

"Mamaaaaa," Sonny whines, wiggling dramatically to push her pants down.

"Yes, I know, pants are oppression, but unfortunately, they are also necessary."

Maks is spinning in circles. "I forgot what I was looking for!"

"YOUR SHOE," Yelena yells, shoving Sonny’s leg into her pants while simultaneously digging through a pile of backpacks.

"OH RIGHT," Maks shouts, then immediately forgets again and starts talking about platypuses.

Somehow, by sheer force of will, Yelena gets them all out the door and into the car.

///

By the time she drops them off at school and daycare, she feels like she’s run a fucking marathon.

She grabs a second coffee, sits in her car for a full minute, then forces herself to drive to the lab, trying to scrape together whatever energy she has left.

The second she walks in, her assistant greets her with a loving grimace, “Were they up all night again?”

Yelena shoves her sunglasses onto her head. “No. They actually slept all night. I think this is just what my face looks like now.”

“Did YOU sleep?”

“Not really.”

He makes a noise of disapproval but hands her a file.

“Well that explains it…Review this before the briefing.”

“Remind me why I don’t just quit and become a full-time mom.”

“Because you’d lose your mind within a week.”

“…Right, yeah.”

He gives her a pointed look.

“Read the file. Let me know if you need me to make any changes”

Yelena sighs. "If I must."

She takes her coffee and heads to her office.

///

The bedtime routine is…organized chaos. Heavy on the chaos part. It’s, as always, a battlefield.

Getting them clean takes twice as long as it should because Maks keeps dunking his head underwater like he’s training for some kind of deep-sea survival mission and Sonny shrieks like she’s being waterboarded. Alexia refuses Yelena’s help with her shower because ‘she’s not a baby like the others’, but Yelena can still hear her struggling to detangle her hair in the bathroom down the hall. Meanwhile, Yelena, soaked to the elbows, tries and fails to contain the splashing, the wailing, and the general bedlam that is bath time.

By the time the kids are clean and wrapped in towels, Yelena is exhausted. And it’s not over.

Sonny fights sleep like it’s an act of war. Maks forgets how pajamas work every single night. Alexia acts like brushing her teeth is akin to brutal manual labor.

“Okay. Final warning. If you’re not in bed in five minutes, I’m making both of you sleep in the bathtub.”

Sonny, sitting on the floor, gnawing on a toy block, looks up with interest. “Bath?”

Maks gasps and speaks over his sister.

“You can’t do that!”

“I absolutely can.”

Alexia groans.

“Maks, she’s lying.”

“Am I?” Yelena raises an eyebrow, the tiniest smirk pulling at her lips.

Sonny drops the block. “Bath?”

Yelena scoops her up. “Oh, now you want a bath? Funny, because I remember you screaming bloody murder during your actual one.”

Sonny frowns like she’s been betrayed.

“You didn’t tell her she had to sleep in the bathtub.” Maks grumbles.

“She’s a baby. Babies don’t sleep in bathtubs.” Alexia clarifies.

“So she’s the favorite?”

“Absolutely.” Yelena ascertains.

When Yelena gets all three of them into pajamas and actually in bed, she’s wrecked. So much so that when they ask to sleep in her room, she doesn’t fight it. She secretly welcomes it. An empty bed is an awful thing.

///

Alexia sprawls out on Yelena’s bed, flipping through something on her iPad while Yelena wrestles Sonny into a clean diaper. Maks, fresh in his dinosaur pajamas, sits on the foot of the bed, dramatically flipping through a book like he’s deeply unimpressed.

“What are we reading?” Yelena asks, rubbing her tired eyes.

Maks huffs.

“I want to read the shark book, but I think we left it in Mommy’s car.”

“So pick something else.”

Maks flops onto his back.

“But I want the shark book.”

“Maksimilian.”

He groans, rolls onto his stomach, and flips a few pages.

“Fine. This one.”

Yelena takes the book from him, barely glancing at the title before he immediately shakes his head.

“No, wait. Not that one.”

Alexia doesn’t even look up. “Oh my God, pick a book.”

“You’re so bossy.” Maks scowls at her.

“I’m the oldest.”

Sonny, half-asleep on Yelena’s chest, perks up.

“Me book.”

“It’s not your turn!” Maks argues.

“Me book.” The toddler pushes back aggressively.

Alexia sighs heavily.

“Just let Sonny pick.”

Maks narrows his eyes, and the histrionics dialed to a twelve, he slides the pile of books toward Sonny. Sonny doesn’t even look at them. She just pats the top book with an incomprehensible babble. Maks sighs, defeated.

“Fine. We’re reading this one.”

Yelena shakes her head, flipping it open.

“Alright, it’s bedtime for real now.”

By page five, Sonny is completely knocked out, sprawled over Yelena’s chest like a tiny human heater. Alexia has shifted, eyes closed, curled up on her side. Maks fights it, blinking slower and slower, trying to keep himself awake. Come the end of the first chapter, he’s practically asleep, too. Yelena closes the book and carefully shifts Sonny. Then Maks mumbles something. Yelena glances down, brushing a stray strand of blonde off his face.

“Hmm?”

“Mommy doesn’t read anymore.” He barely opens his eyes.

The words hit low in her stomach, but Yelena continues to smooth a hand over his hair.

“Yeah? Since when?”

Maks shrugs sleepily, barely nodding before he fully drifts off. Yelena doesn’t move. Just sits there, staring down at him, at Sonny, at Alexia…listening to the slow, steady rhythm of their breathing.

Kate used to read to them. Every night. Even if she was exhausted. Even if she barely had time. She always made time. Yelena doesn’t know what it means that she stopped. And she doesn’t like that she doesn’t know.

When she moves to stand, she glances up and finds that her daughter is still awake. Alexia staring back at her. Watching her.

“You should be sleeping…Do you want me to read more?”

Alexia shifts under the blanket.

“You don’t have to try so hard.”

“I’m just…doing my best.”

Alexia doesn’t answer for a long moment. Then, finally, she shrugs then rolls onto her side, turning her back to Yelena. Yelena knows that’s as much of an answer as she’s going to get. She sighs, pressing a kiss to Sonny’s forehead before gently laying her down between Alexia and Maks. She tucks the blanket around them, smoothing it over Maks’s shoulders before slipping out of the room.

///

The apartment is finally quiet. Yelena leans against the doorframe for a second, exhaling.

There’s still a mess in the kitchen. Crumbs on the floor. A juice cup on the counter. One of Maks’s socks mysteriously on the bookshelf.

She should clean. She should read some reports. She should do literally anything productive. Instead, she drags herself to the couch and collapses, rubbing her temples.

Tomorrow, she has to take them back to Kate. And that, as always, is the part she dreads the most.

///

The morning is a blur of cereal bowls and half-packed backpacks and Maks losing his shoe. Again.

And then they’re in the car, and the drive feels like it always does. Soul annihilating. The car is mostly peaceful, filled only with the occasional hum of the radio and Maks mumbling half-formed stories in the backseat.

When she pulls into the garage, Kate is already waiting. Leaning on her car, parking spot next to her empty. This has become their routine. Yelena doesn’t know what she expects. Maybe another fight. Maybe some passive-aggressive remark about their scheduling. But when Kate steps forward, she doesn’t say anything at all.

She looks…off. Kate isn’t cold. Not exactly. She’s distant. Detached. It’s subtle. So subtle that if Yelena hadn’t known Kate for two decades, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. But she has. And she does.

Kate’s always been a controlled kind of chaotic. Loud but focused. A hurricane with a purpose. But now? Her energy is different. Unsettled. Her clothes are rumpled, like she just pulled them out of a pile on the floor. Her hair is messier than usual. And her eyes…fuck, her eyes…there’s something off about them. Even the shade of blue looks Not Right to Yelena. Like she’s too wired and too exhausted at the same time. But Yelena doesn’t say anything right away.

Kate helps Maks unbuckle his seatbelt. Alexia lingers, hesitating before stepping out. Sonny is half-asleep in the car seat, unaware. Yelena quietly works on unstrapping the toddler.

Alexia and Maks barrel past them into the elevator area, barely giving Kate a passing glance before heading inside. Kate doesn’t react to them, doesn’t make any move to pull them into a hug or ruffle their hair. That’s weird. Kate has always been the one who reached for them first. Always touched their heads, their shoulders, their backs. Subtle, barely-there things that had nothing to do with a greeting and everything to do with ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’. But now? Zero. That’s not something her old Kate would do.

Kate takes Sonny from Yelena’s arms without a word, shifting her weight like she can’t stand still for too long. Her jaw is tight, her eyes unreadable, like she’s narrowly holding something together.

“You okay?” Yelena asks, watching her carefully.

Kate glances at her, startled.

“What?”

“You look…” Yelena hesitates, watching Kate more closely.

Kate’s expression falters for just a second before locking back into something unreadable.

“Just tired.”

It’s too fast. Too defensive. Yelena frowns.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Kate scoffs, shifting Sonny on her hip.

“Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Yelena crosses her arms, softens.

Kate’s expression tightens.

“It’s not your job anymore.”

There’s a heat behind her words. Not full fire…just embers, waiting to catch.

“Kate.”

“I have to put Son down for her nap.”

The finality in her tone is clear. Yelena doesn’t push. Kate turns and walks into the elevator area without another word. Yelena watches her.

The kids move inside the elevator, dragging their bags with them. Maks waves at Yelena with a smile. Alexia glances back just once before disappearing through the door. Kate doesn’t linger. She steps inside. The door closes.

Yelena stays in the car for a moment, staring at the elevators. She doesn’t know what she just witnessed. But she knows Kate. And something isn’t right.

After a long pause, she pulls out her phone and dials. Susan picks up on the third ring.

“Hi! You still owe me that girls night by the way. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Yelena forces a laugh.

“We will. I promise….When’s the last time you talked to your sister?”

Susan goes silent, then sighs.

“What did she do now?”

“Nothing…That’s the problem.”

“Define ‘nothing’.”

“I don’t know. She feels off. The kids ran inside, and she barely looked at them…When did you last talked to her? Saw her?”

Yelena waits.

“Not for a while.”

“Why?”

Susan sighs. “Yelena…”

“I’m not starting anything,” Yelena says quickly. “I just…I know her. And I can feel it.”

“I love that loser, I do. But she’s a goddamn mess. And I can’t…be around her energy right now. She doesn’t listen. So why would I bother talking? I’m letting her sit in her shit for a while. She needs a time out.”

Yelena hesitates, debating how much to say. She doesn’t want to stir the pot if there’s nothing there. But she knows what she saw.

“She seems…I don’t know.” Yelena admits. “Something’s not right. I’m worried.”

Susan doesn’t argue. That silence says enough. Yelena’s stomach twists.

“You are too, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know either.”

“I don’t buy that.”

Susan groans.

“You two are so annoying. Always in each other’s business even when you’re divorcing.”

Yelena tightens her grip on the steering wheel.

“She’s technically still my wife…For a couple more weeks at least.”

Susan doesn’t say anything at first. Then…

“…I don’t think she’s okay, but that’s her own doing. If it makes you feel better, I’ll check on her.”

“It would make me feel better. Thank you…And, uh…let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

They hang up.

Yelena sits there for another beat, staring at her phone, waiting for something she can’t quite name. But nothing happens. So she starts the car. And drives away.

/// — \\\

Kate’s days without the kids are nearly unbearable. Time stretches in all the worst ways. Dragging. Bleeding into itself until she loses track of it completely. She hates them.

She never used to feel alone in her own house. Even before the split, even if she and Yelena weren’t speaking for whatever stupid reason, there was always noise. The kids. T he creaky floorboards. The way Yelena would sigh dramatically over some work thing as she sat at the kitchen table, tapping her pen against her laptop. Even if they weren’t talking, Yelena had been there. Had been there for years. And now she’s not. Now the apartment is dead quiet.

Kate wakes up early out of habit, but there’s no reason to. No Sonny babbling. No Maks breaking anything. No Alexia blasting cartoons way too damn early. No one to force her out of bed except herself.

Some mornings, Kate stays there for hours.

Other mornings, she gets up and makes too much coffee for one person. A habit. She drinks one cup and lets the rest sit on the counter until it goes cold. She doesn’t pour it out. Just leaves it there, staring at it like it might do something.

Without the kids, without anything to distract her, it all comes creeping in. The resentment. The regret. The rage. She’s so fucking angry. At Yelena. At herself. At this entire fucking situation.

She tells herself she doesn’t miss Yelena, because that would imply some kind of softness, and she’s not soft about this. The divorce was necessary. Yelena didn’t fight for them, so Kate had to do what she always does…fix the problem. Cut off the loose ends. Move the fuck on.

Except she hasn’t moved on. She can’t. She sees Yelena constantly. At custody exchanges. At the kids’ school. In Maks’s stubborness, in Alexia’s face, in Sonny’s little mannerisms.

Kate spends half her time trying not to think about Yelena, and the other half convincing herself she doesn’t care what Yelena does anymore. But she does. She does care. And that pisses her off more than anything.

Because Yelena is fine. She sees it. At drop-offs, at pick-ups. The way Yelena carries herself now. Like she’s lighter. More put-together. Like she’s thriving in a way that Kate isn’t. She looks good. Not just physically, but okay. Relaxed. Settled. Like this divorce didn’t fucking gut her the way it has Kate.

It makes Kate want to fucking scream. Because this isn’t how it was supposed to go. Yelena was supposed to hurt too. Yelena was supposed to fucking fall apart, and instead, she’s just…fine.

Kate should be happy about that, right? The mother of her kids is handling this well. She’s adjusting. She’s making it work. So why does it make Kate feel like she’s losing the divorce? Even if its not a game, she feels like she’s losing and that enrages her most days.

The days without the kids stretch into themselves. Her routine is shot to hell. Work doesn’t keep her occupied the way it used to. The company is fine…thriving, even…but she’s not focused the way she should be. She’ll sit in a meeting and barely process what’s being said, mind wandering to the clock, to the calendar, to how many more hours until she has nothing to do. Nothing to drown out the noise in her head.

She works late, not because she needs to, but because it keeps her occupied. The company has become less about her career and more about noise. She takes meetings she doesn’t have to. Stays long after everyone else has gone home.

She fills the silence with anything she can find.

When the kids aren’t with her, she goes out. Not with friends. Not with anyone who actually knows her. She’s pushed all those people away. So Kate finds noise. Bars. Places where she can be something else, someone else, even if it’s just for a few hours.

She drinks too much. She flirts with people she has no interest in. She lets herself get swept up in meaningless distractions, lets strangers talk at her, lets the bass of whatever music is playing drown out the thoughts clawing at the back of her mind.

It’s all so fucking empty. And the second she’s alone again, it crashes back down. The house. The quiet. The space Yelena used to take up. She doesn’t let herself sit in it for too long. Because that would mean acknowledging it. And Kate refuses to do that.

///

The days with the kids are different. With them, she has structure. Purpose. She wakes up early because she has to.

Sonny cries and Kate moves without thinking, scooping her up, pressing kisses to her hair as she soothes her. Maks is up within minutes, bouncing into her room with a thousand questions before Kate can even blink. Alexia takes longer to wake up. She’s always been like that. Slow in the mornings. Pensive. Observant.

The house is loud when they’re there. It’s never been clearer how much of her life is defined by them.

She moves through the morning on autopilot. Breakfast. Packing lunches. Chasing Maks down to make sure he *actually* has underwear on before they leave. Getting everyone out the door before they’re late for…whatever it is they're supposed to be doing that day.

It’s normal. It’s the only part of her life that still feels like hers. The only time she feels like herself is when they’re here.

But they’re only here half the time. And when they leave, it’s back to square one. Back to silence. Back to wondering why the fuck she let this happen.

///

Kate hears Susan before she sees her. It’s impossible not to.

She’s barely had time to get the kids settled in when the telltale shuffle of sneakers against hardwood floors and the exaggerated sigh of a six-months-pregnant woman reaches her ears.

“Jesus, Katherine. This place is depressing,” Susan mutters as she drops her bag on the entryway table, hand pressed to her lower back. “You know they make lamps that don’t give off ‘abandoned psychiatric ward’ vibes, right?”

“What are you doing here?”

Susan rolls her eyes, shrugging out of her coat.

“Came to see my favorite nieces and nephew.”

“They’re the only ones you have.”

“That’s why they're my favorite. Also…”She glances down at her stomach, patting it. “…the parasite inside me is demanding spaghetti and I know you have to make them dinner so…you might as well make me what I want for dinner too.”

“Does it look like I take requests?” Susan simply glares. Kate huffs a laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “I’ll start some water.”

The kitchen is bright compared to the rest of the house. Not warm, necessarily, but it’s lived in…mostly because the kids exist in it. There are dishes in the sink, half-empty snack boxes on the counter, and an unclaimed sock near the fridge that Kate refuses to acknowledge.

Susan doesn’t hesitate before making herself at home. She drops into a chair at the dining table, stretching her legs out with a groan.

“Where are they?” she asks, rubbing a hand over her belly.

“Sonny’s napping. The other two are probably in their rooms,” Kate says, filling a pot with water. “Leo is still bouncing off the walls from whatever sugar Yelena let him have before drop-off, and Alex is acting like I personally ruined her life by asking her to unload the dishwasher.”

“That one’s your clone, you know.” Kate glares at her, setting the pot on the stove. “Just saying.”

The sound of small feet pounding down the corridor interrupts whatever insult Kate was about to throw back. A second later, Maks appears in the doorway, wide-eyed, slightly breathless.

“SUZU!”

Susan barely has time to react before Maks launches himself at her, arms wrapping around her in a bear hug. She grunts but laughs, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, bug. Miss me?”

“Yes,” Maks says, muffled against her shoulder. Then he pulls back suddenly, eyes dropping to her stomach. “Is the baby still in there?”

“Nope. I already had it, and I just like walking around with a fake belly for fun.”

Maks frowns, considering this. Alexia appears in the doorway a second later, arms crossed. She takes in the scene, then sighs heavily.

“You’re going to make her back hurt.” Alexia reprimands him.

“My back already hurts. Kid’s gonna come out with his arms crossed if the attitude I’m dealing with in utero is any indication.”

“It’s a boy?!” Alexia’s lips twitch in a half smile.

Susan shrugs.

“Dunno. Doctor won’t tell me.”

“Why?” Kate inquires, confused.

“Because we told them we don’t want to know.” Susan smirks at her sister.

“You don’t want to know?” Maks’ face scrunches in disbelief.

“Nope. Gonna be a surprise.”

Maks looks appalled. Kate watches them interact, something unsteady curling in her gut. It’s too normal. Too easy. Too much like how things used to be. She turns back to the stove, stirring the water just for something to do.

///

Later, after dinner, bedtime is a full-blown event.

Susan tries to help, but Kate stubbornly refuses the assistance. So Susan sits back and watches, arms resting over her stomach, amusement clear on her face.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” she points out as Kate struggles to get Sonny settled in her crib.

“I don’t need your help.” Kate glares at her, jaw tight.

Susan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. Just waits.

Eventually, Maks and Sonny are both down, Alexia disappears into her room with her headphones in, and Kate trudges into the living room, exhausted.

“You can go now.”

“Yeah, no. We’re not gonna do that.”

“Do what?”

Susan gestures at her, at the house, at the entire situation.

“This thing where you pretend you’re fine when you’re very clearly not.”

 “Suze…” Kate grits her teeth.

“You look like shit.”

“That’s not your problem. Not anyone’s problem.”

Kate begins to tidy up. Just to do something. Just to not have to look at her sister.

“You always do this.”

“Oh, great. Here we go.”

Susan doesn’t let Kate get away with it. She pushes off the couch and steps forward, voice steady. Aimed.

“You’re too old for this, you know?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Susan takes a step closer, eyes narrowing.

“It means you’re too grown to be acting like DJ.”

The room goes silent. Kate’s whole body locks up. There are certain things you don’t fucking say. Certain things you don’t bring up. Certain wounds that have been closed…or at least buried so deep they should be closed. Susan just cracked one wide open.

“You need to watch yourself.”

“Why? Did I hit a nerve?”

Kate flinches. Her fingers twitch at her sides, hands curving into fists. Susan doesn’t stop.

“You remember how Deej used to tell us he was fine? How he always had some excuse for why his life was going to shit?” Her voice is razor-sharp now, hitting Kate exactly where she doesn’t want to be hit. “How it was NEVER his fault? How it was everyone else who didn’t understand? How he could quit whenever he wanted, how it wasn’t THAT bad. You…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Kate snaps.

Susan does not.

“YOU are doing the same fucking thing. You’re making the same excuses, telling the same fucking lies. And you want to know the real kicker? The thing that set DJ down that road was them. It was Mom and Dad. It was growing up in a house where love felt like a fucking death match where no one ever got out whole…Just like the house you’re making your kids live in now.”

Kate feels her vision blur with rage.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

Susan tilts her head, giving her this look…an almost pitying, disgusted look.

“You’re not even Mom. You turned into Dad, Kate.”

Kate sees red.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

Susan doesn’t even flinch. She just stands there. Watching her. Kate’s breathing is ragged. Her pulse is roaring. Susan doesn’t even look shaken. Just…resigned.

“You really think you’re better than him?” she asks, voice softer now. “You really think you’re doing something different?”

Kate’s throat burns. Susan stares at her for another long moment. Then, she shakes her head.

“You know what’s funny?” Susan tilts her head, voice deceptively casual. “I told you this would happen. I told you, years ago, the first time you tried to pull this divorce shit, that if you actually went through with it, Yelena was going to thrive, and you were going to be miserable. And, huh…Look at that.” She gestures at Kate. “I was fucking right.” Susan shakes her head. “I know this isn't even how bad it’s going to get because, how do you think its going to feel when she starts seeing someone else. I also told you that, remember? Your wife…”

“Ex-wife.” Kate corrects venomously.

"YOUR WIFE is one of the best people I've ever met. I don't even know how she's still single. But she won't be for long. So what happens to you when you have to see that? Hmmm? Her. With someone else. Your kids in another family. And you won't be able to say shit about it."

Kate wants to hit something. Wants to break something. Wants to scream 'You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about', but she can’t. Because deep, deep, deep down…a part of her knows Susan isn’t wrong.

“You don’t get to be mad at her for moving on when you did this..." Susan surveys her. Takes in her rigid stance, her baller up fists. She shakes her head. "Deej resented you for being okay. For being able to come out of it fine. To have a life after all that shit when he couldn't. You're doing that now. You're Deej. And you're dad. How sad, Kate."

“Fuck you.” Kate’s voice is raw when she finally speaks.

Susan’s mouth tightens, but she doesn’t look mad. Just… disappointed. Like she expected more. Like she’s done.

“Yeah,” Susan mutters, grabbing her coat. “Fuck me, I guess.”

Susan watches Kate for another long beat. Then, she heads for the door. She doesn’t even slam the door when she leaves.

The quiet is worse.

Kate stares at the spot Susan just vacated, chest heaving, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles are white.

She rushes to the living room bar cart and pours herself a drink. She drinks it too fast. It burns. She pours another.

The cacophony in her head doesn’t quiet.

Kate doesn’t even bother with a glass the third time. She reaches for the whiskey bottle and drinks straight from it. She barely registers the sting. She just takes another gulp. And then another.

She presses the back of her hand to her mouth and exhales hard through her nose, blinking rapidly, as if that’ll stop the fucking shaking in her hands.

She’s fine.

She just needs something to take the edge off. To drown out Susan’s fucking voice still bouncing around in her head.

You're Deej. And you're dad. How sad, Kate.

Kate tips the bottle again. She isn’t her father. She isn’t. She just…fuck. FUCK!

Kate grabs her phone, swiping through contacts she has no intention of calling. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want a conversation. She wants noise. She wants a distraction. She wants to drown in something. Anything. Whatever isn’t this feeling.

She closes her messages and opens a dating app instead.

The profile pictures blur together. Smiling faces, sultry smirks, bio after bio of meaningless bullshit. She barely reads them. Doesn’t care. She thumbs through them, swiping right on the ones that look like they won’t talk too much. She has her first match within seconds.

Hey.

Hey.

What are you up to?

Nothing. You?

Nothing. Want company? Come over.

Kate exhales slowly. The resounding ‘yes’ in the response might be the best word Kate’s heard all day.

///

Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.

Kate barely remembers which one she picked, but it doesn’t matter. She opens the door, and there’s a girl standing there. Brunette, short skirt, black boots, waaaaay younger than Kate should be fucking. This girl is the exact opposite of everything Yelena is. Was that intentional? Kate doesn’t know.

“Hey,” the girl purrs, leaning against the doorframe like she’s done this a thousand times before.

Kate could not care less.

“Yeah. Come in. You have to be quiet. My kids are sleeping.”

The girl steps inside without hesitation, glancing around like she’s sizing up the upscale apartment. Kate doesn’t offer her a drink. Doesn’t ask about her night. Doesn’t bother with the niceties. She doesn’t fucking want to know this girl’s name. She just grabs her by the wrist and drags her to the bedroom.

To her bed. The one she used to share with Yelena. The girl giggles.

“Someone’s impatient.”

Kate doesn’t answer. She just pushes her onto the bed and crawls on top of her.

It’s easy. Mindless. Lips on skin. Hands tugging at clothes. A body beneath her that doesn’t fight her. That doesn’t argue. That doesn’t demand anything from her. The girl moans and sighs and moves the way Kate wants, and for a little while, it’s quiet in Kate’s head.

///

An hour or so later, they lay in bed. Catching their breaths. The girl leans over to grab her purse, digs through it.

“You want a bump?”

Kate freezes. The girl is grinning at her, lazy, sated, pulling a little baggie from her purse.

“Or…nah?” the girl teases, shaking it between two fingers.

Kate stares at it. Her pulse kicks. She hasn’t done coke (or any drugs for that matter) since she was a dumbass college kid with no responsibilities and no consequences. Since before that night Yelena caught her getting high and ripped her a new one.

The smart thing would be to say no. The right thing would be to say no.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Kate’s never been known for being smart or right.

The girl grins wider and dumps a little onto the nightstand. Kate watches, detached, as she takes the first hit, then taps her finger against the surface.

“Go for it.”

Kate hesitates. For a second. Then, before she can talk herself out of it, she leans down and does the line.

Fuck.

She tips her head back. Blinks. It’s been a long time. The burn in her nose is familiar. The rush that follows is instant. She exhales hard, and it’s like everything loosens.

“That good, huh?” The girl laughs, pressing closer.

Kate grins. For the first time all fucking night, she grins. And then she rolls the girl onto her back and fucks her again.

She doesn’t think about the fact that this is the same bed Yelena used to fuck her in. She doesn’t think about the fact that she doesn’t even remember this girl’s fucking name.

She just chases the high, drowns herself in it. And when it wears off…Kate simply does another line.

///

Kate leans against the bathroom sink, staring at herself in the mirror. Her pupils are blown, her skin flushed. She looks awake. Alert. More alive than she has in weeks.

She sniffs hard, then runs the back of her hand under her nose just to be sure. The girl…fuck, what was her name?…is still sprawled out in her bed, half-asleep, looking as wrecked as Kate should feel. But Kate doesn’t feel wrecked. She feels good. She feels…quiet.

It’s the first time in months that her head isn’t roaring with noise. The static is gone.

Kate steps out of the bathroom, grabbing her phone off the dresser as she moves. 4:58 AM. The kids could wake up any second. She shakes the girl’s shoulder.

“You gotta go.”

“Mmm, rude.” The girl groans, cracking one eye open.

“I’m serious. Put your clothes on.” Kate doesn’t humor it.

The girl groans louder, stretching like a satisfied cat, then finally starts pulling her clothes on.

“At least let me have coffee before you kick me out.”

Kate doesn’t answer. She’s busy checking the nightstand.

There’s still a little left in the bag. She rolls it between her fingers. The girl catches the movement and smirks.

“Want another?”

“Yeah.” Kate has zero hesitation this time.

She takes two more lines before walking the girl to the door. She doesn’t feel tired. She doesn’t feel drained. She feels ready.

By the time the kids wake up, Kate is on it. Breakfast is already going, lunches are packed, backpacks are lined up by the door.

Alexia steps into the kitchen, brow furrowed.

“You’re happy.”

Kate grins, flipping a pancake.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…smiling. It’s different.”

Kate tosses a pancake onto a plate and slides it in front of her.

“Mom just woke up in a good mood.”

Something pricks at Alexia…but she just nods and lets it go.

Maks, oblivious, scrambles up onto a chair and immediately launches into his morning monologue about some game he’s playing on the iPad. Sonny happily plays on her mat.

Kate moves through it all effortlessly. No headache. No irritation. No exhaustion pressing down on her ribs. It’s easy. They’re loud. But she’s quiet. The right kind of quiet.

///

Kate gets them to school on time. No scrambling, no forgotten homework, no yelling over missing shoes. She even remembers that today is Sonny’s picture day and gets her all dressed up.

It’s perfect.

And then…Kate looks down at her phone.

Seven missed calls.

Fifteen messages.

Her assistant’s name dominates the screen:

Where are you??

You have that Impact Co. meeting in ten.

KATE!…

The meeting started.

ANSWER YOUR PHONE.

Kate blinks. The noise rushes back.

She was supposed to be at work an hour ago. She groans, forcing herself to think. She can still make it. She can just blame it on traffic, make a joke about how it’s been one of those mornings…

But her feet aren’t moving toward her car.

She looks up.

The bar is still there.

The same one she used to drag DJ out of. The one where she got her head bashed in for trying to fight with the dealers.

It’s still standing. Still open. Still servicing its…special clientele. The smart thing would be to keep walking. To go to work, fix her fuck-up, act like everything is normal…But Kate doesn’t feel smart right now. She doesn’t want to be.

She shoves her phone into her pocket and steps inside.

The smell is the same. Stale beer, sweat, something funkier underneath.

The bartender doesn’t even look up as she slides onto a stool. She orders whiskey. Downs it in two gulps. Then she looks for someone who can sell her what she really came here for.

It doesn’t take long.

///

Kate walks out of the bar with a bag of coke in her pocket and no intention of letting the noise get the better of her until she has to pick the kids up from school.

[rasp-my-berry]

a summer glowup pt. 2 // klitz x chubby reader

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

unfortunately i got really high and forgot to add in the part where they make their relationship off and got straight to the smut. additionally, it has been a significant amount of time since my last work and i wold like to apologize ahead of time if you pick up on stylistic changes in my writing. i am very out of practice and only just got in the mood to finish this work,, so quality definitely isn't what it used to be. i also haven’t completely gotten used to tumblrs format so i’m sorry this is so ugly

i also have failed to proofread as always since my keyboard thinks its funny to mess w me rn. ill most likely come back and make some tweaks eventually. i always do lol

the rest of that first day was... weird to say the least. people who wouldn't usually give you the time of day, as if you were a regular stain on the wall, suddenly had some interest in you. was it because you spent the summer out of state? because you came back with an entirely new wardrobe? because you were suddenly confident, suddenly had interesting things to say?

that's ridiculous. you refused to believe it. besides, you didn't care what they thought. all you cared about was the trio of boys and your best friend. they were the only people you wanted to spend time with. and who could blame you? you'd only known them for all of highschool up until now.

by the end of the day, you were exhausted from all the attention you had been receiving. you wondered if this was how new students and anyone regularly receiving that much attention felt. it was awful.

but finally, the end of the school day. you could leave and go home, do whatever you want- oh, right!! klitz wanted to hang out after school! suddenly you felt nervous again. not that you knew why. you'd already kissed the guy, so he knows how you feel. what's the big deal? there is no big deal.

until, of course, you saw him approaching, with eli and matt in tow. eli had a smug grin on his face and matt was snickering at something you couldn't hear. klitz looked like a wreck. sweaty, shaky, and pale. scratch that last one. he's always been that pale. poor boy hardly ever sees any sun. you'd have to change that. get some healthy color in him.

"hi guys!!" you smiled, waving as you walked over.

eli smiled and waved at you, walking over faster than the other two. he was always like this. an overexcitable puppy, you liked to call him. you were surprised he didn't pee a little bit when he first saw you earlier today. he always seemed like the type to pee when he gets excited.

"hey y/n." klitz greeted nervously, his voice shaky. he was definitely nervous for whatever you had in store for him.

you grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, using your other hand to hold his arm and keep him at your side. "hey klitzy boo~"

matt greeted you and took his spot in the small circle you four were forming. "so, what're we doing tonight?" he asked.

"oh, sorry. klitz and i are gonna be... uh.. occupied tonight-" you started before eli cut you off.

"UGHHHHHHHH!" he groaned in exasperation. "you mean to tell me, we don't get to see you for a whole summer and you're gonna spend your first night back with klitz??? i always knew you wanted to ride him like a freak, but i never thought i'd see the day you would abandon us to do it!"

you had to laugh. you had to give it to him. eli's definitely funny. a giggle passed your lips and klitz started trembling. you just sounded so angelic.

"i PROMISE we'll hang out tomorrow! i just have some lost time to make up for with klitz." you defended. "besides, i bet you guys don't even know he kissed me this morning. that kinda changes things a little bit."

"HE KISSED YOU?" matt shouted.

"WHAT DOES THAT CHANGE??" eli's shouts overlapped matt's.

you laughed. "you know what i mean, right klitz? can you explain it to them?"

he sighed, hating to have to explain this to his friends. "yea, i kissed her earlier. and it doesn't change everything but it might just mean that... yknow... we won't be spending every day together.. y/n and i are gonna want private time too."

"WHY NOT?" eli started. "yknow i wouldn't mind watching you two do a little.." he started wiggling his fingers together from both hands, trying to make a sexual gesture??

your jaw dropped and you had to contain your laughter. "oh, stop it! only way you'll be seeing that is if we decide to tease you and send a video." you rolled your eyes.

eli visibly slouched, your words distressing him. he turned to klitz, grabbing his shoulders roughly. "klitzy.... klitzy, klitzy, klitzy..."

"what, eli?" klitz hesitated, scared of what eli could possibly have in store.

"OH BABIE PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE," eli dropped to his knees, tugging on klitz's pant leg and literally sobbing at this point. tears streamed down his cheeks like a waterfall and snot was collecting on his upper lip. disgusting. " YOU GOTTA FUCK HER, BRO! FOR ME!! FOR MEEEE!! RIDE IT, SUCK IT, LICK IT, SPIT ON IT FOR MEEEEEEE!!!"

people were beginning to stare, and klitz hated having people look at him. he would say anything to get eli to stop this tantrum. "yea, whatever, dude. i'll do her raw and hard just like you would want to..."

"promise?" eli squeaked, holding out his pinky finger.

klitz sighed, putting his pinky out as well and linking it with eli's. "i promise."

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. you wouldn't necessarily be upset if klitz followed through with that promise...

"well, we really should get going. we wouldn't want to be late for.... yea!!" you smiled, tugging klitz's arm and trying to get him away from the boys. "we'll talk to you guys tomorrow!! fill you in on all the details, don't even worry. it'll be like you guys were there!! promise!"

matt rolled his eyes. "what if we don't WANT-"

"THANK YOU!" eli sobbed, still on his knees. he turned to matt and began hugging his legs, crying into his knees.

taking a deep breath, you hugged klitz's arm, pulling him in the direction of your house. it wasn't a long walk, and not an unfamiliar one, either. ever since you had become friends with the tripod, everybody regularly got at everybody's houses. it wasn't uncommon for you to wake up to your mom telling you the boys were waiting downstairs. it was a little silly, actually.

"so, my parents actually won't be home tonight..." you started. "they wanted to visit my grandparents, so we've got the house to ourselves! we can do whatever you want."

"whatever i want?" he gulped, that nervous feeling rising up again.

you nodded your head. "yup!" and popped the 'p' as you spoke.

he hummed in thought. "well, we could watch that movie you were telling me about last time... or do our homework."

"homework?" you raised a brow. "i am not doing that shit. i'll get to it tomorrow."

he laughed. "ok, ok. how do you feel about the movie then?"

"i like that idea!! we've got some snacks at home so we can have fun getting a whole spread out!" you smiled.

once the two of you got inside, you let klitz raid the pantry and fridge while you ran around trying to find the dvd for the movie you mentioned to him not too long ago. once you finally found it, you sang victoriously. "finally!"

running back to the living room, you paused at the base of the stairs, watching klitz for a moment. he was sitting in front of a coffee table, setting up the snacks very carefully. he sat back for a second before leaning back and turning a bag of chips just a few centimeters over. he sat back and made a motion with his hands as if to say "stay."

you didn't want to startle him, let alone make him think you're making fun, but you giggled. "oops- sorry. it doesn't have to be perfect y'know. we're probably gonna mess it up anyways."

his eyes widened at that. at first he took it the wrong way, seeing only a sexual meaning in that statement. then he realized you were right. reaching for snacks and pulling them out of the bags would only result in a messed up sequence of what he originally laid out. he felt so silly for being so easily flustered.

"you're right. i just wanted it to look nice." he stuttered.

you smiled, taking a spot on the floor to put the dvd in. "well, i appreciate the effort klitzy poo."

he smiled and sat back on the couch, clearing his throat out of nervous habit. once the dvd was in, you grabbed the remote and took a spot next to klitz, instantly snuggling up in his side. he tensed up at that, fear and nervous thoughts instantly swarming his mind.

what if he smells bad? what if you can hear how fast his heart is beating? what if you can tell how nervous he is by listening to his breathing pattern? are you as nervous as he is? it doesn't seem like it. why can't he be as relaxed as you???

the movie started and you smiled, snuggling deeper into him. "you're gonna love this!! you like romcoms right?"

"o-oh! yeah! they're popular for a reason." he laughed nervously, and you giggled at how nervous he was.

a part of you liked knowing that you made him this nervous. another part wished he could just relax around you. you knew you would never judge him or anything like that. maybe he didn't know that.

about half an hour into the movie, HALF AN HOUR, there was a sex scene. at this point, klitz had finally relaxed and rested a hand on your hip, occasionally massaging the area subconsciously, as if it was something he'd done a thousand times (which he had. when you went shopping with the boys and it was crowded, he had a habit of holding and pulling you close to him so he doesn't lose you.)

klitz was already tense as it was, but you felt the feminine urge to tease him. with your free hand, you rested it on his thigh, running your thumb over it smoothly, slowly.

you could feel his thigh tense up under your touch and heard his breath get caught in his throat. he was holding his breath, watching you carefully. were you aware of the effect you had on him? could you tell? his hands were shaking and covered in a layer of sweat.

your hand slowly started massaging his thigh, moving up, up, up. you waited for a reaction. but he was focusing so hard on the movie and trying to block out what you were doing to him. he was gonna snap if this went on any longer.

your hand finally got high enough to where he couldn't take it.

he whined and stood up instantly, is if trying to get away before he embarrassed himself. "w... we should do something!!"

"like what, klitzy?" you asked, batting your lashes. "have anything in mind?"

his breath hitched and he could feel a heat pooling in his groin. he sighed. he knew exactly what he wanted to do to you, he just didn't have the confidence to get himself there. fuck it. yolo... or whatever. "let's get freaky."

did he seriously just say that. he could've said literally anything else. he was slapping himself repeatedly in his head, cursing himself for being so damn stupid.

"okay!" you smiled, sitting up.

fuck. he didn't think that would work. you're so pretty. he just wants to worship you, make you feel good in every way possible. "wait, wait, wait- actually???"

you sighed, standing and slowly walking over to him. "klitz, i think you fail to realize just how long i've been waiting for this moment. do you have any idea how long i've been infatuated with you?"

you rested your hands on his chest, slowly sliding them down, down, down to his belt buckle. you gave it a tug and sank to your knees. he could hardly breathe, hardly think. this was actually happening. this wasn't a dream, or some fantasy he was coming up with again.

"w-wait!!" he stopped you. "not like this. i wanted to please you."

your face burned in embarrassment and you shamelessly got butterflies from that statement alone. "oh!" you giggled nervously. but if he wanted to take charge, you would let him. "what do you want me to do?" you asked, standing again.

"just sit back on the couch. make yourself comfortable." he said, lightly nudging you back.

once you were seated he walked over, dropping to his knees before you. he stared into your eyes for a moment, just taking you in. you smiled at him, suddenly a little nervous. you didn't know what to expect from him. you were rigid, sitting up straight and staring down at him.

he offered you a smile back, before looking down. he grabbed your leg, kissing your knee through the pants you were wearing. you suddenly wished you had changed into something else when you had gotten home.

he kissed the top of your bare foot, running a hand along your leg under your pant leg.

he could feel how smooth your skin was, how warm it was. he could smell your perfume. the smell lasted forever, it always had, but this time it was intoxicating. he reached up, slowly following his hands with his lips, kissing a trail from your ankle to your knee. once he reached your thighs, he paused. he looked up at you, double checking that this was what you wanted.

you nodded your head. "keep going." you mumbled, afraid your voice would fail you.

he finally unbuttoned your pants, unzipped them, and tugged them off of you carefully. he stared at the panties you were wearing for a few seconds. he'd seen those before. they were your favorite.

you used to tease him by bending over when you wore skirts and turn around and say 'oops' when you saw he was behind you. just another one of those things he wished for so long you could've done in a different setting. but teasing each other had always been the nature of your friendship.

his breath shuddered, and it left goosebumps on your thighs. his hands were on your knees, gently pushing them apart to make room for his head. you didn't fight him, but god were you nervous.

he kissed your inner thigh, taking a deep breath as he did so. he continued to kiss inward, trailing from your knee all the way up until he was right in front of your clothed pussy. he kissed right at the hem of your panties.

you suppressed a whine. "oh, get on with it already, don't tease me."

he laughed nervously before finally pulling off your underwear. he grabbed a hold of your soft hips and pulled you closer. you were now barely sitting on the couch, your weight being supported by your arms. the closer he got to your arousal, the deeper your breaths became. klitz spread your legs farther, wanting a better view of you.

he could smell you, practically taste you. he'd never admit just how horny that made him. he loved the smell, the look of it all. his cock twitched in his pants, and he had to stop himself from groaning aloud.

he started by kissing you, right above your clit. you shuddered at the feeling, scooting a little farther out. "please, klitz, just- just-"

you would've specified what you wanted but his lips latching on to your clit kind of made you lose your train of thought. you couldn't help it. you moaned instantly.  he hummed against you, dragging his tongue against your clit. reaching up, he sank two fingers into you, gently curling them upward directly onto your sweet spot.

your hands immediately found their way to his head, pulling him closer, cursing aloud all the while. "fuck- right there-"

your moans were enough to stimulate him. he loved the sounds you were making. anytime you moaned, he couldn't help but moan as well. you just sounded so hot, so needy. and knowing he was making you feel so good only urged him to do more, to do better.

you had no idea where he learned to do this. as far as you knew, he was as inexperienced as you were, not that it really mattered anyway. you were just startled.

almost desperate for breath, he pulled away. his glasses were fogged, and his hair was a little messed up.. practically the most arousing vision ever. he pressed his thumb to your clit, the two fingers inside you working their magic while you squirmed on the couch. you wrapped your legs around him, crossing your ankles where they met over his spine. you wanted to keep him as close as possible.

your arms were trembling now, beginning to buckle under your weight just a bit. you whined, the pleasure overwhelming you. you were getting close. you could feel a neediness build up in you, and you could hardly contain yourself.

"harder, faster, faster, fuck-" you panted, throwing your head back.

his free hand came up, kneading the plush of your thigh before trailing further up, under your shirt. he tenderly ran his hands over the soft skin of your stomach before finally finding your right breast. your moans deepened.

"i'm gonna cum-" you warned, your body bending to prepare for the wave of pleasure. he went right back with his mouth, removing his fingers so he could fully taste your pleasure.

he moaned against your clit, pushing you right over the edge. right as your moans turned to a scream, and you pushed his head farther into your pussy, he came as well, effectively ruining his pants.

he moaned against your clit, deeper, longer this time. the electric feel of his voice against your clit sent a shock of your spine, a small whimper leaving your lips. you panted, shocked by the overwhelming pleasure. your ears were ringing and you couldn't quite focus your eyes on anything. "klitz... i.. christ, that's the best i've ever had.."

you couldn't catch your breath for a solid minute, finally sitting up and running a hand through your hair. you noticed the spot on his pants and your hand flew to your mouth. "oh my god-"

he was still catching his breath. he pushed his still somewhat foggy glasses up, and eyes you curiously. "what is it?"

"did you..?" you paused.

he looked down and back up to you, his eyes now fearful. "i'm sorry! i know, it's, like, super pathetic and weird of me-"

"shut up, i think it's hot." you rushed. "did me feeling that good.. make you feel good?"

he nodded his head slowly.

"sick." you paused. "but are you gonna fuck me or are we leaving it at this?"

"whatever you want?" he looked up at you expectantly.

you smiled, batting your lashes at him. "i want you to ruin me. i want your dick balls deep inside me, klitzy."

his eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and his brows raised immediately. he didn't think you were capable of being so vulgar. especially in real life, compared to your texts. he gulped hard. fuck. he took a deep breath before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. he supported his weight on your bare knees, massaging and caressing the skin there.

you sighed dreamily, melting under his touch. your eyes fluttered shut and you smiled. "you don't have to treat me as if i'm fine china." you giggled.

"you're just about as precious to me." he murmured as he stood to sit beside you on the couch.

you nearly swooned aloud, the words alone giving you butterflies. you grabbed a hold of his hands, his soft, gorgeous hands, and pulled him closer to you.

you stared at each other for a moment, awkward and nervous silence settling between the two of you. you raised a hand up to his cheek, cupping it gently. he melted into your touch, sighing deeply. you leaned forward and pressed a short kiss to his lips.

he barely got the chance to kiss back before you pulled away and pressed your hand to his chest, running it along the whole of his torso, stopping at the hem of his shirt. you glance back up at him for a split second, noticing the way he's watching your hands so intensely. a smile pulls at the corners of your lips and you finally lift the shirt up and over his head, throwing it a short distance away.

once again, you ran your hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly beneath your fingertips. your smile widened, and you went further, further down to his belt buckle, undoing it with ease. his breath caught in his throat, nervous once again. you pull his pants down, leaving him in his boxers. you don't say anything, just scoot closer.

you hover over him, your hands on either side of his head, and press another kiss to his lips. "can i keep going?"

"please." he sighs.

you giggle a bit and finally go back to pulling off the final layer. you don't say anything but your eyes widen visibly. it's silent between the both of you for a moment, the movie filling in for your lack of words.

"is something wro-" he starts, before you cut him off.

"KLITORIS??" you shout. "WHY HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THIS FROM ME FOR SO LONG???"

"huh-"

you scream into your hands. there's a panic in your whole body, excited to just devour his cock whole. "klitz, if i had known you had such a juicy, scrumptious, fat cock, i- UGHHHHH-"

you quickly composed yourself, taking a deep breath. when you looked back to klitz, you noticed just how red his face was. you smiled again and he began stuttering.

"um so anyways-"

"i'm gonna ride you." you said with a straight face. "and you're gonna hold me like this."

he gasped, a nervous chuckle following quickly after. "oh-! okay.."

scooting forward and putting your legs on either side of his hips, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your plush hips. his hands were trembling, and you asked again if this was what he wanted, to which he vigorously nodded his head.

you smiled, still looking down at him. his shoulders rested just above the arm rest of the couch, you were almost at perfect eye level with him. "are you gonna take your shirt off?" he asked. "you don't have to, but-"

you practically ripped your shirt off before he could even finish. he was in absolute awe of you. the illumination from the tv made you look almost angelic, looking down on him like this. you were glowing, ethereal. an angel.

his eyes trailed your body from top to bottom, admiring every inch. the way your tits sat, and your soft stomach, your amazing hips, and your thighs that had him weak in the knees. your gorgeous, wet pussy, just moments away from him. his cock twitched and it reminded him of what was about to happen.

"you ready?" you asked.

he nodded his head again, and you didn't need another second to think before slowly lowering yourself on his erection. you let out a shaky breath, looking down and watching to see how much you were taking in. klitz bit his lip, nearly moaning aloud. you were so wet, so warm. so perfect. his hands gripped your hips tighter than you expected. your breath shuddered slightly, your hands finding their place on his shoulders for support. you sank down as far as you could, finally releasing your breath once you stopped. it had hurt, just as expected, but not as bad as you anticipated. raising yourself up again, you started to build a rhythm as best you could.

your breath was unsteady, as were your legs. klitz could hardly bare it. any of it. he wanted to just grab you harder, move you to a rhythm he much more preferred. just absolutely destroy you. he whined suddenly, his fingers on your hips twitching slightly, their grip never loosening.

after a moment or so, klitz finally snapped, his grip somehow tightening. he lifted you and pulled you back down just how he wanted you to. his hips thrusted up into yours, meeting you halfway and creating harder thrusts. he moaned aloud, his breath shuddering slightly. he could barely take it. you were perfect. he felt as though you were made just for him. a perfect fit. you gasped at his sudden action, although pleasantly surprised nonetheless. but he didnt stop there, of course. he continued manipulating your movements at a rhythm he much preferred to the one you were moving to.

his moans flooded the room, louder than the movie you had put on. he was so glad he had finally plucked the courage to say something. he knew things wouldnt be the same after this, and he was perfectly okay with that. this is exactly what he's been dreaming of for years anyways.

he kept pushing and pulling, at first just quicker, but as time passed, you felt him pull you down onto him much rougher than before. you could feel his tip reaching deeper than you thought possible. you moans soon turned into slurred speech, begging him to go quicker, begging to cum.

he didnt want this to end so soon, though. still, he was kind to you, and did as asked. he helped you move quicker again, and began thrusting his hips upward, meeting you in the middle and bringing a roughness to the speed that was needed to push you over the edge.

he watched your body, the way it reacted to his movements, the way it rippled with every thrust. he thought you had never been more beautiful, your makeup smudged and smeared around your eyes from sweat and tears formed from pleasure. sweat glistened on your skin, but still.. gorgeous.

soon enough, he heard your moan get louder, and louder, louder. then he felt your body relax, your walls tightening around him, pulsing with your orgasm. it felt.. divine. klitz was in ecstasy, and he hadn't even cum yet. just watching you come undone made him feel just as good as you did in that moment. he moaned, his brows furrowed and jaw slacked open. you looked absolutely angelic when you were feeling the pinnacle of pleasure. he didn't stop there, though. he grabbed your hips and in a second you were on your stomach, ass up and all. you were nearly exhausted and completely drenched. not just sweat, but the liquid arousal between your legs. he wanted to devour you again, but first, he wanted to cum.

he lined his hips up once more, pressing the tip against your cunt. a shaky breath escaped him as he pressed further, slowly sinking deeper and deeper. once he was in as far as he could go, he released a deep moan at the same time as you. he pulled out and started working up his rhythm again. his moans grew louder and louder. you were still sensitive from your orgasm, and you could feel another rapidly approaching. you hoped klitz was as close as you so you could cum at the same time. his breath was sharp and shallow, but his movements never fell out of rhythm. you turned your head, trying to get a good view of his face. you wanted to see his face twisted in pleasure as he cums. breathy moans turned to whining as his orgasm came closer and closer. he could feel it building up inside him.

he looked down at you, taking in your figure once more. he didn't fail to notice your perfect ass, and the way it rippled in time with his thrusts. god, he thought, she really is out of my league. he couldn't stop himself. his dream girl was right in front of him and holy shit his dick is really inside her. finally, he couldn't take it anymore. he grunted, trying to catch his breath.

"god, y/n, i'm gonna cum!" he started moving faster, fucking you even deeper and harder.

you were getting close, too, the pleasure overwhelming you. tears welled in your eyes and you let out a sob as your orgasm came crashing down on you. klitz came too, your orgasm only bringing him more pleasure, just the right amount to push him over the edge. he pulled out just in time for the thick ropes of cum to shoot across your back. the both of you slumped over and took a minute to catch your breath. tears continued to stream down your face as you recovered from your intense orgasm.

once you could finally speak again, you spoke up. "fuck, klitz... i'm gonna want a lot more days like this, if you don't mind."

"anything for you." he sighed dreamily. he pulled himself up and turned to the tv as he scooched his way over to you. reaching for the remote, he pulled you closer to him. "we won't be finishing this, will we?"

humming a simple response as you shook your head, you snuggled deeper into his embrace with closed eyes. in his arms, you didn't struggle to relax. he was warm and his heartbeat was soothing. suddenly, your eyes shot open.

"we can't tell eli."

[dreamsofbroflovski]

hiii again, I was the person who wrote about the dbd hc post and to write more hcs about kyle, when i wrote that i wasnt really thinking about something in specific, just general hcs about kyle hahaha, howeverr If you don't Mind there Are some ideas i've never seen and i think would be pretty cool (If you don't mind, of course):

- general hcs about His gaming taste (which games he likes,plays,his fav, etc) kyle plays (also would love to ser main 4, but since hes my pookie i focused on him XD)

- how he would be dating a brazilian reader

- main 4 + butters dating (or being friends) with a reader who has autism

you don't need to write all of them (or even write at all), just would love to see more of kyle 🙏🙏

ha. hahaha. ha.

anon, you are ve ry familiar with my game, aren't you?

because i swear this was me when i read idea #2:

for the uninitiated (which anon probably isn't), i AM brazilian, so this is right up my alley lol

unfortunately, i don't think i'm doing idea #3. i'm not autistic, i don't have a lot of knowledge on the subject, and to depict that properly it would require from me a type of research that i'm just incapable of doing at the moment

#1 might happen at some point though. we have a few snippets of the boys' gaming tastes in canon already, but i can always tell canon to fuck itself and just say my own thoughts on the subject

with that out of the way.

KYLE BROFLOVSKI HEADCANONS - DATING A BRAZILIAN READER

Admittedly, he was very intrigued when you first moved to South Park. Why the hell would you come from a tropical country all the way on the opposite hemisphere to a small town in the middle of nowhere in the states? And that’s like, one of the first things he ever asks you - because obviously he volunteers to be the one to hang out with you and show you around. As time passes and you two get together, he’s just secretly grateful that whatever it is brought you to his arms.

Confusion is this guy’s middle name for a while when he starts getting closer to you. Brazil is so very different from the US, but it’s also very different from other latin american countries - even though there are several similarities, some aspects of the culture are very unique, so there’s a lot of him questioning you about it going on.  

Obviously starts taking Portuguese lessons immediately, even if you’re fully fluent in English. It’s an investment, really - God forbid you two break up, he’d at least have the knowledge of a new language.

Once he gets a better grasp of it, starts saying love declarations to you in Portuguese in front of everyone else since they don’t understand the language, making you giggle and blush. Has the cutest little accent, too. The guys keep on asking what the fuck he was talking to you about, he just tells them to piss off.

He gives you gifts on Brazilian Valentine’s Day (which, to unaware readers, is not February 14th! It’s actually June 12th) as well as on American Valentine’s Day. He’s just always looking to spoil his lady, honestly, and an extra excuse for that is very much welcome.

Brazilians are big on family and community. So if you’re close to yours, he’s gonna be so happy and basically bend over backwards trying to get along in order to feel properly included. (Biological or found family! He’s doing that regardless.)

Somewhat disinterested in Brazilian music, to be honest. He’d hate Brazilian Funk and Samba with a passion. More classical MPB is fine, he likes it from an intellectual point of view.

Our literature, on the other hand? He likes it beyond belief. If you’re a reader, you two can have a little book club of your own because he keeps on finding and reading new books that he wants to yap about.

Avoid explaining Brazilian politics to this dude. He’s already at high risk of heart disease due to stress, we are not trying to cut his lifespan in half. (He ends up doing research on his own, and then it’s a whole mess because he keeps on asking rhetorical questions to show just how stupid some parts of it are)

Not fond of the tropical weather, I don't think he fucks with the beach at all for several reasons. If you’re from a coastal city, he’ll visit with you for sure, but he just prefers to do other stuff while he’s there.

Turns FERAL if he sees you in a Brazilian bikini. Crazy possessive if it's around other people, can't get his hands off you if it's in private. (I mean, that goes for any bikini, really. But there's something about the extra skin...)

Carnaval kinda triggers his Jersey side a little bit, lol. He will go with you to a ‘bloquinho’, complain for a while like he’s not enjoying himself, and then all of a sudden Kyley-B is there, wearing a tinsel wig and flip-flops and trying to fight a street vendor because the beer is too expensive.

The amount of proximity and public displays of affection in Brazilian culture freaks him out a little bit at first. He’d get jealous if you greet other men with a kiss on the cheek or a hug, stuff like that. That’s just not how he was raised - but he’ll get around to it eventually, especially if you reward him with a few kisses of his own in front of everyone

All in all, he’s actually adorable about it. He likes knowing stuff, so new cultures interest him greatly - and if he can learn everything there is to know about you, then that’s just the best way.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[biisexualemma]

haunted pt.6. bucky barnes

word count: 1.6k

requested: yes sorry it's been literal years

warnings: alludes to abuse / violence, nightmares, trauma, ptsd

plot: you relive your trauma in your dreams... bucky is there with you

a/n: sorry i just poofed into thin air, i've just been busy and neglected this and just haven't really been writing at all. but i revisited recently and saw someone request more of this series which is so lovely-- anyway, i knew i had a few more parts already written out for this series that i just never finished / edited. so here i am, editing them and trying to stop starting series that i never finish lol (sorry)! anyway, i hope you enjoy, this is very angsty and it remains that way for a while now sorrrrryyy but it's good i swear hehe

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 7 / masterlist

you lay unconscious, deep in sleep but your body, unbeknownst to your mind, was reacting physically to every scenario you encountered in your dreams.

your fingertips twitching as you typed in the code on the computer, your breaths growing short and uneven as you hit one too many failed passcode attempts, sweat lining your brow as you tried again and again, the sirens blaring all around you, overwhelming your senses. 

"shit, shit, shit,"

you muttered under your breath, the code wasn't working. that fucker had fed you false information. in a split second of rage you picked up the keyboard and slammed it down on the desk, watching it shatter in front of you. "fuck!" you panted, head in hands when you realised what came next. you were stuck after attempting to escape. they would get to you eventually and it would be bad when they did. you had been traumatised over much lesser crimes before. 

tears began to fill your eyes, your fingers curled and you repeatedly slammed a fist against your forehead. the sirens piercing your eardrums, seeming to grow louder the longer they rang. "think, think," you sniffled, "fuck— think."

your cheeks were wet now, your hands balled into fists, arms twitching and your lips muttering incoherent whispers. unbeknownst to your body or your mind, the super soldier in the room next over to yours was wide awake, unable to sleep for fear of his own demons. 

you had nothing, no way of getting out. you were stuck. you pushed yourself away from the desk, the swivel chair rolling backwards until it hit something and came to halt. in a second you felt your blood run cold, your jaw tightened, you held your breath in dread of what was to come. of who stood behind you.

your eyebrows knitted together, a small, sharp line forming in between your brows. you knew what you were in for and your body recoiled at the thought. you didn't want to show any weakness, you kept your lips tightly sealed, despite the slight quiver you felt.

"nice try, agent," goosebumps prickled your neck and down your shoulders, feeling his breath ghost your bare skin, hearing the depth of his voice made your stomach knot.

before you could even beg for any kind of mercy, a large, heavy hand was clamped around your mouth, second arm wrapped across your chest, gripping your shoulders forcefully. "i don't want to hear the excuses, agent," you let out a sob you'd been holding in when another agent grabbed your legs, another grabbing your torso as you were lifted up and dragged backwards out of the chair you sat in.

you thrashed your limbs as hard as you could manage but you were outnumbered and overpowered. your eyes were stinging at this point, burning and blurring your vision as you screamed mercilessly.

he pulled out one of his headphones when he heard a thud, the podcast that had been playing, paused and he listened carefully. he waited a minute or so, nothing but silence, and just as he was about to pop the headphone back in his ear he heard it again. he jolted upright this time, it had come from your room. he pulled the covers off himself, eyebrows knitted as he listened intently, slipping his socks on as he waited for another sign. last thing he wanted to do was barge in on you unannounced and interrupt anything. you had done nothing but complain about your lack of privacy while you'd been staying here, so he didn't want to overstep.

but then he heard a sob, followed by muffled shouts and he was quick to leave his room and all of a sudden he was outside your door. he went to open the door, knowing it'd be unlocked (you hadn't been trusted with locks yet) but hesitated, he knew this was such an invasion of privacy. he thought about the countless times he'd dealt with the same thing, he thought about how he'd feel if the roles were reversed.

then came a blood curdling scream and he didn't hesitate to let himself in. he entered, the light from the hallway lit up your bed where you were now sat bolt upright. your eyes open wide, bloodshot, soaked with tears but unresponsive, he knew you were still asleep despite your body thrashing around. you were fighting with your bed sheets, sobbing, heaving and shouting incoherently.

he took a split second to react, in a daze as he witnessed you in a state he'd never expected from you but one that he knew well. he closed the door over, to avoid disturbing anyone else on the floor, but thankfully the rest of the team were pretty spread out.

he perched himself on the edge of your bed, trying to approach with caution so not to cause you anymore distress. "y/n," he spoke clearly, carefully reaching over you and pulling back the bed sheets to free you from their restraints, and cool you down. he noticed the lamp, usually sat beside your bed, was now broken on the floor, next to your book and a few other strewn items.

"y/n," he repeated louder this time, trying to bring you back and snap you out of your daze. your movements were slowing down, becoming weaker, your body fell back against the mattress with a heavy thud, which seemed to be enough to jolt you awake. you rolled onto your side immediately, your body jerking as you sobbed into your pillow, unaware of his presence at first until he spoke again. 

"hey," he mumbled, quiet so not to spook you. you were in such a state, you didn't react much, only looked up at him with heavy, sunken, wet eyes. you hiccuped, your breathing uneven and your body curled into somewhat of a cocoon with your arms wrapped around yourself. "it's ok," he whispered, trying to appear calm even though the lump in his throat was nearly choking him. "you're ok," he repeated, giving you a gentle nod.

your eyebrows furrowed upwards again, a pained expression returning to your features after the brief moment of peace you felt from seeing him next to you was plagued by the memories of your past.

"you're good, you're safe," was all he could think to say, to offer reassurance. he knew too well how disorienting it was to wake up from a nightmare like that, especially in unfamiliar surroundings. you had nothing familiar to offer comfort, other than bucky. 

you nodded your head, coming around enough to know what was real and what wasn't, but images continued to flash in your mind. you used the palms of your hands to apply pressure to your eyelids, jaw clenched tight as you tried to suppress another cry. you just needed to ride it out.

"you want me to give you some space—?" he leaned closer, trying to catch some kind of reaction out of you but there was none. bucky figured he'd give you a few minutes to put yourself together again, while he fetched you a bowl of cereal. 

he halted, half sitting, half standing on his way out when he felt your hand grab his. the metal was cool against your hand, soothing your burning skin as you pulled him back to his seat. your arms hugged onto his hand with a fierce grip.

your guard was down and he was careful about how he went about this, he didn't want to lose what little trust he had with you at this point. he'd only caught a glimpse of you like this, weeks ago and since you had been seriously on your guard. he didn't want a repeat of that.

"i can stay," he muttered. "'m' not doing anythin'— my podcast can wait."

he made sure to get himself comfortable, he had no idea how long you intended for him to stay but he would be here as long as you needed. he carefully slumped off the side of the bed, sitting himself on the floor, never letting his arm (the one you were now cradling in your arms) move an inch so as not to disturb you.

you watched him move around you with care and concern, you felt more at ease with him next to you. you knew he understood.

you looked visibly calmer, your breathing was lighter, hiccups less frequent, eyelashes still wet but your eyelids drooped every fews seconds, your cheeks flushed red. the calm after the storm— he could see it in your face. your hair was messy, you blew out a puff of air when a stray piece of hair kept falling across your face.

he wore a very small, almost non-existent smile watching your failed efforts, his free hand reaching out without thinking to brush the hair out of your face. realising what he'd done, his lips straightened out and his hand froze in place.

he opened his mouth to apologise but you cut him off, you gave a small shake of your head. "it's ok," your voice was quiet, the words came out almost as a croak. "promise," you reassured him.

he nodded stiffly, but to be safe he rested his palm back on his lap, flesh hands to himself. he watched your eyelids grow closer and closer to closing, unable to fight the tire taking over your body again.

you gripped his hand tighter, a small line forming between your brows again as your eyes neared close. "please don't go," you mumbled, your lips grazing the metal palm of his hand as you spoke.

"go to sleep," he whispered back to you, watching your lips part slightly, deep breaths following as you slipped off into a sleep. he gave your hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "i'm not going anywhere."

you woke up late the next morning with your arm dangling over the side of the bed. when you peered over the edge you saw bucky laying on the floor beside your bed, his arm outstretched, hand still locked with yours.

tag list: @caillouthebabywitch @alanis-altair @the-obelisk @seabass17 @bqnners @jihyunncho @inpraizeof @angelpirabbit @the-chocoholic-writer @cjand10 @paintlavillered @leviathanspain @luckyzipperscissorsbat

[tree-obsession]

2.2 SPOILERS!! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK

this is a small lore discussion! mostly speculation and theories- i have not seen leaks about 2.3 plot yet, but i have seen a couple about boothill's character stories, so please keep that in mind!

trigger for mentions of suicide(aventurine) and mega corps(the ipc)

we have to talk about the ending cutscene with aventurine and boothill more! i'll start with my fav parts that no one really has brought up yet:

Aventurine intimidating Boothill after mentioning the guards are out- Boothill sounded so offput and hasty while reassuring him they were just knocked out, and we have to talk about aventurine himself just being intimidating more honestly his glare actually did kind of scare me.

Boothill pointing a gun at aventurine was. well. i'm sorry i did actually laugh at that. boothill i think you should research your targets a bit more honestly that guy is NOT afraid of guns. he fully walked into the nihility and pointed at least one gun at himself, and just got out of his own meticulously-planned suicide. threats of death won't work, sorry. also he has good reason to hate oswaldo schneider as well- threats didn't even have to be used, probably! he would kill him too, probably(revenge arc go go go!!)

the convo between aven and jade was. yeah. why he's betting his life again, i don't know (maybe sarcasm? or it was really just banter?) but it does seem like the two of them aren't super close at all, at least from what little i could gather. also if diamond hurts aventurine the entire fandom will kick his ass, emanator or no, so he better be prepared for that too lol. also, it was a pretty common theory aventurine would leave the ipc after exiting nihility, since acheron presumably broke his ties- i wonder why he went back? perhaps he had no plans as to where to go, or he has some ulterior motive?

how did he get out of nihility so unscathed? (for context, i haven't gotten aven's text messages yet, but i'm aware of some of their contents since they've been floating around w/out spoiler tags. the messages are mentioned a bit here if you wanna avoid spoilering!) i know argenti got him out, but 1) why was argenti there, or where did he even find him? and 2) that seems so random- both argenti and jade confirmed it, but plot-wise what's even the point of argenti pulling him out? also argenti said he was in a "woeful state" when he got out, and apparently the stonehearts are willing to give aven a break (which i'm assuming is major, since stonehearts are super important and have a lot of responsibility, plus he just destroyed a cornerstone) so him already being back on his feet when we see the phone call is a bit weird right away. he doesn't even sound sick, and ratio or any other doctor is nowhere in sight! (message spoilers start here) i'm aware the aventurine cornerstone was fully shattered/destroyed while protecting him from nihility- was he really in there for who-knows-how-long without any protection at all? he's apparently having nightmares and the ipc needed to call in a doctor of chaos to treat him, which is concerning considering his mental health and general will to live were extremely low even before walking into the nihility. like he genuinely has some of the worst will to live i've ever seen in a character or human being- walking through the nihility should have utterly destroyed him mentally and physically, but it didn't. 2.3 HAS to give us a whole lotta context, especially with nihility lore (my favorite aeon, i may be biased) and more about the ipc!

anyway, thank you for reading this poorly formatted, stream-of-consciousness word vomit about 2.2's aventurine lore. hope you liked it! drop ur thoughts in replies and reblogs plz they give me life(although i will be very busy next few weeks, so please don't be offended if you want a reply and don't get it, im so sorry!)

2.2 was peak- a bit slow, but the story was some of the best, if not the best stuff hoyo has given us in terms of writing quality. so great! i cried for sure, and that boss battle was just everything- especially the music. robin my lesbian queen if i didn't have to pull for firefly i would get your lightcone for sure...

see you all next time! thx for sticking around (:

[beefkisser]

Long and sentimental post about TGN incoming!

So I've finally finished all current episodes of The Great North and I have a lot of feelings I want to dump into one post. If you guys don't want to see me putting my metaphorical heart on the table I understand this post may not be for you lol.

General Overview

I just wanted to open this by saying these past few months I've spent getting sucked into this show have been an incredible time. I never expected this silly cartoon to have such an impact on me but at the end of the day I'm SO grateful it did.

There's a lot to get through here so I'm going to divide the contents of this post into 3 parts.

1)The Community, 2)Personal Experience, and 3)What's Next?

Part I: The Community

The community surrounding this show may be relatively small, but I have to admit that it's one of the reasons I've grown rather attached to the show.

This show has introduced me to some of the kindest, coolest, and most creative people on the internet. The passion I see in each and every one of you for such a small fandom really has inspired me to keep creating things. No matter how small the conversation all appreciation of art really does matter.

The fact that ANYONE would listen to some guy calling himself "beefkisser" still has me beyond words, I love you guys so much, thank you for being here and being yourselves.

Part II: Personal Experience

This is probably going to be the sappiest part of this post oh boy.

So I first got into TGN around Late October/Early November last year by some unbelievable series of coincidences and I'm really glad that I did. Admittedly at first my interest was only caught because I saw Beef and a primal part of my brain activates when I see large hairy men, I'm not entirely proud of that being what roped me in BUT-

As I watched more episodes I became helplessly entangled with the positive relationships I was seeing in the Tobin family, each character having their own kind of love to give. I saw a family I wanted to be a part of (hence my self-insert OC lmao) and I truly believe the Tobins had a positive influence on my outlook on life.

I don't normally put my problems out to be seen but TGN caught me at a time when I was dangerously close to falling into a kind of despair I hadn't felt in years (Life can be fucked up, ya know!). TGN really reinforced to me some things I already knew, particularly the idea of your closest family not always being by blood (Thank you Honeybee Shaw-Tobin I love you) and being able to fall back on the people you love when you're at your lowest. I genuinely believe this show had a HUGE impact on me being able to be vulnerable again, and since I've allowed myself to be soft I've never been happier. Even if I'm afraid I think I have it in me to raise people's spirits again.

Above all, TGN has cemented in me my desire to make art that could help other people the way it's helped me.

Part III: What's next?

With Season 5 picking up again soon, I'm probably going to go back to drawing Beef and co. more often. I won't be live-blogging the new episodes but I will gladly discuss them with anyone who wants to!

I'm probably also going to get back to working on my self-insert fanfiction if anyone is interested in that, it's just something silly I make to make myself happy but who knows I might just start posting about it.

Thank you for hearing me out if you've made it this far in the post, it's been a pleasure putting my thoughts out for you!

-Lapis 🐻