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brbsoulnomming · 3 days ago

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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

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Dustin shows up at his house the next morning.

"You have a concussion," Dustin says when Steve answers the door.

Steve squints at him. "Did you get your medical license when I wasn't looking?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "Haha, very funny. Are you going to let me in?"

Steve doesn't really have a reason not to.

All right, well, he's got several reasons not to, starting with the fact that Steve isn't actually feeling so great and ending with Dustin being like thirteen and somehow always around when the world is ending.

But Steve is lonely, and feeling kind of pathetic, and none of them seem like good enough reasons, so he opens the door and lets Dustin in.

"From my mom," Dustin says, setting down a Tupperware of brownies on the coffee table.

Steve immediately knows he's made the right decision, taking a massive bite of chocolate, fudgy heaven. It's only after he's devoured one and he turns to Dustin to ask him to tell his mom thanks that he sees that Dustin's plopped his heart onto the coffee table, too.

"Hearts out, Steve," Dustin says matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Steve bitches. "What do you even need to look at it for?"

"You're in the Party now! Party rules, you have to show your heart before you can get your walkie," Dustin says.

Steve pulls a face, and immediately regrets it as it makes his eye and nose burst with pain. "Who says I even want to be in your party?"

Dustin's face falls. "Don't you?" he asks, sounding hesitant and uncertain.

It makes Steve's resolve crumble immediately.

"How about we start with friends?" Steve offers.

The kid's face lights up at that, giving him a gap toothed smile, but then he nudges his heart closer to Steve and looks at him expectantly.

Steve sighs and takes his own heart out, wincing a little as the motion twinges his bruised ribs. He sets it on the table next to Dustin's.

"There you go," Steve mutters.

Now that the light's better, he can see a hole right in the middle of Dustin's heart. It's small, but it goes all the way through, and it makes Steve's own heart give a soft pulse in empathy.

Dustin catches it, looks up to follow Steve's gaze, and drops his eyes. "My dad," Dustin mutters.

"Hey," Steve says softly, reaching out without even thinking about it to turn his heart a little.

There's two overlapping holes in the same place on his own heart, and Steve rubs his thumb over them, biting the inside of his cheek at the way it still prompts a soft echo of longing. "My parents," he tells Dustin.

Dustin looks around, like he's only just now realizing that there's been no sign of them since he rang the doorbell. "Oh," he says, soft and full of understanding.

It's honestly the most understanding he's ever received about his parents choosing to be mostly absent from his life, which makes him feel kind of pathetic, but also makes his heart warm in a way he's not sure it ever has before.

Dustin reaches out, stopping just short of touching Steve's heart as he gestures to the jagged line cutting through it.

"Nancy?" Dustin asks.

Steve's jaw sets.

He doesn't want to talk about it.

Dustin seems to take that as answer enough, though, because he just goes back to eagerly examining both of their hearts. Steve's is bigger than his - of course it is, because Dustin is thirteen, but they're both the same deep, vibrant red, and they both beat strong and steady.

It's barely any time before they're beating in unison.

Dustin looks back up at him, beaming that wide, goofy smile of his. "Cool," he proclaims.

—

Every time Dustin comes over after that - and it's a lot, honestly, Steve still doesn't know what to make of it - he plops his heart onto the coffee table and waits expectantly until Steve takes his out and puts it next to Dustin's.

They never touch each other's hearts, they never even talk about it, but at least twice a week Steve's able to breathe a little easier, able to actually relax.

—

He waits at the picnic table in the woods after school on his first day back.

Munson looks bored at first when he gets there, but then he does a double take, like Steve's injuries are worse now than they were at lunch.

Or maybe it's just that he's up close now, instead of on the other side of the cafeteria, or maybe it's just that Steve's tired and in pain and he doesn't give a shit about pretending like he isn't.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Munson mutters, dropping his lunchbox on the table.

Steve shrugs. “I'd say you should see the other guy, but everyone did already.”

Munson is looking at him with suspicion, eyes narrowed as he takes him in. Steve wonders if he doesn't buy the story that's been floating around, if it's too easy to see that he and Hargrove both look pretty fucking bad for just blowing off steam and getting carried away.

Wonders if he'll call him on it.

Munson's expression smooths out, though, and he flips the lunchbox lid open. “How much do you want?”

Steve's eyes flick down to the chains on Munson's leather jacket, but no heart there today. Not that he could see anything if it was - Munson's been wearing his heart pinned to his jacket off and on since the last half of Steve's freshman year, but it's always wrapped up tight in chains or leather so that no one could get more than a glimpse of it.

Everyone said it was a flaunt of defiance against tradition and a way he could cheat people in his deals while maintaining the appearance of a fair exchange, but Steve always kind of figured it was just because he was tired of people demanding to see it whenever he sold to them while being reluctant to show theirs.

That, and it was like everything else Eddie Munson did - loud and in your face and purposefully drawing attention to what he wanted you to see, while guarding what he didn't close to his chest.

Steve's never bothered with attempting a mutual show of hearts the handful of times he's bought from Munson before - they aren't exactly new business partners, not even the first time he actually bought from Munson himself, and frankly Steve's never needed to see Munson's heart to know he's trustworthy enough that he's not going to give him bad shit, even if he does overcharge him.

But today's different.

He gently pops open his own chest, ignoring the faint twinge of his ribs, and takes his heart out, setting it on the table next to Munson's lunchbox.

Munson's eyes widen for a moment before his jaw sets, lips thinning out in a flat line as he looks down at Steve's heart and then back up to his face. “What the hell is this?”

“My heart,” Steve replies evenly.

Munson looks unimpressed. “I'm not showing you mine.”

“I didn't ask you to,” Steve says, unable to stop himself even though he knows he's being kind of a dick.

Munson looks at him for a moment. Then, “Whatever. How much do you want?”

Steve opens his mouth to say he isn't here to buy today, but - actually, no, he could probably use some weed to dull the pain and help him sleep. It's routine for a moment, both of them ignoring Steve's heart beating on the table next to them as they make the trade, until Steve's baggie is tucked inside his jacket and Munson's shoving cash into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Your Majesty,” Munson says, doing a little bow.

“Munson, wait,” Steve says.

Munson straightens, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hargrove tried to blame this on you.” Steve gestures at his face. “Told me you sold him some bad shit.”

Munson goes very, very still. His eyes flick down to Steve's heart, so quick that Steve's not sure he would have noticed it if he wasn't watching Munson so closely.

“That so?” Munson asks. There isn't an edge in his voice - if anything, there's such a quiet neutrality to those two words that it almost feels more dangerous than if he'd tried to put a warning in them.

Eddie Munson's never scared Steve the way he does half the school - honestly, shitty as it is, Steve doesn't exactly think of him all that much - but there's no denying that Munson is no pushover. He can't tell if Munson is afraid, or angry, or just itching for a fight, but Steve didn't come here to freak him out.

He holds his hands up, palm out, and purposefully drags his gaze down to where his heart is beating calm and steady. “I don't believe him.”

Munson looks down at Steve's heart, lingering for a moment before darting back up. His expression is still unreadable. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he said he was going to spread it around, that you were lacing your stuff with something,” Steve says. “I'm pretty sure I convinced him it was a bad idea, but just in case.”

“You convinced him it was a bad idea,” Munson repeats flatly.

Steve shrugs. “I told him he should be nicer to you, that you always sell me the good shit.”

That gets a little snort out of Munson, startled and almost amused, and Steve grins at him.

“It won't be hard to tack that onto the rumor if he tries to spread it,” Steve says. “So you should be safe.”

Just like that, the amusement in Munson's expression is gone. “Yeah?” he asks, disdain clear in his voice. “And why does King Steve give a shit if I'm safe?”

It's an obvious challenge, and for just a moment - for just a moment, Steve wants to tell him.

To tell him how the King Steve shit first came about because Carol loved fairy tales when they were little and his parents were gone so much that Tommy called him king of the castle, that he has tons of people who call him their friend but the only people who come close to understanding him are his ex, her new boyfriend, and a gaggle of middle schoolers who're waiting for him to come pick them up.

That he's more tired than any seventeen year old should ever be.

“What kind of king would I be if I didn't protect my people?” he says instead of any of that, refusing to look at whatever his heart is doing.

It's high school, it's politics, it's bullshit, but it's still a game he has to play for a little longer.

Munson is watching his heart, now, and whatever he sees makes something complicated cross his face. For a moment, Steve picks up a hint of longing, but it's gone by the time he looks back up.

“Well then,” he says, wide grin back in place as he bows again. “Consider this court jester protected, Your Majesty.”

—

The phone rings at one am a few days later.

He isn't asleep - had been, earlier, but a nightmare had tipped him quickly into wakefulness, and he hadn't gone back - so he answers it almost immediately.

Nothing good comes from one am phone calls.

“How many teeth do you think those things have?” Max demands without so much as a hello.

“I don't know,” Steve bitches before he's thought better of it. “You want to come over and count the bite marks on my leg?”

There's silence for a moment.

“Yeah,” Max says, and Steve's gut twists.

“It's one in the morning, Mayfield,” he says. “What are you going to do, skate over? It's dark and cold as shit out there.”

“Didn't stop us at the junkyard,” she shoots back.

He's quiet for a moment. Then, “I'll pick you up.”

She snorts. “You're going to show up at my house at one am and pick me up? Yeah, that'll be a great look for you.”

“Then it looks like you're out of luck, and you'll have to pick out the teeth marks on my leg tomorrow.”

She doesn't say anything for a while. He doesn't rush her, just settles back with the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear.

“Why'd you do it?” she asks eventually.

“I ask myself that about a lot of things,” he replies. “Which one?”

He half expects another snappy retort, but her voice just goes even quieter.

“Put yourself in front of me. Stand up to him.”

Oh.

“I don't need protecting,” she adds, and yeah, there's the attitude.

“I know you don't need it,” he says, even though that's a lie. She does need it, they all do. “I know you can look out for yourself.”

That's not a lie.

“But you shouldn't have to. You should have someone who'll look out for you.”

She scoffs. “And that's going to be you?”

He shrugs, even though she can't see it, and it hurts a little. “Why not?”

She's quiet again. “You don't even know me.”

He does, is the thing. He knows the way her eyes looked when she said Billy was going to kill her, he knows not being able to rely on the people you should count on most, even if it's not the same.

He knows how he felt the summer before high school, when his father finally grew too frustrated with waiting for Steve's heart to change, how he picked it up and nearly threw it across the room. He knows the sound of his mother yelling, how viciously they fought. How his father never touched him or his heart again, but Steve now knew what lurked behind his eyes when he smiled too big.

He knows how his mother has looked at him with disappointment more times than anything else, after that.

But he doesn't say any of that. Instead, he says, “So let's change that. Skate park or arcade tomorrow?”

“What?” she asks, clearly thrown.

“After you're done staring at my leg wound and counting teeth like a creep,” he clarifies. “Am I taking you to the skate park or the arcade?”

“Hawkins doesn't have a skate park,” she says dismissively. “It has abandoned parking lots and dirt holes.”

He waits.

“Arcade,” she says. “And I want popcorn.”

—

His walkie flares to life at night, sometimes.

After the first time, he leaves it on a different channel than their usual one - makes sure the kids know which one it is, if they need to use it - and sometimes, they do.

Okay, more than sometimes. It's not like Steve's sleeping all that well, though, so he doesn't mind when it happens almost every night for a few weeks.

“Steve, you awake? Over,” Lucas says one night.

“Yeah, I'm up,” he mutters into the walkie. Then, after a moment's pause, “Over.”

There's silence, and that wakes him up more than the walkie itself had.

“Lucas?” he asks.

“What if you weren't there?” Lucas says.

“What?” Steve asks.

“At the junkyard. With Billy. What if you weren't there?”

“But I was,” Steve says, frowning.

“I know, but what if you weren't?”

Steve sits up, rubs at his eyes a little. “I'll always be there when you guys need me, okay?”

“You can't promise that!” If it was Dustin or Mike it might have been an angry bite, but Lucas just sounds frustrated. Maybe even a little scared.

“Sure I can,” Steve argues, even though he kind of knows Lucas is right. “I have the walkie, right? You guys call me, and bada bing bada boom, I'm there.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. “Are you still trying to get Nancy back?”

“What? No, of course not. Why?”

“Dustin said you were bringing flowers to Nancy when he made you help him look for Dart.”

Right, of course he did. Do these kids keep any secrets from each other?

“This isn't about Nancy, okay? This is about you guys. I showed my heart to Dustin and I have my walkie and everything, doesn't that mean I'm in your party?”

“You actually want to be in the Party?” Lucas asks, sounding skeptical. “But you're Steve Harrington.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Steve asks.

“Aren't you way too cool to hang out with us?” Lucas retorts.

This is - quickly becoming a conversation that Steve doesn't really want to have over a walkie talkie at past midnight on a school night. He huffs out a frustrated breath of air, then pushes the talk button on the walkie again.

“This weekend. Arcade or shooting hoops?”

There's a pause. Then, “Really?”

Steve swallows down his urge to be a dick. “Yeah. Really.”

“Basketball. The park?” Lucas asks.

“Nah, we can use the hoop in my driveway. Come on by whenever.”

—

Lucas is good. Unpracticed, especially at any kind of teamwork, but good. Steve has to be careful, with his injuries, but they still get some good work in, and it's fun.

It's not until they're finished and raiding the kitchen for some snacks that he asks, “So what was that about, a few days ago?”

Lucas noisily pops open his can of New Coke, and takes such a long drink that Steve's pretty sure he's doing it to avoid answering. Steve just raises an eyebrow.

“Nancy used to hang out with us,” Lucas says, almost reluctantly. “She even played D&D with us a couple of times. Then she went to high school, and then she started dating you, and suddenly she's too cool to hang out with us. Then - then everything with Will, the first time, and she promised Mike they'd spend more time together, but she didn't. Just kept dating you.”

That's - a lot. He hadn't known that about Nancy, except that she wasn't as close with Mike as she wanted to be, that she didn't know how to talk to him about everything that happened. He thinks about protesting that hey, he's the one who got Nancy to talk to Mike about Will - and had to be a part of it, ugh - but again, he's trying not to be a dick.

“So you're, what, worried that I goaded Nancy into not hanging with you guys?”

Lucas makes a face at him. “No, Nancy doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. I believe you that you'll be here if we need you for Upside Down stuff again, but why would you hang out with us for the in between?”

That's a fair question. He wants to be flippant, wants to deflect with something like because Dustin keeps showing up at my house and won't leave me alone, but -

He remembers how terrified Lucas looked with Billy pinning him against the cabinet. He kind of wonders if anyone's talked to him about it, or if it got lumped in with all the other weird terrifying shit going on.

“Because it isn't always Upside Down stuff,” Steve says softly.

Lucas goes quiet. “El says Hopper told her you guys fixed it so Billy would leave us alone.”

“I think Max did that well enough, but yeah, Hop and I had a plan.”

“How?” Lucas asks.

Bullshit, is how, Steve wants to say, but he doesn't. “Billy's on the basketball team, and he wants to stay on the basketball team.”

Lucas frowns. “So?”

“So I've been on the team longer than him. Coach knows me better, the guys are used to looking to me. Well - some of them.” In all fairness, the basketball team's been kind of split - some of them gravitating to him, some to Billy, some trickling back and forth like kids with divorced parents.

“So… you're one of the cool kids, and you like us, so the more douchebag ones stay away from us?” Lucas asks.

Steve's nose scrunches a little as he considers that, but it's… not wrong. “Yeah, I guess so. Most of them are good guys, they don't like bullying anymore than I do. It doesn't stop the ones who are assholes from doing it where we can't see it, but it helps.”

Lucas looks like he's considering that for a long moment, until finally he nods.

Steve thinks that's the end of it, but later, as Lucas is heading out to leave, he asks, “So what happens if you're not there, and you can't see it?”

Steve resists the temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose - mostly because he knows it'll hurt like hell.

“The Y is offering self defense classes,” he says, when he's gotten himself under control. “I was thinking about taking one. You in?”

Lucas is in.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 4

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #steve and dustin #steve and max #steve and lucas #good babysitter steve

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seat-safety-switch · 2 days ago

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Like most people in today's civilization, I am extremely competitive. With artificially limited resources, we are forced into a constant state of low-grade warfare with our strangers, neighbours, and even loved ones. One of the most common ways in which this manifests is stoplight racing.

We've all done it. Guy next to you pulls up to the red light you're waiting at. You rev your engine a little bit, sidestep the clutch and now you're in a drag race. Problem is, the roads are full of other cars, which is a pain in the ass when you're trying to stomp on the ego of a teenager driving his mom's Durango. And the cops don't like it, because they don't teach them how to get a good sixty-foot time in cop driving school, which makes them notoriously jealous.

As with any other illegal, dangerous event, the best way to legally enjoy it is to hang out with some very rich people while you do so. Go to a private race track? What do I look like, the Pope? No, with the help of a friend I'm calling Mr. Bolt Cutters, and his common-law wife Mrs. Angle Grinder, I was able to borrow a sailboat from the local marina and enter the local sailboat races.

You might think racing a sailboat is kind of lame. There's no engine, so you're spending most of your time leaning out of the boat like an asshole, trying to make the sail catch the wind. It's basically like going to the gym, except you're building killer abs and getting all sweaty instead of posting your gains on Instagram. And you discover a lot about yourself in an event like this. I certainly learned from my mistakes during this event. Primarily, I found out that there was not a sailboat race that weekend, and that I had actually stolen a thousand-horsepower twin-engined cocaine-smuggling boat instead. I am positive that this kind of mistake happens all the time.

After running up and down the river at full throttle for a few hours, I finally beached the thing while trying to outrun the cops for the fourth or fifth time that night. Don't be sad, though: I made sure to go get my plasma cutter and chop those engines right out of the boat. This kind of power will really come in handy at the stoplight drags next time I have to drive across town to visit my parole officer.

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ananinidraws · 3 days ago

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Fuck it, Super Mario pride HCs

Mario is that one cis guy who at first is a straight ally and thinks he's hetero but then realizes "oh actually guys are kinda cool too". Bisexual with a preference for women, but open to all

Weegee is soooo queer. Always has been, and has an incredibly suportive brother too. Doesn't have a prefered gender romantically, def not cis and on the aroace spectrum, so polysexual, genderqueer and demiaroace. And yes, those were picked specifically cuz all the flags have green in them

Bowser is very confident about his transmasc-ness and displays it proudly. For those of you who said in tags of my previous posts that the scars are painted on, correct, except they're more akin to tattoos, cuz he thought top surgery scars looked sick as hell. He's still questioning orientation wise though. Like Mario, he's always thought he was straight, but unlike him, he's finding it more dificult to nail down what exactly he is

Trans aroace Peach! Trans i will elaborate further on a diferent post (i have some theories that tie into that, but i'll post about that soon), but i see Peach as that one aroace friend who looooves being affectionate with her closest friends. Hearts and love motif characters being aroace and the love being their platonic love my beloveds

Bisexual QUEEN, with no strong preferences. Also Daisy got top surgery cuz she could and cuz she wanted to

Your honour, she loves women. And is also ace, cuz Rosa just gives off ace-spec vibes, to me at least

Pansexual, slight preference for women. After she and Mario broke up they'd go "my goodness i love girls" "me too"

I. I really don't think i need to explain this one. The Bean Kingdom's fruitiest man

Shoutout to @nartblartmallcop not only cuz they inspired me to do the pride hcs in the first place, but also because the hc of Wario and Waluigi being ALL or NOTHING really made me open my eyes to that hc cuz it's AMAZING (these two posts, if you're curious)

And lastly Wapeach, cuz i love her, her gender is No

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postcardsfromheapside · 2 days ago

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No. I wasn't missing the point of most criticism. Literally, I saw post after post of people saying they wished the characters could be mean to each other. Some posts were more specific, like "I don't like Taash," (and I'm sure you can imagine what THAT'S about) and some were more ambigious but cited DA2 and how everyone was bitchy toward each other.

I honestly don't care where you work and what you do, because hopefully most of us after the age of 30 have experienced an adult job where we have to be reasonable with our coworkers, even if we strongly disagree, or outright dislike them. I had the suspicion that most people who think that there is "no conflict," or "low conflict" or "bad writing" in this game haven't experienced this kind of setting in any capacity. What I'm now hearing is that you might have, but you didn't absorb any of the dialogue, or switch out your party to listen to banter, which is an essential function for picking up information in any DA game.

I walked around Arlathan with Lucanis and Harding, and they have a whole ongoing conversation in which she threatens him with one of her special arrows. And he agrees that if Spite should take him over, she should do something about it. Harding isn't frightened, because Harding isn't a pushover, but she's not taking any shit either. Did you walk around with just the two of them right after recruiting Lucanis? Did you frequently visit the rest of the companions so that you could see just how much Lucanis and Davrin *didn't* get along? Neve mentions what sounded like a knock-down drag out fight.

**Just because this isn't explicitly mentioned to you doesn't make it bad writing - it means you haven't had the time we had with Inquisition to play the game over and over and switch out your party so you can see everyone's interactions with each other. You will actually have to play the game multiple times and switch your party out a fair amount in order to see these interactions. Or wait for people to post them to tumblr. You can complain about how unfair this is, or remember that Inquisition has 10 years on this game, and it's been out for just shy of a month.**

Why in the absolute fuck would Davrin manufacture conflict between himself and someone he could easily conjecture isn't pro-slavery based on the fact that within five minutes he could find out she's from Dock Town, she's a private investigator working with the Shadow Dragons, and LITERALLY WHEN YOU GET ONTO THE DOCK WITH HIM, her first priority as she's running back to Minrathous is to say "if the dragon wrecks havoc, the Venatori will take over." Davrin isn't an idiot, he could pretty well surmise that she's not "pro slavery" with only the barest of interactions and Rook saying "yeah Neve's cool."

Why would Neve yell at you? Why is it bad writing for the writers to give Neve a personality you don't agree with, because you're uncomfortable with how she reacts? Neve's an adult who is used to working on her own and people not showing up for her - she says this MULTIPLE TIMES - it's actually a large arc of bonding with her, as a friend and a lover. She's not going to scream at you, she's so far past the point of being loud about disappointment, she's on the other side, for one, and for another, she does in fact understand that the entire North of Thedas is on fire and blighting Treviso is pretty fucking bad when it has no major defenses. Rook doesn't endlessly apologize. She came back after a short pause and while I didn't have her healing abilities after that, it didn't take long for me to boost my bond with her back up and feel like we were friends again.

This honestly feels like you're having a personal reaction that you need to examine, and it's not something to do with the writing, since the game mechanics and the dialogue don't actually bear out what you're putting down here.

All of the companions who have conflict initially have to figure out how to trust each other and it sometimes takes most of the game for them to do that. If you didn't spend the time listening to their banter as they work their way through it, that's not Bioware's problem. That's you. And...I don't want to have repeated conversations where I go into Emmrich's (my romance) room and "vent"? I didn't do that with Cullen. I didn't do that with Anders. Why would it suddenly be a thing here? But if you listen in to people's conversations, they do express dismay and doubt and fear about the various quests they've been on. Again, it feels like you didn't spend the time eavesdropping or taking people out and listening to banter.

I have no idea what you're talking about with flirting. I flirted with every companion at first even though I knew I was running for Emmrich, and all of them responded according to their personality. I romanced Cullen in Inquisition, and he was pretty quiet initially, until you get to Skyhold, and similarly, most of the companions here retain a certain reticence until the game progresses. But if you're looking for people who get flustered - Lace and Bellara absolutely do! And Emmrich isn't flustered, but he's taken aback a few times before he collects himself and flirts back - though whether you'd actually recognize it for flirting, I'm starting to wonder. The fact that you can't tell with Neve is actually making me tilt my head at the screen, and I say this as a self-confessed disaster who is very very bad at knowing someone is interested. Even I can tell what's going on in DA romances.

This is probably a lost cause, but I urge you to either spend time playing the game again, or watch someone else who really loves DA (and is Veilguard positive) play so that you can watch without being in the thick of it, and hopefully experience more dialogue and different choices.

No, I'm not done yet, I'm house sitting and she left me snacks and soda and not even god could keep me from venting my spleen at this point.

"I wish the companions were meaner to each other in this game, like in DA2."

While I think there's a larger argument to be made discussing the similarities between DA2 and Veilguard, I need everyone to get so close to me right now about a glaring difference:

DA2 involved a ragtag group of assholes with their own agendas coalescing around Hawke's personality or exchange of favors. There was no larger "goal," except maybe Varric's expedition - everything else is encountered as circumstance. You wend your way through your companions' stories while a city winds ever tighter into itself, a spring about to literally explode.

There's zero reason for these people to be nice to each other. They have no point in being around each other except Hawke. They can bitch at each other all they like.

Rook becomes Varric's second in command (I've seen one post say it's about 6 months before the events of the game) with an explicit purpose: find and stop Solas. Harding and Neve are recruited as experts in their respective fields for this particular goal. When it all goes to shit, Neve recruits another expert, Lucanis, to deal with the fallout, and Harding finds Davrin, *also* an expert in his field (monster hunting). When Rook has to make a particularly consequence heavy decision, two more are added to the crew: Emmrich (Fade expert) and Taash (dragon expert). All of these people are extremely competent, and know from the jump that they have one particular goal in mind.

They join ready to work together on Day 1 because if they don't, there's simply no other alternative. It's lights out. Even when they mistrust each other, the direness of the situation is not lost on them. Infighting serves no purpose. That's why the struggle is directed inward: clean up your own house, so we can move as a single unit.

Honestly the fact that what people took away from this game was "I wish my friends were meaner to each other" and not "wow, I wish we all worked together to keep evil dictators from taking over" is fucking mindblowing when I sit back and reread this.

#fandom critical #datv #dragon age: the veilguard

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arcane-vagabond · 3 days ago

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Meet Me at the Sea Masterlist

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the at his family's summer home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but now there are bodies washing up on shore and you're starting to lose pockets of time. Bob and his friends are acting strange. Is it fear, or do they know more than they're letting on?

Series CW: Supernatural elements, Siren songs, Death, Accidental drownings, Near death experiences, Swearing, Violence, Mermaid/Sirens, Hypnosis, Attempted murder, Eventual smut, Fluff, Angst, Jake Seresin. Think that's pretty much it. Chapters will have individual warnings.

All posts related to this series will be tagged as "MMATS" and "Meet Me at the Sea".

*Denotes smut.

A/N: This is a rewrite of (arguably my most popular) series of the same name. I've never been satisfied with how it played out, so here I am...attempting to take it from a CW show to an HBO/Starz Show.

Masterlist

Series;

Prologue

Chapter One (Coming Soon)

Drabbles;

Nothing to see here yet...

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masonmontz · 24 hours ago

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hellooo everyone :) i hope you like it, this was incomplete for a long time and i did my best to try to get it ready and post it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst/fluff word count: 3,5k

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

It's not that you hate Mason's friends, far from it, but you just... don't fit into their lifestyle.

You and Mason have been together for a few months now and yet you still feel out of place in his reality, especially since his friends act like you don't exist. You actually enjoy talking to them and you think they're fun, but it annoys you when they invite Mason to parties as if he were single, or talk about other girls in front of you and even ask Mason's opinion about them.

Mason never made you doubt his feelings for you, but all of this has been building up and making you stressed.

It was Wednesday afternoon and you were at Mason's house working on your computer, Mason had training and he wouldn't be back for another hour. Erik changed today's training time ‘cause he had an appointment and so Mason would be at Carrington until 7pm. The doorbell ringing startled you, you weren't expecting anyone, not even Mason's family.

You were surprised to see Woody standing at the door of Mason's house with two women behind him, and apparently he thought it was strange that you answered the door.

“Y/n, hey, I didn’t know you were here” Woody spoke and scratched his head, a little embarrassed.

“Hello, Woody. It’s good to see you” you said and then looked at the two model-like women behind him. “Mason is still in Carrington, do you need to talk to him?”

Woody walked up the two steps of the stairs and you let him in, and the two women he was with followed him. Of course, Mason's house is also the house of his best friends.

“Yeah, actually we had planned to go to a party today. It's Stella's birthday” he pointed to the blonde woman in the red dress, and she smiled at you.

“Happy birthday Stella” you smiled at her and turned to Woody again. “He didn't tell me anything, Mason and I arranged to go out for dinner.”

“Well, he confirmed that he's going to the party, I hope you don't mind leaving dinner for another day.”

“No, of course not, I'll just wait for him to arrive so I can change” you said and pointed to the gym clothes you were wearing.

“Actually, Y/n…” Woody started with a tone of voice you didn't like.

“All the seats at the party have been reserved, I can't put any more names on the list, I'm sorry” the brunette woman spoke for Woody, and you were speechless as the three of them stared at you standing in the middle of the living room in Mason's house.

“Yeah, of course” you smiled, even though you were angry at Woody for doing the same thing he always did, acting like Mason was still single.

“I hope you don't mind Mason going alone, but he's my friend and I really wanted him there” Stella said and you agreed. “Oh, Woody said you weren't very nice but you are.”

Woody's eyes widened and you glared at him, watching him swallow hard. You smiled fakely at Stella.

“Yeah, I don't think Woody is very cool either and I hope he knows that” you spoke at the same moment the door opened and Mason walked in, and he heard you talking about Woody. “Have fun tonight.”

You grabbed your computer from the living room table and went upstairs, trying to take a deep breath while knowing everyone was staring at you.

“Woody, what are you doing here, mate?” you heard Mason asking his friend.

“It's Stella's birthday man, you remember how much fun you two had, right?” was the last thing you heard before the bedroom door slammed shut. You took a deep breath once, twice, three times, even though it was difficult.

You were sick of being treated like you meant nothing to Mason, and he wouldn't even tell his friends to stop it, and that was what hurt you the most, he cares so much about his friends that he doesn't realize that you're the one who's getting upset about all this.

You packed your things and put away your computer, there was no way you were going to stay there any longer. You heard laughter from downstairs and it made you even more frustrated with Mason.

It wouldn't be nice to leave Mason's house with all of them staring at you in the living room, but you also didn't want to wait until they left, which could take hours. You honestly wanted to cry, but you hated feeling helpless and crying in front of someone, even if it was the person you gave your heart to.

Fuck him and his friends.

“Mate, I bought a ticket for a party in Ibiza during the international break, we have to go. I bought your ticket too” Woody said to Mason, and you could see that they were sitting on the couch. Mason was in the middle of Woody and Stella.

“I have to ask Y/n if she wants to go and-”

“Bro, she hates us and she won't want to go, you have to go alone, it will be fun.”

“Yeah, I'll think about it” Mason spoke softly and you snorted.

“Who knows, maybe I'll go to Ibiza with you guys? Polly can go too” Stella said and you walked down the stairs, you didn't want them to see you but it was impossible to leave without being noticed. Mason's gaze went to your bags and he noticed that you were leaving.

“Where are you going?” he asked but you didn’t look at him, you continued towards the exit door. “Y/n?”

Mason followed behind you and closed the door when you were both outside, and finally you looked up at him and he saw the tears in your eyes.

“I’m going home” you spoke softly and Mason lost focus for a few seconds. “You can go to the party, I won't stop you from going.”

“You’re going with me.”

“Oh, am I? I’m sorry, your friend was pretty clear when he said that there’s no space for me there” you said and felt a tear fall, but the last thing you wanted was to cry in front of Mason.

“He didn't mean it, you were rude to him and said you don't like him and-”

“What?” you weren't believing what Mason was saying. It wasn't the first time he defended Woody or Declan or Benny from you, and he never defended you the same way to them, he just accepts what they say about you.

“Look, Woody is one of my best friends, you know that. If you love me, then you should like them too because they’re my family.”

“Yeah, you're right. But maybe they don't love you as much since they don't like me.”

“What are you saying?”

“You always let them say whatever they want about me, Mason. You never stood up for me, ever. How do you think I feel when my boyfriend lets his friends talk about other girls or bring women over to his house while I'm here?”

“They are my friends.”

“I have friends too, Mason, and they've never disrespected you the way Woody or Declan do to me. I heard Woody saying that you and Stella had fun, do you think it didn't hurt to hear that? They don't think I'm enough for you?”

“I love you, that's enough” Mason spoke with his hands in his hair, huffing.

“Yeah, only in your dreams will I spend the rest of my life putting up with this.”

“Don't go away, let's talk, there's no reason to make this drama, love” Mason tried to pull you away but you pushed his arm away, shaking your head. “Y/n, please, let's go inside.”

“No, Mason. You don’t understand” you said frustratedly, finally crying and sobbing. “I don't want to hear any more bullshit about other women while I'm around. I don't want to know who you were with before me, they have no respect for me and you don't do anything about it. Declan cheats on Lauren all the time and encourages you to do the same, you think I don't feel stupid? He's a jerk and she should dump him, and it hurts me when you don't say anything about it because you're their child's godfather and you think it's funny that he has been cheating on her the whole time.”

“I don't think it’s funny.”

“So you hide very well that you care about her or Jude” you wiped your eyes, looking at Mason who looked sad. “I really think you're not ready for a relationship, maybe you really love your friends and they’re your priority, but the Mason I knew is not this guy in front of me.”

“Hey, no, c’mon, I love you, I didn't know you felt that way.”

“Exactly, you care more about them than me.”

You turned your back and Mason tried to pull you towards him, but you refused and cried as you walked away. You looked at him one last time and saw Mason's eyes full of tears, but you chose to turn around and leave.

“Y/, don’t go, please.”

“When you realize what's wrong we can talk again.”

Mason watches in shock as you get into an Uber without looking back, it's like he's trapped in a nightmare but he can't do anything because he's tied up. He stood there for several minutes staring at the street until he felt raindrops and went into the house, hearing Woody and the women's laughter as soon as he entered.

“Mase, you can change your clothes now so we can go, what do you think?” Stella asked, but Mason's mind was far away. He looked at Woody sitting on the couch with Polly sitting on his lap, and for the first time in months Mason realized the reasons that made you leave.

“I'm not going, you can go” he muttered before turning his back and heading towards the stairs.

“Mate, what do you mean? Y/n told us to go and have fun” Woody said and Mason turned his face in time to see his friend get up from the couch and walk towards him.

“Shit, Woody, she broke up with me. Please go away now, I don’t want you here for now” Mason realized that you really did leave. He needs to be stuck in his own misery for a while.

“That's why we should go out, man, so you can forget about her, like old times.”

“Get out.”

“What the fuck?” Woody really wasn't understanding Mason, and it pissed him off, because now everything was obvious and Mason was the only idiot who didn't realize he was losing you. “What did Y/n say about me? She's an idiot, don't pay attention to her.”

“Don't you dare talk about her like that again” Mason pointed a finger at Woody, who was startled by Mason's tone. “Get out of here, all of you.”

Mason didn't wait for an answer and went upstairs without looking back, he took his phone out of his pocket and called you, but you didn't answer any of the times he called, nor did you even respond to the several messages apologizing that he sent.

Mason threw himself on the bed and sighed, how could he be so stupid? It was all so obvious in front of him, but Mason was more concerned about his friends than the woman he loves.

He called more than twenty times and you didn't answer any of the calls, nor did you respond to his multiple messages apologizing. Mason's heart raced as he thought he may have lost you forever because he was childish and stupid.

Panic washed over him and Mason gasped, he ran his hands through his hair in despair and anger. Mason couldn't blame you for deciding to leave, he understands, but saying his heart wasn't hurting was a lie. Mason never felt that way, ever.

A tear ran down his face, then another and then another, and before Mason knew it he was sobbing and thinking about everything you had said to him. It was so stupid that he didn't realize how you felt about Woody or Declan, and Mason couldn't even judge you, because in all these months he really was a terrible boyfriend and only now could he realize it.

He actually let his friends take him to parties, he didn't mind when Woody brought women to him, and Mason never thought about hooking up with them, but now he realized that he wasn't respectful and broke the trust you had in him. And what about Declan? Mason couldn't even think about his best friend having sex with multiple women while he has an amazing person at home waiting for him, plus a son who is the most beautiful child Mason had ever seen.

Mason feels ashamed that he never said anything to Declan, and he feels ashamed that he didn't protect Lauren and Jude. And he is ashamed because you don’t trust him and broke up with him because of the things he did.

“Please, please, answer me.”

Another rejected call. Mason is about to despair.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

It's been two weeks since you and Mason broke up, and honestly it's been really hard to go through the days without talking to him and trying not to think about him.

You failed every day, of course.

Mason respected the message you sent asking him not to call you, but deep down you wished he hadn't given up. Every day you wonder if he's out partying with Woody, having women all over him and falling in love with the smile you love. It breaks you every time.

“It's not an exaggeration if he listed all his friends as if they were more important than you” Kiera murmured while you were lying down watching a movie, she went to your house because she didn't want to sleep alone, her boyfriend was traveling and would be back the next day. “Honestly, I love Mason, maybe this will make him realize what he did wrong and you guys can get back together.”

“Yeah, but I think he realized he prefers parties and Woody, he didn't call me anymore.”

“You asked him not to call you.”

“I know, but that would show me that he cares about me. Am I wrong?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I should call him?”

“You miss him, right? You want him to call you but you asked him not to, he is just doing what you asked and respecting your time, if you are ready to talk, talk to him.”

“Yeah, I think you're right.”

But you didn't call, not the next day or the day after that. You knew Mason was traveling with the team because the next game was far away, and you didn't want to take your problems to him.

You missed him so much you could cry. You missed him when you woke up in the morning and missed his kisses on your neck, you missed having breakfast next to him and laughing at his stupid jokes, you missed him bothering you or lying next to you just watching some movie that neither of you paid attention to.

It was very cold in Manchester and the streets were already starting to have Christmas decorations, and that made you happy, it's the best time of the year. You went out for a walk in the late afternoon, the sun was setting and some people were walking along the streets.

It was crazy, but you swore you saw Mason's car parked at the pie shop when you were at the door, your favorite in the whole town. Mason also knew how much you liked chocolate pie, and he would always buy you a pie when he passed by.

But it wasn't crazy, ‘cause Mason came out carrying a box of pie just as you were about to climb the stairs to enter the store. You could have fallen if you weren't holding onto the railing, and Mason's eyes widened when he saw you.

He looked so handsome, his hair cropped because of the cut on his head, and he was wearing sweatpants and slippers. You couldn't help but smile when you saw his comfortable clothes.

“Did Ace eat all your sneakers?”

Mason breathed a sigh of relief when you asked, and the smile he gave you melted your heart.

“It would be too much work to put on sneakers, I preferred to go out like this” he walked down the two steps and stopped in front of you, your heart raced and you could feel your own hands shaking. Oh my God, it's Mason, why are you nervous?

You were silent for a few seconds, but Mason didn't take his eyes off you.

“So… how are you?” you asked, and Mason pulled you aside as a couple walked out of the pie shop. His touch on your arm sent you over the moon, and that was enough for you to realize that the time you needed was over.

“Honestly? I'm a mess” he confessed and you felt a pang of guilt, but you knew he needed that time too. “Do you want to talk here? Are you ready?”

“Hum- no, yes, I’m ready, but I don’t want to talk here” you spoke and he agreed. “We can go to my house. Are you going to take the pie to someone?” you pointed to the box in his hands.

“No, I bought it for myself” Mason scratched his head in embarrassment and you raised your eyebrows. “I don't know, chocolate pie reminds me of you and I was missing you.”

“Just like I'm watching Game of Thrones like crazy, then.”

“Oh, you said it was boring” he accused you, grinning, and you shrugged as you followed Mason to the car.

“You know I only watch ‘cause of Daenerys” you stopped next to Mason as he opened the car door for you, his scent reminded you of how much you missed him and you couldn't help but hug him, almost making him drop the pie box.

“I wasn't expecting that” he murmured as he left a kiss on your hair, hugging you with just one arm and you held his waist tightly, afraid that he would leave. “Oh God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sorry” you let go of him and smiled, feeling like a part of you was whole again.

You walked in silence to your house, and even so it wasn't bad, the smile you both had on your lips already said a lot.

“My mum is missing you, she almost hit me for not taking you to London with me on the international break.”

“Did you tell her what happened?” you asked as you grabbed two plates for you two to eat the chocolate pie that looked delicious.

“No, I said you were busy” he sighed and shrugged, but Mason still looked wary. “I was a bad boyfriend, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I should never have put other things first, you are the most important person to me and I hate myself for disappointing you and making you distrust me.”

You just looked at Mason. He wasn't the same man you left three weeks ago, the man in front of you recognized his own mistakes, and that was clear and enough for you.

“I'm sorry for the things you went through, I was an idiot and didn't realize it. I should never have let Woody take those women to my house or treated you the way he did, I should have stood up for you.”

“It's okay, I forgive you.”

Mason sighed in relief when you approached him, and this time he hugged you so tightly as if he would never let you go.

And you didn't want him to let you go again.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/n, oh my God, how did I manage to go three weeks without talking to you or seeing you?” Mason put his hands on your shoulders and shook you, making you laugh.

“I had no one to fetch water for me at night.”

“Did you just miss me because of that? I'm taking this pie home and you're not going to eat it.”

“Actually, I think we can eat while watching Game of Thrones?”

“I knew you liked the series, you just didn't want to admit it to me.”

Mason took the pie into the living room and you grabbed a blanket from your bedroom, ready to snuggle into it for hours and hours. You walked back into the living room and Mason was smiling on the couch as he waited for you, and you couldn't help but smile and feel like everything was okay again.

Mason hugged you as you laid down next to him, he was warm and comfortable and even you didn't understand how you managed to spend so much time away from him.

Mason was your home, and not even so many days away would change that.

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portalhan · 1 day ago

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⠀ꔫ˚　༝　◌ ⌒⌒ three strikes !

↳ jeongin swears on his life that he's seen something odd between you and felix... exactly three times, in fact, but he needs more concrete proof...

PAIRING: felix lee x gn!reader

FORMAT: one shot

GENRE: college au, friends to lovers, fluff, jeongin third wheeling...

WARNINGS: brief mentions of food and being sick (just the flu bug nothing huge)

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

FAE'S NOTES: this is just a little bit half-assed... idk if i have much faith in this and i believe i can do better than this but i'm gonna post it anyway for you guys! please let me know if you have any feedback, my writing muscles have basically atrophied and i need to find my rhythm again TT

jeongin doesn't usually second-guess his closest friends like this, but something has changed. he knows you and felix well enough to know at least that.

you have always been hard to read. you're an independent, reliable sort of person, not outwardly emotional nor needlessly arrogant either—you tend to show your love for your friends through small, quiet gestures. felix, on the other hand, is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve—almost to a fault. always baking extra brownies to gift people, always going the extra mile, always looking on the bright side, even in the darkest of situations. he is as fragile as he is affectionate.

yes, affectionate. that's the word he's been looking for to describe the changes in your friendship with felix. you've been more affectionate. jeongin has always chalked it up to felix's own proclivities rubbing off on you given the sheer amount of time you spend together, but now... he's not so sure it's that simple. there have been three strikes jeongin has kept score of so far.

STRIKE #1

jeongin remembers it was a tuesday, because that's the only day of the week where all three of you shared classes. you would always sit in a row near the back of the class. he has made it a point to memorise both yours and felix's timetables this semester—as do the both of you with him—so he knows you don't usually have prior arrangements before coming to campus. you've always had a tradition of meeting in the lobby before walking to class together as a result.

so, when his phone pings with a message from you saying 'sorry innie, we're gonna be a bit late! pls go to class first, just save us seats', he is immediately struck with confusion. what did you mean, "we"? felix, uncharacteristically, hasn't said a word and it's already 5 minutes shy from when class starts. he always arrives at least 10 minutes before. how strange, jeongin thinks to himself as he trudges up the stairs to class, incredibly unfamiliar with the circumstance of having to do so on his own for the first time. he just brushes the nagging suspicion off, telling himself it was probably because of some public transport situation that's delayed you both—not something entirely uncommon.

it's about 15 minutes into the class before he sees you. the second he spots felix and you stumbling through the doors, profusely apologising to the professor for your tardiness, though, is when the same sensation of suspicion comes back. as you and felix shuffle to make their way to the seats jeongin saved for you, he can't help but notice your attire. you're wearing an oversized black shirt with some graphic of an anime printed on. jeongin's eyes squint as he stares at it, assuming it must have been a new purchase of yours. but he swears he's seen it before.

when you and felix take your seats and the professors picks up where she left off, felix turns to jeongin and apologises for being late. "we're really sorry jeongin, we owe you one," he quips, before he fishes his laptop out of his bag. the younger boy just shrugs it off as no big deal. plus, he had something else on his mind to worry about than harp on the two of you being late to class.

the dots quickly connect a few moments later in jeongin's head. felix has a shirt just like the one you're wearing. he swears he's seen him wearing it before, just last week when the three of you had gone out for dinner. it's been a shirt of his for years now, so worn down by so many uses that it has bleach stains on the sleeves, despite how much care felix puts into his clothing.

jeongin leans back in his chair and slowly, subtly pushes it back. he steals a glance at your side profile, thankfully without either you or felix noticing. there they were: bleach stains on the sleeves. upon further inspection, the shirt you were wearing looks way too worn out to be a new shirt—he concludes it must be felix's. but why would you wear felix's dank shirt to begin with? it would be weird to ask if that's his shirt you were wearing, so he decides to keep his silence for now.

STRIKE #2

this time, it was jeongin's turn to be late. the three of you had planned a picnic to celebrate the end of the gruelling semester—an idea felix suggested. he wanted it to be a potluck, so the each of you planned to bring something of your own making along.

jeongin wanted to go all out with his: he wanted to bake cupcakes, something felix had recently taught him how to. he wanted to show you his latest endeavours, baked fresh, but he didn't expect it to go sideways so last minute. he ended up showing up almost half an hour late, hair sticking to his forehead from all the sweat and cupcake frosting smeared all over the tupperware he placed them in out of haste.

when he finally spots the two of you amid the grass field at the park, he notices something... odd. he stops in his tracks to catch his breath and squints his eyes to get a better look. if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought you two were... holding hands? the sun was glaring directly in his face, obscuring his vision, so jeongin couldn't be 100% sure. but what he does know is that your figures were so close to each other they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. this isn't exactly beyond felix, who is notorious for his habits of physical affection. but it is most certainly out of character for you, as someone who prefers to keep most people at an arm's length.

jeongin shrugs it off. he guesses felix nor he would be considered "most people". perhaps it was a trick of the light. he also doesn't have good enough reason to find it entirely strange—perhaps felix had gotten through to you in that regard. he had bigger things to worry about: your dinner getting cold.

STRIKE #3

the legitimacy of the third time is still up for debate, jeongin surmises. this time it wasn't your behaviour around each other, instead more so about how felix in particular reacted.

this happened over summer break. he remembers the sun being more unrelenting than ever—40 degrees celsius to be exact, he saw on the news—so you three had just decided to hang out in your bedroom, where the air conditioning is the coolest and crispiest (according to you). jeongin vividly recalls you lying on your stomach atop your bed, while the two boys were sprawled on the floor. that is, the carpet that laid over the spot where they would usually sprawl on the floor.

it was one of those 'parallel play' days, as you liked to call them. not necessarily doing things together, but doing separate things in the presence of each other, you said one time. felix was busy on his switch playing some pokemon game, you were scrolling on your phone and jeongin was just seconds away from drifting off to sleep on felix's lap.

it's been silent for, what, almost two hours now? but you end up breaking it first. "woah," you suddenly exclaimed, brows furrowing as you read something on your screen. "do you guys remember seungmin? from calculus?"

jeongin does not move an inch aside from nodding his head, and felix just lets out a little "yeah?" though his eyes were never once peeled from the console screen.

"i think he just asked me out," you tell them, bewildered.

this, of course, elicits reactions of surprise from jeongin and felix. the former lifts himself and sits up to ask details, while the other just turns the switch off—did he even save his progress on the game?—and sits there in silence as he silently watches you and jeongin discuss your classmate's... proposition. jeongin makes a playful jab at how you could have given him the wrong idea by flirting with him, which you immediately shut down. "i've never done anything suggestive to him, i swear!" you exclaimed in full defense.

seungmin has only ever made conversation with you once or twice in class, jeongin recalls. you also never really put in the effort to get to know your other classmates if jeongin and felix were in the same classes. jeongin makes a passing comment about how seungmin could pass as your type (if you squint hard enough), but it falls on deaf ears when you and felix meet each other's gazes.

"you're gonna tell him no, right?" felix suddenly chimes in after moments of prolonged silence, raspy voice cracking just a little. jeongin snaps his head to turn and look at his friend, head tilted and brow lifted. you give felix a look jeongin cannot quite describe, and chuckle with a soft smile as you nod. "of course i'm gonna say no," you assure him. he lets out a very heavy sigh of relief, but none of this goes unnoticed by jeongin.

this is very weird, jeongin remembers thinking. you have always been receptive to potential love interests, even if they weren't necessarily people you'd normally be into. so why are you so sure now that you'd reject seungmin without even giving him a chance?

on that note, what's it to felix who asks you out? why does he have a say? plus, he could've sworn he detected some semblance of... jealousy in his question. but he supposes that could be normal considering all three of you are so used to spending time with each other. jeongin does admit to himself that he'd feel lonely if you were to be whisked away by some stranger out of nowhere. it wouldn't be the same.

jeongin has theories, maybe even concepts of a theory, but no concrete enough proof for confrontation—so far. it looks like he has to wait till he does before he can address the massive elephant in the room.

FINAL STRIKE

it finally happens when he decides to stop by your apartment with take-out. you had told your friends about falling sick the night before—alas, you have caught the flu bug. they were just textbook symptoms like a low-grade fever, sore throat and a runny nose, nothing to worry about in particular, you told them. but jeongin just so happens to pass by your neighbourhood on his usual route home from work, so he decides to drop in with some chicken soup for you as a small surprise. you had already been texting the group chat the entire day about how exhausted you were to make yourself a half-decent dinner, so jeongin thought this would be a nice way to take care of his friend.

he knocks on your door multiple times to no response. maybe you're sleeping? he looks around the potted plants sitting outside your door and lifts the snake plant up, grabbing the rusted spare key tucked away from prying eyes just underneath. he quickly and quietly unlocks the front door and lets himself in. i'll just go in, check on y/n and put this soup on the table, he tells himself as he enters. maybe text you to let you know he got you dinner.

that is, until a warm aroma of what he believes to be fresh bolognese wafts to where he is at the front door. he hears the distant clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, and—strangest of all—he hears... conversation? he can definitely hear you talking and even giggling, but he can't quite make out who the other person was. he's about 99% sure there was someone else in here, but could it be just a phone call? he sneaks down the hallway to the kitchen, the noises getting clearer as he inches closer. when he sticks his head out from a blind corner to peek into the kitchen, he sees it: felix plating a fresh bowl of spaghetti while you're sitting on the dining table engaged in idle chatter. a lump catches in his throat—what is felix doing here? and most importantly, why didn't he know of this? he felt momentarily betrayed.

jeongin just stands there in silence, unsure of how to confront you, while you and felix continue chatting. it's only when felix sets down two plates of pasta and goes in to plant a peck on your cheek does jeongin yelp in shock, which frightens all three of you.

felix squints his eyes, which widen in utter disbelief when he recognises the familiar facade lurking by the corridor. "jeong...in?" he asks, voice trembling a little from disbelief. when he says jeongin's name, you shoot him a similar look, but this one is more panicked and afraid. jeongin awkwardly steps out within view, but he puts a hand up to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. he raises the other arm to point an accusatory finger at the both of you. you swear you just heard felix gulp next to you.

"i..." jeongin sputters. "i knew it! i knew something was going on between you two idiots!"

the verbalisation of his revelation is what completely opens the floodgates, causing the entire place to erupt in complete and utter chaos. jeongin paces back and forth with the chicken soup still dangling from his fingers as he rants about how he's caught you doing "weird stuff" a couple of times but couldn't have known, about how he's been feeling a little left out recently, how you have been looking at felix funny sometimes. meanwhile, felix just begins to talk over him with near-equal (if not more) amounts of sheer panic and distress, reaching out to him to get him to calm down while explaining that this wasn't how they had intended for him to find out.

you, crippled by the shock from jeongin's unexpected appearance, just sit there, unable to do much of anything what with your flu, just silently watching felix and jeongin form a panic attack circle jerk in your own house.

"enough!" jeongin raises his voice, which immediately shuts felix up. jeong has never raised his voice. you shoot felix a nervous look.

"i thought we were best friends," jeongin utters, the slightest hint of melancholy lacing his voice. he looks offended. you've never seen him look this offended, not even when he was accused of academic misconduct that one time. "i'm happy for you, ecstatic even! i swear i am, but really? why would you keep this for me for so long?"

you decide you should talk to him—felix is very clearly out of his depth when it comes to handling intense situations like this and he's only making jeongin feel worse with all the jabbering. you stand up from your seat on the table and walk over to him, taking your hands in his.

"i'm sorry, jeongin. we... we weren't entirely sure of how we were gonna do this," you tell him, almost in a whisper.

felix scratches the back of his neck, avoiding any and all eye contact with either of you. "we wanted to keep it quiet," he admits. "at first, at least."

you nod in agreement, and turn back to look at jeongin. "you were going to be the first person we would break the news to. not even our own parents, i swear," you divulge, while you spot felix in the corner of your eye making a silent crossed hearts gesture to double down on his sincerity. jeongin's once-tense features start to ease up a bit, but not entirely. "you are our best friend. we never want you to feel like this. we're sorry," you assure him, before pulling him into a bear hug. you feel felix join from behind you to make it a group hug.

"i don't care what you guys have going on, but don't keep any more secrets from me. got it?" your friend huffs after you all pull back, feigning some sort of authority. felix chuckles at how ridiculous he sounds—being the youngest of the three, the tone just sounds alien when it comes from him. "we would never," felix tells him, reaching out to give jeongin a firm pat on the back. "i think y/n might like you more than me anyway, they're always going, 'we should call jeongin! we should send him a photo! we should—"

your palm slaps against the lower half of your boyfriend's face in protest. "we might be dating but you're on thin ice," you glare at him, before he raises both hands to surrender.

jeongin jovially chimes in to break the tension: "can i just say, i've always felt like you'd get along. aren't you glad i introduced you to each other? you wouldn't be a thing if it weren't for me, ya know." felix and you just huff in response—he can have this.

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prodagustd · 21 hours ago

Text

the road not taken 06 | myg

part five: all is fair in love and war

Summary: Not everything turned the way you wanted, but you were used to it.

<part five

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff, flashbacks, *takes a deep breath* multiple smut scenes, protected sex and not so protected sex(?), fingering, explicit language, dom!yoongi if you squint, lots of teasing, lots of kissing, also DON’T open condoms with your teeth pls !! btw english is not my first language.

—words: 14k

—a/note: literally screaming as I write this bc I haven’t been so excited to post anything everrrr. omg this was so complicated to write it has my blood, sweat and tears on it!! hope you like it and as always I’m open to discuss this part in the asks (please do) (it’s an order)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

It wasn’t a surprise for you to know that Yoongi was a patient man. He never rushed things; he knew how to wait, he knew the precise moments to act and when to hold back. Tonight was no exception. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time as if the world had all the hours to spare just for you and him, he knew that the night itself was in his pocket.

He wasn’t wrong—the night was just beginning, and there was no reason to escape, rush, or leave early. But at this moment, you were anything but patient—not because you didn’t know how to wait, but because you had already waited long enough. From the way his fingers grazed your thighs during the car ride home to the kisses in the elevator, your impatience was growing rapidly. Every second felt drawn out, and you kept wondering how he could ignore the tension in the air, how you were sick with anticipation, on edge, waiting for his hands to touch you the way you truly wanted.

“It unzips from the back.” You whispered, breaking the silence of the quiet room.

He saw your bright wide eyes shining in the dark, your swollen red lips and a strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, almost feeling guilty for all the things he was thinking of doing to you.

“I know.” He breathed out, as if he hadn’t studied every part of your dress just hours before; where the zipper was, how long it was, how long it would take him to take it off.

You looked like you’d stepped out of one of his summer dreams, the kind that pulled him from his sleep, breathless and soaked in sweat in the middle of the night. Only this time he didn’t have to close his eyes and try to enter the same illusion again, he didn’t have to imagine the ending, he had you right there.

His lips moved slowly against yours, taking his time as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch as though he wanted the moment to last forever. He ventured one hand up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress and finding it with ease. With a smooth tug, he pulled it down in one motion, leaving it loose. A tingling excitement swept through you as his hands slid beneath your dress, dragging the shiny fabric upwards against your skin, pulling it over your head to leave you almost naked, wearing only your underwear.

A chill traced its way down your spine, and a cold breeze swept over your body. If you weren’t so turned on by the way he was looking at you—his dark eyes roaming over you, absorbing the sight of you—you’d be embarrassed about the fact that the only piece of clothing under that dress were your black lace panties, but the man on top of you didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, he seemed more than satisfied.

His hands were soft against your skin, he ran his fingers down your waist, your hips and over the lace waistband of your panties, making your pulse accelerate. “You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, out of breath.

"You think?" You whispered. He bit his bottom lip, nodding as his palms slowly made their way up your torso, pressing your breasts, squeezing on the flesh and brushing his thumbs over your hardening tips. You let out a quiet whimper, arching your back to meet his touch. Yoongi immediately felt tight in his pants like he was a teenager.

You quickly became addicted to his touch—the way his lips kissed yours with a fervor that ignited every nerve in your body, how he nipped playfully at your skin, leaving a trail of electric anticipation in their wake. The way he held you tightly, as if to ensure you wouldn’t move, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hm, and hot." He said, trailing open mouth kisses down your neck, nibbling your skin as if he was determined to mark it. His lips traveled from your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, you felt his breath against your skin and then his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue back and forth as his other hand brushed your other breast with his thumb just for the sake of driving you crazy. Yoongi was gentle, his moves were painfully slow, you couldn’t help but choke back a moan, arching your back forward already feeling dizzy. “I dreamt of having you like this” He breathed out, his lips going to your other breast, kissing your skin and leaving you undone. “So pretty and soft, all mine.”

You were sure he could see how his words affected you, that and the feeling of the fabric of his pants grazing over your core tortuously, his heavy breath and his hands over your body made you want to shut your legs off, clenching around nothing. “Yoongi…” You sighed, trying to sound firm but inevitably failing. He hummed, pulling away before leaving a wet kiss on your skin. “This is not fair.” You huffed, making him gaze up, finding your hooded eyes observing him with furrowed eyebrows. “How come you’re still dressed?”

For a moment, he wanted to laugh, but from the way you grabbed his shirt as if you wanted to rip it off, you seemed dead serious. The fact that you were practically naked in his bed wasn’t going to change your attitude towards him, and Yoongi knew that more than anyone; if there was one thing he had learned over the years was not to make you angry and even if you were far from being discontent, he was not trying to tempt the devil.

The confused look on Yoongi’s face melted away, placing a cheeky smirk on his lips right after. “I almost forgot how bossy you are.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.

“Am I bossy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He did not miss the warning tone that lingered on your voice.

“You are… really cute.” He answered, dodging your question as he watched your frown disappear from your face, you smiled, accepting the compliment. He quickly unfastened all the buttons of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it away somewhere in the room, he was pleased to grant your wishes.

You bit your bottom lip, satisfied. It was a rare sight; you could count the amount of times that you saw Yoongi shirtless, including that one time last summer—but it was different this time, his frame was broader and his shoulders were wider, you could notice the subtle definition of his arms, of his chest, you swore it could drive you insane. Fuck that damn gym.

“This too?” He asked, his fingers tightening around the belt of his pants. You looked at him through your lashes, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

“That too.” You nodded eagerly, and he had no choice but to comply with your instructions; you were observing every move he made as you laid on his bed, with your hair scattered across the pillow looking at him like you could ask anything from him and he would give it to you. He wasted no time, straightened up and unbuckled his pants, managing to get rid of them easily.

He bent close to you, his face inches away from yours as he locked your gaze with you, his hands reaching for the only piece of clothing that prevented you from being fully naked “What about this?” He asked, playfully curling his fingers on the waistband of your panties, his hot breath hitting your mouth.

A tingling sensation filled you, and goosebumps spread across your skin as his fingers moved down your center, slipping between your tights and pushing your panties aside, gently gliding through your wet folds. He was careful, rubbing slow circles on your clit, teasing your entrance as if he were mocking you, playing with you. “Should I take this off?” His deep voice resonated in your ears.

In a matter of seconds you felt yourself becoming completely vulnerable. You tilted your head, trying not to close your eyes. “Please…” You let out in a weak whisper, feeling your skin getting warmer.

“Please?” He chuckled. “Please what?”

You had been instantly pushed into a trance, you were too lost in the sensation to be embarrassed by how wet you already were. “Please, take it off…” You said, being washed by a wave of pleasure every time his finger taunted your entrance, only to come back to your clit, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

You were sure that with a few quick movements you could do that by yourself, but there was something about Yoongi being in control that made your stomach turn, and there was something about you, uncomfortably squirming under him, slowly moving your hips to meet his fingers and patiently waiting for his next move that made Yoongi feel like a caveman.

“And then?” He continued to ask, “What should I do next?”

Then, like he knew exactly what buttons to push, he sank two of his fingers into you, curling inside you without further notice. You gasped softly, but the answer got stuck in your throat, lost in a sea of thoughts. One of his hands firmly gripped your thigh, spreading you out so he could have a better access to your pussy, sinking his fingers and pulling away so he could toy with your sensitive clit.

You gripped his shoulders to find some balance while his fingers pulled out, gathering your wetness to fuck you again without hurry, taking his time so he could watch every expression you made, the soft frown in your face, your slightly parted lips, the way you bit your lip everytime you were about to make a loud sound, you were crumbling apart for him slowly, almost without noticing.

You shut your eyes, “Yoongi…” You moaned out.

“Yes?”

You bit your lips, struggling to find the words. His voice sounded so gentle but his actions were so evil, you never imagined that Yoongi was going to be this bad, mocking and teasing you for his own satisfaction, and somehow, it felt like he fell from the sky just for you.

“You’re being mean…” You whimpered, rolling your head back against the pillow. He slithered his hands over your chest, playing with your breast as you rolled your center against his hand, trying to chase the feeling. “Don’t play with me.”

Your voice and your words were laced with sin, he had never heard you talk in such a soft and tender manner, even if you were practically threatening him.

Yoongi was aware he could only push the teasing so far, not only because you were too eager, but he also had to consider how tight he was feeling in his boxers, he knew he was in no position to keep playing with you. Still, he smirked, satisfied as he observed the way you melted in his hand.

He brushed his nose over yours “What, do you want me to stop?” He said, a mocking tone in his voice. You would’ve been furious with him in any other scenario, but in this particular one you couldn’t help but feel completely flustered.

You let out the most pathetic mewl sound you ever heard, shaking your head.

“Mmm, thought so.” He chuckled, closing the distance between the two of you to catch your lips between his teeth and wrapped you in a fervent kiss. With an urgency, he grabbed a handful of your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tilted your head to the side and opening his mouth wide open, deepening the kiss. It seemed like the only right way to be kissed; hard, sloppy and messy, he eagerly licked your tongue in your mouth and managed to erase every coherent thought in your mind as he kept fucking you with his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

It felt too good, his body against yours, his lips kissing you as if he was about to devour you, his fingers grazing over your clit every time he pulled them out of your pussy just to push them deep down inside you again. You wished you could prolong the moment for a few more seconds, but the familiar tight feeling on your stomach warned you that you were dangerously close to your climax.

Yoongi, incapable of keeping it together any longer, pulled his fingers out at the same time he broke the kiss apart, making you finch. You whined in protest, but he left a small kiss in the corner of your lips in hopes to keep you content.

“Stop torturing me…” You said, already feeling frustrated.

“Is this what you call torture?” Yoongi scoffed, his voice hoarse. He reached for the nightstand next to his bed, pulling open the drawer. You heard his hand quickly going over some clutter, removing things until he finally found what he was searching for. “What about me? Watching you about to cum while I’m fucking hard.”

Your eyes inevitably traveled south, observing the outline of his cock under his tight boxers. You gulped, that view was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Even if he was struggling a bit with the whole situation, Yoongi knew he could die happily right there, he could not complain at all.

When Yoongi noticed the way you were ogling him, your thoughts drifting elsewhere, he tried to catch your attention by holding up the small condom package in front of your face, its glossy surface glinting under the light. “Open it.” He just said.

You paused for a brief second, then decisively bit the foil, opening it with your teeth.

Fuck.

If Yoongi wasn’t completely hard before, now he felt he could explode right in this moment.

“Fuck, you might kill me tonight," He breathed, surrender evident in his voice as his gaze lingered on you, trying maintaining his composure, though impatience was beginning to creep into his demeanor. You couldn’t help but smile. “Now let me take these off” He said, hooking one of his fingers on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and taking them off. You bit your lips in anticipation, watching the piece of clothing disappear from your eyesight.

“It wasn’t that difficult after all.” You murmured, making him laugh. You would never miss an opportunity to pick a fight with him.

“God, Pinky. Do you ever shut up?” He said, gripping the back of your thighs and bringing you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but your attitude didn’t last very long; the next thing you saw were his hands, pushing down his underwear to let his cock spring free, almost making you choke with your own saliva.

You suddenly shifted yourself up onto your elbows, ever so dramatic. “Yoongi…” You cried, giving him more than one reason to feel cocky right now. “I don’t know if I can take that.” A smirk tugged from the corners of his lips, one of his hands traveling down his length to jerk himself off, determined to drive you insane. You should’ve imagined that the fact that Yoongi was so confident and cocky was directly connected to how big he was; you wanted to punch him just for that alone. This wasn’t fair at all.

Yoongi laughed, rolling the condom onto himself and shaking his head, not paying real attention to your concern. He settled himself between your legs, dragging his crown between your wet folds, you barely managed to bite back a moan, throwing your head against the pillows. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You can take it.” His voice sounded so deep it vibrated in your ears, the weight of his words filled with lust and the gentle feeling of the tip of his cock resting on your entrance were so overwhelming it almost made you miss the new endearment, but you heard it just right, even if you felt like were in the brink of madness, aching to feel him inside you.

“Then, hurry up.” You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. He chucked at that, never in a million years he thought he would have you like that, trapped under him, with a frown on your face, urging him to hurry up. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it.

“No need to rush, we have all night.” He simply said, as if he was purposefully trying to annoy you, but the truth was that, as patient as he could be, having you naked under him and not being inside you was beginning to do a number on him, too.

You let out a cry when he sank into you, slowly guiding himself deep inside your pussy, groaning. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good. “Take everything for me, be a good girl.” He said, his gaze meeting the way you sucked him whole, you were too far gone to make sense of anything else. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good, you gasped when he pushed a leg against your torso, burying himself inside you and reaching your deepest point, you’ve never felt that full. “Look at that— fuck, you fit me just right.”

“Fuck. Yoongi, I-” You attempted to form a coherent sentence, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt his cock stretching you open, leaving you breathless.

“How’s that, hmh?”

Lacking a better response, you nodded, letting a small whimper leave your lips. “Please, move…” You mumbled, immediately feeling how he began to set a pace, moving languidly and enjoying how your body adjusted to him as he moved inside you. He slid his cock almost completely out of you, slamming back to meet your body once again, you felt yourself dripping down his length, certain that you were becoming a complete mess. “It’s so good.” You whimpered, not even thinking straight, you were completely focused on the way he was slipping in and out of your wet heat.

Yoongi could only think how good you felt, just the view of you, overwhelmed with your eyes barely open, biting your lips so you made the least amount of noise possible, made his cock throb inside you, making him feel like he was on the verge of breaking. “You’re so tight, baby.” He moaned out, obsessed with the way you wrapped around him perfectly, the way your cunt pulled him back in every time he pulled away, the way your breast bounced in front of him as he drilled in and out of you. He was sure he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he knew that, considering that you were just about to cum a few moments ago, you weren’t going to last long either. “You look so pretty taking me, wish I could take a picture.”

“God- Yoongi…” You whimpered, his name slipping out, the only word you could grasp, filling every corner of your mind.. You felt your pleasure building in your belly and your thighs trembling as he kept thrusting inside you, “I’m not, oh-” Your voice got caught in your throat when you felt a particularly hard thrust hit your sweet spot, leaving you breathless.

“You like it, baby?” He grunted against your neck leaving wet kisses on your skin as his thrusts deepened . You nodded several times, the only thing you could do was moan in response. “Tell me you like it.”

“I- Yes, I love it, feels so good.” You slurred, feeling his lips kissing your jaw, your check and then catching your lips, kissing you softly, a gesture so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you open.

He bit your lips tenderly “You feel so nice.” He murmured against your mouth, “Want to have you like this all night, would you let me?” Your voice was cut by a moan, as if you could find an answer for that anyway. “Would you let me fuck you all night?”

You were certain that his words were going to be engraved in your mind for a long time, you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he pronounced each syllable, compelling you into saying whatever he wanted to hear, how he looked at you without any kind of inhibition, how he touched you like your body was his only; you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Y-yes, please.” You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around him at the thought.

“Such a good girl.” He said between huffs. “So perfect, like you were made just for me.”

Completely drunk on his compliments, you sobbed, digging your nails on his biceps once he began to sped his thrusts, he could see the desire spreading all over your face, moaning into his mouth “Fuck, right there.” You said in the prettiest of whimpers “I’m- so close.”

“You gonna cum for me?” You didn’t need to tell him, he could feel the way you were throbbing around his cock, bouncing up and down and getting tighter with each thrust, it was driving him crazy.

“Yeah, I’m-“ You struggled to finish the sentence, your thoughts were all tangled, your words stumbled upon each other, “It’s too much…” you could only feel the burning sensation between your legs, your wet thighs, his hips hitting against yours filling the room with filthy sounds. Somewhere in your mind there was a version of you that was worried about the sound of Yoongi’s headboard hitting the wall, or how loud both of you sounded, or the fact that Yoongi’s building was full of elder people who will have more than a reason to complain the next day, but if you were being honest, right now you couldn’t find the will to even care about it one bit.

One of his hands reached to grab your jaw, making you look him straight into his eyes, but you were struggling to focus your crystallized gaze. “Want to see you cum for me.” He hissed, hypnotized by how pretty you looked, whimpering and sobbing around him. Without notice, one of his hands slithered between your bodies, running down your belly and meeting his fingers on your sensitive nub, tracing small circles on it to finish you. “Be good for me, baby, cream my cock.”

“Fuck, d-don’t stop…” Your eyes fluttered shut, arching your back off the mattress as you felt yourself coming undone. You had never felt that way, so high on your own pleasure, a few more thrusts were enough to push yourself over the edge, tightly squeezing around him and moaning his name like a broken record. You dug your nails into his back, clinging to him as though you might collapse if you let go, but he helped you ride your high, even if the sight of you was about to push him to his breaking point. “That’s it, baby, I got you.” He said, his voice barely hanging by a thread. His thrusts began to feel uncoordinated, a sign that he was not far from his release. “God, you’re so pretty, you’re gonna make me cum, too.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, making you swallow all his moans as he fucked himself into you, reaching his climax. The room was filled with your heavy breath, muffled moans, the sound of his skin hitting against your as you finished milking him dry, with your forehead against his, murmuring his name in the dark as you both came down from your high.

You were tired, your whole body felt heavy and sore, but you still felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips kissed you, making you feel like you were in an alternate universe.

“You’re not real.” He said, mesmerized as he met your teary eyes. You didn’t know where this Yoongi came from, but you didn’t want him to leave.

You groaned, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re too much…” You said, hiding your face in his neck.

You heard him chuckle as his body softened on top of you. “Get used to it.”

Maybe it was time to admit that you were a bit messed up in the head, realizing you never quite knew when to let your guard down. You could excuse it by saying you'd spent so long building walls around yourself that you’d forgotten what it felt like to live without them, or you could just tell the truth and say that you were afraid.

As you rested in Yoongi’s bed, refusing to fall asleep, you observed him, wishing to be as clueless and unafraid of the future as him.

You heard his muffled voice, Yoongi’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, as he refused to go to sleep just yet. “You never told me if you like me too.” He said as he hugged your waist.

You traced your fingers along the back of his neck, gently threading through his long hair at the nape.

“I don’t, what gave you the impression?” You joked, making him bite the skin of your neck for teasing him.

“C’mon…” He said, glancing up “Tell me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, his eyes barely open and the pout on his mouth while he asked you to confirm something obvious.

“I like you, Yoongi. I really do.” You confirmed, as if it was ever necessary to do so.

“But since when?” He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense.

“I can't tell you that.”

He frowned, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “Why?”

You shrugged, trying to avoid his eyes. “Mmm... because it's embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t care,” He insisted, shifting to lie down beside you, settling onto the pillow with a gentle sigh. You turned towards him, mirroring his position from before and resting your head on his chest, your fingers tracing random patterns along his chest.

“I know,” You murmured, your voice softer now. “But I would.” You hesitated, the words tasting heavier than you'd expected. “It’s just... it’s a long time.”

He propped himself up slightly, looking down at you, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “How long?” He pressed. “Since college?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Longer than that.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Mmm... since high school?” His voice held a teasing edge. “I wasn’t that cute back then.”

“You were really cute in high school,” you found yourself admitting, a smile tugging at your lips as your mind wandered back. You could still picture him, awkward in his oversized clothes and square glasses, but somehow, to you, he’d been the only boy who existed.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So... since high school.”

“Mmm…” You hesitated to answer. Hiding your face on his chest. You felt his fingers on your waist, squeezing the flesh so he could make you look at him. “A bit longer than that.”

Yoongi sighed, trying to think of a memory where he remembered you having a crush on him, but nothing came to mind. For someone you claimed to be the smartest person in the room, he seemed to be completely clueless. Perhaps because Yoongi always saw you as your brother's little sister, as this teenager that wanted nothing to do with her brother, as his friend. The idea of you having a crush on him since that long was crazy, but more crazy was the fact that he didn't notice at all.

“God, don’t make that face,” you complained, rolling your eyes as you shifted uncomfortably.

“What face?” he asked, his voice distant, a slight frown tugging at his features as he seemed momentarily distracted.

“I told you, it’s embarrassing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad to have a crush on me?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks flush. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” He shook his head with a playful grin, inching closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “I still want to know.”

You huffed, debating whether to tell him the truth or not.

“What exactly do you want to know?” You asked, a mix of hesitation and willingness in your voice, ready to answer his question.

“Mmm... I don’t know, when did you know?” He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held a deeper curiosity.

“I was a kid, Yoongi,” You replied, your voice softening, as if the memory itself were a weight.

“What about it? I’m curious.”

Maybe you were the only one in the room who found it embarrassing, because Yoongi wasn’t judging you—he was simply asking, genuinely interested. But the answer… it came from somewhere deep inside, a place you couldn’t quite reach, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t something that could be spoken so easily, yet here you were, on the verge of telling him.

You smiled, closing your eyes. “The thing is… that I don’t think is something that I can remember, Yoongi.” You confessed “It’s embarrassing because maybe I always felt that way. I was never the kind of kid who could be easily understood, but you did, and in those moments where you didn't, you sided with me anyway. And I don't know, I felt like you saw right through me and I liked that. I guess that messed with my head, because I knew that what I felt was somewhat irrational but I couldn't make it go away, I tried but I still can't. I have always been kind of a loser.”

Yoongi’s chest tightened, as though a quiet ache settled in, deep and raw. It was as if he could sense the weight behind your words—the hesitation, the vulnerability—but he knew they were nothing but the truth. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for him began, because, in a way, he had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface of your thoughts.

He reached out, his hand gently threading through your hair before sliding down your back, pulling you closer to him.

“You're not a loser, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice low and steady as his fingers found the back of your neck, keeping you anchored to him. “And you’re not difficult to understand. You’re not irrational, or crazy, or losing your mind.” A soft laugh escaped you as you listened to him list off your most frequent self-deprecating phrases.

“Isn’t it a bit embarrassing, though?” You whispered, the words barely escaping your lips

“What, having a crush?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

You nodded, but a part of you wanted to shake your head, to clarify that it wasn’t just about the crush. It was the way you had fallen in love with him—because, somehow, he was the only one who could ever truly understand you.

“For this long?” You whispered.

“Nothing wrong with that,” He replied, his fingers gently tracing through your hair, the touch soothing.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you pressed a kiss to his chest, settling closer against him. You felt a wave of warmth washing all over your body.

“You're too good to me.”

He let out a soft laugh, sitting up straighter on the bed. “Come here,” He murmured, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer with ease. “I want to kiss you until you give me a toothache.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch as his hands cupped your face. “I’m too sour to give you a toothache.”

“No, you're sweet,” He insisted, his grip tightening around your waist. With a playful move, he slid one of your legs around his, drawing you onto his lap. “You're nauseatingly sweet. Now shut up, sit here.” You settled on his lap, still shaking your head in defiance, even as your body remained pressed against his. “I want you to ride me.”

You snorted, surprised. “I have to shower...” You murmured, trying to pull back, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders to create some distance.

“Ride me first,” he breathed, his voice low and insistent. “Then we’ll shower.”

He leaned in for a kiss, grabbing your waist to keep you pressed to his body. “We?” You asked against his lips, chuckling.

You didn’t forget the fact that you were still naked, he kept kissing you, aligning your hips so he could rub your slit with his cock, making you wince. “Don’t you want to shower with me?” He innocently asked, pressing down your body against him so there was no space between the two of you.

You bit his lip, making him let out a small moan against your mouth. “Maybe…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Why would I want to?”

“‘Cause I’ll make you cum.” He said without any trace of hesitation in his voice.

You groaned, rolling your hips against his body. “Really?” You kept teasing. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard, his hands sliding to your ass to pull you closer. “How?”

He raised his hips to meet your entrance, teasing your clit with every movement. From a second to another, you were trapped in a trance again. “First, I’m fucking you with my fingers.” He slowly said, his voice deep as he left a kiss on your neck, his palms gripping your ass to press you closer to him. You nodded, enjoying the way he handled you as he pleased. “And when you’re close I’m gonna start eating out that lovely pussy of yours. But when you think you’re just about to cum I’ll stop.” You whimpered, your head already spinning at the thought. The only logical thought in your mind was that Yoongi should be thrown in jail for the way he spoke, and the way he was moving. “I will only fuck you with my cock when you’re begging me to fill you with my cum, would you like that?” You let out a shaky breath, nodding, not thinking much about what you were agreeing to. “Would you like me to cum inside you, baby?”

You nodded pathetically, your eyes fluttering shut as he ease the ache between your legs every time he rolled his hips against your body. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, feeling completely ridiculous at the thought of cumming like this. Suddenly, he stopped his movements, making you open your eyes to look at him.

Yoongi was looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his face, ready to tease you. “Or I can let you go, I don’t mind.” He murmured, leaving an innocent kiss on your lips.

You punched his arm, annoyed at him. “Fuck you.”

It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because you haven’t left since you arrived.

You knew you should probably leave, give your mother a New Year’s kiss in person rather than sending a quick text, change into fresh clothes, and get some proper sleep. But inside these four walls, it was as if time had not passed. You’d woken up this morning beside him, determined to be the kind of girl who slipped away early, left no trace and didn't linger. But instead of the cold chill of the morning, you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, his breath soft against your neck. So, you let yourself stay just a few seconds longer, waiting for him to wake up first.

You stayed in bed until he offered one of his t-shirts to wear and kissed your nose, he only left the bed to make breakfast.

Now you were kneeling on the floor, lowering your head to search under Yoongi’s bed for your dress. You wondered what would be worse: showing up at home in Yoongi’s clothes or wearing last night’s dress.

“What are you looking for?” You heard his voice behind you. You sat up, turning your attention to him. He was still wrapped in his morning look—gray sweatpants, a black tee, and ruffled hair, probably thanks to you. Damn, he looked good.

“My dress.” You explained “Where did you throw it?”

“Oh, I put it in my wardrobe,” He answered casually, extending his hand to help you up from the floor. You took it, trying to keep the shirt you were wearing from hiking up—though it was a losing battle. “Why?”

“I’d better get going,” You said shyly, nodding towards the door.

“Why?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well, um…” You stammered, searching for an answer, but you didn’t have one.

“You can stay,” he interrupted, his tone firm.

“I don’t know… I have no clothes.” The words felt foolish as soon as they left your mouth.

He scoffed. “You have clothes.” He scanned your body from head to toe, but all you were wearing was an old shirt that still smelled like his perfume and a pair of boxers he’d kindly offered you after tossing your black panties in the wash. You didn’t actually have clothes. “You’re dressed right now.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your waist over the fabric of his shirt. You unconsciously stepped towards him, letting him cup your face with one of his hands.“I wish you weren’t, though.”

“Yoongi…” You whined, hypnotized by the way he bit his bottom lip.

“What?” He murmured.

“My mom?…” You mumbled, making him laugh once again.

“Are you serious?” He asked, his knee slowly pushing between your legs—was he trying to make you trip into his bed?

You gripped his shoulders tightly, determined to stay on your feet.

“I bet your mom’s just fine,” He said, his voice laced with mockery. “Unless you want to leave.”

His knee pressed deeper into your thigh, but you fought back, unwilling to let gravity win so easily.

You tried to come up with a clever, sassy response, something that would shut down his attempts to make you blush, but you were too focused on not falling into his bed. You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, lowering his voice and pulling your face closer with his grip.

You pursed your lips, finally losing the battle with gravity as you tumbled into the bed, pulling him down with you. Your eyes locked for a brief moment, the room so still you could hear the pounding of your own heartbeat and the soft sound of his hands running up your thighs, squeezing the skin beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Or do you want to stay?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear, though the words seemed to echo in your mind.

You were too proud to say anything, he should’ve known you didn’t like to ask for things, but he was proud as well, he needed you to say it, and maybe this time you wanted to do it.

“I’ll stay...” You whispered, making him smirk.

“Mmm… I won’t argue with that.” He murmured, pressing your nose against yours and kissing you with his mouth open, melting you under his body as his hands did the rest of the work.

And when you finished, tangled with each other, with his nose buried in your neck and his body on top of yours, he breathed out. You sighed, observing the watch on his wrist next to your head, it was only eleven in the morning. And that should be the perfect moment to run away before he kicked you out, but when you tried to move under his body, you found his gaze.

“What?” He smiled, gripping your waist so you stayed there.

“Nothing…” You said “Am not allowed to look at you now?”

“No, you are.” He said “You’re just not allowed to look at me like you’re about to tell me you have to run away- I mean, that you have to leave.”

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ll get tired of me.”

He braced himself on his arms, lowering his hands into the mattress as he hovered above you, just like he had five minutes ago before you came undone under him. The memory sent a flutter through your stomach, but now, he looked cute—confused by your words.

“You know, if you leave, I’m just going to follow you home, right?” He said, catching you off guard.

“Are you serious?” You scoffed.

“I mean, what are you going to say? You have no clothes, you have to shower, you have to see your mom?”

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What if I want to see my mom?” You teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Leave your mom alone, Pinky,” He shot back, grinning. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Stay with me today.”

You tilted your head, eyes searching his lips. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Stay with me tomorrow too,” He insisted, his voice soft but firm. “And the day after, as well.”

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into...” You warned, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” He said, his gaze steady. “Trust me, I do.”

You wondered how long you could stay before you snapped out of the trance, how many kisses you could give, how many secrets you could share, how many times he could lift your shirt up your chest, kiss your stomach, kiss your neck. It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because after that you couldn’t escape his hands for the whole day.

Yoongi’s apartment suddenly became a universe of its own. He played music while you danced through the kitchen. He put on a movie as the snow fell outside, and you snuck onto his bed, napped wrapped in his arms, and woke up just in time for dinner.

For a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Yoongi showed you pictures of the hotel he was planning to book for your getaway to the beach, mentioning that he’d considered booking two rooms but now didn’t think it was necessary. You received a call from Simon, but you simply wished him a happy New Year without telling him anything. You texted your mom, letting her know you were with Yoongi, and she didn’t ask any questions. You texted Minnie, but her response was quite different—she bombarded you with almost twenty texts, begging you to tell her everything.

Yoongi was serious, he wouldn’t let you go that easily. After dinner he trapped you in bed and kissed you till you were out of breath, making you promise that you’ll stay the night again.

“What if I have other plans?” You murmured as you brushed the hair away from his face.

“What other plans would you have?” He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know, what if I have to see a boy?” You shot back, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Mmm, what boy?” He asked.

You bit your lip, sensing the opportunity waiting for you to seize it.

“I think you know him, actually,” You said, shifting slightly under him. You seemed to find yourself in that position more often than you realized. “His name’s Namjoon. Does that ring any bells?”

Yoongi blinked, clearly caught off guard, before letting out a soft chuckle. He grinned mischievously, then quickly reached for your sides, tickling you until you squirmed. “You’re asking for it now,” He teased, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in to nip playfully at the skin there.

You burst out laughing, trying to wiggle away. “Stop! Stop, I’m serious!” you gasped between laughs, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you tried to push him off.

Present

By the time Friday came, you had already decided you were on vacation. After a few calls with Sally and another few calls with your publicist, you had cleared your schedule completely and you were free to do whatever you wanted for the next three months. You supposed you deserved it, or that was what you were trying to convince yourself about as you had breakfast and planned what you were going to do today —which was nothing.

As the days passed, the news, reporters, and everyone else trying to reach you for a statement began to forget about you, it turned out to be that you weren’t the most important person in the world, and saying no to a marriage proposal wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done. The world kept spinning and everyone moved on to the next scandal, but the ache in your chest didn’t go away that quick.

You tried contacting Ian countless times. At first, all you wanted was to confront him and to ask him to tell you the truth, but by the tenth attempt, you were ready to curse him and his entire family. The fact that he had blocked your number only confirmed what you suspected—he was the one who leaked the pictures.

Making peace with it felt impossible; it was as though you’d been lying beside a stranger, an enemy, for nearly four years. You wondered if he felt the same about you right now—if that was why he did what he did. But you weren’t the most forgiving person to exist, nor was forgetting in your nature. So even if some part of you knew it might be healthier to let go, you clung to the bitterness, feeling it settle deep inside you, a grudge you were ready to carry for as long as it took. Letting go simply wasn’t an option.

Still, you didn’t let the whole scandal ruin your main plan—an early vacation in October. But it seemed your friend Minnie, sitting across from you with a glare that could kill, was more than ready to.

Minnie didn’t keep insisting you on helping her with The Alley, but you knew that she was counting on you. You promised to go with her today, but the fact that you didn’t say a word about it the whole week was beginning to make her think that you changed your mind.

“I’m going with you today.” You said without taking your eyes off your phone. “You don’t need to look at me like that.”

You heard her sigh in relief. “God, I was afraid you would say no.”

“I said I would the other day, didn’t I?” You reminded her, making her roll her eyes.

“Yes, like you are a person who doesn’t change her mind at all.”

You laughed, letting her comment slide.

By the afternoon, you were standing at the door of The Alley, waiting behind Minnie as she tried each one of the fifty keys of the keyring in locks of the large wooden doors. “I never know which key is.” She murmured under her breath, annoyed.

You weren’t of much help, all you could do was observe her as she cursed Sid for not labeling the keys, hiding in your scarf just in case she took it on you as well. Minnie peered through the keyhole, as if she could glimpse the shape of the lock and somehow figure out which key would fit. You took a look around at the park, which was completely desolated, except for the view of two people approaching down the street.

It took you exactly two seconds to figure out who that was, after all, you had memorized every tiny bit of Yoongi’s personality, including the way he walked. There he was, this time dressed casually, with a black hoodie on and a black cap over his head, laughing and chatting with a blonde girl who you didn’t recognize at all.

You turned immediately, pretending you hadn’t just seen him and that girl heading in your direction. Your first instinct was to curse Minnie for not warning you that Yoongi would be here, but, in fairness, she had mentioned he’d be around—and you had assured her it didn’t bother you. Still, you hadn’t expected him to appear the moment you arrived. For the sake of keeping your word, you played dumb, pretending not to have seen him.

“This is pissing me off.” Said your friend, straightening up and wiping the sweat off her forehead. She looked around, catching the glimpse of Yoongi almost as quickly as you did. “Oh, don’t turn around.” She warned you as she waved at him, faking a smile. “You don’t want to know who’s coming.”

“I already know.” You gritted through your teeth.

“How did you know?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you feel him coming? How? Do you have some kind of spidey sense I don’t know about? Like… an ex-boyfriend radar or something?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. No. I saw him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, but you just shrugged, already hearing steps behind you, slowing down as they approached you.

“Hey, guys,” Minnie said with a polite smile, holding up the jangling keyring. “Am I late? I’ve been wrestling with these keys.”

Yoongi’s eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of unease flashing across his face before he shifted his gaze to the blonde girl beside him. Her expression froze for just a moment, her gaze landing on you with a slight look of recognition, but you barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on the uncomfortable pause that followed. “Uh… no, you’re fine,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we’re just a bit early.”

You murmured a quiet “hi,” watching as Yoongi stepped towards Minnie. “Let me see,” he said in that low voice of his, reaching for the keyring. Minnie handed it over eagerly, clearly too flustered to remember introductions, but you didn’t mind. You had no interest in learning who Yoongi had shown up with—not in the slightest. “I already told you which one it is.”

In what universe Yoongi knew which key opened the doors of The Alley? Apparently, in this one. In a matter of seconds he had found the key and opened without any problem, leaving Minnie thanking him.

“I need to label it before I lose it again.” She said.

The blonde watched them both, her gaze flickering to you for just a moment before returning to Yoongi. She shifted her weight, as if she was waiting for something else to happen while Yoongi and Minnie exchanged words, but you kept quiet. You were quite used to people recognizing you on the street, especially in your hometown where every single person knew your name, that didn’t mean that you enjoyed it.

“Look, it has different slots from the other ones.” He showed her, and Minnie looked carefully as he pointed the key.

“Fine, I’ll try to remember.” She nodded, grabbing the keyring from his hands. “Now enter, time to work.”

Minnie clapped her hands as she stepped inside, disappearing ahead and leaving you, Yoongi, and the blonde girl—someone you'd never seen before—standing there, exchanging glances as if there were something unspoken between you all. The blonde shifted her gaze to you briefly, her expression unreadable yet somehow expectant. You felt a knot tightening in your chest and quickly slipped past them without acknowledging it, catching up to Minnie and putting the awkwardness of the moment behind you.

“You can play some music if you want.” Said Minnie, disappearing through a hall that led to the office.

You hurried towards her, leaving Yoongi and his friend behind without a backward glance.

“Why does Yoongi know how to open the doors, and you don’t?” You whispered, quickening your steps to keep up with Minnie.

“I told you, he’s here all the time,” She replied, barely slowing down as she moved ahead. “He has to fix some lights from the theater today.”

“And... who was that?” You asked, slipping into the office and closing the door behind you a little faster than necessary.

Minnie dropped her bag on the desk with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t know—some girl he’s seeing now,” She replied, shrugging. “She’s just here to keep him company. I doubt she cares much about The Alley, but hey, not my business.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the faintest stir of something you couldn’t quite name. You pushed it aside—no need to dwell on it.

“How do you know?” You asked, trying to sound casual. “Is he your personal friend now?”

She chuckled, sitting back in her chair. “We’re friendly,” the redhead replied, her tone light as if that wasn’t the biggest betrayal of all.

You let yourself fall into the chair across from her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” She said with a shrug. “I don’t really have a choice.” Then, her gaze met yours. “We don’t talk about you, though. He doesn’t dare say your name.”

“He doesn’t mention me but he talks about the girls he’s seeing?” You asked, crossing your arms above your chest.

“Yes, it’s like he’s seen a ghost everytime someone says your name, it’s funny.” She said “And why are you asking, anyway? Are you jealous?” She teased.

You couldn’t deny that the fact that Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear your name gave you a little bit of satisfaction, but knowing that he also shared the details of his most recent date with who was supposed to be your best friend pissed you off.

“You’re a traitor, Minnie,” You muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Didn’t you say you had no problem with him being around?” She shot back, using your own words against you. “He’s helping out with everything. I can’t exactly avoid being friendly.”

You huffed, already knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the sting of betrayal. “Still…” you grumbled, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. “You’re supposed to be on my side, one hundred percent.”

“I have to choose my battles, honey.” She sighed, paying little attention to your tantrum. “For the sake of this place, at least.”

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair, arms still crossed. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” You muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, but it still seeped through.

Minnie slipped through some papers on the desk, glancing up to you. “Besides… I can be on your side, which I am, and still be friendly to him. I’m not trying to brainwash you, but he’s a great guy, you know? Overall…”

“I know that.” You said, defeated, “I know that more than anyone.”

Your friend didn’t need to convince you; you knew better than anyone how impossible it was to dislike Yoongi. You knew that he was a great man, a great son, a great neighbor. That he loved his mother, was the best friend of everyone and girls loved him. And yet, it was for all those reasons that you resented him. If only he were just a little less of all those things, a little more selfish, maybe—just maybe—he might have chosen you.

Four years ago

You have never been the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but the next morning, tangled in sheets under Yoongi’s body, you were.

That afternoon you inevitably had to say goodbye to him, but not without him putting on a good fight first. His mom was coming back from vacation that night and you refused to be there when she arrived just to find you wearing her son’s clothes as pajamas for the second day in a row, even if Yoongi argued that there was nothing wrong with it since she’d known you all your life. At the end he ended up agreeing with you, deciding that maybe you were right and driving you home.

You walked backwards towards the porch, blowing kisses to Yoongi, who sat in his car, trying to catch each one of them. He waited until you opened the door and winked at you, waving a goodbye before starting the car and disappearing. Closing the door behind you, you felt your heart beating against your ribcage, threatening to escape from your body. You leaned against the door for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the space around you. Your breath was shallow, your chest tight, as if the air itself was heavier now that he was gone.

You had always been in love with Yoongi; it was a weight you had carried for most of your life. You had grown tired of trying to get rid of it, learning to live with it as if it were a curse. But this time, it felt different, it was like love was supposed to feel like.

You wanted things to sink in and be as far from him as you possibly could, but as soon as you heard the car driving away, a sudden urge to run and look for him took over you.

Still, you lay in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like you were sixteen again, wondering if it was okay to text him first. What should you say? That you had a great time? That you wanted to see him again? You wished he could have just appeared at your doorstep without you having to ask. You wished to hear the sound of a rock against your window, only to find out it was him, calling for you.

Later that night, you did receive a text from Yoongi, though not in the way you had imagined.

Almost all of Yoongi’s memories were of just him and his mom together. The concept of family had always been different for him than it was for everyone else, but he had learned to embrace it. Even so, he often wished things could have been different—that his mother didn’t have to work two jobs, that he didn’t have to spend so much time in other people’s homes, that the concept of a family of two didn’t come with so many complications.

Yoongi had spent most of his childhood with nannies and Simon’s mom, observing how Lila took her of her children and hoping that image could be his instead.

He grew up trying not to cause much trouble, working to help his mom, studying hard, and striving to earn a full scholarship. Between long hours at part-time jobs and nights spent pouring over textbooks, he found himself attending to her when her health took a turn—making meals, running errands, or simply sitting by her side to ensure she was comfortable. The weight of responsibility shaped him early, leaving little room for his own dreams, doing everything he could to lighten her burden while quietly dreaming of a future where neither of them had to struggle.

His mother had become a priority and he never complained, he loved her, but in the meantime he was slowly forgetting about himself without noticing.

That night, Yoongi had created a group chat to inform all his family that his mother had suffered an accident on her way home from vacation. She had fallen, breaking her hip in the process, and now required surgery as soon as possible. The tone of his message was calm, almost detached, as if he were trying to keep the weight of the situation from overwhelming anyone. Still, you could feel the urgency behind his words, the unspoken worry pressing between the lines.

His message said that she was going into surgery in a few hours and that his aunt was with him, but didn’t answer any other message for the rest of the night until the next morning, when he announced that the surgery had gone okay and that Nari was fine, though she didn’t wake up yet.

You felt a whole carving in your chest just by thinking of him, handling the situation alone. You knew that Yoongi always tried to convince everyone he was fine on his own, that he didn’t need anyone’s help, but you couldn’t shake the image of him sitting in a hospital chair, exhausted and worn, holding it together for everyone else while no one held it together for him.

Even if you wanted to visit Nari, to be there for both of them, Yoongi explicitly said that people could only visit her once she was at home, three days later.

That very same morning you began your ten block walk to Yoongi’s home, starting to feel your feet getting frozen inside of your monochrome black Converse, your fingers numbing inside your half finger gloves and a strange feeling in your gut that was slowly creeping up on you.

You tried to tell yourself that it was the bad taste that left you the news of the accident, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of worry, hence the anxious feeling in your stomach. Even if Yoongi had said that everything went alright, you still were worried.

You turned around and looked at the end of the street where your home was, wondering if you should go back and take your car, but you ultimately buried your hands in the pockets of your jacket and decided to carry on your way; ten blocks in the snow never killed anyone.

When you started to approach the old building, flashbacks immediately assaulted your memory in the least subtle of ways, it was like every kiss lingered in your skin, you couldn’t wash them off.

You rang the bell, announced yourself and in less than five minutes you were in front of Yoongi’s door like you were a few days ago.

“Pinky, I-... I didn’t know you were coming.” Was the first thing he said.

Yoongi’s face was a map of exhaustion, his eyelids hung heavy and the skin beneath his eyes shadowed by the weight of sleepless nights.

“Hi to you too,” you mumbled.

“Sorry... Hi. You surprised me,” Yoongi replied, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. “I wanted to see Nari. I tried to text you, but-”

“I haven’t been paying attention to my phone,” He interrupted, his gaze dropping for a brief moment, a tired sigh escaping him.

You frowned slightly, unsure if it was the weariness or something else. “Yeah, I’m sure. But I was hoping she’d be here already.”

“We arrived a few hours ago,” He explained, his voice low, as if the weight of the past few hours still clung to him.

Silence stretched between you, the kind that felt heavy, as if neither of you knew quite how to fill it.

“How are you?” You said, taking a step closer to him.

“I’m okay now that she’s home,” Yoongi admitted, his voice low and strained. “But… I was so stressed I thought I was going to pass out.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a pang of helplessness surging through you. You fought the urge to pull him into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t erase the exhaustion carved into him.

“What exactly happened?” You pressed gently, your tone careful.

Yoongi exhaled, leaning briefly against the doorframe, his gaze distant. “She slipped and landed in the worst possible way. Her hip… it didn’t just crack. It broke clean through, but not in the middle, more on the edge, closer to where it connects to the rest of her leg. They said the pieces weren’t in the right place anymore, and they had to go in and put it back together” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “I wasn’t even with her. It was my aunt who called me, and by the time I got to the hospital, they were already preparing her for surgery.”

“How is she?” You asked softly, glancing at him.

“She’s... recovering,” Yoongi said, running a hand through his hair. “The doctors said the bone broke just outside the joint. They had to put this metal nail inside her thigh bone and screw it into place to hold everything steady so it can heal.”

“A nail?” You repeated, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “It’s supposed to keep the bone stable. They said it’s the best way to fix this kind of break. She’s in a lot of pain, though.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for her... or for you.” You took a step closer, watching the weariness in his expression.

Yoongi let out a shaky breath. “She’s tough, though. Tougher than me, that’s for sure.”

You kept silent for a second. “Can I see her?” You almost whispered, unsure, but he quickly moved away from the door.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, suddenly remembering you were still outside of his home. “Come in, she’ll be happy to see you. I’ll let her know first.”

You stood in the living room as you watched him disappear through the hall where both of their rooms were, trying to avoid any kind of memory you had from a few nights ago. Why did you have to think of that in moments like these?

After a few seconds, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s face from the hall, telling you to follow him. You followed his voice, entering Nari’s room without making much noise.

She was laying in bed with a blanket draped over her legs. She looked up as you entered, her eyes lighting up with a welcoming smile that made her seem so much like Yoongi, and yet, not entirely. She was clearly in pain, but her cheerfulness masked it, her eyes twinkling with the same kindness you remembered.

“Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Nari said warmly, her voice a little strained but genuine. “I didn’t expect you to drop by.”

“How come? I wanted to come check on you.” You smiled, taking a cautious step closer “Simon and my mom, too. They all want to see you.”

“Oh, they don’t have to!” She waved off “I’ll be on my feet in no time, this was nothing.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before shifting to Yoongi, who was quietly standing behind you.

You glanced over at him, catching the flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he quickly masked it. You wanted to ask him what was going on, but you didn’t dare in front of his mother. Instead, you focused on her, trying to offer a comforting smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Nari,” You said, your voice soft but sincere. “It must’ve been scary.”

“Oh, I’ve had worse.” She shifted her weight slightly, and you could see a flash of discomfort cross her face, but she quickly masked it with another smile. “It’s just a little fracture. Nothing to worry about, really.”

Yoongi shifted, his hands gripping the keys in his pocket, eyes flicking towards his mom before looking back at you. “The doctors said she needs to use a wheelchair for a while.” He interrupted, as if he was trying to remind his mom rather than telling you about it.

Nari gave him a sharp look, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a softer, more forced smile. “I’m okay. Really, I’m tougher than I look.” She looked up at you.

You nodded, but something in the way she looked at Yoongi made you pause. There was an underlying tension there, something unspoken. You weren’t sure if it was because of the accident or something else, but it felt like you had stepped into a moment that wasn’t meant for you.

“I’ll be fine,” Nari repeated, as if to reassure both you and Yoongi. “I’m just happy to see you two together. It’s been so long since you visited.”

You smiled, trying to match her enthusiasm. “We should all get together sometime soon, once you’re feeling better.”

You could tell she was trying to downplay everything, to act like it was just another ordinary day. But the quiet discomfort in the room, the way Yoongi stood slightly apart from her, told a different story.

You watched Yoongi shift again, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cleared his throat. “We should let you rest, Mom.”

Nari smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Yes, yes. I’ll be fine. You two go on.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in the room like a heavy cloud, but not wanting to draw it out any longer. As you followed Yoongi out, you could still feel in your stomach the feeling you had when you left your house earlier.

Yoongi held the door open for you as you stepped out of the living room, your footsteps soft against the wooden floor. Neither of you said anything as you walked to the elevator at the end of the hall, the silence stretching between you like an invisible thread. Yoongi pressed the call button, and the sound of Yoongi opening the door of the elevator was the only sound that broke the stillness.

Inside, the faint hum of the elevator motor filled the space as you both stood side by side. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers on the wall.

“You okay?” You asked, looking at his soft face. He glanced up, his eyes sidetracking towards your lips before looking away.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He simply said.

Yoongi stepped out first, waiting for you to follow before leading the way through the lobby and towards the glass doors at the exit. The cold morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, sharp and bracing after the warmth of the building. Yoongi stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, his breath visible in the frosty air as he exhaled. You tightened your own coat around you, walking alongside him as the wind tugged at your hair.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” You wondered out loud, watching him closing the door behind him, clutching the keys in his hand as he leaned against the stair railing beside you.

“Nothing, she just…keeps picking fights with me. She’s been unbearable since the surgery.” He sighed, frustration heavy in his voice. “She tries to tell everyone it’s nothing but it’s not like that. She didn’t like it when the doctor told her she had to use a wheelchair, she refused.”

You looked up at him. Yoongi had always been taller than you, making you tilt your chin just slightly to meet his gaze. “She needs time to process it. You know how she is—she’s never liked being helped. Just give her space, and she’ll come around. Don’t be too hard on her, okay?”

He let out a sharp breath. “It’s her who’s being hard on me,” He muttered. He shook his head, the frustration evident in his eyes. “Did you see the way she looked at me? The only reason she was being nice was because you were there.”

“I know it’s tough,” You said softly, “but she’s not used to this. Just a few days ago, everything was normal, and now she’s facing this huge change—she has to use a wheelchair for who knows how long. The meds might be messing with her mood too.”

“The meds are driving her crazy,” He affirmed.

“Well, see? It’s not your fault.” You said, reaching your hand to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing everything you can, she will come around.”

Yoongi closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips close to his face, there was something about your touch that burned him through his skin, pulling him into a trance.

A silence settled between the two of you, you shared a glance with him, your eyes meeting each other like a secret. It was like you could see everything that happened in his room a few nights ago just by looking him in the eye, like every kiss and every word were still palpable in the air.

On the surface, Yoongi knew he should be worried about other things, that his mother was the most important thing right now, but in the back of his mind there was you, laying on his bed as you begged him for one more kiss, one more touch. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time to be trapped inside his room with you alone again, like you were the only people in the world.

“Pinky, I-”

“Yoongi-”

The words crashed into each other, a quiet storm of unspoken things hanging in the air between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid that night pressing down on the space between your breaths.

“We…” He tried to say, but he cut himself. “I’m sorry for not calling.”

You shook your head, waving it off “It’s okay, I understand. I just wanted to check on both of you.”

“I wanted to call you,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. “And I wanted to see you… but I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, Yoongi…” You murmured, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, his eyes avoiding yours like they were afraid of something.

“Pinky, about the trip to the beach-”

You cut him off gently, your voice firm despite the softness. “I’m not thinking about the trip to the beach.” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “I was worried about your mom, I was worried about you.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, his voice tight as he looked away.

“Yoongi, the trip can wait.” You insisted, but something told you that this wasn’t about the trip

He inhaled sharply, his breath shaky, as if the words were caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. His gaze darted to the side, then back to you.

“That’s the thing, Pinky, I don’t think it can.” His voice cracked slightly, a crack in the armor he'd been holding up. Suddenly, you felt your chest tighten, the words weighing heavily in the air. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this. I’ve been doing some thinking in the hospital, and I-” He paused, his breath hitching like he was trying to swallow something painful. “I don’t know how to say this, but maybe… we should leave this right here.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, the sudden shift in his words making it feel like the ground had disappeared beneath you. “I- What do you mean?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice barely audible now, thick with regret. His eyes flicked away, unable to meet yours. “For everything. I wanted to call you and explain… but I couldn’t. I was afraid you thought I used you and-”

“I never thought that.” You rushed to say, confused. “Why would I?”

Yoongi looked at you, at a loss for words, but he couldn’t stand holding your gaze for more than one second, even if you desperately tried to meet his eyes, as if that could make him make some sense.

“I don’t know, I-” He struggled to say. “I just wanted you to know that I said the truth the other night, you know that? I wasn’t lying but-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, your heart racing as a wave of nausea hit you.

He exhaled sharply, eyes dropping to the floor, still refusing to meet your eyes.. “Pinky… whatever happened these past few weeks… it shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was low, almost regretful. You felt a cold chill creep into your bones. The air between you had shifted, heavy and suffocating.

“Yoongi, why are you saying this?”

You took a step closer to him, but you felt his breath hitching, attempting to run away from you.

“Because I can’t leave to follow you, I can’t run away with you.” He firmly said, breaking your heart into a million pieces. “For the sake of everyone.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “For the sake of everyone, or for your sake only?” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to shield yourself from the cold that wasn’t just coming from the air. It was coming from him, too.

He threw his head back in frustration, closing his eyes, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. He wasn’t willing to turn this into a fight, but he clearly underestimated you if he thought you would just stay silent.

“Pinky, don’t make things more difficult.” He begged, but that only made it worse.

You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped you. “Yeah, but I can’t, can I? That’s always been my job, right?” You said, your voice trembling just enough to betray your anger. “I always have to make things difficult.”

He shook his head, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “C’mon, I didn’t say that. You’re making things up.”

You tried to maintain your composure, but the effort was slipping away. The knot in your throat grew tight, and it felt like your chest was about to crack open. Maybe it was in your nature to make this more difficult, to create a fight, to be resentful, but you couldn’t just stand there, pretending this wasn’t nonsense, that what he said wasn’t completely different from what he said nights ago. You couldn’t pretend this wasn’t hurting.

“Then, what is it?” You asked “It’s not me? It’s you?”

The silence that followed was overwhelming, the weight of his words settling in the space between you like a wall.

“It’s us.” He pronounced, his words hitting the air like thunder, reverberating down the empty street, carving themselves deep into your chest. “We are different, we- I can’t.”

For a moment it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just his voice. You swallowed hard, the burn of tears creeping into the corners of your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “Wasn’t it always like that?” You managed to choke out, your voice trembling, raw with hurt. “Because this isn’t what you told me the other night. What was it? That you wanted me? That you couldn’t stop dreaming of me? That I was the solution to all your problems?” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “Am I just supposed to walk away and accept it was all bullshit?”

You felt your cheeks burning red and your hands trembling as you closed them into fists. Your heart pounded so loudly in your ears you could barely hear your own words anymore. Handling your emotions the correct way wasn’t one of your qualities, because you hadn’t even realized you were raising your voice until Yoongi took a step forward, the heat of his presence forcing your breath to catch in your throat. You faltered, trying to steady yourself, but it was impossible.

“I told you I wasn’t lying to you.” He reminded you, his voice filled with emotions. “It wasn’t bullshit, I meant what I said, you are a dream of a girl, Pinky. But you… you drive me crazy.” He sighed, as if the words were tearing him apart. “Even when everything that was happening with my mom, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you, do you know how fucked up that sounds? I can’t let you do that to me.”

“What?” You spat. “Would that be so bad?”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shutting briefly, as if to block out the entire world. “Please, you know this.” His voice was strained now, almost pleading. “We can’t ignore it forever, I have to stop it now. You could never stay in one place, and even if I wanted to run away with you, I can’t. I have to stay here.”

“I was not going to run away. Not with you here.”

“And next year?” he asked, his tone sharp with frustration. “What happens next year? Or in five years? When you realize this isn’t what you wanted and you pack your bags again?—because I know you, do you think I don’t? You can’t stay, you never do. And I can’t leave.”

It was as if every cruel word the world had ever aimed at you, every harsh truth or bitter lie, was now coming from the lips of the one person who had always been on your side. You could understand that Yoongi was sad, tired and angry, but this was crossing the line.

You tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway, unable to defend yourself. What could you say? That it wasn’t true? Betraying your dignity and trying to convince him that staying with you was worth the shot? That it wasn’t as crazy as he made it sound? No. You had spent your life waiting for people to like you, but today you were stopping it. You stood there, not willing to wipe your tears and pointed to his chest, angry.

“God, you’re a fucking coward.” Your breath trembled, uneven, trying to hold it together.

“Pinky, please,” He breathed out, his voice low and desperate as he reached for your face.

“Don’t call me that.” You took a step back, shaking your head, your chest tightening. “I know you, too, you know? And I know this isn’t about me this time, this time it’s about you being afraid like you’ve always been.”

“Stop, please,” he begged again, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. But you couldn’t stop; anger burned through you, mixing with the ache in your chest, with the tears threatening to spill. You were angry, you were upset, you were fucking sad.

“Why?” you snapped, your voice sharp and trembling. “Is this not what you expected me to say? Or did you want me to admit that you’re right, like you always are—that I’m unpredictable, and a mess, and that I just don’t fit into your life like a normal girl would?”

“Y/n, I didn’t say any of that.” He replied softly, his eyes wide and pained, his shoulders sinking under the weight of your words.

The sound of your name ringed in your ears, but you ignored it. He didn’t say that but that was exactly what he meant, he couldn’t deny that.

“You know, I don’t even care about the road trip,” You said, your voice trembling with restrained frustration as you stepped down one step, still facing him. “There would have been plenty of chances for that, fine. Whatever.” You paused, gripping the railing, your breath unsteady. “And your mom? Of course she needs your help now, I wasn’t gonna complain, how could I? And next year? Sure, she’ll probably still need you. But in five years?” You looked straight at him, your eyes sharp, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “In five years, your mom’s going to hate that the only thing you ever did with your life was take care of her.”

Your voice cracked then, but you didn’t stop. “And me? Even if I’d love to do it, I won’t be here to tell you I told you so.”

Yoongi’s face was a mix of disbelief and hurt, the corners of his mouth tightening as if trying to hold back a response that wasn’t coming. You turned around, not sparing him another glance as you almost ran towards your home, ignoring your name being called over and over again from the voice of the man who just broke your heart.

Yoongi was painfully always there in your life. He was always the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have. When you turned the corner at the end of the street, determined not to look back, you decided that maybe now was time for you to accept it and finally move on.

taglist: taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie @jalexad

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killuakiru · 2 days ago

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hiiii!! omg ive been SCOURING for a hxh blog for a while bro there’s barely any that’s active 😭😭 could i request dating hcs for the main four? ty!! :3

YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN !! I've been waiting for a main 4 request !! I CAN FINALLY POST intrams r coming to a close so praise the lord 🙌 I promise I am working yall

⊹₊⋆ Lovey-Dovey!ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹₊⋆ Gn!Reader x K.Zoldyck, G.Freecss, L.Paradinight, K.Kurtaᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

༉‧₊˚. Start !༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Let's start with some pre-dating head canons !

• Honestly, seeing Killua's personality, he'd be really low-key about it and casual for some reason..

• You literally wouldn't think he likes you to that extent, but your label as his "best friend" Says numbers to him.

• Killua definitely confessed during his vulnerable moments, having a solemn and sad expression as he spoke. "The way you treat me compares to no other, but.. With my background, can I really be with someone so pure?"

• His words left you perplexed. What did his words mean at this current situation? "What are you saying..?" You mumbled with a raised eyebrow.

• "I'm saying I like you." Killua mumbles, a tint of irritation and vulnerability in his tone as he sighs.

• Post-dating head canons !

• The whole week you've been dating, everything was low-key. You were both casual with hints of romantic teasing gestures from him.

• Killua isn't the clingy or touchy type, but he'd always snake an arm around your shoulder and let you lean your body against his if he wants to feel your presence.

• Additionally, if he's feeling protective or in a scenario where you guys are in an unknown territory, he'll hold your hand and guide you.

• Killua isn't also the one to say direct praise, since he's known for not saying a simple gratitude to his friends, so he just gives you a small smile or nod of acknowledgement.

• The ways he shows his affection– is simply with the small actions he does. Whether it's the smallest. Placing a hand on your back and rubbing it, making you link your arm in his, and other stuff.

• Also, Killua absolutely LOVES admiring your expression or your appearance in general. His favorite thing to constantly look at? Your eyes. He probably thinks it's super cliche, but; he's simply a sucker for em. He loves seeing your true feelings and the bright shine of your eyes, it makes him fall for you again and again.

• His favorite activities he loves doing with you is probably just to spend quality time. Walking around the forest, sitting around a bond fire with your group, and more. That's his ideal.

• While Killua isn't verbal about his affection, you can easily tell that this boy is deeply in love with you and your whole being.

⊹₊⋆ Gon Freecss !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Gon is and would probably be the clingy type AT THE RIGHT TIME.

• He vocalizes his feelings a lot! Even an idiot would know that you're his beloved!

• "yn!! How're you doing?! Hope you're doing great!! I love you a bunch!" That's almost your wakeup call at this point.

• Pre-dating scenarios !!

• With how sweetly he treats other people in general, you assume that in a scenario where Gon is in a relationship he won't be that serious.

• But ohhh boy were you proved wrong when he confessed.

• "Did you know? I really like you. You're an amazing person.. You're super nice and everything, so uh.." He sheepishly confessed, rubbing his nape with a soft smile on his face.

• He seemed so genuine with his words, and we all know that Gon is honestly such a bad liar.

• Post Dating head canons !!

• my GOD does this boy give random trinkets.

• Oh he saw a flower while Killua and he was walking? Boom, flower crown. Oh he found a twig that formed into a heart shape? Boom it's in your possessions now.

• In contrast to everyone, Gon's super adventurous; his favorite activities he'd do with you is to travel around the world, a more realistic idea is travel to a place where you both haven't gone to yet.

• Gon isn't all that clingy as well, again– Gon is pretty clingy at the right time.

• The said "right time" is where he sees you after such a long time. Pulling you into a long and warm hug with hushed words of assurance from your tongue, Gon feels absolutely loved.

• He loves your whole being so much, he'll absolutely cherish every moment with you.

• His favorite thing about you isss I would say.. Your emotions, probably. Your emotions are his kinda! Seeing you down, he's also down. Seeing you happy brings a bright smile to his face, and he'll relish every happy moment with you.

• Gon will always and never forget to say a reminder that he'll forever love you to his heart's content. He'll never fail to voice his feelings, why would he? He knows you love him as well, and the affection he has for you is immeasurable.

༉‧₊˚. Kurapika Kurta !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Ouu this guy.. He irritates me to no end.

• He is SO quiet with his feelings and he's so naturally distant, naturally you'd also distance yourself from him.

• Why would you even try?! Clearly, he's "uninterested" And wants to keep things casual. Of course, this pains you because you really want to take things higher.

• Months passed, he started growing busy with his job as a Bounty Hunter. You thought you could use this as an opportunity to move on!

• But y'know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder.

• Both sides missed each other dearly, with no one to chat with and share their inner feelings, yn soon grows lonely.

• With no one to listen to and have no company of the one he trusts the most, Kurapika grew regretful.

• When they both met again, Kurapika didn't hesitate to cup your hands ever so gently with a look of subtle desperation in his eyes.

• "yn.." He softly calls, his voice was like a thousand melodies that sang only for your ears to hear. His expression was so very vulnerable, it made you love him more.

• "I'm so sorry." He apologizes, removing his hands from yours and gently pulling you into a hug, placing a firm yet soft hand on your scalp and having an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

• Everything escalated from there, and in a hypothetical situation, you became a Bounty Hunter too! ( if you had no plans for the other Hunter titles )

• His favorite activities to do with you is to lounge around, read a book with your fingers intertwined and have you leaning on him for support.

• With you, Kurapika believes he can achieve the life he wants. After gathering the scarlet eyes of his clan.

• Kurapika's loyalty lies with you and no one else, rest assured. He can forever guarantee your safety if you're with him.

• Similarly to Killua, Kurapika isn't vocal about his affection. But he would whisper a soft "I love you." And a "I'm sorry I can't be there for you."

• Kurapika is known to be really distant, so you have to be patient with him. And he loves you so dearly. Imagine loving someone so hard to love? Kurapika believes he was truly blessed to have a significant other like you.

• His favorite thing about you is your voice, no doubt. He can listen to your emotions even when he has his eyes closed.

• Kurapika isn't one to trust easily, so seeing him close his eyes to listen to you?? It's an achievement. He's basically lowering his guard and trusting you with his life in a literal sense!

• Additionally, he loves watching you do your hobbies. The way your lips form into a smile filled with purity, the complete opposite of what he does. The way your laugh sounds like an elegant butterfly garden– it was a weird way to explain it. But in other words; ethereal.

• You'll forever, and I mean EVER be the love of his life, the light of his life, his everything. He'll sacrifice a lot for you, and that's a given.

⊹₊⋆ Leorio Paradinight !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Ah, yes. This man.

• Low-key? Not in his vocabulary. He likes you? Oh it's painfully obvious– well I mean it's not like he's trying to hide it, really..

• It's amazing how you two clicked! Leorio with his very odd-feminist tendencies is... Eh.

• But hey! You two worked it up in the end, and he's madly in love with you. That's great, really!

• Leorio LOVES to flaunt you off. "Look at them! My gorgeous soul mate!" He exclaims with heart eyes, leaving you baffled at his volume and growing embarrassed at the amount of looks you're getting.

• Yeah! He always says an exaggerated "I love you!" In many instances, Leorio will alwayssss give you a lil smooch somewhere on the face.

• Honestly, Leorio isn't ashamed at all. Why would he? He'll freely show his affection to the one he views his soul mate– someone who is destined to be bound to each other.

• Despite Leorio's reputation, he's quite a gentleman. He's willing to sacrifice a lot of his time for you, and mind you– time is crucial for medic students.

• He respects your boundaries more than anyone else's. If he accidentally crosses the line with one of them, he'll give a genuine apology and makes it clear that those weren't his intentions at all.

• Leorio's favorite activity to do with you varies– he lovesss taking you out on small lil dates, like library dates to just sit in silence and bask in each other's presence, or an extraordinary one where he'll take you to a club and have fun.

• He ends up passing out drunk leaving you to take care of him and listen to his endless complaints the next morning– but he repays you by being extra nicer the next day.

• His favorite thing about you would be– well, your torso. NOT IN THAT WAY.

• It's simply his favorite because he can easily snake his arms around you despite your size.

• He's.. Well, clingy. He loves lovesss having his hands around you. He refuses to keep his hands to himself if you're around.

• But all in all, Leorio's a great person. He's willing to drop everything he has to heal you if you're in pain or try to find something for you. He's that committed, I promise.

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !

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nickgurl4life · 17 hours ago

Text

SOFT!MATT × DOLL!READER FIRST TIME~

Content!Warning: movie night, doll!reader tells soft!matt that she's ready for sex, kissing, nipple sucking, lots of consent, some dry humping, oral(fem receives), praises, p in v, protected sex(wrap it up!), hand holding, aftercare~

Summary: Doll!reader finally feels she is ready for sex and decides to tell soft!matt~

A/N: Hi loveys! Sorry I haven't posted a fic in a bit. I'm struggling with mental health, but here's one that I have wanted to dry doing for a bit, and I hope you like it! Also, dividers from @bernardsbendystraws 🤗 NOT PROOFREAD!

INSPO: @bernardsbendystraws

Today was the day you solved the ache between you legs, today was the day you finally told your boyfriend you're ready for sex. Were you ready? Yes, you were, but were you nervous? Fuck yes, you're shaking so badly as you walk through the hallway that you look like your vibrating. As you arrive at your boyfriends bedroom door, you enter and smile as you see he's at his gaming set up playing Fortnite with some friends. He doesn't notice you till he feels your hands grip his shoulders from behind, gently kneading them and massaging them. "Mmm...hey baby, how was your shower?" He asks as he practically melts under your touch.

"It was good, but hey, when you're done on the game, can we...uhm...can we talk?" You ask as the nervousness you thought went away starts flooding you from head to toe. What if he says no? What if he never wanted that with you? What if you sounded like a idiot when you asked? As you keep overthinking, you're snapped out of it by his words, "How about now I was gonna get off the game when you finished in the shower anyways, doll" he says softly as he turns off his computer. Great, so now you have to ask sooner, you think to yourself. "Well... I guess we can talk now, so..." You say in a hushed tone as you climb on the bed, Matt doing the same.

"So what'd you wanna talk about, doll?" He says with a soft grin, and that's when you go silent. You're panicking on the inside and calm on the outside, but he can tell. "Hey, hey, what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?" He asks as he gently grabs your hand. "I- i- uhm- I-" You struggle to even form words till all of a sudden you spit out, "I'm ready, and I wanna have sex!" You say in a hurried tone, and then you peak up to look at Matt's surprised expression. "Oh honey, why didn't you just tell me?" He chuckles as he kisses your cheek. "Wait...y-your not upset?" You ask softly as a small smile subconsciously grows on your red face. "Baby, why the hell would I be mad that you were ready for sex?" He asks with a small chuckle. "Are you sure you want to do it now thou-" before he can finish speaking your cutting him off with a quick, "Yes! Yes, I do!" Which pulls a laugh out of him.

"Okay, okay, so we already know the kissing and making out part, so let's just start with that doll." Matt says and gently pulls you into a soft kiss. His chapped lips grazing your soft ones, "You need some chapstick," you murmur on his lips, making both of you chuckle as the kiss grows more hungry. "Mmm, when I'm done, my lips will be softer than satin sweetheart," he says and slowly pushes you down to lay flat on your back. His legs straddle your hips as he moves to kiss down your neck, "Just tell me what feels good..." he whispers as he sucks on your pulse point, evicting a soft moan from your parted lips. His hips gently grind down on yours, his growing erection on your thigh. You feel yourself growing wetter and wetter from his kisses and soft praises.

Your pulled from your thoughts at the feeling of pressure on your core, you look down to see Matt's hand rubbing gentle circles over your white lacy panties that are showing from your baby pink dress riding up. "M-matt, fuck..." you moan softly, arching into his touch as your hips subconsciously roll closer. "Aww, does that feel good, baby?" He coos as he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Can I take this off, baby?" He asks as he tugs at the hem of your dress. When you nod, he slips it over your head. "Aww, look at this cute little bra...so pretty just f'me~" he coos as he leans down, pressing kisses to your nipples through the lacy fabric. The feeling makes you jerk, having never been toyed and touched with in such an intimate spot before.

After a bit of teasing, he unbuckles your bra and tosses it to the floor, staring at your swollen puffy nipples. Before you can even react, he's leaning down and taking one into his warm mouth, sucking on them like a baby nursing. "Matt- s-sensitive-" You whimper, he doesn't stop, but he slows down. "Shh..." he moves to suck the other nipple as he free hand pulls and gently twists the other between his fingers, rolling it softly. "M-matt, oh my god, feels good -" You moan as you arch closer. He pulls off and scoots back up to kiss you, spreading your legs and pressing gentle kissing on your neck, down to your stomach, then your thighs, then a final peck on your clit through your panties. "Okay baby, I'm gonna eat you out, okay? So I'm gonna need you to relax, and if you need to, you can tug my hair, okay, sweetheart?" He reassures you as he gentle loops his fingers under the waistband of your panties, gentle tugging them down till down they are on the floor. "Okay are your ready baby?" He asks as he spreads your legs. "Y-yeah, yeah I'm ready..." you say softly as you look down at his face. "W-whats wrong?" You ask as you see he's frozen, looking at your soaking wet pussy in awe.

"Nothing, just...fuck-" he says shakily as he leans in to lick a stripe up your folds. "God you taste like heaven-" You don't get a chance to talk before he's diving in, licking, slurping, and sucking your pussy. "Matt holy fuck!" You cry out as your sensitive pussy contracts and squeezes around nothing at the sensational feeling of Matt's warm tongue applying pressure to your bundle of nerves. "Matt oh my g-god that feels so fucking g-good!" You moan, gripping his hair and rolling your pussy onto him, not knowing where this spark of confidence came from. "Y-yes yes baby just like t-that-" You moan as he keeps going, picking up the pace as he feels your legs start to shake. "M-matt I'm g-gonna-" You cry out, almost blacking out at the insane feeling as you cum hard on his face. As he pulls away, he chuckles, "sorry I uh- you tasted so good and I kind of forgot your a virgin-" he says with a chuckle as he sits up, crawling up to you and kissing your head.

"That felt, fucking awesome~" you say with a chuckle as he gets off the bed, slipping his clothes off so he's naked as well. "Wait, do I have to -" You point to your mouth, then his erection as it's now sprung up to his stomach. "No, no no we can practice that another time, right now this is all about you doll" he says as he grabs a condom from the drawer, opening it and rolling it onto his thick length. "Matt...is it gonna hurt?" You ask with soft doe eyes, making his heart twist. "It might hurt a bit but you can hold my hand, okay?" He reassures you as he rubs his length along your folds and patting it with your clit, getting it wet with your juices before positioning at your entrance. "You ready?" He asks as he intertwines his hands with yours, when you nod he sighs. "I need words sweetheart~" he says softly. "Yeah...I'm ready" you say with a smile as he nods, slowly sliding in. Your mouth falls agape at the burn and stretch. You whimper and matt immediately slows down to a stop.

"Hey, you good?" He asks, his eyes flooding with concern. "Yeah..just burns" You say as your eyes flutter, after a bit of adjusting you give him a nod and he starts to slowly move back and forth. "O-oh my god..." you whisper as the pain slowly turns to pleasure. "Fuck you feel so fucking good..." Matt says as he throws his head back, "doing so good f'me sweetheart, so s-so good f'me..." he praises as he goes faster. "Matt fuck im so close already-" You moan, "yeah me too doll, wanna cum with me?" He asks as his hips stutter. When you nod he speeds up..."3...2...fuck- 1- cum with md baby come on-" he says and as if on command you release all over him, he holds himself back to help you ride it out, what sends him over the edge is a feeling of a liquid squirt all over him. "Oh my- fuck!" He groans as he releases inside the condom. "Baby fuck you squirted!" He chuckles as he slows to a stop. "I- I did?" You say as a smile grows on your flushed face.

"Are you sure I didn't just pee?" You ask shakily, but the stupid grin on his face and the really clear liquid on his lower torso and thighs shows otherwise. "Oh my god- i-i did!" You giggle, and he nods. "You squirted your first time...okay but anyways I'm gonna pull out now okay?" As soon as you nod he slowly eases out. "I feel so empty..." you say softly as he slips the condom off and throws it in the small trash bin by the nightstand. He walks to the bathroom and comes back with a damp washcloth. "Open your legs baby" he coos softly as he wipes up the mess between your legs. Once he's done he cleans himself off then tosses the dirty cloth into the laundry hamper. "Do we want to shower now or just cuddle?" He asks as he stares down at you. "Uh...cuddle...maybe a nap?" You smile and he pulls a giggle from you as he jumps onto you, curling close and draping the covers over you. "Don't have to tell me twice about a nap!" He says happily.

"So you promise I didn't hurt you?" He says as he kisses your head. "I promise I'm fine baby...if you hurt me I would've told you~" you murmur as you nuzzle into his chest. "Well, next time we have it if you want to practice a blow job on me or even a hand job I'll let you okay?" He says as he wraps his arms around you. "Okay...I love you Matt." You murmur sleepily and he smiles, "I love you too doll, now go to sleep and we can shower when you wake up-" as he finishes talking he snickers as he notices your already dead asleep. "Sleepy head...I tired you out huh?" He says softly as he does off as well.

I HOPES YOU GUYS LIKE THIS!!! IT TOOK ME A BIT BUT 🥰

Taglist: @chris-hallelujah @cupiidk1lls @loud-sturniolos @p14th0mps0n @3xclus1vel0v3r @chrislilcumslvt @heartz4matt @jassturn @bilssturns @goingtojohnkramershouseee @chrisfavoritewhore @matthewsroses @nategurl3

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo fluff

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 19 hours ago

Note

Hi I really love your writing! Not sure if you are taking any prompts, no worries if not!

I was wondering if you could something with Melissa x reader similar to Janine and Gregory where they both work at the school and maybe the reader is dating someone but they have a moment like the club scene or PECSA weekend.

Hope you're having a good day lovely human!

Not dead! Nor have I given up on writing or filling the prompts I still have to fill! But a weird thing did happen - I went to a hypnotist show with friends thinking I wouldn't be affected... Long story short, I remember the first fifteen minutes of the show. Apparently, I was in the show for the rest of it. So that was a thing. But that's not the weird thing. The hypnotist said that a side effect of his hypnosis is often a better ability to focus, a quieter mind and less anxious thoughts. I have to hand it to the man, his words seem to be true. An unexpected side effect of this for me though is that it turns out the noise and chatter in my mind actually helps me write my fics. Now it's all a bit quiet in there and it's been hard to get the words out. But, that doesn't mean I don't still love writing - so we're pushing through.

I do have a confession though - this story has two prompts noted at the top of it in my drafts and although I can't find any evidence that I've posted it under either prompt, if I have already posted this and somehow have missed it, please let me know and I shall take the duplicate down.

Anyway, enough about me. Enough rambling. I hope you enjoy!

*~*

It would be easier if she wasn’t nice to you.

If she wasn’t nice to you, she could just be the untouchable, hot as hell, fiery goddess you admired from afar.

But no. She let you sit with her and Barb at lunch. She even brought you lunch after a few conversations had strayed into discussing cooking and favourite recipes during said lunch breaks.

How were you meant to get over your ridiculous crush when she actually gave you the time of day? When she smiled like that? When her whole face lit up and she gestured so animatedly when she got caught up talking about something?

And as if that wasn’t enough, how were you ever meant to recover after seeing her so soft with her students? Going out of her way to open up to them and help them.

It was ridiculous, though. You knew that. What good was ever going to come of it?

Kid. That’s what she calls you. It’s a constant reminder of the age gap between you. Of the chasm that you feel you can’t even begin to cross when she sees you as some eager little kid.

You’ve always had a thing for older women. From those early, confused days of watching your on-screen idols, to realising you didn’t want to be them. You didn’t want to be friends with them. You just wanted them.

You want one in particular, but as you look across at her, her red hair ablaze in the sunshine, you force those feelings down once more. If friendship is what she’s offering you’re not about to beat her with that olive branch. You’ll deem yourself lucky and move on.

Even if she has ruined you for anyone else.

*~*

“You know,” drawled Barbara. “It’s beginning to become a habit.”

“What is?” asked Melissa, turning to face her friend with a frown.

“Staring at her,” said the older woman, eyebrow raised.

The red head scoffs. “As if. I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but that ain’t it.”

It was all said in jest to begin with. Gentle teasing about a few wayward glances. That was until Barb started to see her best friend be genuinely nice to you.

To begin with, she tolerated you. You weren’t one of the eager little puppies she so often saw when it came to younger new hires. That much was evident from the start. You were an old soul. You carried a different energy.

One that Melissa apparently appreciated just as much as the view. Barb stood beside her the red head as they watched over the kids leaving school, keeping an eye on the them as they left for the day, making their way to busses, rides or parents. Or rather, Barb was keeping watch over the children. A quick glance at Melissa confirmed that her attention was directed at you where you stood a little way off, chatting happily with a young girl about the book she was waving at you as she waited for her mother to collect her.

“Girl…”

“Don’t,” sighed Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest.

That took Barb by surprise. She had expected the red head to deny it. “You mean?”

“It’s stupid. She’s some pretty young thing and I’m…older than I care to admit.”

Turning to look at her friend, her expression sad, the older woman reached out and placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm. “And? What’s it called? A Spring, Winter romance?”

“May, December,” corrected Melissa automatically. “But same thing.”

“Exactly” said Barb. “There’s a name for it and everything. It’s a thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” huffed the red head, turning on her heel and heading back into the building. “It’s stupid and I’ll get over it, just like I do everything else in my life.”

*~*

You’re not sure you’re entirely on board for PECSA.

Out of school, things are different. Lines are blurred and you’re seeing a whole different side to your colleagues. You’re not sure if it’s liberating or terrifying. And that’s before you add in the factor of the other teachers who have also been set free from the constraints of the classroom and are now loose in the wild.

You’re sure your confusion must show on your face, particularly when at the end of one of the breakout sessions you find yourself caught up in conversation with a striking older woman who teaches at another school across town.

You don’t see Melissa at first, who watches the interaction with interest. She’s not used to seeing you outside of school, and it takes her back to realise that the woman is flirting with you. Openly and blatantly flirting with you. She’s touching your arm, leaning into you. Smiling and laughing.

In return, you know you’re blushing something terrible, especially when the woman hands you a page from her notebook with her number scrawled across it. Watching the woman walk away, throwing you a smile over her shoulder to you, you finally see the red head standing in the doorway where she said she’d meet you so you could head for lunch together.

“She not a bit old for you?” she asks as you approach, your blush still heating your cheeks.

You frown. “If she looks like that and thinks I’m hot enough to give me her number, they’re the numbers I’m interested in,” you reply, heading in the direction of the lunch buffet.

Barb overhears the comment, unable not to smirk at your flash of sass. “Jealous?” she asks, leaning into the red head’s space.

“Of what?” barks Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you go. “Oh leave off!” she snarks at the older woman’s raised eyebrow.

How the day has gone from serious talks and breakout sessions to cocktails by the pool you’re still trying to wrap your head around. Adjusting your cover up, you head around the side of the pool, heading for the bar. You hope the day starts to feel a little bit more normal with a drink in your hand.

Gazing out over the water, you catch sight of Melissa. Or rather, you catch sight of a lot more of Melissa than you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing before. Not looking where you’re walking as your eyes drink in the magnificent view there’s no saving yourself as you step forward and your foot finds water instead of concrete.

“Is that?” Melissa asks incredulously at the dramatic splash that comes from the other side of the pool. She’s up out of her lounger before Barb can comment and the older teacher can only watch on in amusement as the red head storms off in your direction.

You pull yourself out of the pool, allowing yourself to perch on the edge as you try your best to ignore the chuckles of those around you who have noticed your mishap.

“What the fuck happened?”

You look up and of course Melissa is there. Right there, lit up in the sun like an angel, red hair haloed around her head. It takes a moment to realise that her eyes are roving over you, and not just your face. You glance down where your cover up now clings to your skin, almost see through.

Looking up you see Melissa blink rapidly a few times before offering you a hand. You reach for her, smiling as she helps pull you to your feet. “Thanks,” you smile sheepishly. “I guess I should go change.”

“It’s a pool, you’re allowed to be a little wet,” the red head smirks back at you. “Besides, we’re this close to the bar now, be rude not to take advantage.”

Melissa appears at the bar next to you with a huff, grumbling under her breath. Her attention is focused on trying to get the attention of the barman. Mumbling though she is, she’s speaking just loud enough for you to make out what she was saying.

“He was an ass,” you tell her, watching as her head whipped around, finally realising you were there.

“What?” she asks with a frown, already tipsy.

“Your ex,” you enlighten her. You may not have heard the comment that led to her current dip in mood, or ever have met the man, but you know enough.

Her frown only deepens. “You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I know he didn’t appreciate what he had and left you,” you offer, ordering a drink when the barman appears in front of you, before turning back to Melissa to ask what she wants. You find her looking at you oddly, her expression unreadable. She quickly snaps out of it and barks and order at the bartender.

Barb has had more than a few drinks, it would appear as she flags you down to sit with her as you pass her table.

“Sit, sit,” she smiles, trying to reach for your arm and push the chair out next to her at the same time in an uncoordinated matter.

Catching her hands, you still her as you slide into the seat beside her to placate her. Her gaze is a little unfocused, her words edging towards slurred. You hadn’t quite realised how drunk she was, but then again, looking around the room, it would have been more of a surprise for her to be sober.

“Don’t call that woman,” she tells you, leaning into your space.

“What woman?” you frown.

“That woman who gave you her number,” says Barbara like it’s obvious.

You try not to think about the fact that for Barb to know, Melissa must have mentioned it. That it’s been on her mind enough to mention it to the older woman. “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“She gave me her number,” you point out. “I don’t think she would mind.”

Barb shakes her head. “Not her. Her,” she says, nodding across the room to where Melissa is standing.

You cross your arms across your chest. “What has Melissa got to do with anything?”

Barb raises a single eyebrow, the action still smooth and effective despite her drunkenness and it makes you blush.

Averting your gaze, you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” you sigh. “She’s not…She thinks I’m some stupid kid.”

What you don’t see, is Melissa standing close enough behind your chair to catch your words.

Somewhere after speaking to Barb you decide that trying to be the sober parent of your little Abbott family just isn’t working. You’ve lost track of most of them, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to find them. They’re all adults and can fend for themselves.

You still have eyes on Barb and Melissa though, the former dancing up a storm and the latter apparently winning an ill-advised drinking competition.

Not that you can judge, of course. You know you’ve drunk more than you should, feeling pleasantly buzzed from your seat in the corner of the bar. You should call it a night before you do something you’ll regret, like call the woman Barbara told you not to. Sober, you wouldn’t. Drunk, you’re flattered enough and wouldn’t say no to the company.

With a sigh, you push yourself up out of your seat and head towards the elevators. Pushing the button, you watch the numbers light up as the lift descends. You squeak in surprise when a strong pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around as a plump pair of lips meet you own.

“I don’t think you’re some stupid kid.”

You blink slowly a few times, taking in the woman before you. Melissa. Melissa Schemmenti just kissed you. You shouldn’t, but you don’t have it in you to deny yourself the pleasure of feeling her lips against yours once more. You kiss her back with enthusiasm, not protesting when she backs you into the elevator as it opens and moaning as your back hits the wall of the small metallic box, the weight of Melissa pressed against you.

You’ve always admired her curves. Pressed against you they’re a dream.

The clearing of a throat far to close snaps you out of your living dream and you feel Melissa take a step back, biting her lip as she guiltily throws a glance over her shoulder, registering Barb standing in the elevator, her back to you both as if she hasn’t just witnessed exactly what you were both doing.

Standing close, you grin at the devious smirk being aimed your way by a certain red head. There’s a dangerous glimmer of mischief in her eyes. Smudged lipstick and mussed hair from where you hands couldn’t help but run thought it complete the look. The woman is a work of art.

You look up as the elevator doors chime open, realising this is your floor. Stepping forward, you slip past Barb, who merely raises an eyebrow. You throw a look back at Melissa, who sways forward as though to follow you, before hesitating.

The doors slide shut, and honestly, it’s probably for the best.

You miss the dark chuckle Barb lets out as the lift begins to ascend once more.

“What you laughing at?” asks Melissa, scowling. She’s annoyed with herself for hesitating. She knows what she wants, and she just let it walk out of the elevator.

“You two think you’re subtle?” the older woman drawls. “She has more of your lipstick on than you do.”

If PECSA was party central the night before, it was hangover central the morning after. You’re sitting outside on the low wall, sunglasses firmly in place, your phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as you take in the cool morning air.

“You regret what happened last night?”

You turn to see Melissa, similarly attired. “What?”

She comes to stand beside the wall on which you’re sat, her gaze wandering anywhere but you as she speaks. “I came to your room last night. You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you,” you admit, watching as her head whips around. “Too busy throwing up everything I ever drank.” You feel the blush dusting your cheeks, but continue. This feels too important to let a little embarrassment stop you. You take off your sunglasses so she can see your face as you speak, “I have many regrets about my choices last night, but what happened in the elevator isn’t one of them.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips as she shifts to take a seat next to you. She slips her own sunglasses off, finally letting you see her eyes. “Good to know,” she murmurs. “Me neither.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You notice her gaze wandering and realise she staring at the phone still clutched in your hand.

“You planning on using that number you were so interested in yesterday?”

“Honestly?” you ask, seeing the uncertainty in her face as she nods regardless. “That woman was hot, and while I was more than a little flattered she gave me her number…she isn’t a patch on you.”

Pale cheeks blush adorably pink at your words. Melissa isn’t used to hearing things like what from you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you scoff, nudging her shoulder. “You’ve seen yourself in a mirror, right? And you needn’t think I go falling in pools over every pretty woman I see.”

“I really distracted you that badly, huh?” she asks, a little of her confidence returning.

You bump her shoulder with yours once more. “Shut up.”

A gentle hand moves to cup your cheek, turning you to face her as Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “For the record,” she says quietly. “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid. I think you’re beautiful.”

You take in a shuddering breath. It all feels too good to be true. “What happens at PECSA stays at PECSA?” you ask sadly.

“I’ve never been one for playing by the rules,” she smirks back at you, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before pushing herself to her feet and offering a hand to you. “Come on, we gotta go find Barb. Reunite her with her shoes, sobriety and sanity.”

You take the hand being offered like a lifeline, grinning as Melissa starts walking, swinging your joined hands between you. It’s only as you pass through the front doors to the building that her words even register. “Wait? Her shoes?”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #melissa x reader #abbott elementary

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queenburd · 17 hours ago

Text

I write this post with the caveat that I was into TSP and TSPUD before discovering Cl0ck 0ut and I never joined any servers around it, so the impact to me is extremely minimal compared to many others who were heavily inspired by it. I recognize that while it's sickening to me, it's even harder for the people who joined the TSP fandom because of Cl0ck 0ut.

I'm also extremely on the fringes of the fandom in general, I've never gone out of my way to interact with people who are more well-known for their narrator designs. I don't know that this post is going to reach its intended audience that much.

With all that aside, I really want to tell the people who are extremely hurt and reeling and sick to their stomach something that I think is pretty important:

You may have been introduced to TSP from watching Cl0ck 0ut, and it may have inspired you, but it is not the thing that kept you here interested in the game. You're in this fandom because you found like-minded people, maybe through the animation sure, and continued to make connections beyond that surface-level one.

Look, I've been here before. I'm not old, but I'm in my late twenties now and I've been in fandom circles for nearly 2 decades. There were inevitably times where the fanbase learned bad things about the creator, or a specific "big time" fan whose works they liked. It does suck, it does hurt, you're more than allowed to feel betrayed and sick and stressed.

A lot of what got me through it was having other people to talk to, who understood because they were also going through it. They understood because they were in that same fandom with me, we had met through it. The thing that mattered was that I had friends I had made beyond a superficial initial connection.

You made bonds. You created things (headcanons, art, stories, theories) with other people, and you still enjoyed the initial thing, yeah, but you enjoy it more because of the extra layers of connection that it led you to! But remember, please remember, that while it was a jumping off point, and you might attach a lot of value to it for that, it didn't do the work. You and other people did that. And that's the real valuable thing. That doesn't have to be stained with the bad feelings, I promise. It can and has evolved past the initial connection.

It's gonna sting for a while. That's understandable. If you need to take a break from creating, no one can blame you. But keep your connections with other people. Keep your friends.

(And if you made things that were directly inspired by Cl0ck 0ut designs or initial story, I can understand if you're feeling extremely uncomfortable with making more of it. I have a couple fanfics I was reading that were based off it.

At the end of the day, do what makes you most comfortable, even if that includes putting it down and never picaking it up again; but know that people liked what you were making, again, not because it was Cl0ck 0ut based, but because you were doing interesting and unique things with the premise. That's what fandom does with any media, and the story you were crafting does not, I think, need to be wholly discarded despite its premise having...'issues'.)

#tsp fandom #im sorry to put this in the main tag i feel so! oof. about that.#the stanley parable #those are the only main tags i'll pop it in #sincerely: a person who has been into invader ZIM and Good Omens for like 15+ years #the THINGS i have seen good christ.#the things on deviantart and on ff.net. i wasnt even a livejournal kid and i saw it #this is not a new thing and you will get through it.#and you can talk to me! im not sure why youd want to talk to me. but.#there are people who are here and have seen these things before and will support you.

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sequinsmile-x · 3 days ago

Text

Thankful

Aaron invites Emily to Thanksgiving, and things change between them forever.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This years Thanksgiving fic is a little earlier this year because Thanksgiving is the SGW anniversary so I am posting chapter 80 on Thursday to mark it!!

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate, and if you're about to have a really hard couple of days with family I am holding more space for you than queer Twitter is for the lyrics of defying gravity.

Here's a little getting together fic for you all, and as always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 3.6k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron groans and drops his pen to his desk, his fingers pressed into his temples as he looks back and forth between his completed pile of paperwork and what he has left to do. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the headache he can feel building behind his eyes, and he blows out a breath.

“Coffee,” he mumbles to himself as he stands up and grabs his mug. He smiles and nods at Derek as he steps out of his office, and he walks past Emily and JJ’s empty desks. He spots them standing in the kitchenette, both of their backs turned to him, and he’s about to call out and make them aware he’s there, but he comes to a stop when he hears their conversation.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to ours for Thanksgiving? Henry would love it, and Will makes enough food to feed the whole street anyway.”

Emily shakes her head, “It’s okay, I promise,” she replies, “I’m going to my mother’s. Part of my attempt to make good with her again after the whole faking my death thing.”

Aaron doesn’t have to see her face to know it’s a lie. Her relationship with her mother was still tense, at best, and he knew they barely spoke to each other. He’d offered to be a buffer of some sort, to go with her to see her mother - something he saw as his responsibility since her fake death had been his decision - but she’d turned him down. Her smile soft and appreciative as she told him she wouldn’t want to put him through that, her hand on his arm as he sucked in a breath and pretended that a simple touch from her combined with the smell of her perfume didn’t have him under her spell.

He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with her. It had snuck up on him, his feelings for her shifting from mistrust to friendship to more so slowly that it felt as natural to him as breathing. His love for her so much a part of him he didn’t know what he’d be without it anymore. He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with her, but he remembered when he realised. A familiar pit in his stomach as he stood over her grave that he’d felt at Haley’s funeral, the same suit heavy on his shoulders as he threw a rose on top of her empty coffin - the only flower he’d ever given her.

He told himself when she was in Paris that he’d do whatever was necessary to bring her home, that one day he’d get a chance to tell her that he loved her. Or at the very least, ask her out on a date. The reality of her return was different. She was a shell of herself, lost in the ruins of who she had once been - a feeling he was all too familiar with - and he knew there was very little she could take on top of the day-to-day of figuring out who she was now. He did his best to be there for her in the way that she’d let him, his support silent at first. Eventually, he knew he had to say something, worried that he’d lose her entirely if he didn’t, and they came to their agreement that she’d tell him when she had a bad day.

It had restarted whatever closeness they’d had before Doyle. She would spend evenings and her Saturdays with him and Jack. She’d sit on the sidelines of the little boy’s soccer games and cheer for him, her smile as close to hers as Aaron had seen it since just before everything went to hell. Any thought or attempt at telling her how he felt about her had taken a backseat, and he knew that he’d simply be her friend forever if that’s what she needed from him.

He clears his throat, feeling bad for eavesdropping, and they both turn to look at him, Emily’s smile slightly mischievous, “Sorry, Hotch.”

He suppresses a smile and reaches behind her to grab the coffee pot, “That’s okay, Prentiss.”

Outside of work, they only ever called each other by their first name, but they made a point of using surnames at work. They’d exchange a smirk as they did so and it had become a joke of sorts between them.

JJ scoffs and rolls her eyes at them, “Everyone knows you’re friends, you know,” she says, smiling before she turns to leave, throwing another comment over her shoulder as she walks away, “It’s okay if you guys call each other by your first names in front of the rest of us from time to time.”

Emily chuckles and shakes her head at JJ as she walks away, “We’ve been rumbled.”

He hums as he puts the coffee pot back down, “Speaking of being rumbled…” he starts, and she raises her eyebrow at him in response, “You’re spending Thanksgiving at your mother’s?”

She scrunches her nose up at him, “You heard that?”

“I did,” he says, hiding his smile behind his mug, “You didn’t want to go to JJ’s?”

She blows out a breath and looks around, making sure they are still alone, and she shrugs as she looks back at him, “This might sound awful, but I’m not sure I want to spend the day with them being an adorable happy family.”

“That doesn’t sound awful,” he assures her, “Sometimes the holidays just remind us…”

“Of what we don’t have,” she finishes for him before she sighs and smiles sadly “So I will be perfectly happy eating an entire pan of homemade mac and cheese to myself and hanging out with Sergio.”

Later, he’d wonder why he says what he says next. He isn’t sure if it’s the sadness she’s trying to hide from him, his love for her, or the thought of her spending a holiday alone, or even a combination of all three, but he finds himself talking before he really thinks about it.

“You could come over and spend the day with us if you’d like.”

She shakes her head, already ready to argue with him, “Oh, I couldn’t intrude.”

“It’s not intruding if I invite you,” he says, “Plus, I can promise no happy families. It’s me, Jack, Jess and her and Haley’s dad Roy who does not like me,” he smiles in a way he usually wouldn’t in the office, drawn in by her and the surprised laugh she breathes out, “So if anything, you’d be doing me a favour.”

She presses her lips together and looks at him curiously, and for a moment he’s sure she’s going to turn him down, but instead, she nods, her lips pressed together as she clears her throat, “Okay. That…that sounds nice. I’ll be here.”

“Good,” he says, trying to tamper down his excitement, “Jack will be so excited - we all know you’re his favourite person.”

She smiles, “Need me to bring anything?”

“Maybe that homemade mac and cheese you were talking about?”

She nods, “Okay,” she smiles at him, her lips pressed together as if she is holding something back, and then she clears her throat again, “I should go do some work.”

He nods, “I hear your boss is a bit of a tyrant.”

She chuckles and shrugs, throwing him a wink before she walks away, “He’s not all bad.”

___

She almost turns around and goes home.

She finds herself standing on his doorstep, a casserole dish full of Mac and Cheese balancing on one of her hands and a bottle of wine tucked up under her arm, wondering why she’d agreed to this. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend the day with Aaron and Jack, it was her favourite thing to do, but spending Thanksgiving with them, a day for families and spending time with those you love, was enough to make her ache.

She loved them in a way she wasn’t sure she had a right to.

She’d loved Jack the moment she met him. He was adorable and cranky in Haley’s arms as she walked into the office looking for Aaron, his cries at least in part coming from him picking up on his mother’s bad mood. Emily offered to take Jack for a few minutes when Haley tried to pretend she wasn’t furious as she looked up at Aaron’s office, and she’d been slightly surprised when she took her up on it. She’d sat at her desk for a few minutes with Jack in her lap and it was enough time for her to be completely charmed by him. Her love for him had grown with her relationship with him, and he was without a doubt one of the most important people in her life. Happiness and joy all rolled up into the smile of a 6-year-old boy who had already survived so much more than he should have.

Her love for Aaron was different. It had come out of nowhere, hit her like a truck as she stepped into his apartment and found him missing and his blood on the carpet. It was something she’d shoved down, something she’d pretended wasn’t there, and she’d been there for him as his world fell apart around him. There were times when she thought he might feel the same way too, fleeting moments when their eyes would meet and maybe felt as close to definitely as it ever had. Then Doyle happened. Tearing her sense of self apart for a second time, and she was glad there was nothing more between her and Aaron that would have put him in danger.

Since she came home they’d become closer again, any initial awkwardness gone as quickly as it had appeared, and sometimes she’d find him looking at him like he used to again. She wanted more with him, with him and Jack - to be part of an actual family for the first time in her life - but she wasn’t sure she was enough for them anymore.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get back to the Emily that Aaron may have once loved.

She’s drawn out of herself when the door to the apartment is torn open, and she looks up to meet Aaron’s eyes. A smile on his face that only seemed to exist in the confines of his home, a soft side of him that belongs to his son that he would let her see too.

“Hi,” he says, taking the casserole dish from her, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

She chuckles, “Happy Thanksgiving,” she tilts her head at him curiously, “How did you know I was out here? I didn’t knock.”

He steps back to let her into the apartment, “I saw you standing out here. I knew if I let you think about it any longer you’d leave.”

She presses her lips together and nods, “Sometimes I worry you know me a little too well.”

He laughs and puts the mac and cheese down on the kitchen counter, “I don’t think that’s possible,” he smiles over at Jessica who is standing in the kitchen and cooking, “Jess, you remember Emily.”

Jessica nods, “Happy Thanksgiving, Emily.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she says, “Everything smells amazing.”

Jack interrupts them before they can say anything else. He runs down the hall from his bedroom, throwing himself into Emily’s arms, “Emmy!”

“Hi Jack,” she says, hugging him close as she kisses his forehead before she pulls back, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too,” he smiles, “I was just showing Grandpa the train set you got me for my birthday.”

Emily looks up and smiles at a man she’d only seen briefly once before at his daughter’s funeral. She didn’t have to be good at what she did to see the way Roy looks at her, followed by the way he looks at Aaron. Distrust and a hint of anger in his eyes that feels misplaced. It makes her shackles rise, her grip on Jack in her arms tightening as she slips on a mask she’d had for as long as she could remember. One that had grown with her since she was the same age as the little boy in her arms.

She paints on a smile and adjusts her hold on Jack, holding one hand out to Roy for him to shake, “Nice to meet you, Mr Brooks.”

He hums and looks down at her hand before he steps past her to get a drink from the kitchen, “You’re Aaron’s friend.”

She narrows her eyes as he turns his back and then she catches Aaron’s gaze, sees the I told you he hates me shining in his eyes, and she clears her throat, ready to protect the man she loves from anything, even his ex-father-in-law.

“Yes,” she says, her smile as polite as it could be, “I am.”

___

Dinner is hard work.

She has to stop herself from interjecting each time Roy says something passive-aggressive, or occasionally downright aggressive, to Aaron. The only things that stop her are the fact that Jack is in the room and that she’s sure Aaron wouldn’t appreciate her inserting herself into complicated family affairs.

By the time Jessica and Roy leave, she can’t help but wonder how such a horrid man had raised two such wonderful women. It feels unkind, especially when she acknowledges what he has lost, but it sticks in her mind. How he’s so obviously lost in his own grief that he’s taking it out on those around him, specifically Aaron, without acknowledging what he’d lost too. Or that he was the father of his grandson, the absolute hero of his grandson, and that if he carried on down the path he was taking Jack would only grow to resent him for treating his father that way as he gets older.

She blows out a breath and sinks further into Aaron’s couch, glass of wine in hand, and she smiles at the sound of chattering coming from Jack’s bedroom down the hall. She closes her eyes and imagines a world where this was her life. Where she sat here every evening listening to her Hotchner boys talk to each other, or snuggled between them on the couch every night.

She opens her eyes when she hears the bedroom door opening and she smiles at Aaron as he walks towards her, “He okay?”

Aaron nods as he sits down, “He’s okay. Holidays are hard - he misses Haley.”

“You both do,” she says, smiling softly at him.“It’s okay to miss her even though you weren't together anymore when she died. You’ve known her most of your life,” she reaches out for him, her hand on his arm before she can think about it, “It’s okay to miss her.”

He nods, blowing out a slow breath, chuckling humourlessly as he reaches for his glass of wine on the coffee table, grateful when her hand doesn’t slip away from his arm, her palm warm against his skin “And you say I know you too well.”

She hums, “I don’t think that’s possible,” she smiles when he does at her repetition of his words earlier that day, “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

There’s something so honest about the way he says it that it surprises her for a moment, stealing the breath from her lungs as she smiles at him, “Has Roy always been like that with you?”

“Standoffish?”

“I was going to go for rude,” she mutters, “But yeah. Has he always been like that?”

He sighs and sinks back against the couch, a lifetime of memories hitting him all at once as he thinks about the man who had never quite liked him, but never used to hate him like he did now.

“He was never really a fan of mine,” he answers, turning his head to look at her, “But Haley loved me and he loved her so he…put up with me. Then when we got divorced he stopped pretending.”

She clenches her jaw, desperate to keep her words back long enough so she can make sure they’re measured. She was used to controlling her feelings for him around him but this felt different, the need to protect him so strong she felt it thumping alongside her heart in his chest.

“Still, you’re Jack’s dad, and his only parent,” she has a sip of wine, “He should show you the respect you deserve.”

“To him, this is the respect I deserve. After all, I’m the reason his daughter is dead.”

He only realises he’s said it outloud when she gasps, an intake of breath that she can’t stop as her eyes go wide. He knows he wouldn’t say it in front of anyone else but she had this way of flaying him open, of tearing him apart at the seams where he’d sewn himself back together, and he could never quite figure out if he liked it or not.

Being entirely known by someone was a privilege, but it was a vulnerability too, and it had been so long since he’d let someone get this close to him.

“Aaron…” she chokes out, leaning forward to place her glass of wine down on the table, “You…you don’t believe that do you?”

“I…” he trails off, placing his glass of wine next to hers before he turns, his knee knocking against hers the first indication he gets of how close she is to him now, “Sometimes.”

She isn’t sure if she wants to yell at him or hug him. Or both. Fierce protectiveness of him rolling through her again, even though it was him that she wanted to protect him from. She reaches out for him, and she hesitates for a second, her hand frozen in the air, before she cups his cheek and makes him look at her.

“It isn’t your fault,” she says, her eyes searching his, “The man whose fault it is died. He’s dead. You…you’re the reason your son is alive, and thriving and the happiest kid I’ve ever met.” She says, and he chuckles, the sound thick as it catches in his chest, “And you always joke I’m his favourite person but it’s you, Aaron. You’re his favourite person. He loves you so much.”

“I know,” he chokes out, leaning into the warmth of her palm against his cheek, trying to commit it all to memory for when it would come to an end, “Usually I can rationalise it. I know it’s not my fault. But...It’s just hard to remember sometimes.”

“I know,” she replies, smiling sadly when their eyes meet, “Better than most.”

They sit like that, in their half embrace with her hand against his cheek, staring at each other, and for a moment she thinks about leaning in, about pressing her lips against his and kissing him, but she stops herself. Her bravery snuffed out as quickly as it had ignited, not entirely sure she could take the leap unless she knew he wanted to jump with her too.

She pulls back abruptly, leaving his cheek cold as her hand slips to her lap and she clears her throat. “I should get going. Thanks for having me.”

Aaron frowns and stands up at the same time she does, “Em-”

“Sergio will be waiting for me,” she says, cutting him off as she walks towards the front door, “He is grumpy when I don’t-”

“Emily,” he says, firmer this time, stopping her from getting any further away by standing in front of her, “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, “If I have to say it, I’ve misread a lot over the years and I am really bad at my job.”

He sucks in a breath, and he knows it’s now or never, that if he lets her leave it would be over before it could even start. They were at a crossroads, two paths laid out in front of them, and he knew there was only one that he wanted to walk.

And it was the one where she’d be right by his side.

He steps forward, making it so there’s no space between them, and he tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. He sucks in a breath at the same time she does, and their eyes meet for a second before he leans in, her lips soft against his. It’s everything and more than they’d both imagined over the years, a moment in time and one that would last forever, drawing out around them like the finest of thread as they moved forward together. Everything they could, and would have, leading back to this one kiss.

When she pulls back she rests her forehead against his, her lips pressed together before she licks them, chasing the taste of him on her skin, “So,” she says, chuckling breathlessly, “I wasn’t misreading anything.”

He shakes his head and pulls back to look at her, both of his arms wrapped around her to keep her in place, “Em, I…”

She nods and rests her forehead against his again, “I know,” she cups the back of his head, her nails scratching against his scalp, “I know.”

They stand there, pressed against each other as they breathe each other in, the acknowledgement of everything else there was left to say, and he chuckles and pulls back to look at her, “Would it be cheesy for me to say this is something I’m thankful for?”

She laughs, the sound wet as it catches on a sob and she nods, making her forehead knock against his, “Yes,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and dragging him into a kiss, “But I’ll let it slide this once.”

She doesn’t have to say that she’s thankful too, because he already knows.

#hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner #hotchniss #hotchniss fan fic

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h0ney-mochi · 10 hours ago

Text

Admit it, it's jealousy. (Scaramouche x reader)

# sub!Scaramouche, sub!scara, dom!reader, top!reader, readers gender not specified, can be read as gn!reader, reader gets called mommy though, begging, praise kink, scara gets called puppy a few times

Summary: Scaramouche gets jealous and he doesn't want to admit it. So you make him admit it.

A/n: I'm posting this on Tumblr because not all Tumblr people have seen my ao3, probably! :) It's pretty crazy to think about it... I wrote this in 2022... woah. It had its 2 year anniversary a few days ago. ...I still haven't finished the 2nd part since it's deletion from my old phone. All I have is a snippet.. sigh

You knew it. He was obviously jealous. You were previously speaking with some of your guy friends, having a fun time, because one of them apparently just chowed down on some soap that looked like a food. Scaramouche on the other hand was hanging with some other random people, but you caught his eye. He watched as you were speaking with a smile, all of you laughing, the way your friends smiled at you back. It made him feel weird, he didn't know what it was. But he did not like that feeling.

Now you two were back home. You went to make yourself a simple drink in the kitchen, while Scara slowly followed you. He sat down on a chair by the kitchen island and watched you do your thing. "Do you want some tea as well?" You turned to look at him for a moment. He replied with a simple no, so you continued. You filled the object with water and put it to boil. Scara's mind wandered back to your friends, which made him feel that weird feeling again. You noticed him zoning out. You sat down in front of him and began speaking.

"Are you alright? You seem down," you asked with a small smile. He immediately looked at you. He stared for a moment before replying. "I'm fine, just because I look like something doesn't mean I'm that," he rolled his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, "what's wrong?" "Like you don't know," he snarled. You were confused. "What do you mean?" You asked, trying to think of what has happened today. Scara turned his head back at you, staring right at you, "The way they laughed with you? The way they were smiling at you? Looked like they felt accomplished when they made you laugh." You blinked. Did he mean your friends..?

Wait. You furrowed your brows, "What- you've got that wrong, they're my friends. We've always been like that. One of them told me how he ate soap unknowingly, that was funny!" He just nodded his head, "really?" "Yeah, you know that I'm friendly with everyone!" You spoke, tapping the table. He just looked away, not replying. It was silent, except for the water boiling. Then it hit you. He was jealous.

A smirk slowly went on your face. "Are you.. are you jealous, Scara?" You asked. Surely not. He looked at you. So that was that feeling..? He shook his head and looked away again. "No, I'm fucking not." He replied. You blinked at him. "Oh my god, you're jealous??" You couldn't stop your smirk as you watched him avoid your eyes. "I just said that I'm not, are you deaf?" He grunted, looking the other way. You felt amazing for some reason. You got up from your chair and walked to the other side of the island, where Scara sat. He noticed that and turned his chair towards you. You pointed at him, "that, my man, is called jealousy." He glared at you, "I'm not fucking jealous, idiot!" You glared back, "then why are you mad?" "Because they were laughing with you! Did you see the way they looked at you? They definitely had something in mind!" He shot back at you. Silence again. You stared at him, lidded eyes. He stared back.

"That's jealousy." You mumbled. He wanted to say something back, but didn't. "It's not," he denied, starting to spin back to the kitchen island, but you stopped him. He glared at you again, "what do you want." "You're jealous," you repeated, holding the chair. Scara turned his head away, making an ugh noise. You took his jaw and turned him back to you. He went to take your hand away, but your hand that was preventing him from turning away shot to his wrist, stopping it. You watched his eyes widen.

Now he felt different.

"You're jealous," you whispered, staring into his eyes, "admit it." He was silent. He wanted to move his hand, but you tightened your grip on his wrist. His eyes drifted to the side, away from you. "Look at me, Scara," you immediately said. He looked to the other side. "Scara." You held his jaw a bit tighter, "look at me." You watched his eyes slowly look at you. His expression had softened. There was a moment of silence.

"Good boy," you whispered. That line went straight down his pants. You watched his eyes widen slightly. "Admit it. You're jealous." You spoke again, your grip on his jaw loosening, "It's normal, but you should tell me." His eyes drifted away again as he swallowed and you reacted. "Scaramouche, fucking look at me." You said and he immediately looked back. He felt tingly, he started feeling.. hot. "Speak." You simply said. He blinked, eyes looking away, "Ugh, fine, I-" "Look at me." You interrupted him. Scara felt his dick twitch. He looked at you again, a small blush on his face. "I was jealous-" He whispered. "Scara." "I'm jealous-" he said a bit louder. Silence again. You watched his eyes go away again. You sighed and watched as he looked back at you in a moment. You went closer to his face, going to his ear. "Good boy," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. You took your hands away from him and went to pour water in your cup.

Scara just sat there, his mind repeating your words. He felt his dick twitch again as he breathed out through his nose. You just poured your water, put it away and watched the teabag float up to the top, the usual. You messed with your spoon and then put it down. You turned to Scaramouche. "Are you sure you don't want tea? Maybe you've changed your mind?" You asked. He stared at the ground. How did you change your attitude in a span of a few seconds? "Scara?" You asked again. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he just shook his head. You stared at him. Then it dawned on you.

You quickly went back to him, standing in front of him. He looked at you right away, scared that you'll tell him to speak again. "Oh God, I'm sorry, did I hold your wrist too tight?? Did I say something wrong?? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" you quickly started rambling. Scara stared at you in confusion. "What? No, no, you didn't hurt me- Where the fuck did you get that?" He furrowed his brows. "I don't know, you went quiet??" You shrugged, staring at him. Then he realized that you don't know the effect that your actions had on him. You two stared at each other. You looked away for a moment, then you started to walk back to your tea, but Scara caught your wrist and pulled you back. "Did I do someth-" "Am I really..?" He interrupted you. You looked at him. He was staring somewhere else. "What do you mean?" You asked, standing in front of him again. He took his hand away from your wrist. "What you said previously. Am I really.. you know-" he glanced at you before looking away again. You thought to yourself. Wait.. oh.

Your smirk was back. "Say it." You spoke and watched as Scara bit his lip for a second, turning his head away. "Am I really.. ugh." He felt his cheeks flush. "Come on, I know you can say it," you leaned closer to him. He was getting more anxious. "Am I really a- fuck. Am I really a good boy?" He quickly said, feeling the embarrassment wash over. You laughed a little, your hand going to his jaw. You turned his head towards you, his eyes still not meeting yours. "Look at me, Scara," you simply said, just like before. His eyes meet yours. "Yes," you started, your other hand going to his chest, fingers slowly sliding down, "you are a good boy." You could feel his heartbeat quicken. Nervous eyes staring into yours. "You want me to say it again?" Your fingers stopped at his stomach. He felt his dick twitch again. He blinked at you, glancing away from time to time, but not fully looking away. "Scara, tell me," you asked again. "Please," he whispered, eyes fixating on the ground.

"You'll have to try better than that," your fingers went back to his chest and you watched him look back at you. "No, please-" he repeated a bit louder. You smiled and he glanced away again. "There's no need to be ashamed, it's just us here, you know," you said, tilting your head to the side. Scara rolled his eyes, "Shut up." You pulled him a bit towards you by his jaw, causing him to look at you with a gasp. Your smile was gone. "I thought you wanted to be called a good boy, no?" You blinked at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, again. He just stared. "So you don't want me to call you that? You could have just said that earlier, you know," you looked away, looking bored. "No, please, please-" he started, but you cut him off with a stare. "What? Please what? Tell me." You put your attention on him again. He gulped, forcing himself to stare back at you, "please call me that, please-" "Call you what?" "Please call me a good boy, please, fuck-" He was getting desperate, you could tell. And you wanted to drag him further. "Not with that language," you lidded your eyes again. He exhaled, staring into your eyes intensively. "Please, please call me a good boy, for f- ugh, please," Scara started rambling in embarrassment, "mommy, just call me a good boy, please-"

"What was that?"

It went silent. He watched you slowly smirk as he realized what he said. "I-" he started, but nothing else came out. Fuck. "You want mommy to call you a good boy?" You whispered. He was desperate, nodding immediately, but you held his jaw. "Use your words, Scara." You pointed out. He wanted to curse himself for being so desperate for you. "Yes, please call me a good boy, please, m- ah, mommy-" he quickly spoke, eyes digging into yours. It went silent. His eyebrows were furrowed, face flushed — desperate. You slowly blinked at him. Then you went closer to his ear and spoke to him in a whisper.

"Good boy."

You heard him exhale. Your hand released his jaw. Your other hand went down his chest to the tent in his pants that already had a wet spot at the top. You heard him let out a surprised gasp. You pressed a few kisses on his neck, before pulling away to look at him. Scara's chest was rising while your hand circled his tip through his pants. You watched as his hand went to his mouth, loudly exhaling again. You looked down. You quickly got his pants down to his knees, staring at his boxers that were dark at a certain spot. You then pulled his boxers down just enough for his dick to be out. Scara was starting to feel dizzy, the feeling of his dick being free, your intense stare in his eyes. You quickly took his hand that was by his mouth and pulled it away from his mouth. "Don't do that, got it?" You told him. He quickly nodded. You stared. He licked his lips before responding, "yes, mommy-" You nodded, "Good boy." You noticed his dick twitch at that. It made you feel so powerful.

You let go of his hand, meanwhile your other hand slid down his chest to his thigh. You brought your finger to his tip, circling it, smearing his precum. He made a noise at that, bucking his hips. You took your hand away, looking at him. "If you're going to do that, I won't touch you." You warned. His eyes widened, "please don't, don't do that, please-" You nodded and went back to his dick. You wrapped your hand around and started to slowly slide it up, then back down, coating his dick with some precum. He whined, "please, please-" "Be patient, puppy," you responded, not removing your eyes from his dick. Slowly you picked up the pace. Then you looked at him. His eyes were shut, there was drool starting to slide down his chin. "Scara, look at me, open your eyes," you commanded. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you. You made eye contact. Fuck, he looked so submissive. You increased the speed, jerking his dick quicker, starting to make wet sounds from his precum. He moaned, head going back, more broken moans falling from his mouth.

"Scara, I told you to look at me," you reminded. He lifted his head back up, trying to look back at you. You giggled, "Good boy. Tell me how it feels, won't you?" Sweat was appearing on his skin, drool out his mouth. He started to speak, but that's when you started jerking around his tip. He moaned louder, tears starting to prick at his eyes. "Come on, tell me how good it feels," you whisper. "A-ah- f-feels good, fuck-! Oh my god, fuck, it feelssogood fuck, mommy-" Scara tried his best, but fuck did it feel good. You went closer, pressing your lips against his, indulging him in a kiss. His hands immediately clutched at your shirt while you drunk his moans. Your hand sped up, focusing on his whole shaft. More precum went down, making even more wet noises. You pushed your tongue against his, he kissed back messy. Then, you heard his moans becoming quicker, his hands clutching you tighter.

You pulled away from the kiss, licking your lips, staring down at him. "Gonna cum, puppy?" You asked and he nodded, staring up at you. Your hand started slowing down as you raised your eyebrow. He whined, "no, please, I'm close, please don't slow down, pleasepleaseplease-" "That's right, good boy," you went quicker, staring at his ruined state. His head fell back and his moans increased in volume. You could hear him say 'please' multiple times in a row. Then his head came back, looking into your eyes, begging you to not stop. You looked down at his dick, then looked back at him. You leaned into his neck to press a few kisses, while Scara placed his head on your shoulder, his hands going to your back, gripping the material again. "I'm- I'm gonnacum, a-ah, fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum I'mgonnacum please-" His breathing was heavy. "Then cum, go on," you whispered, "be a good boy and cum for me." That was the final push.

A loud moan went through his throat as he came. You looked down, watching his cum stain his shirt, drop on your hand, slide down to his thighs. After a few seconds, you started slowing your hand down. You could feel him shake, his breathing heavy again. Then your hand stopped. You kissed his neck while he breathed in your shoulder, calming down. Scara's head was spinning, he felt like he might pass out. Drool and tears had stained your shirt a bit. After a minute you felt him release your shirt. You pulled away, taking your hand away too. You looked at Scara. His eyes were unfocused, mouth still open, face hot, drool and tears. He looked so pretty, so ruined — it made you feel powerful, how you managed to somehow get him like this.

You broke the silence, asking, "Scara, are you alright?" You watched as he looked at you. "..I'm okay." He finally said, blinking at you. You smiled slightly, rubbing a few of his tears away with your clean hand. He was silent, staring at you. You stood up straight and looked at your other hand. You licked a bit off from your fingers, swallowing down. Scara stared, eyes slightly widening. No way he found that hot. "Alright, I'll get some tissues, wait here," you quickly said and walked to the bathroom. You washed your hands first.

Scara was zoning out, thinking of what the fuck just happened. He can't believe that he got so damn desperate for you, that he let that name slip out. He shook his head, looking down at himself. Yeah, he'll have to put this in the wash for sure. Then he heard noise, turning his head to it. You walked in with tissues and a slightly wet towel. You put down the towel on the island and took a few tissues. You took Scara's chin, holding his head up. With your other hand, you cleaned away his drool and a few wet tears. He couldn't stop staring at you. You noticed and just smiled at him.

Then you took your hand away from his jaw, looking down at his dick. You pushed his boxers a bit more away and cleaned the cum off his thighs with the tissue. Then you took another one, continuing to clean around. Then you carefully got to his shaft, then tried to get a few stains off from his shirt. After that you put the tissues away, taking the wet towel. You cleaned his thighs and areas again. Scara bit his lips, you were gentle. You put everything away and went to throw out the tissues.

"I think we should put a few of your clothes to wash, don't you think?" You asked, coming back. He nodded, but stopped mid-nod and responded, "Yeah, right." "Take your shirt off, I'll get you a new one," you smiled, running to a room. He felt his cheeks get hot again. He loved this, even if it made him very embarrassed. He slowly took his shirt off, then you ran back into the room. "Um, I got you clean boxers as well, if you don't mind-" you spoke, putting down the clothing on the chair next to him. He stayed silent, handing you his shirt. You took it and went to quickly put it in the washing machine. He took his pants and boxers off. He took the shirt and boxers that you got him and put them on.

When you came back, he was already holding his clothing in hand for you. "Did it get stained too?" You asked, taking them. He just looked away from your gaze, "just in case." You nodded and went to also put them in the wash. He could hear you pressing a few buttons and the machine starting to work. When you came back, Scara was still staring somewhere else. You stood in front of him.

"I'm sorry," you broke the silence. He immediately looked at you, face showing confusion. "Why the fuck are you sorry?" He asked. "You know," you messed with your shirt, "I kind of didn't really ask if you wanted me to do.. that, so- I understand if you're mad." He blinked at you. "You're a fool to think that," he replied, "I'm not mad. I'm.. surprised, I guess." "Why?" You stared back at him. Silence.

Scara stared at you. "Well, first of all-" he coughed, "you turned me on in the worst way possible." He looked away from you, feeling his face get hot more. "You made me beg for you, you- fuck. You.. goddammit, you made me fucking desperate." He felt the shame again. Silence. He started feeling nervous, for some reason. You quietly asked, "Did you hate it..?" He looked back at you, "No I didn't, I fucking loved it, idiot." "You loved me being controlling??" You asked again. He stared. He started thinking. "Well, if.. if that was that, then- um, I guess?" He shrugged. Silence, again.

You slightly smiled, "I'll make note of that." You leaned your head closer to him and he immediately kissed you. You kissed back, putting your hand on his chest, the other on his cheek. His hands went to your shirt, pulling you closer. You two made out, your thumb rubbing his cheek. Then you pulled away for a breath, but he pulled you back again. You slid your tongue against his, a muffled noise from Scara. After a few moments, he pulled away from the kiss, breathing on your lips. "You made me so desperate, you have no idea," he quickly whispered before kissing you again. You felt his hands clutch your shirt, pulling away again. "You made me- fuck, you made me-" he couldn't put into words. He wanted to kiss you again, but you put a finger to his lips.

You stared into his eyes, "I made you call me mommy?" He breathed out a 'yes'. "I made you obey me?" You continued, lidding your eyes. He breathed out another 'yes'. "I made you finish so hard, that you were shaking against me?" You put your hand back on his cheek. He whined out a 'yes.' You put your lips against him again, he kissed back immediately. You two made out for a while, some muffled noises from the man. Then you pulled away, pressing a finger on his lips again. "Let's go to bed. It's late and I want you to get rest, okay?" You spoke in a soft tone. He nodded. "We can continue tomorrow," you continued, taking your hands away from him. He did the same. You smiled at him. "Thank you," he mumbled so quietly you almost didn't hear him. "You're welcome, Scaramouche," you chuckled at his expression. "Jeez, so formal," he rolled his eyes. You laughed and then your eyes caught something.

A cup. With already cold water.

"Oh my god," you said out loud, Scara sending you a confused gaze, "I forgot about my tea." He turned his head to where you were staring and yep, your cup is there with your forgotten teabag. "..I'll heat it up and drink it, you can go to bed," you said, rubbing your forehead. He stood up and looked at you, wanting to say something, but didn't. He just stared, might slightly agape. You looked at him again. "You want me to tuck you in?" You smirked, a giggle coming from you. He widened his eyes, looking away, "no, fuck you." He started walking away and you followed him. Scara went into his room and turned around. "I thought you're making tea?" He raised his eyebrows at you. You nodded, "Yeah, I will. I just want to say goodnight."

"Well, you just said it, you can go now," he motioned his hand at you. "Get in your bed first," you said. He just rolled his eyes, "I was going to do that anyways." He walks to his bed and turns on the light on the nightstand. He sat on his bed, staring at you, arms crossed. You walked over to him, leaned down and pushed him down on the bed. He gasped and you kissed him. His heart started beating more again, feeling you move your lips against his. He got that feeling again. His hands went to your shirt, pulling you more. Your fingers ghosted on his arm, leaving behind goosebumps on his skin. He felt your knee press against his crotch and he moaned in surprise.

That was unintentional — you didn't realize where you placed your legs. You pulled away and smiled down at him. Scara started back. "Goodnight, Scara," you said, leaning into his neck, "Good boy." Then you got off him and left the room, waving at him before closing the door. He stared at the door. He ran a hand through his hair, then along his face. Scara got under the covers, trying to ignore the feeling, trying to ignore the need for your touch again.

You just went to heat up your tea. Microwave beeps, teabag out, a bit of honey in your cup, mix it. You sat down and enjoyed your drink, slowly. You put down your cup, staring at the surface, recalling what happened. It made you feel hot, just like before.

"And it started with him being jealous, huh?" You mumbled, taking a sip again. "Live laugh Scaramouche." You chuckled, finishing your drink.

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