#now about the film itself since I was reminded of it: | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melancholy-of-nadia · 3 months ago

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i'm not sure?! (m) | jjk/pjm/kth

title: i'm not sure?! pairing: jungkook x jimin x taehyung x show producer!reader(f) rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff, smut ; the canon idol au summary: You're a producer working on a BTS travel show, called "Are You Sure?!" staring BTS members Jimin and Jungkook, with their fellow member guest star Taehyung. Everything is going well on set as filming for the night comes to an end, but when Jungkook and Jimin inform you that they caught you staring at their shirtless bodies, things quickly escalate between you guys by the poolside. warnings: fluff, language, pwp, threesome, foursome, tit play, nipple play, licking, some body boob worship, blowjobs, hand jobs, eating out, multiple orgasms, ass slapping, light mlm moment, cumming, oral sex (m and f receieving), biting, praise, they all have a big dicks but they're different!, tatted jk and jimin is a warning in itself, jungkook is a bit more rough, jimin is soft :(((, taehyung dom tease!, insinuation that this is not their first rodeo lmfao, kisses note: i am watching are you sure?! and i've thought many thoughts... i hope this one shot can be prescribed to you and heal whatever insane and nasty intrusive thoughts you guys have when watching. i am a simple woman, but these men only slightly older than me have me wrecked :"))) also s/o to @daegudrama for editing despite her busyness total word count: 6.6k drop date: August 29th, 2024 5pm pst ao3 link

A day of filming wrapped as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery of Jeju Island.

The final shot had captured the last rays of sunlight glinting off the shimmering pool, where Jimin and Jungkook had been playfully splashing each other and playing mermaids, their laughter echoing through the tranquil evening air. The crew began to pack up the equipment, the usual post-shoot chatter filling the space as everyone prepared to unwind after another successful day.

You, the producer, had been watching the monitors closely, ensuring every moment was captured perfectly for "Are You Sure?"—the travel reality show hosted by BTS members Jimin and Jungkook. You’ve seen how their chemistry was undeniable since filming started out in the US in July. Now, once again, their camaraderie was infectious as they explored the beauty of Jeju, Korea with their fellow bandmate and guest star Taehyung by their side. Each outing in Jeju had been a hit: indoor rock climbing, go-karting, savoring omakase as well as other Jeju delicacies, and now, the pool at the luxurious house accommodation, where they seemed to find endless ways to entertain themselves, and the audiences who would eventually be watching this.

However, throughout this filming project, you found your eyes constantly lingering. The cool blue water rippled gently as Jimin and Jungkook clambered out, their naked torsos glistening in the fading light. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught yourself staring a little too long, mesmerized by the sight of them so effortlessly carefree and touchy. There was something about the way they moved, their playful energy, that made it hard to look away.

You shake off the thought. Get it together, Y/N! You finally got a big gig producing a reality show for BTS in your mid-20s and you cannot be ruining it over your lust. You sigh. Maybe the lack of touch and a relationship is really getting to you, but that’s what happens when you value your career above other mundane things. You have to remind yourself that you have to continue staying professional to make it to the end of filming this.

What you don’t know is that your stares haven’t gone unnoticed, especially by the youngest of the trio, Jungkook.

As you begin to collect your things, your heart skips a beat when you hear a voice call out to you.

“Hey, PD-nim. Can you come join us by the pool for a bit before you go,” Jungkook says, his tone casual, but his smile inviting. “We wanted to talk about tomorrow’s shoot.”

Jimin nods in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans against the edge of the pool. “Yeah, we’ve got some ideas for tomorrow. Plus, it’s a nice night—no reason to rush off, right?”

You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing. The day has been long, and you can feel the exhaustion settling in. But the chance to spend a few more moments in their company, even if just to discuss the next day's itinerary, is too tempting to resist.

“Uh,” you turn to look around at the other staff, seemingly wondering if you should stay behind.

However, the ones who notice the interaction shrug, seemingly wanting to go back to their accommodation next door and eat dinner. Great.

“Sure, I can stick around for a bit.” trying to keep your voice steady as you walk over to where they’re waiting.

All the staff but you fully exit, closing the large doors that encase you in this space with these beautiful men. You sit on one of the comfortable seats by the pool, nervously hugging your knees as you watch Jimin and Jungkook swim toward you. You notice Taehyung is still inside the living room, lying on the floor as he scrolls on his phone. “Is he coming to join us?” You ask, wondering if there are any concerns for tomorrow, wouldn’t it be good to have him hear this information too?

“He’ll join us later~” Jimin answers, his tone sounding like he’s up to something, but his adorable smirk makes you not question it.

“Ah, alright.”

A brief silence follows as you look to Jimin and Jungkook to start the conversation, but instead, they exchange a glance and giggle.

You’re confused, but you recognize this as typical behavior from them. “Is there something wrong?”

Jungkook’s giggling becomes softer before it cuts, “You know, we’ve noticed you staring at us too much throughout the trip in America and here.”

Holy shit! They noticed!

Panic sets in. Oh no no no. Is this it? They probably think you’re creepy. What if they think you’re some sort of sasaeng fan who somehow got involved in the production of this show to stalk them?

You’ll be labeled a pervert, potentially losing your job and getting blacklisted from the industry. All because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of their beautiful faces… and bodies. It’s not your fault! While you were a fan of BTS years ago, you gave that up once you entered the entertainment industry a few years ago and started out as a production assistant. You’ve occasionally seen them at music and end of the year shows you worked on, but you gently admired them from afar, prioritizing your work over anything else.

“I–” You struggle to find the words to defend yourself. “I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, your words muffled. “I-I didn’t mean to! Y-You’re… He’s…”

The professional and stoic exterior you’ve maintained begins to crumble now that you’ve been caught red-handed.

But despite your panic, Jimin and Jungkook find your reaction completely endearing.

“She’s reacting exactly as cute as you said!” Jimin laughs, splashing water at Jungkook, who swims toward the pool ladder to get out.

“I didn’t realize she’d be this flustered, though!” Jungkook says, a hint of concern in his voice. He climbs out of the pool and walks toward you, dripping water onto the deck. “PD-nim, don’t worry about it.”

You peek through your fingers, still mortified, as Jungkook approaches, looking as attractive as ever with his body glistening from light reflecting on the remnants of water falling down his body. His expression is soft, reassuring, and it only makes your heart race faster.

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re just teasing you,” His voice is light and teasing as he floats lazily in the pool “We’re not uncomfortable. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Jungkook nods, his expression gentle yet probing. “Yup! You’ve been nothing but professional this whole time. We just noticed that… maybe there’s more beneath the surface.”

Jimin gracefully lifts himself out of the pool and takes the seat on your other side. His presence is both comforting and disarming. “It’s like there’s something you’re holding back,” he adds, his tone hiding something deeper. “Something you’re denying yourself.”

You exhale slowly, trying to steady your nerves. Internally, you’re awestruck. It’s like they read you like a book. The intensity of their gazes still makes your heart race. Before you can respond, Jungkook’s eyes drop to your chest, his smile turning playful again.

“You know,” he says, “I noticed the black bikini top peeking out from under your tank top earlier.”

Your breath catches as his fingers touch the straps that tie behind your neck. You’d planned to swim later, after filming, wearing the bikini under your tank top and maxi skirt. Seeing how much fun they were having, you’d wanted to join in. But now, with their attention focused on you, you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Jimin leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Why don’t you take off your clothes so we can see it better? We’ll help you~”

Take off your clothes?! Your heart pounds in your chest, the suggestion hanging in the air between you. The teasing is taking a turn, and you’re not sure how to respond. Saying no might kill the mood, and who knows what they’d think—or say. But if you say yes… there’s no telling where this might lead.

You’re not sure. But after a moment’s hesitation, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay…”

Jungkook gently takes hold of the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch is both soft and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine as he slowly lifts the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jungkook pulls the tank top over your head, revealing the black bikini top beneath. Your cleavage and the roundness of your breasts are on full display, which makes them slightly more excited. The cool air hits your skin, making you acutely aware of how exposed you are.

But the look in their eyes isn’t one of judgment—it’s something far more intense, more primal.

Jimin watches with a satisfied smile, his gaze flickering between you and Jungkook. “You don’t need to hide, okay?” he adds, his voice soft yet commanding. “We’re all just having a little fun, right?”

Jungkook’s hands linger on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the skin just above the waistband of your maxi skirt. “This too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper as he hooks his fingers under the fabric.

You glance at Jimin, who nods encouragingly, his eyes dark with anticipation. There’s no turning back now, and a part of you doesn’t want to.

With a gentle tug, Jimin helps you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it pool around your feet. You stand up, stepping out of it. Now, your body is fully on display in the black bikini that suddenly feels far more revealing than it did before.

Jimin’s smile widens as his gaze travels over you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “Wow, you look even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill through you.

“She’s really pretty,” Jungkook’s hands trail up your sides, his touch light but possessive. “Let’s go in the pool for a swim,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You’re momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of scenario, blinking in surprise. The intensity of the moment shifts, and both Jimin and Jungkook burst into soft giggles at your reaction. Before you can say anything, Jungkook takes your hands and, with a mischievous grin, pulls you up from the lounge chair.

In one swift motion, he lifts you into his arms, the strength in his hold both reassuring and thrilling. “Hold on tight,” he says, winking at you before he leaps into the pool, bringing you along with him.

“Huh!? Wahh!!” The water rushes around you, cool and refreshing as you both plunge beneath the surface.

When you resurface, laughing and splashing, Jimin stands at the edge, watching with amusement. “Wait for me!” he calls out before executing a perfect cannonball right between you and Jungkook, sending a wave of water crashing over both of you.

The three of you laugh as the playful atmosphere takes over. The tension from earlier dissolves into something lighthearted and fun. In the pool, you play a variety of games: splashing water at each other, racing from one end to the other, seeing who can hold their breath the longest, and even attempting to dunk each other under the water.

You become more familiar with them and vice versa.

Jimin and Jungkook take turns lifting you up and tossing you into the deeper end, your laughter echoing in the night. At one point, Jungkook even suggests a round of “chicken fight,” where Jimin hoists you onto his shoulders while Jungkook does the same with an imaginary opponent, both of you trying to push each other off into the water.

As the night progresses, the games become more relaxed, the three of you floating side by side, your bodies gently swaying with the ripples of the water.

Maybe this is all that’s going to happen. Maybe you were overthinking any other scenario. They were just teasing you because you were staring at them throughout the filming. You guys are gonna call it a night, right?

Right–

“Y/N, can I touch your breasts.”

The sudden question jolts you out of your thoughts, and you quickly stand up in the pool, water cascading off your skin. Jungkook is closer now, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that wasn’t there before. His eyes are darker, a smoldering intensity taking over the playful spark you’re used to.

You swallow hard, caught completely off guard. “Is there… a reason?” you manage to ask, your voice coming out shakier than you’d like. You are on the bigger side than most girls here, so it’s not entirely surprising that your chest caught his eye.

Jungkook steps even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “I’m just curious,” he says softly, his voice low and almost hypnotic. “I want to see how they feel.”

Your heart races, every nerve in your body tingling as the situation escalates far beyond anything you’d imagined. You can’t believe this is happening, and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.

“Uh… sure,” you respond, barely above a whisper, your cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

Jungkook’s hand moves slowly, deliberately, under the cup of your bikini top. His touch is tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment, but then his fingers press more firmly against your skin, exploring the softness with a deliberate curiosity. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his thumb brush against your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

The sensation is heightened by the sight of his tattooed right arm, the intricate patterns of his sleeve adding a dark contrast to his skin. The ink swirls and curves with every movement, the bold lines almost mesmerizing as his hand continues its exploration.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatens to escape, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch. The water feels warmer now, the atmosphere is charged with sexual tension. Luckily the cameras outside are now off, but you still can’t let the staff in the building next door hear anything going on.

Jimin, who had been floating nearby, quietly watching, now moves closer as well, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Jungkook,” he says softly, his voice a gentle reminder that he’s there too, “Don’t hog all the fun.”

Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hand still lingering on your skin as he glances at Jimin with a playful smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jimin leans closer, his gaze intent and voice soft. “I’m going to touch you too, is that okay?”

You nod, anticipation and nervousness swirling within you.

Jimin’s hand moves under the bikini cup to grasp your left breast, his touch gentle yet confident as he begins to explore. His fingers graze and play with your nipple, causing a shiver to run through your body. His thumb and forefingers move in careful back and forth motions. Tenderly tweaking them, carefully observing the way your face reacts to his every touch. He appears as if he is under a trance, and looks at you with such a need in his eyes.

The sensation is heightened by Jungkook, who leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m gonna remove your top so I can suck on them a bit,” He says shyly, pausing for a moment to untie your bikini straps from the back of your neck and remove your bikini top, before lowering his head and softly pressing his lips to your nipple, his tongue darting out to tease.

His hands push your breasts together as his tongue caresses the inner curves of your tits, swirling his tongue across them. Your hands are on his shoulders as he continues, licking every inch of your chest, nuzzling his face between them and leaving kisses along the path. His tongue flicks your right nipple and your breathing hitches in your throat. Despite the water in the way, you can feel yourself becoming wet from below.

Jimin watches, clearly intrigued, and soon follows suit, his mouth finding the other breast. He rubs his mouth along it, giving it a couple of kisses then wrapping his lips around it. Suctioning and taking in the tit with such hungry delight.

You feel like you have whiplash, as you cry out from the warmth of their mouths on your skin, your back arches off of the wall of the pool. You want to touch them, reach for them, feel the silkiness of his hair in your grasp.

But Jimin doesn’t let up, taking his time licking slowly around your areola until your nipple perks up, hard and stiff. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and with the sudden cold from the night air, it feels all too much.

Jungkook looks up at you through his wet hair, through black lashes as he widens his mouth over your breast, his teeth bared, scraping the fat of your breast without ever breaking the skin. You cry out in a cluster of pleasure, maybe pain, as your senses are confused about all of the sensations at once.

Despite the feelings of them against you, their actions are synchronized and perfectly in tune with each other.

The pool’s gentle ripples and breeze seem to fade into the background as the focus narrows to the intimate touch of the two men. Their movements are tender and explorative, a blend of curiosity and desire that leaves you breathless and overwhelmed.

Your mind is fighting for dear life to stay sane and not lose to your animalistic urges,

“Let’s get out of the pool,” Jungkook commands, his voice firm yet enticing. “I want you to sit back on that daybed couch, baby.”

The shift in how he’s addressing you in the past 45 minutes is striking—both intimate and commanding. You nod, your body responding almost instinctively to his command as you all exit the pool. The three of you walk over to the poolside daybed, water dripping off your bodies, cooling in the night.

You sink into the plush cushions, the soft fabric cool against your heated skin. The daybed is large, designed for lounging, but right now, it feels like the center of something much more intense. Jungkook and Jimin kneel on either side of you, their knees pressing into the mattress as they lean over you, their wet bodies glistening under the soft pool lights.

You look at both of them, a daring thought forming in your mind. “I want to… lick at your chests too,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of eagerness, shyness and uncertainty.

The thought of exploring the contrasting textures of their skin, the difference in their nipples under your tongue, is almost overwhelming. You wonder how each will react, the mere anticipation making your breath catch.

Jimin’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “Go ahead,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of encouragement and desire. “We’re here for you.”

Jungkook watches intently, his gaze dark with expectation. “We’re all yours,” he says softly, his tone dripping with promise.

You reach out tentatively, your fingers brushing against their chests to feel the firmness of their muscles under your touch. The warmth of their skin sends a shiver down your spine as you explore the contours of their bodies. Your hands glide over Jungkook's chest first, pausing to tease his nipples with your fingertips gently. His breath hitches, a low hum of approval escaping his lips as he watches you with darkened eyes.

Encouraged by his reaction, you lean in closer, your mouth hovering just above his skin. You start with a soft kiss on his chest before taking one of his small chocolate nipples into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it in a slow, deliberate motion. Jungkook’s hand instinctively reaches up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he lets out a quiet groan of pleasure. His chest rises and falls more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to tease him, alternating between gentle licks and firmer sucks.

The sound of his pleasure fuels your desire, making you want to elicit even more reactions from him. But as you pull back slightly, your gaze shifts to Jimin, who has been watching with equal intensity. His eyes are filled with anticipation, his lips slightly parted as if he’s already imagining what it will feel like when it’s his turn.

You move towards Jimin, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest as you did with Jungkook. His skin feels different—softer, yet still firm beneath your touch. Just below his right breast, he has a delicate script tattoo, the word "Nevermind" inked in elegant, flowing letters. You've always found it sexy, this handwritten tattoo adds a personal touch to his perfectly sculpted body.

His nipples are also differently shaped, bigger, and a bit lighter in color. You can feel the slight tremble in his body as you gently roll his nipple between your fingers before leaning in to taste him. Your mouth closes over his nipple, your tongue flicking against it in a teasing rhythm that draws a sharp inhale from him. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly as you continue to explore him with your mouth.

Jimin’s reactions are more subtle, yet no less intense. His soft moans mix with Jungkook’s heavier breathing, creating a symphony of sounds that only heighten your own arousal. The way their bodies respond to your touch, the contrast in their reactions, drives you to explore further, to discover just how much pleasure you can bring them.

You pull back slightly, glancing toward the large doors that separate the pool area from the rest of the accommodation. A flicker of concern crosses your mind, and you bite your lip before whispering, “You two need to stay quiet. We don’t want anyone overhearing us.”

Any slight mistake and you will lose your job, remember?

Jimin and Jungkook exchange a glance, their playful expressions tinged with a shared understanding. They nod, their eyes never leaving yours as they silently agree to your request. But just as you start to relax, your actions come to a stop when you feel them guiding your hands downwards, placing them on their lower bodies.

Your breath catches as your fingers wrap around their growing hardness, the heat and firmness of their cocks hidden under their swim trunks pressing against your palms. Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear. “I’ve wanted to feel you so bad for months now,” he confesses, his voice low and thick with desire.

Jungkook, not to be outdone, adds in a hushed tone, his eyes glinting with a dark sparkle, “Me too. You don’t know how much you’ve been driving us crazy.”

Their words send a thrill through you, intensifying the moment. You didn’t realize you were having this effect on them. You look at them both, their shared longing evident in their eyes. Slowly, you pull their members out from their swim trunks, your heart racing as you position yourself between them, sinking to your knees on the cushioned daybed.

Oh fuck…

The size difference even extends to their dicks. Jungkook’s is much longer, with veins prominent on its sides. Jimin’s is shorter, but the girth is insane. You can’t help but imagine how they’d feel inside your pussy. No, you can’t get ahead of yourself Y/N. Not yet at least…

With a mixture of boldness and anticipation, you lean down, your lips parting as you begin to lick at their members, starting with soft, tentative strokes of your tongue. The sensation of their heated skin against your tongue is intoxicating, their quiet groans spurring you on. You alternate between them, your tongue tracing the veins along their lengths, savoring the contrast in texture and taste.

Jimin’s breath hitches as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his member, the salty taste mingling with the slickness of your saliva. His fingers suddenly tighten in your hair, but he remains obediently quiet, the tension in his body evident as he struggles to hold back his angelic voice.

You shift to Jungkook, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sucking. His quiet sounds of pleasure are like music to your ears, the low hums of approval vibrating. His hands rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding you as you take him deeper, feeling the way his body responds to every movement of your tongue.

At the same time, your hand reaches out to Jimin, wrapping around his throbbing length. You start stroking him with a steady rhythm, making sure to keep him engaged, the sensation of your fingers gliding over his slick skin keeping his arousal high. Jimin’s breath hitches, his eyes half-lidded with desire as he watches you.

The two of them try their best to stay quiet, but the occasional gasp, lust-filled phrases or whispered name of yours slips out, betraying their growing need.

“You’re so good at this PD nim…”

“Y/N, you’re so fucking fine…”

“Such a good girl, Y/N…”

“Fuck, right there…”

The thrill of their restraint only heightens your own arousal, driving you to explore them further, your lips and tongue working in tandem to bring them closer to the edge.

While working your mouth over Jungkook, you feel Jimin’s hand sliding up your body, his fingers brushing against your wet skin before cupping your breast. His thumb grazes over your nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. The dual feeling—Jimin’s touch on your breast and Jungkook’s heat filling your mouth—intensifies the moment, driving you to pleasure them both with renewed focus.

The tension in the atmosphere thickens, all your quiet breaths turning into ragged gasps. You can feel the subtle changes in their bodies, the way their muscles tighten, and the way their grips on you grow firmer. The anticipation builds, and you know they’re close, teetering on the edge of release.

Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice low and filled with need. “Y/N… can I come on your chest?” His eyes are dark with lust, the words almost a plea.

Jungkook isn’t far behind, his voice breathless and shaky as he adds, “And I–I want to come in your mouth. Is that okay?”

The heat in their words sends a shiver down your spine. You pause, looking up at them, their faces flushed with desire.

“Y-Yes that’s fine with me,” You nod, your consent clear in your eyes and the slight smile that tugs at your lips.

With their requests granted, you resume your ministrations with renewed intensity. Your hands work in tandem, stroking their members with a firm, steady rhythm while your tongue flicks and teases them both. The taste of them lingers on your tongue, salty and intoxicating, driving you to push them further, to bring them to the edge of ecstasy.

Their breaths quicken, and you can tell they’re both struggling to hold back, to savor the moment as long as possible. But the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon their restraint begins to falter.

Jungkook’s voice is the first to crack, a desperate whisper as he warns you, “I’m close… so close…”

Jimin removes his hand from your hair. Instead, Jungkook’s hand, adorned with intricate tattoos and the bold "ARMY" inked across his knuckles, slides from your shoulder to your hair this time. The grip is firm and possessive, his fingers weaving into your strands with a fierce, almost primal hold. The veins beneath his tattooed skin pulsate as he uses his arm to guide you closer, pushing himself deeper into you with each powerful thrust. His tattooed bicep flexes with every movement, demonstrating his strength and control, while the rhythmic thrusts become more urgent.

Jimin's breath hitches as soft, erotic moans escape his lips, each sound laced with urgency to let go. His voice quivers, with a strained yet sensual whisper, “Me too… I’m going to come…” The words tumble out in a series of ragged breaths

With one last, deliberate stroke of your hand and a final suck, you push them both over the edge.

“F-Fuck!” Jimin lets out a guttural groan as he releases, his hot seed spilling onto your breasts, painting your skin with his pleasure. The warmth of it spreads across your breasts, the sensation almost surreal as you continue to stroke him, milking out every last drop.

At the same time, Jungkook’s hips buck slightly as he comes, the hot, salty taste of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow him down eagerly, your tongue swirling around him to milk him of every last bit. The taste of him lingers, warm and slightly bitter, but satisfying in a way that leaves you wanting more.

The sounds they make—those broken moans, the gasps of pleasure—echo in your ears, a symphony of gratification. Their bodies tremble with the aftershocks of their orgasms, their hands gentle but insistent as they guide you through the final moments of their release.

When they’ve finally come down from the high, their breathing ragged but steadying, they look down at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. The sight of you, your chest slick with Jimin’s release and your lips still wet from Jungkook seems to stir something deeper in them—a shared sense of intimacy that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. Your fingers move instinctively, collecting Jimin’s release and bringing it to your lips, savoring the taste as you clean yourself, erasing the evidence of what just transpired. The sensation is both surreal and thrilling, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the air.

Jungkook's voice breaks through the haze, his tone a mix of innocence and desire. “PD-nim, can we do more with you?” His eyes sparkle with the same enthusiasm you’ve seen during filming, making it nearly impossible to deny him.

“H-Huh!? Oh…” you stammer, caught off guard. That look in his eyes—it’s almost impossible to resist. But a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you should be heading back before the other staff starts wondering where you are.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick!” Jimin adds, his voice smooth and coaxing, making it even harder to stick to your resolve. “We can eat you out, or we can penetr—”

Before he can finish, another voice cuts through the tension, startling you. “Oh… so that’s what you guys were doing?”

You turn your head sharply to see Taehyung standing there, now wearing swim trunks, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart races, the sudden realization hitting you like a wave. “Oh my God, I forgot about Taehyung…” you gasp, instinctively trying to cover yourself, though it’s far too late for modesty.

“Hey, I thought you were going to head to bed?” Jimin narrows his eyes at the slightly younger man. He must’ve been watching you all this entire time, he thinks.

He chuckles, an amused glint in his eyes as he takes in the scene. “I thought you guys were still playing in the pool or something… but I’m not surprised things ended up this way. You two are always up to shit like this.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, clearly unimpressed yet intrigued.

“Huh?” you manage to squeak out, your mind reeling. Always up to shit like this? What’s that supposed to mean–

Taehyung’s smirk deepens, and he steps closer. “Anyways, I’m bored. Let me join in too,” he says casually with a boxy smile, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I won’t disappoint heh~”

He winks. HE WINKS!

The three members of the BTS maknae line look at you deviously, waiting to pounce on you at your command.

“I don’t think we should be–”

“Are you sure?” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison.

“I… “ The title of the show is going to come back to haunt you.

“I’m not sure…?” You can’t find yourself to say no, having already gone to the deep end.

You will be closer to getting fired if you get caught at this rate, but to hell with it, “Okay, fine!”

And immediately, they’re all over your body, reigniting the hidden flame in your heart that reminds you how much you loved them as a fan years before. You won’t survive this.

“Come over here,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice deep and commanding as he settles against the pillows of the daybed. He props himself up, making sure he’s comfortable, then motions for you to crawl in front of him.

Your heart races as you move into position, with Jungkook and Jimin on each side of you, their eyes dark with lust. The daybed is deep enough that you’re perfectly nestled between them.

As you get closer to Taehyung, you feel his hands sliding up your thighs, tugging lightly at the waistband of your bikini bottoms. You gasp softly, a thrill running through you as he pulls them down slowly, exposing your wetness. The sensation sends a shiver through you, heightening your anticipation and eagerness to get this over with. You lift your hips slightly to help him slide them off completely, leaving you fully exposed.

Taehyung’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

He props himself up with the pillows behind his head, his hands settling on your hips as he guides you closer. “Sit on my face,” he tells you, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Your breath catches at the bold command, but the heat in his eyes, the way his hands grip your hips, sends a rush of excitement through you. You move to straddle him, your heart pounding as you position yourself over his face. Jungkook and Jimin remain close, their hands brushing over your body, adding to the growing heat between you all.

As you lower yourself onto his waiting mouth, the first touch of his tongue against your most sensitive spot sends a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

“A-Ah~ T-Taehyung…” You gasp, your fingers gripping the daybed as Taehyung’s tongue begins to work its magic, teasing and tasting you with skillful precision.

Taehyung’s tongue explores you, from your clit to your entrance. His mouth working in a rhythm that leaves you breathless, and your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jimin and Jungkook are on either side of you, their hands moving to your breasts, where they each take a breast in their grasp. Their mouths soon follow, lips closing over your nipples as they begin to suck and tease you with their tongues once more. The dual sensation of Taehyung’s mouth on you and the boys’ attention on your breasts sends your mind reeling, pleasure coursing through you to unleash an orgasm. But you need to be patient and let it continue consuming you.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, tugging off Taehyung’s trunks with a practiced ease before wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s impressive length. The sight makes your eyes widen, but you aren’t entirely surprised by their actions—after all, you’ve seen how touchy BTS are with one another. Even filming earlier in the day and even back in the States. But this? Seeing them work together to push you to the brink of pleasure only makes you even hornier.

And Taehyung’s dick… it’s massive, much bigger than the other two. The way his tan skin contrasts with the thick, veined shaft is mesmerizing, almost too much to take in. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside you, making you ache with the anticipation of trying it next time.

Jimin, not to be outdone, reaches over to stroke Jungkook, his touch slow and deliberate, making sure to keep him just as aroused. His free hand slips down to touch himself, fingers wrapping around his own length as he matches the pace. The sensation of their hands moving in tandem, coupled with the attention they’re lavishing on you, makes your body tremble with need.

You ride Taehyung’s face, grinding down against his mouth as his tongue works magic on you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can. Your hands clutch the edges of the daybed for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you lose yourself in the sensations they’re giving you. Since you’re facing outwards, Taehyung’s hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer, deepening the connection between his mouth and your most sensitive spot. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he devours you with renewed intensity. He gives it a slap, which makes you cringe before you go back to indulging in the pleasure.

The feeling of the two men’s mouths on your breasts, Taehyung’s tongue inside you, and the sight of their hands pleasuring each other is almost too much to bear. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body quivering with the need to release.

Jimin and Jungkook suck harder on your nipples, their teeth grazing them just enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Taehyung’s tongue flicks and swirls with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, finally, it all becomes too much. The pleasure explodes within you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body tenses, your thighs clenching around Taehyung’s head as you ride out the waves of ecstasy, the sensation amplified by the boys’ continued ministrations.

As the last tremors of your orgasm fade, you collapse forward slightly, your body spent and trembling. Taehyung gently guides you off him, his lips slick with your arousal, and you fall onto the daybed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook quickly follow, their own bodies shuddering as they reach their peaks, their releases mingling, landing onto each others bodies or the fabric beneath them.

Now the three of you lay there, breathless and spent, with limbs piled on top of each other. The air is thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, however a yearning for more still remains. The outdoor area is quiet, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, as you all come down from the high of your shared pleasure.

Jungkook leans in close, his voice low and filled with unfulfilled desire. “I’m so eager to fuck you, but I’ll wait until tomorrow after the itinerary is done,” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering with lust as he looks down at you.

Jimin, still tenderly stroking your skin, adds with a soft smile, “We don’t want you getting into trouble, PD-nim. We’ll be patient.”

You manage a weak smile, your mind swirling with the aftershocks of what just happened. “How have the staff not conveniently come in to check on us?” you wonder aloud, your voice shaky with exhaustion and disbelief.

The three of them exchange a glance, a shared understanding passing between them.

Don’t say that the staff are aware that they’re doing this…!? Taehyung’s words from earlier were already… odd, but you decide not to think too hard on it right now. You need to head back anyway, so let’s keep this drama-free, you think to yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time you hear about idols doing these things.

They begin to clean you up, wiping away the evidence of your intense encounter. They’re gentle, their touches soothing as they take care of you, ensuring that you’re comfortable before helping you to your feet to get dressed.

They walk you to the door, each of them pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before they see you out, their eyes filled with satisfaction. You step out, your mind reeling from the events that just transpired.

“Oh my god…” you say to yourself in a whisper.

As you walk away from the daybed, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation—tangled up with the three members of BTS in a way you never could have imagined. The memory of their hands, their mouths, their words lingers with you, a heady reminder of the connection you’ve just shared. And though you know the risks, the dangers of what you’ve done, you can’t bring yourself to regret a single moment.

With a deep breath, you start heading back to your accommodation, telling yourself you still have more days of this show’s filming to go. And more chance encounters with them as well.

The End????

A/N: HAPPY SURPRISE ONE SHOT DROP! OKAY. ALSO I HAD PLANNED TO BLUE BALL YOU GUYS AND NOT GIVE YOU A TAE SCENE BUT RAE SAID I SHOULD WRITE IT SO I DID! I've seen all y'all thirsting over are you sure?! and honestly, the maknae line really FED US SO WELL WITH THIS SHOW. also never in my life did i think there would be no censoring of their bodies, but thank you god for allowing us to indulge in their beauty and cute antics lmao. if you somehow survived this and made it to the end, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think or like bc i was going THROUGH IT writing this 🥴 if it wasn’t good, i am so sorry for wasting your time. 😭

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sohnric · 5 months ago

Text

gold stars – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers au. fluff. a sprinkle of hurt/comfort in some parts, a hint of college au!!

wc: 9.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mention of toxic family behaviors, a joke about a praise kink. eric is an embarrassing loserboy but i love him sm

listen to: risk by gracie abrams

where everything eric sohn does is search for your approval, and where you reward him with a gold star sticker for every act of kindness. will you ever see him as more than just a friend?

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading as always (i miss you deeply btw</33). also thank you @from-izzy for brainstorming with me and listening to me while i gushed about this silly fic idea. thanks @strayed-quokka lennon for giving me eric's insta username idea i will keep using it from now on in all fics AHAHA TT

If Eric was asked to pinpoint the exact moment where he started to rely on your validation, he wouldn’t really be sure of his answer. The truth is, somewhere deep inside of his soul, he knows the yearning has been there ever since he can remember, but the instance that is rooted in his memory as the core one– the one that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a teenager in love for the first time (which he wasn’t! Nor a teenager, not in love for the first time… right..?) – was one Thursday afternoon after he came home from taking his last exam of the semester to find a message from you waiting in his Instagram DMs.

Breathlessly clicking at the notification (and now, this should’ve been a sign of his growing feelings for you), he is welcomed with the sight of you sharing a post with him. Wholesome, but still a little silly, a picture of a yellow star poorly drawn onto a white background waves at him, the words ‘congratulation the stress didnt abolsultly kill u’ written in the Comic Sans font on the inside, making him giggle. Despite the typos and the poor grammar, his heart squeezes on itself, shaking his head at your adorable antics as he shoots you a quick message as a thank you. You’ve been helping him with the studies for the last couple of weeks (if constantly yelling out “you will murder this exam, Sohn’ and laughing at his miserable face counts as support), so it’s even more heartwarming to see his friend still be so supportive of him even after the hell already ended.

@ damnsohn [5:11 PM]: thank u i will now need to receive gold stars for everything tho

And see, he wasn’t really thinking before sending that message. He just needed to convey his gratitude without sounding too overly eager– without sounding too infatuated with your sheer existence and the validation of his efforts. (Failed)

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually follow up on his request.

To make things even better, you pulled through with physical reminders. The poorly drawn golden star landing into his Instagram DMs was just the start of the habit you fall into with Eric Sohn, the man whose love language is words of affirmation– without him even realizing it. And so, what started out as a wholesome, innocent joke, now turned into a recurring thing that is slowly, but surely making the boy go absolutely insane.

The first time he receives a physical golden star sticker is one day when he comes over to your place to watch a movie with you. You made a list full of iconic films you haven’t seen before– a list you get clowned for at first dates with any man that is pretentious enough to talk about his love for Quentin Tarantino (Eric told you to stop going on dates with the aesthetic, ‘indie’ looking men you find on Tinder) – and little by little, you try to get through it with the help of the rest of your friend group. Since everyone gets bored easily of mediocre films they’ve seen before, Eric is the one that spends the majority of movie nights with you– and that’s only because he’s the only one that doesn’t mind watching the Titanic for the fifth time already, if it means he can spend some time with you.

“You brought popcorn?” you gasp upon his arrival, gazing at the plastic bag in his hold, eyes big and full of stars– one would say you were looking at your first love. You weren’t– it was just a salty treat. Isn’t that every girl’s first love, though?

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Pre-popped?”

“Pre-popped,” he agrees as he takes off his shoes behind the door, watching as you jump up and down in excitement, taking the big bag out of his hands.

“I like it pre-popped the best, oh my god,” you hum, hugging the huge bag like it’s a teddy bear, going as far as pushing your cheek against it, making your face turn into an adorable pout. “They are a little stale and softer and–”

“And the salt is really settled into it’, yeah, I know, Y/N,” he snickers, finishing the sentence he’s heard you say about a million times already– he starts to wonder if you have short-term memory loss and don’t remember telling him every time you walk by the cinema. (And that’s a lot of times, since Sunwoo’s dad owns the place. Sometimes, Sunwoo makes Eric be his own delivery man– he would deny on most occasions, but ever since he learned that bringing Sunwoo his lunch to work means he can take home a bag of cinema popcorn, the one that admittedly, always tastes the best, he doesn’t complain much– he can use the stale bag as a leverage to make you do about anything.)

“Oh man,” you sigh, “aren’t you a dream. I was going to wait for a more serious occasion, but wait, let me just–” you say, running quickly into your room. Eric doesn’t question your antics, figuring out that he will know the reason for your disappearance soon enough anyway, and allows himself into the living room. Two cans of coca cola and a chocolate bar are already waiting on the coffee table, alongside the TV remote, and while he passes the couch and opens one of your kitchen cabinets to fish for a bowl to put the popcorn in, he hears your socked feet rumble against the floor, announcing your arrival.

Once he takes the big bowl he’s sure he’s seen you puke in before after a wild night out and settles it onto the kitchen counter, the bag of popcorn comes back into his view as you lazily throw it into the white plastic, still closed and sealed, waiting to be opened. As his hands move and go to rip it open, meaning to pour the snack in so you two can share while you watch the next movie on your list– which, just for the record, Eric never asks the title of before, afraid it might make him less excited for the movie night– you put something onto the back of his hand, giggling.

Eric curiously stops his movements, gazing at his own skin. There, shiny and glittery, is a sticker attached to his limb– a yellow star sticker, to be exact, making him look at you with a dumbfounded look, eyebrows furrowed, but lips still sealed into a wide grin.

“That’s a gold star for remembering my favorite snack,” you point, flicking his forehead as a way of swatting him away from you so you can open the bag yourself, “and for bringing it.”

When Eric doesn’t give you any coherent reply– despite his brain operating on a thousand miles per hour, thoughts just swirling around and silencing any rational words– you only laugh at his face, your nose scrunching in that adorable way that makes him want to reach over and squish both of your cheeks in between his fingers, crying out.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so serious about this,” you sigh, snickering. Eric was going to bring up the fact that you were the one serious enough about the sentiment to buy a full roll of star stickers to give him on various occasions, some more serious than others, but he kept his silence in fear of getting this advantage taken away from him. He doesn’t think he’d survive it. “If you manage to not eat the entire bowl before the movie starts, I’ll give you another one. Come on,” you call for him, body already disappearing back into the living room.

Eric follows you like a lost puppy. If he had a tail, at this moment, he would’ve been waggling it. After he drops to the sofa, he notices the movie paused on the TV in front of him to be none other than Dirty dancing. With a sigh, he recognises that he’s seen it about five times already with his mother and sister, and so he spends the hour and a half gazing at the star on his hand instead.

The next few stars he receives are gifts of a similar manner. Half-serious, but still enough to make Eric’s heart leap in his chest at your recognition.

One day, he says a joke in the middle of the conversation that nobody really appreciates. And see, it’s not really unexpected– he was already aware that his friend group doesn’t appreciate good humor– but the dead silence he receives after the lame joke still makes him feel kind of awkward. That’s only until he is greeted with the sound of your muffled chuckle, though– which is of amusement at the situation, and not his joke, just for the record– and the sight of you ruffling around your pockets. You take a roll of stickers out of your jean jacket, and before he knows it, a star sticker is glued onto his phone case, right in the corner of his phone laying screen down on the table.

“A gold star for trying,” you hum, making the rest of the group holler out a laugh at the casual bullying, “not as bad as last time, keep it up, buddy.”

Eric gets red in his cheeks. When he looks up from the dark wood of the dinner table, he is met with the sight of Sunwoo and Juyeon looking at him with shit-eating grins on his faces, wiggling their eyebrows at the very obvious reaction Eric has at the half-assed praise. The boy wonders if you’re the only one that hasn’t noticed yet, or if you just don’t really care about the effect you have on him. The star sticker stays glued to his phone case at all times, though, even when it’s worn-down and peeling off at the edges.

Another gold star is won from you one day when the semester starts again and you two meet up in the library, working on your respective essays. Each of you major in a different thing, so there is not much actual help shared other than underlying emotional support, and despite the coffee Eric brings you upon his arrival and the bag of chips resting on the table waiting for you to munch on them, which you refuse to touch before you finish a segment of your essay to ‘motivate yourself’, as you say, he can see you’re still a bit stressed out.

The suspicion is only proven to be true when he speaks up suddenly, lost in thought and a little overwhelmed himself. “How do you spell ‘accommodate’?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

He now admits that it’s a stupid question to ask, but somehow, getting advice from you is much easier than looking it up himself, or simply writing the word down to let Google docs do the editing. The answer you give him is short, sharp, and the tone of your voice stings the boy the tiniest bit. “Are you 5 years old, or something?”

“I–”

“I’m in the middle of writing an important paragraph, Eric, just Google it–”

“Jeez, okay,” he hums, rolling his eyes at your snappy composure. When your eyes meet only two seconds after, you look a little guilty. You say nothing, though, only continuing to focus on your essay– and Eric does the same, for the most part. (While he also tries to take his mind off the fact that you might think he’s a little bit stupid. You are a STEM major, after all– he’s the one studying media.)

After a while of typing away on your computer, though, you look at him with big eyes, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The subtle nerves and desperation in your face are enough to leave the man weak in his knees, and even though he’d like to reply to you in a similar manner to show you his disapproval with your previous tone, he can’t find it in himself to ever reject you as you mumble out a soft: “Switch?” having the man instantly nod, offering you his laptop.

This is standard practice for the two of you. While he doesn’t really know what you’re talking about in your essays– for all he knows, you could be pulling everything out of your ass– he enjoys reading the words you’ve written. You two often work on your essays together and switch from time to time to reread what the other one has so far– on a lookout for wrong word order, grammar, or anything sounding weird. It’s hard to rationally evaluate your work and find flaws in it after spending hours and hours on it, your brain desensitized to the content you’re writing. Having a helping pair of eyes is always for the better.

When the both of you are done and you switch the laptops back, there’s a gold sticker smiling back at him from the device settled right next to the Kirby sticker you’ve given him once after hearing him gushing about the game one night (Yes, he was tipsy and sentimental). He didn’t even notice you putting it on, and when he looks up at you with questioning eyes, you shrug at him, averting eye contact.

“A gold star for spelling ‘accommodate’ right,” you say, making the boy roll his eyes, snickering.

He doesn’t really question you further. Just the star sticker is enough for him now, if he’s being totally honest– even as unserious as they come. Had he pried more, though, maybe he’d find out that the gold star wasn’t just the prize for his spelling– but also for his patience and silent support he’s been sending you every single day.

And so, the habit preserves itself at first in a joking, half-serious manner. A gold star sticker for him when he reminds you to water your plants (‘for having a good memory’). A gold sticker for him when he carries you home on his back after you get too drunk at the bar with your friends (‘for having strong muscles’). A star sticker for him when he picks you up after work and drives you home (‘for having a cool car’). Another one when he cooks you ramen when you’re sick and don’t have enough energy to make yourself something warm for dinner (‘for being a 5* Michelin cook’). For his birthday, alongside with other things, you give him a strip of the gold star stickers, 5 in a row all next to each other– ‘for bearing the old age well’. He’s not even that much older than you in the first place, but he takes the external validation and praise with open arms, not really dwelling deeper into the sentiment underlying your joking, unserious reasonings.

He doesn’t really realize the stickers were a sign of gratitude for the fact that he listens to you and remembers what you have to say– not for having a good memory. They are for taking care of you on your lowest– not for having strong arms and a ‘fat ass’. They are a wordless thank you for his acts of service and protection of you, not for having a cool car and getting his driver’s license– although, the pride is the common undertone in some of the gold stars you give him. You give him gold stars on his birthday to tell him you’re proud of the man he’s growing into, not to make fun of him growing old. The boy is just too oblivious to realize it, it seems.

Some days are more difficult than others, though, and that’s when your star stickers gain more value and seriousness.

The day after he has a family reunion with the distant relatives that always pry too much into his business– ‘Do you have a girlfriend yet?’, ‘What will you end up doing with that useless degree of yours?’, ‘Do you still share a flat with that friend of yours? What about getting your own place?’ – he is met with the sight of you waiting for him after class, on one of the bean bags outside of the lecture room. His department is a solid 20 minute walk away from yours, so the sight of you there surprises him, but the shock is only intensified when you call him over with a wave of your hand and present him with a pack of M&M’s with a gold star stuck to the packaging.

“What’s that for?” he says, but opens the candy nonetheless. After he takes a few into his mouth, he offers you some– to which you shake your head and shrug.

“For being the coolest one out of your family,” you say close to his ear, like it’s a secret, before you ruffle his hair and stand up from the bean bag, strutting towards the exit. “Come on, I have beer over at my place. You can come over and rant about them being stupid, if you want.”

Eric smiles at your sincerity. Trying hard to tame his hair back into place, he follows you with his backpack hanging off one of his shoulders, and even though he’d love to finish the candy you’ve given him, he forces himself to leave at least three pieces inside of the bag, saving it for later– just so he can keep holding on to the star-adorning wrapper for some more.

One day is particularly hard for the boy as he locks himself out of the apartment, having to wait for his roommate Jake to come back from his hometown the other day, leaving him no place to stay– before you invite him over and force him to sleep over on the couch. You can tell there is something more bugging him, though– and so you push the boy for answers.

“What’s up? Locking yourself out is not the end of the world, y’know,” you say, trying to lighten up the situation.

Eric looks at you with tired eyes, shrugging. Truth be told, his mood has been gradually falling over the last couple of days– this incident was just what really tipped him over the edge and nudged him closer to a nervous breakdown. He’s been overwhelmed with work (too many people having high expectations of him that he is scared he cannot meet), with school (too many assignments he is afraid he can’t manage to get done in time) and also with his family constantly being at his neck about everything he does and chooses for his future– only fueling the burning pit of anxiety and insecurity crawling outside of the big hole inside of his chest.

“It’s nothing,” still, he notes. “I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time, really, ‘s all.”

You answer him with a slight pout of your lips, a saddened expression taking over your face. There is sympathy oozing off your presence, and Eric can’t tell if he dislikes it, or yearns too much for your caring words and gentle encouragement. He can’t tell if it’s natural or pathetic, to want, to need your compliments and validation so much– or if he’s just fallen into a hole he can’t crawl back out of, too hungry after every bit of your attention. You’ve completely enchanted the boy, made his heart both soft and erratically running whenever you’re around, and the things he constantly does for you are not only because he wants you to tell him he’s doing well, but also because he wants you to think of him as someone that you can lean on. He wants you to think of him as someone good enough for you.

Today, though, maybe he just needs a bit of validation. Maybe he just selfishly strives for your encouragement. It’s okay to just want to be loved on from time to time, no?

You coo, taking a seat next to him on the sofa you’ve spent countless movie nights on together, slotted side by side. Eric plays with his fingers in his lap, a heavy cloud hanging over his face. You know your friend isn’t really good at talking about his emotions– something akin to a mental block inside of him preventing him from ever fully opening up– but despite it all, it seems like he’s completely see-through in your eyes, handling you all the unspoken words on a silver platter. You know him too well.

“You’re doing well, Eric. Don’t let the doubts get into your head, yeah?” you hum, meeting eyes with the boy.

“Am I, though?”

The face you give him is stern, acting upset with him. “Of course you are! Stop saying that,” you shake your head at him, sighing when he doesn’t comply with your hard love. After a heartbeat of silence, you turn your head away from him and face the turned-off TV, instinctively wrapping your arm around the boy first, tucking him to your side, before you cradle his head and move it so it sits in the crook of your shoulder.

Patting his hair, ruffling it and gently playing with the strands before you move to scratch on his scalp, the actions all unarm the poor boy. He almost feels like he could cry and fall apart right there in front of you, right there in your hold, but his pride is oftentimes bigger than his need to let it all out– so he just stares ahead of him, teething at his bottom lip in silence.

After a moment, you rustle around your pocket with your free hand, seemingly searching for something. Eric watches you with curious eyes, big eyes reminiscent of ponds of water waiting to overflow when you take out a strip of star stickers from the inside of your sweatpants, gently taking one of them and sticking the golden star onto the fabric of his pants, right on his knee, before patting it affectionately.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice a bit hoarse. He’s glad you don’t mention it.

“Just in general,” you shrug, hand coming back up to play with his hair, “a gold star because I’m proud of you.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of, though..?”

“Of course there is!” you argue, raising your voice at him. He doesn’t make much effort to show you that he agrees or understands your point, so you gently take his hand into yours and wave it around in mock-joy– although you’re kind of serious about the sentiment. “Proud of you, because you’re alive and surviving! Yay!”

Eric snorts. It’s not enough to cure his mood completely, but it warms his heart up enough to make him forget about his tears.

“Do you just carry these on you at all times?” he asks, pointing towards the sticker on his leg.

“You never know when you need them,” you innocently agree. After your continuous doting, the boy finds himself falling asleep on your shoulder. When he wakes up in the morning, there’s a blanket thrown over his body he didn’t see in the room before, and he feels a thousand times better.

So far, Eric’s never asked for the gold star stickers. They always come to him by your initiative– and although he has to admit that sometimes he does stuff for you and expects a reward for it (in the form of the sticker, of course) – he never once begged to receive one himself. Sometimes, you surprise him. Sometimes, it’s obvious there is one coming– like after he helps you send out your psychology survey to every single person he knows (and he knows a lot of them. He is a born extrovert, after all.).

Much like the day of his football match.

He’s not really the biggest fan of the sport– he much prefers baseball, but his university no longer has a baseball team and he needs to get additional credit somehow– but when you add up the fact that it makes him popular with the fact that he ends up spending time playing around the field with his friends and over the course of the season gets actually better at the sport the more he practices, it’s not as bad as he expected.

The last match of the season turned out well– with their team winning– and although Eric wasn’t the one in charge of the winning goal (damn Kim Sunwoo and Jake Sim for collectively beating him to the victory), he was still ecstatic about the whole thing. After celebrating with his teammates, dubbing them up and screaming in victory, his eyes scan the crowd to find the rest of his friend group that he knows is there, watching him and Sunwoo play. (In reality, he’s just looking for you– he won’t admit that out loud, though.)

Running up to you with sparkles in his eyes, he watches as you cheer on your other friend, Sunwoo, when he beats him to the bleachers. (Not cool of him, if you ask Eric. His crush is literally right there.)

The taller boy enthusiastically talks about the match– as if you, Jihoon, Ryujin and Jay haven’t been on the bleachers the whole time, watching– and after a while, Eric hears your enthusiastic praise aimed towards his best friend, making his blood turn green in envy.

“Yo, that goal was so good, though!” you gush, patting Sunwoo on the shoulder.

“I know, right? Jake passed the ball to me in the perfect time, that other guy couldn’t even register what was happening,” he boosts, grinning to himself.

All attention is drawn on Kim Sunwoo, and Eric doesn’t like it. Not when it’s your attention we’re talking about. He doesn’t care if the whole university drools over the handsome fire sign (as if he doesn’t have a girlfriend anyway– although Eric is still surprised by the fact, after the way he treated the part-timer at his father’s movie theater in the first few weeks of their acquaintance). Believe me, Eric is completely content standing in the shadow whenever someone gushes about Kim Sunwoo, the star player of the team– until you’re involved, of course.

So, he sulks. And it’s apparent– or at least he thinks so. It doesn’t seem to clock in with any of his friends, though, as they all walk away from the football field, aiming to celebrate together in the cheap restaurant downtown. Eric walks behind the group like a lost puppy, and it takes exactly 5 minutes and 35 seconds (not that he’s counting) for you to finally notice the absence of his lame jokes and loud comments to just about everything.

“What’s up?” you ask when you trail behind the group to join his side, laughing at the pout on his face. “You look like you just lost the match. Which you didn’t. Not sure if you caught that…” you joke, bumping your hips with him.

“Well, you seem to be acting like it,” he comments, his words leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Huh?” you ask, genuine confusion tinting your expression. “We’re literally going to celebrate, I don’t get what you– is this because you want that stupid star sticker?” you cut yourself off mid-sentence, the boy already too readable to you after so much time.

Eric gasps in shock. He’s not really sure what he wanted out of mentioning it so openly to you, but to be called out like this surely wasn’t on the list. He feels heat rising to his cheeks with lightning speed, his eyes averting your gaze in the instant. Maybe the voices inside of his head were right. Maybe he is embarrassing.

“Well,” he shrugs, only digging the hole under himself deeper, “did I not do well too?” he mutters under his breath, the humiliation fully settling into his bones after you laugh straight at his face.

“Wow…” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “If I knew I was fueling your praise kink this much with the stickers, I would’ve stopped a long time ago–”

“I don’t have a praise kink–” he screams, battling you as you suddenly scramble after him with the sticker on your finger, waiting to be plastered somewhere onto his figure. He’s sure the whole commotion heard his poor attempt at defending himself, but he’s not willing to back down without a fight– anything to prove that he doesn’t depend on the stickers as much as one would think. He doesn’t want the sticker anymore. He doesn’t need it.

As you fight him and womanhandle him on the street, though, hands all over him, trying to get close as he desperately tries to push you away and fight the allegations, he finds himself unarmed when you get in close proximity of his body, pushing him against the wall. He’s sure he has more muscle power than you do, but the mental power in him is lacking– he just can’t make himself push you away from him. Your face is close to his, your breathing tickling his nose. His heart is stammering hard against his chest, your hands still clutching his wrists against the wall, making him feel like a horny teenager. His breathing is heavy– he doesn’t think he’s done much physical labor, though?

Before he has a chance to collect himself and physically unglue his eyes off your lips– glossy and pink, inviting him in– you make the boy’s brain short circuit even further when you lean close to his ear, whispering so no one else can hear.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, by the way.”

You know just which buttons to push. Maybe you’re a bit sadistic– with how knowledgeable you are of his feelings, but of how much you’re enjoying him being completely oblivious to the fact that you’re aware. You have him at your mercy, all yours to keep, his heart all yours to play with and scan in the palm of your hands.

A star sticker is pressed into the skin below his ear, right at the pulse point. With that, you unstick yourself from the boy, running back to the rest of the group. It takes Eric a moment to collect himself enough to rejoin his friends– so much he has to run (which is good, in hindsight– at least he has something to blame for his breathlessness)– but after this, he swears he’s never asking for validation from you ever again.

It’s too dangerous.

Almost as dangerous as you trying to ride his skateboard for the first time, it seems. He’s met with the fact only two weeks after the football match. When you texted him and convinced him you’re going to be fine and that he should definitely bring the board with him when you hang out later in the day– ‘I’m not a five year old, I can handle it! I bet it’s going to be fun!’ – he didn’t really expect you to be this bad at it. You seemed a little too confident for him to believe otherwise, and, well, in Eric’s eyes, you are perfect at just about everything.

This really shattered the image of you he had in his mind. Not in a bad way, no– the man has and always will worship the sheer ground you walk on– it’s just that more than admiration, the feeling flowing through his veins right now seems to be adoration. Eric always admired your every move, every single sentence that ever came out of your mouth. But now, he just can’t seem to contain himself as he watches you stumble over your own feet and try to balance yourself on the unmoving skateboard in the middle of the empty park, hands waving around your figure in a desperate need to not fall over and break your neck. (Which would never happen under Eric’s watch anyway. His reflexes are fast.)

“You look like a baby learning how to walk for the first time,” he gushes from the bench, your bags waiting at his feet. A wide grin is plastered onto his face as he watches you, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the constant stretch of the muscles.

“Very funny,” you sigh, stumbling over once again, making the board move with the kinetic motion of you stepping off of it, leaving Eric to stop it with his outstretched leg.

“You were so confident before,” he shakes his head, mocking you.

“Well, I tend to overestimate my abilities sometimes,” you shrug, a pout slowly appearing on your face as you move closer towards the male, obviously going to sit at the bench next to him. “It’s whatever, I don’t feel like skateboarding anymore–”

“You’re giving up already?”

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not,” he shakes his head, standing up and offering you his hand to take so he can bring you back up to your feet, “never back down, never what?”

“Eric, I’m not going to finish your TikTok references right now–”

“I said never back down never what?!” he hollers, forcefully tugging you to a standing position, the sigh escaping your lips only fueling him further with his ridiculous antics. “Never give up! That’s right, Y/N, very well. Now, let me help you, I promise it’s not as hard as it seems.”

“I mean, given the fact that even you can do it–”

Eric flashes you a stone cold look as a warning. He doesn’t really think the teasing is at place right now– you’re the one not capable of keeping balance on the skateboard. It’s not like you have any right to joke right now.

“Okay, I take it back.”

“Leave the jokes for when your legs don’t look like a freshy born horse’s with how much they’re shaking when you’re up on this thing, yeah?” he chuckles, hearing you snort out a laugh at the accuracy of his comment.

Eric should’ve known he was the one miscalculating his abilities to efficiently teach you how to skateboard before the act itself happened. He didn’t, though, and the thought only occurred to him the moment you started latching onto him like a koala to its favorite tree– all just so you could hold balance on the board beneath your feet.

Your legs are a little shaky– and so are Eric’s hands when they instinctively land on your waist as you latch onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. The boy is painfully aware of the layers of clothing preventing him from touching your bare skin, yet, his fingertips still tingle as they bear into your midriff, holding you steady and preventing you from falling.

“Now, this isn’t so hard,” you conclude, chuckling. Eric doesn’t find it in himself to look up at your face, knowing he’d go painfully red the second your eyes would meet. The close proximity of your body still makes him shy sometimes, despite the years of friendship you share, and so he keeps his gaze glued to the ground instead, clearing his throat before he speaks up again, trying to seem nonchalant and casual.

“I’ll move now, yeah?”

Without really waiting for your reply, his feet shift their position on the ground, dragging you across the road with him. Gentle steps at first, making sure you’re not too overwhelmed, then picking up speed so you move a little faster on the board. “Will you be okay if I let go?”

“I don’t know..? Hopefully…?” you say, voice wavering a little, nerves seeping through your tone.

“I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry,” he hums, feeling how you squeeze his shoulders for one last time before he lets go of your waist, watching the way you slide away on the skateboard. The pace isn’t too fast, yet, it’s still enough to make you grin widely at the boy, your body now used to the feeling, balance finally finding its way to you.

“Do you want me to push you around for a bit?” he offers, relishing in the way you nod eagerly at him, the grin on your face making his heart squeeze on itself. If he could carve the muscle out of his chest and offer it to you, he would. In his eyes, you deserve everything in this world– how could he not just try and give it to you, little by little, all by himself?

Light steps nearing your figure, he gently pushes you in the back, watching as you slide farther and farther away from him. Every time he gently nudges you in the right direction, he earns himself a hearty giggle from you, the motion making you feel free and reckless– just like teenagers do when discovering the activity for the first time. “I was right! It’s fun!”

Eric can feel himself relishing in the moment fully. Your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and he wishes he could engrave the sight of it into his memory forever. He knows that’s not possible, though, and so he pledges to try his hardest to make it appear on your face so much and so often that he has no chance to forget how it looks.

After you’re done and exhausted with the day, Eric makes it his quest to get you home safely before heading to his place. You complain about your feet hurting, and although the boy is doubtful of your whining, he still offers to drag you home as you stand on the skateboard, holding your hand the whole way. When he’s almost at your apartment complex, he feels the familiar star sticker glued to the back of his hand before you intertwine your fingers with his, running a thumb proudly over the gold plastic.

“A gold star for being a good teacher,” you note when your eyes meet, making the boy chuckle.

“Shouldn’t I be giving you one for being a good student? Is that not how things usually work?”

“I give credit where credit is due,” you hum, nodding to yourself. “Besides, that’s not only for that. I just…” you trail off, as if too nervous to say the next words. “I just wanted to show gratitude to you, ‘cause I had a really good time today,” you say nonchalantly, still, shrugging. Eric feels his stomach churning. How can you be so casual with saying words that make his heart skip a beat?

“I should show my gratitude to you more often too, y’know.”

You shake your head at him, laughing like it’s funny. “Oh, Eric. You do it so often you don’t even realize it. You just have a different way of showing it than I do.”

Eric averts his gaze from you, chewing on his bottom lip in nervousness. He starts to wonder if he’s been too obvious with his feelings. Do you see him differently now?

The questions almost drown him out on the way towards your house. Somewhere along the way, he realizes the act of holding your hand feels natural to him now. Gazing at your interlocked fingers, he smiles to himself. He could get used to it– all of it.

He could get used to the people smiling at him and you on the street when they see you with fingers interlocked. He could get used to holding your hand every day, keeping you close. He could get used to your touches, hugs and skinship. He could get used to waking up to you in the same apartment as him, like that one time he locked himself out and you let him sleep over at your place. And to a certain extent, he already has gotten used to you– all of you.

He’s used to texting you every day. He’s used to seeing you multiple times a week– because if he doesn’t, he misses you a little too much. He’s used to your movie nights and dancing with you in bars, shielding you from the looks of other greedy men wanting to get a piece of you. He’s used to the gold stickers you constantly provide him with as a gentle reminder of the unsaid feelings shared between the two of you. He’s used to your presence and your energy, he’s used to your teasing words and the memes you send in his Instagram DMs. If you were suddenly removed out of his life, he knows he’ll find it hard. It would feel like a piece of him was missing.

Some days, he tries to make himself believe that he’s content with what you two have right now. And he is, for the most part– but deep down, he knows he wants more. He always wanted something a bit more.

It shines through his actions on most days. It’s visible to everyone– the longing looks, the gentle touches. Jake once said Eric would jump out of a window if you asked him to, and after careful consideration, the boy had to shamefully agree with his roommate. Eric gets laughed at every time his cheeks blush when you give him too much special attention. He’s used to being called the ‘lover boy’ whenever you’re around.

In front of you, he tries to hide his feelings as much as possible, though.

Sometimes, it slips out of him, though. In moments where the day slowly comes to its end and the atmosphere turns more tender. On days when the movie nights get moved to his apartment, because it’s closer to your university and you claim you’re too tired to walk all the way back to your place. Eric claims you’re just lazy, but the pout on your face tells him otherwise.

On days when there is no one else in the apartment, just you two, and your conversation dies down. The boy is usually a chatterbox when it comes to watching movies with you– commenting on every single scene, making fun of the characters, teasingly spoiling bits and chunks of the plot for you– but it was a Friday night and you were snuggled up in your favorite hoodie, your bodies stuck tightly to each other on the sofa. There is a cloud of comfort, a huge curtain of intimacy falling over you two, and Eric is afraid that speaking up would ruin the sentiment.

After a few minutes, he feels your head lay on his shoulder. The crown of your head is instantly more interesting than the movie playing on the TV, his eyes glossing over your relaxed expression. There is hair falling into your face and your eyelashes are kissing your cheekbones, your brain no longer focusing on the movie, but slowly dozing off instead. Eric mentally coos– it’s not often you fall asleep next to him, and so he somehow finds himself treasuring the moment. You look so peaceful, so beautiful– yet so unaware of it. His heart squeezes with tenderness, making sink a little into the sofa cushions so you’re more comfortable in using him as your head rest. He knows waking you up or moving you so you’re resting against the back of the sofa would be more convenient for your neck, but he selfishly relishes in the fact that you found comfort in the crook of his shoulder instead.

He can’t help but smile widely at your composure. You look small and vulnerable. You look like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Eric indulges in the fact that he’s not watched right now, letting himself fully enjoy and admire your sheer existence.

He acts on impulse when his lips softly land onto your forehead. Not much thought goes into the sentiment– he just sheerly answered his heart’s calling.

You look dreamy. You look lovely. He’s in love with you, he thinks.

He lets himself settle deeper into the couch cushions. After no longer having to entertain you with his comments on the movie he’s seen 4 times already– The matrix– he finds himself bored enough of the familiar plot to doze off himself, forgetting about the promise he made to you to drive you home after the movie is over.

He sleeps through your smile and the shake of your head, as well as you detaching your head off his shoulder, smiling at the unaware boy. Not yet asleep– just resting your eyes for a bit– you were a witness of the boy’s tender, loving ministrations. You disappear out of the apartment after the movie is over, crossing paths with Jake in the entrance hall giving you a quiet wave and a point towards his roommate sitting on the sofa, a gold star adorning the tip of his nose.

You just shrug before leaving. Jake just shakes his head at both of you, wondering when your time will finally come. Eric wakes up in the middle of the night to the TV off, asking himself if he should consider the sticker a silent invitation.

And after a while of careful consideration– laying awake and wondering of all the what-ifs, replaying every moment spent with you over and over in his mind, looking for the very obvious signs of reciprocation– he decides to just go for it. He decides to be the brave man he claims he is, and finally makes the first step.

Well, at least tries to. Because as it turns out, it’s much more difficult to invite someone out on a date if you’re already friends with them for a prolonged amount of time. Not only is it more nerve-wrecking, but also much more confusing to the other party– and after inviting you out to get boba in the new place downtown, he’s not so sure you are aware that you’re on a date with him.

Not that Eric expected anything to change between the two of you instantly after going on a date– no, he’s completely fine with the dynamic you two have, and it’s one of the things he values the most about your friendship– he just thought the atmosphere would be… a little different.

Which is why he decides to start dropping not so subtle hints about his intentions. Brave, isn’t he?

First of all, he pays for your order. All after the 20 minutes you take standing outside of the boba store searching through the menu to find out what you’re going to get– and although Eric finds it endearing, he is also starting to get a little nervous.

“Didn’t know you were so indecisive,” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m not!” you grunt, shaking your head at your own antics. “I just don’t know what tastes good together. Should I just get one of the premade drinks on the menu? But I’m not really in the mood for any of these–”

“I’ll just get you a random one,” he sighs, “and you will have no other choice than to drink it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then at least you have someone to blame,” he snickers, pushing the glass door open and entering the quiet boba store. He orders you a kiwi bubble tea with strawberry popping pearls– because he knows you enjoy how they come apart in your mouth– and after he comes outside with both of the drinks in either of his hands, he waves you off when you ask him how much yours was so you can pay him back.

“It’s on me,” he hums.

An over-exaggerated sigh escapes your mouth at that. “You’re paying? You never pay,” you exclaim and take the straw in between your lips, ready to taste the drink. You and Eric both know that what you said is a lie– he has no issue with paying for you, and he brings you random treats all the time– but for the sake of the next line, he decides to go along with it.

“Well, today is a different occasion, I guess,” he shrugs.

With that, you stop and stare at him with stars in your eyes, a teasing smile slowly overtaking your lips. You’re not stupid– you’re not oblivious the way he is– and so Eric thinks you finally got the hint. Or, at least he hopes so. “Is it?”

Suddenly too shy under your gaze, cheeks tinting light pink, the boy averts his gaze from you and walks down the street, expecting you to follow him. He might be brave enough to drop hints, but still not brave enough to admit to it explicitly.

Not when he drags you to the park and sits with you on the bench, people watching. Not when he casually drops his arm on the back of the bench behind you, gluing himself particularly close to your body. Not when he lets you try his drink, battling away the annoying voice inside of his head telling him that you just shared an indirect kiss. (‘Come on, Eric. You’re not a teenager anymore. Get it together.’)

He doesn’t admit to it in words, but he sure does in actions when he gives you his jacket when the evening gets chilly. He swears you look the most adorable in his red windbreaker, and in a moment of weakness, he puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street, a selfish need of having you close to him winning above everything else.

“And what was so different about today, Eric?” you ask on the way to your apartment, gazing up at the beaming boy next to you. Are you teasing him again? Do you enjoy watching his misery?

Eric figures it’s for the best to tell you, though. He thinks it’s important to set the tone– because after today, it’s almost like nothing changed at all. The dynamic stays the same– and while he doesn’t think he hates it, he admits he’d just rather call you his.

So, despite the embarrassment, he chews on the bottom of his lip. You’re almost at your place already, and so he thinks it won’t hurt to talk about it now. If things go wrong, you can just go home and he can run to his apartment and violently cry into his pillow.

“Well, I was thinking…” he starts, clearing his throat to buy himself some time and also trying to bite down the excessive nerves clawing at him from the inside, “I… you… I was hoping this wasn’t just like… a regular day out, you know…?”

Blinking at him a few times– because you must love to torture him, there is no other explanation– you shake you head at him. “No, Eric. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Eric physically tears himself off you, your apartment complex now directly in front of him. Cracking his knuckles and taking a deep breath in to calm himself, he tries again. “I meant to… invite you out on a date today,” he proposes simply.

And in that moment, it’s like the whole world stops turning for a minute. Not only do you not give him any verbal answer, but your expression also stays the same as before– completely stoic and neutral, giving him no window into the way you feel about his suggestion. And you know what they say about Eric Sohn– he talks too much. Not only in situations where it’s inappropriate, but also in moments where he feels like there is nothing better to do than to fill the suffocating void that is the silence hanging over him– much like right now.

Eric rambles. “And- and I know I should’ve said that before making you go with me, but god, you don’t know how hard it is to make it clear to you that I’m trying to be more than friends with you without sounding absolutely fucking awkward!” he sighs, wetting his dry, chapped lips.

“And I’m sorry if this changes your view of me, or something, but trust me, our friendship means to me so much more than just trying to make you date me, that was never my intention behind things, I do everything out of care for you, because you’re– you’re just everything to me–”

After the last line, he hears you chuckle. Your eyes finally meet, and he feels like he wants a car to run him over approximately 15 times to make sure all his bones are broken and his skull is smashed into pieces– he’s sure it would be more comfortable than the situation he put himself in right now.

“That was so cheesy,” you say, Eric’s stomach making a flip that might as well force acid up his throat. He won’t throw up, he won’t throw up, he won’t embarrass himself even more–

His hands shake. Suddenly, you take them into yours.

He watches you carefully, ready to be let down. You step closer to him– surely, you’re going to give him a comforting hug as you tell him he read all the signs wrong and you don’t feel the same– before you lean into him, face inches away from his. Blinking, Eric suddenly registers your lips locking with his for a mere second, a soft, sweet caress of your mouth on his not giving him a chance to react– a chance to reciprocate– before you pull away, making him freeze.

“You always make things more complicated than they need to be,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Uh…” he lets out, like he lost all the words in his vocabulary. It’s the first time Eric Sohn has nothing to say– and it feels like a miracle. In reality, he’s taken aback and still processing.

The sight of him like this only makes you grin wider. It’s no question that you find him adorable like this, so bashful and surprised, cheeks turning red and lips slightly ajar, big eyes staring into yours. “Cat got your tongue?” you tease, letting go off his hands and placing your palms onto his cheeks instead, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. His brain might be blank right now, but his orbs still hold so many emotions– ones that make you soften and cave in on yourself, overflowing with tenderness. Hands automatically resting on your waist, Eric holds you close to his chest.

“Put your mouth to use in a different way, then,” you joke, watching the boy in front of you go into factory reset.

Lips crashing against yours, the boy kisses you like you’re his lifeline. Chasing after you, he puts all the words he’s said before and the ones he keeps hidden inside for now into the action, having you melt in his hold. He feels your breathing on his face, making him deeply aware of every detail, of every miniscule shift of your figure, every tiniest movement of your lips and the almost inaudible sound you let out when his teeth tug on your bottom lip as he pulls away for air, being a little overly-excited.

Foreheads resting together, the two of you in your own little bubble no one gets to peer into even on the busy street, Eric watches as you look down and take something out of your pocket– something he so deeply recognises, making his heart thump a thousand miles an hour, if it wasn’t already.

Another kiss is given to his lips– for good measure– before you press another one to the tip of his nose and one more peck into the middle of his forehead, making his legs feel like jelly. You follow your lips with the star sticker attached to your thumb, sticking it to your lover’s skin.

“That’s a gold star for being adorable,” you say, making him roll his eyes. “And for the nice date.”

“Don’t I get one for being a good kisser too?” he pries, watching as you scoff at his prideful question.

“I don’t know, Sohn,” you shrug, “I’m not sure yet, but I could be convinced–”

He cuts you off by locking your lips again, ready to prove you of his abilities. With the gold sticker proudly glimmering on his forehead, he realizes that maybe you were right– and all along, it has always been this simple.

#deoboyznet #bjnet #the boyz #eric sohn #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #eric sohn fluff #eric fluff #eric x reader #eric sohn x reader #tbz scenario #tbz fic #the boyz scenario #the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #sohn youngjae #youngjae x reader

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yerimbrit · 5 months ago

Text

let you break my heart again : m. danielle

synopsis: was it wrong of her to miss you, even though she was the one that got away?

# : pairing ! danielle marsh x gn!reader

# : tags ! part 2 of lovergirl, angst with a happy ending, fr this time, from dani's perspective, best friends to strangers to lovers, unresolved feelings, title from a laufey song, i listened to a lot of niki and w2e to cry this out, this could go two ways: i'm sorry for making this; and i'm happy you cried

# : wordcount ! 8.1k

# : warnings ! none

danielle thought that leaving you would help her forget about you.

keyword: thought. because all she could think of since returning to korea is you.

the night before she left, you had a sleepover with her. danielle's sudden departure was unplanned—she was supposed to leave three days later. it's not like she was expecting to leave in the dead of night, either.

when she debuted in newjeans, she was able to distract herself from you, albeit only somewhat. the schedules—photoshoots, recordings, music video filming and whatnot—they keep her busy, leaving no time for her to think about her unresolved feelings.

but on her off-days, when their ceo graciously grants them a break (which, unfortunately, is pretty often. a blessing and a curse within itself) she's left with plenty of time alone with her thoughts, when she's not with her family or members. it also gives her plenty of time to think about you and your awkward, charming little smile.

okay, she admits it. she misses you. a lot. it's like life without carrots... that's a bad example. it's like... the moon without the sun. you two were like two peas in a pod.

and then danielle went and ruined it all by leaving. all to escape the feelings she harbored for you. but the words uttered that night were simply too dangerous. too... tantalizing. and if she had taken the chance, she would've chosen you over her career.

"dani?"

her inner dilemma is interrupted by a sweet-sounding voice—hanni, her older member who she's very close to. danielle is handed a plastic water bottle, cold to the touch, and she gratefully accepts it from the shorter girl's offering hands. the cool liquid flows smoothly down her throat, refreshing her senses after the exhausting performance they just had for their comeback.

hanni rests her hand on danielle's shoulder in concern. "you okay?"

"yeah," she answers, twirling a strand of her curly hair with her pointer finger, "just thinking about home."

a pause. the older girl purses her lips, and sighs. whenever danielle thinks about home, she gets into this mood.

it has three levels: one. she's a little down, but will invite the first person she sees out for a walk. and instead of being the one talking, she urges them to be the talker for the day; the opposite of how she usually is.

two: she's really down. it won't just be a walk, she'll be out of it most of the time, and will need to be distracted by something extraordinary, like a beach picnic on a nice, sunny and warm day with lots of fruits and vegetables, and extra carrots of course. that, or visiting haerin's dog.

...and three: she won't leave her room at all. nothing will get her out, not even carrots or a cute animal sighting outside of the newjeans dorm. no one is allowed in, and if you pressed your ear against the door you could very faintly hear her breaking down. after almost a day, one of the girls is let in to give her dinner and maybe stay for a few minutes for emotional support. (it's random every time, but haerin is usually the one to go.)

right now, she's in stage two. it was a simple music bank performance, but she'd allowed herself to make a couple of mistakes in the choreography once the line that reminds her of you was sung. on top of that, she had around five dance challenges to film with various idols, and those tired her out one after another.

sometimes, she questions the necessity of these tiktoks. sure, she gets to meet a lot of people, and that's fun because everyone is just so nice, but lately she's been wanting to just go home.

she's pulled up by the shorter vietnamese girl, out of her sitting spot in their green room. minji and hyein are by the door behind them, and haerin could be seen talking to their manager just outside.

"well, it's time to go home. what do you say about watching the little mermaid after dinner?"

danielle wanted to go straight to her room and faceplant into her bed, but she can never say no to watching the little mermaid.

"deal."

hanni grins and takes a step back. "and you know you can talk to us."

the statement makes her bite her lip. it's true, she knows that. she's confided in them a few times, but they don't know much about you other than the fact you were childhood friends and that danielle is very much still in love with you.

"i know."

with that, they set off to go back to the dorm.

everyone falls asleep in the van except her. the sky has turned dark, and all she could see outside is the city lights zooming by.

she's taken back to the nightly walks that were a regular for the two of you. you always said that something about it speaks to you, the way the moon casts an illuminated glow over the scenery.

you'd always adored the city lights. and danielle adores you.

it's chilly out on the rooftop, though soon it'll turn to hot, humid summer nights. danielle doesn't mind it; it reminds her of australian summers.

she sighs and leans against the railing. she still hasn't quite snapped out of her despondent state, despite hanni's best efforts to cheer her up via happy disney movie.

tonight is a waxing crescent moon. it's accompanied by the twinkling stars which light up the night sky. it's beautiful—danielle wants to just reach out and grab them, hold them up to her face so she can admire their beauty from up close.

alas, she can't. so she takes a lollipop out from her pocket and unwraps it. her mom always says to not have sugar late at night, but she supposes today is a special occasion. when was the last time she got to enjoy a good old late night snack, anyway?

it's a burst of cherry that she tastes as soon as the candy touches her tongue. maybe she should've picked green apple. or watermelon. cherry is getting kind of old.

a breeze blows by, and danielle shivers. her fatigue has been making her more susceptible to the cold. she pulls the sleeves of your her worn out hoodie over her hands, and takes a deep breath. it doesn't smell like you anymore, but it does create the illusion of being held in your embrace. hanni and minji have told her to get rid of it countless times, but she can't bring herself to. every time she tries, it's like the mickey mouse on the front of the garment is mocking her. "this is like, the last thing you have of her. you're not really gonna throw me away, are you?"

"i miss you," she says to no one in particular. no one that is currently present, anyway. you're probably still in australia, with new friends and new beginnings. or maybe you've started planning the opening of that bookstore you were going to open with her. except you'd be opening it without her now.

"i still love you. i meant what i said at the sleepover," danielle sniffles into the sleeve. "i don't know if you remember, you were sleeping. you're so cute when you're sleeping, is that weird to say?" she laughs, the tears still burning in her eyes. she wipes them away using the back of her hand. and, just for a moment, she swears she can smell you when she pulls on the drawstrings to bring the fabric tighter against her skin.

("you can't be serious."

danielle giggles as she feels your body sink into the space beside her on the mattress.

"you think i could make that up?" she teases, her gaze flickering over to you. you're now leaning on your palm, facing your body to danielle.

you fake a wince, holding your hand to your chest as if her words shot thorns through your heart. "ouch. you don't think i believe you?"

the soon-to-be trainee only shrugs, moving to lay flat on her back. your room is completely dark, save for the plethora of barely functioning glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. danielle feels your breath fanning her neck. "i do think you believe me."

"but there's no way he actually said that to her."

"you'll really just have to trust me on this one, y/nnie."

there's no response after that. danielle turns her head in your direction, watching your soft features fully relax in dim, pale-green lighting. there have been many times where she has seen this exact scene, from the numerous sleepovers you've had, but this one is different.

danielle fixes your position so that your head is tucked under her chin. she buries her head into your hair.

and it may seem cliché to do this while you're in a peaceful slumber, but she takes the leap of faith anyway. she's not naïve, she can pick up on the hints you drop her. she knows that you stare at her every chance you get, when you think she's not looking. that you do the littlest things for her, that you wouldn't even think of doing for others. that she could tell you to fetch the moon for her, and you'd come back with the whole milky way galaxy in your arms.

and she won't lie; she would do the same. she does do the same.

you, the moon to her sun. her breath of fresh air in a suffocating labyrinth. her source of light in the dark.

"i love you.")

fearing rejection, danielle snuck out in the middle of that night, going back home to pack her bags and catch the earliest flight to korea. to this day, she doesn't know why she did it. spur of the moment? or pure cowardice?

"i miss you so much. i should've stayed," she weeps into the night, wiping hot tears with the dark blue material. it's soaked at this point; she'd need to give it another thorough wash. "do you still love me?"

danielle wonders if you have ever spent a night breaking down under the stars, like she has done many times before. she wonders if her feelings will reach you, if all the things she's told the stars about you have overflowed all the way to where you were.

she gazes up at the sky one last time before shuffling back down to the dorm. her steps feel heavier, and she's exhausted. it feels like she could pass out any minute, but she'd much prefer to do that after she's in bed.

all the lights are off, which means everyone is probably sleeping—it's past midnight, after all. danielle quickly discards the finished lollipop stick and wrapper in the kitchen trashcan, and makes her way over to the corridor leading to their rooms. haerin's door is slightly ajar, an unspoken message of 'if you need me, just come in' that had been established since their trainee days, a habit that started when danielle started opening herself up to the other girls. the younger girl's company is appreciated and very comforting, but she won't need it tonight.

the australian languidly opened her bedroom door, sauntering through the entrance before shutting it behind her with a quiet thud. she maneuvers herself as best as she can through the mess that is her room, making a beeline for her bed. in the process, she bumps into a box with her foot, nearly falling over.

"wha-!" she yelps, taking a moment to catch her breath before her expression softens. she cautiously steps over the box to turn on her desk lamp, then moves the box to the desk to reveal its contents. it's filled with a bunch of her old stuff from australia.

school merch, trinkets and toys, old school projects, and more. what danielle focuses on is the pristine photo album sitting on top of the pile, and upon removing it, an unopened letter.

she can already feel more tears welling in her eyes.

as much as she'd like to go straight to reading the letter, she goes through the photo album first. unsurprisingly, it's full of her baby photos and family pictures. but as the her in the photos got older, she gained a companion... you.

at this point danielle's crying again. she'll have to remind herself to drink water later.

the both of you look so happy. so innocent. you and her covered in mud from that one day at the park. her feeding you ice cream at the local diner. you and her smiling at each other while holding hands. danielle can remember all of these so vividly, especially the latter; it was the day that you jokingly declared that you'd marry her when the two of you grew up.

she sets the album down, still open, to finally read the letter. it's very delicately packed, with 'danielle' written neatly on the front of the envelope. the ink has slightly faded over time, but it's still legible.

"dani,

isn't this so cheesy? writing a letter, i mean. remember when we'd write letters to each other when i was in sydney for like a month? i still have those letters, even though it's been around 4 years. i thought writing a letter would capture my feelings a little more, you know?

i like you. wait, scratch that. i love you. since we were 7, actually. and even after 11 years, my feelings have never faded. they seem to have grown even more since then.

and i'll just say that if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just wanted to tell you. you can just forget this ever happened. but on the off chance that you reciprocate... please come to my door so we can talk. or anywhere, really. maybe we should use a codeword for that situation. how about... "carrot loves moon"? sorry, i just thought of that, haha.

i know you're going away soon. make sure to keep in touch. i wish to stay your best friend forever, so do remember that i'm there for you wherever and whenever. whether its by text, or call. i want you to know that i will be there for you even if its not in person.

good luck, y/n :)"

danielle drops the lined paper onto the table, feeling her knees wobble and causing her to crumple onto the floor from her standing position at her desk. the tears are overflowing once again, and she pulls your hoodie closer to her body. the warmth she once felt, replicating your embrace, is gone.

you, are gone.

danielle had left you.

"are you...?" hyein blinks at danielle, trailing off once she sees the older girl's red, puffy eyes. danielle is one of the last ones to climb into their manager's van, with minji helping her get in.

it's around five am, and the day of the fansign. danielle doesn't remember when she went to sleep, but it was definitely not nearly enough to get her through the day. the first thing on the schedule is go to the salon and stay there for a few hours, then travel to the venue, order some takeout to eat for breakfast, and then get some practice in for the mini performances they're going to do at the signing. another long day, to no one's surprise.

despite the very terrible night she had, danielle manages to muster up a smile for the youngest. "i'm good."

hyein chooses not to comment any further. minji, on the other hand, who is sitting in the seat in front of the australian, turns around and her seat and frowns. "you were crying last night," she points out.

"i was."

it must've been noticeable to the girls staying in the rooms next to hers. she can't help herself though. last night in particular was one of the worst, especially with the discovery of your letter. how... how could she be such an idiot?

minji falls silent. danielle focuses on the passing scenery, a familiar route to the salon. although all she can really see are buildings, buildings, and... more buildings. hyein reaches over and gives her hand a light squeeze. the warmth of her hand makes her smile.

"let's go on a picnic on our next free day, are you up for it unnie?" the youngest whispers.

she turns to meet the girl's enthusiastic, but comforting gaze. "of course," she whispers back. "we can eat those strawberries we picked recently, too."

as per usual, hyein's eyes sparkle at the mention of strawberries. it's cute, and seems to cheer up danielle instantly. "and we can have carrots and cherries too! i'm so excited, dani-unnie..."

hanni and minji giggle quietly at their hushed conversation. hyein always knows how to brighten up the girl's day. it's haerin and hyein who are the certified dani-cheerer-uppers, but haerin is asleep in the passenger's seat.

the van pulls over to a secluded parking lot. danielle squeezes hyein's hand before they have to exit the vehicle. "i'm excited too! here's hoping there's nice weather soon. it's been kind of gloomy all week... i miss the sun."

the youngest beams at her. she reciprocates the gesture, this time being the first genuine smile in weeks.

maybe today will be a good day.

danielle's been getting bad vibes today.

she just can't put her finger on it. from the moment that the group set foot in the venue for the fansign, she's been getting this... unsettling feeling swirling around in her gut. but it doesn't make any sense. their trip to the salon went by faster than usual, meaning they had a considerable amount of time to enjoy breakfast, and have time to kill before they had to go up to practice. practice, by the way, went perfectly.

so why did she have this dreading feeling spreading throughout her body?

"you seem fine to me," haerin rests the back of her hand on danielle's forehead.

they both frown. "but then why's it burning?"

minji approaches the pair. they're in the green room, which is more lavish than any of the girls expected before coming here. although, the fluorescent lights are pretty blinding, that being something everyone can agree with. "what's burning?"

danielle scrunches up her face and rests a hand over her stomach, but switches to cover her heart. "somewhere between here and here. but i don't know what it is."

"it's not too warm in here, is it?" the older asks, looking around.

the cat-eyed girl blinks, "it's pretty cool in here, actually. do you feel warm, dani-unnie?"

danielle shakes her head. she doesn't feel neither cold nor warm; her outfit for the day does well to balance her temperature, so her issue is definitely internal. something's about to happen, she can feel it. literally.

a staff member peeks their head in the doorway. "newjeans, up in five minutes!"

oh well. guess the only way to find out is to face it.

"i really loved your lines in the title track, danielle!" an excited fan smiles as she shakes their hand.

despite her earlier struggle, danielle gives them a wide smile. interacting with her fans is one of her favorite things, they just mean the world to her. "thank you so much! i really liked my lines, too, especially in the bridge."

the fan enthusiastically agrees, and they both talk about their favorite songs on newjeans' 2nd full album, and also about danielle's latest appearance on 'chuu can do it'.

that's when she feels it again. that burning feeling in her gut. she glances around without turning her head, and she spots something—or rather, someone—taking their seat at the start of the table, in front of minji. no, it can't be, can it?

the line moves up and the closer the person gets, the more danielle's heart thuds against her chest. she tries to focus on the fan in front of her, but she can't help but sneak glimpses of the person every so often. when they get to hanni, it starts to get clearer and clearer.

your voice. your eyes, your lips, your everything.

danielle can't breathe.

"thank you," she chokes out, "for your support," she manages to grin at the fan as they get up to return to their seat. they look like they're about to say something, but the timer goes off and they have to leave with a look of concern.

thump. thump. thump.

you're looking down as you slide over with the signed album, one member's signature missing from the front.

suddenly danielle can feel herself be transported back to when she was 17. 17, at the beach with you, her pair of sneakers in one hand and your hand in the other. 17, at sunrise, the tide just barely grazing her feet, the wind tousling up her wavy hair. it's comforting just being in your presence; there's no words needed to be said.

tears well up in her eyes for what feels like the millionth time this week, and she narrowly catches the bite of your lip.

it takes her a moment, but she's able to say a single word. she's said it before, hundreds of thousands of times, but it's her first time saying it to you directly in six years.

your name. it's a beautiful name, she's thought that it was a beautiful name from the moment she met you. in fact; it was the first thing she had ever said to you, back when you and her were at the unruly age of six.

"y/n," she croaks out through the tears.

there's a stroke of hesitation in your eyes when you look up to meet her gaze.

the seconds go by slowly. your staring lasts for what seems like hours. danielle can only get so lost in your eyes before she says something she'll regret.

then, you spoke. "hi, dani."

dani. everyone calls her dani. but the nickname has always rolled off your tongue so nicely. it's music to her ears—both your voice and the way you say her name.

the conversation falls silent. she can briefly hear hyein's laugh two seats over, before she swallows thickly.

she has to say something. you don't seem like you're going to say anything, so she has to. she absolutely can't waste this moment. think, danielle, think! what's something that she could... say...

"carrot loves moon," she blurts out at the speed of light.

you're taken aback, she can see that. danielle almost wants to get up and run all the way back to the dorm so she can scream into her sun plushie. almost. but she takes a deep breath and repeats the codeword, firmly this time.

"carrot loves moon."

you move to rest your hand over hers, but stop midway. danielle's heart breaks at the action.

"dani..."

do you not love her anymore? did you really just come here as a fan? not to rekindle your relationship with her?

"let's talk, um, y/n. later. i, um," she coughs. her face feels like it's on fire right now. "here's my number," she whispers as she scribbles down the digits on a piece of paper she had in her pocket.

you reluctantly take the now folded note from her hold, fingers brushing against hers in an electrifying spark. you both flinch from the shock, and it causes her to widen her eyes.

instead of awkwardly brushing it off like she thought you would, though, you start laughing. and god, did danielle miss your laugh. it's her favorite sound, it's always been.

"sorry, sorry." you breathe out, after your laughter fizzes out.

you reach out to rest your hand on hers, not pausing this time. your hands are so warm.

and this time, you purposely turn your head so that you're staring into her eyes.

"i missed you, dani. i... i missed us."

'i missed you so much that i cried every night i was away from you, as a trainee. i missed you so much that i ruin your favorite hoodie with tears every time i wear it. i missed you. and i really, really want to kiss you, now more than ever because i missed all those chances back when we were in school,' she wants to say. but the clicks of cameras and fans cheering (minji and haerin probably did a pose together) remind her that you're at a fanmeeting. and that hanni and the fan in front of the vietnamese may as well be listening in on your conversation.

"i missed us too. and especially you..."

the ten second warning gets called, and you squeeze her hand tightly before slowly getting up with your signed album, still missing danielle's signature. wait, she forgot to sign it!

before you go, you pull out the folded note and flash a thumbs up with a small, crooked smile. danielle smiles back, wiping her tears and waving.

beside her, hanni looks at the other australian with her mouth agape.

danielle has a lot of explaining to do. but, she has other things to do. like texting you as soon as the fansign is over.

danielle loves the moon more than the moon will ever know.

the ride home is silent, again. it's an unspoken agreement—to wait until they got to the apartment before they talk about what happened today. danielle barely pokes at the food they order post-fansign, but even now she's not hungry quite yet.

every five seconds she checks her phone for any notifications from you. there hasn't been anything yet. any other day of thinking about you would've led to a more plaintive, gloomy danielle. but today...

"we're here," their manager turns to the girls. it's nearing sunset, since the fansign lasted three hours and they had a late lunch, chatting for around an hour during. after that they had a couple of errands to run so the newjeans members are all pretty exhausted.

the manager opens the door for haerin, who is sitting in the passenger's seat, and then goes to open the sliding door for the rest of the group.

they all follow their manager to the entrance. then once they're inside, they follow minji to rhe living room where they all took their respective seats: minji and hanni on the main couch, haerin and hyein on the beanbags, and danielle on the floor facing the two eldest.

"so," minji crosses her legs. hyein and haerin watch her and follow suit. hanni looks away to hide a chuckle.

danielle adjusts her position, sitting criss-crossed on the fluffy rug. it's soft on her legs, and she drags her hand back and forth against it absentmindedly.

hanni leans forward, hands on her knees as she gets awfully close to the younger girl. "that was y/n, wasn't it."

"your y/n," minji adds.

her y/n. it makes her giddy just thinking about it.

"stop giggling," the vietnamese groans, "we need to talk about this!"

danielle's phone buzzes, and she pulls it out to check without answering hanni. hyein notices this and snatches it out of her grip.

"hyeinie!" she whines, "what if that was-"

the younger squints at the screen, "it's just an ad..."

hanni clears her throat, making everyone direct their attention to her. minji furrows her brow, "if that was your y/n, then shouldn't we deserve at least some kind of explanation of your history together?"

something falls from the kitchen. danielle rises to go check it out, but haerin holds her down like a security guard at an interrogation.

"we grew up together," she surrenders. it was no use trying to escape at this point.

so she tells them everything. everything. from your bright and energetic first meeting, to the sleepover that was the calm before the storm, to the tear-stained letter and to your sweater she still needs to wash. every word that comes out of her mouth has a touch of fondness; now that she's been able to see you, it's less of sorrowfulness that is resting on her tongue, and more of a bittersweet drop of reminiscence.

everyone is left speechless when she finishes her recounting of her life with you. it's unsurprising; danielle has never talked about you much aside from your name and old mementos she kept. it has ventured into more of a foreign topic, unsure of whether or not they're ready to venture into the unknown that is you.

"dani..." hanni kneels on the floor next to the girl, capturing her in a comforting embrace. soon the other girls join in, and it becomes a soothing group hug—something danielle needs very much. the weight of the hug is enough to break down her vulnerable walls, and all of the pent-up emotions that have aged well over the years flow out like a mountain river.

for the first time, danielle has truly opened herself up to her friends.

time slows, and they're stuck in the same position for more than a few moments. hanni, minji, haerin, hyein—they've been patient with her for more than five years, been there for her at her lowest, and cheer her up when she needs it. danielle's crying not only because she told the truth, but because of how supportive her friends are. through grueling practice sessions, tough stages, colds and flus, lyrics and songs. their embrace only confirmed it: no matter what, they've got each others' backs.

"thank you," she sniffles but groans slightly. it hurts a little since hyein is squeezing her from the back, and it's gotten hard to breathe with so many people compressed together, but danielle wouldn't have it any other way. "i love you guys."

she gets a variety of responses: 'i love you too' (minji), 'i love you more' (hanni), 'i love you most' (hyein), and a soft squeeze on her forearm (haerin) and it makes her laugh out loud.

the hug is broken, and teary smiles are shared throughout the group. the two eldest get up and make their way to the kitchen, and hyein goes along with them. danielle moves to the main couch, and haerin follows after. she rests her head on the feline's shoulder, who promptly begins to play with her hands. hanni and minji's bickering serves as white noise to the pair.

danielle almost forgets about your incoming text. almost. that is, until hyein yells from the kitchen, disrupting whatever deep slumber the australian was about to fall into.

"you got a text, unnie!" the maknae stumbles back into the living room. she has a manic look in her eyes, which quickly spread to danielle, and she gets her phone back. the remaining two girls come in after, and they're now surrounding her around the couch.

unknown number hey it's y/n

it's just a simple greeting, but it makes danielle kick her feet against the sofa in excitement.

she glances around to the other girls, "what, what do i say!?"

"just say hi back!" she receives from minji. before she could type out a response, though, you text again.

unknown number this is the right number right?

danielle feels traces of movement behind her, and she looks to see it's hanni and minji (are we surprised?) leaning too far forward in order to see her phone screen. she instantly shoos them back with a wave of her hand.

you HI hi yes it's dani!

she changes your contact name. beside her, haerin gives her a side-eye.

ynnie hi dani

("move over!" hanni shoves minji to the side.)

"ask for a picture!" minji advises. danielle cocks her head to the side curiously.

"why?"

"for the profile picture...?"

you sry could you send a pic? for your contact photo ynnie oh ok [attachment: 1 image]

a wave of warmth washes over danielle's face. it's a selfie of you taken from what looks to be the sofa of a decent hotel room, with you sporting your signature smile (you still have those dimples!) and holding up the classic v-sign. she squeals with a way-too-happy smile on her face.

"they're so cute!"

(obscured from her view due to her outburst, haerin and minji shake their heads in sync.)

ynnie id ask for a pic too but you're everywhere on the net haha actually can you send one? you i thought i was everywhere on the net? ynnie exclusive selfie...

danielle's giggles get more and more obnoxious. it makes hanni groan and feign a gag.

you you just want me all to yourself don't you 🤭

you don't respond for a few seconds. oh no. is that too much? you just reunited a few hours ago, she should've waited at least a little longer before talking to you like that!

ynnie yeah i do

hanni makes an exaggerated groan and faceplants into the couch. haerin grins, although she can't tell whether or not it's at her conversation with you, or hanni's theatrical reaction. it's probably the latter.

ynnie you wanted to talk right?

her phone is snatched out of her grip again. hanni types away on the device, to danielle's horror.

"what are you doing!?"

"you guys are taking too long!" she's handed back the phone to see what the older girl sent. oh crap.

you can i call u?

"what the hell unnie!" danielle stands up in protest. the culprit gives her a toothy grin. she takes back whatever nice thing she's said about hanni pham so far. as she's about to start chasing her around the spacious living room, her phone rings. did you... actually call?

not wanting everyone to interrupt, she makes a wild dash to her room and locks the door behind her in a rush. her hands shake as she hovers her index finger over the green 'answer' button.

"hello?" your voice crackles out from her phone speaker. it's a relief to hear you once again. danielle sits on the edge of her bed, taking a nearby stuffed animal and using it as a stress toy. it's a blonde hamster plushie with a two-toned backwards cap on, one that hyein earnestly worked for at the claw machines while they were in japan. danielle can still remember the pride displayed on the youngest's face when she held it out for her to take.

"hi, y/n. again..."

"did you... need something?"

you sound really tired, and your voice is really raspy. like you just woke up from a really good nap. now danielle feels bad, all because hanni decided to tell you to call her. speaking of naps, images of your sleeping form at the sleepover flash in her mind and her face burns red.

"u-um," she hums softly. she can't think of anything to say, so she hopes her hesitance to answer pushes you to read her mind from the other side. and it seems to work, because you talk before she could go into some incoherent rant about everything and nothing.

"where did you want to meet? oh, actually, i found a nice and quiet café earlier today. it's kind of tucked in a corner and there weren't that many people there... maybe because it was early. but we could go if you're down."

danielle leans back to lay on the bed. she keeps the hamster plush close to her, lightly kicking her feet against the mattress. "that, that sounds good. send me the location?"

"sure. when are you free?"

she stopped to think. her and hanni have a photoshoot for vogue the next day, but the day after that, saturday, she's free.

"saturday."

"it's a date, then." and you hang up.

danielle hides her face behind her hands and squeals. the bed has sunken where she's been kicking her feet, and the hamster plushie that hyein gifted her... the poor thing, its face is also sunken in from her squeezing.

sorry, benedict.

danielle can't focus.

"let's take five! hopefully you can get yourself together, danielle-ssi."

the staff helping with the shoot disperse into groups, some lingering off to the side to chat and some going to the refreshment stands.

hanni presses her lips in a thin line, resting her hand on danielle's exposed shoulder. "look bro, i know you can't wait to meet y/n tomorrow but we have to get this done. the sooner we finish, the sooner you can go home and rest up, yeah?"

of course danielle wants to finish the shoot. she feels bad that her lack of focus is causing everyone inconvenience, yes, but when she thinks about meeting you tomorrow she just freezes up. the mood of your conversation yesterday was lighthearted, but what they're going to talk about at the café is anything but.

in less than a minute, some staff come back to touch up the girls' makeup. hanni takes it as an opportunity to continue the conversation. "it's not like you're on bad terms now? i mean, even after the dramatic reunion at the fansign, you talked just fine over the phone."

hanni is right, they did talk fine while texting and during the call. it almost felt like danielle was still in highschool, talking to you late at night while exchanging cringy lines bordering flirtation and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. but that was over the phone and she has to meet you in person. and it's different from the fansign because you're going to be seeing her one-on-one for longer than just two minutes.

the older girl snaps her fingers, bringing danielle out of her internal monologue. "you're overthinking it," she sighs, "i wish y/n could just tell you that everything is okay instead of you failing to gaslight yourself."

danielle's phone dings, and she whips it out faster than the other girl can even blink. hanni stares in disbelief.

ynnie hey still on for tmr?

and just like that, five words from you have turned danielle into a blushing schoolgirl once again.

you yes! i'll see u there xx

she suddenly remembers the fiasco that was last night, and she brings her phone out of her member's reach and sends her a dirty look. she raises both of her hands up in defense. the staff move away to re-prepare for the shoot.

"y/n's all yours, girl."

they finish the shoot in record time.

danielle arrives at the café early in the morning, and just as you said, it's almost empty at this time. she's feeling a mix of anxiety and hope, though more the former. she thought that maybe you didn't still... love her, but... well, she doesn't know anymore judging by your responses and texts to her throughout the day.

she adjusts her mask and cap and finds a seat in the corner of the shop, ordering an iced americano and an iced mocha latte. danielle doesn't know if you still favor bitterness over sweetness, but she hopes you appreciate the gesture.

the atmosphere in this place is calming. some slow r&b is playing over the speakers, and someone's typing in another corner serves as makeshift asmr for her ears. she's amazed at how you managed to find such a place on your first visit.

it's only 7:15; she's fairly early to the planned time. she thought it would be nice to walk to the shop and enjoy the city sights before rush hour.

the bells of the entry door toll in the tune of the westminster chime, and it attracts the attention of no one other than danielle. there you walk in, a searching gaze affixed to your eyes, until you eventually meet hers. a slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

"hi," you say, gently sitting down in the seat across from her. danielle pushes the cup of coffee towards you, and you shoot a knowing glance before taking a sip. a satisfied smile fully settles on your face, now. it sends shocks through danielle's heart.

"hi," she echoes, taking a sip of her own drink. "you like bitter right?"

"i love bitter. i can't believe you remember that."

"you'd be surprised."

silence befalls upon them. you take another sip of your drink, and danielle clears her throat, staring down at the table. she can't find it in herself to look you in the eye.

"i'm sorry."

'for not reaching out. for leaving too soon.'

"i'm sorry too."

your apology makes danielle look up in surprise. why are you apologizing? you didn't... you didn't do anything wrong.

"i should've at least tried to reach out," you answer her inner thoughts. the tension grows palpable as danielle tries to sort her words out. she pulls her cap off and sets it on top of her bag.

"it's my fault," she takes a deep breath. "i wasn't supposed to leave that day, you know?"

"i know."

"it's because of what happened at the—"

"—the sleepover," you breathe out, eyes softening when you move to place your hand over hers, albeit shakily. "i heard you."

her eyes widen. you squeeze her hand.

"i wasn't... actually asleep."

"why didn't you..."

"well, i fell asleep right after. and, by the time i woke up you were gone. packed your bags and left."

"i'm sorry," danielle says again. hot tears drip down her cheeks. "i still love you."

the chair screeches and for a second, she thinks you'd gone and left just like she did all those years ago. but you make your way over to her and wipe her tears, bringing her into a tight hug.

"moon loves carrot even more," you let out a watery laugh. "that's what i was going to say if you ever came up to my door and recited those codewords."

danielle would start sobbing if you weren't sitting in a café in the morning. so she does the next best thing and clings onto you even tighter. "i missed you so much, y/nnie. every time i was back home, i'd pass by our school and i'd just start crying. i didn't know if you were still home, and if you were then i've never seen you. not until you came on thursday."

she pulls back from your hug to blow her nose in a napkin. "why did you come?"

you ponder for a moment, drumming the tips of your fingers against the wooden surface. "for the fansign. i'm here for another two weeks."

danielle furrows her brow. that didn't really answer her question. "but why'd you come to the fansign? unless you became a fan. in that case, that's—"

"okay, enough out of you little missy. so what if i became a fan. i came for you, of course."

and she's back to being giddy again. being able to talk to you like this lifts a huge weight off of her shoulders.

"i guess i was just really desperate to reconnect with you. i spent a shit ton of money on a bunch of your new album so i could get in. i got my cousin in on it, too."

you take a big gulp of your coffee. the spot danielle chose wasn't very suitable for combating the heat. it's next to the window, which let the sunlight through, and it's not near any fans or air conditioning. she winces, and tries to cool herself by also drinking her latte. "you did all that? for me?"

you bring your gaze to look deep into danielle's eyes, causing her to shrink back slightly. "i'd do anything for you even now."

"ah," she squeaks out. her mind goes blank and then her thoughts start spiraling.

"wanna come over?" she says hastily, crossing her leg over the other.

you blink back at her in confusion, but your expression morphs into one of intrigue. "sure?"

"wait. not now," she abruptly stands up from her seat. "i need to clean!"

putting her mask and cap back on, she storms out of the establishment, leaving you there in bewilderment.

what did she just get herself into.

"what are you doing here?" is the first thing haerin says to you when she opens the door of their dorm to see your face. you gulp, and the feline smirks inwardly.

"uh, dani," you answer, not wanting to embarrass yourself with your poor korean skills. you could understand a little bit, thankfully more than how you started out, but you couldn't speak well.

haerin glares, looking you up and down. you grimace under her scrutinizing gaze. "you're not going to hurt her, are you?" her voice is stern but holds an immense level of concern for her friend.

widening your eyes, you shook your hands in front of you almost comically. this time, you answer in english. "no! no, none of that. i promise."

she continues to stare at you with a now unreadable expression on her face. that is, until danielle pushes her to the side to greet you with a bright smile.

"come in! i just speed-cleaned my room, that's so embarrassing. haerinnie didn't scare you, did she?"

"i don't know what you're talking about," calls out a voice from the side.

you laugh, shaking your head. "but it did feel like i was being interrogated by the strict parent."

danielle blushes. haerin is so protective of her, even though she's younger.

she takes your hand and leads you to her room. it's spacious, and is very neat. presumably because she just finished cleaning it. splashes of color are placed fashionably around the room, and her bed is filled with fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. benedict is tucked into a sky blue comforter.

"ta-da!" she presents with jazz hands. the gesture makes you chuckle. you walk to her desk and smile, picking up a six year old tear-stained letter. uh oh.

"you kept it," you say wistfully, fingers running over the fading ink. "and," you gasp, holding up the aged sweater, "my favorite sweater!"

"um, sorry for keeping it," she mutters abashedly, wrapping her arms around herself as if she is cold. which is ironic, since they were just in crazily blazing heat.

you approach the girl, draping the mickey mouse sweater back over her chair and reaching up a hand to pinch her cheek. "it's okay. i just wish i could see you in it. i bet you look way better than me."

danielle brings her gaze up to see you, eyes auto-focusing on your lips. uh oh, again. danielle really wants to kiss you.

so she does just that! getting on her tip-toes and cupping your cheeks with her hands so she could press her lips against yours. it's... bitter. from your iced americano. but the feeling of kissing you is extremely pleasant, way better than she's ever imagined. and before danielle could second-guess herself just kissing you out of nowhere, you kiss back and set your hands on her hips, setting another level of magic to danielle's world.

"oh my god," she says breathlessly, hands still on your cheeks.

you lift her up in your arms, causing her to let out a yelp, then carrying her to the bed and laying down next to her with a burst of laughter. "oh my god, indeed."

she turns to face you, a permanent smile on her face. she leans in for another kiss. "i love you."

"like a best friend?"

danielle punches your shoulder.

"ow! sorry! i love you too."

just as she's about to say some more cheesy lines, her door bursts open and four other figures come crashing down into her room. danielle sits up, petrified.

"guys!"

you sigh in content, watching her bicker with her members in a flustered state.

danielle marsh is and will always be your lovergirl.

("you know, for someone who has such a warm personality, i thought your hands would always be warm, too."

danielle looks at you surprised. the two of you are laying in her bed, fingers interlaced, after she successfully drove off her nosy members. "what do you mean?

you bring her hand up to feel against your cheek. her touch is ice cold. the action makes her flush deeply. "you're so cold!" you whine out, "can't you feel so much hotter my face is because your hands are cold!?"

"i—well—maybe you've just been captured by my charms and that's why you're blushing!"

"...touché, dani. still cold, though."

she directs her gaze to her ceiling. there's nothing in particular, unlike your room which had those green glow-in-the-dark stars. "that's why i can't sleep without a heating pad. i'm very cold-sensitive, especially since the ac is always on blast..."

danielle reaches over the side of the bed to pull out the mentioned heating pad. you can just barely see the carrot-patterned heat pack you'd gotten her for christmas, seven years ago.

"you still have this old thing?" you murmur softly.

the girl smiles at you. "cause... it reminds me of you. that's another reason i can't sleep without it."

"..."

you pull her in for a hug, pressing a kiss on top of her head. "i still have that dog plushie you won for me at the fair."

"no. way. really!? it's jerry senior!")

a/n: i hope you're happy guys lovergirl pt2 is FINALLY OUT it was dreadful i fear

#newjeans x reader #newjeans #danielle marsh x reader #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #newjeans imagines #mo jihye x reader #danielle x reader #danielle newjeans #danielle marsh newjeans

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komoboko · 5 months ago

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𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Muichiro tokito x gn!reader ・can be read as platonic or romantic ・heavy angst ・muichiro lives in this scenario hurt no comfort ・major kny spoilers ・major character death

Am I a bundle of joy be honest

The day of your death was something Muichiro didn’t think he would ever forget. Memorization was never his strong suit but he knew this would be something that would haunt him.

He never thought of the possibility of loosing you. He knew the mortality rate in the infinity castle was low, even lower when it came to putting yourself on the front line. He just never thought that you would fall along with the many other slayers that loss their lives that same night. He never thought about coming back home alone, how you wouldn’t be making the journey back to see everybody along with him.

His mind is burnt with the image of your body mutilated, blood poured out of you. There was so much blood, to much where anybody would know you were beyond saving. Uppermoon 1, his ancestor had finally crumbled into dust but at what cost? The cost of you being left to rot on the floor until the castle would crumble and destroy itself underneath its own weight? Why did you have to suffer? Why did you have to leave him behind?

7 days. It’s been 7 days since you died and Muichiro struggles, moving slowly through the stages of grief.

It’s difficult for him to look into any photos that included you. His grief that morphed into anger that he expressed alone in the defeating silence of your room. It hurts him to be in there, the memories of you and your presence weigh him down. He doesn’t want to accept the fact you would never return. That your body would never find peace as it was crumbled and turned to ash. That you had to leave him alone on this earth. It hurt him alot it was difficult for him to handle so much grief. It reminded him of the detain of his brother, a memory he didn’t want to remember either.

Death was something that seemed to follow him. His blood flowed with the remains of the Tsugikuni family lineage. A bloodline that was considered some sort of curse, a force of evil and failure for 500 years. Muichiro only lingers in your room, standing in the middle of the room while his eyes face down on the floor. He didn’t want to look up, be met with photos where your eyes were filled with so much light. He couldn’t find it in him to look at your face, the memory of your body still so fresh inside of his mind. It hurt, a pain he didn’t want to bare.

1 month. It’s been a month since the final night before demons were vanquished. It’s then when muichiro memory problem begins to fail him.

When he looks at flowers his chest stings but he doesn’t know why. He walks past places that feel so familiar to him but he can’t remember why it hurts to be around there. Details about you that used to come to him like second nature slowly seep from his mind. He knows your name, your face, your occupation, your birthday, your death date but after that he doesn’t seem to remember anymore. He knows you but knowing you to such a personal level slowly starts to decline.

Your room is still left untouched despite all of this. Your haori that you left on the bed before you went to the infinity castle still lays there untouched. Everything in place how you left it like you would come back and fix it. It hurts him still to walk in there. A burden in his shoulders, one that he doesn’t know how to get rid of. Death was a heavy weight he’s always has had to carry and he wishes he never had to in the first place.

3 months. Things seem to get worse, Muichiro now begins to question even more about things in his own home.

Your room is some place where he’s filmed with less pain and now more confusion. He looks at the things left inside of your room and wonders why they were there. He stares at pictures of you left in there, he knows who’s in the picture yet he doesn’t know why he has it. He knows it’s you, he remembers you but why were you in his home? Why was there a portrait of you and him together that was left on the counter. Why was there a picture of you left on his bedside table.

He knows he couldn’t forget you, he mustn’t but he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why you play such a signifiant part in the space taken up in his estate. He doesn’t know why you take up such an important place in his heart. Why it hurts so much to see you, even if you look so happy in the picture he has right next to his bed. Why does somebody make him feel so much pain even if he has yet to see them in so long?

6 months. 6 months has gone by since the final battle and muichiro has changed.

Tanjiro who was fully healed now, took the liberty to go and visit muichiro once again. He’s sent him letters in the mail multiple times in the past but it’s always good to see people in person. Tanjiro was happy to see Muichiro outside of his estate, taking up on his request to go out and grab something to eat. Maybe visit some of the now retired hashira’s along the way.

The boy went to muichiro estate to start their trip. He waited by the door for a minute but it wasn’t long for Muichiro to come and open it. He smiled greeting the long haired boy before taking the liberty to step inside. His eyes follow around to see some things have changed. Furniture has moved around and there was boxes near by the door, what tanjiro had assumed was things he planned to get rid off.

His eyes fall onto one box that catches his attention. He strolls over before leaning down to grab a picture that was left on top of the box. Blowing off the dust that covered the photo he found a picture of you. A smile fell on Tanjiro’s face before he turns to muichiro pointing towards the photo. “They were always such a lovely person weren’t they?” Tanjiro says looking down at the photo catching Muichiro’s attention.

Muichiro only stares at the photo in Tanjiro’s hand. His face blank, a usual expression to be seen on his face. Muichiro stays quiet for a moment before opening his mouth, he only had one thing to say.

“Who?”

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justmeinadaze · 3 months ago

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I'm In Control: 5 Years Later (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Pornstars Steddie (Daddy Steve & Sir Eddie) X Porn Agent Sub Fem Reader, SMUT, dp, praising, light hair pulling, after care of course, FLUFF, they love each other, mentions of kids, a bit more emphasis on the readers relationship with TJ.

ANGST! ANGST! ANGST!

Protective Steddie! Reader gets assaulted and hurt by the head of a studio she has a meeting with. The attack itself isn't described in detail. Just mentions of the after math (gets a cut on her head). She mentions feeling uncomfortable with the questions the man asks and tells them how he hit her before she ran out of there. Definite trigger warning for anyone who has been in a similar situation.

TJ and Steddie get revenge showing what happens when you "hurt their girl". Reader briefly discusses how the situation reminds her of her life with her religious parents and feeling stuck or trapped. They remind her that she's safe and they will always protect her <3.

Brief mentions of Steddie's fear of being a father. Very brief.

I think that's it.

Word Count: 5493

Full Series Here/ Donate to Me <3

As you watch both men on set, you can’t help but bite your lip as you try to stifle the moan that wants to break free.

It had been 5 years since TJ let you go to start your own agency and you took off running fairly quickly. You started small in the room the boys had created for you as a work area, managing your three clients as you normally had. As soon as you had enough money and more people to manage, you were able to hire another agent. Someone you vetted personally to make sure they would take good care of their clients and not abuse their trust for financial gain.

After a couple years, you purchased you own floor within a building and renovated it to fit your needs. Currently, you had four agents with 5 clients a piece and you always made sure everyone was comfortable and helping where you could while still managing the men you loved. Avery trusted your judgement when you suggested he work with one of the new people you hired but Eddie and Steve were steadfast on the notion that they didn’t want anyone but you looking after them.

Over the past couple years because of how much they were making, they were able to cut down on how many projects they worked and when they did do them it was triple what they made financially in the past. Eddie was able to focus more on his music and found a good fan base on social media that seemed to genuinely care about what he was playing. Steve seemed to push more towards the technical aspect of films with his free time, asking photographers a ton of questions to learn what he could. For his birthday you bought him a camera and he utilized your gift to do photoshoots for some of the newer actors and actresses who needed headshots to find work.

You still came to the shoots when you could especially when they were filming a scene together like today. As Steve slammed his release into the man below him, Eddie spilled onto the sheets in front of him while his tongue continued to rapidly flick at the clit in front of his face till the actress trembled and screamed obnoxiously in pleasure.

“Cut! Good job everybody. That’s wrap for the day and I’ll call you guys if we need any reshoots.”

“Thanks Cal.”, Eddie beamed as they both sauntered your way. “Baaaaby.”

It was no longer a secret within the industry that were dating the hottest stars in porn especially now that you were your own agent and you appreciated being able to have regular couple PDA instead of hiding your relationship.

“You guys did so good.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss both their lips. “Are you ready to head home?”

“Yeah, we just need to grab our things. You don’t need to go by the office or anything?”, Steve asks.

“Hm not tonight.”, you answer as you watch them get dressed near their bags. “I’m still waiting for a call from Diamond Studios. The owner has phenomenal productions and I would love to get some clients in that door.”

“They’ll call, baby. They’d be insane not to.”, the metalhead praises as they take your hands in theirs and you head towards your car.

***

Steve softly grins at you as your eyebrows scrunch together while sorting through some of your work documents in your shared bed. They were always attracted to your work ethic and need to make sure everything goes smoothly. They experienced it first-hand since day one and it was one of their favorite things about you.

Dipping towards his nightstand, he grabs his camera, focusing it and taking a picture of you without you realizing until you hear the little click sound.

“Steve.”, you giggle. “What are you doing? I’m a mess!”

“I think you look beautiful; wearing one of Eddie’s shirts with your hair up in that ‘I’m trying to focus’ messy hair bun.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly kick him with your foot as you both laugh and the metalhead tosses a grin your way.

“Hey. Come here, sweetheart, and look at this.”

As you curl up closer to Eddie’s side, he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and adjusts the laptop he had been staring at for a while so you could take a look. On the screen was a gorgeous one-story, four-bedroom house with a lot of square feet that expanded the length of what seemed like a property near the beach.

While flipping through the individual photos, both men commentated on every one.

“That would be a good home office for you, honey. You can keep the window open and listen to the waves.”

“I can use this room for my guitars and recording when I work on my music.”, Eddie adds. “This basement area here Steve can use for his photography developing and equipment.”

“Oh, baby, look. We could sit on that patio at night and just relax.”, the other boy grins as he leans against your bicep.

“It is a beautiful home.”, you smile. “Whose is it?”

“Ours.” Their eyes watch as you sit up and furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “If you really do like it, of course.”

“Eddie… this is a beach front property. It’s most likely super expensive.”

“Not super expensive but it definitely had a price tag. With Steve and my income alone we were able to put a good chunk of money down. I just got the email from the realtor and they said we could move in within a couple of months.”

“But…I…” Your mind continued to reel as you tried to comprehend what was happening. “We don’t need thatmuch space. You know I can work from anywhere in the house and what would that additional room be for?”

“We were thinking our kids.”

You blinked and exhaled heavily at his words.

“Baby, Steve and I have been thinking about this for a while. You’ve been with us through everything for the last 5 years and our porn careers are at the highest they’ve ever been. Now we want to experience the rest of our lives with you and that includes a family.”

“Not right now of course but whenever you’re ready, baby girl.”, Steve coos as he brushes some of your hair behind your ear so they can see more of your face.

“I didn’t think either of you would want to have kids with me.” Genuinely taken aback by your statement, they sit up and turn their bodies more to face your direction. “I’m sorry… I know it’s been so long since what happened at the wedding but…” At your mention of the event that caused them to lose you for a couple of weeks, they couldn’t help but hang their heads. “… I know you both have come so far when it comes to me and our relationship but since we never really talked about having kids I just assumed after what you told me back then that—”

“We’d be too afraid to have them.”, Eddie finishes for you. “I can understand why you would think that but, honestly sweetheart, when I look at you and think about having a son or daughter I don’t feel any fear.”

“You showed us we can be good men and we know with you by our side, we’d be good fathers.”

Smiling at their answer, you tilt towards them and give them each a soft kiss on the lips.

“Yeah you would. Ok, let’s do it. I think it’s the perfect home for us and our future little family.”

###################

“Steve Harrington why are you taking my picture?”, Eddie chuckles as he strums his guitar.

“Hey, I take pictures of everyone and you’re giving me a good photo op right now.”, the other man grins as he snaps another.

“I think you’re just bored because Y/N’s in her meeting.”, the metalhead teased.

This morning you had gotten a call from the studio you had been waiting to hear from and left in the afternoon to meet with him at his office. Unless they had a gig you scheduled for them, both men usually did their own thing around the house until you came back home or visited you in your office like they used to.

“Hey baby.”, Steve coos as he turns to face the front door when he hears it open before his features fall and Eddie watches him run forward, getting up to hastily follow. “Y/N, what happened?!”

As they skidded to where you were kneeling on the floor, the long-haired boy cupped your cheeks in his palms as his eyes scanned over the blood coming from a cut on your temple near your eyebrow.

“I’ll get the kit.”, the other man declared as he ran towards the bedroom.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything’s ok. You’re safe now.”

Steve slides to the floor again and tears through the box, finding what he needs as he places the cotton on you wound making you wince.

“I know. I know, baby girl, I’m sorry.”

Carefully, Eddie reaches for your blouse but you flinch as you try to lift your arms. Not wanting to cause you anymore pain, the metalhead rips your shirt with his hands and his jaw tightens when he sees the indent of where your shirt had been yanked against your skin.

“What happened, Y/N? Did that fucker hurt you?”

Instead of answering, you tackled your arms around him as you sobbed in his embrace.

***

Without saying a word, Steve opened the door to allow TJ into their home. Your former boss took in the situation before him as he nodded a silent hello to Eddie who was sitting beside you on the couch.

While you were in the shower they called TJ thinking he may be able to get you to tell them what happened since you hadn’t said a word since you came home. He had known you way before you met them and you told them once you thought of him like a father figure so they knew you felt safe with him.

Grabbing one of the dining room chairs, he placed it in front of you and took a seat.

“The guys told me you three were looking into a house by the beach. Good because this house is way too small for you, angel.”, he chuckles as he nonchalantly glances around the living room. “You were always meant for bigger, better things.”

Your bottom lip quivers at his compliment and Eddie tenderly pets your head as Steve’s worried eyes continue to rake over you from his place against the wall.

“I also heard you were trying to get in touch with the owner of Diamond Studios. The guy who started it was a good man before he retired. I never got to meet the man he passed it off to. But you did this afternoon, didn’t you, honey?”

As you nod, you wipe your eyes with your fingers as the tears begin to fall.

“Did you go to the studio?” He blinks and exhales with a bit of relief when you nod again. “Good. I always said, ‘Never meet anyone at their house alone no matter what they say.’”

“H-He lets his employees go at 2pm.”, you whisper.

“Her meeting was at 1:30.”, Steve growled as his fists clenched under his crossed arms.

“When did you start noticing something wasn’t right?”, TJ asked in a comforting tone.

“He asked me questions that w-w-weren’t about my agents. He asked if I’ve ever been in front of the camera and what I enjoyed… I told him if he wasn’t interested in my agents and their clients then I had to leave.”

“Good, good. Then what happened?” As you began to stutter over your words, your former boss grabs your hands and softly holds them in his. “Take your time, angel.”

“H-H-He grabbed my arm when I tried to get up and s-s-said that he knows I want this because…”

“Because you’re with us.”, Eddie finished when you paused.

“We fought and he hit me…”

“Ok, honey. Is that everything?” When you nodded again all three men sighed in relief. “You’re safe, baby, ok?”

You blinked as your eyes met his. TJ always called you angel but only ever called you baby when that protective dad mode kicked in.

Rising to his feet, he tenderly kissed your forehead before gesturing towards the kitchen for the other men to follow.

“Do you know where he is right now?”, Steve grumbled trying to control his temper.

“No but I can find out. Give me 10 minutes.”

His eyes followed you as you ran after both men as they disappeared down the hallway to the bedroom.

“Take me with you.”

“Stay here and we’ll be back in about an hour or so.”, Eddie commanded as if he hadn’t heard you.

“I’m not waiting here while the men I love go out there and defend me. We do things together.”

“This isn’t a fucking date, Y/N. Now, do as we say and stay here.”

“NO, DADDY!” They paused, turning to face you as you screamed their way. “No. That asshole hurt me. I deserve to see you do whatever you two are planning on doing.” Your defiant features began to falter slightly as the tears began to fall again and the metalhead stepped forward to caress your cheek. “I won’t get in the way, Sir, I promise.”

You saw it in their eyes the more you spoke. The titles were in the driver’s seat the moment you stepped through the door. Someone had the audacity to hurt you and they were going to do whatever needed to be done to not only show you that you were safe but to show the outside world what happens when you hurt what’s theirs.

“His name is Bryce Hunter. He’s at a party at some swanky house downtown.”, TJ rolls his eyes. “I can get you in and then after I deliver my message you can deliver yours.”

##################

“Hey, TJ! How are things going, old man.”

All three men were on alert but especially Eddie and Steve as their angry eyes took in their surroundings. Covered in the metalhead’s leather jacket, you kept your head on a swivel as you searched, trying to help them find who they were all looking for.

“Not so good, Trent. Do you know where Bryce Hunter is?”

“Pfft, that asshole.” The man rolls his eyes as he points towards the stairs. “I saw him go upstairs with one of the other actresses.”

After patting his back as if to say thank you, TJ heads that way and begins opening doors with you by his side, murmuring apologies along the way to every unfortunate couple he caught in the act. At the last door he banged open, a man and a woman hastily jump apart as you back up and take Eddie’s hand in yours.

“That’s him.”

“Miss, go ahead and head back downstairs. Trust us, you don’t want to have anything to do with this guy here.”

As she straightens up her dress, her wide eyes meet yours as she takes in the bandage on your face. Nodding her head, you can tell she knows and understands, squeezing your palm on her way out for emphasis before closing the door after she leaves.

“The fuck is—”

TJ’s fist hits Bryce’s face hard and as he falls to the floor you back out of the away as your boys step forward to stand at his side.

“Hey Bryce. My name is TJ. I don’t think we’ve met yet but I assure you that you are never going to forget my face.” He punches him again and grabs his collar, yanking him up right. “You see that girl over there? Not only did I train her to be the agent and company owner she is today but I’d like to think of her as part of my family. You hurt someone in my family, Bryce.”

“I-I-I—”

“Congratulations, we’re going to make an example out of you tonight. If you or any other person even thinks about touching Y/N Y/L/N, we’ll be by to visit again and we won’t be so nice. Most people in the industry here already know that but just in case can you double check?”

“Y-Y-Yes, sir. I’m…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, Bryce. Yes, you did.” TJ rises to his full height and gestures towards the man on the floor. “All yours, gentlemen.”

“Wait! Wait, I thought—”

“You thought wrong.”, Steve growled as he grabbed the man’s collar and punched him hard.

Your former boss gave you a small smile as you silently thanked him before closing the door behind him.

***

The entire car ride back home was silent but every mile that passed you felt the energy get thicker and thicker with need. The way their dominance oozed while protecting you drove you insane especially when they spoke.

“You had the fucking audacity to put your hands on any woman but especially ours.”, Eddie grumbled as he kicked Bryce’s stomach. “She deserves respect.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”, he cried.

“Oh no, little boy. Are you crying? Are you scared? Probably about as scared as she was when you told her she was a whore and hit her across the face.”, Steve seethed through clenched teeth. “If I were you, I would beg her for forgiveness because your fate is in her hands.”

Bryce’s wide eyes flicked between you and the other two men.

“You don’t want that up to us. If we had it our way, you’d be in the fucking hospital by now. What do you think, baby? Has he been punished enough?”

When all you do is glare his way, he begins to plead desperately.

“Please, Y/N. I’m so sorry. Nothing like this will ever happen again. I promise. I learned my lesson.”

“You’re right, it won’t. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure your studio is shut down and you never hurt anyone else again.”

“NO! Y/N, please, I can’t—”

When he ran forward, Eddie grabbed his collar and threw him back to the ground.

“You should have thought about that before doing what you did and we’re going to help her follow through with that.”

As he kicked him again, your hand reached out to grab his arm.

“That’s enough, Sir.” His chest puffed out as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale, desperately wanting to hurt this man more. Facing Steve, his equally rage filled eyes seem to calm as they meet your softer ones. “I think we’ve punished him enough this way, Daddy.”

Blinking, he curtly nodded and took your other hand as you three walked back out into the party.

Pausing in the doorway of your house, your palm tugged their arms causing them to stop and look your way. You had closed your eyes to try and suffocate the tears that had begun to fall, frustrated at the feeling of being helpless.

“You’re not weak.”, Eddie murmured as he stepped towards you. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I’ve known you for almost six years and I’m 100% positive that you went in there was the same strength and power you always carry. Don’t let a fucker like him make you think you’re anything but.”

Taking your hands in his, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You’re also not weak for being scared. Someone tried to belittle and hurt you. He put his hands on you…”, he growled, closing his mouth as he exhaled through his nose making you cup his face in your palms.

“Is it werid that…I was more afraid for you? I don’t want you to get hurt or lose everything because of me…”

“Baby girl…we would give up everything willingly for you if it meant keeping you happy and safe. You think we care about our fucking careers or anything else more than you? No, little miss. If we ever lost you…” As Steve’s eyes close and his head tilts, you quickly jump into his arms as he holds you tightly. “Fucking asshole is lucky we didn’t fucking kill him.”

Your lips almost desperately crash to his as the needy energy within you implodes. Steve blindly carries you towards the nearest flat service he can find and places you on the kitchen counter as you hastily tug at his belt buckle trying to free his cock from its confinement.

It’s a bit manic the way you pull off your shorts and panties while clinging to his collar to bring him as close to you as possible. You hadn’t even removed Eddie’s jacket loving the heavy comfort it brought you but you needed more. Spitting into your own palm, Steve groaned as you stroked along his length before slowly guiding him into your core.

His large hand takes hold of your lower back, bringing you closer to the edge of the counter as he rolls his hips at a needy pace. Your arms wrapped around him as he rested his head in the nook between your neck and shoulders. With every slap of his hips, his warm breath would warm your skin as he panted out a groan.

“I love you, Daddy, so much.” In response, Steve’s lips attached to your throat as his tongue grazed your flesh. “Thank you for protecting me and taking care of me.”

At your praise, his rhythm increased as he pounded his cock deeper into your cunt eliciting a loud mewl that had you biting into his shoulder.

“Fuck.”, he whimpered as his fingers threaded through your hair and pulled lightly as he felt your body tremble against his as you came.

Tilting your head back, his lips sloppily kissed yours and you hummed at the taste before you felt him back away and ring covered fingers gripped your thighs as you were lifted once more.

Eddie had already removed his shirt and as your nails dragged down his chest he couldn’t help but moan as he carried you halfway down the hallway before stopping to press your back against the wall.

Just as you had done with Steve, you circled your limbs around his neck and the metalhead kept one hand on you as he choppily pulled down his shorts just enough for his cock to spring free. Ever the master of his craft, Eddie utilized his hips to guide himself inside you and adjusted you around his waist.

“Mmph—I love you, Sir. I a-always feel safe with you, baby. Thank you. I’m so happy I belong to you both.”

His grunts had your eyes rolling closed as he continuously hit that sensitive spot inside you that only they could every reach. That desperate feeling washed over you again and you held on to him with all the strength you had as your maneuvered your hips to meet his animal-like thrusts with ones of your own.

As the coil snapped, you rode out your high and whimpered his title till the ecstasy subsided. Pushing his face into your neck, you petted his head as your soft voice hit both their ears.

“I didn’t get scared until he grabbed my shirt. I thought I could talk my way out of the situation like I had done before when I was uncomfortable but when I started to leave and he grabbed me…” When your voice cracks, Eddie leans back so he can see your face as your eyes meet his own. “I know it sounds dramatic but when he hit my head and I hit the floor…all I could think about was you and Steve. How you’d be alone and hurting if I didn’t…make it back home.”

As you sobbed, the metalhead pressed you tightly to his chest and carried you to your bedroom with the other man close behind. After fully undressing you and laying you between them, their lips gently kissed your skin as their hands pet your head or rubbed along your arms.

After lifting one of your legs over his waist, Eddie and Steve guided themselves into your body and a heavy exhale mixed with a mewl left your lips. This is how it was supposed to be; the three of you together.

Between them and tangled in their arms is where you felt the safest.

“I’m so sorry this ha-happened, sweetheart.”, Eddie groaned. “Something like that will never—mmm—never happen again.”

“Because now they know…”, Steve followed. “…what will happen when they fuck with our girl.”

“Ours.”, you repeat as your fingers hold the man’s hand while cupping the metalhead’s cheek with your other.

“Yeah, little miss. Ours. Fuck.”, the long-haired boy whimpered as his lips met yours and both their rhythms matched as they pounded into you, their cocks abusing all of your sensitive areas as you became putty in their grasp.

“M’gonna cum, Sir. Please, baby, j-just like that. Can I—”

Eddie’s aggressive nodding cut off your question and your face pressed into his shoulder as you let go, clenching around him as you came. He soon followed with a strained sounding grunt as fingers tangled in your hair and his hips sputtered as he filled you up.

“C-Cum…Cum, Daddy. Please…I need you to.”

Steve’s sweaty body presses flat against yours as he rolls his hips roughly till you feel his release warm your insides.

Nobody moved as you listened to their breathing slowly return to normal. After a while, they carefully pulled out of you and turned on the shower, waiting for the steam to rise before stepping side. A small smirk painted your lips as they descended on to the tile floor with you in tow, choosing not to even ask this time if you wanted to sit.

Steve delicately ran a rag over your body but your hand abruptly grabbing his gave him pause as you looked over his knuckles.

“Does it hurt?”, you ask in a curious, little voice that tells them you haven’t fully exited the headspace yet.

“No, honey. I mean, it stings a little but probably nothing compared what that asshole is feeling.”

Before you can get the chance, Eddie flashes you his hands to show you the minimal cuts he was now donning on his own knuckles.

“My rings took a lot of the impact. When I get into a fight I usually take them off to be fair but this fucker hurt our girl. He doesn’t get fair.”

You nod as your eyes fell and you curl up into his chest.

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

“I…I didn’t like the way he made me feel vulnerable. It…made me feel like…when I was a kid and my parents would scold me and my brother about being evil. He kind of…mentally pushed back…to a place I long let go of…”

Turning off the water, both men helped get you dry and placed you on the counter by the sink so they could look over your own wounds.

“We can understand that. When your vulnerable with us, you’re still in control. You know we would never hurt you. With your family and then Bryce…you felt trapped.”, Eddie explained, validating your feelings as he brushed your hair away from your face so he could place a new bandage on your cut. “Don’t ever forget, sweetheart, that you always have us. No matter where you are, you’ll never be trapped or stuck because we’ll come save you.”

“Kind of sounds like we’re the mob.”, Steve chuckles as he watches his friend cover the gauze with a band aid before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Hey now, Stevie.”, Eddie responds with a fake gangster voice that makes you giggle. “This is our baby girl and NO ONE hurts our girl or else they swim with da fishes, ya hear?”

You’re still laughing as he lifts you in his arms and carries you back to bed.

#############

3 Months Later

“Lucky, slut! Then again, I can never sit still long enough to have a home let alone one by the beach. Lol. It’s a beautiful view, Y/N. I can’t wait to come and visit.”

You grin at your brother’s text as you place the phone down on the table and lean back in your chair to admire your nighttime view of the beach setting in front of you. You three, TJ, and Avery had spent all day moving your things from their house to this new one as well as any of the new furniture you bought on the guy’s instance for the new space to feel more like a home.

“Alright, I think that’s everything. Now you just need to have a homecoming party to christen it.”, your former boss beams as he takes a seat beside you and takes a sip from the beer in his hand.

“I believe it’s called housewarming, not homecoming.”, you giggle.

“Eh, tomato ta-ma-toe.”, he shrugs before gesturing towards your phone. “I, uh, heard that Bryce Hunter was fired from Diamond Studios and a new head took over the company.”

“Huh. You don’t say.”, you playfully pout as you tilt your head.

“Yeah, some kid is in charge of the studio now. Avery something, I think.”

“What did I do?”, the man inquires as he takes a seat near you.

“Look, I just made a call to some people and suggested an amazing young man who I knew could handle a business like that and would be respectful of all the people in the productions.”

“Oh, you’re talking about Y/N getting me the job of head of Diamond Studios.”, Avery giggled as TJ jokingly rolled his eyes.

“Nothing gets past you, kid.”

“Oh, don’t act like you aren’t proud of him. We both know you have a kind heart, old man.”

When your eyes meet his, you deliver him a soft smile silently thanking him for everything he’s done for you and in return he reaches over and tenderly pats the back of your hand.

“Shit! Steve, get your camera. TJ’s showing affection.”, Eddie shouts as he tosses a pizza box onto the table as your boss lets you go and sighs.

“See? This is why I don’t tell you people anything.”

Steve lifts you out of your seat to take it and pull you on to his lap.

“Thank you guys for helping us move. We really appreciate it.”

While everyone talks and enjoys the meal, you take in your little chosen family. Your parents always believed that certain behaviors were sinful yet from an early age none of it made sense to you. To you, these four men were angels and you had no idea where you would be without them. They made you feel loved unconditionally and you trusted them with every fiber of your being. You felt safe and protected which is something you never had growing up.

“Hey, you. Everything ok?”, Eddie asked later that night while you were in bed staring out the sliding glass door that led to the patio outside.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you two and the guys.”, you sigh pleasantly, giggling when tattooed arms wrap around your tummy and spin you to the middle of the mattress where Steve lays on the opposite side.

“Hey. You deserve this.”, he grins as he gestures absently around the room. “You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.”, you smile back as you kiss his lips.

“Trust us, princess. We’ve never been happier. You changed our lives, baby, and for the better.”

Tilting your head back you kiss the metalhead’s lips as well as he yanks you closer to his chest.

“Speaking of ‘baby’. When, um, when did you guys want to…I mean when were you thinking…?”, you stutter making their grins grow.

“Whenever you want, little miss.”

“I can schedule an appointment with my doctor to get off the birth control but whose, um,…”

“Oh my God, Eddie look. The porn agent is blushing at the word sperm. That’s so cute.”, Steve teases as you cover your face with your palm trying to hide.

“No, sweetheart, no don’t hide. Harrington and I planned this out. We’re going to duke it out battle of the death style and whoever is still standing gets to give you sperm.”

They laugh harder when you lightly elbow him in the side and your cheeks get even redder.

“It’s ok, baby. We were thinking since we’d both be dad you know we didn’t need to know. We can just both try… no matter who helped create them they’re ours.”

“Ok. Whatever makes you comfortable.”, you smile, turning red all over again when they both kiss your cheeks.

###################

Im working with an old tag list so bear with me <3

@gracieluvthemoon @e-munson666 @alienthings @lunatictardis

@corrodedcorpses @whoringtonmunswhore @big-ope-vibes

@eddiesguitarskills @brittney69 @mandyjo8719 @hugdealer

@h3llo-k1tt @mynameismothra @local-stoner-bitch

@miarosso @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @arianafreckles

@sweetpuffy12 @mybradforddream @sugar-haus

@manda-panda-monium @justsheerfilth1

@wroteclassicaly @micheledawn1975

@erinsingalong @imogen-m-h @playfuloutcast @spookedbydawn

@cinnamapup @bimbobaggins69

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @skyesthebomb

@sherrylyn628 @eli-flower @aejae-ssi @atomiclilac

@anaibis @chelebelletx @kik51199 @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @hardladyheart

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chaiifluuf · 9 months ago

Text

•°. *࿐ What if all i need is you? — d. osamu

synopsis. after going underground for the time being to leave the port mafia, yours and dazai’s friendship starts to feel like something else

content. gn!reader, spoilers for the dark era/season 2 ep 4, lowercase, comfort, fluff, hcs + one-shot, clingy dazai, lowkey bad writing??

notes. i don’t think i’ve ever been this nervous about posting something ( ; ω ; ), anyways first post and first time attempting to actually write smth so this most likely has grammatical mistakes…

dazai who, after witnessing his best friend’s death, arrived at your doorstep at midnight and without a second thought asked you to run away with him.

dazai who tells you everything that happened and why he is willing to make a change, hoping you will come along with him.

dazai who is deep down desperate for your comfort and touch, your soothing words that somehow always manage to find a way to his heart.

dazai who at one point couldn’t hold it together anymore and spends many nights silently crying into your shoulder, for the first time allowing himself to be vulnerable around you.

dazai who believes he will never be quite enough to deserve your endless amount of care and affection.

dazai who was able to have a full night of near peaceful sleep in a while, all thanks to your warmth and mere presence next to him.

dazai who realises how much you truly matter to him, how he can’t ignore the warm feeling in his chest whenever he sees you, how his body craves for you.

dazai who slowly starts to think that maybe with you he can do this and become the better person who odasaku wished him to be.

the full moon was shining brightly tonight, slightly peeking through the curtains of your shared apartment. the weather is calm, only a soft breeze passing by at times. it’s almost been half a year now since you and dazai went underground and it’s been quiet to say the least. with some help from ango, you were able to find a small temporary apartment in the suburbs, away from the main city.

the first few weeks after agreeing to go with him were rather rough. dazai was uncharacteristically quiet most of the time, his eyes seeming even duller and more distant than usually. it was clear to you how much odasaku’s death had really affected him and you can’t blame him. the best you could do was to tell him it was going to be okay and be there for him in any way needed, a reminder that you’re here to stay.

Another thing you weren’t used to was how clingy he would become.

despite the two of you not being in a relationship, it was almost unreal how touchy you got with each other. Sleeping and basking in each other’s warmth, the lingering touches when the other had to go elsewhere, the small caresses were like a second language for him at this point. and it never made you uncomfortable.

as of now you are finishing watching a film, one that has been sitting in your watchlist for a while now. the ending of it left you a little disappointed but overall it was more than enough to cure your boredom. with a soft sigh, you turn the tv off and place the remote control away.

your gaze drifts down to your chest, a view of familiar brown and soft hair snuggled up to you. he has been practically in the same position for the whole duration you watched the film, a pair of arms securely wrapped around your waist and his head resting against your chest. it's a serene sight.

judging by his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, he seems to be asleep. which is rather rare since the only time he gets actual sleep is late at night if even that. you briefly check your phone and it's barely ten pm. your hand finds itself in his hair, gently brushing through it as you untangle a few knots. it really was beyond your understanding of how soft it is. if you could spend your whole day just caressing his hair you would.

you can’t help but take notice of his features when you brush some of his bangs to the side. he looked absolutely ethereal and it made your heart beat faster without you realising it. you wish he could see himself the way you do. but then again he has said the same thing about you so that’s that. you will never get tired of his peaceful state though, looking as if there is not a single worry on his mind.

more often than you would like to admit, you wonder what you two are. up until running away, you were just close friends with him, friends who got along well. sure there was the typical dazai flirting and petnames here and there but you didn’t think they meant anything further than that. however, overtime you can’t deny the fact you might just have fallen for him.

but now you don’t know. do friends hold each other so intimately? do friends make most of your meals because they know you won’t eat anything else? does a friend look at you so longingly, even if it’s for a split second? and once you ponder about that, you start doubting if he feels the same. what if he doesn’t see you like that? what if he’ll get bored of you eventually? what if—

a small movement from dazai was enough to snap you out of your thoughts. he slightly shifted his position, letting out a faint exhale afterwards.

“‘samu?” you murmur as you stare at him for a little, expecting him to wake up but to your surprise he’s still in his slumber.

there is a certain glint of softness in your eyes before you close them and lightly bury your face into his hair, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo. despite your calm breaths, your mind was still running.

“…i love you.” your voice was barely audible. for whatever reason, you felt the need to say it, the very same three words that have plagued your thoughts for a while now. you know he didn’t hear it but at least that’s what made it easier to say. maybe one day you’ll finally let go of all your doubts and fears and confess to him, telling him how much he really means to you.

“you do?”

your heart drops. for a second you wondered if you really heard that or not. there was no way.

“what?” you respond quietly, almost in disbelief. dazai turns his head to get a better look at you as well as move a little closer. his eyes were half open but you can still see the glint of playfulness in them. a faint smirk was on his face. this man… is this supposed to mean that this whole time he was only pretending to be asleep?!

“you love me?” he repeated his question, a bit of teasing evident in his tone. god you wanted to smack that smug smile off his face. perhaps you should have never opened your mouth in the first place.

“ah, i just… i mean…” your words trailed off as your heart started to speed up. suddenly you didn’t know what to say but if he really heard your words earlier then the answer must be obvious. you’re sure you look flustered right now and you can’t even hide it from him since he’s right in front of you.

however, what he did next made your world freeze in time.

without a warning dazai slowly closed the distance and softly touched your lips with his. having you so distracted that you didn’t even notice when he moved his hand to the back your head.

the kiss lasted for about three seconds but it sure felt like an eternity. his lips were much softer than you thought, despite you not having enough time to fully react to the kiss. for a moment you can’t help but question if this was real or another dream you were about to wake up from.

his face still stayed close, his lips slightly parted as his warm breath hit your skin. “i think i love you too y’know..” he mumbled while gently caressing the corner of your jaw. his voice seemed more sincere when he said that.

and just like that all of you anxieties disappeared. you don’t what came over you but what you do know is that you captured his lips with yours once again. only this time you felt the need to go deeper, like you couldn’t get enough of him.

dazai welcomed your initiative warmly, letting out a quiet hum as you kissed him once again. you had no idea kissing someone could feel this good. you swear you can feel him smiling against your lips at some point and it makes your heart skip a beat. your hands wander through his hair, holding him close as your body relaxes.

you guessed all those times he bragged about being a good kisser turned out to be true after all.

when the two of you part to take a moment to breathe, he takes the chance to tease you again. “i’m still waiting for an answer to my question, bella.” he says softly.

yeah, this was definitely real.

thank you so much if you made it this far !<3 literally need to stop rereading this because it gets worse every time i do help

#𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ maeve writes . 🖋️#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fluff #dazai x y/n #dazai x you

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theplumsoldier · 1 year ago

Text

money shot

summary: when recruiting you, pedro didn't realize he would get jealous from seeing other men fuck you, so he decides to pull your jobs, now only offering you solo scenes. you (dumb and dubious) ask why.

pairing: porn director!pedro pascal x reader

warnings: 18+: p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), vulgar language, pet names, dirty talk, lil self-doubt

word count: 2,9k

˗ˏˋ inspo ´ˎ˗ & @cannolighost for the idea (hope i did it justice babe!!;3)

When the man who approached you, talking about "star quality", handed you his business card, you glowered up at him. "Porn?"

He frowned and surprised you as his hands waved around in such animated gestures, which merely added to his charismatic demeanor. It also made the muscles in his tan arms protrude from his Versace silk shirt. "I prefer the term 'adult film director'."

Glaring at him with squinted eyes, you looked back at the card. Bubble productions. You snorted.

You had done this kind of work before. Amateur style, of course. With your old boyfriend, actually. At one point, he had convinced you to make a little home video, just for the two of you. You enjoyed the way you looked on the camera, which made it a whole lot easier for him to persuade you into letting him upload it. The two of you ended up filming yourselves regularly and sharing it online—and it gained a lot of attraction, too.

Now it had been a couple of months since your break-up, and frankly, you missed it. Not exactly the relationship itself, but feeling sexy, feeling admired, and worshipped by random people online. You had thought about it before, doing porn at a whole other level, but had dismissed the thought as quickly as it merely reminded you of him. The cheating bastard.

This time, with this man asking you to be "his new star", it was no different.

As you gave him your best smile, he thought he had reeled you in, but you then you kindly told him to "fuck off" and spun on your heel.

It wasn't until a few of days later, when you were scrolling through your feed and found a picture of your ex with a girl, that the thought occurred to you again.

You convinced yourself that it wasn't to make him jealous, simply for your own good, to give this thing a shot and do something fun for yourself. That same day you rummaged through your purse, certain you had shoved the business card away as opposed to throwing it into the trash, and sure enough—your eyes gleamed with a certain thrill as you dialed the number.

Of course, you couldn't just accept the offer right away. You needed to know what kind of thing you were getting yourself into, set some boundaries if you were to do this, and so you asked Pedro to meet you for a couple of drinks.

Pedro smooth-talks you all night and reveals what he's been thinking. Truth be told, you didn't have a lot of expectations, but he made his business sound just glamorous and the money was not too bad either.

He ensures you that you would be able to add input, requests, and such, and insisted that "it was all up to you". You told him that if you were to do this, you wanted to be able to turn down anything, anyone, no questions asked and he did not hesitate to agree.

At some point, you excused yourself and disappeared into the bathroom. While feeling the soft alcoholic buzz enveloping your body, you felt his eyes on you and naturally became aware of the sway in your hips.

Pedro was certainly not bad-looking. With his brown hair, caramel eyes, and honey-dipped skin just begging to be licked, you began wondering if he himself had starred in any productions. You certainly would not object to a bite of him. While his charm had its wanted effect on you, you convinced yourself it was simply his eccentric persona, and not something directed specifically at you.

This charm he wields just so appears to comfort you, and welcome you to join his alluring lifestyle that it made you feel warm and fuzzy. It might be the alcohol, but he spoke with such passion, an intensity that it compelled you to take his hand and dive headfirst into his world.

Then came the dour reminder of your ex-boyfriend. He had been the one to put all these thoughts into your head in the first place, so you wondered what he would think. Would he reach out to you again? Would he be jealous? Or would he perhaps just think you for a slut?

A part of you wanted to provoke something inside of him—might be jealousy or even anger, a little possessiveness, just the right amount of toxic.

No.

This was not about him. It's about you.

With that inaudible dialogue with the bathroom mirror, you finally returned to Pedro. His skin was dewy from the heat and alcohol, and his enormous hand (which made the glass seem miniatures comparison) put his drink back down. He cocked an eyebrow as if quizzing you.

"I'm in."

The first day on the job was fantastic. There was time for the crew to mingle, the actors got to know each other a bit and you wrapped up with a nice cumshot on your tits. It was fun. You immediately felt that Bubble Productions were a safe space. The crew was focused on making the actors feel hyped up and confident, as you did your thing.

You figured it was quite normal to see a few boners here and there amongst the set crew, but you couldn't help but notice the tent in Pedro's pants as he directed from his chair. There was a point where he became unusually quiet, which made you think something was not to his liking. But as the cameramen flocked and closed in on you, you figured he was just concentrating on the money shot.

From then on, you found yourself with just three days of work in a week, trying different things with both guys and girls.

A couple of films later you began realizing Pedro had decided to take things down another road. Lately, he had handpicked you for several solo shoots, and you began pondering whether you did something wrong while performing with other people. While you enjoyed having to focus on just yourself, as well as being the center of attention (more specifically the center of Pedro's attention) you couldn't help but wonder.

Had someone complained about you? Did the audience not like you as much as they did in the beginning?

It prompted you to stay behind one time after the remains of the crew had left for the day, wanting nothing but to please the man with the vision.

It was the first time you had been alone with Pedro since that night at the bar and as you approached him with nothing to cover your figure except a dainty pink silk robe, he was ready to renounce every bit of professionalism left in him to take you right there, on the setup of fluffy pillows, wanting to see you teary-eyed as he fucked you into the Love-a-Lot Care Bear.

When you asked him if the audience did not like you, he immediately assured you: "they adore you!"

It should have lifted a weight off of your shoulders, but it did not—you were convinced something was wrong.

So you asked him if anyone had expressed aversion to working with you and Pedro realized he was the reason for your sudden self-consciousness.

It made him feel bad, for cutting your gigs down to a minimum and only offering you solo performances had been a very conscious choice. The jealousy brewing inside of him as he watched you do the job he had given you—he knew it was unprofessional of him but when the sin turned to downright anger, he just had to do something—what kind of director would he be to fire men for doing their job?

"Baby, everybody loves you! It's just—the audience doesn't wanna see a pretty girl like yourself bein' ruined, they want you all to themselves! Your solo's been a hit—"

You could see his lips move around the words, but you zoned out for a second. Of course, the audience wants to see you being ruined by filthy men, you thought, and once again, the thought that Pedro wanted you became dominant.

Did he want you all to himself?

"The audience..."

"Yeah!"

You frowned at him. "So this has nothing to do with what you want?"

Shit.

You saw right through him. He had hoped you were just pretty and dumb—that would have made his case a lot easier.

He gave lying a shot. "What? No!"

Pedro hoped you didn't notice that his voice pitched an octave. It was too obvious.

Really, you thought it was cute how flustered he got. For a man directing adult films, you would never have guessed he would find trouble flirting.

You put on a pout and sighed heavily, drawing your hand up his chest to toy with the gold chain framing his thick neck.

"S'a shame. Had kinda hoped you made me do all those, 'cause you were jealous," mused you, feeling confident as you leaned closer and twirled the hair at the nape of his neck.

His tongue danced along the line of his bottom lip as his eyes trailed down to where your chest revealed itself beneath the robe.

"Jealous, huh?"

You nodded, pulling back to tilt his chin up so that you caught his eyes. It seemed as if though that had darkened, his pupils had dilated and you felt his cock had grown too.

"Wanted to know 'f it was 'cause you wanted me all to yourself."

The coy smirk grew. "That somethin' ya want?"

"Dont know yet," you shrugged.

Pedro closed the space between you.

"Lemme help you find out."

His lips were crashing against yours the next second, rough and passionate, hungry and needy.

You moaned into his mouth as you felt him slip down the robe and as it pooled at your feet, you were about to trip backwards. He didn't let you and in a swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around him.

The feeling of his restrained member made you all the more excited, and as he maneuvered you over to the set you had been coming on a little earlier, you keenly pulled him with you, eager to finally have him.

You couldn't shake the thought of him limiting your scenes. Had it been anyone else, who had done it out of personal interest, you would have been furious.

Pedro had noticed the way your moans had changed recently. When you played with yourself, made yourself come, your cries had become much more authentic, less of a performer, more of an aroused insatiable woman. He couldn't help but strive to make you sing for him, make you writhe, and make you beg for him to stop while simultaneously keeping his hand in place because you would fucking kill him if he dared cease.

He didn't want those pornographic sounds you offered the mic, he wanted those greedy moans to tear through your throat as orgasm after orgasm ripped from your body.

The kisses are wet with tongues and teeth clashing, but it doesn't matter because as the pad of his index runs through your slit, every thought disintegrates in your mind and your brain becomes mush.

"So sensitive for me, baby. Pussy sore from working so hard for me?"

"Hmpff..." you mewled, acrylics clawing at his back as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck.

"Ya done so good for me, baby—you gonna lemme take care of ya, hm?"

You whined as Pedro's finger delved into you, the curious tip exploring and prodding at your walls. The combination of being touched by someone you wanted so badly as well as his significantly girthier finger made you gasp in a lower pitch, unlike that factitious moan his so-called "stars" had elicited from you.

It made him rock hard, hearing that genuine sound sputtering from your lips like you couldn't contain it.

He drew your slick through your folds, steadying your hips with his enormous hands as you began to squirm.

"Lie still, pretty baby," Pedro tsked, a devious smirk complimenting his face, and before you could protest he lapped his tongue through the wetness that had pooled between your legs.

Another moan, this untamed and frustrated, a whimper turning into a growl while your hips bucked upward, aiming to catch his mouth completely.

But he insisted—he was going to show you just how devoted he was to making you feel good, better than you did yourself. Pedro wanted you to know he had been schooling himself with those films of you, taking notes to make sure he knew exactly what you liked, and even what you did not know you liked yet.

You cursed when he inserted two fingers. Pedro's tongue occupied your swollen clit in such a way that it left you wanting more of him.

"Pedro," you moaned but as he hooked you with a third finger, curling them against your spongy walls, carving you perfectly for his cock, your pleads were punched out into cries.

"'S fuckin' tight, baby—who'd a thought such a little slut whorin' her body out would 'ave such a tight little hole?"

Under different circumstances, you would have punched the man calling you a slut in his teeth, but this, as Pedro claimed you, you found yourself desperate for the degrading behavior.

He pulled an orgasm from you before he allowed himself the pleasure of filling you with his cock, and as his member sprung free, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

A weeping head plastered on top of his thick, veiny girth, forged to perfectly destroy any woman.

It was almost sad to hide such a wonder from the cameras.

Pedro chuckled, cooking his brow, "impressed yet?"

Just to fuck with him, you put on an indifferent demeanor and turned on your stomach, pushing a pillow down under your stomach. He certainly didn't require an ego boost.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

His hands felt so perfectly hot on your hips when he dragged your ass closer to him, propping you on your knees and slotting himself by your entrance.

You expected him to ram straight up into you and wanted to fucking cry when he merely dragged his mushroom head along your folds, collecting your slick in a fine mixture with his precum.

"Pedro," you whined in a bated breath. "Fuck me already—"

And there it was the merciless fucking. He bottomed out only to smash back into you, heavy balls slapping against your cunt with every thrust.

The sudden movement made your knees buckle beneath you and you were back on your stomach.

The new position did not seem to face Pedro as he continued to plunge into you from behind. If anything it allowed you to feel him even deeper, a bulge hitting the deepest spot possible making you sob into the pink Care Bear.

"Mmpff—fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Pedro caught your wrists in a harsh grasp, holding them steady on the small of your back to stop you from clawing desperately at him.

"'S the matter, baby? Didn't my guys fill ya up this good, huh?" It came out like a growl and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

You couldn't help but love the way he called his pornstars his "guys" like he was some creep who had taken you prisoner, the sole purpose of your kidnapping being that you should be fucked day-in-day-out by him and all his ravenous men.

Pedro grasping at the roots of your hair, forcing you to bend back just enough for him to see your fucked-out expression, pulled you from your fantasy.

"Asked you a question, baby."

For the first time, the pet name sounded less affectionate; way too menacing to be loving as the cruel grip on your hair loosened, only to force your face down into the mattress.

"No, no, no!" you cried, barely able to form a proper sentence between his ruthless thrusts. "Ff-uck! Never felt this good!"

Pedro chuckled and abandoned his hold on you, his arm snaking under your body to skillfully locate your clit, deft fingers beginning a dance. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, heating up as you neared your release.

Pedro emitted a sound, something between a growl and a moan, as he felt your pussy clench so nicely around his cock. Feeling your cunt choking his cock, he gave you one command in that cocksure tone.

Fucking you through yours, he slipped into his orgasm as you practically squeezed it out of him. His brutal pace faltered only when he pulled out and as you mourned the loss in your throbbing cunt, you hastily rolled to greet him with your tongue rolled out for him to paint.

His jaw hang ajar, eyes dazed as he watched you hungrily await his seed. With a few more pumps Pedro coated your face in hot velvety strings.

He leans back on his haunches, admiring his masterpiece for a minute or so. He wanted to take a picture of you so badly. If Pedro asked, you would probably say "yes", but there was something about this moment—this was your moment, something just for the two of you.

Pedro muttered something to himself, something you didn't quite catch between your frenzied phase and the buzzing in your ears.

"Huh?" you hummed, looking so not innocent batting your come-coated lashes at him.

His large hand catches your jaw in such an affectionate manner it made your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. Just then, for a second or two, Pedro looked as if he was about to say three very specific words. He didn't.

Instead, he shook his head and cupped your sticky cheek as he planted an uncharacteristically soft kiss on your forehead, before moving away — to get towels for the mess he had made (you were equally responsible) — murmuring with a small chuckle, "ya gonna fuckin' ruin me, baby."

#pedro pascal #theplumsoldier #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal au #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #money shot

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aita-blorbos · 3 months ago

Note

AITA for killing and dismembering the school bully?

now, i know this sound bad, but listen.

i (18f) am a senior in high school. i go to a public school, as there are no christian schools in town.

the school i attend, to be as nice as possible, is a pathetic excuse for education.

the school itself encourages lust every single year with it’s homecoming dance. everyone is all over each other, kissing one another and dancing waaaay to close to one another.

clearly, this is morally reprehensible, and so naturally, i made it my goal to get the homecoming dance canceled.

throughout the first week of school, i campaigned around the building with that goal in mind. while doing so, a guy (18m), who’s probably bullied the entire school at this point, began hitting on me. i kindly rejected his advances, reminding him that if he keeps it up with the way he speaks, he’s going to be roasting in hell… and then i left.

despite that, when i got home, i could not stop myself from thinking about him. not in a regular way at all though. i felt an attraction to him.

it disgusted me that i would feel this way about someone.

but it wasn’t my fault. it was his. (obviously)

so, i decided i was going to get back at him.

turns out, a group of other people, who each will be represented by a letter:

a (17m)

b (18m)

c (18f)

d (18f)

wanted to get back at him too!

so, i helped devise a plan.

we would go to an old, haunted, house my father was the realtor for. we would then, lead the bully into the house under the guise of a fun event, which d was able to do as she was a part of his friend circle. finally, b would film him freaking out about the “ghouls” (played in costumes by a & c) in the house, and then post it online.

the stage was set, and so the show was on . all was going well until we realized he was going to try and fight both a & c, believing they were actually monsters. d had to get in the way to make sure a&c didn’t get hurt, and told the bully that a prank was being pulled.

he seemed to be a bit happy about the prank; that was until he fell an entire story and got impaled by wood planks.

and for some reason, everybody was freaking out. d suggested we call the police and show the video as evidence, but apparently b hadn’t got any footage of him falling.

a, filled with ignorance, said we were surely going to prison for this.

but i knew we wouldn’t.

his death wasn’t an accident, but it wasn’t murder.

it was an act of god.

i believe if he would have turned to jesus, he’d still be with us. but no, he was a terrible terrible person and got what was coming. thank goodness he’s rotting in hell now.

unfortunately, we couldn’t just leave him there.

so, i suggested we dismember the body and hide him underneath the floorboards.

with a lot of confusion and minimal protest from the group, we did just that.

it’s been a couple weeks since the incident, and i’m having a very hard time feeling bad about it.

he was a real crappy guy. everyone seems a lot happier since he’s been gone.

but i’m not sure.

should i feel bad about this?

AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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gretavanlace · 1 year ago

Text

Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #fanfic #gvf josh #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh gvf #smut

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cattimeswithjellie · 5 months ago

Text

Stream Recap, DocM77, 07/06/24

In which Doc is trapped in the sky and given birthday love and harassment by both his hermit friends and the Chat. He harvests a lot of cherry wood and acquires a valuable moss block after a base tour with Pearl and her llama ends in tragedy. ((I have not recapped the llama tour itself because it is admirably covered in Pearl's video and will probably feature prominently in Doc's Friday video as well.)) False stops by to tease him and Ren pays a visit to hear about Doc's new plan to darken the server with a massive cobblestone ceiling.

9:00 Doc opens his stream in studio view with one minute left on the clock, during the playing of his channel intro song. He headbangs along with the song, declares how great it is, and welcomes the Chat. Today is Doc’s birthday and he is severely emotionally compromised. Not only has everything gone wrong for him in game with losing the court case, it has been one month since his big sub jump and he was not able to stream last week, so his sub count has gone back to 900 from a high of 5000. He specially greets all the single ladies and talks about the chat he had with Ren about there being many single ladies in the stream chats. Ren turned on his facecam to appeal to the single ladies in his stream but feels moral qualms about it. Doc laugh and admit that he is making all of this up. He welcomes the DCP (Doc Collaboration Project, his artist collective) back from TwitchCon in Amsterday

12:00 Doc tells Chat that today he has set the Doccy Fund (now renamed Birthday Fund) to $7777.77 with the assumption that some millionaire will happen into the stream today and fill it up because it is his birthday. If he has learned anything from the court case where he was branded an enormous baby and banished to the sky to beg items off his friends, it is that whining can be effective to get what you want. Chat points out that TwitchCon was in Rotterdam. Doc shrugs this off, he never goes to TwitchCon anyway. A chatter sends a tongue-in-cheek birthday message, Doc admits that he doesn’t really look forward to birthdays anymore because it just means getting older. He decides that from now on he will conceal his real age (notwithstanding the “77” in his handle) and workshops the sexiest age to be with the single ladies in chat. It is now Chat’s job to spread the word that Scar is 48 years old and Doc is 33. Doc starts to tell a joke about how he was looking through the adult ads in the local paper the other day, then abruptly decides he is not going to tell that joke.

13:40 Doc thanks subs and donos. He opens the game and logs into Hermitcraft, where he is on his Skyblock island. Someone has covered his dirt blocks with lit candles and there is a cake with a sign wishing him a happy 77th birthday, with love from Cleo. Doc is initially upset, but calms down when he realizes this is a birthday gift. There is also a sympathetic and condescending message from Skizz telling him that being stuck up here is the only way Doc will reflect on his actions. Given recent events, Doc has to check every inch of his base to make sure nothing has been stolen, after which he can eat some cake. Someone has also named the sheep “Doc’s Only Friend.” Chat thinks that is very funny.

15:30 Doc rants a bit about how all of this is so unfair, then wonders if anyone is going to bring him any useful gifts. What he really needs is some moss blocks so he can make a bonemeal farm. These candles are next to useless and they are making his base too cute. Candles and cake and pink fences take away from the whole Fortress of Solitude look. Doc informs in-game chat that he is online and streaming, and thanks subs and donos. He stares longingly over at his shop, then tells Chat about how yesterday he was filming the outro for his new video and reminds everyone that the new TCG cards are coming out soon, some of them worked on by the DCP. His cards are taking longer than usual because he does not get back to the artists (especially SubToMumbo) with feedback in good time. Chat points out that Doc has already claimed SubToMumbo is his fandom alt. He is hoping for Goatfather and Docmaid as his alter ego cards.

20:00 A chatter says Doc is aging like fine wine. He says that fine wine aging means it just gets more sour, and at his age it means just rotting from the inside. But he wants to do something useful today! He wants to grow more cherry trees, for a start. He begins picking up the candles and lets out a truly headphone-demolishing “NOOOOOOOO” as he accidentally breaks one of his precious dirt blocks and sends it plummeting to earth. Chat is both deafened and bereft. Doc has now lost two dirt blocks and he cannot afford that kind of lack of concentration. He needs to make a lower floor, stat. He shows chat the boat on his hotbar and explains that if he does fall, he’s going to try and boat MLG so he doesn’t touch the ground. He also blames Chat for the loss of the dirt block.

22:20 Despite the setback, Doc has plans for today which include growing cherry trees both for wood and to collect leaves for his composter. He’s down to 15 iron blocks now and really needs an iron farm, but he still has the shears he used to cut leaves for the cobble farm. A chatter makes a large gift of subs, which makes Doc feel a lot better. He tells Chat that what he wanted for his birthday IRL was just to go out to dinner with Karin. She works for a newspaper and got an insider tip about a restaurant that is about to get a Michelin star but that is currently not overexposed and still has good prices. They went there and had a lovely meal. Doccy was there too and behaved very well, asking frequently “Papa, am I fancy?” Doccy was extremely popular and got free dessert. Chat thinks this story is adorable. Doc doesn’t typically want to bribe for good behavior with sweets, but he made an exception this once. He also got a card and little present from Doccy, who is left-handed and still writes upside-down.

27:20 A cherry tree grows, big skyblock excitement! Doc thanks subs and donos, who are being quite generous this morning. He says this birthday is great, makes him forget he’s trapped in Skyblock. Chat is much better than YouTube commenters, who can still be obnoxious after all the years Doc’s been dealing with them. One commenter on the new video went on a super-obnoxious rant about how Doc isn’t smart because he didn’t make a giant grass platform to easily spawn all the friendly mobs he could need for food and wool. Doc walks to the edge of the platform and looks out over the vast, grassy world spread out beneath him and points out that this is not actually Skyblock, he is not playing in an empty void where animals have only one place to spawn. Chat joins him in mocking the commenter.

29:20 Doc says someone told him he could plant a golden carrot for regular carrots. Chat tells him that is not a thing. Doc tries it anyway. It does not work. He thanks subs and donos, then begins harvesting his new trees. Today is Day 3 of Doc’s Skyblock exile, and the plan is mostly chill. Doc doesn’t want to build anything very big on stream because he wants to save big tech jumps for the video, but he can grind out some resources for those things. Doc tells the story of why he could not stream last week: Karin was sick and Doccy wanted to go to the swimming pool, and family always comes first. But Doc really is trying to keep his consistent streaming schedule so he can build subs and avoid having to take product endorsements. Chat is supportive of Doc’s priorities.

35:30 Doc shears leaves and talks about his Skyblock experience so far. Docs feels a lot of pressure due to his technical Minecraft skills to always be pushing forward on everything, including Skyblock. A lot of people expect him to be going full-bore even starting from nothing, and there’s some pressure there to perform. He tells Chat that the Hivemind is currently extremely busy with the jump to 1.21 and there is some very exciting and confusing stuff coming up! He can’t talk too much about it until it is ready to display on video, because the Technical Minecraft community is very competitive and even a whiff of a clue will get everyone looking in the same direction for the next new thing. He tells Chat elaborate lies about his text-to-voice mod and about the single ladies sliding into his DMs, then admits it’s all a lie and everyone knows he has a partner. But he has checked on a few of the more active “single ladies” in chat just to make sure they are actually adults.

43:00 Doc uses up his shears well before he runs out of leaves and resorts to just chopping the rest of the cherry wood. Chat suggests hitting Mumbo up for some more iron. Doc points out that even without actual checking, some people are active enough in the community over the years that you learn what they look like and their basic facts just from longevity and proximity. Some of Doc’s chatters have been around for 10+ years. “StalkM77,” jokes Chat. A chatter asks why Doc doesn’t just waterstream down and grab his gear from his chest. Doc says he could probably do that, but it would be against the spirit of the punishment and also make for less good content. Doc also doesn’t want to take Cleo’s suggestion of placing blocks to hop or bridge across the ground, but he may build a flying machine. He points out that this whole exercise is voluntary in the sense that the other Hermits can’t exactly force him into the sky, but this is a good way to ensure Cleo doesn’t have a grudge against him for the rest of the season.

48:00 The real problem with this exile is that the Ore Snatcher now has the opportunity to do their terrible deeds unopposed. Doc has seen the messages from YouTube commenters about how some of them are tired of the storyline and want it to stop, but this is a storyline Doc has no control over! It goes however long the Ore Snatcher wants it to, and Doc just has to go crazy on his Skyblock in the meantime. Doc admits he knows it is Cub. Chat is not sure, but Doc is sure. This is in Cub’s wheelhouse and only he would have the dedication. The only think Doc doesn’t know is Why? He hasn’t done anything to Cub this season. He ridicules the outlier theory that he has an evil alter ego and is doing it to himself.

51:00 The only way to stop Cub is to catch him red-handed. Doc thanks subs and donos again, he is getting quite a few but his hype train is still on cooldown. Chat is sympathetic to Doc’s exile and think maybe he should’ve had a better lawyer. Doc discusses the giant baby defense, which was funny but ultimately useless. He admits that hiring Joe was sort of an accident. He threatened Cleo in chat with hiring Joe due to Joe’s convoluted style of argument, and was surprised when Joe jumped in immediately to accept the job. Saying no at that point might have hurt Joe’s feelings, and it cannot be argued that Joe does have a very creative mind. Doc notices some lag on the server and asks Xisuma if he’s running his copper farm. Copper farms put a lot of strain on the server.

57:00 A chatter gives Doc a dono to help offset the emotional distress caused by Skyblock and suggests Doc get his husband to help him out. Doc says Ren has already helped him ((Ren provided him with nine sand blocks and a grass block in Doc’s last episode)). He plants some more saplings, saying his mid-term mission is to get enough wood to not have to worry about it for awhile. He flirts with the single ladies of Chat, then makes it clear that anyone in Chat under 30 should not count themselves as the focus of his flirtation, though men can also count themselves among the single ladies if they would like. He tells the story about the time he went to the sauna when it was Ladies Day and nobody told him and he didn’t realize why there were so many women there.

1:05:40 Doc is losing his mind stuck up on the Skyblock. He also needs to start watching his alcohol choices because yesterday he drank one glass of wine and got a nasty stomachache from it. He drinks so rarely these days he’s got no tolerance anymore. The older folks in chat sympathize. By the time you get to 40, Doc says, there’s hardly any regular casual drinking, you either drink rarely or you’re an alcoholic. He thanks subs and donos again. Doc tells a story about his dad, who had two beers every night for years and who seemed completely chill about it until they were in a situation where he couldn’t get his evening beer and it became clear that he had a real physical dependency on it. Talking to his dad about it didn’t turn out well and his dad was not a good person in general. He has not talked to his dad in about 20 years now. Doc’s grandfather was his male role model and his grandfather didn’t drink at all, which was strange in a village where all the social life revolved around alcohol.

1:14:00 Doc gets distracted by talking about Berliners with very large bottles of alcohol just walking around after work. He’s not a fan. A chatter asks what beer Doc likes and he says he likes the beer Methodz brews but not really anything else. He’s a cocktail guy when he drinks, he likes a gin and tonic with a bit of ice. Doc investigates the “mixed drink” golden carrots that Kerlis gave him, which is reskinned as a pina colada. Doc sings the song and advises Chat not to drink. It’s not really that great. It’s not so much a social lubricant as it just makes people obnoxious. Being a little tipsy at a party is fine, but more is not good.

1:20:00 Doc remembers he wanted to make some bonemeal. He feeds leaves into the composter and collects the bonemeal. He tells the story of a time when he’d been out with a group of couples and they’d all been with their drinks, and one of the women in the group still got roofied. They took care of her and she was safe, but it was weird and scary. Some people are just messed up. A chatter makes a big donation, Doc thanks them and makes a joke about sugar daddies and mommies. He tells a story about going to visit some very wealthy family friends and meeting weird people there. A chatter asks if Ren isn’t Doc’s only single lady on the server. Doc laughs and says Ren is great, and that’s why Ren is his husband. Or wife, or something. He just knows the fans like that sort of thing. He repeats his mini-rant about complicated flags and how the Jolly Roger is the only really good flag. Chat laughs at him and calls him an old man.

1:30:00 A chatter makes a very large donation with a text-to-voice saying “Happy birthday, also Cleo said she’s going to kill your sheep in front of you.” Doc becomes very distracted by all of this. He says this news is bittersweet, with the money and the sheep at the same time. He jokes about how he’s going to max out the donation bar and take a two week vacation to Thailand, except that Karin would kill him. Thailand is great, he assures Chat, but it’s also very expensive and his priorities have changed now that Doccy is around. He describes Doccy sitting on their bed in the morning singing a song about how life is great and it is very cute. He looks at Doccy and all he wants to do is protect them and make sure that they are never afraid ever.

1:33:50 A chatter asks if Doccy is bilingual, Doc says yes, to a certain degree, but they are not trying to teach them specifically. Kids just pick up the language that is spoken to them. A chatter asks if Doccy likes Minecraft yet, but Doccy has minimal screentime yet. Doccy did like the Perimeter and considered it “Home” on Hermitcraft 9. They also knew Decked Out and had a very cute interaction with Dungeon Master Tango. Chat remembers that moment very fondly.

1:37:00 Once you have kids, Doc explains, everything changes, and you don’t want as many things for yourself anymore. He thinks that is why so many dads end up with socks and wallets for Father’s Day, because it’s hard to think of thinks you actually want. A chatter tells Doc that Cleo has been running interference for him with the other Hermits and has stopped several pranks on his Skyblock already, including Skizz killing his sheep. She says she and Doc are friends now. Doc says that Skizz should not be interfering in this punishment, he is a lawyer and it is against his probation rules or bar exam or something like that. Another chatter suggests spreading the love of chickens across the server, Doc would like to do that but he hasn’t managed to get hold of a chicken yet. He looks over the edge, just in case there might be a chicken around.

1:40:40 Now that Doc has bonemeal, he can bonemeal grass blocks and get seed, which he does. He grabs hold of his lead and decides to go down a little ways to see if chickens will appear. He creates a water column and, after being distracted by a dono, heads down the stream. He sees a chicken! The chicken is too far away to respond to his seed, or his pleading and whistling, or him calling it a stupid-ass chicken. Chatters suggest a fishing rod, but Doc doesn’t have a fishing rod. Someone says break his carrot on a stick, but that’s not a thing. He waits through the night and goes back out to get the chicken, already deciding that this is stupid to do on stream and also that Chat is being really unhelpful. A chatter says that using up all the durability on a carrot stick will return a fishing rod, but Doc does not have a pig. If only there were a pig conveniently located just underneath the skyblock and not a pig head sitting in Doc’s base…

1:50:00 Doc drops another water stream and starts sinking. The chicken is still pretty far away. Doc explains to chat that an MLG bucket clutch from a height might save his life but it would count as touching the ground and is still bad. He watches the chicken approaching and is excited until the chicken turns and dives down a ravine. He unnleashes another headphone-killing NOOOOOOO as Chat howls with laughter. There is still another chicken though, and also an egg. He still has a chance, but he is definitely going to fall if he keeps looking at chat. Doc moves the water column and tries again. He laughs at how chat has slowed down and subs and donos paused because everyone is glued to the screen and watching to see if he falls. This time he manages to catch the chicken with the lead and drags it back up the water stream. Doc admits he is sweating. He gets back to the platform and tells everyone they can unclench as soon as he has the chicken at the base.

2:00:00 Doc scoots the chicken around the edge of the base to find a good place to pull the chicken up. After a close call with some lava, he gets the chicken safely tethered to the side of his house. Doc takes a relaxation break and mines more wood, then takes a quick bio-break.

2:06:00 Doc comes back and is momentary bamboozled by chatters claiming the chicken died, but it is fine. A little close to some lava, but far enough to be safe. Doc scolds chat for organizing so quickly to troll him. He goes back to harvesting wood, because you can’t have enough of crappy pink wood. He tells Chat that he knows they are a good audience because the Hermitcraft hermits have spent years brainwashing their audiences into behaving. A chatter asks what happened to the oak Doc was collecting before, he says he got enough apples and oak is much more annoying to grow than cherry, with fewer saplings and sticks and less wood per tree. A chatter says that Hermitcraft is honestly the best TV show on YouTube and Doc agrees. He points out that if you added up all the group views from some of the most popular seasons, they probably did better than a lot of TV shows out there. If they got those views on Netflix, they’d be rich! Netflix needs to come after Hermitcraft. Chat suggests House of Goat for a name.

2:12:00 Doc and Chat bluesky about a Netflix treatment of Hermitcraft. Chatters are torn between a documentary about Hermitcraft and a Minecraft Story Mode treatment of the storylines. Doc concedes that production companies only think in the short term and if they were going to do a show about SMPs, it would be some flash in the pan that blows up, not something that is solid for a decade. And a lot of YouTubers are very young and inexperienced and can much more easily be trapped into bad contracts. Doc is musing aloud about this phenomenon when he notices Pearl is standing on his roof. Chat is very happy to see Pearl.

2:16:50 Pearl asks Doc if he wants to go on an excursion. The events that follow have been documented well (and hilariously) by Pearl in her “Malicious Compliance” Hermitcraft episode and will almost certainly feature heavily in Doc’s next episode as well, so don’t really need to be recapped here. The episode is _very_ worth watching, but the TLDW is that Pearl drags Doc on a llama to see her finished flower shop, Doc is terrified the whole time but not too terrified to take a crack at getting into an ender chest when he has a chance, accidentally shifts while doing so and touches the ground, and then gets blown up by a creeper Pearl accidentally navigates the llama close to. (The llama is fine.) Doc respawns on the skyblock, Pearl gives him back his things and offers to keep the secret, but Chat has already snitched. Pearl feels bad and goes to get Doc a block of moss to make up for it.

2:38:30 A chatter donates for text-to-voice and tells Doc that the shop does not count as “ground,” so no extra time. Doc and Chat are excited by the possibility of a loophole. Some chatters say that blocks Pearl placed count as “ground” and only Doc-placed blocks are “not-ground,” but it’s enough of a theory to hang a possible legal defense on. He decides the best way to proceed is to pretend to still be upset so he still gets the moss block, and to build up his XP again to conceal the fact that he ever died. Pearl comes back and gives him the moss block and wishes him good luck with finding loopholes. She leaves. Doc decides it was overall a good trip because he got an apple, a horn, a moss block, some wither roses and A LOOPHOLE. ((Also some cyan dye, for those keeping score at home.)) He was a little distraught at first, but he thinks this loophole is going to work for him. Chat encourages Doc to write a message to Pearl to keep her from feeling bad about the accident, he writes to her and tells her not to worry, loophole.

2:44:00 Chat argues with itself about the definition of ground and the validity of the loophole. Doc knows that Cleo is going to find out about this eventually and wanted to not be in the position of arguing semantics and the fine points of the rules, mostly because he’s pretty sure Judge Bdubs will solve edge cases by coin toss. Doc is back to regretting his life choices. Pearl dies to a zombie and Doc tuts about it, saying things aren’t really that bad, she doesn’t need to go killing herself over it. Doc’s chest is almost full, he needs to make another one. It’s also extremely chaotic and he misses his storage system. But he has a moss block now, and that is huge. He could make a moss farm. The thrill of skyblock is that any new block he gets opens new frontiers of possibility.

2:50:00 Doc plants more trees and tries to relax as he explains how he accidentally shifted. Pearl pulled him far enough away to close the ender chest inventory just as he was shift-clicking something into his inventory. Without being in an inventory screen, the shift was a dismount command and the rest is hopefully-loopholeable history. Chat is still quibbling with itself about the loophole, but everyone is distracted when “Oh my god HI!” starts playing again and again overhead, and a Hermit arcs in for a landing. It’s Falsesymmetry! Chat is happy to see False.

2:52:30 Doc, who is a ittle on edge after his previous visitor, demands to know what False wants. False plays hurt, saying she hasn’t even been here before and she wants to know what he’s been up to! Doc explains that he can’t trust anyone right now because Pearl just threw him on the ground and it was only his masterful reflexes that allowed him to land safely on some stairs. False is baffled at how Pearl could’ve thrown him on the ground, Doc says it’s a long story. False wishes him a happy 77th birthday, like it says on the cake. Doc, who hadn’t read the sign before, is a bit shocked. False tells him sympathetically that eyesight does get bad when you get old. Doc has to agree with that and says that he’s gotten to the age now where he has to hold things away from himself to read them.

2:54:00 Doc asks False how TwitchCon was, and mentions she met some of the DCP members. She is not familiar with the name, but did meet the artists. One of the artists is in chat and pleased to be remembered, False does the OMG HI horn at them. Doc realizes now that it was a horn and laughs, saying that it didn’t really sound like False and it confused him. She responds with a barrage of OMG HI, both spoken and horn form, that soon has Doc cowering under the trees and Chat yelling along. False remarks that this is great because Doc can’t go anywhere. Doc says it’s not great, but he definitely isn’t going anywhere now after his Pearl “adventure.” He explains that Pearl took him out the way one takes a dog on a walk. False remains baffled, but Doc tells the abbreviated story of the llama walk, leaving out the stair-touch. False thinks this might require additional time added to his sentence, but Doc suddenly redirects the conversation to the possibility of False being the Ore Snatcher. He hadn’t suspected her before, but she could well be!

2:56:40 False thinks it’s Cub. Doc knows it is Cub. False demands to know why he’s blaming her, then! Doc can’t be sure, not until he catches Cub red-handed. He knows it’s not False, though. False wishes it were her, because she could use some diamond ore. Doc tells her that when he gets down, he is going to make the Ore Snatcher everyone’s problem because everyone will be so miserable that they will find the ore snatcher just to appease Doc’s wrath. False points out that this seems like a pretty good case for keeping Doc on the Skyblock and out of the way. She flies away, leaving Doc to grumble that they don’t know he has a record up here, which means MOTIVATIONAL QUOTES FOR EVERYONE! Last season Tango didn’t like the quotes at Decked Out, so Good Guy Doc restricted the range, but no more of that! He might just do an enormous loop of himself whining and play it for everyone on the server. Chat points out that Doc is not beating the giant baby allegations.

3:00:00 Doc demonstrates his most annoying whining techniques. ((The recapper has a brief traumatic flashback to her own preschooler not wanting to go to bed.)) Chat likes this idea, but it might be too evil. Another chatter mentions the gear chest below the Skyblock, but Doc reiterates that it is against the spirit of the challenge. He wouldn’t have gotten wings from the ender chest either, he was mostly fooling around. He has the epiphany that if he can record Doccy whining, that could be very easily weaponized for Hermitcraft. Chat is excited about all this vengeance.

3:03:00 Doc decides it’s time to relax a little and play some guitar. Chat grooves along. He plays some Pearl Jam, then some Alice in Chains. The guitar needs some tuning. He promises one day he will tune the guitar before stream and there will be more music. He takes a minute to tune it a little, then plays a bit more. He plays Wonderwall. Chat is amused. He plays Rocking in the Free World, then realizes he should probably play some Minecraft. He chops more wood. Doc tells Chat he used to be pretty good and know a lot of songs, but if you want to stay good, you have to play regularly.

3:10:00 Doc has been streaming three hours now and is starting to get hungry. He and Chat talk about guitars and about Doc’s plan to create ETERNAL DARKNESS with automated block-placing systems covering the village, the SD and all the bases in cobble. And then there will be the whining as well! And this time he will not be the one cleaning up the prank the way he did with the Perimeter, so there! Oh, and he will blame it all on the Ore Snatcher. He is already claiming to be a baby, this will definitely fit. He thanks subs and donos, makes a slightly off-color joke about satisfying the single ladies, then jokes about forgetting he was streaming. Doc’s hingedness level is clearly dropping the longer he streams today.

3:16:00 Doc gets a brainstorm and looks up the tabs for All the Single Ladies. He tries to play it on the guitar by sight-reading the tab sheet but can’t remember how the song goes well enough. It’s not a very good tab, either. He gets distracted realizing he’s never looked at the lyrics for the verses and is trying to parse the meaning of “Up on him, he up on me” when leaf decay strikes and drops him out of the tree he’d been harvesting. Luckily he was still over his platform, but the near miss means music time is over. Skyblock is no place for distractions! Doc blames the single ladies in the chat and says that if he’d died because he was looking up the lyrics to All The Single Ladies, he never would’ve been able to explain it to anyone.

3:20:00 Chat spots an egg and is very excited about it. Doc collects it and puts it in the chest. He realizes that False has changed the birthday sign to read “Happy 777th Birthday” and changes it to say “Happy 7th Birthday” to go with the big baby theme. A chatter says that they usually watch Ren and it is hilarious how mean Doc’s chat is to him. Chat takes umbrage but doesn’t exactly deny it, while Doc is happy to be vindicated at last! He can’t say too much though, after all these gift subs and donos. He makes a joke about one chatter, Rosie, slipping into his DMs, then realizes he shouldn’t do that because people are still harrassing SubToMumbo on MCCI and making jokes about them being Doc’s alt account.

3:25:00 Ren joins the game and Doc is pleased to see him. Chat is too, declaring Husband Time. A tree grows into the block Doc is standing on and does damage; Doc makes a joke about the tree growing up his ass. Doc sends a message saying he is lonely and asks Ren to hang out. Ren is too busy, he is working on an episode. Doc responds “ok”. Chat is very sad. Doc tells Chat he is not going to guilt trip Ren, he is proud of Ren for really grinding his way through the season so far. Ren might have more episodes done than anyone at this point! Ren also had a really hard time last season and he’s come back strong. He talks Ren’s base up and all the time and effort put in there, then rotates his view enough to take one long, pointed look at Hypno’s house and Wels’ castle, both of which are looking a bit sparse at this point in the season with their builders not around much. But Doc’s not going to point any fingers, obviously! Chat is impressed that even on a Skyblock island with no shadows, Doc can still throw shade.

3:29:00 A chatter asks Doc about getting an ender chest somehow, Doc points out that an ender chest would basically negate the challenge of skyblock entirely. He has lot of things in his ender chest, including the wings that would let him just fly away. He talks with Chat a bit about the importance of pacing oneself, not burning out at the beginning of the server and falling away once the new server energy goes away. He mentions that he’d been considering making a counter diss track for Wels’ rap battle, but had suspected that Wels wouldn’t stick around and it wouldn’t go anywhere. This is the part of the season where it is important to have a long-term plan on what to do for the season, so that even though things arise unplanned, such as court cases and skyblock exiles, Hermits know what they want to do with their episodes. Someone mentions the momentum problems that can arise when Hermits start new side series mid-season and Doc says he doesn’t like that. If it were up to him, all Hermits would work on Hermitcraft only, but honestly side series are good for the YouTube algorithm and good for bringing in new fans. And he may groan a little when a new Life Series game starts and takes attention away from Hermitcraft, but on the other hand he watches it too! In Chat, several chatters confirm that they found Hermitcraft through the Life Series or other side content.

3:35:00 Doc confirms that he would like to join the Life Series and has reached out to Grian about it, but the interest in joining that series is extremely high and it’s hard to pick new people to bring in. Doc understands that, but he does think it would be right up his alley. Chat suggests maybe not upload on Fridays if he doesn’t want to be in direct competition with the Life Series. Third Life got cooked up right when Doccy was tiny and he missed out on the game coming together, and sometimes the timing is just not right. He talks with Chat about MCC as well, he is not sure MCC is for him because he doesn’t want to have to grind to get good first. Chat has mixed opinions about MCC. Most Chatters like MCC best when Hermits are there, which is not terribly surprising.

3:42:40 Doc finds it a little funny that there are people who actually work on honing their Minecraft movement skills to the competitive level, but he realizes he probably shouldn’t talk about who is getting obsessive about what finer points of Minecraft, given the givens. He’s about to talk more about that when he gets jumpscared by the Etho “What’s going on?” horn, followed by Cleo’s “Are you actually kidding me?” horn. He runs around looking for the source and finds Ren flying around under the base. He laughs and calls Ren a bastard. Ren still has to work on his episode but wanted to pop in and say hello. Chat is REALLY happy to see Ren! Ren has uploaded a test version of his project to check sound levels so everything is perfect, Doc laughs at the idea of being so meticulous. Back in Season 8 when they were basing together, the difference between Ren’s meticulous nature and Doc’s “get it done” attitude got pretty comical, but made for great content!

3:45:00 Ren compliments Doc on his base progress. Doc brags on his new moss block and chicken, but says he is now not sure that he needs a moss farm, because people only need wood when they’re are planning on building things. Ren doesn’t catch the ominous note to these words because he is admiring the creeper farm. He like’s Doc’s choice to use pink wood and compliments him on playing Disney Princess Skyblock. He is both impressed and terrified by the cobble farm his gift of sand helped create and decides that the best place to stand is far away from the TNT duper. Doc assures Ren that he will be spared when the big skydome comes down. Ren is also impressed by the idea for the whining torture and suggests that maybe it can morph over time into promises of revenge, five stages of grief style. The server lags a bit and Doc blames Xisuma again. Ren agrees, but shoulders a bit of the blame because he has been part of the reason that so much copper is required this week. He has made something like 500 copper trapdoors to make a giant crane machine for Skulk. Doc reminds Chat to go watch Ren’s new video the moment it comes out. He promises to check and make sure they do it. Ren thanks Doc, then says he needs to go listen to his draft episode on YouTube to check the audio levels. Doc tells him that he is literally the only person in the world who does that. They jokingly scoff together about how quality is worthless on YouTube and in life, the way to get ahead is by scamming and whining!

3:50:00 Ren ruminates how the Disney Sky Island looks so friendly and fluffy when one looks at it, but actually talking to the builder is like talking to Satan himself! Doc tries to guilt Ren into giving him some more stuff, but Ren is pretty intent on following some unspecified rules of Doc Skyblock that include mostly not outright giving him things. Doc says Pearl gave him wither roses and Ren is impressed, pointing out they can be used for several mob farms. Doc is not super interested in mob farms, he just wants to destroy things. Ren asks if Wels is going to be the first target, being so close, but Doc says it will be Cub. There will be flying machines involved, given the distance to Cub’s base. Cleo is second, and after that, who knows? Doc contemplates how Ren used to say “bastards” a lot while playing, and now he is very PG while Doc says “bastard” all the time. Ren laughs and admits he almost didn’t get added to Hermitcraft because he said “bastard” and “ass” too much. He confides that his first regular sign-off for videos was something like “If you don’t subscribe, I’m gonna shove this pick up your ass.” Chat is scandalized. Doc is laughing. He and Ren talk about swearing on camera and YouTube comments, and how commenters somehow get weirdly mad if someone’s style doesn’t stay the same for a whole decade. Doc claims that one day he and Ren will go to South Africa together for a real brai (barbecue). They will livestream it, and at the end they will tell everyone the meaning of life.

3:56:00 Doc and Ren talk a little bit about traveling in Africa, how it is best if you know someone because going as a tourist is a very different experience. You can stay in a hotel and go on safari, but that’s not really Africa. They have another conversation about the single ladies, but Ren refuses to be distracted by talk of single ladies. He has an episode to make! Doc tells Chat that they are not allowed to be Ren’s single ladies right now, this is his stream! He tells Ren to go away and stop distracting Chat. Ren laughs and flies away. Doc scolds Chat for their lack of fidelity, then goes on to decide it would be fun to go with Ren on a date, he’d probably be awkward in that shy good-guy way. Chat is not sure what’s going on, but they are here for it. Doc clarifies that he would like to be a fly on the wall watching Ren on a date with someone else.

4:01:00 A chatter makes a large sub drop, Doc thanks subs and donos. He realizes that his lava pool is full and decides not to make a second level. He flirts with the Single Ladies after reiterating the “only 30+” rule and talks about how he doesn’t believe in marriage because his parents’ marriage was very bad. He doesn’t feel the need for that kind of declaration and the sort of party where everyone is judging it compared to other peoples’ parties. He and Chat talk more about relationships and families. If Karin ever gets sick of him, he supposes he will have to go live in the basement because he could never imagine leaving his family for any reason, marriage or no.

4:09:00 A chatter talks about having pain from being abandoned by their father. Doc commiserates, the same thing happened to him and even before his dad left, his love was very performance-based and conditional. He tells the chatter to try not to worry, that sort of pain does not have to pass through generations. He is a much better father than his father was, because he is consciously trying to be. He talks with Chat about family backgrounds and the things that influence kids growing up. If it hadn’t been for Doc’s grandparents taking him in hand and modeling good behaviors, he probably would’ve ended up a criminal. He tells a story about a scary man in his apartment building growing up, and the first time he punched somebody. The place where he spent his youth was pretty rough, and it got worse after the Berlin Wall came down. Doc has some wild childhood stories that are hard to recap but worth a listen.

4:23:00 Doc moved out on his own when he was 16 to get out of his bad neighborhood, from the money he was starting to earn from basketball. It was a very small apartment but still a lot of freedom for a very young guy. It was also a lot cheaper than apartments are these days. Getting out of his bad neighborhood was good for him and he was lucky to be tall and strong, which helped him get by easier. Doc pulls out to studio view to start winding down his stream. He still visits some of his old friends from his youth and talks with them about the old days. Doc is mad about the European Football Finals but he is not going to talk about the absolute crime of Germany’s quarterfinals elimination. It’s about time to wind up this very long stream. Doc thanks all the subs and donos for being so generous for this birthday stream. He may stream midweek this week, Skyblock is very streamable! He reminds Chat to watch Ren’s new video, raids into Falsesymmetry and ends his stream.

#hermitcraft #stream recap #docm77 #pearlescentmoon #falsesymmetry #rendog

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kiwisa · 2 years ago

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Watch Out, Boys ✷ cl16

✷ SECOND INTERLUDE OF THE TAMING OF THE HEARTBREAKER

━━━━━ PREVIOUS & NEXT !

in which... Y/N's invitation to the Miami GP means trouble !

AS THE HALL & OATES' SONG GOES: "Watch out, boys, she'll chew you up." Because, if there's one thing we know, it's that putting Y/N L/N and 20 conventionally attractive men in the same place is never a good idea.

Yet, that is precisely what's going to happen in a few days at the Miami International Autodrome. The actress, who will play the iconic Barbie in Greta Gerwig's adaptation, has been invited by Ray-Ban to the Miami Grand Prix on May 8.

The news was announced on Ferrari’s TikTok account⏤which the eyewear brand sponsors⏤and has since then sparked numerous reactions. While these vary, one common thread stands out: the fear of havoc. Admittedly, L/N turns heads and sows discord wherever she goes.

Formula One is already a chaotic world, adding Y/N L/N and her shenanigans to the mix would only make it worse.

Since her list of actors waiting to be seduced is dwindling, this event presents itself as a bargain for the Academy Award-winning actress, who will only have to draw someone from 20 options to be her next prey.

If the possibilities are considerably reduced by one small element to consider⏤the WAGs⏤L/N has shown before that she is not above immorality when it comes to getting her way. Her affair with Harry Styles, even though he was rumoured to be in a relationship with Olivia Wilde at the time, is formal proof of this.

Hide your men, ladies, because The Heartbreaker is in town and ready to pounce!

✷ SEE ALSO ON LOVE CLUB... !

Y/N L/N named the highest-paid actress of 2021 by Forbes

"Name a more iconic character? You can't" Y/N on being cast as Barbie for Greta Gerwig's movie

Is Harry Styles cheating on Olivia Wilde with Y/N L/N?

Of course, all eyes are now on the two Ferrari drivers, with whom L/N will spend most of her time (common sponsor dictates), and more particularly on Charles Leclerc, who is single.

It has been almost a month since the woman was last seen with anyone. A record! She's probably more determined than ever to get her hands on some fresh meat, and what better than a handsome, muscular driver who can speak French? We all know L/N's soft spot for the language of love. Her interviews remind us of it enough. So do her many French conquests.

We just hope that the actress' famous bedroom eyes will not trouble the Monegasque and make him lose his race. The fans of Il Predestinato would not react kindly to this.

He is, after all, one of the current favourites for the championship.

In any case, no matter what happens over the weekend, the outcome is bound to be interesting. Because, while her actions are open to criticism, Y/N L/N's impact is undeniable.

The woman is already the talk of the paddock and she hasn’t even set foot on it yet.

FILED UNDER #Y/NL/N #F1 #ACTORS #SPORTS #MIAMI #DATING

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Anonymous 15 minutes ago

It's already a miracle that she hasn't tried to fuck football players yet, if she could keep this up with F1 it would be great.

Anonymous 38 minutes ago

I will never understand why celebrities who have nothing to do with F1 and probably don't give a shit about it either are invited to all GP. It's ridiculous.

Anonymous 51 minutes ago

There's something about Y/N that I just hate. It's physical at this point. I can only stand her in movies. Probably because she doesn't act like herself in those...

Anonymous 1 hour ago

No, but I swear she really has a libido problem. This is the only explanation. She must be a nymphomaniac. Or just a whore. Or both.

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absolutebl · 8 months ago

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Began Beginning - Myanmar's first BL

Not So Quick Pitch (or is it a pitch?)

Cause I got a lot of thoughts

8 eps 25 min ea YouTube

Began Beginning feels very much like a first timers BL. Which it pretty much is. There’s a lot of explaining and info dumping and information that we really don’t need about the characters (or the family) especially in the first couple of episodes.

Here's your hlepful breakdown:

Mani = main boy workaholic, probably gay, acts ace

Hlyan = cute flirty bestie, smoker, closeted gay (for good reason) in love with Mani (becomes main character about 3/4 way through)

Walar = openly gay visitor recovering from a breakup who enters their codependent dynamic and things happen as a result

Thae = Mani & Hlyan’s other bestie, trans

I was tempted to say this reminded me of early Vietnamese BL, but in actuality what it reminded me of most was the stuff we got from way back in the early 2000's out of Hong Kong, or more recently from the Philippines (I'm thinking about something like The Boy Foretold by the Stars).

There is a grungy sticky authenticity to these works, of which Began Beginning is now a part. They have their own tarnished charm. For all their hiccups in storytelling and absurdities, there is an almost documentary feel to them, partly as a result of the inferior quality of production and filming (which is entirely economic). But that itself also somehow adds to the appeal.

This kind of BL is entirely the opposite of something out of Korea or GMMTV. And if you like that BL best, you aren't gonna like this product. But as much as KBL wins top ranks from me pretty consistently these days, sometimes I enjoy this kind of BL too.

The range itself keeps the genre vibrant and healthy.

So what is Began Beginning about?

Childhood best friends must come to terms with their own identities and true feelings for each other when a new boy comes to town, putting them into conflict with their families and ultimately, each other.

For the first half of this show there’s a lot of sitting across from each other and talking about life choices over yummy food and then going to tourist spots (mildly boring and not particularly important to the plot).

It changed tone about 2/3 in to be way more of a coming out family drama about forced marriages and homophobia.

And then at the very end it changed again, becoming a full on soap opera with kidnapping, crazy characterization shifts, and rescue missions.

All in all? It was a wild raw creature to consume as a binge. No kisses since this is Myanmar, but a very romantic end, so I think maybe actually worth your time? I'm certainly glad I watched it.

Recommended with lots of reservations but great respect. I’m going with a 7/10.

There is a particularly important part at the end when Hlyan talks about asking Thae to dress him as a girl to see if he was third gender because he had these feels for another boy. And how unpleasant that made him feel. I thought it was hugely impactful as a window into the boxes same sex loves in modern society forces upon us. No matter what options our culture provides for us, if the boxes are limited we feel limited too. Also, drawing a distinction between gender identity and sexual identity. Lovely bit of storytelling.

(see comments, turns out this is not the first one)

(source)

#it's wild and grungy but I enjoyed it #no kisses tho #Burmese BL #there's a tag I never thought I'd use #BL from Myanmar #Began Beginning

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pynkgothicka · 1 year ago

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ＡｌｗａｙｓＦｏｒｅｖｅｒＭＹＧ

Pairing - Yandere! Dark! Min Yoongi x Frankenstein! AFAB! Reader

Featuring - Sarah Paulson (HELP THE KILLER IS ESCAPING HELP ME)

Tags and Warnings - death, sex, yandere tendencies, grotesque descriptions, gaslighting

Authors Note - this counts as my Halloween fic since I be lazy, but I promise to write more! First I'll finish the monster series then the reqs! Then I'll write what I wanna write yada yada probably do a non bts series or fic

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality.This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

He needed something, anything.

Staring at he conglomerate of body parts he stole from previously dead people of the outskirts of the village he found himself by.

Yoongi shook his head as he looked at the body parts. He wanted to focus on the task at hand, even if it was considered testing death itself.

He was meticulous, finding different shades of her skin tone to fit his new creation. All to top it off was her head.

The head of his dead wife, you.

He looked at it, running his finger down it's cheek. It was cold, too cold. He missed seeing you alive, having any ounce of warmth from your body. It was such a loss when he had to take and cut off your rotten body parts. He wanted you to be perfect.

Yoongi planted a kiss on the top of your severed head, a stray tear going down his face. “I'll get you back my love, I need you back.”

🪡

You blinked, seeing as you were covered in a sheet. Taking a deep breath you breathed in the scent of fresh linen. A shadow came over you, peering at your covered body. Your head was uncovered as you looked into a man's face. Blonde hair and dark eyes that sparkled once seeing you.

His hand trembled as he ran his shaking thumb on the side of your face. “Y- You're alive… you… you're beautiful.” His lips came to the top of your head, as he kissed it. You tried to speak but all that came out was a small squeak.

But the man found this amusing. “It seems like you forgot everything… Seems as if I didn't have my science all down.” He adds smiling. He held your hand helping you to move off the lab table. You almost immediately fall, the man taking your arm and holding you up. “Don't fall now come on let's get you to the wheel chair.”

He placed you down gently, running his hand over your stitches. He pulled at a few and securing them. “Okay, it's all in place… I'm so happy you're back. Well not all the way back I just have to do some reteaching. Like me, I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi your husband.”

Yoongi made faces to help you pronounce his name correctly. “Y-You. Yoon-gi.” You finally muttered out in which Yoongi smiled and kissed your head.

“See look how easy it is for my brilliant wife to learn. I'm going to reteach it all to you my love…That and so much more…”

🪡

Having to be retaught everything wasn't the most normal feeling. But Yoongi, was more than helpful in making you remember who you were and the basics of living.

Yet he pushed for your captivity within the walls of his mansion. You stay at his feet most of the time while he worked and wrote letters.

He even constantly reminded you of your beauty and how you were the most beautiful girl hes ever seen. It was sweet in your eyes yet you were surrounded by so many depictions of beauty that weren't what you looked like. Different shades and natural movement you've yet to nail down.

But still you wondered about what existed past the mansions walls. Especially the village in the distance. You wondered about the women there and if they looked and aced like you. Your mind was busy and it could be shown on your face.

Snap!

You blinked as Yoongi snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Sorry, I was thinking.” You said quietly looking back towards Yoongi as he read a book.

“Thinking? About what?”

“I don't… look like. The paintings. Or the films.” You were able to piece together to form a sentence. It was degrading yes but true.

“Well who told you that?” Yoongi inquires while raising a brow at you. Gulping at the sternness in his voice, you speak up against him.

“No one told me that. I… I don't look like them. I don't, look like any of the women you've shown me.” You say getting up from your spot besides Yoongi. You look out the window in his study at the town in the far off distance. “I bet the village has-”

Yoongi gets up and grabs your hand gently. He runs his hand down the side of your face and leads you to turn away from the window. “Is that what this is about? Going into town?” He mumbles leaning into your neck. He peppered kisses along a stitch that tickled in particular. You giggled and looked at Yoongi your mind going blank at what you were mad at. “Is that better my love?”

“Mhmm. Yes Yoongi…”

“Good let's continue reading.”

🪡

Of course the thought came back.

The lights and the sounds of joy and fun. It haunts you, the time known as Halloween the same night as tonight. Yet here you were with Yoongi, his body over your own.

His thrusts increased in speed as he pounded into you. It was weird how full he made you feel. But you didn't mind it, you enjoyed it actually. Yoongi wrapped a hand around your stitched throat, pinning you to the bed. You let out a groan as Yoongi filled up your cunt, his cum spilling from inside of you. He pulled out and laid on top of you, peppering more kisses along your face.

“That was amazing…” Yoongi mumbles as he rolls over from on top of you. He wraps a arm around your naked form. You feel his lips against the middle of your neck, and soon the silent breathing known as sleep.

Tonight was the night.

No matter what you were getting out of here.

You hobble out of bed, limping towards the wardrobe. You grabbed a sweater he made for you and a long white skirt. Throwing both of them on you sneak out of the bedroom. You head to the bathroom and wipe your legs, making sure you were clean. You quietly make your way down the stairs to the front door. You look back making sure Yoongi wasn't behind you.

Nothing.

So you kept moving. Walking along the side of the road, dirt and rocks digging into the bottom of your feet. Your limp was soon gone as the pain dulled. It was a long walk and you made it eventually. Finally you see orange light shining on your face.

The village was full of people. Children dressed up as well as adults. Peering into windows you saw fashion portrayed in paintings and jewelry Yoongi only showed you from books of art. You ran a hand down the window but was pulled from it as you felt a touch on your shoulder.

There was a woman, her face framed by brown hair pulled into a bun. Stray hairs fell down her face. She was a tad bit older, but not too old. “Hi, were you looking at the jewelry in there?” She asked smiling. You nodded and she nodded with you giggling. “You don't talk much huh? It's alright, I was asking because I was going to buy it for you.”

Clearing your throat you finally spoke up, “Really?” You exclaimed excitedly. She nodded and pulled you into the shop.

“Choose anything I don't mind.” She says looking at the wall of fancy jewelry. “I have no one to spend it on so why not you…” Finally you choose one silver necklace with a diamond pendant in the center. Your plan was to give it to Yoongi, as a sort of thank you. It would also double as a apology for leaving when you eventually did come back. e woman purchased it and smiled taking you out of the store.

A gush of wind made you shiver and the woman gasped. “You're freezing, come on. I'll give you something to eat and get you warmed up.” You didn't know why but you followed behind the woman as she led you to her small quaint home in the village. You enter and are welcomed by a fireplace.

It was something you never felt nor seen your entire life, even if it was as small as it was. “Go sit by the fire while I go heat up some soup.” The woman says ushering you to go sit by the fire. You do, the warmth making everything feel better. It was bright and brilliant as Yoongi would've said.

You were passed a bowl of chicken noodle soup. It had vegetables and overall smelled delicious. The woman passed you a spoon and draped a blanket over you. Yoongi taught you to how use utensils, so you were familiar as you began to eat. “Good isn't it? I'm Sarah by the way, Sarah Paulson, the towns widow or whatever they want to fucking call me.” Sarah said making you gasp. Her language made you laugh yet also made you amused. Yoongi usually only spoke like that during sex or under his breath.

Was never for you to pay attention to nor recite

“What's a widow?” You ask eating more. Sarah seemed more than happy to have someone to talk too. She sat down on the couch, becoming even more comfortable.

“Well, a widow is someone whose husband or lover has died. It's mainly the villages women trying to make fun of me. But I say hey, if I'm a widow than I'm a widow.” Sarah exclaimed. “What about you? What's your name and slash or title?”

That made you think. You knew your name but what were you. After telling you your name, you went quiet. “I don't think I have a title. Except for what Yoongi calls me.”

“Wait like Min Yoongi? The one that lives in the mansion out of town?” Sarah asks looking at you with a inquisitive eye. You nod slowly and she looks away looking out the window. “Oh you poor thing. You don't even know the half of it do you?”

You shake your head no looking at Sarah. “W-What? You have to tell me.”

“Yoongi he… he stopped coming into town a while ago. He was caught digging up corpses, he went to me as he lost his lover and wanted some common ground with someone who understood him.” Sarah started but you cut her off.

“But, I'm his lover. He told me I was his one and only…” You say frantically.

“He had another, no one saw her though. He kept her in that mansion for fucks sake. He wanted to try and revive my husband, Mr Paulson. But I told him no…” Sarah trailed off and took a look at your neck and arms. She let out a quiet gasp as she moved to sit next to you. She ran a thumb over one of the stitches. “You're her… his creation.”

You furrowed your brows and looked at Sarah with concerned eyes. “I- What? What are you talking about? I'm his love, no I'm not-”

“You're a bunch of body parts… God I'm so sorry… your brain. He must've had to throw out your old one… he kept going at it. He kept running the experiment to revive Mrs Min.” Sarah said bringing you in for a hug. You quickly hugged her back crying into her shoulder. But she pulled away so you could look at her. “He's going to come looking… and I don't want you to get hurt. Yoongi is crazy… and you need to hide.”

A loud set of bangs were heard from her front door. Sarah covered you in the blanket and bent down to whisper. “Lay down and don't move, I'm going to try and save you.” Sarah said and you listened. You trusted her, but you couldn't see Yoongi as a violent man. But finding out all you now knew you couldn't risk it.

You heard the door open and feet moving into the home further. “Where did you put her?” You heard a voice that was similar to Yoongis speak up.

“Put who? Don't tell me you've found a new lover. Did you remarry Mr. Min?” Sarah said, keeping her tone respectful. She kept away from the living room where you laid on the ground.

“Don't play dumb. You are the only one I told about her.” Yoongis voice raised and you heard more steps being took away from you and towards where the first set stopped. You started to slowly move, one limb at a time, to under the couch.

“Well yes, but I didn't even know you succeeded in your experiment. Congratulations on that but you'd trust the people who rat you out about the body snatching?” Sarah came back stepping away and moving in a circle to the front of the couch. “Besides quiet rude entering my house this way, don't you think?”

“Rude my ass, I know she's in here. If there's anything those people want is to get me away from them. So they'll lead me in a direction to where I don't have to talk to them and I'm not going to be mad with them. So that leads to you.” Yoongis voice raised as he stood in front of the couch towering over Sarah. “So I'll ask one final time, where is she?”

“Get out of my ho-”

BANG!

You covered your mouth as the sound of a revolver echoed from within the home. You felt your cheeks grow wet.

“Where are you my love? I'm not mad I promise, it's okay I knew this would happen.” There it was, that sweet voice that was always coated in honey to coax you successfully. You moved from under the couch and let the blanket fall from your head. Yoongis face was covered in Sarah's blood as he gasped pulling you in for a hug. He kissed your head and lips, hands on your cheeks. “I was worried sick!”

“W- I'm… what ju-” You were cut off as you felt the necklace you brought earlier being pulled from your hand.

“Is this for me?” You nodded. “Thank you baby… this is beautiful my love.” He put it on and smiled at you keeping his thumb on your cheek. You kept stuttering though, confused and unaware of what just happened to you. “Shhh, it's okay just stay with me from now on okay? I can keep you safe, forever.” Yoongi said keeping your head faced away from the half bloodied mess that he made of Sarah's head.

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