#they’re literally always on my mind I’m not joking

[basket-of-loquats]

after the show

[Image description: A pencil drawing, digitally colored, of Jung Hoseok and Park Jimin. They sit on a bed together. Hoseok is painting Jimin’s nails. They’re both smiling fondly at each other. End ID.]

[seluneclerics]

can i be cheesy for just a moment and say how much i love these two? for all BG3’s faults (it has many, particularly with how it deals with black/nonwhite characters but i’ll discuss that in a separate post), i’ve never felt this connected to a sapphic romance in a game like, ever.

the progression of tav’s relationship with SH is something so dear to me. watching this woman who’s been abused for the better part of 40 years slowly open herself back up the world and trust someone….

i could write dissertations. essays. books. all about shadowtav. specifically wlw shadowtav.

i’ll post headcanons about valeris/shadowheart if the mood ever takes me. i just… think about them forever. always. my favorite butchfemme couple

[goblin-enjoyer]

*draws something for the first time in a while. “Man I suck at drawing! Maybe go back to being good at it if I draw more!”

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

“Oh I got a neat idea for a drawing! Surely I have gotten better by now!” Loop post

[allofuswantgwinam]

my mom literally wants to be clueless and im so sick of hearing her say that

[lowkeyren]

BUT YOU BELONG TO ME!

in which — some jealousy headcanons / scenarios for our favourite luofu men!

featuring — dan heng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 1.8k, from req: here!, they're so silly goodbye, march + fu xuan cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!!!

#DAN HENG

look me in the eyes and tell me dan heng wouldn’t be the “i'm jealous, but i don’t wanna show it” (but it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that he’s jealous) type, you can’t.

definitely amusing to watch him play it cool, cus he has nothing else going on in his brain when you’re within 10 metre radius from him. 

honestly it would have to be quite specific situations if he ever gets jealous because he likes to keep you close by his side as often as possible. dating or not, he would have some sort of protective instinct —always making sure you’re secure and cared for. (and yes of course march teases him for it, he never admits it though.)

dan heng tries to focus on the book in his hands, but his mind refuses to make any sense of the words on the page —at least not when you’re standing so close to boothill. (too close for his liking anyway)

the cyborg sits at the opposite end of the couch where dan heng was, while you deftly adjust a compartment of his, engaging in small talk as he makes lighthearted jokes with you. dan heng hears your laughter ring out; the laughter that he adores so dearly, the laughter that never fails to warm his chest, and the laughter he wishes he was the reason for instead.

his eyes flicker up from the page to sneak a glance at you, the way your hands glide over boothill's body churns an ugly feeling, twisting in his chest. he shifts in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the unease remains.

his focus on you is suddenly shattered by a loud voice that belongs to no other than march, "dan heng, if you grip that book any harder, you might tear off a page." she stands in front of him, hands on her waist. 

“the way i am holding my book is perfectly fine, now if you will, i must get back to re—”

“oh c’mon! we all know your ass is not actually reading that book!” he raises an eyebrow, and march only rolls her eyes in response. “it’s literally upside-down.” she teases, unable to hold back a chuckle. 

dan heng glances down at the book in his hands, finally noticing the upside-down text, to which he quickly closes the book and puts it down. "maybe i was just testing your observational skills.”

march shakes her head, "yeah right… just admit you’re too busy staring at them!”

“no i’m n—” he begins to protest but is interrupted when you suddenly appear in front of him. “staring at who?” you tilt your head curiously, and he can only hope that you don’t hear the loud thumping of his heart. 

march giggles as she runs off to who-knows-where, he silently curses her for leaving him in this predicament. he manages to regain his composure, though his cheeks retain a faint pink hue. “ahem, anyway…” he trails off when you sit down next to him, your thighs brushing against each other.

alright you can’t keep doing this to him. he’s not a cyborg but it certainly seems like he’s malfunctioning at that moment. (though he doesn't mind if you have to “repair” him next; he considers it far preferable to having your hands on boothill anyway.)

#BLADE

this guy REEKS of jealousy. 

he gets jealous over anything —saying “good night!” to an acquaintance? well unfortunately, i don’t think they’re going to be having a very good night; a friendly smile from a passerby? the sudden chill in the air accompanied by his sharp glare is enough to make them rethink their life decisions. 

and the worst part? he knows it. he's aware of how irrational his jealousy can be, but that doesn't stop the surge of possessiveness that washes over him.

(deep down, he just wants to feel secure in your attention and affection, but it’s true that his jealousy sometimes gets the better of him.) 

blade’s “things to get rid of” list exponentially grows with each passing day, ranging from general items he sees no use of, to addresses of people who have wronged you in the past. 

but there’s one item on the list that stands out from the rest, the one item he can’t seem to bring himself to get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

37. “blade plushie”

okay but what kind of website is “stellaron hunters fan merch for sell.com” anyway? since when do they have a fanbase, and why did you have to buy a plushie of him, of all things? 

he shoots daggers at the plushie sitting on your bed, on his side of your bed. while he can't always be by your side, surely there's no need for an inferior replacement?

blade sits down beside you, discreetly moving the plushie out of the way. just as you turn to reach for it, he wraps his arm around you and snuggles up to your side; you immediately pause at his affectionate gesture; his hair brushes against your neck as he buries his face into it.

“blade.. what are you doing?” you turn your attention to him, much to his delight. 

“why not spend more time with the real deal instead of… that.” he tightens his grip around you, at this point he isn’t even trying to hide his jealousy (over a plushie lmao) anymore. 

"you mean mr. edgelord...?" you barely manage to stifle your laughter as blade shoots up beside you. doesn’t hurt to tease him for a bit, right?

“what did you say… “edgelord”?” he scoffs, his face twisting into a scowl. he can’t believe you gave that thing a nickname, how ridiculous. he makes a mental note to get rid of it asap. 

“yeah, what about it? jealous that he’s better than you?” you smirk, leaning in close to his face. perhaps you’re enjoying his expression of pure bitterness a little too much, who knew such a handsome face could look so hilariously indignant? 

his eyes twinkle in amusement, before closing in the distance. “hah, never.” his tone tinged with a touch of possessiveness that he can't quite hide.

“really? you seem like you’re about to kill it.” you wrap your arms around his neck, his expression softens for just a split second, but you’re able to catch it anyway. “would you please spare mr. edgelord if i give you a kiss?”

he doesn’t respond with words; he presses his lips against yours, gently cradling the back of your head. (you quickly turn mr. edgelord to face the wall before blade pulls you away)

maybe he’ll spare “it” for another day or so, just don’t let him catch you hugging “it” in your sleep again, alas you want “it” to suffer the same fate as the others on his list.

#JING YUAN

hmm our beloved general… well he trusts you, and believes that you won’t do anything rash; but on the other hand there are just some things that neither of you can control, whether it’s letters sent in to ask for his hand in marriage or admires trying to sweep you off your feet (before he can). 

though not many people would approach you once your relationship goes public, given that he’s the general and all. but imagine him before the two of you became official, clinging to you to fend off your admirers, and the expression on their faces when you shake your head, denying that you’re dating at all. 

“as for the situation at cloudford— general, are you even listening?” fu xuan furrows her brows, and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed. “ah my apologies lady fu, please keep going.” jing yuan only flashes a half-hearted smile at her before glancing over to your direction again.

you feel a pair of eyes boring into your back, undoubtedly jing yuan’s; but you pay it no mind, choosing to focus on the discussion at hand. his grip on his teacup tightens when he sees the foxian talking to you leans closer to catch your words. fu xuan raises an eyebrow in concern, unaware but still sensing the rising tension; his eyes visibly twitch the moment their hand brushes against yours.

“lady fu, let’s reschedule our meeting for another time. i believe i have some… important matters to attend to.” jing yuan rises up from his seat before fu xuan can reply, swiftly making his way towards you.

you’re startled by the sudden feeling of jing yuan’s arms around you, his chest pressing against your back, as he places his chin against your head. “sorry to interrupt, what’re you two discussing about?” the foxian is taken aback by the general's sudden appearance, and especially by your current position with him. 

“n-nothing general!” the foxian seems to hesitate before continuing, “if it isn’t rude to ask, are the two of you…in a relationship?” jing yuan’s face lights up with his usual lazy smile, but this time it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

your eyes widen in surprise as he presses his lips against your nape, you shiver at his touch, a rush of warmth spreads across your cheeks. you should deny it, to say that you're not in a relationship at all, but you can't bring yourself to. instead, you divert your gaze from the foxian, hoping to spare yourself any further embarrassment.

“go on, tell them.” he whispers lowly so that only you can hear him. this bastard, you’re going to give him a stern talking to after this..! “sorry to cut this short, please excuse us.” you give a polite nod before pulling the general away.

two days later, as you’re walking along the streets of central starskiff haven, you come across a group of people gathered around a stall. curious, you head over to check out what’s happening. —you’re absolutely mortified to discover stacks of articles detailing recent events of you and jing yuan.

“breaking news! the general is secretly married?!” / “the truth behind general jing yuan’s relationship status” / “rumours confirmed: a detailed guide to the general of luofu’s relationship saga”

well at least the pictures of you and jing yuan got your good side… and your bad side, and your “i definitely did not sign up for this” side. and oh look, there’s one of you dragging jing yuan by his ponytail too, how wonderful, you’re definitely purchasing that one. 

but yeah no, you’re not beating the allegations after this. 

masterlist

[worldlxvlys]

can you do a fic where chris and reader are dating and reader interacts with all the edits of chris on tiktok and fangirls with the chris girls.

TIK TOK

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing, sexual jokes

a/n: i kinda love this, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone do a tik tok social au before

lmk what you think

**click yes to actually watch the edits**

WATCH VIDEO?

yes scroll

COMMENTS:

@ y/n

good LORD THAT MAN IS FINE 😩

@lustfulslxt

oh i’m DRENCHED

y/n -> the sturniolo police abt to get ur ass (same)

@flowerxbunnie

suddenly i’m on my knees 🫠

y/n -> literally me

@sturnssx

y/n is so lucky but idk if i wanna be her or chris more

y/n -> i’d want myself too honestly (i’m kidding i love chris)

@mattslolita

why is he not in my bed rn ??

y/n -> sorry bae he’s in mine ✌🏾i’ll tell him to go visit u later !

@its-jennarose

HOW IS HE REAL?

y/n -> the way that i genuinely ask myself this question on a daily basis

@sophssturn

GOD DAYUM 😨

y/n -> fr like who does bro think he is ??

@bernardsleftbootycheek

THIS IS CRAZY GOOD

y/n -> idk which is crazier, your username or this edit ( both eat tho)

@queen161718

the fact that y/n is always just lurking in the comment sections of chris edits absolutely takes me out 😭😭

y/n -> gotta support my man and his talented ass fansss

@cupidsword

i need him BAD

y/n -> same (i already have him)

@imwetforyourmom

i just need one chance 😫

y/n -> nah bae, he’s got a brother thooo !

WATCH VIDEO?

yes scroll

COMMENTS:

@ y/n

his hair is really nice 🤭

@evieolo -> I’M SAYINGGGGG

@nickmillersn1gf

it always looks so soft and fluffyyyy

@mbbsgf -> if he ever shaved it off i would cry

y/n -> you and me both sis

@mattsneezing

yesss, i love my husband’s hairrrr 😍

y/n -> aren’t you a matt girl ?? where’s your sense of loyalty ??

@chrisstankyleg

my man is looking FINE

y/n -> girl, i don’t know how to tell you this…

@sturniolobltch

even the paparazzi is obsessed with his hair

@sturniolowhore -> can’t even blame them

@bethsturn -> he’s just so 😫

@ y/n -> you guys get it

@bernardenjoyer

biting my phone rn

y/n -> glad i’m not the only one !

@rac00ns-are-c00l4

long hair chris >>>

@ y/n -> NO FR, IDK WHY HE KEEPS CUTTING IT

WATCH VIDEO ?

yes. scroll.

COMMENTS.

@ y/n

MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNN

@chrisloyalgf

it’s a good day to be a chris girl

y/n -> it’s a good day to be chris’s girl

@urmom2bitch

HIS FINGERS GOOD LORD

@ y/n -> they’re long as hellll 😋

@defnotayonna -> wdym by that 🤨

@ssturniolo

chris girls, how y’all doing ??

y/n -> I’M LOSING MY MIND RN

@judespoision

i’m just a sturniolo girl atp

y/n -> AS YOU SHOULDDDD

@ y/n

HELP CHRIS JUST ASKED ME WHY THIS AUDIO HAS BEEN REPLAYING FOR SO LONG

@blueeyedbesson -> not you watching chris edits while you’re with him 😭

@ y/n -> THEY’RE SO ADDICTING

@hearts4chriss -> oh hey boo tell my man i said hey 😛

@ y/n -> oh is matt your man now ??

@ hearts4chriss -> …girl don’t play with me

@chrisstopherfilmed

GRIPPING MY SHEETS RN

@starsturniolo -> he’s so fineeeee 😩

@robins-scoop -> LIKE WHY ISN’T THIS MAN IN MY BED ??

@ y/n -> sorry y’all he’s in mine !

WATCH VIDEO ?

yes. no.

COMMENTS

@ y/n

PERIODDD YOU CLEARED SHOWING THIS TO CHRIS IMMEDIATELY

@ y/n

damnnn me and flo milli twinninggg 🤞🏾

@ christophersturniolo -> oh look at that it’s night

@readerakayourname -> CHRIS 😭

@fandomhopped -> he’s so real for that honestly

@ y/n

i’m absolutely obsessed with that first clip

@yamamasjumpercables -> i want this edit engraved in my brain

@ y/n -> no LITERALLY

@ineedchriscock

i’d let him choke me any day

@ y/n -> where is your self respect 😧 ( literally same )

@luverboychris

the only person’s babies i’d carry

@ y/n -> WHAT 😭😭 (real)

WATCH VIDEO ?

yes. no.

COMMENTS

@ y/n

his frat boy era will be missed 😔🙏

@rootbeerworshiper -> frat boy chris >>>>>

@ y/n

song choice >>>>>

@ christophersturniolo -> i wanna watch u get naked !

@ y/n -> then come over ???

@patscorner -> oh !

@junnniiieee07 -> ik those are the lyrics but i don’t think they’re joking 😭

@ y/n -> 🤫

@chr1sgirl4life -> THAT’S MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNN 😍

@breeloveschris -> incorrect that’s MY man !

@ y/n -> idk how to tell y’all this…

@nicksmainbitch

this audio choice was the best decision you could’ve ever made

@vanteguccir -> this song is so chris coded

@55sturn -> frat boy chris + this song 😩

@mayhem-72 -> his smirk ?? are we kidding ??

@ y/n -> bros ego is INFLAMMED

he ain’t even the fart fr

WATCH VIDEO ?

yes. no.

COMMENTS

@ y/n

BODY ROCK OH I WANNA FEEL YOUR BODY ROCKKKKKKKK

@endereies

CHRIS + JUSTIN ??? THIS EATSS

@ y/n -> i’m sayingggggg

@sturniolosmind

smash !

@ y/n -> oh (i agree)

@disturbedwoodelf -> i love how no matter what chris edit i’m watching y/n is always in the comment section

@ y/n -> AND AMMM

@ mattsturniolo -> she has nothing better to do

@ y/n -> alr fuck you too then

-> and you can’t be talking you had to click at least 5 different drop down arrows to even find this reply

@ mattsturniolo -> i’m very busy actually

@ christophersturniolo -> matt you’re literally walking around the house catching pokemon

@nikolastrn -> damn they gagged you 💀

@bernardsbendystraws -> i’d rock his shit

@ y/n -> what do i even say to this

@ berbardsbendystraws -> wanna join in ??

@ y/n -> oh my 😨 (🤭)

CREDITS

@ frxy on tiktok

@ bl6tts on tiktok

@ sturniolo.vfx_ on tiktok

@ strvnloml on tiktok

@ chrislover476 on tiktok

@ edzbyang on tiktok

this took me wayyyyy too long to make, but it was so funnnn

lmk if you want more like this :)

no tag list cause i tagged y’all in the actual fic 😝

masterlist

[sectumsempraaa]

Roadtripping

Pairing: they’re all in love w/ you lol x fem!reader

Word count: 1.9k

T/W: none

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo

Summary: It’s a three day weekend at Hogwarts, and you want to make the most of it. But roadtripping with a bunch of Slytherin boys (who would do anything for you) means bickering, flirting, and a road-side emergency.

A/N: Some silly nonsense I came up with today. Needed a little fun 🤭

“Absolutely not.” Draco commands, his tone as stern as ever as he jangles the car keys in his right hand.

“Come on, you stubborn twit. You always drive!” Mattheo complains, his voice like that of a cranky teenager.

“There’s a reason for that, Mr. I-Swear-I-Won’t-Speed-Again,” Draco responds as the two of them bicker in front of the castle, waiting for the rest of the gang to meet.

You make your way downstairs with Theodore and Lorenzo, both of them helping to carry your luggage, despite your insisting that you were fine on your own.

It’s a three day weekend at Hogwarts and the Slytherin crew has decided to roadtrip for it, an idea you proposed that was met with immediate enthusiasm.

But let’s face it, you could suggest swimming with sharks and these boys would do it. Oh, you’re asking? Then the answer is yes.

You pick up on Draco and Mattheo’s argument as it becomes less distant. You roll your eyes, laughing to yourself as Theo and Enzo drop the bags next to the disagreeing couple.

“It was ONE ticket, TWO years ago, and-”

“One deep, unforgivable scratch on MY passenger door.” Draco sneers, lunging towards Mattheo as the argument intensifies. “You think I’m putting your clumsy arse behind the wheel with precious Y/N in the car?”

Yeah. It’s time to step in.

“Matty, baby, maybe we should take the backseat on this one. But, literally.” You interject with your soft, angelic voice and a comforting hand squeezing his shoulder.

The second he turns to you, his expression melts into a state of calm. His eyebrows relax as the corners of his mouth turn slightly up.

“As long as you’re back there with me, sweetheart,” He suggests, each word laced with a child-like hope.

“Sure-” you start, before you’re interrupted by Theo.

“What the hell gives you the right to assign seats? Especially for Y/N, who should obviously be next to me instead,” Theo retorts.

“And why’s that? So she can hold your hand when you get car sick?” Lorenzo mocks while holding his stomach and laughing, earning a middle finger from Theo in reply. Lorenzo continues to plead his case.

“I’m the perfect shoulder height if Y/N wants to take a nap. Therefore, she’s sitting next to me.”

“Can’t nap on them if they’re dislocated.” Theo grimaces as he takes an intimidating step towards Lorenzo.

You can’t help but giggle at the ensuing debate over something so trivial. At this point, there’s no use in trying to interfere. You stride over to Draco who silently observes the others with a permanent scowl.

“Hey, should we go warm up the car?” You ask, wrapping your hands around his arm.

“And make them drag all the luggage over themselves?” He suggests.

“You read my mind, Malfoy.” You smile, your agreement earning one from him in return. A wave of peace washes over his features, an effect you commonly have on the boys.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you should sit in the back.” Draco says as you give him a knowing look on the walk to the car.

“To keep the storm at bay in the backseat?”

“That, and I think the whole lot might implode if they can’t access you. You just tell me when you need a break from babysitting.” He playfully nudges your side, placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

You both turn to the sound of the boys moaning and groaning while struggling to carry all the bags to the car.

“Meeting adjourned?” You joke as the boys catch their breath. Mattheo pipes in to respond, pointing a finger at you.

“You. Backseat. Center. Now.”

—

And so the trip begins.

Well, it would have started sooner if Enzo hadn’t needed two rest stops almost immediately, blaming it on his alcohol consumption from the night before. Followed by Draco demanding him to “just hold it,” which resulted in many verbal threats.

“Which one of you foul gits has the aux cord right now?” Mattheo asks with annoyance from your right side.

“We’ve been listening to this classical shit since we bloody left,” Theo snarls from your left as he stretches an arm around you, fiddling with the fabric on your shoulder.

“Guys, it’s Draco’s car, so it’s only fair he gets to choose.” You defend your driver despite it ending with pouts from the others. You can’t help but notice the blush forming on Draco’s face.

“It’s the radio, you blubbering idiot. You can change it if you like.” Draco offers.

Lorenzo’s hand almost immediately reaches for the knobs, turning it to classic rock and boosting the volume way too high for anyone’s liking.

“My god, turn that trash down, Enzo!” Theo yells from the backseat, completely ignored by a headbanging, dashboard-drumming Enzo. “Fine then,”

Theo leans forward, hoisting his whole upper body over the front seat in order to turn it down.

“Y/N, darling, you need anything?” Draco asks, catching your eyes in the mirror.

“I’d take a stretch. Oh, and a snack!” You reply, to which all heads turn to you like you’re some kind of genius.

Mattheo gasps with excitement. “Brilliant brain this one has, yeah?!” He laughs as he places his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. He gives you a wink, acting like no one else in the car even exists.

Draco agrees, informing the group of the next rest stop in nearly 20 miles.

To this, you sigh and let a yawn escape you. Mattheo’s eyes light up as you remove his hand from your chin and wrap it around yourself, sinking into his side as you close your eyes.

Seemingly in unison, the other three boys observe your movement with looks of envy raging in their eyes. Even Draco, who should be keeping his eyes on the road, scoffs and mumbles to himself.

“God damnit, I should never have put her back there.”

“Mind if I nap here for 20 miles?” You ask Mattheo, knowing full well he would never deny you.

“You can nap here for eternity, love. I’m not going anywhere.” Mattheo wraps his other arm, both around your waist now, and shifts so the back of your head rests on his chest. Theo chimes in with his reaction.

“Great, so I’ll just sit here on the verge of illness and watch the girl of my dreams take comfort on this half-wit.”

“Yup.” Mattheo responds with a smug, shit-eating grin.

—

You awaken suddenly to a loud thud, jolting you from your small nap. A groan from Mattheo leads you to believe he was asleep, too.

“Great mother of fuck!” Draco blurts out, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Shit, Draco, what was that?” Lorenzo asks as Theo looks out the window to investigate. His head turns both ways before landing on the culprit.

“Mio dio… flat tire, mate.” Theo announces to the rest of the car.

You’d just barely made it to the next rest stop before driving over some glass on the road that unfortunately has you pulled over on the side of the road now.

The whole crew gets out, Theo looking relieved at the lack of motion. Draco bends down to take a look at the tire, his hands grazing its surface. He takes a long, determined pause.

“Is there… a spell for this?” He asks sheepishly.

“You’re joking, right? You can’t use magic out here.” Theo answers, gesturing to the busy highway passing by you. He saunters over to you, pulling you in his arms.

“Sorry, bella. I’ll buy you a snack after we fix this.” He rests his head on top of yours as you breathe in his scent.

An idea occurs to you, luckily, just as Lorenzo picks a fight with Theo over who’s buying you lunch.

You walk back to where Draco is and kneel beside him as he continues to observe the tire with defeat in his eyes.

“Draco darling,” you start, instantly winning his affection. His ice blue stare melts into yours as you rest a hand on his knee. “Do you have a spare?”

“A spare what?”

Your eyes close briefly in impatience, willing yourself to understand his privileged upbringing. Instead of asking again, you stand up and proceed to check the trunk for a tire. And to your surprise, you find one.

The other boys are too distracted trying to come up with solutions and trying to flag down other cars to notice your initiative. Draco helps you roll it to the side of the car, looking hesitant as you kneel back down.

“Tools?” You ask.

“Tools!” He affirms, quickly making his way back with a box of everything you need. “You sure you know how to-” he starts, cut off by your annoyed glare.

“Are you underestimating me, Malfoy?” To which he merely shakes his head and swallows, regretting his question and watching you return to the task before you.

“Can I help?” Draco coos, his eyes filled with apology.

“You just sit there and look pretty. Oh, and make sure those morons don’t get run over.” You joke, throwing a wink his way. He stands up and gathers the other boys, assuring them you’re going to be on the road again soon.

“You’re making her change the tire?!” Lorenzo yells, completely appalled.

“She’s our only hope right now, Enzo. You want to walk the extra eight miles to fetch her a sandwich?” Draco grits his teeth while scolding the boy. You give Enzo a shrug and a sympathetic look in return.

After a solid fifteen minutes, the new tire is installed and ready to go.

You find the boys sitting in the field, laughing uncontrollably and generally… enjoying each other. Which, for the first time on this trip, is extremely refreshing.

“Hey lovebirds!” You call from the side of the car, gesturing to your job well done. All four heads turn, once again, in unison in your direction. Mattheo the first to physically stand up, running over to you and nearly tackling you over.

He lifts you up and spins you in his arms while the others admire your finished product. Lorenzo pipes in first.

“Jeez, Y/N, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Gods, and I thought I couldn’t fall more in love with her.” Theo swoons.

“I told you she has a brilliant brain,” Mattheo remarks.

“While the lot of you were having playdates in mansions, I was out in the country. My father taught me how to get out of almost any situation.” You respond, the group looking at you like they worship you.

“C’mere you gorgeous thing,” Draco beckons, the rest of them crowding around you for the first and only group hug they’ve ever performed.

“Our fucking hero, principessa.” Theo declares. “We wouldn’t last two days without you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You state with the utmost confidence and a dramatic eye roll.

The tightness of their arms envelopes you, and you realize suddenly this might not have been the best idea. Your small celebration is quickly ambushed by the boys.

“Who’s touching my arse?”

“No one wants to touch your arse, you idiot.”

“Hey, don’t talk shit about Matty’s arse,” Theo joins in.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be buying us lunch?”

“No, I’m supposed to be buying Y/N lunch.” Theo grabs you and pulls you away from the group, earning a playful yelp from you.

“My brilliant bella. What would we do without you?”

You look back at your boys; your helpless and immature, yet loving and fiercely loyal boys.

“I have no answer for you, Theo. I don’t want to imagine a life without you.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[halsteadlover]

𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Pregnant!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: being pregnant isn’t the easiest thing to go through but you always want to be there and support your fiancée during his races no matter what. Charles, however, being his overprotective self can’t help but constantly worry about you.

• Warnings: pregnancy as you might see 😂 and I don’t think anything else, just fluff.

• Word count: 2405.

• A/N: what can I say? I’m such a sucker for worried!dad fics they’re actually my kryptonite so here it is 😭 it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted but I hope you’ll like this, please let me know what you think and comment, reblog and like if you want and I apologize for any mistake ❤️ I love you all and thank you for you constant support 💕

Being a pregnant woman in the middle of summer heat was far worse than you would’ve ever expected.

As you made your way towards the paddock you tried to ignore the paparazzi who kept trying to get your attention, your mind focused on just trying to stay upright and not faint in the middle of the crowd as your hand kept resting on your belly.

You literally felt like a hot air balloon ready to explode and you had just entered your eighth month. “Bébé!” Charles’ voice caught your attention and a smile appeared on your lips as you saw him run towards you, leaving the engineers he was talking to standing there with a confused look on their faces as soon as he saw you.

He immediately hugged you, taking meticulous care not to press his body against your belly and then wrapping his arm around your waist as he led you away from the crowd towards the garage. Before you could say anything he got you a bottle of water, ordering you without mincing words to drink it.

“Are you okay? You needed to rest chérie, it’s too hot in here and the heat isn’t good for you and the baby,” he began to ramble, one hand caressing your bump.

“Babe I’m fine, I know the heat is unbearable but I can manage to stay here, I want to be with you,” you replied after drinking the water. You placed a hand on his face, stroking his skin and seeing his features visibly relax.

He took the half-drunk bottle from your hands, looking at you intently and scanning your face as if he was looking for some sign of hesitation. “I know baby, you’re both always my lucky charms but I’d rather you not take any risks.”

You fanned yourself with the paper you held between your fingers, feeling your forehead and the rest of your body sweat. “Oh come on Charles what risks are you talking about? I’m surrounded by people if anything happens…” You burst out laughing at the way his face contorted when you said those last words. “Darling, just stay calm okay? The baby and I are both fine. Now just focus on the race, go do your job and kick everyone’s ass.”

Charles cupped his hands over your face, pulling you closer to him and pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “If anything happens and I mean anything you call me, are we understood? Even if you need me to tie your shoes,” he had whispered, looking intently into your eyes making sure to let you know he wasn’t joking at all.

“Good thing I’m wearing sandals then.”

“Chérie…” .

You rolled your eyes. “Everything will be fine I promise and I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“That’s more like it.” He gave you another kiss. “I want you to be safe. I’ll go now. I love you so much baby.”

“I love you so much more.”

Charles pulled away from you, only to bend down on his knees and rest his hands on your bump before leaving a kiss on it. “And you try to be a good boy and let mommy rest okay? See you later little one, dad loves you.”

Your heart exploded with joy and maybe it was the hormones, but you found yourself putting a hand in front of your mouth to keep yourself from crying there in front of everyone.

You saw Charles walk away to go back to making the final preparations for the race, but not before he turned one last time to look at you and blow you a kiss.

God I love this man.

Charles had always been very protective of you, from the first moments you got together, always being careful to leave you in safe places when you came to the paddock, always shielding you with his body when you were in the middle of a crowd, but ever since you got pregnant his protective instinct went to the roof.

You didn’t complain, even though it could be intense and a little frustrating at times, you loved how he cared so much about you and your baby and you wouldn’t change it for the world. You loved knowing that no matter what he’d always be there to help you and do anything in his power to make you feel better.

Of course, there was no shortage of small arguments when even getting up to go to the bathroom made him alert and fill you with questions about whether you were okay or not.

But that was another story.

Charles was preparing for the race but he couldn’t help but always glance in your direction, reassuring himself when he saw you sitting and engaging conversation with someone.

“Make sure my fiancée is okay and she has everything she needs,” Charles had ordered even though by now everyone knew these words by heart since he’d say them every time you were there.

In the next hour you tried to keep a neutral expression and pretend everything was fine but the heat was really unbearable and even sitting was becoming painful.

The back pain was killing you, as well as tiredness since the previous night you could barely sleep.

You needed some air, suddenly feeling your head spinning, a wave of atrocious heat passing through your body but even getting up from a damned chair was hard. With quite a few difficulties you managed to do it but a particularly intense dizziness forced you to lean against the wall, your vision darkened and nausea gripping your stomach.

“Y/n hey! You okay?” One of the technicians who was passing by asked you, immediately rushing to you. He took your hand, helping hold you up.

You nodded. “I’m fine… I just need some air.”

“Can you walk?”.

You felt too weak and you knew if you tried you’d just faint so you shook your head.

“Okay, take a few deep breaths, you’ll be fine. Do you want me to call for Charles?”.

“No, no, he’d worry to death and the race is about to start, I don’t want him to lose focus.”

“Y/n he’ll have my head on a plate if I don’t tell him.”

“Please… I just need to relax a bit… I’ll be fine soon. I’m just pregnant those things happen unfortunately.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go in the break room there’s a little bed there. Take few steps at the time.”

Charles meanwhile was finishing putting on his racing suit, talking about the latest strategies and praying that some kind of disaster wouldn’t happen although he wouldn’t be surprised if a wheel flew off or the engine even exploded.

His mind couldn’t help but wander to you too, worried about what you were doing since with the coming and going of people he had lost sight of you.

“I’m going to quickly look for Y/n,” Charles announced, no longer able to stay calm without hearing from you.

“Leclerc we’re about to start, for god’s sake!”.

“I’ll be back in a minute I promise!” He exclaimed before running away without even waiting for the answer.

He made his way among the technicians, the various engineers and analysts scanning the various faces and noticing none of them were you. Fear took over him as he noticed you were no longer sitting where he had left you.

His mind started imagining the worst possible scenarios while telling himself to stay calm, since you probably just went to the bathroom or something. However, when he collided with one of the technicians, his worst fears came true.

“Charles finally!”.

But Charles interrupted him, not wanting to know anything that didn’t concern you and his baby. “Where is Y/n? Did you see her?”.

“That’s why I was looking for you. She’s in the break room…-”

Charles’s eyes widened so much they almost popped out of their sockets and before even letting him finish the sentence he immediately run towards the break room. His heart was pounding in his chest, worse than at the start of any race.

“Why the fuck didn’t anyone call me?!”.

When he opened the door, his worried eyes immediately fixed on you, almost going having a heart attack when he saw the doctor next to you intent on taking your blood pressure.

“Y/n baby! Oh God what happened? Are you okay? Is she okay doctor?” Charles rushed over to you, sitting next to you and immediately taking your free hand in his. He alternated his gaze between you and the doctor and only a second passed before he responded even if it seemed to last an eternity.

You widened your eyes, sending a murderous look at the technician who was helping you just before. He shrugged his shoulders, an apologetic look on his face before he walked away.

“Just a slight drop of her blood pressure due to the heat, I advise you to go home to rest and keep yourself hydrated. This heat is not good.”

“Thank you Doctor.” “Thank you.” You and Charles answered at the same time and the doctor nodded at you before packing up his bag and walking out of the room, leaving you and Charles alone.

“Baby what the fuck? Why didn’t you call me?!” Charles snapped. “What happened?”.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t want to worry you. I’m fine I promise,” you tried to reassure him even if at that moment nothing seemed to be able to calm him down. “I just felt a little dizzy.”

“You gave me a heart attack, fuck. How are you feeling now? The baby?”. He placed a hand on your belly and caressed it, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt his baby kick after a couple of moments.

“Just tired and our baby is fine. But Charles the race is about to start and you shouldn’t be here...”

“I don’t give a fuck about the race, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he replied. “Do you need to go to the hospital? We can go right now if...-”

You placed both hands on his flushed, hot face, stopping his flow of words as you drew imaginary circles on his skin to calm him. “I’m fine baby, now that I’ve gotten some fresh air I feel better.”

“I can’t leave you here, what if you feel sick again? What if you need something?” He spluttered, his worried eyes still looking at you.

“Nothing will happen love.”

He sighed before wrapping his arms around you though and pulling you into a hug, which you immediately returned. He deeply breathed in the scent of your skin, planting kisses on you cheek meanwhile holding you so tightly as if he was afraid you’d fly away.

When he slightly pulled away, he simulated the gesture you had made not long ago and placed his hands on your cheeks, looking at you with so much love while caressing your skin. “I would die if anything happens to either of you, you know that right? I would never forgive myself if you needed me and I wasn’t here to help you.”

You smiled warmly, leaning into his touch. “I know and we’re both so lucky to have you baby but you have to go now. I promise you’ll find me here when the race ends, but I need you to go, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you stayed here because of me. This is your job, what will you do when the baby is born? You’ll just retire?”.

“Well…”

“Charles Leclerc,” you interrupted in an authoritative tone. “Get your cute ass up and go. I’ll. Be. Fine. Now go baby, you have a race to win.”

Charles remained silent, watching you conflicted about what to do. You softly kissed him. “It’s okay love, go.”

He finally nodded feebly even though he wasn’t remotely convinced of this choice. He didn’t feel like leaving but you were right, he had a job to do.

“Come on, I’ll help you lie down,” he then said after standing up, giving you space and helping you lie down on the bed. He knelt next to you, placing a hand on your hair and caressing you so gently it made your heart explode.

“If you need me…” he whispered.

“…I’ll call you. I know darling,” you continued and then smiled. “I love you so much.”

He gave you a breath-taking smile before leaning towards you and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you much more chérie, you’re… You both are the best gift that life has ever given me I hope you’ll never forget it.”

“Never. Now go kick everyone's ass predestinato.”

Against all his expectations, the race ended in the best possible way, not without some hitches which, however, Charles managed to overcome in the best possible way.

In the garage everyone welcomed him with whistles, shouts of joy and cheers, still teasing him about his radio messages.

“How is Y/n? Has anyone gone to check on her?” He had asked Charles in the middle of the race.

“Focus on the race Leclerc.”

“I can’t if I don’t know if she’s okay.” He retorted in frustration as at that exact moment he took a turn. “Someone fucking answer me! This is my fiancée and my son we’re talking about mon dieu!” He continued when he didn’t get a response right away – and by right away he meant after two seconds – his accent particularly pronounced when he was angry.

“She’s fine Charles, she’s resting. Now focus.”

“I swear if you’re telling me this just to keep me quiet I’ll burn this place down.”

“Check yourself.” There was a moment’s pause in which Charles was left perplexed. “Baby!” He heard your voice in his earphones, his heart almost explodIng with joy. God only knew how much he needed to hear you in that moment. “You’re doing great, I’m so proud of you!”

“Cherie! Are you okay? Did you get some rest?”.

He heard you giggle. “Yes. I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep since I wanted to watch you. But now focus we’ll talk later! I love you.”

“I love you too bébé.”

The race had ended and he won. Charles Leclerc won the Grand Prix but he didn’t care because the best prize he could ever receive was in front of him celebrating with him and cheering him on while tightly hugging him.

Charles Leclerc tag list: @softicecr3eam, @halsteadbrasil

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[httpdwaekki]

fixation | l.f.

summary: you and felix get high before tensions start to rise and who are you to deny your favorite sunshine.

wc: 2.2k

warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY (minors and ageless blogs WILL be blocked), both felix n the reader are high, smut, nipple play, clit licking/sucking, switch (both), fingering, ddlg (if you really squint), felix calls the reader mama (it felt right in the moment idk how i'm feeling about it), probably more read at your own risk.

a/n: inspired by @felixknow ‘s hannie’s🍒 fixation fic. idk how i’m feeling about this one chat, but i’m kinda obsessed with it at the same time. i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.

hannie’s vers. | my library

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(images are not mine! credit to owners!)

felix was known for his love of physical touch.

you literally could not find him not touching someone in some sort of way. so much so that you give him the unoriginal title of ‘cuddle bug.’ now this was also true tenfold when he was high.

anytime you got high with him, he’d always somehow find himself on top of you, and 9 times out of 10, with his head on your boobs.

you both were sat  on your bed, a couple of hits deep, when he feels the need to touch you. you were propped up on some pillows on your side, face smushed into a random plushie as you were invested in whatever youtube video was on your phone.

he makes his way over to you from the other side of the bed. he inserts himself in the little space between you and your phone cause you to lean back.

he pushes you fully in your back, before flooping down onto you, his head on your tits. you thought nothing of it, you going back to your video, felix mindless scrolling on twitter. 

a few minutes go by before felix lets out a laugh. he turns his phone to you, showing you something he found scrolling. “this is me.” what was it? literally just a picture of tits, a meme of spongebob smiling big and the caption ‘me when boob’.

“no shot you’re looking at other boobs while laying on mine” you tease. he sits up to defend himself but you won’t here it “foul! foul i’ll tell you! are mine not good enough for you?” 

you were enjoying this too much, felix’s freckled face was red the more flustered he got. “no no! i love your boobs! they’re the best!” you kept egging him, finding it cute as he tried to defend himself.

“suuure they are, i’m sure you tell all the girls that.” unbeknownst to you, you struck a cord. you had forgotten how sensitive the precious sunshine became when he was inebriated.

“no, that’s not true.” he mumbled, causing you to sit up. “hey hey, lix, i’m joking bug, i’m sorry.” you rub his thigh, hoping to soothe him.

he looks over at you with a pout. “don’t do that.” he playfully hits you, pulling a giggle from you. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you squeal, as he toss both your phones away before he throws more playful hits your way.

you throw yourself back, attempting to protect yourself from his attacks. eventually he halts his attacks, finding himself straddling your hips, leaning over you, both of you breathing slightly heavier. you both feel something shift, the tension becoming thicker . 

“you know, i think i deserve something special for you being mean.” your mind hazy not just from the weed but now felix’s presence over you.

“what do you have in mind?” you ask softly. not breaking eye contact, he brings one hand up to cover your clothed tit, giving it a light squeeze. “i think you should let me show you how much love them.” his deep voice sending shockwaves through your system. 

you give him a soft nod, keeping your eyes on his. you had taken your bra off almost as soon as both of you had entered your apartment, you hated the way the underwire felt, especially when he laid on them. 

so you could feel every agonizing movement he made, brushing your senstive bud each time. you watch as he brings himself down, making himself eye level with the now hardened bud.

he brushes his thumb over it, revealing it through the fabric. he takes the bud in his mouth over your shirt, keeping eye contact with you, catching every glimpse of your face he can get.

he alternates between sucking it and flicking his tongue around it. he brings his hand to your other tit, making that peak hard on contact.

the combined stimulation, caused you to let out a soft moan. he pulls away from you, causing a whine to leave you.

“does that feel good mama?” you nod your head, brain too fuzzy to form words. you were sure it was the weed but something about your mind already hazy made this feel that much better.

he places a kiss to the wet peak before reaching down, and pulling at the hem of your shirt, “lean up for me.” he taps the side of your boobs with his free hand. you knew deep down he only did that to see you tit jiggle a bit.

he pulls the shirt off as you lean forward, tossing it somewhere in the room. he kisses the nipple he has had been sucking for the past minute or so before moving to the other one.

he places a kiss to it once again before taking it in his mouth fully. you let out a breathy moan, finally feel his mouth on you. he lets out a moan, sucking the hardened bud happily. you felt like you were on cloud 9, you wrapped your arms around him, one around his shoulder the other in his hair.

he grazed your nipple with his teeth causing you to let out a squeak. “lix please.” you begged, your thighs pressing together. “what’s wrong, hm? you feeling needy.” you pout at his words nodding your head again.

“don’t worry mama, i got you.” he smiles, before taking your nipple between his teeth once more.

you let out a whimper, his voice and actions taking over your senses completely. your hands fisting his soft locks as he continues his work. “lix please.” 

he ignores your pleas, simply too invested in softly sucking your chest. he becomes dazed, cheek pressing against your soft flesh as he relaxes into you. “god, you’re fucking perfect.” he says releasing your nipple for a moment.

he gives it a soft blow before giving it one last lick and kiss before moving to the other side once more.

he melts into you once again, his cheek pressed to you as he lazily sucks. he had his hand playing with your other boob, pulling yet another whine from you.

“baby boy,” you moan, head falling back at the stimulation. “as pretty as you look with my nipple in your mouth i need something more.” he pulls back, pout evident on his freckled face.

“but they feel so nice to play with.” his hands still pawing at them, rolling your nipples between his fingers. you grab his hands, intertwining your fingers. “i know baby but i think i’m gonna go insane if you don’t do something else in the next 10 seconds.” 

his cheeks flush before you pull him down to you. you capture his lips in a feverish kiss, taking one of your hands to card through his soft strands. he moans into your mouth as you gently tug at them, scratching his scalp softly.

his free hand makes its way to the side of your breast, playing with it once more. “have i just unlocked an obsession for my boobs in you.” you ask, pulling away from him, breathing heavy.

he gives you a confused look, “what do you mean just unlocked? i have my face in your tits half the time for a reason.” he says like it’s obvious.

you let out a giggle as he leans down, placing kisses on your jaw before making his way down. he stops at your boobs once again. “felix i swear to god i won’t let you play on them again.” you threaten, cause him to shoot up.

“that seems a bit drastic no?” you roll your eyes, “i don’t care, please.” you whine, feeling yourself going insane at the lack of stimulation. “okay, okay, i’m sorry.” he places one last kiss to each nipple before making his way down.

he trails a bunch of kisses across your soft tummy, one to each hip bone before pulling down your shorts. “fuck angel,” he breathes as he spreads your legs, staring at the wet patch on your light blue panties.

he places a kiss to it before rubbing small circles with his thumb. “ah.” you moan, at the slight stimulation. “lixie, please.” your mind is so far gone and he’s barely touched you. between him and the weed, it was fucking intoxicating.

“i know baby, i know,” he reassures, his voice dropping an octave or two. he’s rubbing smalls circles to your clothed clit, mesmerized by the growing wet patch darken the fabric.

“all this because of me?” he asks, looking back to you. you nod, pout present on your lips, “all you lixie.” you mumbled. he places once last kiss to the wet patch before removing those as well.

“look at this pretty pussy hm?” he spreads your lips apart, eyes sparkling as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

he licks a long stripe from your wet entrance up to your bundle of nerves. he latches onto it, giving it a harsh suck. “ah! fuck.” you moan, back arching as you reach for the closest thing for you to hold, which happened to be a stuffie.

you stuff your face in its tummy and felix expertly plays with your swollen clit. you turn your head to the side moaning into the soft toy and he slips a finger in.

he pulls away, but his finger keeps thrusting into you. “no, no, my sweet girl, let me hear you baby.” his free hand rubbing your inner thigh, as he places kisses all around your clit.

“ lixie,” you cry, turning to look at him while tucking the plushie into your chest. “i know mama, am i making you feel good?” he asks between kisses.

“yes, yes, it feels so good, more please.” you beg, you needed more, you needed your senses completely overwhelmed by him.

he adds a second finger before completely taking your clit in his mouth once more. “ah,” you cry, back arching at the added stimulation. “lixie please, don’t stop.” 

the weed in your system was making everything feel euphoric. he takes the hand that was rubbing soothing circles to your thigh to spread you out, giving him easier access to your pretty clit.

you moan, your hand coming up to squeeze your tit, finger brushing your peaked bud.

“look at you,” he pauses for a moment to flick your clit once more. “so gorgeous for me,” he gives the bundle a suck before grazing his teeth against the nerves, pulling a high pitched moan from you.

“sounding so pretty for me hm?” he speeds up his fingers, curling them into that gummy spot, sending you into a state of pure bliss. “ah!” you scream, breathing heavy, head thrown back.

“fe-felix, p-please, i’m gonna c-cum.” you manage to stutter, your senses fully overtaken by him. “yeah? my pretty girl gonna cum?” he slips a third finger in, causing your eyes to roll back into you head.

“yes, yes, please, li-lixie, i can’t-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, it was feeling almost too good but you needed your release more than air in that moment.

he ignores your comment. “my baby playing with her pretty tits for me,” he blows on your clit, causing you to squeeze and brush your sensitive nipple. “play with your nipple for me baby.” you follow what he says, letting out a pornographic moan.

“felix p-please.” you cry, tears collecting in your eyes as the coil in your tummy becomes tighter and tighter. “come on angel, show me how good i’m making you feel.”

his fingers become impossibly faster, his mouth attached to your clit, sucking it into his mouth while his tongue flicks it.

you scream at the stimulation, your hips rocking against his face, chasing your release. plushie in a death grip to your chest and you roll your nipple between your fingers.

“felix!” you moan as the coil snaps, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. he works you through your high, slowing his fingers but not stopping them.

your clit still in his mouth as he overstimulates you. your body convulses as the shockwaves run through you. “l-lix please, it’s too m-much.” you whimper, body shaking hiding your face once again. 

his stills his fingers, pulling his mouth off you to give your clit a few loving kisses. “so pretty for me angel.” he whispers between kisses. 

“l-lixie.” you call out to him, needing to feel him pressed against you. he looks up at you, making grabby hands to him making him smile.

he carefully pulls his digits out, pulling a whimper from you in the process. he gives your clit a few more kisses, causing your legs to shake involuntarily.

he makes his way up, kissing your tummy and of course, each nipple and even giving one a cheeky suck. 

once he makes his way up you, laying on top of you, plushie squished between you, wrapping your legs and arms around him, pulling him close. he giggles at your cuteness before giving you a loving kiss.

“i love you mama.” he mumbles into the kiss. you smile against him, “i love you more lix.” you pull him tighter to you, both of you falling in a quick, peaceful slumber.

(and yes he does wake you up later, mouth attached to your nipple once again.)

do not repost

p.s. my taglist is open if you would like to be added! just send me an ask <3

[pippin-katz]

Jayden, George & Cameos

Alright, maybe this is me being presumptuous, but I feel like I need to say something. I’m going to offer my two cents about the cameo situation.

I did not buy a cameo when George did it, but upon asking someone who did, they costed £40. The price of the joint cameo is evidently £80.

Is that too high of a price?

If you thought £40 for George’s cameo was fine, then you have to say “no”.

George by himself was £40. If Jayden made his own by himself, it would probably also be £40. Therefore, if you add them together, you get £80.

People need to understand that while they might have fun with the cameos, they are still working. Recording videos like that is exhausting, and if you don’t think so, you’ve clearly never done it. I have recorded reaction videos and after thoughts and stories for years, and I still get exhausted if I have to do a multiple part story, or do it over and over until I’m satisfied.

Now, I know a lot of people are peeved more about the phrasing of these joint cameos as a “gift for the fans” when the price might be out of budget for a lot of people.

But if you are throwing a tantrum over it, you need to sit the fuck down, and check your damn privilege.

It is a gift.

They don’t have to do this. They literally don’t. They don’t have to interact with us. They don’t have to post anything. They owe you nothing.

Instead, they have taken the time out of their days, their schedules, whatever they might be busy with, or even if they’re relaxing, and they’ve decided to record video messages for you.

Not to mention, do you even understand what they are putting themselves in risk of emotionally or mentally?

The very first thing that came to a LOT of people’s minds when this was announced was: “I hope no one asks them to kiss because we’ll never get Payneland.”

If you didn’t think that, congratulations! You have apparently been fortunate enough not to encounter what real Internet behavior is like. Or maybe you’re new to a fandom space, and this is your first time! Great!

You might be thinking: “No one would actually do that; at least not in this fandom!”

But the truth of the matter is that there are many people who would and probably WILL do that.

The anonymous nature of the Internet has enable millions, and I mean millions, of people to act on and voice their most disgusting and disturbing thoughts. The content or person does not always reflect on the people who digest or interact with it. There are monsters everywhere; they are in every space whether you encounter them or not.

By being online all of us open ourselves up to the risk of people attacking us or exposing us to things we do not enjoy or want. For people of any level of fame, it’s multiplied tenfold.

George and Jayden can turn off direct messages, block people, mute tags, and whatnot, so they can avoid most attempts to reach them. By offering these cameos, they are giving a direct route for people to type whatever the hell they want into their message, and whether they like it or not, they’ll probably be reading it.

This is an open invitation for those awful people to request anything, to say anything, to ask anything, even if they report it and don’t respond, they’ll likely see it.

Invasive questions about their sexualities, their relationships, their personal lives. Disgusting thirst messages. Disturbing requests asking for specific things to act as a replacement or substitute for what we would’ve liked to see in the show.

Anything and everything you can think of is possibly something they will encounter, and they’re willing to take that risk to give you something special. To talk directly to you, even if it’s only for a minute.

It’s become increasingly clear, to me at least, that Jayden is a sensitive soul. Not in a “can’t take a joke” way, or in any condescending way. He’s just kind. He’s kind in a way that is taken advantage of in online spaces. He’s also young. A lot of this is still new to him.

He apologizes like it’s his fault if his stream chat gets some bad people in it. He was talking about how he wanted to continue playing Detroit: Become Human really badly, but felt like we would be upset if he didn’t stream his entire play-through. He asked for a list of names of people who support him on Twitch, their usernames and actual names, because he wanted to keep track of them.

Jayden was really excited about the joint cameos. He looked so thrilled to talk about it, and was looking forward to hanging out with George, and doing this for fans.

When fans turned around and yelled about prices, it probably crushed him! Instead of reciprocated excitement, he got bitterness and hate. And for something that he might not even have control over, mind you.

It feels like he can never do enough to make fans happy.

It’s not his fault the show was canceled, but he probably feels just as bad about it as we all do! It’s disappointing! It’s upsetting! And he wanted to do it! But he can’t, and that has to feel frustrating as someone passionate about what they do.

It’s not his fault some fans are toxic or judgmental of every interaction he has with his community. It’s not his fault that people spread hate.

But it probably feels like he can at least put a stop to it by not continuing to do any of it. If he just stops streaming, no toxic chats. If he stops talking to fans, no people complaining about favoritism.

I don’t blame him for wanting to walk away entirely.

To wrap this up, if you have anything disrespectful to say about the boys or this situation, do us all a favor and keep your damn mouth shut.

I expected better from this fandom than behaving like entitled children. We’ve gained thousands of signatures, rallied together to buy a billboard for this show, but we can’t maintain a supportive space for the actors? How do you expect us to succeed in saving this show if we can’t even do that?

To make a long story short (too late), fans, do fucking better.

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

If you liked this, you may also enjoy on our syllabus Bob From Pi Kapp.

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

Want more Frat Cowboy Bob? Hang out with Bob From Pi Kapp!

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[l0sercat]

NSFW alphabet with King Baldwin IV

Please note that this is not the historical figure but the movie version. Also MDNI for my sake and yours.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's a god at aftercare. Literally will get you whatever you need or want. He puts his needs last. When you take care of him he is shy, but very thankful.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn't like his body that much due to his leprosy. He has to admit he was good looking before and during which he loved his hands, but now they're covered in sores. So maybe his eyes. He loves everything about you but more specially your hair. He loves his soft it is and he likes playing with it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves cumming inside you. He wants to get you pregnant so bad, he wants and heir to the throne when he eventually succumbs to his illness. Even if you can't get pregnant he still loves to cum inside you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He gets hard every time he sees you naked. Even if it's not in a sexual context. Taking a bath. Boner. Get dressed boner. Hell if you give him a kiss and shower him in praise he gets hard. He can't help it just loves you so much.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He is a total virgin. No experience. I mean he's a strict Christian so obviously no sex before marriage. He is super happy that your taking his first and he gets to experience these pleasures with you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He really likes doggy. You can't see his scarred body which is a plus. He also likes how he can hit every angle in this position. He wants to make sure you feel good.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Serious 100% He views this act as sacred and something that your taken care of. Making a joke would just ruin the atmosphere.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Does leprosy affect pubic hair? I personally believe that he would try to keep it tame down there. It's not perfect but he put in the effort and that's all that matters.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He is sweet and a little clumsy but it's his first time so. Your pleasure is always number one. You'll have at least three orgasms before he has one.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He does not masturbate. He views it as an unholy act. The only way he will cum is by your "hands". Even thinking about masturbating grosses him out.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise. Oh my gosh does he love when you praise him. He feeds off of your praise. He performs better if you praise him. Especially when he cums and you praise him he will go wild.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The bedroom. He'll only do it there because it's the safest. Why would he fuck you anywhere else?

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He really wants to get you pregnant, but at the same time he doesn't because he doesn't want his kid to have leprosy. So it's more so that he just really wants to be close to you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation. To him or you. If you say something degrading he will not stand for it and make you apologize immediately. And he could never degrade you because he thinks your near perfect. It would literally kill him to degrade you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He wants to give but is afraid he'll be bad at it and it probably might hurt his scarred skin. He doesn't mind receiving but is awkward the whole time. He doesn't know what to do with his hands.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He is slow until he is on the edge and picks up the pace a bit. His leprosy effects him a bit in this department. He can't go to fast or all his stamina will deplete.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No, he prefers to take you properly. Also quickies just wouldn't be good because y'know he's king and all. He has not time to quickly fuck you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

No he is comfortable with what y'all have now and that's all he wants.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He has bad stamina because of leprosy, so he can't last long. But he makes sure you'll have many orgasms and feel overwhelmed with pleasure. He always prioritize your pleasure over his.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Toys weren't even invented back then lmfao

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't tease, much. He'll never deny your orgasm but he'll gently poke fun at the way your face is all red and teary eyed.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He isn't very loud but he doesn't hold back his voice. You'll hear everything that comes out of his mouth.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He likes when your on top and gently take you fingers through his hair and whisper praises. And maybe call his your king or majesty.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He's about 5-6 1/2-inches long and kinda thick. It has a little scaring due to his leprosy but it looks normal. It is not cut but he does clean it well.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It's not high but not low. He wants to do it more frequently than he does but his body can't handle it. He feels repulsed by himself but seeing you moaning his name makes him feel better.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After your both cleaned up and taken care of he falls asleep pretty quickly. Your in his arms sleeping and then he falls asleep.

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR men x reader, meeting your parents

𐙚 summary: the acotar men meet ur parents for the first time, how will it go?

𐙚 warnings: crack, fluff

𐙚 amara’s note: thank u sm for the req anon!!💗 i need cassian so bad i’m not joking 🙁 | based on this req

Rhysand

okay so in my mind there are two ways this could go

either ur parents are scared shitless bc of him or they absolutely adore him

They’re real scared if your parents live in the Hewn City and have only seen Rhysand’s bad side, you know, when he was with Amarantha and just seemed like a real jerk overall

The part where they adore him would come into play if your parents lived in Velaris and witnessed Rhysand's true self, not the facade he presents to his court, but the genuine person behind the mask

I think he would act very nonchalant and act like its a casual thing meeting your parents but he is shitting himself behind the facades

He's just really eager for your parents to like him, so he ends up accidentally over-complimenting your mom, which might make your dad a bit irked.

“Mrs. L/N, your beauty is as radiant as the stars. And your cooking is absolutely divine,” he has a hand on his heart, his famous smirk playing on his lips

“Aw, thank you so very much Rhysand, how very kind of you. I’m glad you like it!” your mom beams at him sweetly

“Alright, Rhysand, let's not get carried away,” your dad mutters, staring daggers at rhys as he gets drags your moms chair closer to him

After a while they grow to love him and your father’s distaste for him lessens

Azriel

it’s kind like rhysand’s situation, your parents score is based on how much they know about him

okay, so if ur parents know he’s the scary night court torturer and spymaster who does dangerous things for his work, he might not be very well liked. not only that but they would be genuinely worried and very scared

but if they only know he works for the high lord, i believe the chance of liking him is big

I think azriel’s calm aura when he’s with you makes him very likeable and trustworthy

Your parents see how much he cares for you, the little things he does for you and they approve

they see the small things he does, like this vid right here

Azriel is actually so fucking nervous, he stalks your parents before meeting them. He knows what your dad likes and he knows what your mom likes. Azriel brings their interests up casually in conversations and see how their faces light up

of course you know about all of this but you let him think he’s slick

Eris

Just like rhys and az, it depends on how much they know ab him.

If this is pre berons death eris, they will probably not like him bc of the way he presents himself

I still think Eris is charming and will win over your parents

He’s an expert on charming people and he uses it when he meets ur parents

he is very respectful, tho not very talkative. He speaks when spoken to basically

He gets very nervous when he is asked questions about your relationship bc if there’s one thing he loves it’s privacy

Eris is super vague, i’m talking one word answer for everything

“So how did you meet?”

“at a meeting.”

“Okay! so whats the story?”

“we fell in love.”

Absolutely melts when ur parents decide to like him bc he has never had any parental figure like him that much except for his mom and he is very happy on the inside when ur parents love him

literally thinks of ur parents as his after a while

Lucien

He is extremely well liked, like right off the bat, they love him

We all now he is prythian’s most charming male

is the type to say “wow i see where my girl gets her beauty from” to your mom and “you raised her well, she is very smart” to your dad

I swear he will flirt with anyone. your brother, your sister, your mom, your dad

he brings gift baskets whenever u visit them and it’s always personalized gifts too

your younger siblings always greet him before you bc they think he’s wayyyyy cooler than u

he just basks in the attention bc slowly ur family basically adopts him and he becomes part of the family very quickly they all love him

Goes on walks with your parents, bakes with them, talks to them, literally becomes their fav in a heartbeat making u a lil jelly

This is SO him and ur mom LINK

Cassian

awww😭 bless his heart he is so awkward

he is so adamant about being liked, he goes all out

i’m talking gets a suit, shaves and gels his hair back even though you say it’s really not that deep

sweating bullets, wings drooping a tiiiiiny amount. not noticeable to anyone but himself

anyway

cassian knocks on the door w flowers for ur mom and his hands are literally sweating

absolutely doesn’t let you touch him in a romantic way. he literally swats of your hand on his bicep, “bae, we can’t do that right here, are you crazy??” he says in ur mind, looking around to see of anyone saw that super scandalous touch

at the dinner table he almost knocks over a glass and drops a fork on the floor

his tie is too tight and he carefully tugs on it for air until you decide it’s too much and take him to your childhood bedroom

“Cas, are you okay? They love you so much, there is really no need to be this nervous.”

“Are you sure they like me? Be honest.”

“Baby, I promise you, if they didn’t, you would know. Now get rid of this tie, pop a button and relax, let me get you a drink.”

After you kiss him and get him a drink, he calms down and goes back to his normal non nervous, lovely self

🏷️: @amara-moonlight @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @artists-ally @thelov3lybookworm @clairebear08 @riddlesb1tch @cupidojenphrodite @readychilledwine @berryzxx @fell-in-luvs

[multifandomfanficss]

Never Listen To Venkman

Egon Spengler x Reader

(With platonic!Peter Venkman)

Prompt: When you and Peter are left alone to experiment with a suspicious, blue, viscous slime, things go south and Egon comes home to you having a paranormal induced panic attack.

Warnings: panic attacks, autistic meltdowns, sensory issues, detailed descriptions of sensory issues, feeling uncomfortable in one’s own skin.

A/N: Back in my Ghostbusters era. It is contractually obligated that I must re-obsess every time a new movie comes out. I’ve loved Egon since I was a little kid. I can’t believe I’ve never written for him. The italics are flashbacks. This is crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

The reader is intended to be autistic, but can be read any way you’d like. Anyone is allowed to relate and see themselves in the reader wether they’re autistic or not!

You were sitting at your desk with in your small shared lab with Egon in the firehouse when you heard footsteps. You thought you had been home alone until Peter walked in.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going on a double date with Winston while Ray and Egon were at the movie.” You questioned him, putting down your pen. You had been taking notes on a new kind of slime the boys had found. It was different from the other slime they’d found last month when Vigo was trying to take over. While Vigo’s slime was pink in color, this slime was blue and had a more viscous consistency.

“Oscar had a fever, so Dana and I decided to cancel. She thinks he’s getting his first tooth.” Peter smiles. Despite the jokes he’s made and the amount of times he’s said he was nowhere near ready to be a father, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy being back with Dana again and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love Oscar just as much as he loved her.

“Did Winston still go?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. He’s probably back in her apartment with the bed rocking as we speak. No way he’s coming home tonight.” Peter laughed at his own joke as you cringe.

“You’re disgusting.” You roll your eyes.

“What are you up to tonight? Got a hot date with a slime? Not too different from your usual dating life.” He chuckles.

“You’re such a dick, Venkman. I figured while everybody was out tonight I’d try to find out SOMETHING about this new slime. Egon and I have been studying it for two days and we have literally nothing.” You gesture to the blue goo on your desk.

“Do you need help?” He asks.

“Are you offering to help me on your night off?” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Peter shrugs.

“Are you gonna take it seriously?” You hesitate.

“I’m always serious!” Peter bluffs. Peter was never serious. Egon was always serious. His bluntness and black and white thinking had always been a comfort to you. He wasn’t some puzzle you had to figure out. He just was. Being with him wasn’t a guessing game the same way it was with Peter.

“Somehow that’s hard to believe, but I could really use your expertise in parapsychology, so I’ll say yes.” You sigh. You know this probably isn’t the best idea, but Peter knows more about this topic than you do. You’d be stupid to reject his help.

“If you’ll be the subject, I’ll run the experiment.” He says, taking out the helmet with wires.

“Okay.” You agree. Once the helmet is on you should be connected to a series of machines able to read the energy of your emotions, as well as the slime itself, giving you a more direct connection without touching. Peter starts asking you a series of questions, trying to draw different emotional responses.

“Think of a time when you were happy, really happy.” He prompts. Your mind, wandered around the room, trying to think of something, when your eyes landed on Egon’s book sitting on his desk.

It made you think of the first time you realized you had deep feelings for him. While you’d always thought he was attractive, you realized your feelings were deeper than you thought, far beyond a harmless little crush, one day when he let you borrow his book. As you read his notes in the margins you were able to analyze things like him, see the world through his eyes. You saw how his brain connected and processed things. You always liked the person he’d shown you, but writing in the margins is different. When you take notes in a book, you’re not putting on a mask for people to see. Notes in the margins are just for you. There’re your unfiltered thoughts. Seeing who Egon was when nobody was watching was different. He was funny, smart, deep, curious, not as confident as he pretended to be; he didn’t censor himself in his books. He wasn’t quiet in his books. Reading his margins felt intimate.

“You’re thinking about Spengler, aren’t you?” Venkman teases.

“Why would you say that?” You look at him, embarrassed.

“Because you’re in loooooove!” Peter mocks.

“Can we change the subject?” You practically beg.

“Think of a moment where you were uncomfortable.” Peter prompts.

“This conversation.” You fiddle with your fingers.

“No, really. I wanna see how it reacts to discomfort.”

“Fine.” You sigh. You think back to one of your many lab accidents. Working in a lab with sensory issues is never easy and that was something you and Egon both struggled with.

You think back to the day when you superglued your fingers shut by accident. You got them apart, but you couldn’t get the the residue off. You started to hyperventilate, on the verge of tears. You wanted to hit your hands on things, but you knew that wouldn’t help. You couldn’t peel off the glue without peeling off your skin.

“What’s wrong?” Egon looked at you puzzled, and a bit worried.

“Superglue! I- I- I can’t get it off!” You shake your hands, violently, your whole body is tensed up.

Egon quickly takes a bottle out from his desk drawer and runs over to you. He grabs your hands.

“Look at me, (Y/N). It’s okay. I’ll take off all the residue.” He promises, giving you a soft smile. Despite not liking seeing you in such discomfort, he forces the smile to help calm you down. He begins to massage the liquid from the bottle onto your fingers with a rag.

“See, it’s okay. It’s coming off.” He continues to speak softly, calming you.

“What is that stuff?” You ask.

“I wish I could say it’s some sort of fancy, scientific, protective disinfectant, but as it so happens it’s only nail polish remover.” You both chuckle quietly. “Janine gave it to me the last time I got superglue on something and couldn’t get it off.” He smiles down at your hands, still focused on getting the last little bit off.

“This slime is so different from the mood slime. I thought I saw it let go of a bubble, but it’s mostly doing nothing. I think it might be dead. I think it might be time to bury it in the backyard.” Peter begins to fake sob.

“Knock it off.” You laugh. “What backyard? This is Manhattan!”

“You should try touching it.” Peter suggests.

“Egon, said I should under no circumstances touch it directly, especially while he’s not here.” You inform him.

“Well Egon, is being overprotective. Nothing bad happened when everyone else touched the pink slime and I accidentally ate green slime once.” Venkman says.

“What do you mean accidentally?” You ask.

“It was our first mission. Slimer ran through me. It was a whole thing. I think you should touch it… You might be able to figure out what it is before Spengler gets back…” He tries to change your mind.

“You’re sure there were no serious side effects from touching the other slimes?” You ask, hesitantly. Egon would be annoyed if he found out you went against his pleas to keep your hands away from the plasma, but you wanted to impress him.

“Nothing serious. I grew an extra pinky, but they cut it off.” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny, Venkman.” You roll your eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking a deep breath before plunging your hand into the blue viscous goo. “Oh…This is literally fine.” You feel no effect, but when your heart rate picks up you realize you spoke too soon. You fall onto the floor, knocking over the slime. You feel like your heart is racing, like it could beat out of your chest and you can’t suck enough air into your lungs. You’re terrified.

“(Y/N)!” Peter yells, rushing to the floor to help you. He tries to touch the the hand not covered in blue slime, but you push him away, sobbing. You don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re slipping away from reality into a deep state of panic and paranoia.

“Please! No!” You sob. It’s the only thing you can manage to get out. You barley recognize Peter anymore. He doesn’t feel like a friend. He feels like a threat.

“Honestly, the movie was quite terrible. Ray stopped for a 99 cent pizza on the corner. What did you- (Y/N)?!” Egon speaks as he enters the room, cutting himself off when he notices you’re in distress.

“Pete, what happened?!” Egon questions once he sees Venkman.

“We were doing an experiment and they touched the goo and they just started freaking out. They won’t let me near them.” Peter tells him, obviously shaken. You hear the two men, but you don’t process them. It’s like you’re underwater.

“This is different from their usual sensory issues. I think they’re having a panic attack.” Egon kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in the firehouse. I’m here.” He tells you slowly.

“I- I can’t breathe!” You gasp for air.

“Your lungs are expanding and contracting at a rate too fast for your body to intake oxygen. I need you to try to breathe slow and deep with me. In…and out. Nice and slow.” He prompts. “Peter, I need latex gloves and towels.” Venkman could have made multiple jokes about Egon’s command, but looking at you this way made him uneasy. It wasn’t the right time. After being handed the gloves, Egon slipped them on and got to work cleaning off your slime covered arm. You begin to sob, overwhelmed by the feeling of the slime, the latex gloves, and the towel. It was difficult to handle on top of your panic attack. “Peter, we need to get them into the decontamination shower.”

“No!” You gasp between sobs.

“Come, on. I’ll go with you. We can get all the plasma off of you.” Egon speaks softly, but with a gentle urgency, as he tries to coax you to the shower. You shake your head no. “Are you against touch right now?” He asks.

“They did not like when I touched them.” Venkman warns.

“Only you-“ You break out in a sob. It doesn’t even cross your mind that you may be offending Peter by only wanting Egon. Luckily he’s not offended. Egon begins to take off his glove to provide skin to skin contact on the arm not drenched in slime in an effort to comfort you.

“Aren’t you worried about getting that stuff on you?” Venkman questions, worried Egon will shutdown like you.

“I’m getting in the decontamination shower anyway.” Egon shrugs, turning to you. He takes your hand in his, softly rubbing the top with his thumb.

“But- but your clothes will get all wet!” You sob. You knew Egon had his own sensory issues. You’d often have to help him when his long sleeves would get wet during experiments. It would drive him crazy. He avoided puddles like the plague and always had an umbrella nearby.

“Try not to worry about me right now. I just want you to focus on your breathing. I can always change my clothes.” He smiles. While it hurts him to see you so distressed, he was happy to know you cared about his comfort. “Let’s go shower. You can’t leave all that slime on you. I believe it’s worsening your mental state.” You nod, still crying.

“I’ll get them under the shower, I’ll need you to turn it on. Make sure not to touch the slime. I got a minuscule amount on my finger and it’s making me rather anxious. I can only imagine what this amount is doing to them.” Egon tells Peter. He helps you to stand, walking your trembling form over to the shower. “There we go. Just a few more steps. You’re doing wonderfully, (Y/N).” Egon softly attempts to comfort you.

Once you’re under the shower head, Venkman turns it on. Both you and Egon jolt at the sudden water pressure. He tightens both his jaw and his grip on you, holding his eyes shut tight. He can’t stand the feeling of his wet clothes against his body, but he’s brave for you. Once adjusted to the water, Egon begins to wash the slime off your body with care. Peter leaves to go upstairs and get you some towels. You feel the panic and paranoia start to leave your body. Despite still being incredibly anxious, you were starting to phase out of your slime induced panic attack. You lean against Egon, struggling to hold your own body weight. Maybe you’ll be more embarrassed tomorrow, but right now you just needed to be held. You were craving pressure on your body. You felt as if you would float off the ground if you weren’t held down. Egon wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer. He places a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on top of your head. You snuggled into his chest, finding his pulse. You didn’t have the time or the bandwidth in your brain to think about what the kiss meant. You just wanted to be close to him.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). You’re safe.” Egon tells you. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his. It’s for both, really.

You’re quiet for most of the night, unable to bring yourself to speak. Egon doesn’t mind. He thinks a verbal shutdown is more than understandable after the night you’ve had. After the shower, you follow Egon around the fire station. You don’t want to be alone right now. He doesn’t mind. He puts out some of his clothes for you to wear; pajama pants and one of his soft sweaters. He goes to leave the room for you to change, but you stop him.

“Can- can we just like? Turn around?” You ask. “I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable, that’s okay. I just really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You voice is hoarse from crying.

“Of course.” He smiles, turning around.

“I’m decent.” He informs you after a minute of rustling.

“Me too.” You tell him and you both turn around.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, near tears again. You feel awful for how tonight went. This was supposed to be the boys’ day off. Egon gives you a sad look.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. Venkman told me he put you up to it anyway.” Egon sighs.

“I probably shouldn’t have listened to him.” You let out a sad chuckle, one tear slipping past you, down your cheek. You wipe it quickly.

“Never listen to Venkman.” Egon gives a sad laugh.

“At least we figured out what the slime does… Egon, can I ask you a question?” You hesitate.

“Well, you just did, but yes.” He smiles, joking to lighten the mood. You smile at him.

“Why did you do all that? You took off your gloves, putting yourself at risk and then you put yourself through sensory hell just to get me cleaned up.” You question him.

“Isn’t it obvious? (Y/N), I care about you.” You look at him, thinking about the tone in his words. You can’t quite decipher it, but there’s something else there. Is it possible he could feel the same way about you that you feel about him? “You should get some sleep.” He interrupts your thoughts. “If you’d rather not be alone, you may sleep in my room tonight. I would find it beneficial to monitor you overnight to watch for long lasting effects, anyway.” He adds.

“Only if that’s okay with you.” You hesitate.

“Of course it’s okay with me. I just suggested it.” He smiles.

Once you’re settled into bed, Egon turns off the lights and climbs in next to you.

“Egon, I’m still anxious.” You blurt out into the dark.

“Do you need pressure?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say, hoping he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he scoops you into his arms. You cuddle into his chest, surrounded by him, surrounded by safety. You know this should be weird, but it doesn’t feel weird. As Egon kisses the top of your forehead again, bidding you goodnight, you wonder what this all means. You wonder what you are to each other. You feel you’ve crossed the line as friends, but you’re too tired and too awkward and too anxious to talk about labels. You and Egon never quite fit into boxes as people anyway. Your relationship didn’t need to either. Whatever this was between you was comforting. It was safe and it was going to help you sleep tonight.

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 05 | myg

part five: new year's eve

Summary: The timer is counting down and it's finally time to confront Yoongi.

<part four

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

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

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 12.2k

—a/note: hi friends!!! i know i said i was going to go crazy with the word count but i had to divide the chapter because this part was going to have 25k words otherwise?? anyway!!! i went through ten different mental breakdows while writing this, i doubted myself like fifty times, but i enjoyed writing it sososo much, i hope you enjoy reading it as well!! like always, you are invited to discuss this part in the asks, feedback is always welcomed 🤠.

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve. 

You had lost count of the amount of times Minnie rolled her eyes, groaned or threw her hands in the air in the last two hours, but you were sure it was the same amount of times that you closed your eyes and sighed, trying to remain calm. She was sitting at the desk of your room, finishing her make-up for the New Year’s party as she listened to you list every detail of the last time you saw Yoongi, two days ago. 

Minnie, not minding being hyperbolic, openly expressed that she thought that “Yoongi was a psychopath” for inviting to watch When Harry Met Sally, a movie whose main premise were two friends who are in love with each other but do not realize it. Then she proceeded to call him similar things, like he was crazy for grabbing your hand on the way home and borderline insane for not kissing you when he left you at the door of your home. You tried to agree with her, but you were too busy trying to keep your food down, fearing that you might vomit at the thought of confronting Yoongi tonight. 

Needless to say, you were nervous. You had promised Minnie that, for your own sake, you would finally tell Yoongi to stop playing games and tell you what he really wanted with you tonight. You invited him to the party, hoping he would turn you down, thinking he probably had better plans with other friends, but he said yes, and now you were obligated to stand up to him. 

“This is not my size.” You complained, observing yourself in the mirror as you pulled from the hem of your dress, attempting to cover your butt. 

Your friend looked away from the tiny mirror in her hands to scan your body. You turned around, showing her the tiny black dress she let you borrow. 

Minnie looked at you like you were joking. “It literally fits you like a glove.” She said, standing up from her seat to take a better look at you. 

The dress was fine, it hugged your waist, your hips and every good part of your body, but you were too aware of it, you weren’t used to wearing dresses like this. 

“What about my boobs?” You asked, covering up your chest with your hands.

“What about them? They look beautiful!” She exclaimed, and grabbed your hands to out them away.

You laughed “Aren’t they too out?” 

“They’re perfectly out.” She responded, taking a good look at them “Like, enough, not too much and not too little, you know? If I had your boobs, I would display them just like that.” 

You smiled like that was the biggest compliment a girl could ever hear. “Thank you Minnie.” You said, a little more relieved “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

“You would be completely lost, I’m telling you.” She said, grabbing her jacket from her bed and her bag “Are we ready to go now?”

You reached for your phone, hoping to find a message from Yoongi saying that he was already here but it was not necessary, a second later you heard the motor of his car being parked in front of your house. 

“That’s him.” You informed your friend, making her jump in her place like a little kid. 

“Fine, let’s waste no time.” 

You grabbed your jacket, already knowing it would be of no use in the freezing cold of the night, and left your house to meet Yoongi. 

When you closed the door, you heard Minnie let out a little gasp, which made you look up at her.

"What?" you asked her, feeling her elbow dig into your ribs as she pointed at the sidewalk with her chin.

You turned around, meeting the sight of Yoongi, casually leaned over his car as he waited for you in the dark night. He was wearing his long black coat with his signature shirt, this time in black, his hair was slightly messy, the way you’ve always liked, and when he caught the first glimpse of your face he smiled, waving at you. 

“Oh, my…” Minnie sighed, bringing her hand up to her face, fanning herself.  “Is that the man who’s taking you home tonight?” 

"Shut up," You muttered through gritted teeth, waving back at Yoongi. 

“Is your mom coming home tonight, sweetheart?” She kept going “If I were you, I would tell her to stay somewhere else. You know, in case you and your boy…”

“Minnie, he’s gonna hear you.” You warned her, but she just laughed. 

Still, in the back of your mind, you considered Minnie’s concern; no, your mom wasn’t coming home tonight, but you didn’t need to be thinking about that at all. 

“Looking nice, ladies.” said Yoongi as you were making your way to his car.

“Likewise, gentleman.” Minnie answered “Do we have a resolution for the new year?”

Yoongi smirked, “Yes, we do.”

Your friend clicked her tongue, winking at you both and got into the back seat of Yoongi’s car, leaving the two of you alone. 

There was a moment of silence, like he was waiting to hear the sound of the car door closing, and then, he whistled. “You’re all dolled up.” He noted, sneaking his hand under your jacket and grabbing you by your waist over your dress, pulling you closer to him. 

“Is that bad?” You frowned, pretended to be annoyed. 

“Maybe.” He considered “What if someone tries to steal my date?” 

You snorted, softly punching his chest. “Oh, shut up.” You sassed “I can’t get rid of you, I’ve tried already.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip, failing to hide a smile. “You look very pretty, that’s all I’m saying.” 

By now, you’d think you could handle these kinds of comments—his lingering touches, or the way his eyes seemed to silently ask for a kiss—but you couldn’t. Your heart still jumped, your palms still grew sweaty, and your face still burned. Yet, you forced a smile as if you’d heard it a thousand times from countless men, as if he was nothing special.

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You patted him on the back, pulling away from him to go around the car to the passenger seat. 

Yoongi’s gaze trailed over you as he turned to face you across the roof of the car, his eyes following every movement.

“By the way,” He wondered, stopping you before you could open the door “What do you mean that you’ve tried?”

You stopped for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, but you were immediately reminded of your previous comment. How clueless he was, he had no idea the amount of times you tried to exile him from your life with no success, the thought of him always crawled back to you as if he belonged there. Tonight you should be in your bed, or going to some other party to drink your weight in alcohol to try to fulfill the purpose of banishing him from your mind, but, like a thousand times before, you were with him. 

You ignored his question, bursting into laughter as you got inside the car. 

Yoongi stood there for a moment, hearing the echoes of your laugh across the street, tempted to chase the sound. What a shame, if you hadn't gotten into the car so quickly, you might have seen the stars reflecting in his eyes, the look that only a fool would mistake for anything other than love.

Present

The thing about small towns like yours was that they hardly ever changed—like the park in front of Minnie’s apartment, with its wooden benches and the path of trees leading to the fountain in the center, which had stopped working years ago. The never changing look of your hometown was one of the main things that made you want to leave it behind, it was ridiculous to admit how relieved you were now that everything was still the same as the last time you were here. 

You set your bags down on the floor of your friend’s home and gazed out the window, watching the wind drag yellow and orange leaves, swirling them across the street until they crashed against the tall wooden doors of a building you recognized as The Alley. You remembered how, when you were younger, Minnie used to live fifteen minutes from there, but once she became an adult, she jumped at the chance to move directly across the street, staying as close as she could. You figured that people in small towns hardly ever changed either.

There was not much difference between the Minnie you knew when you were a teenager and the Minnie you knew in the present, she was still always at The Alley, except she was the one who called the shots nowadays. Over the years she gained the trust of the owners and now she was in charge of keeping everything in order, helping organize every activity and every area every day of the week, so you frowned when you saw that it was closed, especially in October, which was the most exciting month in The Alley; the Halloween plays, the Halloween movies and the Halloween parties were your favorite part of the year. 

“Is The Alley closed?” You asked, turning around to see Minnie as she stuck her head in her fridge trying to look for something to eat. Your friend let you stay at her apartment for as long as you needed; it was the least she could do, considering she always crashed at your place in the city and acted like it was her own whenever she had to work there. 

“Uh… yeah. It’s a whole thing.” She sighed. “It has all of us stressed out.”

“Why, what happened?” You walked over to her, sitting on one of the stools of her kitchen. 

“The building’s having some issues with its infrastructure for some time now and it’s costing a lot of money.” She explained, grabbing a cup of yogurt and a spoon to place it in front of you as if that were dinner. “We thought it was just a few things, like the electricity and the plumbing, but the more we look into it, the more problems we find.”

Your frown deepened, more confused than before. The Alley had been an old building for years and years, there was always a thing or two that had to be repaired, but you never thought it was that bad. “That’s why it’s closed?” You continued to ask. 

“That’s not the only reason. We had three inspections since the beginning of the year and none of them looked any good, we’re suspecting the town council might want to close it.” She rolled her eyes, but you could feel the hurt in her words. 

“Close it?” You repeated it, feeling something stung in your chest “Just like that? Is it that bad?” 

“Well, yes.” She affirmed, trying to appear composed but the discouragement filled her voice “Unless we fix the whole place, of course, but the repairs cost too much, so it’s going to take some time.”

“That sounds ridiculous, Minnie. What does Sid think?” You inquired. Sid was one of the owners of The Alley and the only one who was active in the community, he trusted Minnie with the management of the place more than anyone else. 

“That prick.” She bitterly spat “Don’t even mention him, he’s acting like a jerk lately, he’s too old and too tired of running the place, he’s leaving everything to me. I’m trying to handle it with some other people but it’s too much. That’s why we’re closed, we’re opening just three days a week but that’s slowing down the process of collecting money.” 

“Oh, Minnie. That’s horrible.” You lamented “Why am I just finding out about this now? Why didn't you tell me anything?” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” She tried to wave off “You were busy and too sad to hear any of my problems, I didn’t want to bother with stupid stuff.”

“What are you talking about?” You said, shaking your head “It’s not stupid, are you nuts? I could never be too busy or sad to hear you. How come you’ve been carrying all of this without telling me?”

The feeling of guilt flooded your chest, filling with regret your whole body. You knew you were being a bad sister and a bad daughter, but you didn’t realize you were being a bad friend as well. If closing The Alley sounded horrible to you, you couldn’t imagine how bad must’ve felt for Minnie, who had dedicated most of her life to the place.”

“I mean it, baby, you don’t have to feel bad.” She assured you, squeezing your hand “My head’s been a mess lately, I was going to tell you eventually.”

“But it’s not okay, Minnie.” You insisted. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling, I mean, The Alley is your whole life, there has to be another way.”

“Yes, that’s what I keep telling myself, there has to be another way! And I’m trying to think of one, but when I think I’m close to finding a solution, my head starts to smoke.” She huffed. 

You felt your heart clenching, Minnie was always trying to see the good side of things, you’ve never seen her so let down about something, especially something she cared about deeply. You both went silent, processing all the information for a minute. You wished you could do something, not only for your friend, but for the place where you had grown up, you couldn’t phantom the idea of The Alley disappearing, it was home of so many outcasts, it was your home for most of your teenage years, you felt like part of you was still on those walls. 

“Have you thought about talking with a lawyer?” You asked, like some lightbulb lighted up above your head. “You know, I can talk with my brother if you’d like, he could help you save time.”

Minnie’s expression suddenly changed, she raised her eyebrows and slightly opened her mouth in surprise, but it wasn’t because of your offering, it was for something else, you just didn’t know what.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t worry, it’s not necessary.” She rushed to say. 

“How come it is not necessary?” You questioned. “Minnie, a lawyer is essential for this kind of stuff. I’m sure that Simon could give you some advice, if the situation is not good he could arrange a meeting with the council or something like that.”

You could see her doubting, the hesitating look on her face, looking at her hands as she tried to say something but couldn’t.

“You know that money is not a problem, I could talk to him about it.” You insisted, assuming that money was the reason for her doubt, she already said that they were struggling with the repair, you assumed that hiring a lawyer was too expensive to even consider. 

Minnie pursed her lips, “It’s not about the money, actually.” She said, looking away from you. “And thank you, baby, it’s just that… uhm, we already consulted a lawyer.” 

You sat straight in your chair “Oh, really?” You uttered, surprised. “What did they say?”

Your friend stood up from her seat, wandering around the kitchen while looking for something in the cabinets “He’s going through the documents for now, handling the legal stuff.” She trailed off, and you felt she was leaving something out. No, you didn’t understand a thing about law, but you could use a bit more information about the situation.  

“How did you meet him?” You asked, curious. “Do you know if he’s any good? You know, I don’t trust lawyers.”

Your comment meant to be a joke, but the girl in front of you didn’t seem to catch it. Her tone suddenly changed  “The only reason we have a lawyer is because it is a voluntary thing, so we don’t have to pay him. Otherwise, we would be lost, we couldn’t possibly afford a lawyer.” She went on, avoiding your question. 

“A voluntary thing? You mean he is doing it for free?” You frowned, dismissing the fact that she didn’t answer what you asked, or even laughed at your attempt at a joke. “Why?”

“He’s from… here and really likes the place, I guess.” 

“He’s from here and really likes the place?” You repeated, confused, you didn’t know many lawyers, but you were sure that was not reason enough to work for free. Minnie just hummed, not caring much to explain. “Do I know him?” The question resonated in the room, followed by a dead silence. As your friend pretended to be busy, taking the glasses out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their place, your words hung in the air, unanswered. “Minnie?”

“Yes?” You heard her voice. 

“Who is he?” You asked again, but your gut told you that you already had an answer for that.

She turned back, looking at you with a warning look. “If I tell you, are you going to be mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” You questioned, already feeling upset. You knew way too many reasons to be mad at that question.

“I’m not telling you, then.” She said, taking your answer as a yes.

“If you don’t tell me who you hired as a lawyer, I will start screaming.” You threatened like a little kid, pointing at her with the spoon as if it were a gun. 

“Okay, no need to scream.” She tried to persuade you.

“Minnie…” 

“I’ll tell you, but you must know that it wasn’t my decision alone.” Minnie took a step back from you, with her hands in the air. “And that I would have never said yes if we had to pay him, we barely have any money! How could I say no? Besides, he helps on the weekends with the repairs, he’s great with plumbing and everyone likes him, the guys adore him, the girls love him, everyone had already agreed before I could say a word, you understand-?

“Minnie!” You stopped her, waving your hands in the air “You are rambling, what are you saying?”

The redhead in front of you took a deep breath, composing herself. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She breathed out “It’s just that Yoongi offered to advise us for free, and then he went on to…-”

The name ringed in your ears the same way it did when you mother mentioned the dinner the other night, the same way it did when you brother couldn’t stop mentioning his name the night you stayed at his house, the same way his voice interrupted the silence when he came looking for you in your mother’s backyard, only this time it came from your best friend’s mouth.

“Yoongi!?” You suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “What do you mean by Yoongi!?”

Minnie took another step back, afraid that you would use the spoon in your hand to take her eyes out. 

“God, don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded, with her hands clasped together and her fingers intertwined as if she was begging for forgiveness.

You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head in disbelief. One thing was not to tell you of the fact that the town wanted to close The Alley because she was stressed and too tired to talk about it, and a completely different thing was not telling you that Yoongi, the only man who ever broke your heart, was involved, trying to ignore the fact that it was the place where you grew up. You couldn’t believe your friend didn’t tell you that Yoongi was trying to help to save the place that was directly connected to you and him. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” 

“No, that was not the reason.” She tried to deny, but the second you raised an eyebrow, she backtracked “I mean, not at first, but I was telling the truth!”

“Half the truth!” You accused her. 

“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands in the air, resigned. “Half the truth, I admit it.”

“But why?” You insisted.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart” She cried “ I don’t know… I was afraid you wouldn’t like the idea of him being involved in it.”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound thrilling, but I would want to know that it was happening, I don’t care if Yoongi was helping you with it.”

“I know, I know…” She trailed off, but there was still something she was keeping from you. Her gaze was fixed on her hands, she didn’t dare to look you in the eye. “It’s just…”

“What?” You kept asking “C’mon, Minnie… You don’t seriously think I’m still hurt by it, do you?”

The words came out of your mouth afraid to sound unsure, and the look she gave you finished to confirm it.

“Well, no-”

“Are you kidding? It’s been years, how could you think I’m still resentful?”

She raised an eyebrow the same way you did a second ago to accuse her, wondering if you were joking or not. “Don’t play dumb with me, you hate his guts.”

“I don’t hate his guts.” You scoffed, doing a very bad job at lying. In front of you there was the same woman who saw you crying for Yoongi all those years ago, the only person who you could talk shit about him with, you couldn’t pretend you were suddenly the most forgiving person when she was the only one who knew how much he hurt you. 

Minnie laughed, making it clear that she didn’t believe you one word. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, maybe I still hate his guts.” You conceded “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tolerate him.”

You could feel Minnie’s eyes scanning every feature of your face, you could feel the weight of her doubt in the air. How could you convince her that you weren’t annoyed by Yoongi helping her when you didn’t even know the answer yourself? “Is that right?” She said, taking a step closer to you. You just nodded, but you didn’t know if that was even true. “So you wouldn’t mind, let’s say, being in the same room as him?”

“Of course not.” You replied right away, trying to appear confident. “Wasn’t I in the same room as him just a few days ago?”

“Yes, you were, you’re right.” She acknowledged “In that case, let’s say I believe you.”

“Yes, because I’m telling the truth.” You said in the same condescending tone she was using.

“And let’s say that I believe that you are more than capable of putting aside everything that happened between you and Yoongi just for the sake of The Alley.”

“That’s right.” You nodded, with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“And if I were to ask you to help me with The Alley because you’re famous and you would help us raise a bunch of money, would you say yes even if Yoongi is there, helping too?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh escaped you, thinking she was joking. But as you scanned her face for even the slightest hint of jest, a cold realization settled in your gut—she was completely serious.

“You have to call my agent for that kind of stuff, you know that?” You tried to joke, but she was not backing down. 

“I’m not joking!” She pleaded “I was planning to ask you for a long time, but I didn’t know that you would want to do it since Yoongi is always around, but if you’re telling me you don’t care about him…”

You close your eyes shut. “It’s not only Yoongi- I mean, it’s not about him at all” You corrected yourself “I would love to help The Alley in all the ways I can, but I’m not sure if I want to play the superstar role right now.”

She nodded, immediately understanding “It’s fine, I get it, but I’m not asking you to play the superstar role, I’m asking you to be the girl I knew all my life, the one who’s passionate about theater and loves The Alley as much as me.”

A genuine smile spread across your face, feeling a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. “And the girl who’s also famous and would help you raise a bunch of money?”

She scoffed, “Well, you happen to be all of that too, isn’t that great?” You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Look, I’m not saying that you should say yes right now, but you should at least go with me this friday and I can show you some of my ideas, what do you say?”

Friday was just four days away, that was not enough time for you to decide anything, but because you loved Minnie, and you loved The Alley, and honestly, because you didn’t have anything better to do, you agreed to think about it, only for now. “Fine, Friday it is.”

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve. 

The last night of the year always felt as if something was about to change, even if it never did. You clung to that feeling of hope, as if time were real, as if the sun and the stars ruled your life and you weren’t the only one capable of controlling it, at least that way you weren’t able to blame yourself for feeling like something was missing when you came home at six in the morning, drunk and hopeless. 

Change, future, and love were becoming curse words in your vocabulary, and if you saw a shooting star tonight, you would wish to forget any meaning you had ever learned about them. But if you stood in the street tonight, shaking in the cold winter air as you looked up at the dark sky, waiting for someone to give you all the answers, you feared your life would be wasted. Your life wasn’t ruled by the stars, it was ruled by you, it was about time for you to realize.

Tonight you didn’t need the universe to tell you what to do, what you needed was a drink or two to gather the courage to confront Yoongi, but the second you entered the silver room with the silver lights, you heard some sappy song from the 2000’s and for a second you almost forgot about his hands holding yours, or perhaps you were just desperately trying to. 

“C’mon,” He called you, grabbing your hand to walk you to the dance floor “you must dance! Or they’ll kick you out.” 

You laughed and rolled your eyes, but followed him as he made his way through the sea of people to reach the center of the dance floor. The room was packed, it smelled like cigarettes, weed and perfume mixed together, there was a huge contrast between the cold weather outside and the heavy and humid air from inside. Minnie was lost somewhere else, she was part of the committee that organized the party and wanted to check that everything was exactly as she planned it, so you and Yoongi were now alone, again. 

Time spent with Minnie had a way of dissolving the anxieties that once clung to you when you first visited The Alley after coming home, you were no longer afraid of being recognized, in fact, when you came here the other day to watch When Harry Met Sally and some old friends recognized you, you didn’t try to run away, you took a second to hug them and catch up, you were also surprised to find out that none of them hated you like your imagination made you believe they did. Turns out, people grow up and grow apart and there was nothing bad with that. It was always a desire of yours to run away from this town, but only if you could make sure that you could return to The Alley anytime you wanted, it was a relief to know that now you could. 

You had missed it, the parties, the music, the ten disco balls on the ceiling and those moments where the room was so dark no one could see how badly you were dancing, except those few lights that were were still shining in your eyes the same way your dress did every time Yoongi twirled you around. He didn’t miss any of that, he was paying attention, he observed your eyes, your nose, your lips, the way the straps of your dress rested gently on your collarbones, your body and your waist, his hands on your hips, how he couldn’t keep them away from you and how you wished you could just ignore it.

Yoongi was not shy, he was never shy when you were alone and tonight, even if you were in a room full with people, it felt like you were. He was dancing like you were the only one watching him, he laughed, he winked at you and drew you closer to him to whisper things in your ear in the middle of songs. You danced in the only way you knew: shamelessly, and when Yoongi said he needed some air you promised him to go outside with him for a moment, you were sweaty, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you knew you needed to check your lipstick in a mirror, but only after finishing dancing to Rock ‘N’ Roll Star by Oasis. 

If there was a way in the universe that could stop the turmoil of your mind, that would be dancing, and it was working like a charm.

When the song was about to end, you began making your way out of the dance floor, but you immediately changed your mind when you heard the first chords of Sex on Fire blasting from the speakers. You stopped in your tracks, yanking Yoongi’s hand and making his body crash into yours. 

“Stop!” You yelled “We can’t not dance to this song.”

“Pinky…” He whined, trying to complain, but you were already beginning to walk backwards, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You have to dance with me!” You insisted “You know this one!”

His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, the kind that could only promise trouble. 

How lucky you were that Minnie wasn’t around. If she had seen the way you were looking at Yoongi at that moment, she would have slapped you in the face to snap you out of it. You were aware that you had an initial plan and that you weren’t anywhere near to pulling it off, you were aware that you were running off of excuses and that time wasn’t going to be on your side for much longer, but was it too much to ask for a few more moments like this? Those glimpses of something else, those evanescent instants where you didn’t have to wonder why you were dancing to this song with someone who was supposed to be your friend, with his lips threatening to brush with yours, his fingertips on your back, and his gaze fixed on you. You could hear your heart begging you to kiss him and your mind pleading you not to, but the only thing you understood was the way Yoongi sang each word to your face, so close you could explode. 

You giggled and jumped to the rhythm of the song and sang back, forgetting all the words you practiced with Minnie, and all the things Minnie said and all the things you promised to do tonight. If you were to put an end to this now, you could at least have this moment. 

“What is that?” Yoongi asked, observing you approaching him with a drink in your hands. 

Going back to your own words, you hadn’t had much to drink tonight, you were too busy dancing or maybe it was the unbearable knot in your stomach that didn’t allow you to even think of alcohol before ending up throwing up. Ultimately, you decided to stay sober, this was only your second drink of the night and it was offered by Minnie, who you just encountered at the bar a few minutes ago. She yelled at the bartender, ordering a drink for both you and Yoongi. With a wink, she added two straws to the cup and playfully nudged you back towards the dance floor.

“It’s sex on the beach.” You mumbled without making eye contact with him. At least no one could say Minnie wasn’t funny. “A present from Minnie.” 

“Two straws?” Yoongi said, leaning forward to sip the drink through one of the straws. “Isn’t she a matchmaker?” 

Well, he had no idea. 

“Buddy, if you want another drink you should buy it yourself.” You scoffed, drinking from the other straw. “You are the one who’s been drinking water the whole night.”

“I have plenty of things that I need to do tonight, I have to be sober.” 

“Plenty of things?” You questioned “Like what?”

You joined Yoongi as he leaned against the wall, holding the cup between the two of you. 

“Like driving you home.” He replied “What would Lila say about me if I show up drunk.”

“You never get drunk. You have the highest tolerance.” You laughed. “And even if you did, my mom would say that I was the one who got you drunk.”

“And maybe it would be true,” he snarked, leaning in with a playful grin, his lips brushing close to your ear. “I would tell her that you forced me to dance so much that the only way I could keep up was by drinking all the beer from the bar.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you huffed, digging your elbow into his ribs to push him away. “But I bet she would believe anything you say.”

Yoongi smiled, cocky “I bet she would, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of the drink before feeling your throat slightly burning. “What’s up with the slow music?”

You looked around, seeing a few couples slowly dancing in the middle of the room. The lights were red and Fade Into You by Mazzy Star was playing softly, the dance floor was less packed, you thought it could only mean it was about to be midnight. 

You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist to draw it closer to your face so you could check the hour on his watch. “It’s about to be midnight.” You announced. “They start playing love songs before midnight.”

“Why love songs?” He questioned.

 “So you can find the person you want to give your first kiss of the year.”

“Isn’t that a bit cheesy?” he teased, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Of course it is.” You said, chucking  “That’s the point.”

Yoongi nodded and set his cup down on a nearby table, extending his hand toward you. “Fine, let’s dance then.”

You observed his hand extended to you, a bit hesitant. “You slow dance, too?” 

“Tonight I do.” He revealed. You had no other option but to take his hand.

You’ve never been to a New Year’s party at The Alley, but since Minnie was heavily involved in the preparations you knew a thing or two about how it went down. When the lights turned yellow and Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer suddenly began playing, you knew you were just a few minutes away from the New Year. 

You had never been much of a slow dancer, so you were not sure what to do, but Yoongi seemed to have no problem with it, he led the way without making you look pathetic. You knew he had more experience with romantic scenarios than you, and even if you’d had your share of romantic relationships, it all went down to boring boyfriends, bad boyfriends, and boys who didn’t want to be your boyfriend at all. As he laid his hands on your waist and his soft gaze upon you, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a romantic moment at all—nothing had ever been as close as this.

“So… did you have fun?” You asked him, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

“I am having fun.” He emphasized, “Why are you asking as if the night is already ending?” 

“I don’t know.” You said, a playful glint in your eyes. “I guess because... I always get the feeling that you’re about to slip away.”

He raised an eyebrow, moving slowly to the rhythm, pulling you with him. “Slip away?” he wondered.

“Oh, you know, you’re the kind of guy who slips away.” You smiled softly, enjoying the look of confusion on his face.

“I don’t know what that means.” He laughed.

“I mean… the guy who people always expect but always leaves early.” You tried to explain, but that didn’t do much for Yoongi’s understanding.

“Do you think I always leave early?” He inquired, making you laugh. 

“You leave early sometimes.” You confirmed “Most times.” 

“Well, I don’t quite enjoy parties.” He confessed, but you already knew that. When you were younger, you always followed Simon to parties. He tried so hard not to get annoyed at his little sister; annoying him was supposed to be your job. And as fun as it sounded, you were never really there for Simon, but to catch a glimpse of his best friend. Of course you soon learned that hanging out with Yoongi at your house was much more entertaining than observing him flirting with the prettiest girl of the party just to watch him leave with her an hour later. If you ever found Yoongi at a party, it was most likely because Simon dragged him to it, you guessed you weren’t so different from your brother. 

“What about this one?” You teased him “Are you leaving this party early?” 

 “Mmm, no.” He shook his head “I won’t be disappearing tonight.”

“Is that so?” You asked, and he nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “What’s different tonight?” 

For an instant, Yoongi's gaze drifted around the room, as though searching for a reason to stay, before finally settling back on you.

“You, maybe.” He asserted calmly, his voice steady.

You laughed nervously, feeling your chest tighten. “What about me?” 

“Nothing, you look really pretty.” He simply said. “I wouldn’t leave a party if you’re looking this pretty.” 

Your breath got caught in your throat “Yoongi…” you whispered, but he could hear your voice just right. 

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Stop that…” Your voice came out weak as you placed a hand on his chest, attempting to create some distance between your body and his. Yet, with his hand resting on your lower back, he gently drew you closer once again.

“Stop what?” he dared to ask,

That—this, whatever you had going on, whatever was happening between you and him—had gotten to a point of no return. All the cards seemed to be on the table, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to it. Yes, you could see it, you could feel it, but you were still afraid.

“Nothing, never mind,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“C’mon, tell me,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek with one hand. A teasing smirk danced on his lips, making you want to punch him, but the hand you meant to push him away with gradually glided down his chest instead.

“That thing you’ve been doing.” You murmured, tilting your head to lean into his touch.

“What?” He scoffed, “What thing I’ve been doing?” 

“Exactly that.” You pointed out. “Stop playing dumb with me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a mocking tone on his voice. 

You slightly punch his chest with your fist “That, too.” You pouted, feeling his thumb grazing over your jaw. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, stop that.” 

“Am I doing that?” He smirked, the amusement in his eyes clear as he watched for your reaction.  “How exactly?” 

“Don’t piss me off…” You threatened, as if your threats had any value when you were wrapped in his arms, when your voice sounded so weak.

“You’re incredible, really.” He said “Aren’t you the one who’s trying to drive me crazy?”

You blinked, clearly not grasping the situation.

“What are you talking about?” You demanded to know. 

Yoongi bit his lip, holding back a smile “Pinky…” He said like it was obvious, but everything was a blur, a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you. 

“Yoongi…” You spoke in the same tone as him. 

“What? Am I insane or am I just imagining you pulling me in just to push me away later?” His words didn’t sound harsh, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice. You couldn’t help but frown deeply, bewildered. 

“Are you serious? I’m not doing that.” You said, feeling your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The truth was that you weren’t even sure if you were doing that or not, but you were not willing to admit it. “You’re the one playing games with me.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head in denial “I’m not playing any games with you.” 

“Really?” You snickered, bitterly, but he was quick to deny it. “Not one?” 

“No, not one.” He assured you, confidently.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What games am I playing, you say?” 

“You know what I’m talking about.” You tried to dismiss it, too embarrassed to say it out loud. 

“You are not being very communicative with me, Pinky.” 

You scrunched your nose, it was only a matter of time for him to start annoying you “You…-” 

“I?...”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what you did.” 

“I actually, no, I don’t know what I did.” He jested. 

“Yoongi, you tried to kiss me!” You blurted out, your words tumbling over each other. “Before Christmas, you tried to kiss me and a second later you acted like nothing happened.”

“No-” He tried to defend himself, but you were quick to interrupt him. 

“Yes! You acted like I imagined everything.” You kept accusing, “You keep leaving me stranded, wondering if I just went mad!” 

You felt your heart racing with each word you spoke, but Yoongi was unphased, completely calm, you could even see a glimpse of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“Pinky, I did want to kiss you.” He admitted with a tranquil smile, as if sharing a simple truth “You weren’t imagining it, I wanted to kiss you so many times, I still do.”

It was like someone was playing a bad joke on you; the proximity of his face, the weight of his words, his gentle touch all over your body, it only made your breath hitch, your heart skip a beat, you felt like you were floating in the air in a different dimension, because this could not be real. It was like a force of habit, you couldn’t believe something good was happening to you even if it was right in front of your face.

“Then, why didn’t you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, surprised that you had mustered the courage to wonder that out loud. “Why didn’t you come looking for me after?”

“I always come back to you, are you kidding?” he replied, chuckling softly, though his gaze held an unexpected seriousness. “But you looked horrified, that day in your grandmother’s house you stormed out, you ran away, what was I supposed to do?”

You couldn’t recall that day without feeling a chill running down your whole body. The sole memory of your bodies pressing against each other, his deep voice, his dark eyes and the embarrassing moment when you had to open the door to find your mother standing there was enough to keep you awake at night. The only option you had was to run away, you thought it was only logical, but now you felt your whole face burning red as Yoongi accused you of running away from him.

“Well, because you…! “ you dug your finger into his chest, exasperatedly trying to find the right words to put on a good fight. “You confuse me!”

“Do I?” He mocked you. “Am I confusing you?”

“Yes, you do!” you argued, ignoring his implications “You say and do all these things, you grab my hand, ask me to run away with you, you try to kiss me and then-“ 

“And then what?” He snapped, making you swallow your words “And then I give in, don’t I?”

“No!” You protested, squinting your eyes. “You disappear, you come back, you leave, you leave me hanging, you confuse me. How can I know what it is when I don’t know what you want, when it seems that you don’t even know what you want?”

“I’m not trying to confuse you, I know exactly what I want.” He laughed without humor. 

“And what’s that?” You demanded, frustration boiling over.

“Pinky, I know that there have been people around you that tried to make you believe that you weren’t good enough, but that it’s simply not me.” He said “I want you, is that so difficult to believe?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a mess. “That’s not- Thats…!” Your words tangled, and now you were barely making any sense.

“That’s the truth, I grab your hand, try to kiss you and when you push me away I come back home just to dream of you all night, convincing myself that I’m not completely insane.” He paused, his gaze locked onto yours, as if begging you to understand.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as if that would somehow clear the storm of emotions swirling inside you. His confession was overwhelming, every word sinking into your chest. You felt your head spinning, you couldn’t process all those words, not when your heart was threatening to escape from your chest and his hands were still on your face, demanding you to look at him. 

“Because that’s what I’ve been doing since last summer, asking myself if I lost my head” He continued “And, Pinky, that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I have to be okay with it. Because I would rather watch you all night wearing that dress, wishing that I could take it off, than having nothing at all.” 

A lump formed in your throat, your breath hitching as you tried to form a response, but no words came. You simply gulped, utterly speechless, trapped between disbelief and the wild beating of your heart.

“Yoongi…” you whined, barely managing to get his name past your lips. The words you needed were nowhere to be found.

And then, in the least convenient moment, the countdown started, the room filling with the sound of people shouting numbers.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “What? What should I do, hm?” His lips grazed over yours, so soft that it felt like a question in itself.

“I can’t handle this,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to steady yourself. “This is too much. I can’t.”

He paused, his eyes searching yours, and then, as if trying to make sense of the situation, he asked softly, “Should I turn around and leave?”

You shook your head, quickly, repeatedly, without a second thought.

“Tell me, then.” He pressed, his voice almost a plea.

Still caught in the hazy blur of the moment, you could hear the countdown approaching its end, yet he still hadn’t pulled away. It felt as if you were under a spell, frozen in place, unable to move. You were breathing heavily, overwhelmed by the lights and the music and the people chanting, overwhelmed by his words, his body and his gaze fixed on your lips. The fleeting feeling that you were dreaming hit you for a second, but when everyone around you started counting four, that thought quickly vanishedYou heard three, and the realization that he was waiting for your response hit you like a bolt of lightning. You heard two and you got the feeling that if you didn’t do anything about it now, you wouldn’t do anything about it ever, you heard one and, against every rational thought, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him. 

It was not a soft kiss, it was rushed, rough and messy. You closed your fists around his shirt, pulling him closer as he opened his mouth to search for your tongue in desperation, the way his fingers gripped your hips burned right through your clothes, driving you to the edge. You could hear people yelling and laughing, you could hear the fireworks outside, the song that started right after the countdown, but you were completely absorbed by him, by his lips, by the way he held you, no one had ever kissed you with such determination, with such dedication. 

You had spent years dreaming about kissing Yoongi, but you never thought it would be like this—like your lips fitted just right with each other, as if in this universe he was made only for you. The moment was electric, igniting a fire deep within you, and all the doubts and fears that had held you back melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the sweetness of his breath against your skin.

His feet carried him to the nearest wall, dragging you along until he pinned you against it, never breaking the kiss. For a fleeting moment, he pulled back to catch his breath, his gaze lingering on your lips before he devoured them once more. His hands traveled down your back, tempted to listen to his thoughts, to touch your body in the way he really wanted. 

You laid your hand on his chest, gently pulling away “Is this what you wanted?” You whispered, excitement filling your voice.

His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Not even close,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement. 

There were only so many ways you could imagine the night ending, that was what you thought before leaving your house earlier tonight. If you were lucky enough, you would’ve come back home in one piece, sober and with your heart intact, that would’ve meant that you didn’t dare to take any risks, you would've let the night finish its course without rushing it, finally accepting that you were a coward. If you were unlucky, you would’ve come home crying, drunk and with your heart shattered; that would’ve meant that you did take risks, but the universe simply wasn’t ready to take your side yet. You could’ve laid in bed and fantasized all you wanted, but none of those scenarios would’ve ever looked like this one. 

As Yoongi opened the door of the entrance of his building, you caught a glimpse of the hour in the watch on his wrist. It took him half an hour and more than a few kisses to ask you to leave the party with him, two minutes to pick your jackets from the cloakroom, and only five minutes to drive to his apartment, and yet it felt like the longest car ride of your life. You thought that after twenty one years of life of never getting what you wanted, the universe should at least grant you the wish to skip the car ride to Yoongi’s apartment, because you had never felt so much tension before. You sank in the passenger seat and tried to avoid his gaze as much as possible, the mere thought of being alone with Yoongi was starting to give you goosebumps; the seat belt and the fact that he had to keep both hands on the steering wheel were the only things that were keeping him away from you. 

The scenario was displayed right in front of you; he opened the door, letting you inside first and walking to the elevator with a cheeky smirk on his face. It wasn’t in your plans to leave less than an hour into the new year, and yet you were there, following the person you tried to forget so many times into his apartment, feeling like a handful of nerves.

You observed him opening the doors of the old elevator and then ran to get inside before him, crashing your back against the wall so it could keep you as far away from him as possible. You still didn’t understand what the fuck you were doing going into his apartment. 

Yoongi got in after you, staring at you like you went mad, and honestly, it kinda felt like you did. You wanted to punch him when he laughed at you as he closed the doors, curiously raising his eyebrows. “Are you running away from me?” He asked, pressing the fourth button on the wall. It only took him one step to be as close to you as he was. You breath hitched, not feeling as confident as you felt when you were surrounded by people. “Still?”

You felt the sudden shift as the elevator ascended to the fourth floor. Yoongi and his mom had always lived in the same old building. The hallway walls were a dull brown, and the elevator had heavy accordion-style metal doors that folded inward and had to be closed manually. When you pressed the button to go up or down, the whole thing shook as if it was about to break down—but it never did. The mirror inside was old and smudged, you caught his reflection in the corner of your eye but you tried to ignore it, his presence alone was making you shiver. 

You shook your head, unable to utter another word. 

“No?” He kept insisting. He was teasing you, he had been teasing you for the whole night and you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. You were tired of playing nonchalant, you just wanted to kiss him again.

He took a step forward, grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him. His fingers found each other in the small of your back, pressing you against him and taking you by surprise when he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and kissed you deeply. He slowly opened your mouth to slide his tongue past your lips, making it difficult to breathe or to even think. 

You grasped his shoulders with your fingers in case he wanted to pull away but there was no need. You weren’t sure how many times you had tried to decipher whether you were caught in a dream or if this was reality, because there was no way Yoongi knew exactly how to kiss you to make every logical thought on your mind disappear, but when the elevator shook again you were pulled out of your trance, you were not dreaming, somehow this was real. 

“Who knew this was the only way to get you to shut up.” He murmured, brushing his lips against yours. 

“Fuck you.” You whispered, and you hated it because it doesn’t come out as an insult at all.

He chuckled, “Oh, there you are again.” 

He took your hand to drag you out of the elevator, leading the way to his apartment door at the end of the dark hallway. 

For Yoongi, your house was almost like his second home—but you could count only a couple of times you had been to his, like when your mom picked him up because Simon and he were going to a comic convention for the first time. You were ten, already with the worst attitude, mad that you had to go with your nerd brother and his nerd friend to some nerd convention. But when you arrived at Yoongi’s apartment, he took you to his room and—attempting to change your mood—showed you the keyboard his mom had gotten him for his birthday. You remembered that a few weeks prior, he had told you he was teaching himself how to play, and you asked him if he could learn "Last Night on Earth" by Green Day. That morning, before leaving, he played it for you under one condition: that you stop being mad.

When you walked through the door and saw the living room immersed in complete darkness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he still remembered how to play the song.

“Do you still have the keyboard?” You asked, unsure how to act around him alone. The air felt heaving, and nerves were still fluttering in your stomach. You had never been nervous to be alone with a man ever; it was usually the other way around, but not with him, never with him.

Yoongi smirked, not believing you were thinking about that. “Is that why you’re so quiet? You’re thinking about my old keyboard?”

“You’re pissing me off.” You warned him, digging your finger on his chest, but he’s quick to pull you close to him again, laughing at you. You, who were always so cocky and quick-witted with your insults, now you were standing there, struggling to find a retort. There was no way you were this nervous to be alone with a man you’ve known literally all your life. 

“It’s in my room.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over your waist. 

You swallowed, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

“I…” You tried to say, but he was still looking at you the same way he was observing you back in the car, it was probably the same way he had been looking at you during these past weeks, but you couldn’t help but feel it was different. “I didn’t mean that.” You managed to finish your sentence. 

He quietly chuckled, shaking his head “You want to see the keyboard. What else could you mean?”

You pressed your lips together, holding back the urge to curse him again. Ignoring your red cheeks, he took your hand before you could say anything back, making his way to his bedroom. 

Yoongi’s home hasn’t changed too much, except for the frames on the walls that now had pictures of a much older Yoongi, or when he graduated high school and pictures on family holidays. You took a second to look at them as you walked towards his room but you were distracted when you felt his fingers on your chin, gently turning your face towards him.

“I like that picture.” You pointed at your left, a picture your mom took when both him and Simon graduated. It was Yoongi and Nari, his mom. Yoongi had a fresh cut and some square black glasses that he changed as soon as he got into college. “I was really sad when you left.” You confessed suddenly.

You weren’t intending for your words to carry a touch of sorrow, but they still linger with a hint of sadness in the air. 

“Were you?” He murmured and you nodded.

You had always wondered what would have happened if you and Yoongi had grown up at the same time—what if it had been you instead of Simon? You wouldn't have had to see them leave together; you wouldn't have felt so disappointed when they came to visit every other weekend. Maybe you would’ve grown up less angry. You came to accept what you had, Yoongi was there for every important moment of you life; he taught you how to drive, helped you pass your math tests, he was the one who talked you out of your relationship with your asshole ex boyfriend, he was there for your graduation, to send you off to college, he was everywhere but you, on the other hand, were just a tiny piece of his life. 

He cupped your face, chasing away all those swirling thoughts as he kissed your lips softly. He walked backwards, guiding you into his room while deepening the kiss. As the door closed behind you, a quiet certainty settled in your heart: your past had led you to this moment.

You sighed, feeling the ghost of his lips when he pulled away to search for something.

The dim light of the lamp next to Yoongi’s bed didn’t do much to illuminate the room, but provided enough lighting to observe how much it changed since the last time you were there. It didn’t look like the room of a teenager anymore, most of the posters were no longer there and the action figures were replaced by books now, but his keyboard was still folded next to his closet. 

Yoongi grabbed it and carefully put it at the feet of his bed. He sat on the edge, inviting you to sit between his legs.

You narrowed your eyes at him, hesitating. “You…” 

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, tugging at your hand and guiding you to sit on his lap, your back against his chest as you faced the keyboard.

And, by the way, have you mentioned how nervous you were? You took a deep breath, dreaming, hoping, wishing he wouldn’t notice, but you were a fool if you thought Yoongi couldn’t read you like the palm of his hand. 

“Do you do this with all the girls?” You dared to ask, but the truth was that you didn’t want to know the answer. 

He kissed your exposed shoulder, resting his chin on it. “C’mon, you’re the one who asked to see the keyboard.” 

You turned your head to him, a bit offended. “Is that a yes?” 

“That was a no.” He retracted himself, he knew you well enough to know that he shouldn’t play with you unless he wanted to see you walk through the door. “What about the keyboard?” 

You decided to ignore the swift change of topic. “Do you still remember how to play?” You asked, touching the keys and jumping a bit when it sounded a bit too loud. 

“I’m a bit rusty, but sure I do.” 

“Do you remember when… I asked you to learn a song?” 

“Yes, I remember that,” He said, chuckling. “I also remember that the day I played it for you you were really pissed because your mom couldn’t find a nanny and had to hang out with me and Simon. You called me a nerd, very cruel.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “God, I was such a terrible kid back then.” 

“Well, yes, maybe.” He admitted “But you were also a really cool kid. You made us listen to My Chemical Romance the whole ride. I remember that your mom hated it, but it was the only thing that could keep you happy.”

You bursted out a laugh, remembering how big of a fan you were of My Chemical Romance, you still were. Your mom thought you were too young to be listening to that, but Simon bought you their second record for your birthday and she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she had no other option but to let you keep it.

“I don’t know how my mom put up with me,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “It probably drove her crazy.”

“Mmm, you always had that effect on people,” he teased, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “In both good and bad ways.”

“Is that really the impression I leave on you?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully. He hummed thoughtfully, admitting it without hesitation. “And in what way is it for you?”

“In both ways,” He replied, his tone light and teasing.

You bit your lips, trying to hold back a smile. “You’re so whipped, it’s ridiculous.” You said “I wanted you to play the keyboard but I rather hear you compliment how cool I am.” 

“Oh, shut up.” He huffed, gently slapping your thigh “What did you want me to play, again?” 

“The song I told you!”  You reminded him. 

“Oh, right!” He laughed, “I remember it, it was easy to learn.” He said and began to play the first chords “It reminds me of you, how could it not?” You smiled, watching his long fingers make the room full with music, you sang the song in your head, being hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. “I want you to play it with me.”

You frowned “But I don’t know how.” 

“I know, dummy.” He replied, grinning as he halted the music and pulled his fingers away from the keys. “Like this, see?” He gently took your hands, aligning your fingers with his, his palms covering the tops of yours as he began to play.

You laughed, fully aware it sounded awful—nothing like when he played solo—but your heart had never felt so at ease. His laughter danced through your hair, his body shaking beneath you, and you lost track of when the sound might end, as if it were a never-ending loop. All you wished was for it to last forever. 

After two minutes, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing the song to a halt. “You’re good with the keys,” he joked. “Not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. It felt a bit strange to be so close, but when his hands glided up and down your exposed thighs, and he looked into your star-filled eyes in the dim light, it suddenly felt just right.

His eyes were shining under the dim lights, biting his lips as he grasped your hips to keep you in place. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Nothing, it’s just…” He said, somehow pulling you closer “I missed you while I was gone, that’s all.”

How much? you wanted to ask him, and when, for how long? And why? You wanted to know everything, to dive into the turmoil of his mind, to see yourself through his eyes.

You wanted to make an effort to hide how easily you melted when it came to him, but then again, why hide it? If you had the chance to grab his face and kiss him, that was exactly what you should do, and that was exactly what you did. 

Your tights hugged his waist, and you tried not to flinch when his hands gripped your waist, slowly running his palms down the curve of your ass. He kissed you slowly, fingers tracing the line of your jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow and intoxicating. Each movement was controlled, filled with intent, as though he was savoring every second, every breath you shared. The warmth of his lips, the soft hum of desire between you, built gradually. His fingers teased their way under your dress, but they stopped there for a moment, as if he was playing with you. He pulled away, leaving a peck on your lips. “You aren’t so shy anymore.” He teased you, brushing his nose against yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you squinted your eyes at him.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “And…” his lips moved to your jaw, “…you are…” then to the curve of your neck, “…so pretty.” Taking advantage of how lost you were in the moment, he gently flipped you over, positioning himself between your legs, now hovering above you. 

Yoongi sighed, feeling completely defeated. He, more than anyone, knew how beautiful you were: you were beautiful in the mornings, with messy hair and sleepy eyes; when you wore mismatched socks and a hoodie; in your pajamas; when you stumbled over your words,when you were shy and flustered, when you were angry and looked you were about to kill someone. Even if you hid in crowded rooms and always sat in the back of the class you couldn’t hide it, you had grown up beautiful, but specifically tonight you seemed to have stars in your eyes. All your makeup was smudged, half of the product of your lipstick was on Yoongi’s face and the dark shadow in your eyes was a mess, but he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

“You have the prettiest eyes, you know that?” 

You felt your cheeks flush, heat creeping up your neck. “Are you trying to make me nervous?” You asked. 

He kissed your lips before answering “Why, is it working?” 

You shook your head in denial, lying shamelessly. You ran your hands from his abdomen to his chest, not knowing what to do next. Your mind and heart were racing, if you thought twice about it you didn’t even know what you were doing there, laying under him as he caressed your thighs, as he kissed your neck, as he pressed his body firmly against yours. 

“Can you tell me something?” You whispered.

He gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “What is this?”

“What was that thing you said about last summer?” You asked “What did you mean?” 

Those words were still ringing in your mind since you heard them; that's what I’ve been doing since last summer. You wanted to know what he was talking about, but instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. “C’mon, tell me…” you chuckled.

“I was not supposed to say that out loud.” 

“Why?” You insisted “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed.” He firmly said “But there’s some things I should keep to myself.” 

You rolled your eyes “Yoongi, tell me now…”

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” He said, surrendering to your tactics, which consisted only of a warning glance. “Last summer we spent some time together, some time with Simon, some time alone, but always together. I began to see you differently, you were different, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.”

“Why were you feeling guilty?” You cautiously asked. 

He stopped for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Mmm… I felt I wasn’t supposed to look at you differently.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Exactly how different?”

“Well, different,” he repeated, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“What was it?” You frowned “Was it my eyebrows? I laminated my eyebrows for the first time last summer. Everyone said I looked prettier.”

Yoongi shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. How could you think it was your eyebrows?

“It wasn’t your eyebrows, but they suit you nicely.” He complimented, making you smile. 

“Well, thanks.” You happily said “But then, what was it? I don’t remember being particularly diff-”

“It was your bikini, Pinky,” he interrupted, his confession coming out suddenly. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words. You blinked a few times, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he looked serious—almost too serious. “There was this weekend where you were wearing a bikini with strawberries on it and… I gave you more than a few looks and felt like I was beginning to go crazy…” His expression remained sincere, almost thoughtful.. “I thought it would go away, you are a pretty girl, I supposed it was only logical to feel attracted. But then, I started to dream about you and that made everything worse, but that’s too much information.”

“No, I want to know.” You kept insisting, teasing him “Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

“You don’t want to know.” He brushed it off. 

You reached for the buttons of his shirt, with a gentle touch, you unfastened the first button. “But I do want to know.”

Yoongi leaned in, kissing your lips softly as if that could make you forget the topic of conversation, but of course it didn’t, you were still looking at him, eager to know. 

“Dreams, Pinky, of you…  in that bikini… without a bikini, in my bed.” He said in a soft breath as he swept his palm on his face. He didn’t look embarrassed but you could tell he would rather not share that information. A single flashback of one of those dreams was enough to drive him to the edge. He thought that after leaving they would stop, but you keep appearing in the back of his mind like some kind demon, sent to earth just to torture him.  You weren’t embarrassed either, you wished he could tell you more. “And the worst part is—that wasn’t all. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just say that I’m only a man, and trust that at some point my dreams would stop. But even outside my dreams, you were still there, and you were funny and smart and you seemed to be the solution to all my problems. I don’t know, I keep wondering if I was nuts.” 

You could only gaze at him, with your eyes wide and soft, absorbing every word. You had spent the whole summer with Yoongi and yet, you haven’t noticed his change at all. Yoongi wasn’t like other boys, he was composed, he knew how to controll himself, but you found yourself wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t. You bit your lip, smiling. “And what about now?” You asked. “Did you come to a conclusion after all?”

“Yeah, a few” He nodded “I think I wasn’t crazy for dreaming of you, but I will be if I don’t take this dress off you.” 

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

[honeybunhottie]

Oo headcanons for Chris or Josh crushing bad on Alt!reader? maybe like a gothic or metalhead style?

feel like both would be absolutely geeked about some scary looking women!!!

- 🦐

Omg I love this idea! Sorry in advance if this is totally off, I'm not super knowledgeable about the styles or culture but I tried my best! Please keep sending requests!!

Chris and Josh with an Alt! Reader

We’ll do this before the events of the game because I feel like they’d have too much going on otherwise.

Chris

This man LOVES alt baddies and I can say this for a fact

My source? I’ve never known a nerdy man who didn’t like an alt baddie

He and Josh are jokesters through and through. And also lowkey pervs

I can just imagine one day Josh is teasing him about never getting any

And then here walks by you, dressed head to toe in an outfit that’d probably make his mother scream

And he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Immediately his friends catch onto his (frankly, not subtle stare) and start teasing him

Eventually they have some pity and tell him your name at least.

This man makes it his mission to have an interaction with you

Spends at least a month stalking observing you in the hallways

What outfits you wear, what your friends wear, your fav eyeliner brand, how much you hate your lab partner, your plans after school, all of it

One time you bumped into each other and dropped your notebook

Papers flying everywhere and all

He helps you collect them all, and when your fingertips brush his hand feels like it’s evaporated. He didn’t know it was possible for appendages to feel like sparkling water, but here it was happening

When you say a simple “Thanks, Chris” he swears his heart stops

He kicks himself for the gaping stare he gave in response as he stuttered out something unintelligible. Like it seriously keeps him awake at night 

He knows he’s bordering on the weird line of things, but there’s literally no chance you guys would cross paths otherwise (in his mind at least)

Because little does he know, the was also a fact about alt baddies

I’ve never met one who didn’t VICERALLY NEED a nerdy man

Yep, you have noticed this blond nerd always around

Yes, you did think he was cute

And yes, your friends absolutely do notice

Eventually, they get tired of your mutual pining because it’s more than obvious that neither of you has enough balls to ask each other out. 

They set up a plan with the other squad to set you up, because everyone is tired of these two dorks fumbling around each other

They decide to pull the “make group plans but nobody shows up” card for the new movie coming out

Chris is chilling in the hallway on his phone,anxiously glancing at the door every other minute because why the hell aren’t they here yet?

He freaks out when he sees you walk in, dressed even cooler than usual, all by your lonesome. 

You seem lost, looking for something before checking your phone. You sport a flustered look afterwards.

At the same time, Chris feels his phone buzz with a text too

‘Have fun man!’

‘Good luck!!’

‘Take ‘em to the bone zone buddy!’

He rolls his eyes at the last one before realizing what they’re referring to

He looks up from his phone only to get jumpscared by you standing right next to him

“Looks like we’ve been set up”

He immediately starts apologizing before you put a finger to his lips to shush him’

“I’m kinda looking forward to this”

Lord help him

He’s still singing Josh’s praises years later though, so something worked out right!

Josh

I loveeeee Josh

And nothing about this man screams subtle to me

Will he immediately tell you to your face how hot he thinks you are?

Probably not

Will he find every opportunity to hang out and find things in common with you?

Yes, 100%

This man is around every corner, every turn with that bewitching stare and stupid laugh

I feel like he would love your alt style. I mean he’s super into horror movies and the darker side of things, I feel like he’d enjoy someone different.

Flirty jokes galore, he loves making them, he’s kinda weird like that

He loves it if you match his energy too

He’s always asking about what music you’re into, have you seen that new movie? There’s this new haunted house coming soon.

He loves quality time, and he wants to become friends before he makes a move or anything.

Once you guys are FRIENDS, then he starts making moves

This man is playing chess while we are playing checkers

I have a feeling that it’s not too noticeable at first

Lots of jokes still

Lots of “jk jk, unless…”

Nahhhh

Unless…

He’s always getting you the new album for your fav band, or buying you cool stuff when he gets dragged to the mall with his sisters.

Is a firm believer that it’ll happen if it happens

And is very content to just ride along with you.

Overall, 10/10 we love them both