#this stream is happening right now so it may change but here is what i know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

galactic-magick · 8 months ago

Note

here i come with arcane prompts bestie >:3

but this one might hurt ;-;

also SPOILERS FOR S1 IF ANYONE HASNT SEEN IT YET

/////

how about a reader's reaction to the council getting bombed O_O

their frantic attempts to find their lover(Viktor ofc :3), but who they find may not be the man they once knew TwT

I got a little carried away with this one bestie...

I Thought You Were Dead: Viktor x Reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut about halfway through. I put a *** before the smut starts in case anyone doesn't want to read that part. Reader has afab anatomy but no pronouns or feminine specific endearments are used. Also LORE SPOILERS, if you don't know what happens to Viktor in the League of Legends lore then don't read this!!

Author's Notes: This could be read as a part 2 to my other Viktor fic Nights Like This, which takes place in Act 1 whereas this takes place after season 1.

The explosion was deafening.

You can feel your soul sink as soon as you step outside your house, watching the smoke surround the council building. Your feet start running before you’ve processed anything, pushing through the gasping crowds in the streets with their eyes glued to the same devastating spectacle.

Tears stream down your face against the dusty wind, praying to anyone who will listen that your worst fear hasn’t happened. Running as if getting there faster might change the outcome.

It can’t end like this. Not when you haven’t said everything you want to say. Not when you have so much left to do together.

Not when you haven’t said goodbye.

The truth is, you haven’t even seen your husband in several days, maybe even a whole week. He’s been distant lately, so consumed by his experiments that he rarely comes home anymore. You knew what you were getting into marrying a scientist, especially the finest scientist in Piltover, but it still hurts. It hurts to see him driving himself mad and getting sicker, refusing to let you take care of him like he used to. He doesn’t like when you come to visit him at the lab because it’s too dangerous, and he doesn’t come home because he wants to be in the lab—so you’ve stopped trying. You can’t bear to see him hardly eat or sleep for days. You know he loves you, and you still love him, but right now there’s no getting through to him, and all you can do is wait it out until he either comes to his senses or succumbs to his torturous research.

Your mind flashes back to all the fights you had, begging him to come home, begging him to let you stay by his side. You both said things you shouldn’t have, hearts torn apart in mourning of a marriage that once was so perfect. You miss the nights where you were each other's safe space, where the world didn’t feel so grand and overwhelming. You wonder when it was exactly that you stopped fighting, when you gave up on begging and simply loved him as much as you could whenever you finally saw him.

A large battalion of enforcers encircle the scene, pushing back civilians as they attempt to view what happened. The rubble has fallen into mountains, several of them on fire.

You know he was in there. He must’ve been.

“Where are the survivors?!” you demand, shoving against the enforcers.

“We have not found any yet. Please return to your home-”

You pull out the knife you keep in your pocket for emergencies, pressing it against the enforcer’s throat, “My husband was in there. I am not leaving until I find him.”

The other enforcers turn their weapons towards you, and you quickly realize you’ll never beat them with nothing but a dagger and deep rooted rage.

You drop the knife to the ground and put your hands up, awaiting your fate. Would they kill you? Send you home with a warning? Trial you?

Well, not without a council.

“Please…” the sobs return, their weapons still pointing at you. “I just want to know if he’s alive. Just let me look for his body-”

You’re cut off by hands on your wrists and mouth, handcuffing you and knocking you out.

Several months later...

You should’ve known any retaliation against an enforcer could get you thrown in here.

Back against the stone wall of your cell in Stillwater, you envision that day once again, hating yourself for being so stupid. Without the council, the enforcers have started throwing literally anyone in here. In an attempt to contain the chaos of no longer having a government, even the smallest crime or protest is equivalent to murder. All you did was threaten an officer for information on your husband, but that was enough to banish you from any possibility of ever seeing him again.

If he was alive, would he know to come find you? Or would he go back home to find you gone and assume you died? Would he throw himself back into his research regardless of the tragic accident, not even noticing you haven’t tried to visit him in months?

Most days it’s easier to just tell yourself he’s dead. The man you loved so deeply no longer exists, and you’ll never love again. This is your life now, cold and dark and hopeless.

You sink to the floor, leaning on your side in an effort to get some sleep.

Though your slumber is awakened not long after by terrifying noises down the hall.

A collection of screams, an alarm bell, and loud clanging fill your ears. You jump up, looking through the bars of your cell to get a glimpse. You see nothing, but then begin to hear stomping footsteps thundering towards your end of the hall.

You stumble back to the far wall, shaking as the footsteps get closer.

The first thing you see is a pair of glowing orange eyes staring at you through the bars, and your breath leaves your lungs.

Is this really how you’re fated to die?

With ease, the mysterious figure rips off the door with what looks like a mechanical arm. The dim light hits him, and your entire body trembles. He’s covered in metal plating and armor, his face covered with a thick mask. He doesn’t strike you as human, except for what looks like human hair falling around his head.

He walks towards you, and you cower in his shadow. What does this machine want from you? You have nothing.

He says your name, and you freeze. It’s modulated and echoed from the mask, but you are certain that’s what he said.

And you’re also certain you’ve heard that voice before.

The figure reaches his hand towards you, the cold metal of his fingers touching your face. It tingles, as if there’s energy sparking through. His other hand lifts off his mask and drops it to the floor.

“Viktor?”

Parts of his face are covered with metal plating, but it’s undoubtedly him. Same eyes, same nose, same cheekbones. His hair swooping down the sides of his forehead and the small gap between his teeth.

You throw your arms around him and kiss him, your body hitting his metal torso hard enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care. You kiss him until there’s not a single atom of oxygen left in your lungs, and even then you risk a few seconds more, his lips worthy of causing suffocation. Your fingers slide into his hair, just as soft as your remember. He gently embraces you back, wary of hurting you with how tightly he wishes to hold you.

“Viktor—I went to find you that day—“ you pant for air. “I thought you were dead—“

“I know, darling, I know,” he kisses your forehead before fervently returning to your lips. “I thought you were dead too before I heard word of people being sent here.”

He breaks apart from you and you let out a soft whine, “Vik-”

“I have to get you out of here now, okay?”

You nod in understanding and grab onto him as he puts his mask back on. He races back down the hall, pushing any leftover guards out of his way. You cling onto him, in disbelief that he moves so fast with ease. So many questions run through your mind, but you know you’ll have to wait for answers.

He carries and holds you in silence until you both get to safety. You don’t recognize the place he’s taken you to, but it’s undoubtedly his space. The tools and gadgets all over the tables and walls, the dim light you don’t understand how anyone could work under, the journals with different equations written barely legibly. You wonder if your old home is still standing or has been taken by someone else. Either way, this is your home now.

With him.

He takes off his mask and you’re once again met with his beautiful face. Scarred and tired, but still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him.

“I’m so sorry. For everything,” he says. “I know I will never be able to make it up to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am never letting you leave my sight again.”

Your bodies instinctively wrap around each-other, him picking you up and setting you down on one of his desks. The sensation is so new, since he’s never been strong enough to lift you before. Despite the novelty though, it feels as if no time has passed, as if this is a routine you’ve done every day, his hands all over you as soon as you’re alone.

You want to ignore the insanity of all this, how the love of your life has returned to you encased in metal. You want to forego all the questions, letting him continue his kisses on your neck and the wandering fingers on your thigh. You wonder what he feels like now—if it’s different—if what he can do to you now will make you forget every tear you ever shed for him.

You sigh, completely drunk on his touches.

“Viktor…” You look into his eyes, tracing your thumbs along his now metallic jaw. “I want to know what happened to you. Please.”

His caresses slow, his focus shifting to your words, “I will tell you everything, I promise,”

You grasp his hands, “Then tell me.”

He exhales, looking down at himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. He doesn’t want to risk you thinking of him differently or not loving him the same. Without you, he’d have nothing left to stay human for.

After all, he’s more machine than man now.

“I was as good as dead,” he finally says. “My injuries should’ve killed me, but an old…” he hesitates, “...friend found me. He helped me use hextech and shimmer to fix and augment my body. I’m stronger now, I can help more people now, I can protect you now. I’ve evolved beyond my human ailments-”

“Viktor,” you interrupt him. “Who helped you?”

He falls silent, fully aware you already know the answer.

“How could you?” you scold him. “How could you go back to that horrid, vile man? Who knows what he really did to you?”

“Singed may have unethical methods, but I assure you I’d be dead right now without him. You wouldn’t understand-”

“I understand that he sees you as nothing more than an experiment! What’s going to happen when this new body starts to break down? He’ll replace you with more mechanical parts until there’s nothing left of you. He does anything to make his specimens survive, and you know that!”

“So you’d rather me be dead? You’d rather still be in Stillwater, rotting your days away in misery?”

The floodgates of your glassy eyes break, and you let out the ugliest of sobs that have been building up for too long. No, you don’t want him dead, of course you don’t.

But there are fates worse than death.

You clumsily grab for him, pulling him between your legs and surrounding him with your limbs. Your lips crash together once more, this time more carnal and aggressive. Regardless of how angry you are, you can’t deny that you need him desperately. He cradles your face, wiping your tears away as they fall.

“Just promise me…” you beg into his mouth. “Promise me you won’t go back there again. Stay with me.”

“I promise,” he hums. “But you have to promise me something too.”

“What?” your eyes are already fluttering deliriously.

“You have to promise you’ll let me apologize every day of the rest of our lives,” he brushes his lips against your ear while his hands wander up your shirt, “And I think I know how you want me to do it.”

Your eyes widen, shivers already running down your spine.

***

It’s been so long, your body yearning for his as if you’ve been deprived from him for an eternity. You want to feel his new hands everywhere, his new fingers inside you…

Viktor wastes no time stripping you down, your shirt and bra flung across the room. He buries his face between your breasts for a moment before hoisting you up again, carrying you to the mattress in the corner.

“Since when do you ever have a proper place to sleep in your labs?” you laugh, sinking into the unexpected comfort.

“I didn’t get it for sleeping,” he smirks, placing kisses across your chest and shoulders, “I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I rescued you.”

“You’re telling me you got this bed just to fuck me?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, completely matter-of-factually.

You chuckle, a genuine smile stretching across your face so wide it almost hurts. You haven’t laughed or felt the pure joy and bliss of being in love in so long.

“I…” Viktor speaks again, hovering over you. “I don’t know fully what this new body can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. “Is it...different?”

“Everything’s different,” he leans down to kiss you again. “Let’s just hope it’s in a good way.”

You nod enthusiastically, pulling him down to you. His cold metal torso presses against yours, a surprisingly pleasant sensation. You quickly acclimate to the new textures of his figure, wondering if any skin still exists.

He remembers all the places you like to be touched and kissed, and you grow more impatient by the minute. You’ve needed him—ached for him. You want him in any way he can give you.

He pulls off the rest of your clothes, teasing his mechanical fingers in circles around your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” you moan, slithering your own fingers into his hair.

Viktor’s always been good with his hands, being an inventor and all. He’s never once failed to satisfy you with his hands alone since you’ve been together, and he certainly wasn’t stopping now. He goes slowly, constantly needing reassurance that you’re alright. There’s nothing sharp about his fingers, a relief to both of you. They move just like his old flesh did, pulsing in and out with the finest precision. There’s moments where you feel a slight vibration, although you’re unsure if he’s doing that purposefully. Either way, he keeps you in ecstasy until you eventually come undone.

You pull his lips back up to yours immediately, craving his taste. His hands run down your body once again before returning back to the same spot.

You yelp his name as he works more fingers inside you. This is unheard of, him going back for more so soon. You had grown accustomed to his low stamina from before, and you never minded multiple rounds being a rarity. But now there’s not a single hint of exhaustion on his face, his augments freeing him from much of the pain that used to plague him. Instead there’s determination in his eyes, a drive to make love to you until you can’t take it anymore.

He builds you up to your second orgasm of the night, kissing and holding you softly as you come down from it.

“Viktor…” you sigh, completely out of breath. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down his body, “Darling, I...I’m not sure if everything works the same. You don’t have to worry about me—“

“Let me try,” you plead. “Does any of this come off?”

He nods, removing the outer layers of metal with clicks and hisses. It was hard for you to tell where the armor ended and his body began, but the more he takes off, the more you recognize his familiar silhouette. There’s still patches of flesh here and there—warm skin to your fingertips, fused with the augmentations flawlessly.

And it seems the area you’ve wanted to see is one of the places untouched.

Well, not completely untouched. It’s covered in glowing purple veins, throbbing like they’ll explode any second. Viktor looks into your eyes nervously, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“It’ll be okay,” your breaths are hot, hovering over his lips. “Now tell me what you want, darling.”

“You.” he moans as your hand takes hold of his hardness.

“Everything seems to be working fine to me,” you smile, lining him up with your entrance. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s shaking, for the first time since all his enhancements. He’s been so strong—no—indestructible, yet one look at you and the vulnerability returns in crashing waves. He’s still the same man you fell in love with, but now he could too easily hurt you.

He presses in slowly, eyes locked on your expressions for any sign of discomfort, but they never come. Instead, the noises and faces you make could be enough for him to finish right then and there if he didn’t have such control.

“Viktor…” you sigh, pulling him towards you as he bottoms out. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He stamps kisses on your jaw, then nuzzles his nose into your neck, “You feel even better than I remembered.”

“Do I now?” you chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he looks back up at you.

“Mmhmm,” he begins to thrust in and out slowly, earning more luscious sounds from your lips.

There’s so much of him that feels the same, but the sensation is so new. Is he bigger than before? Is it just the different texture from the shimmer experiments? You’re not sure, all you truly care about is that he feels divine.

You’re both getting close, whispering “I love you’s” until the long awaited release. He holds you tightly afterwards, refusing to let go until you both catch your breath.

“Viktor,” you ruffle his hair. “As amazing as that was, I don’t think I can handle a round four.”

He chuckles, “That’s alright. I’ll only go as long as you want me to. There’s always tomorrow.”

You giggle, kissing the top of his head. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at the mess you both made, “I think we ruined your new mattress.”

He glances as well, noticing the cum stains, some of them a light purple color, a supposed side effect of the shimmer, “We’ll get a new one. For now lets get you cleaned up.”

He picks you up in one swift motion, carrying you outside. His new lab is conveniently next to the river, and far away enough from other houses to protect your decency. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. The stickiness rinses off, and you’re left to admire your lover once again in the moonlight.

He glistens under the stars, his gaze soft and sweet, just as it’s always been. His hands never leave you, caressing your wet skin gently and adoringly.

He’s still everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s still the man you’d die and kill for.

He’s still the one you’ll spend the rest of your days with, no matter what he becomes.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #machine herald x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #machine herald #arcane

474 notes · View notes

loveu2themoonandsaturn · 1 month ago

Text

“SLUT!”

loosely inspired by the taylor swift song.

steve harrington x fem!reader

a/n: tried to get the word count but I fear I lost track at 3k and that was maybe only the halfway point 😭 also sorry for the potentially shit formatting, I’ve never done this before and I typed the whole thing in the tumblr app. hope it doesn’t ruin the reading experience 😅 all credit for dividers goes to @strangergraphics!

angst, hurt/comfort, fluff(ish), no use of y/n, second person, office gossip, way past upside down but hawkins is still that same small town, very 80s/90s attitude toward sex, slutshaming, sort of miscommunication trope (more like meddling jackass trope) minor injury (no blood), reader is mentioned as having meat in her freezer and consumes dairy once, only kinda beta’d because every time I try I just end up ADDING THINGS, smut 18+ MDNI, filthier tags below.

contains: porn with an unreasonable amount of plot, protected piv fucking (girls we cannot afford children in this economy, wrap it before you tap it), soft pleasure dom!Steve, needy Steve who may or may not be real big on talking you through it, oral (m+f), fingering, some ball sucking, intimacy, love confessions (i’m sorry😭), eye contact, hickies like a motherfucker, no body type mentioned, no hair type or length mentioned, y’all prolly know most of the drill.

hope you enjoy! 🩵

Steve swore he felt his soul leave this side of heaven when he felt a fist slam against the front desk of the Family Video, right next to where his head so happened to be resting, wrapped up in his own arms. Whoever just did that was about to hear a piece of his mind.

“Hey man, what the hell- oh. Hey,” He relaxes for a moment when he sees that it’s you, but only for just that moment.

Because then he sees your face.

Hot, angry tears are streaming stoically down your face from a pair of red, puffy eyes. He panics at the expression that paints the face he so adores.

His immediate instinct is to fix it.

“Baby, what’s wro—”

“Don’t you fucking call me baby right now,” you cut him off. Your voice is cold, almost devoid of emotion. It worries Steve. “Why would you say those things about me, why would you lie?”

Steve’s head is spinning now. Lies? Talking about you? Was he still asleep, dreaming? Had he accidentally shifted into another dimension? Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, slow down—”

You scoff. “I don’t believe that for a second. I believed you when you said you’d changed, that you weren’t that same douchebag we all knew back in high school,” you pause, throat catching on the lump nestled deep within it. “But I was wrong about that. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

Steve felt his heart shattering, and he didn’t even know why, didn’t understand what on earth was going on.

“Wait, no, I’m serious, I don’t know what we’re talking about here, please!” He’s desperate now, needs to know what he did, what transgression he forgot that he must now atone for.

“You expect me to believe you don’t know what your good friend Tommy got up to this morning?”

Tommy? Tommy Hagan? Steve hadn’t so much as spoken to that toxic jackass in years, what could he possibly have to do with anything-

“Because I walked into work today and was greeted by him, in front of all my coworkers, announcing that he had a gift for the new town whore,” you choke out, voice no longer cold, but bitter. Angry. Sad. “And he handed me what must have been the deadest, most rotten bouquet of flowers left from the supermarket, with a card. ‘To the SLUT, courtesy of King Steve,’” you say, voice raised enough to catch the attention of several now-nosy movie perusers.

Steve stands slack-jawed, floored at the mere thought. He wasn’t even sure how Tommy knew he was seeing you, let alone what he could have done to give him the impression that you had slept with him.

Unfortunately for Steve, you don’t take his silence for the shock that it is.

“Nothing to say for yourself? My reputation is in shreds, my boss won’t look me in the eye and my coworkers haven’t stopped whispering since 9 a.m., yet you have nothing to say for yourself?” you spit, incredulous.

Steve’s brain finally gets with the program and makes his mouth move.

“Honey, I didn’t know anything about this,” he pauses when you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I haven’t talked to Tommy since high school. I have changed, I’m not the person that I used to be, and even if I was still friends with Hagan’s sorry ass, I would never, ever lie about you like that. I like you. I care about you. I would never put that in jeopardy.”

Steve’s eyes are pleading, which you might notice if you could even bring yourself to meet them.

“God, Steve, please don’t treat me like I’m stupid-”

“I’m not, I’m not!,” he cuts you off. “I swear, I don’t know how he got that idea into his head, but I would never do that to you!” Steve is fighting the urge to raise his voice. You deserve his gentleness, even during a fight, he thinks. That gentleness is clearly not mutual, though, at least not right now.

“Is it because I said I wasn’t ready?” you say, voice at a low volume.

Steve feels his heart thud restlessly in his chest, hurt and pain lashing at the muscle.

“Wh… What?” He’s giving you an opportunity to back out, clarify, say you don’t mean what he thinks you mean. But you double down.

“Is Tommy doing this out of some weird bro-code respect for you because I said I wasn’t ready to have sex with you.” You ask it like it’s a statement, a sure thing, no real questioning to your tone.

He’s hit with a wave of this sick feeling in his stomach, this inescapable dread at the thought that you might believe even for a second that he would stoop that low. He swallows, a thick feeling as a lump in his own throat starts to make itself known.

“You really think that poorly of me?” he mutters out, pained.

You shake your head, tears falling faster now.

“I didn’t Steve. All my friends told me I was being stupid, too trusting of you, giving you too much benefit of the doubt, and I…” you prick your finger into your own chest, bone meeting bone as the digit presses into your sternum. “I told them they were crazy. That they were stuck in the past and that you were so different now. I defended you.” You let out a mirthless chuckle. “And look where that got me. Do you know what half the town will think by this time tomorrow? They’re gonna that I spread my legs for the first man to show interest in me, for the man who has a well-documented history of taking what he wants and leaving, and they’re going to think I’m pathetic and easy for it.” He’s never seen you like this. It’s agony.

“In a way… the truth is almost worse. Because I was stupid enough to let ‘King Steve’ come and pretend to be all sweet and gentlemanly and brand-spanking-new. I guess the punishment fits the crime, right? I believed you, and now nobody is gonna believe me.” You start to turn on your heel, halfway ready to walk out the door.

“Wait, wait!” Steve is frantic now. “I don’t know how this happened, but please, give me a chance, let me fix this for you,” he begs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hands finally coming up to wipe away some tears so you can at least leave with some dignity.

“I don’t think this is something you can fix.”

And with that, the best thing in Steve’s life walks out the door.

Hurt doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels. But it’s quickly replaced by rage, blinding anger that someone would do this to you. More anger yet that Tommy-fucking-Hagan of all people would crawl out of whatever hole he’s been living in to, to what? Ruin his chance at happiness with you since Carol dumped him the second she went away for college? Hurt you just for being associated with Steve and a better future, not his past? What the hell is this?

He’s dialing Robin’s number before he can even think straight, asking if she can do him a favor and stay the last hour at the store, close up. He mindlessly agrees to whatever condition it is she sets; he’s hardly paying attention, because now? Now he has business to attend to.

The night is young, and Steve knew he’d luck out eventually by just going from filthy dive bar to filthy dive bar. After all, there were only so many places in Hawkins where a burnout could go to delude himself into thinking he’s not there to drown his sorrows.

It’s at the fifth one that he lays eyes on Tommy, looking worse for wear. He’s surrounded by a couple other guys that walk and talk and dress like Steve used to in high school, Tommy’s obvious attempt at replacing him. He almost wonders if he’ll find a pseudo-Carol somewhere in the crowd, waiting to dote on him.

Steve overhears Tommy talking, who clearly does not know he’s even been found and is being watched.

“I mean, you guys should have seen the look on her face. Harrington’s girl was basically a puddle, I guess she knew she got caught. You know what they say, though boys—”

“Yeah? What is it they say, Tommy?” Steve’s sudden interruption brings a mix of shock and satisfied jeers among the little crowd. Tommy turns whistles, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! Big King Steve back from his latest conquest. What’s wrong, your girl can’t handle the consequences of her own actions?”

Steve’s jaw gets tight at that; he’s trying damn hard to maintain some semblance of control. All he can think about is how bad he wants to punch that smirk off Tommy’s face.

“And just what do you think you know about her, huh Hagan? Or did that half semester of college give you time to get into shitty creative writing?” Steve grits out.

“Oh, please Harrington, don’t act like half the town didn’t see you two heading into your place this weekend. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together,” Tommy says, cocky as ever.

A moment of realization hits Steve then. He had brought you to his house, at night, and you two were alone. He’d let you sleep in the guest room when it got too late. It never even occurred to him that someone was watching, let alone would assume something went down between the two of you and spread that assumption around.

He feels like such a fucking idiot.

He knows this town, knows these people. They love nothing more than a scandal. Something to gossip about. He should have been more careful with you. His own anger with himself turns into rage at the sorry excuse for a man now standing before him.

“You’re such goddamn dumbass, Hagan. She’s not a whore, a slut, an anything. She slept in the guest bedroom, and she only spent the night in the first place because I said it was too late to drive her home.”

Tommy and his gaggle of trust fund babies, one of whom surely paid for the flattening beer he takes a swig from, all elbow each other, exchanging knowing glances.

But they don’t know shit, Steve thinks.

“Listen, Harrington, it’s cute that you want to ‘defend her honor,’” Tommy mocks, “But at the end of the day, nobody in this town was born yesterday. I’m sorry her feelings got hurt just because people noticed how easy she is, but that’s how it i- what the fuck dude??”

Tommy is cut off quickly and finds the edge of the bar jamming into his spine, with Steve Harrington having rushed in and wrapped his fists into Tommy’s shirt collars.

“She is anything but easy, you son of a bitch,” Steve seethes, pushing Tommy back again for emphasis. “Six months we’ve been dating, and I haven’t touched her. You know why that is? Because I actually give two shits about her, I have respect for her, something you’re not capable of doing or having for anybody.”

Tommy is thrown off guard, but quickly recovers, slapping that smirk right back on his face. Steve decides then and there that he hates that smirk.

“Listen buddy. We all remember your track record when it comes to anything that involves fists,” Tommy sneers. “Unless you wanna get your ass handed to you, I suggest letting me go. It’s not like anyone would believe she’s the choir girl you want us to think she is.”

Steve laughs, the sound dark. He laughs, and that confuses the hell out of Tommy and his crew.

“Maybe you peaked in high school and forgot that other people grow past who they were at 18, but the rest of us didn’t. So if I were you? I’d get to work fixing this shit, unless you want to have to fix your goddamn teeth, buddy,” Steve says, his threat only cushioned slightly by his sarcastic remark.

“Like hell I will,” Tommy yells before shoving Steve off. He swings, and color quickly blooms across the apple of Steve’s left cheek. “Now get the fuck out of h-”

Tommy doesn’t get to finish. Or do much of anything, really.

With one solid, square hit to the chin, Steve lays Tommy out, leaving him with nothing more than a sure concussion and a nice sticky spot on the bar floor to come to on.

Tommy’s herd of friends stand in stunned silence, a strong juxtaposition from their earlier mindless chittering. It’s satisfying, if Steve is honest with himself.

Steve steps closer to them, causing a few of them to back off, clearly not wanting to be next.

“When he wakes up, you tell your little friend here to fix the mess he made, and that if I so much as have to hear someone utter his name again for the rest of my life, I’m coming back and beating his ass, and next time I won’t stop once he’s on the ground. Oh, and make sure he leaves me and my girl alone, yeah?”

Something about Steve’s energy is enough to have them nodding, no questions asked.

Steve storms out of the bar, only one mission left for the day.

You’re home in your apartment, taking your feelings out on a bowl of ice cream and watching Pretty in Pink for what must be the ninth time, when you hear knocking at your door.

You find yourself wondering who the hell would be knocking at this hour, only irked at the possibilities running through your head.

You’re already yelling through to the person on the other side as you make your way to the door.

“I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling and I already know Jesu- Oh.”

You swing open the door to find none other than Steve Harrington, looking a lot more bruised than the last time you saw him.

Both of his eyes look apologetic, pitiful, and the quickly forming mark beneath his left one certainly isn’t helping your resolve.

You have the urge to kick him to the curb, but find that, in spite of what you believe he did, you didn’t leave your feelings for him at the doors of the Family Video when your hightailed it out of there earlier that day.

So that’s how you get here, with Steve sitting on your kitchen counter, right fist squishing into a bag of frozen peas, left hand pressing a freezer-burnt steak into the respective cheek. Your movie is forgotten, frozen in time, and what remained of the ice cream has been left to melt.

You’re silent, plaid pajama pants and your softest T-shirt hanging on to your form, only shielded somewhat by the fuzzy robe that sits open, mostly just draped around your shoulders. As you lean against your fridge, you take a long sip from your mug, warm liquid soothing as you fight to break the silence, the tension that seems to suffocate the room.

You don’t ask where those bruises came from. Curious as you are, you find you’re not sure if you really want to know. However, you’re not left to wonder for long.

“I’m pretty sure I put Tommy Hagan in the emergency room tonight.”

Your eyes nearly fall out of your head with how wide they get, head snapping up when he says that.

“I, um, got real pissed when you told me what he did to you, and I went from bar to bar until I found him. I told him to fix it, and he acted like it was some big joke, and I was just seeing red, but in my defense, he hit me first,” he rambles, gesturing vaguely to the slowly thawing slab of meat currently taking up half the real estate on his face.

You continue to stare at him, bug-eyed and unmoving. Steve finds himself unable to stop talking under your gaze.

“He said he or, someone, I guess, saw you come into my house the other night and never leave and so they like? Assumed the rest, and I’m sorry, because I definitely should have thought about how it might look before offering you the guest bed, or I should have taken you home, or I should have slept on the goddamn sidewalk so it was incredibly clear nothing was going on but I didn’t so I told him, or I guess I told his friends to pass along the message, to fix it and he was just out cold on the floor of the bar and I-”

“Steve.”

He finally stops, looking at you. He sees tears welling up in your eyes and immediately assumes it was something he said. He starts to apologize, but you hold up a hand, shaking your head.

“I just can’t believe you would do that for me,” you mutter, at a loss for words.

Steve, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, says, “I mean, of course. You’re my girl and someone was mean to you. I’m crazy about you, why would I let anyone hurt you just to take you away from me?” He cocks his head when he asks, eyes innocent. “And I mean, it doesn’t hurt that Tommy is the biggest jackass in all of Indiana and has been earning that knockout since we were like, 16,” he laughs out.

For a moment, the cognitive dissonance is winning out. You’d fought with yourself all day about the kind of person Steve Harrington is. Who, until very recently, he always was. All day, you’d let the voices of high school friends permeate your head, losing trust in your gut, in your own instincts, in what you thought and believed. You had yourself convinced that you’d allowed yourself to be blinded, had just wanted the attention, the affection, and that Steve had never ever changed, just got better at hiding it. But maybe the truth wasn’t so simple.

A tear falls. In assuming he had broken your trust, had you broken his?

You know it’s not your fault. Not really. That blame belongs squarely on the shoulders of a loser who’s going to have to explain to a less-than-nice nurse just why he came through the doors of the emergency room with a concussed head and a dislocated jaw.

But you fell for it. A few mean looks, some workplace gossips whispering in the break room, and you fell right into Tommy’s trap. Hook, line, sinker.

What was it that made you so easily believe the worst of the man who has, throughout your relationship, shown you nothing but affection and kindness?

Guilt gnaws at you, because you think you know.

“I’m so sorry for not believing you. And for all the things I said earlier. I was… I was cruel. I was mean and defensive and let some pseudo-high school drama put me right back in that place mentally, put you right back to who you were in my mind, and that was unfair. I was punishing you for your past, and you didn’t deserve that,” you say, looking over at Steve now.

But Steve is having none of it.

“I spent years being the worst version of myself to everyone around me whose pants I wasn’t trying to get into. I was vindictive and, sometimes? Flat out evil toward people who weren’t high enough up on the social ladder for me. If I had been in your position, I would have thought the same thing, because I have thoroughly earned that reputation. I don’t expect you to get rid of that past version of me in your head. I know you can’t just forget. You’re only human.”

He slides off the counter, frozen goods abandoned as he crosses over to you where you lean and looks you in your eyes.

“It’s my job to make up for it. To prove I’ve changed. That’s not trust that forms easily, it’s hard earned, and I intend to do everything I can to win it fair and square. To earn the right to be yours.”

You feel heat burn behind your cheeks at his sweet words. “So does that mean you forgive me for being a real bitch to you in front of customers today?”

Steve laughs, the sound jovial and refreshing after the day you’ve had.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to forgive, but how ‘bout I say all is forgiven if you can forgive me for being a huge dumbass?” His lopsided grin and the way he’s looking at you, all heart eyes and pure adoration… all of it is too much, too good, and all you can do is nod, a small, hopeful smile on your face.

“Good. Now, would’ya c’mere and let me comfort you? Let me take care of my girl after the shitty day she had?” He holds his arms open to you, hands waving you in.

You roll your eyes just a bit before giving in, immediately accepting the familiarity and warmth of your boyfriend’s arms. You’re so glad he’s still your boyfriend.

He kisses the top of your head and lets your face press into his chest, allowing his own heartbeat to soothe you as he holds one arm firmly around your waist, letting the other rub a flat palm up and down your back.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t deserve how they treated you today…” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear. “Only deserve good things… gonna give you all the good things to make up for it, yeah?”

The sheer relief you feel being here, with him uttering sweet nothings into your ear and treating you like the you’re the only thing that matters in the whole wide world, it makes up for it all, you think. Maybe tomorrow will be hard, maybe people at work will still suck, but you won’t be facing it alone. You’ll have Steve. That feels like enough.

You let yourself peek out from where you’d tucked yourself in so you can look up at this wonderful man who did so much today to prove that he’s not who everyone thinks he is. He looks back down at you and just smiles, staring into your eyes.

It may have been less than a day.

But, God, you had missed him.

So you indulge yourself, removing one of the arms from around his body and placing a hand far back on his neck, just enough to be able to run your fingers softly through the short pieces at the base, brushing your thumb along his jawline.

His smile falters for just half a second, replaced by the shivers you give him.

Encouraged by his reaction, you don’t hold back, using your hand as leverage to drag his face into yours for a sweet kiss. Your lips lock, and neither one of you moves away or lets go until the need for oxygen wins out. It’s stupid and sappy and exactly what you needed.

When you do finally have to let go, you’re both breathing hard, but Steve still finds it in him to make a suggestion.

“I think I left some sweats and a T-shirt here back when I helped you move in that new couch,” he gestures to the spot where you had just been wallowing, “How ‘bout I change and we get comfortable on the couch and you tell me every thought on that pretty little mind?”

You two do exactly that. He’s pleasantly surprised to find you’d laundered the very clothes he’d left over, something you shyly justified with the possibility that he might get stuck and need to spend the night, a concept which clearly flustered you to no end.

So there you are, curled up in Steve’s arms, same paused movie frame still on the TV, and you just rant about your day.

“…And if all of that wasn’t enough, she had the nerve to whisper one last snickering ‘whore’ to me on my way out! I don’t know where she gets off, especially since it was just last month that everyone heard she got caught sneaking out of the supply closet with the assistant manager!” Steve chuckles at that, “But it just sucked! I don’t mind being the center of attention, but good grief, not like this! These people are like vultures! It made me sad and mad and just a bunch of other things and it was ridiculous because it was all for something I didn’t even do!” you finish, Steve pressing comforting kisses into your temple.

“That’s just not right, honey. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says.

You lean into his chaste kisses, hands playing with his fingers where they sit clasped in your lap.

“I just… it’s ridiculous. I mean, half the reason I told you I wasn’t ready for sex was because I was so anxious, so terrified that somehow people would know and then they would judge me for it,” you shake your head. “And I know, that’s like bullshit, but it’s where my head was at. Today though? All I could think to myself all day was, I wish I would have just done it. I didn’t do anything and they still talked all their shit. If I’m going to be called a slut, a whore, easy, I should at least have gotten something out of it. Give ‘em something real to talk about, make the their bullshit worthwhile,” you muse. “Maybe I still should.”

You’re so lost in those musings that you barely notice the way Steve is staring at you, wondering if he’s had a stroke.

“What do you mean?” he says, certain he’s misheard.

He definitely knows what you mean. Being called on it, however, has you almost backtracking, your face so hot now he would surely get burned if he touched it.

You don’t look him in the eye, instead appearing very focused on each individual finger on his hands as they sit in your lap. You’re unfortunately noticing that he takes very good care of his nails, keeping them short and clean, perfect for— Stop that, you chide yourself, finally responding to your boyfriend, who is maybe having an aneurism behind you.

“I mean, just… it’s so stupid, the only reason I didn’t do something that I really wanted to do was because I was worried what people would say about me. That all seems pretty moot now so, I dunno… maybe we should… do it… sometime,” you mumble out, not sure if you’re embarrassed more by your seriously weird concerns about the opinions of others or the fact that you’re all but asking Steve to have sex with you.

Steve is not thinking about either option, though, being ever the opportunist.

“I would take you right now.”

Maybe you’re the one having that stroke?

You whip your head around and look at him, that same hungry look, the one he always gets when the two of you make out for just a liiiiiiittle bit too long, now gracing his face.

You whisper out, “Are you serious?”

He nearly scoffs at that. “I don’t play games when it comes to you,” a phrase that has a more than one meaning after his bar-side activities this evening, “I’ll always wait for your yes, and I’ll always stop at your no but… for that time in between? I’m making love to you like it’s my last day on earth.”

Your breath hitches, something deep within you warming and stirring at his words.

“Can I tell you something, Steve?”

“Always, gorgeous.”

You gulp.

“You’ve got my yes.”

Suddenly, you’ve been moved. You’re laying on your back on your couch and your very gorgeous boyfriend has one leg between your thighs, holding your face between both hands as his spine arches over your body and leans his face toward your face so he can kiss the air right out of your lungs.

You two had made out before but compared to this? Jesus H.

You hear the sound of your own soft whine as he readjusts and the movement presses his strong thigh firmly against your core. You watch as he breaks the kiss just to groan, already so satisfied, so intoxicated by you.

“That’s right pretty girl, just let yourself feel good, I’m gonna take care of everything, gonna take real good care of you,” he rambles, eyes squeezed shut as he nods at nobody in particular.

“You want that, baby? You gonna let me make you feel like you deserve?” He forces his eyes open to stare at you. Good God. You nod, another desperate sound that could maybe pass for a “Yes” pressing its way out of your chest.

“Atta girl,” he says before tearing his own shirt off, the garment landing somewhere on your living room floor.

He pushes his fingers beneath the fabric of the robe you’re still wearing, slowly slipping it off of you, saying, “Now anything you don’t want me to do, anything you want me to stop, you let me know, yeah? Let me hear you, baby.”

The robe is quickly abandoned beneath you as you all but blubber out a “Yeah, yes, Steve, I will.”

He stands up, leaving you confused for a moment.

“I’m not doing this with you for the first time on your couch. C’mon, sweet thing, up,” he says, reaching for your hands.

You take his and let him lead you to your own bedroom, shutting the door behind the two of you despite your living alone. In a way, it’s perfect, isolated in a way that makes you feel like it’s just you and him.

He turns to you, walking up to your form and kissing you again, his hands reclaiming their space on the sides of your face. You’re sure you’ll never get tired of that feeling.

His kisses last long, but almost not enough, his lips moving down to your jaw, your neck, searching for that spot that makes you—

“Oh, fuck, Steve.”

Found it.

He hones in on the spot, kissing and licking at it gently. His aim isn’t to leave a mark — not here, anyway — but just to make you feel good.

By the way you’re panting in his ear? He’s pretty sure he’s succeeding.

He walks you backwards, careful, only detaching himself from your neck to help lay you down gently. He crawls over top of you, his body caging yours.

Your shirt has ridden up, revealing a touch of midriff to Steve. It only makes him more feral.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, warm fingers brushing against the skin below.

“Can I take this off for you?” he asks.

You’re nodding, already moving to help him strip the fabric from your form. You weren’t wearing a bra because, truly, why would you be wearing one in your own home, so his eyes are free to land right on your chest and watch the soft jiggling as you breathe in and out.

You had worried that he might pick out spots on your body that made you insecure, but that worry flies out the window when you see that same hungry look back in his eyes.

Frankly, he looks so desperate, you almost feel bad.

“It’s okay, Steve, do what you want. I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t like it,” you say, encouraging him.

You truly do not have to tell him twice.

First he’s kissing that spot on your neck again, earning a breathy sigh and a pleased smile from your lips. Then he travels, lips attaching to your collarbone, and you feel it as he kisses his way down to your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth, thumb rubbing over the other one as his tongue works at this one.

That earns a good bit more than a sigh.

“Holy shit, Steve… that feels so, ah,” your voice grows pitchy as you bite back your moans. Your refusal to let him hear you doesn’t bother him one bit. It just means he has to work harder to pull those pretty sounds from you.

He switches his lips to your other breast, mouth laving messily over this nipple as his other thumb slips and slides across the one he just left.

You already feel so good, but you know he’s just getting started. The thought makes you shiver.

Once he’s satisfied with the attention he’s given to your nipples, he expands his journey across the map of your skin and starts sucking at the underside of your breasts, leaving marks only you and he will ever get to see. Whichever breast he’s not busy leaving darkening splotches on is being squeezed and squished, only adding to the feelings that all seem to be directed right at your quickly-soaking cunt.

Having left you littered with marks, some even landing on your torso and the soft skin of your belly, Steve looks up at you, lips swollen and wet from his hard work.

“Please say I can go down on you,” he sighs out, sounding like he’s in another world.

You balk at that for a moment, worried.

“You don’t have to Steve, I know guys don’t really like-”

“I want to. So, so fucking bad. I want to make you feel good and I need to taste you or I might actually explode. I don’t care how you keep it or what it looks like, I just, fuck!” His voice is pleading, his desire bleeding through every syllable.

He takes his kisses down to your hips, pushing your sweatpants and panties down just a touch to reveal more of your entirely-too-kissable body. He’s sucking at the thin skin there, leaving his mark on yet another inch of you.

“Please baby, if you want it, please let me,” he whines out, an incredibly sweet and needy sound.

Well shit. Who are you to say no to that?

“Okay, yeah, yes, you can, Steve,” you rush out, turned on beyond belief.

“God, yes, that’s my girl,” he mutters out, not even pausing to consider the effect those words are having on you.

You’d find it inconsiderate if it didn’t make you want him so much more.

His fingers are quick to hook back into both your bottoms, tapping the side of your hip so you’ll lift them as he all but tears the clothing from your legs. He easily spreads your now-bare limbs, eyes laser-focused on the absolutely sopping wet pussy that he unveils.

“Holy shit… is this all because of me?” he questions, experimentally sliding a finger through your folds, gathering your slick.

You laugh, breathless. “Have we been in the same room this whole time? I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life.”

His dick has been hard for a hot minute now, so that confession earns an almost painful twitch.

He can’t find it in himself to ask any more questions, just sliding your pretty thighs over his shoulder, kissing them as he makes his way down to where you need him most.

The first lick is thorough, but gentle. A trembling whimper leaves your lips, then the sound of his name.

He finds himself moaning at your taste, desperation to drink you in winning out.

He presses his tongue right into your waiting hole, occasional moans against you earning him yet another flood of your juices to taste, a tantalizing squeeze of your walls around him only complimenting the flavor.

He moves to lap at your folds, greedy, head only coming to a stop once he’s got the flat of his tongue rubbing circles over your clit. You finally lose the battle you’d been fighting, letting out a moan that makes you thankful your last next door neighbor just moved out last week.

Steve, cheeky as ever, smiles at this, hot breath from a laugh billowing past his tongue and onto you. He’s almost too good at this.

He gives thick, teasing licks to your clit, each one serving as punctuation as he talks to you.

“Best fucking pussy… Fuck… could eat this pretty pussy… mm… for the rest of my life… so good,” he murmurs, absolutely drunk on you.

“Steve…” you whine out, needing him so badly it nearly hurts.

“Oh, darlin’, I know,” Lick. “I know, pretty girl,” Lick. “Just need’ya,” Lick. “To be patient for me,” Lick. “Doing so good,” Lick. “Making me so proud.”

He picks right then to properly dive in, licking and sucking on you until you can hear your own heartbeat, feel it in your throat. The sounds you make for him are downright debauched, curses and expletives floating in between the sound of his name. He couldn’t be happier.

You’ve been clenching around nothing for some time now as been pleasuring you, though, and that doesn’t sit right with him.

So, before you know it, Steve is working one, then two fingers into your dripping heat, reaching farther inside of you than you ever could. Your hands quickly seat themselves among the roots of his hair, holding his head exactly where you want him.

Your cries ring out freely through the air, a weak, “I’m so close,” the only interruption. Your thighs have begun to squeeze around Steve’s head. He’s not sure if you’re trying to keep him there forever or shut him out but, it’s all the same to him. He’d happily wear you like a pair of earmuffs for the rest of the night. Best damn pair he ever owned, if he did say so himself.

He holds steady with his actions, moving his fingers just so inside you, repeating the same motion of his tongue against your clit until it hurts, but he’s well rewarded for his efforts.

“Oh, fuck, Steve, I think I’m… fuck, I’m gonna—” you’re forced to cut yourself off as an orgasm overtakes your body, pouring pounds of pleasure over you all at once like one of those giant buckets at a water park. It’s electric, overwhelming, and so, so good. Your moans lilt out, high pitched and shaped something like Steve’s name.

He works you through it; he doesn’t stop until you peel his head from between your legs, pulling him up for a kiss that leaves you both lightheaded, exchanging moans between each others mouths as your bodies press together. You can taste yourself on him, something you didn’t expect to make you as feral as it does.

Steve breaks the kiss, sitting back on his knees to admire his handiwork. Gorgeous, angry little hickies have already begun to bloom beneath your satin skin. He’s excited for the day they fade so he can go back and replace them.

You watch him, laying breathless while he ogles you with a smirk, scanning your body up and down to appreciate the beautiful mess he’s made of it.

It makes you decide that payback may be due.

Steve stands, ridding himself of his bottoms, hard cock swinging free. You can’t help but think to yourself how pretty he is, how unfair it is that he’s so pretty everywhere.

You move to get up on your knees in front of Steve where he stands next to the bed, kissing his face, his jaw, his neck, his chest, his—

“Wait, wait, baby, wait,” he stops you mid-descent. “As hot as it is that you want to return the favor, I don’t think I’ll last and I really, really need to be inside you.”

It’s your turn to smirk now, but before you do, you turn those same pleading eyes he weaponized against you right back at him.

“Please, Stevie? I’ll be gentle, I’ll go real slow,” you say, fluttering your eyelashes up at him.

He presses his palms into his eyes, losing the fight for control going on in his head.

“…Fuck, just please be careful, no funny business, yeah?” he sighs out, looking down at you.

You let on that smirk now, and finish kissing your way down his body, laying on your stomach. Your tongue just barely teases the tip, a small kitten lick that grants you a drop of precum. He tenses at the feeling, sheer pleasure already making him regret his own weakness toward you. It’s all he can do not to blow his load at just the idea of what’s going on right now.

Gently, you place a hand beneath his dick, feeling the weight of it, your mouth watering. You wrap your fingers around it, careful not to use too much pressure. You look him in the eye as you pull just the head into your mouth, moaning around him.

“You’re gonna kill me, holy shit,” Steve says.

You giggle a bit, moving your mouth up and down just a bit, cautious of any sudden movements that might prove too overwhelming.

“Feels too good baby, won’t be able to keep going like this,” he pants, sensitive and whining.

You pull off of him with a soft pop. “Compromise, then?”

He’s not sure what you mean until-

“Jesus fucking Christ baby, holy shit, shit, shit!” Steve is fighting for his life at the sight of you softly stroking his cock with one of his balls pulled securely into your mouth.

You can tell by that reaction and by the purely distraught look on his face that he won’t let you stay down here for much longer, so you make the most of it.

You suck gently, continuing to stroke. You switch to the other side, but not without licking a fat stripe from his base to his tip, earning a strangled noise of pleasure.

“God, you’re cruel,” he whimpers out, unable to contain his own soft moans and sighs as you work.

Steve feels himself getting a little closer than he’d like. “Alright, that’s enough of that for you, missy,” he says as he pulls away from your touch, laughing at the noise of protest you make as he does.

“Don’t worry darlin’, just lay back for me,” he says, walking over to the jeans he had discarded earlier.

You do as he says with only a slight grumble, but can’t help yourself as you watch Steve walk. Even his ass is pretty, you think as you watch him bend over and pull out his wallet, plucking a foil packet from its confines.

He turns around then, and you’ve been caught staring.

Steve smirks when you rush to meet his eyes, feigning nonchalance. “Perv,” he teases before getting back into the bed with you.

You’d protest, but then his hands, those hands, are working deftly to unwrap a condom and roll it on, and suddenly you find yourself entirely uninterested in your status as a pervert.

He crawls back on top of you, moving to kiss you softly, a sharp contrast to the intensity of the moments you two just shared.

He breaks it only to say three words: “I love you.”

Forehead pressed into his, you know you should be shocked, but you aren’t. It feels right. You tell him, too.

“I love you, Steve.”

He smiles at you dopily, and you’re sure a matching smile adorns your face.

“Are you ready, baby?” He asks, interlocking one of his hands with yours, nothing but adoration and loving concern in his eyes.

You nod. “I want this, I want you,” you tell him honestly.

Steve presses one last sweet kiss to your lips, selfishly savoring the taste of them for just a little too long. He breaks it with a sigh. “I’ll go slow at first, sweetheart. You let me know if you need me to stop.”

You hum in agreement, focus resting between the two of you where he’s got your legs spread, kneeling in between them as he guides his cock to your entrance.

Slowly, almost too slowly, he pushes himself in, both of you groaning in relief when the head is in. He presses forward, meeting little resistance from your slippery heat. He sighs happily once he’s seated in you fully, just enjoying being enveloped in your warmth.

He probably would have stayed there if it wasn’t for the wiggle of your hips and the sudden clench he felt from inside of you.

“You can move, Stevie. Need it,” you sigh.

He takes the instruction, and both of you are wrecked as he works into a rhythm.

Your eyes flutter shut as you moan, but that won’t do for Steve.

“Nuh uh,” he says, dropping the hand he’s holding and getting down, shifting his weight to his elbows so he can hold your face in his hands. “Eyes on me. I don’t want to miss a thing.” His tone urges your compliance, so you give it to him, looking into his eyes.

Fuck.

The way your eyes bore into each others is nearly too much, the feeling of his hands splayed across your cheeks, your jaw, your temple… your senses are being flooded, and all your brain can compute is Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve.

He can see every reaction you give him, every hitch of your breath, adjusting until he’s in the perfect position for you, the squeezes of your fluttering cunt driving him wild.

You’re helpless, being held captive by your own pleasure, and Steve is only adding to it, talking to you in ramblings of his own pleasure.

“God, you know what you’re fucking doing to me?”

“Feels so good, sweet girl. Never wanna fuck another pussy again, only yours.”

“That’s it, baby, take it, take it. Doing so well for me, my gorgeous girl.”

“You like that? That feel good? Oh, I bet it does, huh?”

“Taking me like a champ, always knew you’d be good for me.”

You want to respond, you really do, but the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s pounding into you just right, the way he’s looking you right in your eyes as he speaks this utter filth, has left you wordless, only moaning and whining out little ah, ah, ah, fuck’s that only spur him on.

You feel your undoing start to form and begin to reach down, needing some attention on your clit to cross there.

“Don’t do that baby, let me. You close?” he says as he shifts all of his weight now to the one elbow, keeping your face in that hand as the other snakes down to rub circles just where you need them, making you whimper, fighting to keep your eyes open.

You nod at his question. “So close… gonna make me cum again, Stevie,” you manage to get out, snaking your arms around his neck, clinging to him desperately.

His eyes never leave yours. “Tell me what you need. Wanna feel you when you cum, feel you soak my cock.”

“F-faster.”

You barely get the word out before he starts to nearly double his speed, desperate to get you there, sharp, shallow, fast thrusts leaving you to just wail.

“Oh, fuck, Steve, please, please, fuck, please,” you ramble out, unsure what you’re begging for.

“C’mon, give it to me, you’re right there, cum for me.”

The perfect circles on your clit, the pistoning of his hips, the way he stares at you so intensely, egging you on? It all proves to be too much, and you feel yourself thrown off that cliff and into pure, sweet pleasure as your release rolls through you, Steve’s name on your tongue.

Steve cants into you desperately, rhythm breaking as he chases his own high, which is coming on much faster largely because of you. Feeling you grip him like a vice, and having watched just how angelic you look when you cum? He wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer.

Overstimulated and desperate, you start to egg him on the same way he had egged you on.

“Please, cum, Steve, I wanna feel it. Need to feel you finish so bad, feels too good, please, baby,” you breathe out. “Do it just for me, yeah?”

That’s a wrap for Steve. His thrusts grow lazy as you feel him twitch inside you, condom filling quickly with his load. He keeps thrusting until it hurts, only then settling down, pressing his forehead into yours, kissing all over your face gently as you both bask in the afterglow.

“You’re so perfect,” he mutters, his desperation for you to hear him, believe him, making his expression look almost pained as he squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s always gonna be you for me, you know that?”

You’re unsure how to respond, really. You find yourself so wrapped up in a warm, buzzy feeling, your adoration for him leaking all over your brain’s wiring, causing it to short circuit. So all you do is nod and close the distance between your mouths, giving him a kiss so gentle and loving that catches him in the moment. He wishes he could stay like this forever.

You both fight to end the kiss several times, but each time either of you pulls back even a little bit, you find yourselves pressing right back in for just one more.

When it finally does break, you look up at him and see the man you always knew, deep down, was here to stay. Your Steve.

“Thank you.”

He cocks his head. “You’re welcome, but what for?” Ever the gentleman.

“Just for being you.”

The two of you lay on your couch, Pretty in Pink over and quickly exchanged for When Harry Met Sally, an appropriately raunchy film for present company and previous activities.

You called out of work for the next day shortly after the two of you finally peeled out of bed. Steve had wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing soft encouraging kisses into your neck, your back, your shoulder as you rang your boss. You didn’t care if they thought you were only calling out because you were embarrassed; you know the truth doesn’t matter to these people, so you won’t waste it on them. All you want to do tomorrow is spend the day with your boyfriend, so you decided that that is what you’re going to do.

So there the you are, curled up in Steve’s arms for the foreseeable future, lips occasionally pressing into his wrists and hands as you held them. He hadn’t bothered with putting his shirt back on, and you let your robe sit where the two of you had ditched it earlier in favor of the warmth radiating from the chest against your back.

Sally fakes her orgasm in the diner, earning a laugh from both of you.

“I’m sure glad that I don’t ever have to question if you actually came,” Steve mutters, prompting you to tease.

“About that…”

“Bullshit!”

You giggle as his arms squeeze you in tighter, his lips attacking the side of your face and neck.

“Alright, alright, I yield, I yield! You are a true man in a sea of boys, you had me coming like a freight train, you win!”

His attack softens, smiley kisses becoming more intentional. He doesn’t let go of his now-tightened hold on you, though. He just likes having you close too much.

Steve mutters into your ear, shaking you gently in his arms to make his point. “I meant what I said earlier, you know. It wasn’t in the heat of the moment, I do love you.”

Somehow you find yourself far more flustered when he says that to you with his clothes on, but you know you feel the same.

“And I love you, Steve. Thank you for everything you did for me today… and I do mean everything,” you say, only a bit cheeky.

He nips at your ear, but still says, “Anytime, pretty girl. Anytime.”

You turn just a bit, hands tracing over his bruised knuckle and face, worry forming behind your eyes, just a small frown playing at your lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try to cover those up for you? A quick run to the pharmacy and I’m sure I could find what I need to color correct,” you muse, but Steve just shakes his head.

“Nah, I kinda dig them. Makes me look a little badass! If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them they should see the other guy,” he pauses, but then says, quietly, “Plus, it’s pretty much like a shining badge of having defended your honor. Why would I ever cover that?” There’s a teasing tone behind his words but you can tell he really means it.

“Alright. You’re sweet. But please defend my honor without fists next time, I don’t want to have to look Hopper in the eye when I bail you out.”

“No promises, sweetheart,” he says, mischievous. You can hear his grin.

You roll your eyes, but you still smile.

You think you could get used to a life like this.

Thank you for reading! 🩵

#mars fics #i’ve never posted creative writing before please be nice or i might combust #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff #hurt/comfort #baby’s first fanfic #robin buckley mentioned

172 notes · View notes

captain-bubble-wrap · 4 months ago

Note

May I have a pregnancy announcement with Quinn? 🥹 Can you make her nervous, please??????

One nervous expentant mother coming up!

This couldn’t be happening right now. There was no way what you were seeing was correct.

For the last month or more you had noticed things that weren’t your normal. You had tried to explain them away as just PMS symptoms, but the nausea was the one thing that was the tell-tale red flag. The mood swings were nothing new, but they hadn’t gone away. Poor Quinn had been walking on eggshells for weeks on end despite having done nothing to warrant your attitude. Everything else just aligned with your cycle paying you a visit, however it never came around. You had been more stressed as of late, and a missed period wasn’t something you experienced often, but enough that you didn’t freak out initially. However, with everything stacking up, you bought a pregnancy test to hopefully clear your mind of any uncertainty.

Now, you stood alone in the bathroom, braced against the vanity while the timer on your phone ticked down to the last remaining seconds, although the test was very clearly completed. The blue plus-sign was the darkest shade of blue on both of the lines that the test could produce. It was a definite positive. With hands over your mouth in glaring realization, you stood there staring at it, trembling. Quinn was just beyond the bathroom door, unaware of the news you now had to give him.

How would he take it?

You weren’t married; you weren’t even engaged, yet here you were, feeling mocked by the pregnancy test sitting there on the counter. You couldn’t hide the fact now and this was no false-positive. You had to tell him. Your fingers were still shaking when you reached for it, nearly dropping it once it was between your fingers. “Shit~” You spat, just under your breath. You needed to get yourself in order or this was going to be so much harder. By this point, you had no idea how long had you been locked in the bathroom; how long did the test take again?

You tiptoed from the bathroom, hoping you’d find him not in the middle of something so you could get it over with as soon as possible, still unsure what his reaction was going to be. He was in the living room, feet up on the ottoman, streaming a Thursday Night Football game. He hadn’t noticed you approach until you squeaked out his name.

“Quinn?”

The first time you said it, he hadn’t heard you. The second time, however, it was more shaky and a touch louder, “Quinn?”

The change in your tone was what pulled his attention away from the broadcast. The look on your face had pulled him to his feet.

"What’s wrong, baby?” His face was drenched in concern and immediate dread. He knew you better than anyone and even he hadn’t seen you like this before. “You look really pale. Why don’t you sit down?”

The test wand was tucked in the palm of your hand and braced against your wrist. When Quinn asked you to sit on the sofa, you did so, but crossed your arms over your stomach, further helping you conceal the test until you were ready to finally break the news. He was looking at you with such worry. For some reason you thought he would be eyeing you with suspicion, but your rational brain knew Quinn wasn’t that way.

He’d sit right next to you, both of you turned towards the other slightly. Your eyes were down, staring at your knees before his hands touched you gently. His soft affection made you jump even though you saw it coming. It was like you were split between two different places.

“Are you alright?” He asked, never dreaming you would have jumped at his touch.

Your heart was beating so quickly, you couldn’t tell if you had said your reply loud enough because all you could hear was the thumping in your ears. “No.”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Still, your eyes were down, unable to look at his worried face. Quinn would actually bend down hoping to catch your gaze. When your eyes met, you began to cry. It was just too hard to keep the amped up emotions inside any longer.

“Oh, baby! Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He reached forward, pulling hair behind you ear; his warm touch grazing your ear. “I’m really worried about you.”

“Quinn, I’m~,” you mumbled, your eyes flipping between both of his for something to focus on. “I’m...”

“Hmm?” Quinn’s tone was sympathetic, soft, and unhurried. He had his emotions reined in while you were running a thousand miles an hour.

“I’m...pregnant.” Immediately, you broke down, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you sobbed.

To say Quinn was shocked would have been an understatement. He wanted to smile, to be excited, but seeing you react like you were stopped his celebration. He’d hold your face with both of his hands and kiss you so passionately.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart! This is incredible!”

You’d sniffle once he parted from your lips. Reaching up to wipe your eyes, you forgot the test was in your hand, and it would drop from your lap to the floor. Quinn would beat you to picking it up and when his eyes saw the positive indicator he grinned. “Oh baby, I love you! Please, don’t cry! I’m so happy!”

Words were still hard for you; you were still sobbing, though you didn’t know why other than your hormones were running without restraint. Instead, you reached for him, and he took you in his arms immediately.

"Baby, baby, baby! It’s okay!” He hushed, one hand on your back, the other smoothing your hair. “Happy tears, okay?”

This made you cry more, buried into his neck as your fingers clawed into his back.

“Shhh, you’re okay. Everything is fine, sweetheart. I want you to be happy...” his voice dropped off, his non-hormonal stressed brain making a very irrational thought appear. “Do you not want to have the baby?”

You pushed back from him, eyes wide and in shock as you searched his face. “Of course I do! I’m just... I don’t know how to feel right now I’m so confused! I’m so sorry!”

He gave you a smile, “You have a lot going on, babe! It’s okay to be all over the place!” Quinn’s fingers tightened ever so slightly. “I love you so much!”

"I love you, too!” You continued to weep, just wanting to smile and share in his happiness. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Absolutely not! Why would I be?”

“Because we weren’t even...we hadn’t talked about this.”

“Everything for a reason, baby,” he smiled wider. “I can’t wait to let mom know. She’s going to go crazy!”

Your face went completely white. Both of your families had to be told, how had you forgotten? You struggled to tell Quinn, how were you going to handle telling two separate families of this news?

“We’ll tell them together, okay?” He added, seeing the immediate change in your expression. “We’ve plenty of time. Right now, all I care about is you and how you’re doing. I know the last month hasn’t been easy, and this explains a lot.”

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so mean to you, Quinn!”

“No, no, don’t cry! I’m alright, so just let that go.” He smiled again. “You’re okay.”

Falling against his chest again, you’d put your chin on his shoulder and whimper. Everything was hitting you at once and all you wanted was a break from feeling like an emotional nutcase. Quinn, on the other hand had taken to rocking you gently.

"Everything it okay, baby. I promise you. I couldn’t be more happy right now! To have a little family with you, I can’t lie, I’ve had daydreams about it. Now, it’s going to happen and I’m so happy!”

"Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll make sure you have everything you need, okay? I’ll go with you to as many appointments as I can and I’ll take care of you every step of the way.”

“Quinny,” you finally smiled. “You’re so sweet.”

“Anything for you and our little baby.”

#💌Maven's Love Notes #🥹🥹🥹 i thought this was a cute ask #i hope it was okay #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

285 notes · View notes

writtenbyan-aries · 4 months ago

Note

hiiii I lit love your sturniolo fics!!! could you do one where reader comes home to their house after a night out and when she’s in the kitchen h Matt comes in to make sure she’s okay?? kinda cute maybe friends to lovers?? but I don’t rllt want smut if that’s ok

Summary: Matt and reader talk in the kitchen after coming home from a night out

Warnings: swearing, slightly drunk!reader, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 2.1K | unedited

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You let out a sigh as you finally seen the familiar door come into view, “Thank god.” You mumble as you dig your keys from your purse.

You look up, not seeing any lights on, so you knew you had to be as quiet as you possibly could.

You slipped your key into the lock, slowly turning it before giving the door a gentle push, popping it open. You step in, and take your key out before closing the door behind you.

As you turn, you bend down, dropping your heels on top of the other guys sneakers and you place your hand on the wall, catching yourself before you fall over.

You press your lips together, bringing hand to your mouth as you stifle back your drunken laughter. You take a second to compose yourself before you carefully make your way up the steps.

You grip the railing, pulling yourself up as you trek your way to the top. It was dark, but you’ve been here many times before, so you know you’re way around the house well.

You step into the kitchen, flicking the light on as you walk by the switches. You quietly hum to yourself as you walk over, reaching up to pull the cupboard doors open.

Your head tilts to the side as your eyes scan over all of the snacks and food sitting on the shelves.

You let out a quiet sigh and turn around, jumping when you see Matt leaning against the doorframe, “Holy shit.” You giggle, “You scared me!”

Matt chuckles, “Didn’t mean to do that, what are you doing?”

“You need a-a bell or something.” You turn around, leaning against the counter to hold yourself up, “I walked from the bar, I used my key.“

Matt shakes his head, “No, I mean like, here. In the kitchen.” You laugh, “Oh, I was hungry. Did I wake you up?” He reaches up, pushing his hood down to run his fingers through his hair, “No. I’ve been up. Knew you were out, wanted to make sure you were good.”

You smile, “Aren’t you a gentleman.”

He furrows his brows, “Are you drunk?”

“I.. may or may not be a little inebriated.” You laugh and he shakes his head with a smirk, “Did you have fun?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Mm, I wouldn’t go that far.” He crosses his arms, “What happened?”

“Can I tell you after I get out of this dress and get something to eat?” You pout and he nods, “What do you want? I’ll make it while you go change.”

You let out a sigh, “I would love a grilled cheese.”

“Coming right up.” Matt smiles as he walks over to the stove, “There’s a basket with your stuff in the spare, or you can take some of mine, whatever works.”

You walk behind him, your hand gently running over his back, “Thank you, Matt.” He nods, shaking his head, “I don’t know how you wear that thing.”

“What? You don’t like it?” You tease as you look down at your dress, and Matt laughs slightly, “I didn’t say that. I just mean it looks kinda uncomfortable.”

“Speak for yourself.” You giggle, “If you ever want to try it on, just ask.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Matt rolls his eyes and reaches back to push you towards the door with a laugh, “Now go change.”

You make your way to the spare, grabbing a pair of shorts from the basket before making your way to Matt’s room. You grab his blue hoodie, taking off your dress before slipping it on over your head.

You make your way back out to the kitchen, walking up behind him. He looks over, doing a double take as he smirks, “Looks good on you.”

“Comfy, too.” You smirk, walking over to get a water from the fridge, “How was your stream tonight?” You ask as you lift yourself onto the counter, “Seemed like it was good.”

“You watched the stream?” Matt glances at you in surprise, “weren’t you at the bar?”

You nod, “I did, okay. So. Wait, do you want the full story, or the short story?” He slides your grilled cheese into the plate and hands it to you, “I got all night, so give me the long story.”

You take the plate, setting it down on your lap, “okay.” You take a bite and give it a second before speaking, “So, Stella picked me up from my house, right? Then we went and got Liza and Taylor. We made it to the first bar, and after maybe one or two drinks, Liza seen her ex with another girl.”

“Luke, right?“ Matt asks as he walks to stand in front of you, “The one she isn’t over?”

You smirk slightly at him remembering stuff you’ve told him before, but little did you know, Matt could listen to you talk about anything forever.

He loved the sound of your voice.

“Right.” You nod, “So after they had an exchange, she ended up going home with him, or wherever to..” you lift your hands to add air quotes, “Fix things.”

“So she left you and the others at the bar?” Matt raises his brows as you nod, “Wow, okay. Then what happened?”

“So that bar was dead and Stella said about going to a new one, the one I walked from and-“ Matt cuts you off, “You know you didn’t have to walk right? I could have came and got you?”

“I know, but I know how tired you get after streaming most nights, so I just didn’t want to disturb you or anything like that.”

Matt shakes his head, “Like I said before, I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to, especially knowing you weren’t home or here and you were also drinking.”

You extend your pink out, “I promise to always call you when I’m out drinking from now on.” He squints and reaches out to interlock his pinky with yours, “I’m going to hold you to it.”

You smile and watch as he slowly pulls his hand away from yours, “So, um. Anyway.” You take another bite of your sandwich, quickly chewing before letting out a sigh, “Stella takes us to this bar and it was better than the last, but then she started doing tequila shots, with a guy from her work I guess, and she ended up leaving with him!”

“Wait, she drove you guys didn’t she?” Matt asks and you nod, “Yep. Took her fuckin’ keys with her.”

He scoffs, “That’s ridiculous.”

You nod, “So then, I’m stuck with Taylor, who didn’t even want to come out in the first place. She barely spoke. So I seen you guys were streaming so I just sat there and watched that.”

He smirks, “I’ve never heard of anyone watching our stream in a bar before.”

“I can’t be your biggest fan if I don’t watch them where ever I am, Matt.” You tease and he laughs, “Wait.” He points, “Were you the one teasing me about my hair sticking up?”

You purse your lips, “No.”

“Y/n!” He laughs, “I should have known.”

You smirk, “Gotta fuck you one way or the other, right?” He laughs, leaning against the counter as he shakes his head, “So what happened with Taylor?”

“Oh right, she went up to get another drink, but after five minutes of her not coming back, I looked and she was gone.”

“Where did she go?” Matt asks and you shrug, “I didn’t know at first. But then on my way here she texted me, saying sorry she left and that she got a ride from her sister.”

“So everyone kinda ruined it in their own ways.” He frowns, “I’m sorry, y/n.” You shrug, “It’s fine, actually, watching your streams and getting drunk is literally so fun.”

“New video idea.” Matt laughs and you point, “Make sure you credit me for the idea.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Well duh, of course you’d get credit, I’d want you to be in it.”

You raise your brows, “Really?”

He nods, “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re like, our best friend, y/n.”

You nod, smiling slightly, “Do you think we’d be friends even if we both weren’t both YouTubers?” Matt nods, “Oh definitely.”

You smile bigger, “that’s good to hear.”

“Do you think so?” He asks and you nod, “A hundred percent.” You look over at him, letting out a sigh, “I don’t think meeting under any other circumstances would change the way I feel about you.”

“And.. just how do you feel about me, y/n?” Matt teases and you slide down off the counter, putting your plate in the sink, “How do you think I feel about you Matt?”

He laughs to himself, “I think you like me just a little bit more than my brothers.”

“Is that so?” You spin around, watching as he nods, “I mean, yeah. It is so.”

You tilt your head, “Let’s just say I did..” you shrug, “Then what?” He shrugs back, “You tell me.” You take a deep breath, “Wouldn’t that affect anything?” He furrows his brows, “Define, anything.”

“Like your videos. The viewers. I seen how people acted when they thought we were together that one time before.”

Matt shrugs, “Honestly, I don’t really care.”

Your eyes grow slightly wider, “about?”

“What you just said, so what if I want to be with you? You make me a hell of a lot more happy than sitting on stream and screaming at Chris, although, that is fun..” he laughs slightly, “I feel like it would just be so much better if we just stop putting our feelings to the side.”

Your heart was racing, the alcohol has fully worn off now.

“Is that what you want to do?” You look up at him and he shrugs, “Only if you do, I mean, I’m perfectly fine being friends, but I can tell you right now, me staring at you when you’re around or thinking about you when you’re not, isn’t going to stop.”

“I can see why people think we’re together.” You laugh slightly, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, “I mean, it would really be nice to finally not have to act like I’m not completely into you when there’s a camera rolling.”

He smirks, “So you admit that you do like me more than a friend?”

You scoff, “Pretty sure you’re the one who admitted it first, Matt.” You smirk, “I’m just agreeing with you.”

He walks over and wraps his arms around you, “We can keep it on the low for a little bit if you want.” You wrap your arms around his waist and you nod, “I mean, I don’t think anything is really changing, you know.”

You look up at him and he smirks, “I can tell you something that’s different.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, eyes bouncing between his lips and eyes, “Show me.” He leans down, gently pressing his lips on yours and you take a deep breath as he pulls away, “I like that.”

He wraps his arms around your head, taking in a deep breath as he kisses your head, “I like you, so much.”

You nod, “I like you, so much, too.”

He pulls you with him, back to his room, and for the next two hours, you guys talked quietly. You never ran out of things to talk about.

It was peaceful. It felt like you two were the only ones awake.

That was until Chris walks into Matt’s room, “Matt, are you-“ he stops, his eyes on you. You and Matt stare back at Chris until he sighs, “About fucking time.”

He turns around, closing the door behind him as he leaves. You and Matt laugh quietly with each other, resuming your conversation.

A little bit later, after a small moment of silence, “I like having these late night conversations with you.” Matt whispers, his hand stroking gently over your hair, “It’s nice.”

You nod, humming quietly against his chest, “Mhm.”

“Are you tired?” He asks with a quiet laugh, “You can go to sleep.”

You shift around, looking up at him, “I just don’t want to miss out on this.” He smirks, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He presses a gently kiss to your forehead, “I don’t have plans tomorrow, so we can do this all day, baby.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

176 notes · View notes

sims3fiend · 2 months ago

Text

S3SettingsSetter New new version New

I have returned from the grave to do another re-rewrite of Sims 3 Settings Setter! Hopefully the last! The main new features are a pattern detection approach, meaning it should work on any version of the game, and a new platform for some function rewrite optimizations I've done (steam only). Also most importantly includes the ability to set the Streaming settings to throttle lots, reducing stutter dramatically and a patch to make lots load on radius instead of view.

A full write-up below, but here's the main features:

Change "variable" settings ingame: This lets you change things that normally require mods but live ingame, letting you tweak things how you want. This includes things like changing bloom levels, light colors, sunlight brightness, weather (so you can have snow in summer), sunrise times, tweaking shadow distances, etc etc. Highly recommend just playing around to see what can be done. These are now correctly mapped so they should all work correctly.

Change "Config" settings (not ingame): This lets you set any config (graphicsrules.sgr) thing you want, including some that aren't in the original files (idr the name). It also lets you have set presets, and means you can (hopefully) more clearly see what settings you've changed. I will slowly (I've said this before lol) manually add Config and Options settings to the live edit, I haven't found an easy automatic way of doing this unfortunately.

Performance tweaks and notifications: Set notifications for hitting memory thresholds, letting you know before an E12 happens. Improve game performance with tweaks to game code. Uhh, maybe other stuff soon idk

Please note, as this is a new rewrite, this is still a beta. There will probably be bugs, the menu may glitch out, etc. Please also note that some settings may effect things in unexpected ways, if you're not sure what a setting does, maybe try it out in a fresh save first. Generally though, everything is correctly mapped and shouldn't have any lasting negative effects on your game.

BaselinePerformance preset (put into Presets folder and load ingame with File -> Presets). This should reduce stuttering while still being light enough that it wont tank laptop players. Use this instead of my GraphicsRules file please! https://simfileshare.net/download/5333998/

Download: http://www.simfileshare.net/download/5333999/

Source: https://github.com/sims3fiend/Sims3SettingsSetter

\/ More details/blog post/How to use \/

How to use

Installing:

Just like before you 'll need an ASI loader. I recommend dxwrapper but if you're using Smooth Patch that comes with one too. You then just plonk it into your The Sims 3\Game\Bin folder like any other .asi mod and run the game.

Using:

Preset insert to open the UI

The menu should open up, if it doesn't, look in your game directory for hook_log.txt and send it to me x. If you don't have one, chances are your asi loader isn't working correctly.

The settings tab only becomes editable once a game has been loaded (might change this later). These are values that can be edited live ingame and should change something even if that thing isn't immediately obvious.

Most have sliders, the min/max/step are determined by the game itself, but you can set them above/below these values by right clicking

This also lets you "Clear Override" AKA remove it from the ini, or "Reset to Default" which resets it it to default :)

When you've got things how you want, go to file -> save to save them. If you want to make a preset out of them, that's in file too x, presets save things like patches, Config and QoL too, so just be careful. When loading a preset you can chose to Overwrite which basically clears your ini, or merge, which adds that preset on top of your current settings.

Everything else should be pretty easy to figure out idk

What's new/blog

New function approach for live edit

I actually properly looked at the code flow and found a neat vtable that had, essentially, what I was dreaming of when I made the version version of this. The function gives the name, min, max, step and address of incoming variable manager controlled settings, which is rly rly good! A much more sane and easy to develop for approach than the manually mapping out address spaces approach I was taking before!

Patterns

I've tried to use patterns for the most part, this means finding the function and trying to write a "pattern" of bytes that matches both main versions of the game (Steam and EA). This can be pretty tricky as you have to be specific enough that you don't get false positives while being loose enough to get both versions. It seems to work on both EA/Steam version (with the exception of the patches), but please let me know if it doesn't.

Patches

NERD ZONE NERD ZONE SKIP THIS PART

These will primarily be direct naked ASM patches to functions, and I'll probably be keeping them exclusive to the steam version of the game unless there's something that's a substantial improvement, as the EA one has been compiled differently so different instructions are used, meaning I'd have to write two patches. You can probably skip using them for now if I'm being honest, I have a bunch in the works but these mostly suck.

Point intersection patch

Essentially this is a hand written naked ASM patch for the point intersection code TS3 uses, this is used for nav meshing IIRC, and was the first proper one of these I did after seeing it in vtuner. Sadly, It's not really going to be noticeable at all, maybe a second faster load on custom maps, as they bulk call it during load. IIRC non-custom ones also call it during sims moving but I could be wrong as I wrote this aaages ago and didn't keep great notes. It has a lot of stuff in it and does achieve a very substantial boost vs the default function as a result, it's just that the function isn't really a cause of lag (though is on the render thread IIRC so..). It achieves the performance boost by I guess nearly fully rewriting it, I added an early exit, use prefetchnta, switched to SIMD, lddqu, shufps, fast paths… idk these are all words that mean nothing to basically everyone reading this including me but I'm quite happy with how it turned out.

Target Framerate

Changes what I can only assume is the games framerate target, it seems to interact w/ the frame buffer. I haven't noticed any noticeable difference but give it a go! This one may desync things in theory but I haven't noticed so 🤷 lol actually this makes animations slow down for some reason so I've removed it oops, need to look into this more.

Lot Visibility

Disables the games check for if a lot is in view, instead it should just load based on the radius around the camera. This is a the patch in Stutter Reducerer so if you're using that you don't need this (just enable Lot Throttling under streaming)

LZ Optimization (not released)

This is basically the point intersection but for the games main package decompression (RefPack) implementation. I… am/was a bit of a dunce with this, for whatever reason my original implementation was focused on large reads using AVX,SSE, etc… Now, the issue is… LZ does small (1-4) byte reads… so… I'm in the process of rewriting it once more. Plan to uroll the functions and do idk like MOVZX I think would be huge, simplifying the flow, etc etc.

The performance gain might actually be somewhat noticeable for this as this function is used in gameplay quite a bit. How you might ask? Well, every single lot that is loaded reads and extracts files for every object in that lot every single time it is loaded, in excess of 40mb/s with that being several hundreds of thousands of calls (some files are very small, and refpack also is byte-by-byte). This is all also done on the render thread, so the game has to wait for this to do its thing (and several other functions) before it renders the next frame. Very good very fun.

Multithreading (maybe eventually)

I've tried but no real luck, I've had some "success" but mostly it's been failures. I do have some interesting things I want to look at, especially related to lot loading so we'll see what the future holds. I think some degree of multithreading for the render thread would be incredibly huge.

Other patches

I have like 10 other ones that are not quite ready yet but should help, hopefully I'll just trickle them out but I think waiting until I can get them working properly is probably dumb.

Coming soon:

Stuff that I'm working on I swear I promise!!! It's coming!

UI QoL - There's a lot wrong with it.

"Options" category support. This is tricky as changing these settings directly writes them to the .ini file in documents for some reason

Several patches

A system for automatic performance tweaks like reducing active lots to 0 when loading, then throttle-loading them back once game has loaded, or automatically reducing settings related to object caps, etc.

More live-edit settings. There's a bunch I want to add it's just annoying. Most are static values though but having to find patterns that find them for both versions is rly annoying. Things like RenderSimLODDistances, FogDistances, the Script category…etc. If you have any requests lmk!

The ini file is kinda ugly garbage horrible to look at

Need to figure out why these have min/max/step like, is there some sort of debug ui I'm missing out on? It seems like there is but idk how to trigger it, gunna be pissed if it's something obvious

#sims 3 #sims 3 mods #ts3 #s3ss #another rambling post #sims3 #had this done ages ago I just kept wanting to add patches #and then they'd break something lmfao

109 notes · View notes

writingjourney · 21 days ago

Text

i just think creatives don't owe you to stay the same, they don't owe you a specific style just because that's what made them "famous". back in 2013 arctic monkeys released AM, an album that was the most rock heavy of theirs yet, taking them from an indie rock band with dirty raw classic indie sounds (suck it and see was already an outlier then) to a super popular rock band that felt sexy and rough and dark.

what did they do with that success? well, they didn't do anything for 5 years, then released a concept album inspired by old sci fi movies that lacked any of those classic rock tunes, that was slow and didn't have any "bangers" like AM had. stylisitcally, alex turner's writing and his voice is very unique, yes, that is the only common thread they had. OH BOY, the reactions were horrible, it did not land well, the aesthetic was different, the songs were so different it might have been a different band and people that joined for AM sounds (ot the old classic style) alllllll hated it (something that happened before, they reinvent their sound with every album, but never as drastically as here) and while i enjoyed the album i will say to this day it is one i have to be in the mood for.

did that harm their careers? no, they released another album four years later that was still very different from AM but definitely more rooted in that slower, newer style and absolutely gorgeous. did it top AM? perhaps not, no, their early work is still more beloved, the AM songs the most streamed, better, depending on who you ask, but it cemented a more mature style and they won't ever go back, i don't think. you can tell alex (and tobias) are creatives at their core and they won't stop creating just because their tastes change and their art evolves. the idea of this consistent branding imo is a very capitalist one, you shouldn't have to create a new band or project every time your style changes, let people come and go.

tldr: what i am saying is – musicians as any creatives sometimes need to be allowed to release divisive things that might upset older fans, things that are right for them at the time, that may lead them to discover where they want to go, that might not be what is expected of them. and this development is often necessary for survival, not just for their creativity but because literal lives depend on it, as the height of the fall is now suddenly a lot bigger. ghost is now 15 years old and not a small occult underground band anymore, it seems natural to experiment with what a more mature ghost could look like. we fight off change, it's very human, it's an uncomfortable dissonance we have to accept, but it comes either way if we want it or not. criticism is good and necessary, don't get me wrong, doesn't mean there is no value to the thing or that people enjoying it are wrong.

#i mean this is just what it is #criticism is fair and necessary!!!! it's needed to grow #i just choose to be positive and enjoy what i get and i LOVE this album no matter what others say as i did with tranqulity base back then #because i don't lose anything by getting new things for my selection #as for am it's actually funny bc the songs from that album they played when i was at the concert had people go crazy!!!! it always settles #give it time i say #long post #i suppose

82 notes · View notes

strwbryien · 7 months ago

Text

｢ ᝰ.ᐟ entry 03: ADDRESSING THE SITUATION⭑.ᐟ ｣

“hey, everyone. this feels... really strange to do on camera, not gonna lie. i’m used to just being a voice behind the screen, but here we are. so, um, i just wanted to address everything that's been going on.”

“i know a lot of you have seen what happened last stream, and i’m sure it was a shock. it definitely wasn’t supposed to go down that way, and i really hope i haven’t let any of you down.”

“streaming has always been something i love, and i hope this doesn’t change how you see me or what we’ve built together. i appreciate all of your support more than you know, and i hope we can keep going strong. thank you for sticking with me through this.”

kayekumi: we love you no matter what! face or no face, you're still the best streamer! ezravish: this doesn’t change anything, we’re here for you always <3 hartz4u: you’re so brave for addressing this head-on, we’re all behind you kumism: you’re beautiful, kumi!! no need to hide! da1suk4e: the real-life kumi is just as amazing as the one we knew! no disappointment at all

"wow... i don’t even know what to say. you guys are seriously the best. i was so nervous about this whole thing, but seeing your reactions just makes me feel so relieved. thank you, really. i don’t deserve you all.”

“it means the world to me that you’re still here, supporting me like this. i was scared i’d lose some of you after everything, but knowing you’ve got my back makes me so happy.”

“i promise i’ll keep doing what i love, and i hope we can keep having fun together—face or no face! you’re all amazing, and i’m so lucky to have you. thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

prev | masterlist | next

synopsis:

IN WHICH—you, although faceless, are a very famous streamer known as KUMI. you were streaming as usual, playing games and interacting with fans. but when you're about to exit the stream, you accidentally pressed the wrong button that led to you opening your cam and showing your whole face to your audience. this wasn't supposed to happen, no ! so you panicked and quickly ended the stream. numerous screenshots circulated on twitter, which broke both the fans and the internet. this reached a certain someone, SCARAMOUCHE, your rival in streaming. when the said boy saw the trending photo, he almost fell off his gaming chair. because—lo and behold! KUMI was actually [name]?! now who is this [name] in his life, if you may ask? she's the girl that scaramouche has been admiring from afar in real life! quite shocking, right? have i told you that he’s also been sending you anonymous love letters? oh well...

notes ᝰ.ᐟ

— i've been gone for so long, i feel so bad ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ — i honestly don't know what i was yapping about in kuni’s letter LMFAO i hope it's at least understandable — ik it's short TT, but i'm currently working on part 4 rn! hopefully, i'll be able to post it soon!

ꪆৎ taglist

(if ur @ is not in bold letters, it means that i can't tag you)

(taglist are unfortunately closed)

@imnotyizhuo @kazufavor @najaemism @simonisferal @lovelypadisarah @eternallykira-143 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @yuminako @035814 @squigglewigglewoo @lxkeeeee @blvdmrcnry @wth121 @lloovvv @3lectraheart @lovemiyae @danhenglovebot @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy @kyon-cherri @lalalaloveallmydays @musings-of-miss-j @ilxandra @lazy-sanns @vixialuvs @bananasquash @kochothehoe @lily-lmao @shutingstar @sketcheeee @minhosprettywife @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @kinanahana @featuredtofu @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @kleeboomed @saechiro @shyentsmissingink @poemzcheng @rifran @projectsfantasy @yejiswifex @peachystea @vi0let-writes @sicuit @hee-jinn @6blxe @viannasthings @trulyylee

#CAMERA FLIP HEART LEAP .ᐟ #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smau #genshin smau #genshin impact au #genshin au #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche au #kunikuzushi x reader

259 notes · View notes

melancholy-of-nadia · 7 days ago

Text

heart on the window #6 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: Job hunting is inevitable as you want to be professionally employed again despite your secret camming side hustle with Jin. however, finally, you reached the final interview for a role you applied to at Netflix! But Jin wants to spontaneously also have a house/apartment party on the same day as well?! what kind of shit will happen as you juggle prepping and going to a big interview that could change your life and a party with friends after that might reveal secrets and have you thinking twice about your old childhood friend / housemate / camming partner? note: surprise again! uploaded this a day earlier since i somehow got time to edit and have this done! s/o to @daegudrama for continuously helping edit this mess of a fic. pls enjoy the climax ;) because its all downhill from here. warnings: HELLO! Another BTS MEMBERS cameo because bts know each other somehow in every universe, many more cameos, mild language, house party, this is the most tame chapter, job interview is a warning bc that triggers ME, yoongi being a lil shit, confessions, secrets revealed, jin is a simp, jealousy, namjoon kinda crushing on reader, drunk arguing, angst, drunk messy makeout, a lot of internal monologuing drop date: May 9th, 3:00pm pst word count: 11.6k crossposted on ao3 here <- chapter 5 | chapter 7 -> - -

Another day of streaming on Chaturbate, you sit perched on the living room couch in a maid outfit that leaves little to the imagination, your stockings tugging high against your thighs as Jin fusses over the setup.

“Hey,” Jin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s standing in front of you now, holding a small ring light in one hand and a cable in the other. “Do you think this angle looks okay? Or should I move it closer to the couch? I’m trying not to make it obvious to people who have been theorizing Big Tuna Man is me.”

You glance up at him, then at the setup he’s been tweaking for the past twenty minutes. The couch is bathed in a soft, flattering glow from the ring light, and the angle seems just right—enough to highlight your outfit without giving away too much of the room’s details. You can’t help but laugh a little at how seriously he’s taking this.

“Jin, it’s fine,” you say, adjusting the frilly headband perched on your head. “If people are that obsessed with figuring out if you’re Big Tuna Man, they’ve got way too much time on their hands. Besides, it’s not like your ‘just chatting’ streams show this much of the living room anyway.”

He frowns, still fiddling with the cable. “Yeah, but you never know. The internet’s full of detectives. One wrong angle, and someone’s going to connect the dots that Streamer Jin is BigTunaMan.” He steps back, tilting his head as he surveys the setup.

“You usually set up a green screen for your gaming streams on the couch, I think you will definitely be fine.” He shrugs in defeat and settles for what he got set up.

You scoot over to make room for him on the couch, and he sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. He smells like his usual mix of citrus and something warm, like vanilla. It’s a scent you’ve grown accustomed to, one that feels like home.

“So,” he says, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I overheard you talking on the phone with your friend earlier?

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, that’s Yunjin. She and another one of my friends want to come over to visit me and have a little get-together of sorts. It’s been very overdue and we’ve been delaying it because they’ve been busy with work.”

Yunjin was supposed to come over months ago when you moved in with Jin for a house warming party, but with her being busy at her corporate job as well, it just never seemed to work out. Same with Wendy.

But it seems like they finally aligned and took this upcoming Friday off.

Jin hums thoughtfully, his fingers drumming a light rhythm against his knee. “A get-together, huh? That’s cute. But…” He trails off, his lips curling into a grin that immediately sets off warning bells in your head that he’s plotting something.

You narrow your eyes at him. “But what?”

“Why not make it bigger?” His grin spreads wider, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light you know all too well. “We could throw an actual party. Like, a real one. I’ll invite my friends, you invite yours. We’ll have drinks, music, food—the works. No cameras, no streams, just a good time.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “A party-party? Since when are you the type to host anything? You’re usually the guest at other people’s parties.”

Jin gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest like you’ve just mortally wounded him. “Hey! I am perfectly capable of hosting a killer party. I just… haven’t had a reason to. Until now.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Right. And where exactly are we going to fit all these people? Your apartment isn’t exactly a mansion, Jin.”

“Details,” he says with a wave of his hand, dismissing your concern. “We’ll make it work. Come on, it’ll be fun! Don’t you think we deserve a night to just… relax? No work, no stress. Just us and our friends having a good time.”

You hesitate, your mind racing with all the reasons this is a terrible idea. It’s not just the logistics of cramming that many people into Jin’s small apartment—it’s the stuff. The things that have become a part of your strange, shared life here. The sex toys, the costumes, the equipment. The things that live in drawers, closets, and sometimes out in the open because you’ve both grown too comfortable to care.

“Jin…” you start, your voice trailing off. “You realize we’d have to… hide everything, right?”

He tilts his head, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” You gesture vaguely around the room. “The… production set up. The costumes. The toys. Unless you want one of your friends stumbling across a vibrator in the kitchen or tripping over your favorite handcuffs in the living room.”

Jin bursts out laughing, doubling over as he clutches his stomach. “Okay, okay, fair point,” he says between laughs. “We’ll do a full sweep of the apartment before the party. No one’s gonna find anything they shouldn’t.”

You give him a skeptical look. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.” He sits up straight, his expression suddenly earnest. “I think it’d be good for us. To just socialize and be normal for a night here. No personas, no performance. Just you and me and our friends, having fun.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget to argue. He’s right. Things have been so tangled lately, so wrapped up in the strange bubble you’ve created together, that the idea of stepping outside of it—even just for a night—is undeniably appealing.

“Okay,” you say finally, leaning back against the headboard. “But if we’re doing this, you’re helping me clean. And you’re in charge of hiding your stuff.”

“Deal,” he says with a wink. “This is gonna be great, princess. You’ll see.” He laughs, the sound rich and warm, and it makes something in your chest tighten from the way he refers to you.

And as much as you hate to admit it, a part of you hopes he’s right.

“Gee, I hope so,” you deadpan, but you’re smiling. It’s easy to smile around him. Too easy.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled with words. You watch as he fiddles with the settings on his camera, his brow furrowed in concentration. It’s moments like these that make you wonder if he feels it too—this unspoken thing between you. The way your eyes linger a little too long when he’s not looking. The way he always finds an excuse to touch you, even if it’s just a casual brush of his hand against yours. The way the air seems to shift whenever you’re alone together, charged with something you can’t quite name.

But neither of you says anything. Not yet.

“Alright,” Jin says finally, breaking the silence. “You ready?”

“Always.”

Of course, the universe has an odd sense of humor. The one day you’re frantically juggling last-minute party preparations—decorations, confirming guests that will be there, and a “menu” that still isn’t finalized—is also the day of your final-round interview at Netflix. Not just any interview, but for a Consumer Content Insights Analyst role. You’d been dreaming about this opportunity for the last two weeks, and somehow, against all odds, you’d made it this far.

You’ve made it to a couple of final rounds for other roles, so you’re telling yourself not to get your hopes all up, but to give it your best.

As you step into one of Netflix’s sleek, glass-walled buildings that late Friday morning, you can’t help but feel like a lost deer wandering into a forest of overachievers. The moment you step into the towering glass building, you feel like an imposter. The Netflix logo looms over the lobby, and the swarm of well-dressed employees moving with purpose only amplifies the pit in your stomach. You’re not supposed to be here. This is Netflix—Netflix. It feels too big, too surreal, too out of reach. The irony isn’t lost on you—your current odd way of life with Seokjin and your borderline-obsessive love for Netflix’s romcoms have collided in the most absurd way. Shows like Never Have I Ever, The Kissing Booth, and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before weren’t just guilty pleasures, but your comfort zone, your escape, and apparently, your secret weapon.

During the earlier rounds, you’d managed to strike a balance between professionalism and fangirling, especially with the Talent Acquisition lead. She seemed to appreciate your genuine passion for Netflix’s content, paired with the analytical chops you’d honed at your last job. It’s a miracle you made it this far, but here you are, standing in the lobby, clutching your portfolio and trying to remember if you’d actually brushed your hair this morning.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is it—the final hurdle. Whether it was your love for romcoms, your ability to geek out over data trends, or just sheer dumb luck, you’d earned this shot. Now, all you had to do was not screw it up.

But somehow, by some miracle, you’ve made it this far.

You smooth down the fabric of your blazer, clutching your portfolio just a little tighter as the receptionist checks you in. Your reflection stares back at you from the polished elevator doors, and for a second, you barely recognize yourself. You’ve spent months streaming in lace and silk, whispering sinful things into Jin’s mic. And now, here you are, dressed in corporate chic, about to pitch why you belong in a boardroom instead of on a not-safe-for-work streaming website.

The universe is funny like that.

By the time you’re escorted to the conference room, your nerves are a tangled mess. You pass by walls adorned with larger-than-life posters of their biggest hits—Stranger Things, Bridgerton, Wednesday, and, of course, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. It almost feels like a taunt. Your ridiculous love for Netflix romcoms might actually be the thing that gets you this job.

Inside, four panelists sit across from an empty chair, their smiles polite but unreadable. You recognize one of them immediately—Gia Kim, the woman who would be your direct manager if you get the job. You’ve done your research on her. She’s sharp, a powerhouse in consumer insights, and someone you know you could learn a lot from.

“Welcome,” Gia says, gesturing for you to sit. Her voice is even, professional, but there’s a warmth to it that helps you breathe a little easier. “We’re excited to chat with you today.”

You settle into your seat, offering a polite, rehearsed smile. “Thank you for having me. I’m really excited to be here.”

The first half of the interview goes as expected—questions about your experience, projects you’ve led, data you’ve analyzed, strategies you’ve developed. You navigate them smoothly, pulling from your previous job, highlighting how you’ve understood consumer behaviors, engagement trends, and audience retention analytics. The other panelists nod approvingly, jotting down notes, occasionally exchanging glances with one another.

Then, Gia leans forward slightly, setting her pen down. There’s a shift in the air, like she’s about to ask something different and out of the ordinary.

“One last question,” she says, resting her chin on her hand. “In this role, you’ll be helping us understand why people connect so deeply with certain stories, why certain characters or narratives resonate across different cultures. In your opinion, what makes a story unforgettable?”

The question hits you in a place you weren’t expecting.

Your mind floods with images of living with Jin these past couple of months. His laugh, his voice murmuring in your ear, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. The slow, dangerous unraveling between you, the blurred lines, the quiet moments off-camera that feels like it means more but just not addressing it.

What makes a story unforgettable?

You take a slow breath, collecting your thoughts before you speak.

“I think the most unforgettable stories,” you begin, your voice steady but thoughtful, “are the ones that reflect something deeply human back at us. The ones that make us feel seen, even in ways we don’t fully understand.”

Gia watches you intently, nodding for you to continue.

“Whether it’s a coming-of-age romance or a dark psychological drama, the best stories don’t just entertain—they expose us. They show us our own fears, our desires, our contradictions. They remind us of what we’ve lost, what we still want, and maybe, if we’re lucky, what we didn’t realize we needed.”

You swallow, feeling your chest tighten slightly. “It’s not just about the plot or the characters. It’s about the way a story lingers. The way it makes you think about someone days later, even when you don’t mean to. It’s the way it changes how you see yourself, or how you see someone else.”

There’s a silence. A pause.

Oh shit… did you fuck up with that philosophical ass response?! You look at each of the panelists waiting for a response, which ends up coming from Gia. Fuck. This may not end well after all– “That was… beautifully said.” Oh? Uh, you’re not sure if that’s sarcasm or genuine, because you can’t honestly tell after many amazing interviews that end up with a rejection days or even hours later. But fuck it! You tried, and if they don’t want you, then you’ll keep trying. Either applying to another role at this company or elsewhere. You recall a memory of Seokjin teaching you how to make pajeon, being afraid of flinging the pajeon once you try to flip the pan to cook it. “If you fling it, then you fling it. You can always clean up and try again.”

You smile, remembering that moment and the response you gave to their question.

The panelists exchange another glance, and for the first time all morning, you let yourself think—whatever happens, happens.

After coming home from your interview and running errands, you immediately notice two things upon opening the door: the living room looks completely different, and Seokjin is standing there in nothing but a white t-shirt and a pair of ridiculously short shorts that show off his toned, golden legs.

He appears from around the corner, a bright grin on his face. “Hey! You’re back! How did it go?”

You blink, momentarily distracted by the absolute scam that is his genetics, before shaking yourself back to reality. “Oh, uh, I think it went well? But I honestly don’t want to get my hopes up.”

Jin waves a dismissive hand, walking closer with an easy confidence that somehow makes his whole outfit look even more intentional. “Nah, I’m sure you got this! I overheard you talking excitedly with the recruiter a few weeks ago, so I do think you have a high chance.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you set your bag down by the door. “Thanks for inflating my ego.”

“You’re welcome,” he quips, placing a hand on his hip. “I inflate mine all the time, and that’s how I got here.”

You burst into laughter, the stress from earlier melting just slightly. Typical Jin.

Stepping further into the living room, you finally take in the sheer effort that’s gone into setting up for tonight’s party. The couch has been pushed back to make room, streamers are partially hung along the walls, and the coffee table has been swapped out for a makeshift drink station, complete with bottles of soju, whiskey, and a ridiculous amount of mixers. The chairs from the dining table are missing—probably relocated to hold the obscene amount of food you assume Jin ordered.

And then, hunched on the floor with an expression of pure suffering, is a familiar figure.

Yoongi.

Jin’s longtime best friend, the guy who essentially convinced him to start streaming (games and porn) in the first place, and someone who, by all accounts, prefers the company of his music studio over people. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him. This is probably the fifth time you’re seeing him in person compared to any of his other friends. He doesn’t even bother to look up as he speaks.

“Hi. Nice to see you again after so long. My back is fucking killing me thanks to Seokjin making me from sit and hunch over to make this shit,” he deadpans, still threading a streamer through his fingers.

How lovely. Such a contrast from Jin, yet somewhat similar.

You blink, glancing at the pile of tangled decorations in front of him. “Uh, well, hi.”

Jin chuckles from behind you, clearly unbothered. “Yoongi’s not exactly a party planner, but he’s suffering through this for us. Isn’t that nice?”

Yoongi scoffs. “I actually am, and also I’m here because you bribed me with the promise of good food and free drinks.”

“Well, you are getting free drinks,” Jin points out, arms crossed. “That has to count for something.”

Yoongi finally looks up at you, his sharp eyes assessing. “Surprised your infamous roommate is still here, Jin. Do you know he talks about you way too much.”

You arch a brow. “Oh? And what exactly does he say?”

Jin clears his throat loudly, throwing a warning glance at Yoongi, who just smirks. “Nothing too incriminating, but just a lot about the sex you two are hav–.”

“Alright, alright,” you say, waving a hand. “Yoongi, if your back hurts, you could sit on the dining chairs—”

“He moved them,” Yoongi interrupts flatly, tilting his head toward Jin. “To put all the food and alcohol on the table. He’s also going to set up a beer pong table later.”

You sigh. “Never mind.”

With a shake of your head, you step toward the hallway leading to your room. “I’m gonna go change out of this stuffy blazer and then I’ll come help you guys. Sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” Jin calls after you. “But don’t take too long. I need you to approve my outfit choice.”

You pause mid-step, glancing back over your shoulder. “Why do I need to approve it?”

Jin grins. “Because you have good taste, obviously.” “Well, it’s not giving ‘party’ vibes to me, it’s giving ‘run club’.” Jin rolls his eyes and scoffs. Yoongi groans, already regretting being here. “God, just go change before he starts monologuing about how hot he looks.”

Laughing, you disappear into your room, already feeling lighter than you did when you first walked in. Twenty minutes later, you emerge from your room, freshly transformed. Your light green Solid Ruffle Knotted Rib Crop Tank Top hugs your frame just right, the delicate fabric subtly highlighting your curves, while your medium-wash flare jeans flare out at the perfect moment, accentuating your silhouette. A pair of star-shaped hairpins glint on either side of your hair, adding a playful touch to the look.

Yoongi and Seokjin—now dressed in a University of Michigan crewneck and khaki pants, respectively—are lounging in the living room when you step in. The moment they see you, their conversation trails off, and their eyes widen slightly. You pause, giving them a slow twirl, the fabric of your jeans swishing softly as you turn.

“Well?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Thoughts?” For a moment, they’re silent, their expressions caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up, while Seokjin’s mouth opens slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but no words come out. They just stare, dumbfounded, and you can’t help but laugh at their reaction.

“That good, huh?” you say, breaking the silence as you smooth out your top, secretly pleased with their stunned silence. Jin is the first to snap out of it, blinking rapidly as if rebooting his entire system. “H-Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. His eyes flicker over you, taking in the way the snug fabric of your crop top clings to your curves, the way your jeans sit perfectly on your waist, emphasizing all the right places.

Yoongi, ever the composed one, simply lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “I already know tonight’s gonna be a fucking headache.”

You smirk, placing a hand on your hip. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jin clears his throat, finally finding his voice. “I mean—yeah, obviously. You look… wow. Really good.” He gestures vaguely at your outfit. “Like, uh. Yeah.”

“Like, uh. Yeah?” you repeat, teasing. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, standing up from his spot on the floor and brushing imaginary dust off his sweats. “You know you look good. Don’t make him suffer.”

Jin scowls. “Shut up, dude.”

You laugh, reaching over to adjust one of your star hairpins. “Alright, enough staring. What’s left to do before people get here?”

Jin, still looking slightly dazed, snaps back into party-host mode. “Uh, we still need to get the speakers from Yoongi’s car, set up the drink station properly, and—oh! We need ice. Lots of ice.”

You nod, rolling up your sleeves (metaphorically, since you’re sleeveless, but still). “Alright. I’ll help grab the speakers. Give me the keys.” You motion towards Yoongi, who shuffles for them in his jeans’ pockets and hands them to you. “It’s parked in the guest spot by the gate. Don’t you dare drop those speakers, okay?”

“Got it, will be right back.”

You go out the door and leave it slightly ajar so you can come back in easily. The two men are working on their tasks in silence until they realize you’re at a far enough range where you won’t hear what is being said inside. Yoongi looks at Seokjin, who’s hunched over the cooler, shoveling ice inside a little too aggressively. The tips of Jin’s ears are still tinged red.

“So you two aren’t dating yet?” Yoongi asks casually, as if he’s commenting on the weather.

Jin nearly drops an entire bag of ice onto the floor. “Goddamn it, Yoongi…what are you on about now?”

Yoongi leans against the counter, expression unreadable as he watches Jin fumble to compose himself. “Well, considering how you’ve clearly gotten real close in the past few months, I was just wondering.” He shrugs. “You know, since you were so adamant that she, and I quote, ‘absolutely did not want to live with me and doesn’t like me at all.’”

Jin exhales sharply through his nose, standing up straight and dusting his hands off like that’ll help shake off whatever Yoongi is implying. “She didn’t like me at first,” he argues, though there’s no real conviction behind it.

Yoongi hums, clearly unimpressed. “And now?”

Jin doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he focuses on the ice cooler like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. But Yoongi isn’t stupid. He catches the way Jin’s jaw tightens slightly, the way his fingers still against the rim of the cooler like he’s sorting through thoughts he doesn’t want to say out loud.

Yoongi smirks. Interesting, he thinks.

Yoongi doesn’t let up. He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching Jin with that same unreadable expression.

“So?” he presses. “What’s stopping you now?”

Jin exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice quieter this time. “We’re trying to be adults about this. Keep things professional since we’re roommates and agreed to do camming together.”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “Professional?” He snorts. “Jin, you two are literally fucking on camera for money. The line was crossed the second you got her naked in front of an audience.”

Jin glares. “It’s not just that.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away, letting the silence stretch. Jin feels the weight of his own words settle between them.

“It’s different off-camera,” he continues after a moment, his voice low. “The way we talk. The way we are around each other. It’s… real.”

Yoongi tilts his head slightly. “And that scares you.”

Jin swallows. He doesn’t answer.

Because yeah. It does scare him.

He’s spent months pretending that what happens between you two is just another part of the arrangement. That the way he watches you when you’re not looking, the way he feels a pull in his chest when you laugh at his stupid jokes, the way his body reacts when you’re just there—all of it is just residual chemistry from the streams.

But it’s not.

And the fact that he can’t stop thinking about you, even when the cameras are off, is proof of that.

Yoongi, ever perceptive, sighs like he already knows exactly what’s running through Jin’s head. “You’re an idiot,” he says finally.

Jin scoffs. “Yeah, well. You’re not wrong.”

The conversation dies down for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then Yoongi straightens, glancing toward the front door. “She’s been gone a while. Think she got lost?”

Jin smirks, glad for the change of subject. “Nah, she probably got distracted by some guy’s dog in the parking lot. She does that.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah. You’re so fucked, man.”

Jin doesn’t argue. Because Yoongi is literally so fucking right.

By the time you return with the speakers, the living room has been completely transformed. Jin and Yoongi have finished hanging the last of the streamers, and the drink station is fully stocked with a dangerously large selection of alcohol. The speakers are strategically placed for maximum sound, and the atmosphere has shifted from quiet preparation to something far more electric—anticipation hanging in the air, thick like static before a storm.

As the sun dips lower, casting golden streaks through the windows, the apartment feels alive with energy. The furniture is arranged to make room for dancing—or whatever chaos the night might bring. The drink station is well-stocked, with liquor, mixers, and neatly arranged cups, and the snack table is just begging to be raided. In the corner, you spot Yoongi, who’s now pouring himself a drink, leaning back on one of the chairs like he’s already bracing himself for the mayhem to come.

For a moment, you just stand in the doorway, taking it all in. The apartment looks completely different now—transformed from your shared, quiet sanctuary into a party-ready space. And despite the slight unease fluttering in your chest, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the night ahead.

As if on cue, the first guests begin to trickle in.

Namjoon is the first to arrive, effortlessly cool in a fitted black shirt and jeans, a bottle of whiskey in hand. He gives you a friendly nod when he steps through the door and sets the whiskey on the kitchen counter, greeting Jin with a casual handshake that turns into a hug.

“Looking good, man,” Namjoon says with a grin. “Big night, huh?”

“Yeah, we’re doing it up right,” Jin replies, his voice just a little louder than usual, a bit of that party-host enthusiasm bubbling up in him. The two exchange a few more words, and Jin motions toward you. “Hey, come on over. [Y/N], I’m sure you remember Namjoon.”

Namjoon gives you an easy smile, his presence as warm and reassuring as always. “Hey there, it’s been a while! How’s everything?”

“Good, good,” you reply, trying to keep your voice casual as you glance around the room. “Job hunting, binge watching a show, the usual.”

Namjoon laughs softly, offering a comforting smile. “I get it. Hope it’s going better for you. You’ll land something soon, I’m sure.”

You offer a small smile in return, the familiar reassurance doing a little to calm your nerves. You hope so too.

The door bursts open once more, and Hoseok enters with his exuberance, his energy practically palpable as he greets everyone. He’s always the life of the party, and tonight is no exception. “What’s up, everybody!” he announces, practically vibrating with excitement. He immediately starts giving hugs to everyone in sight, first to Jin, then Namjoon, and then you, pulling you into a bear hug that’s more playful than anything else.

“Hoseok! It’s been some time since I last saw you. Busy with work?” You look at him joyfully after he lets go of the hug.

“I know, right?” he grins, practically bouncing on his feet. “I’ve been living my best life working as a Tour Choreographer, but I had to take a small break to party with you guys. Feels like it’s been forever since I last saw you at the hot pot hang out 2 months ago!”

You laugh, the infectious nature of his enthusiasm working its magic. “Yeah, but you were prepping for Bad Bunny’s tour! You haven’t missed out on much here.”

“But, hey, I’m here now, so the party’s officially started,” Hoseok declares, winking as he turns toward the rest of the room.

The next guests to arrive are Jimin and Taehyung, walking in together. They both carry themselves with an effortless confidence that seems to make the air around them shift. Jimin, with that familiar smirk, immediately catches your attention. He doesn’t say much but his presence is felt all the same. Then there’s Taehyung, with his boxy smile as easygoing as his flirtatious reputation he apparently has on Twitch. Though, most of it is him messing around with Jimin, whatever that means.

“Hey there,” Jimin says, his voice smooth, his smirk more of a playful challenge. “I wanted to see you again so badly, Noona.”

Here we go with the formal, endearing terms to call a girl slightly older than them.

“I…Jimin, just call me by my name! Not noona!” you laugh, feeling the warmth in your cheeks from his constant teasing. “I see you’re still driving people crazy as ever,” You don’t really see Jimin often as he lives across a few cities and doesn’t come over for irl streams, but his flirty attitude is also still the same as Taehyungs’.

Taehyung, ever the playful one, leans over to Jimin, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ever free to hang with us? We’ve been wanting to go out to a fancy omakase dinner, but Seokjin keeps cockblocking.”

You laugh as you glance at Jin, who’s watching with mild amusement. “I fear as long as that man is still around and acting as my supposed manager, it may not be possible,” Jin has warned you about their scandalous behaviors, so it may be best to stay away.

As they settle in, the door opens again, and Jungkook steps in, looking effortlessly cool in a simple black hoodie and sweatpants. You’ve been knowing he’s a big name in streaming, of course, one of the earliest people Jin started collaborating with. This is your fifth time seeing him, the first being when they did Jin’s first IRL stream together at Cheesecake Factory, then the Mario Party and Mario Kart March Madness competition streams they had. Don’t even ask what this means.

Jungkook flashes you a smile that feels both familiar and comforting.

“Hi [Y/N]! I missed you!” Jungkook greets you. “Glad to see you’re still here.”

“Aw, yeah, good to see you again,” you respond, your smile a little warmer this time. You glance at Jin, who’s watching the exchange with a slight smile.

Behind Jungkook, a few more people start trickling in—Mingyu, Yugyeom, Eunwoo, and Jaehyun, all streaming housemates from Jungkook’s crew at their “97z” streamer house. They’re all friendly, and soon enough, the place is buzzing with energy as they greet everyone. It’s a mix of Jin’s college friends and a few of his more recent streamer buddies: Kim Dong-hyun, Lee Yi-kyung, Kian84, Kang Seung Yoon, etc.

From the people that are Jin’s non-streamer friends, you spot a few familiar faces: Moonbyul, Sandeul, Hani, Ken—people from your elementary school days you haven’t seen in ages. You’re genuinely grateful to see them here, especially with the unfamiliar crowd. It feels comforting to have a piece of your past here among the chaos.

Then, just as the place starts to feel like it’s reaching its peak, the door opens again.

It’s Sakura. She’s an old work colleague you’re close to, and as soon as she spots you, she beams and rushes over to greet you. “It’s been so long! I’ve missed you at work.”

You hug her tightly, laughing. “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Glad you made it.” “I’ll be here for a bit as I gotta rest after a tough week!” “No worries! We appreciate you coming by!”

The other familiar faces follow from your core college friend group, Daisy, Joshua, and Vernon, all grinning as they spot you. “We made it!” Vernon announces, clearly ready to dive into the chaos.

And just like that, the apartment is full. Music is playing, drinks are flowing, and the room hums with life. It’s chaotic, loud, and full of strangers you’re just getting to know—and old friends you’ve been craving to catch up with.

You’re beginning to get a little restless as the night progresses, occasionally scanning the room to see if Yunjin and Wendy have arrived yet. They had promised to finally hang out, after all this time, and it felt like everything had fallen into place for tonight—finally, after all the delays, they’d be here.

You chat with your friends and Jin’s friends, exchanging pleasantries and getting to know the people in Jin’s circle, but in the back of your mind, you’re still waiting for the familiar faces that bring a sense of ease with them.

As you linger by the door, you start to wonder if they’re even going to make it.

Just as you’re thinking it, you hear the door creak open once more, and then you see them.

Yunjin steps inside first, her outfit effortlessly chic—she’s wearing a black leather jacket over a flowy white blouse tucked into high-waisted ripped jeans, with combat boots that give her an edge. She’s holding a large gift bag, clearly for you, as she walks in with a wide grin. Behind her, Wendy steps through the door, immediately catching the attention of the room.

Wendy’s fit is on another level—her black crop top is paired with a mini skirt that highlights her toned legs, and she’s wearing thigh-high boots that make her look like she’s walked straight out of an edgy fashion magazine. She has her hair styled in loose waves, and the confidence radiating off her only makes her look even hotter. You can’t help but feel a little grateful that she’s here tonight, if only to make the energy feel more familiar.

Both of them walk toward you almost immediately, and as they approach, your smile brightens. "You two are fashionably late! I’ve missed you guys soooo much," you exclaim, throwing your arms around both of them in a quick embrace.

“Same here!” Yunjin says, pulling back with a smile. “Sorry we’re late, work’s been crazy as an assistant to the creative director at my company. But we’re here now, and we’ve got gifts!” She hands you the large gift bag, and you take it with an appreciative grin.

“Thanks! You really didn’t have to,” you say as you look inside the bag to find a beautiful necklace and the moomin keychain plushie Yunjin promised to give you so long ago. Finally made its’ way to you.

“You deserve it,” Wendy chimes in, offering you a playful wink. “Also, I’m glad we’re finally doing something fun. It’s been way too long.”

As you continue chatting, you’re interrupted by a small group that gathers around you, eager to greet the two women. Daisy, Joshua, and Vernon, of course, immediately move in to say hi, pulling them into the fold of casual banter. You step back, watching them for a second, a soft smile tugging at your lips. It feels good to have all your friends under one roof.

Then, Yunjin glances across the room, narrowing her eyes as she scans the area. "Where’s your lovely roommate who’s been looking after you?" she asks, voice teasing but still holding a note of curiosity.

Without missing a beat, you point across the room, where you can see Jin chatting animatedly with a few of his gamer friends by the glass doors that lead to the balcony. “Oh, he’s over there, talking to a few of his streaming friends,” you say, feeling the conversation shift slightly in your stomach.

“Woah, he streams? Like on Twitch? Is he big on there?”

“He’s pretty up there! It’s this new hobby he started not so long ago.”

“That’s so cool!”

While Yunjin’s interest peaks in hearing about Jin’s side hustle, Wendy’s eyes widen when she sees him, and for just a moment, you see something in her expression shift—surprise, maybe even a little discomfort, though it’s quickly masked. She doesn’t say anything, but then you catch the look she shares with Yunjin, who suddenly gets very quiet.

You quickly try to push the awkwardness away. “Hey, go on, mingle, get some food, drinks, whatever. I’ll be over in a second,” you tell them, trying to distract yourself and them. You’re not sure why the change in energy unsettles you.

The two women nod, heading off toward the snack table, and you turn your attention to the next task at hand—making sure everything goes smoothly for the night.

But just as you’re walking toward the kitchen, you’re suddenly pulled back by a hand on your arm. It’s Yoongi.

“Hey, Yoongi. What’s up?” you ask, turning to face him.

He looks around cautiously, making sure no one’s nearby, and pulls you just far enough away so you’re out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice low. “I’m not the type to get into drama, but I’m curious. Why did you invite her?”

You frown, a little confused at what he’s even referring to. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Yoongi gestures vaguely in Wendy’s direction, where she’s now talking to Jin, her head tilted as she laughs at something he said. “That’s… his ex girlfriend,” he mutters, clearly unsettled by it.

Your stomach drops. “What?” you whisper, at a total loss for words.

“You didn’t know?” Yoongi’s voice is almost incredulous, like it’s impossible that you wouldn’t have known.

“No! I—I didn’t know,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low. “Wendy and Jin…they were together?”

Yoongi’s lips press together in a tight line. “Yeah. They were. A while ago, but... still.” He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “But hold on, you really didn’t know? This is fucking insane…”

You shake your head, your stomach twisting into knots. No, you hadn’t known. Not a clue. You’d known Wendy since your sophomore year of college, meeting her in an accounting class of all places. She’d been your friend ever since—reliable, kind, and always there when you needed her. But relationships? That was never something she flaunted. And with the way Instagram’s algorithm worked these last few years, you’d missed any subtle hints she might have dropped.

“No, I didn’t,” you mutter, your voice steady but laced with defensiveness. “I’m not exactly the type to stalk people’s love lives, especially on social media. I’ve been too busy worrying about my own shit, so… sorry.”

Yoongi’s face softens, realizing he’s been a little too harsh. “Sorry. It’s just… Jin was kind of broken up about it. He did like her, but they ended things because they just weren’t working out. Wendy wasn’t happy. Stuff like sex wasn’t really fulfilling for her, she wanted to be with him more, but he was always working. He loves his job at Riot so it was always his priority. And eventually, they grew apart. It wasn’t messy, though. They both agreed it was for the best.” He pauses, searching for the right words. “She was still important to him, and it kinda killed his confidence for a while.”

You feel your chest tighten. Wendy was his ex. Wendy was that ex he mentioned. The ex that he learned about more sexual stuff with.

“Jin finally moved on after starting his Twitch streaming hustle, but you know, shit always stays like that in your heart somewhere,” Yoongi continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’ll stop pushing. I just wanted to make sure you knew before you…” He trails off, looking back over his shoulder toward the crowd, where Wendy is laughing with Jin.

You let out a long sigh, the weight of it all settling in. The complicated side of Jin that you didn’t know about, and this now tangled web between your friendship with Wendy and what you’ve shared with him.

“What are you implying?” you whisper, barely audible.

Yoongi looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours, trying to convey something without saying it outright. And then it hits you—he’s not just talking about Jin and Wendy. He’s talking about you. About the late-night streams, the flirty banter, the way you and Jin have been dancing around each other lately. He’s talking about the possibility of feelings—real feelings—creeping in where they shouldn’t.

Your face flushes, and you quickly shake your head, as if trying to physically dispel the thought. No. Absolutely not. Whatever little thoughts you’ve had about Jin were born out of loneliness, boredom, maybe even a touch of curiosity—but that’s it. This thing between you two? It’s just a fun way to make money. A distraction. Nothing more.

You don’t like Jin. You can’t like Jin. Yoongi’s gaze doesn’t waver, his expression serious but tinged with something almost sympathetic. “You know what I’m talking about,” he says, his voice low. “But for the sake of Jin—and out of respect for you—I can’t say it out loud.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. Of course you know what he’s talking about. The late-night streams, the teasing banter, the way Jin’s voice seems to linger in your mind long after the camera turns off. But it’s just work, right? A way to make some extra cash, to fill the void until you land another corporate job. It’s not supposed to mean anything. It can’t mean anything.

Maybe you really need to separate yourself from whatever insane feelings or thoughts have been sprouting in your head over the past few months, you think, gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself. Those good, mind-numbing orgasms? That’s just work. Don’t forget that. It’s transactional. It’s temporary. It’s not real.

But even as you repeat the words to yourself, they feel hollow, like a mantra you’re trying too hard to believe.

“I need some air,” you mutter, more to yourself than to Yoongi. He nods, his expression unreadable, and you slip away from the conversation, weaving through the crowd until you reach the center of the party. The music is louder here, the laughter brighter, but it all feels distant, like you’re watching it through a foggy window.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jin signaling to you, holding up a shot glass with that familiar grin of his. Normally, you’d smile back, maybe even tease him about how many he’s already had. But tonight, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you grab a berry cherry limeade BuzzBall from the table and head straight for the balcony, your heart pounding in your chest.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, and you take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs. You lean against the railing, the city lights stretching out before you, and take a long swig of the BuzzBall. The sweetness is almost too much, but the alcohol buzz spreads almost immediately. This is a distraction, something to focus on besides the mess in your head.

You look out at the stars, at the other apartments across the way. The lights flicker from behind windows, and for a second, it feels like you’re completely alone. In your own space, with no one else’s expectations weighing on you. But even then, you can’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. You try to force it out—tell yourself you’re overthinking, that this is just another night. But the tension still clings to you, wrapping itself around your thoughts. The same dread and confusion you felt with Mingi, but now somehow it feels more twisted. Because you know, deep down, this is different. Jin isn’t like Mingi. Not at all. And that’s what scares you.

You think back to those weeks before when you were drowning in heartbreak after Mingi’s betrayal. You remember how desperate you felt, how everything seemed so out of your control.

Just when you thought you’d moved on from the Mingi cheating disaster, thanks in no small part to Jin helping you forget, here you are again—caught in another complicated web of feelings you never asked for.

Back to square one.

Get a grip.

Before you can spiral any further, the sliding door behind you opens, and you tense, not ready to face anyone. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, but you do anyway. But when Namjoon steps out onto the balcony, his presence is surprisingly calming. He gives you a warm, quiet smile.

“Hey,” he says softly, his deep voice carrying a note of concern. “You okay?”

You let out a humorless laugh, still staring out at the city. “I’m just… grabbing some air. It’s stuffy in there. Do I look not okay?”

Namjoon steps closer, leaning against the railing beside you. “Not really. But I figured I’d ask anyway.”

You glance at him, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos in your head. “I was thinking about how shitty my love life is,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to swear off any potential relationships.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “That bad, huh?”

You shrug, taking another sip of your drink. “Just… tired of the drama. Tired of feeling like I’m always one step away from messing everything up.”

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. “Sometimes it’s not about avoiding the mess. It’s about figuring out what’s worth cleaning up.”

You freeze for a moment, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like. But you quickly shake it off, not ready to unpack that just yet. “Yeah, well, I think I’ve done enough cleaning up for one lifetime.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, and for a moment, the weight on your chest feels a little lighter. But you’re careful not to say too much. Namjoon is sharp—too sharp. If you let your guard down, he’ll figure out exactly what’s going on with you and Jin, and that’s a conversation you’re not ready to have.

Not now. Maybe not ever. "Well, then let me help you. You wanna hang out sometime next week?"

"Huh?"

You blink at Namjoon, caught off guard. "Hang out? Like… just us?"

He shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "Yeah. Why not?"

Your brain short-circuits for a second, still stuck on the conversation you just had—your messy love life, the lingering thoughts of Jin, the complications of everything happening in your life right now. And now Namjoon, with his quiet confidence and perceptive nature, is offering you an out. A distraction.

“I mean, I guess,” you say hesitantly, swirling the drink in your cup. “What’d you have in mind?”

Namjoon smirks slightly, tilting his head in thought. “Dinner? A museum? A bookstore? Maybe something that doesn’t involve people getting wasted off Buzzballs?”

You huff out a laugh. “That might be a nice change of pace.”

“Good,” he says, his voice warm, reassuring. “Then it’s a plan.”

You don’t know why, but there’s something grounding about Namjoon in this moment. Maybe it’s the way he listens, how he doesn’t push, just offers you a space to breathe. You haven’t had that in a while.

But before you can say anything else, the balcony door swings open again, and Jin steps outside.

The air shifts instantly.

Jin’s gaze flickers between the two of you, something unreadable crossing his face before he covers it up with a lazy smirk. “What’s this? You sneaking off with my roommate, Joon?”

Namjoon, completely unfazed, leans against the railing with an easy grin. “She needed air. I’m just keeping her company.”

Jin hums, stepping closer. He’s got a drink in his hand, the condensation dripping down his fingers as he tilts his head at you. His tone is playful, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t take you for a party-escape type, Princess.”

Your grip tightens around your drink at the nickname. You haven’t heard him call you that outside of the streams before. Or even outside this home where only you two live in. You shoot him a look, forcing a smirk. “Didn’t take you for the type to notice when I’m not around.”

Jin’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before he recovers, chuckling under his breath. “Please. I always notice.”

Your breath catches, but before you can process it, Namjoon clears his throat, setting his cup down on the railing. “Well, I should probably get back inside. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

You nod, watching as he heads back in, leaving you alone with Jin.

The silence that follows is thick.

Jin leans back against the railing next to you, staring out at the city. "So. You and Namjoon, huh?"

You scoff. “Don’t start.”

He grins. “What? I’m just curious.”

“No, you’re fishing.”

Jin chuckles, but there’s something behind it—something almost hesitant. He takes a slow sip of his drink before turning to face you fully. “Do you like him?”

You freeze. Of all the questions, you weren’t expecting that.

Your first instinct is to deflect, to make a joke, to push the attention away from whatever this is. But for some reason, the way Jin is looking at you—open, unreadable, waiting—makes your throat go dry.

You swallow. “I don’t know,” you admit, voice softer than you intended. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Jin studies you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he exhales, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Yeah. I guess not.”

But the way he says it doesn’t feel like he believes it.

And neither do you.

Jin’s presence lingers beside you as the two of you step back inside, the warm air of the party wrapping around you like a heavy cloak. The energy in the room is still buzzing—music playing, drinks flowing, laughter echoing from different corners of the apartment. But despite the crowd, your eyes immediately land on them.

Yunjin and Wendy, standing near the kitchen island with Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon all gathered around.

The moment Wendy spots you, her brows furrow slightly. “Where have you been for the last half hour?” she asks, tilting her head, curiosity laced in her tone.

And once again, it feels a bit hard to breathe. A bit hard to look at her.

The weight of Yoongi’s earlier revelation presses down on your chest like a brick. That’s his ex. That’s your friend. She dated Jin. She slept with Jin. She knows what he’s like behind closed doors. She knew before you ever did.

You force a smile, gripping your drink a little tighter. “Just needed some air,” you answer, voice even. “Namjoon came out to check on me just before Jin showed up.”

Jin hums beside you, taking a slow sip of his drink as if the conversation isn’t affecting him at all. But you feel it—the way his body tenses just slightly beside you and his usual playfulness is suddenly more subdued.

Wendy nods, but there’s something unreadable in her expression as she glances between you and Jin. “Well, good timing,” she says, her tone light but observant. “We were just about to take shots. You in?”

A distraction.

You exhale, finally forcing yourself to meet her gaze. The feelings swirling inside of you—confusion, unease, maybe even the smallest hint of bitterness—don’t disappear, but you shove them down.

“Yeah,” you say, lifting your cup. “I could use one.”

Jin watches you for a moment longer before flashing one of his signature grins. “Make it two for me.”

And just like that, the conversation shifts, the moment buried under the burn of alcohol and the chaos of the party. But deep down, the questions remain.

What does Wendy really think about all this?

And why does Jin keep looking at you like that?

The party is in full swing, and the energy has shifted into something livelier. In the middle of the living room, Jin and Namjoon are setting up a beer pong table, arranging the plastic cups in neat triangles at either end, filling them up with cheap beer. Yunjin, Wendy, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Yoongi have gathered around, some leaning against the counters, others lounging on the couch, watching with amused anticipation.

You’re feeling a little looser now, the initial unease from earlier beginning to wear off thanks to the alcohol. And maybe, just maybe, you need something to really push these thoughts out of your head. So when Namjoon asks for volunteers, your hand shoots up without thinking.

“I’m in,” you say, stepping forward.

Jin snorts beside you. “You?”

You shoot him a glare. “Yes, me.”

He raises an eyebrow, arms crossed as he tilts his head at you. “No offense, Y/N, but you’re not a great drinker.” Everyone laughs, which makes you scoff. “Excuse me? I can drink just fine.”

“You get tipsy off one soju bottle.”

“That was one time!”

Jin smirks, clearly enjoying this too much. “Yeah, one time last month. Pretty recent, don’t you think?”

The others chuckle at your expense, and you narrow your eyes at him, determined now. “You know what? You play against me then.”

His grin widens. “Ohhh, so we’re back to our childhood rivalry, huh?”

“You started it.”

“Oh no, you started it by thinking you could win.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can fire back, Namjoon steps up beside you, a relaxed smile on his face. “I’ll be her drinking partner,” he says casually.

Jin’s expression falters for just a second. “What? That’s cheating.”

Namjoon raises his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just here for moral support. Plus, you said she’s a lightweight, right? I’m helping balance it out.”

You grin, nudging Namjoon. “See? Teamwork.” You high-five the tall, buff man.

Jin clicks his tongue, clearly annoyed. “Whatever. I’m still kicking your ass.”

And so the game begins.

—

Though turns out, you’re actually pretty good at beer pong.

You weren’t sure if it was the confidence boost from earlier, the competitive streak inside you, or just pure dumb luck, but shot after shot, you manage to land the ball in Jin’s cups. The crowd hypes you up every time you score, and you can feel Jin getting more and more agitated.

But, of course, Jin is better. Annoyingly so.

Every time you think you’re about to get ahead, he evens the score, sinking shots with ease. He’s in his element—relaxed, confident, smirking every time he throws the ball. And the worst part? He knows how to rile you up.

“Wow,” Jin muses as he lands another shot effortlessly, arms stretching behind his head. “I almost feel bad, you were doing so well in the beginning.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you grumble, grabbing the ping pong ball.

“Too late.”

You narrow your eyes at him, fingers tightening around the ball. Okay. You need to distract him. You need something to throw him off so you’re back to winning.

And then…an idea pops into your head. A very reckless, impulsive idea, thanks to the alcohol.

You shoot Jin an innocent look, twirling the ball between your fingers. “Hey, Jin?”

He hums, not even looking up, too busy lining up his next shot.

“Can you tell me how you know Wendy?”

Jin freezes. His fingers slip ever so slightly, and his shot, which would’ve been perfect, veers off course and misses.

Bullseye.

Yoongi, who’s been watching from the side, lets out a sharp breath and shakes his head. He is definitely regretting ever telling you about his ex earlier.

Jin blinks at you, caught off guard. His face doesn’t immediately betray any emotions, but you can tell he’s scrambling to figure out why you’d ask. You see the way his brain works behind his eyes, piecing together the fact that you know.

Wendy, who had been sipping her drink and conversing with Hoseok, suddenly stiffens at the mention of her name. She glances at you, then at Jin, her expression unreadable.

Jin clears his throat. “We went out,” he admits, tone steady. “And we ended thing mutually, so I guess we’re just friends now.”

He turns slightly, nodding toward Wendy, silently asking for confirmation.

She meets his gaze and nods back, a small, tight smile on her lips. “Yeah. Just friends.”

There’s a beat of silence. You don’t know why, but it feels heavier than it should be.

Jin shifts his attention back to you. “Didn’t know you two were acquainted too.”

You lick your lips, feeling something weird settle in your stomach. “Yeah. Wendy and I have been friends for years.”

Jin watches you carefully, his fingers gripping the ping-pong ball just a little tighter before he tosses it in the air and catches it again. There’s something unreadable in his expression—like he’s waiting for you to slip, to give yourself away.

“I don’t know how you found out,” he says casually, rolling the ball between his fingers. “Is the fact that I dated one of your friends bothering you?”

He shoots his shot. The ball arcs smoothly through the air, landing perfectly in your cup. Of course, it does.

You pick up the ball and twirl it between your fingers, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. “Of course not,” you say simply, aiming for your next throw. “Why would it?”

Jin tilts his head, smirking like he doesn’t quite believe you. “No reason. Just thought you might have opinions on it.”

Your grip tightens slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you launch the ball toward his cup. It bounces once, then sinks inside.

You meet his gaze, holding it. “It’s your life, Jin. Your past. Not mine. And not up to me to judge you on that.”

He stares at you for a beat too long, then chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “Right,” he mutters, lifting his drink and taking a slow sip. “Not yours.”

But the way he says it makes something twist in your stomach.

And from the sidelines, Yoongi lets out a quiet sigh, shaking his head like he’s already regretting ever opening his mouth.

Your fingers tighten around the plastic cup, the cold condensation pressing against your palm as you try to make sense of what you’re feeling. The truth is… you don’t know.

Sleeping with your friend’s ex-boyfriend? That alone should have you feeling guilty. But then there’s the fact that Jin isn’t just some guy—he’s your long-time childhood rival, the person who’s been tangled up in your life in ways no one else ever has. He’s always been there, challenging you, frustrating you, pushing you to your limits. And now? Now you’re living together, sleeping together, making money off your bodies while pretending none of it means anything.

It shouldn’t mean anything.

But standing here, playing this stupid game with him, feeling his eyes on you like he’s waiting for something—some kind of reaction—it all suddenly feels very real. Too real.

The alcohol is starting to work its way into Jin’s system, loosening the sharp edges of his usual self-control. He walks toward you, his gaze darkening with something unreadable. And then, just as you’re about to take your next shot, he whispers it.

"Are you jealous?"

Your fingers slip, and the ball veers off course, bouncing off the rim.

Shit.

The surrounding group erupts in laughter at your failed shot, but all you can focus on is Jin, who’s watching you with that infuriatingly smug expression as he goes back to his side. Like he knows he hit a nerve. Like he’s enjoying this way too much.

Namjoon hands you a cup, a silent reminder that you have to drink now, and you take a slow sip, letting the bitterness coat your tongue.

You set the cup down, leveling Jin with a look. “Why would you assume that?”

He tilts his head, like he’s actually considering it. “Dunno. Just because you brought her up when you could’ve said anything else.”

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “Jin, we’re living together, but I know my own boundaries.”

His smirk falters for just a second. It’s quick—almost too quick—but you catch it.

He tosses the ball absentmindedly in his hand, his smirk still lingering but not quite reaching his eyes. Is the alcohol getting to him now? Or is it his own jealousy of you being alone with his friend? Either way, it’s loosening the usual filter between his thoughts and his words.

"You know your own boundaries?" he echoes, tilting his head slightly. "That’s funny. Thought we blurred a few of those while living together."

Your stomach flips, but you mask it with a scoff. “Oh, please. It’s not like—”

But the words catch in your throat before you can stop them. Not like you two sleep together? Not like you let him fuck you on camera? Not like you think about him more than you should?

Jin’s eyes widen slightly. He catches the slip before anyone else does. Shit.

You’re about to say something—maybe backtrack, maybe pretend it was nothing—but before you can, Jin moves.

In an instant, he closes the distance between you, his hand clamping over your mouth, muffling any potential disaster that could spill from your lips.

“Alright, that’s enough drinks for you,” he says quickly, his voice unnaturally light, like he’s trying to play it off.

The others blink in confusion, Yoongi narrowing his eyes as if already piecing things together.

“What the hell, Jin?” Jungkook laughs. “Where are you taking her?”

“She needs to cool off in her room,” Jin calls over his shoulder as he practically drags you away from the table, his grip firm but careful. You struggle slightly, letting out a muffled protest against his palm, but it’s no use—he’s already guiding you down the hallway.

Everyone that was watching the game looks at you two confused, but then go on to continue playing, now with Jungkook and Hoseok playing against Yunjin and Wendy, who is still stuck on the two of you being a bit weird. Before Wendy has time to question it to Yunjin, Jimin and Taehyung show up to watch them play.

On your end, the door slams shut.

Then—

Your back is against the wall.

Jin’s body is pressed against yours, his palm still covering your mouth, his other hand braced against the wall beside your head.

You freeze, eyes locking onto his, heart hammering against your ribs.

The air between you is thick, electric. His chest rises and falls, breath warm against your cheek. His eyes—usually so playful and teasing—are dark, serious. Frustrated.

You make an indignant noise behind his palm, glaring at him.

Jin exhales, running his tongue over his bottom lip before leaning in closer, so close that you feel his breath ghost over your skin.

He finally releases you, and you stumble slightly, glaring at him as you wipe your mouth. “Are you insane?”

Jin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Me? I just saved your ass from exposing everything in front of our friends!”

Your breath is still uneven from being manhandled into the room, your pulse racing for an entirely different reason now. You cross your arms, trying to steady yourself. “I wasn’t going to say anything—”

“You were,” he cuts in, his tone lower, more serious now. “You almost did.”

Uh, well…

You can’t even argue with that. He’s right. You did almost say something. And now, you’re not sure if it was just the alcohol or something deeper clawing its way to the surface.

You suck in a breath, staring at him. “You didn't need to drag me away, though” you accuse, voice coming out shakier than you intended.

“You were about to say some dumb shit that neither of us need getting out,” he shoots back, still keeping you caged against the wall. “What the hell was that?”

Your face burns. “Maybe I was tipsy! I don't know!”

Jin exhales harshly, tilting his head back like he’s trying to gather patience. “Jesus,” he mutters.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your skin is burning under his proximity. He hasn’t moved. His hands are still caging you in, his body still too close, and—god, why does he smell so good?

Is that a scent of fig tree with a cedarand woody note? Wait, no, you gotta focus. You meet his gaze, pulse erratic. “Are you mad?”

Jin lets out a short, humorless laugh. “No shit.”

Oh no.

Silence.

Neither of you move. Neither of you look away.

And then—

His eyes flicker down to your lips.

Your breath catches.

"I'm sorry," you say. Jin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident in the sharp rise and fall of his chest. His hands are still braced against the wall, caging you in, but his anger—hot and immediate—has shifted into something else entirely.

Something deeper.

His eyes flicker down to your lips again. Just for a second. But you catch it.

You feel it.

Your throat bobs, and you suddenly can’t decide if it’s the alcohol making your head light or the fact that Jin is looking at you like that.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to almost expose us," you repeat, softer this time. “I was just being stupid.”

Jin exhales through his nose, his gaze lingering on you, the sharp edges of his irritation dulling just slightly. He wants to keep being mad, wants to keep drilling it into your head that you were reckless, but…

You look too apologetic. Too sincere.

Too fucking cute.

The slight flush on your cheeks, the way your lips are slightly parted, the way your body feels small under him—it’s enough to make his resolve crack.

And maybe it’s the alcohol lowering his inhibitions.

Maybe it’s the past few months of unspoken tension between you two.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can still taste the way your body feels around him, that the memory of your breathless moans isn’t something he can just shake off like he does with meaningless encounters.

Maybe it’s all of that.

Or maybe Jin just wants to shut you up. Erase mentions of his past with thoughts of the present.

And so—without a second thought, without warning—he kisses you.

Leaving you in complete shock.

His lips crash onto yours, his hand moving from the wall to cup the side of your face, fingers curling into your hair as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss instantly.

You gasp against him, your body stiffening for just a second before melting into the heat of him. His mouth is hot, insistent, and when he presses in closer, slotting himself flush against you, you feel it—the tension between you finally snapping into something undeniable.

Your hands grip at his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer, and Jin groans low against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and straight to your core.

Fuck.

This isn’t like before.

This isn’t the mechanical, transactional chemistry you two have in front of the camera.

Or the casual closeness you have as friends in this home.

This is different.

This is raw. Messy. Real.

And that terrifies you.

Just as Jin’s lips part from yours, your phone vibrates in your back pocket, the sudden noise cutting through the hazy warmth of the moment.

You jerk away from him, breathless, pressing a shaky hand to his chest to create some distance. His brows furrow in confusion, lips still slightly swollen from the kiss, but you’re already fishing out your phone.

An unknown number flashes across the screen.

Your heart pounds for an entirely different reason now.

You swallow, trying to steady yourself before answering. The muffled bass from the party thrums behind the bedroom door, and you pray the caller doesn’t hear it.

“Hello?” you answer, your voice only slightly uneven.

“Hi, is this Y/N?”

You straighten at the sound of the polished, professional voice. “Uh—yes, this is she. How can I help you?”

“Hi, this is Gia, Content Marketing Director at Netflix,” the woman says smoothly. “The team and I discussed our decision, and I didn’t want to wait any longer to inform you. I’m calling to officially offer you the role.”

Your stomach drops.

“I—” You suck in a breath, gripping the phone tighter. “That’s… amazing. Thank you.”

Gia chuckles lightly, her tone warm. “Of course. We’d love to set up a time early next week to go over the details through a phone call. Would Monday at 10 AM work for you?”

Your thoughts are spinning, but somehow, you manage to ground yourself enough to say, “Yes! Monday at 10 works perfectly.”

Jin, still standing close, mouths, Who is it?

You shake your head quickly, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to process what’s happening.

Oh my god.

You just got the job.

Oh god.

“Perfect,” Gia says. “We’ll talk more then. Congratulations again, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much,” you manage, voice slightly breathless. The call ends with a polite goodbye, and you’re left standing there, phone still clutched in your hand, stunned.

Jin tilts his head, still waiting for an answer. “Well?”

You lift your gaze to meet his, wide-eyed and almost disbelieving.

“I just got the job offer at Netflix.”

And just like that—with a new situation arising, everything changes.

- -

a/n: i have no long notes to add. except REMEMBER TO PRE-SAVE AND PRE-ORDER JIN'S 2ND ALBUM ECHO, NOW !! but anyways, that was a crazy ending to this chapter. there's only one more left and that will be released the day before jin's album so look forward to that!!!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

71 notes · View notes

justmystyles · 1 year ago

Text

Baby-Baby-Baby

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,993

summary: Harry meets his niece for the first time, the joy and excitement are quickly replaced with a whole new set of feelings when his best friend, Y/N joins him at the hospital.

a/n: throwing my hat in the unclerry ring with this big ball of fluff. i actually just thought of a new series idea that this would have fit so perfectly with, but i'm nowhere near ready to start releasing that, so here's a little bestierry fluff instead!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The sound of her phone ringing breaks Y/N from her deep, peaceful slumber. With an annoyed grumble, she blindly slaps her hand around until she finds it and answers it with a grunt.

“It’s happening Y/N, it’s happening!”

As she slowly starts to come to, she rubs the sleep from her eyes and sits up. “Harry? Wh-what’s happening?” She responds groggily.

“Gem! She’s having the baby! She’s at the hospital right now!” He shouts, causing her to furrow her brow and pull the phone away from her ear slightly.

“Okay, Harry, deep breaths, calm down.” She says trying to talk him down. “Are you going to the hospital?”

“Not yet, mum’s there with her and Michal now. They’re going to let me know when she’s here and then I’m going to go.”

She could hear the anxiety in his voice, she could see it clearly in her mind, Harry pacing back and forth in his living room, likely with a glass of wine in his hand. “And what are you doing until you get that call?” She says knowingly.

Harry notices her tone and knows exactly why she’s asking. “You know, just taking it easy.”

“Liar.”

Harry sighs and rolls his eyes. “Well what do you want me to do? My big sister is having a baby! I’m going to be an uncle!”

“I’m coming over.” She replies as she slides out of bed and starts grabbing some clothes to change into.

“You don’t have to…”

“Yes I do,” she interrupts. “If I don’t, I’m just going to get a bunch of stream of consciousness texts and phone calls from you while you sit alone freaking out. I may as well just get them in person.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Harry says. She can hear his pout from the other end of the phone.

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end of the phone. He definitely wanted her to come over, he didn’t want to wait alone, he just felt bad dragging her out of bed and demanding her time. “Thanks, Y/N.”

She smiles softly at his appreciative tone. “Of course.” She hangs up the phone and gets dressed.

Thirty minutes later, Y/N was standing at Harry’s front door knocking gently. When he answers, he’s noticeably frazzled.

“Hey, Uncle Harry.” She says cheerily.

In that moment, Harry’s nerves and anxiety drift away and the corners of his mouth turn up into a wide, dimpled grin. He takes her hand and leads her into the house. “Wine?”

“Half a glass.” She says as he leads her to the kitchen. She takes a seat at the kitchen island as he pours her some wine, and a little more for himself. She arches a brow at him.

“It’s only my second, and I’m only having it so you aren’t drinking alone.” He says defensively.

“Fine, we have one now to pre-celebrate, and another when you get back from the hospital.” She holds up her glass. “To Gemma and Michal.”

“Mhm,” Harry hums in agreement, clinking his glass to hers and taking a sip. “Wait, what do you mean when I get back from the hospital?”

She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Isn’t that what this is all about? You’re waiting to get the call so you can go meet your niece.”

“Yeah, no I get that, but you said when I get back, not when we get back.” He arches a brow.

“Because we’re not going. You are. I’ll just wait for you here, or go home and sleep…”

“What do you mean go home? You’re coming!”

“Harry, this is a family thing, your sister will have just gone through labor. This isn’t some party I can just tag along to.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Harry laughs and shoves her playfully. “You’re practically family, you know Gemma loves you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she takes a sip of her wine. “So, should we narrow down what baby gift you’re bringing to the hospital? I know you have a room full of toys and outfits for her.” She expertly changes the subject.

“Probably just one of the stuffies, she’ll only be in the hospital for a few days, I can bring everything else to the house when she gets home.”

She chuckles at his answer. “God, you’re already spoiling the hell out of this kid.”

“You’d better believe it!”

The two of them continue to chit chat and laugh, passing the time and successfully keeping Harry distracted, and then his phone rang. Harry looks at the screen, his gaze flitting up to Y/N. “It’s mum…”

“Well answer it!” She insists.

“Mum?” Harry answers the phone, Y/N watches Harry’s expression, his eyes quickly light up, a bright smile growing on his face as he gives her a thumbs up, indicating that everything went well.

“That’s great! Yeah, okay.” He continues to respond to his mother on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, on my way.” He looks up at Y/N. “Oh, Y/N is here, do you think Gem would mind if she came too?” His proud brother smile is quickly replaced with a shit eating grin. “Great, we’ll see you soon. Love you too.”

“She said it would be wonderful if you came. Now they’re expecting you, so you have no choice.” He says smugly, causing her to roll her eyes.

***

They enter the maternity ward of the hospital, and walk down the hallway to Gemma’s room. When they arrive in front of the door, Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle.

“You ready to be an uncle?” Y/N says softly, placing her hand on his back.

His smile widens and he nods his head, turning the handle and pushing the door open. The friends enter the room together, Harry going straight to his sister, while Y/N goes to greet his mother, Anne.

“Congratulations, mum.” Harry says to his sister with a chuckle.

Gemma laughs and hugs him tightly. “Thank you.” When they pull apart, Gemma nods to the bassinet beside her. “Say hello to your niece, I know she’s the reason you’re really here.”

Harry looks down at the sweet little bundle before him, reaching down and running a finger over her small cheek. “She’s perfect,” he coos as his eyes travel over every feature, wanting to memorize everything about this moment.

“You can pick her up, you know.” Gemma teases.

Harry rolls his eyes and reaches down gently, lifting his niece into his arms for the first time. He takes a seat in a nearby chair and cradles her closely in his arms, whispering softly to her, promises of protection and love, and being spoiled rotten.

As Y/N and Anne catch up, Y/N watches Harry out of the corner of her eye, for as long as they’ve been friends, any time she saw Harry with children, it would give her a warm fuzzy feeling. He was such a natural with them, but to see him with his niece was on an entirely different level.

Y/N was so focused on Harry that she didn’t notice the knowing glances shared by Gemma and Anne. The two of them had always noticed the chemistry between Harry and Y/N, they’d drop hints now and then, but ultimately wanted to leave it to the two of them to figure out for themselves.

Eventually, Y/N pulls out her phone, knowing Harry is going to want a picture of this moment. She snaps a few candid shots, a warm smile spread across her face.

“You should hold her too,” Gemma says, pulling Y/N from her impromptu photo shoot.

She looks up and smiles at Gemma, walking up to her and giving her a hug. “Congrats, Gem. I’m sorry for tagging along, I’m sure you’re exhausted, the last thing you need is extra people tagging along.”

“You’re not an extra person,” Gemma scoffs. “You’re practically family.”

“Told you so.” Harry says smugly from his seat, the baby still in his arms.

“Oh shut up and hand her over.” She teases.��

Harry laughs quietly, not wanting to startle his niece. He stands from the chair and waits for Y/N to be seated before carefully placing the baby in her arms.

Once she’s holding the baby, she looks down and smiles. “She’s so beautiful, Gemma.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty fond of her.” She chuckles in response.

Y/N’s eyes stay locked on the soft features, her light eyelashes fluttering across her delicate cheeks. Her petite mouth opens in a wide yawn, and Y/N swears her heart is going to explode.

“You are just the most precious little thing in the whole world, aren’t you?” She coos at the newborn. “Don’t worry, when your Uncle Harry gets too annoying, you can just come find me…”

“Heyyy!” Harry whines. Y/N looks up and sticks her tongue out at him, while Gemma and Anne laugh at the exchange.

“You look like a natural holding her, Y/N.” Anne redirects the conversation.

Y/N smiles up at her. “Thanks, I love kids. I’d love to have a couple of my own someday…”

Those words, combined with the sight of Y/N holding a baby cause a switch to flip inside of Harry. It’s as if his world of black and white suddenly turned to color right in front of him. In that moment, he thinks about what it would be like if she were sitting there with their baby in her arms.

His mind starts racing with thoughts, sure during their years of friendship, there have been a couple of lingering glances and drunken kisses here and there, but they were friends. He’d never even considered going beyond that, not even with the not so subtle hints that his mother and sister would drop anytime Y/N’s name would come up in conversation. But now, it was all he could think about.

After spending a bit more time at the hospital, it was clear that Gemma and the baby needed their rest, so Harry promised to come by again in a few hours, and the pair made their way back to Harry’s house.

The car ride was surprisingly silent, Y/N was sure that Harry would be talking nonstop about meeting his niece, and how cute she was, rehashing every gurgle and squeak that came out of her tiny little mouth, but he kept his eyes on the road, looking as though he was deep in thought. She didn’t say anything, she figured he just needed some time to process everything that had happened, and she was happy to give him that.

When they arrived back at his house, they go inside and hang up their coats. “Wine?” Y/N asks, hoping it will open the lines of communication between the two of them.

Harry looks up, hint of surprise on his face, as if he forgot that she was there. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, wine would be good.”

When they get to the kitchen, Y/N pours them each a glass, they clink them together and take a sip.

“Oh, I got some really cute pictures of you holding her, by the way.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and shows Harry the photos. “I’ll text them to you.”

“Thanks.” He says, a dreamy smile plastered on his face. Has Y/N always been this thoughtful? Of course she had, that’s one of the things he’d always loved about her.

“Hey,” Y/N says softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “You okay? You’ve been quiet since we left the hospital.”

Harry smiles nervously, waging an internal battle on whether or not to disclose what’s been going on in his mind. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good. It’s just been a big day.”

“I get it. I swear, if this is how you get just from becoming an uncle, you may go catatonic when you have your own kids.” She chuckles and continues to sip her glass of wine.

Harry feels his heart rate pickup, and he decides that he needs to get it out, he needs to tell her. “You know, you looked pretty at home holding that baby…” He says, opening the door for this conversation, that could either end really well, or really poorly.

“Yeah, I think I felt my ovaries stir a little while I was there.” She chuckles, completely unaware of the conversation to come.

Harry lets out a soft laugh as he takes a sip of his wine, trying to play it cool, even though he felt anything but. “You know, I had this crazy thought when I saw you holding the baby…”

“Oh yeah? What kind of crazy thought?”

Harry smiles softly and looks down at his feet, swirling the wine in his glass. “Well, the way you were holding her, the look on your face, you just bounding her in your arms so gently, her smiling up at you, her tiny hand grabbing your finger, it just got me thinking…” He looks up, locking eyes with her, searching for some kind of reaction.

“Thinking what, Har?” She asked tentatively.

Harry shrugs shyly. “I dunno… it got me thinking, what if that was our kid you were holding?”

Y/N’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Ours? Like yours and mine?”

Harry nods sheepishly, but there is an intensity in his gaze. “I know we’ve never talked about that before, but, I don’t know, I saw you holding her, and it seemed so natural… and that look on your face… it changed something in my heart, and I just realized that I want that.”

“With me? You want that with me… your best friend?”

“Yeah,” he nods, his expression never wavering. “With you, but not as my best friend, as my wife.”

“Harry…” She gasps softly. “This is all kind of out of the blue…”

Harry takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know, I know, but can you honestly tell me that you’ve never thought about what it would be like if we were together?”

Y/N is silent for a moment as she considers his question. “I mean yeah, of course I’ve thought about it, you’re sweet, funny, good looking. I’d be crazy not to think about it every now and then. But I just always assumed I’d been friend zoned since day one.”

“That’s fair… and honestly, I think you kind of were. I don’t know, something changed today. I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He pauses for a moment, but continues when he sees that she’s still trying to process.

“Think about it, we know each other better than anyone else. We’ve been there for each other through so many breakups, we know exactly what the other wants and expects in relationships. I know for a fact I’d be way better than most of those idiots you waste your time with.”

She lets out a soft chuckle, he was definitely right about that. Y/N thought about it for a minute, and she was right, there had never been a more constant, supportive presence in her life. She considered all the things she wanted in a partner, and realized that Harry was all of those things.

“You realize if we do this, there’s no going back. It’s all or nothing…”

“I don’t want to go back, only forward. Only with you.” Harry says confidently.

Y/N takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, yeah… let’s do it…”

Harry’s eyes light up, his expression mixed with relief and joy. “Yeah? Are you sure?” Y/N smiles shyly, biting the corner of her lip and nodding.

He places his wine glass down on the counter and takes a step towards Y/N, taking her glass and putting that down as well. “So, I guess we should probably kiss now?” He asks softly, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“Seems like the next logical step…” She replies quietly.

They both start leaning closer until their lips touch. The kiss is gentle at first, but Harry quickly runs his tongue along the seam of her lips, she parts them, granting him access. He places his hands on her hips, pulling her flush to him as they explore each other’s mouths. Unlike the drunken kisses they had shared in the past, this wasn’t sloppy or rushed. It was slow and deliberate, taking their time to truly explore this new side to their relationship.

When they finally separate to catch their breath, they keep their foreheads pressed together, and look into each other’s eyes.

“So what, we’re like engaged now, or something?” Y/N asks in a slightly teasing tone.

“No way,” Harry says promptly. “If we were engaged, you’d know it. You’re gonna get the big, fancy elaborate proposal, and a big ol’ rock to go along with it.” He says confidently. “But it’ll be coming. Probably soon…”

“Soon?” She asks, slightly surprised.

“Sure, the whole point of dating is to get to know someone. We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst. You know all my little quirks, and I know all those annoying little things about you, and I still want this…”

“Heyyy,” Y/N protests, causing Harry to laugh.

“I know all the cute, sweet, endearing things about you too.” He adds, kissing the tip of her nose.

She narrows her eyes playfully, her wide grin giving her away. “You know we do have one little problem…”

Harry’s brow rounds in concern. “What?”

“Gemma’s gonna take credit for this.”

Harry throws his head back in laughter. “You’re not wrong, but it’s a small price to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.” He leans in and kisses her again.

398 notes · View notes

the-lambda-archives-ai · 9 months ago

Text

Statement of : Gordon Martinez Freeman, 30 year old MIT graduate,Regarding a peculiar video game he’d found.

Recorded direct from subject, May 16, 200-

Statement begins.

Pt 1 > here

ABOUT 👇

Hello! I am the author of this AU, you can find my main at @inkzectz , for more meta questions about this AU, or for general comments about it, please go there.

What is the AU about?

LA : AI is a crossover AU of sorts, in the simplest way put, it’s TMA but with HLVRAI characters, TMA stuff happens but altered to fit the general HLVRAI narrative, and with my own changes, headcanons, etc. added

I will be updating/editing this post as I progress.

Will it have spoilers?

Disclaimer!!

The AU will have a lot of the original themes of hlvrai and more so TMA, more so, horror themes, this will include gore, body horror, worms, decomposition, cult themes, psychological horror, arachnophobia,flashing imagery, etc.

(Will update as I go on)

I also feel it is important to mention this is the first time I have ever made a ask blog/ web comic/ published a story online, I will make mistakes, please bare with me as I am trying to figure things out.

English is not my first language, I do my best to grammar check and write well, but at the end of the day I will also be making mistakes.

Please be patient with me.

This au is a passion project of mine that I am doing on my free time because I want to, it is important to remember as a reader, I do not owe you anything.

It is best if you’ve seen it but as of writing it right now (early ep 4) there aren’t any spoilers. Once I am a little further ahead then you may want to listen to it.

Yes, not a lot, but vague/mild spoilers about how the world works, plot points, and character.

Again the spoilers will be vague and mild at worst, as it progresses I would recommend listening to tma, but it’s sort of like how while half life knowledge is helpful in hlvrai it isn’t exactly necessary to enjoy hlvrai bc it’s different enough from it to not really matter (?) I hope that makes sense.

Asks rules

- No telling [ player ] exactly what happens ex : “omg [ player ] when you weren’t looking [ npc ] said this very important thing that is supposed to be kept secret for lore reasons”

- Please avoid asks like “tell this character they’re pretty” while I appreciate the compliment, I am trying to write a story and want to keep things as on topic as possible. Instead tell me on my main if you like the art, I’ll probably reply with a doodle or something, just not on here.

- Less so of a rule but more so of a general statement, I will be avoiding asks that either are too close to what happens or if answering would mean progressing the story too quickly, there’s a lot I want to happen and I want time to do it all.

- Another one that’s less of a rule and more of a general thing, if I don’t like what you said I won’t be answering.

- I also sometimes just don’t know how to answer some things.

- Please be respectful of the ships I choose to include and don't force your own, ship wars and such will not be tolerated.

- Please be respectful of others and do not spoil anything, not everyone has listened to TMA and knows it's themes.

I will not be answering everything, I cannot always get to every message so please be respectful of that.

Select character

Character abouts! [ Will be updating as I continue to work on the story ]

[ select ] > Mr. Freeman

> Gordon Martinez ‘Martini’ Freeman

30 y.o . 6’0 . 230lb . Romani / Puertorican . male [ he/him ] . bisexual

[ PLAYER ]

> Lives in Seattle, MIT graduate, left Black Mesa, works as a librarian IRL but also makes money via streaming video games occasionally, in real time it is 2018.

> Believes in the paranormal out of fear but tries to rationalize out of denial, he will never admit something is supernatural and will jump through hoops to rationalize even if deep down he does believe.

> Has a son named Joshua Medrano Freeman, who is 6 years old, Gordon and his old partner met in college but split up before Joshua was born, they remain civil but are nothing more to each other than Joshua’s other parent.

> Gordon rents an apartment with 3 rooms, his own room, Joshua’s room, and a third that used to be a guest room but he has so little visitors he’s just chosen to revamp it into a gaming room.

> Gordon works primarily in a library for now as he’s looking for a better job.

> Gordon often wears hoodies, sweaters, t-shirts, crew necks, and any general outfit one would wear at home, long curly hair that is beginning to grey due to stress, unkempt goatee, and almost always wears green tinted glasses [ he doesn’t need glasses he just thinks they’re cool ]

> His hair is usually pulled back in a ponytail but can also be found in a bun or just down.

< [ select ] > Mr. Coolatta

> Thomas ‘Tommy’ Coolatta, primary researcher, and technical head of the institute.

39 y.o . 6’7 . 190lb . Chinese/filipino . Male [ he/him ] . ???

[ NPC ]

> His father owns the Lambda institute and he grew up in it, he officially started working in the archives when he was 24, and of all the employees in the entire institute he has worked there the longest.

> No one knows who his father really is, Tommy being the only one who’s ever actually seen / spoken to him, his father is the real head of the institute but gives most his orders through Tommy, so Tommy is also technically the head as well.

> Not much is actually known about him, besides his father he doesn’t appear to have any other family, nor does he ever speak of his personal life much.

> Tommy primarily works as an archival assistant, specifically in research, he is the one who will verify details regarding statements or do further investigations into aspects of the statements.

> Tommy is quite the colorful character, often wearing colorful clothing and accessories, he seems to think doing so brings some cheer into an otherwise boring environment, he often wears patterned polo shirts, cheap company bracelets, pins, lanyards, pant chains, but is never without his signature multicolor propeller hat.

#Lambda archives : AI #LA:AI ep 1 #hlvrai #hlvrai au #la:ai #tma au #half life vr but the ai is self aware

204 notes · View notes

widowsistersandfriends · 6 months ago

Text

Free Hugs

Request: Apparently Kathryn does a back tickling thing when she hugs people, could you write something with that with the reader? 🤭

Note: Thank you for this request! I haven't seen a video of it, so I'm not sure how accurately I portrayed it. Hope you enjoy! :)

Word Count: 1052

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

You were currently a TV show host, one who interviewed many celebrities to promote their upcoming movies and shows. Today you had Kathryn Hahn on as a guest and were preparing backstage beforehand.

You were a bit more nervous for this interview. You had interviewed plenty of A-list celebrities, but Kathryn still made you star-struck at times. There was a certain poise and confidence to her that you were in awe of. She knew just exactly what to say while maintaining her composure and always supported the right causes. She was just perfect.

You snapped out of your daydream when they notified you that Kathryn had arrived. Before interviewing them on TV, you would usually meet with them a few hours before filming to go over boundaries, questions, and which topics they were okay with sharing and which ones you should avoid.

You walked through the door and saw Kathryn arriving with her team, her hair up in a fancy updo, accompanied by a sleek pant suit that fit her perfectly. For being in her 50s, she didn’t look a day over 30.

“Hi Kathryn, how are you doing?” You asked, stepping forward to accept her hug.

“I’m awesome!” Kathryn cheered, hugging you tightly.

You suddenly felt her nails lightly tickling your back, causing you to quickly pull away from her embrace.

“What’s wrong dear?” Kathryn asked, genuinely concerned.

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, turning bright pink.

Kathryn was good at picking up on social cues, and this time she knew right away.

“Did that tickle?” She outright asked, smiling at your lack of eye contact.

“No!” You insisted.

“It’s okay if you’re ticklish, I just like doing that to people. It breaks the ice and also gives me a secret weapon,” Kathryn teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You were too overwhelmed with embarrassment, so you quickly changed the subject and asked her to sit to talk about the interview.

Kathryn was there to promote her new show ‘Agatha All Along,’ which was streaming on Disney+. You asked her about how much she could reveal about the plot and for her to provide a little bit of background from WandaVision to help viewers understand when and where this show is taking place.

The two of you chatted more, as Kathryn also gave some insight on her personal life now that she was done filming for the show.

“Thank you so much for meeting up with me before the shoot! We’re gonna be on in 15 minutes, so if you need to use the restroom or anything go ahead!” You said, as you both got up.

“You’re not going to hug me again, are you?” You asked cautiously.

“What? You afraid I’m gonna tickle you again?” Kathyrn smirked.

“No…I just wanted to ask…” you trailed off, as Kathryn giggled at your embarrassment.

“Watch out, I just may embarrass you on live television,” Kathyrn playfully threatened.

Your cheeks burned again, imagining the embarrassment before it even happened. There was no way you could ever show your face again if that happened!

The two of you eventually came out onto the set, where there was a live audience, surrounded by lights and cameras everywhere.

You introduced Kathyrn to the crowd, and allowed her to answer some questions about the new show.

“So, what is like bonding with your coven? Were there any difficulties?” You asked her.

“Well, we all got along really well in my opinion, but with any new cast there’s always some ice to break here and there, but by the end of it you’re family,” Kathryn said.

You tensed slightly at the use of the phrase ‘ice to break,’ remembering that she had used that phrase earlier when she tickled you.

Kathryn knew you were gonna quickly change the subject before she could answer how she broke the ice, so she quickly continued before you could answer.

“There were a lot of little things I would do to break the ice, including giving free hugs,” Kathryn stated confidently. You knew you were trapped and would have to ask her more, or else it would be an abrupt change of subject and would make you look like a bad interviewer.

“I bet your cast members loved your hugs. Personally speaking, I received a hug from Kathryn before this interview and it was wonderful!” You said, as you had turned to the crowd to speak.

“They absolutely love them! Except for Aubrey, she hated them because I would give like a little gentle back tickle when I hug people and it would drive her nuts,” Kathryn said while laughing, as you froze, not expecting the forbidden t word to be dropped like that.

The audience laughed, and you joined in awkwardly, not knowing what to say next without stumbling over your words.

“Do you guys want a demonstration?” Kathryn asked the audience, as they all shouted in unison. Your eyes widened, as Kathryn got up.

“You want a free hug?” Kathryn asked you. You knew the ratings of your TV show would go up if you went along, but you knew the embarrassment would last forever. Maybe I can just hold my reaction in…you thought to yourself.

You walked into Kathryn’s hug, expecting the tickle to be around the lower part of your back, which she had done earlier. You braced yourself for it, only to be caught off guard by her nails tickling the upper part of your back.

You gasped and jumped away, squirming your shoulders away from the ticklish touch.

The crowd laughed, as Kathryn chuckled in glee.

“Well there’s one thing you and Aubrey have in common. Both ticklish on your backs,” Kathryn teased, giving your side a poke before going back to sit in her chair.

You tried to suppress a yelp and jump by quickly covering it up with a cough.

“Thanks for that demonstration,” you said sarcastically.

“My pleasure. It’s something Agatha would most definitely do, so I’m trying to give the crowd real authenticity,” Kathryn stated, making the crowd laugh.

You managed to get through the rest of the interview, but your head was still flying around the thought that Kathryn had tickled you in front of everyone. Rest assured, you would be staying off of social media for the next week to avoid the circulating videos.

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

If you enjoyed this fic please consider supporting my writing on my Ko-fi! Commissions and donations are welcome!

135 notes · View notes

drvscarlett · 8 months ago

Text

About You Pt 14

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: we do not condone cheating in this household, that is all. enjoy!

About You Series

2013, Yas Marina Circuit

Jenson values his rest which is why lights were off as soon as it hits 8pm. Everyone knows that this was his schedule during the race weekend so why the hell is someone knocking at his door at 10:40 in the evening. He was about to shout and give this person a screaming but all the irritation disappeared when he saw Y/N at the door.

She was disheveled, an uncommon sight to him. As far as Jenson remembered, Y/N always try to make an effort to look as if she is well-composed even when the whole Multi 21 incident was happening last year. Jenson swears he remembered how she looked happy and excited when they parted ways earlier. What the fuck happened in a matter of hours?

“Jesus Christ, Y/N what is going on” Jenson was immediately awake.

He checked her for bruises fearing that someone laid a hand on her. To his relief there weren’t any. The puffy red eyes were a point of concern because there were only so little things that could make her cry like that.

“Can I stay here? I don’t know where else to go”she finally spoke.

“Of course, get in”

Jenson shuffled to make way for her inside. He was careless to let her stand in the hallway for so long but he didn't miss the implication of her sentence. Why would she say that she has nowhere to go if Sebastian is always there for her? Jenson has witnessed it several times how the Red Bull driver would drop anything to take care of her.

A thought crossed Jenson's mind but that would be impossible. He knew Sebastian would never break up with Y/N, the man would rather get run over by a car than lose her.

“I can prepare you a cup of tea. You should change to some clothes, I have some of our team kit in my closet that may fit you”Jenson suggested.

Y/N sits on the floor of the hotel blankly with tears streaming down her face. It was a scene that tugged the heart of Jenson deeply. If he could do anything to take that pain away then he would.

“C'mon Y/N, lets get you out of this clothes. You take a quick shower then lets talk” Jenson encourages.

The girl was running on autopilot and Jenson was scared. This was the first time that he encountered Y/N to be in this type of state. He has the idea to message if which one of the idiots in Red Bull fought again but he thought it would be best to hear it out from Y/N herself.

When Y/N stepped out of the shower with dry clothes, Jenson was already done with the tea. He led Y/N to sit on one of the couches and Jenson took a sit next to her. It was a few minutes of silence as they sip their tea until Jenson finally caved in.

“Talk to me, whats happening”Jenson begged.

Y/N's deadpanned expression turned to face Jenson. She seems to struggle which one she would tell first or how will she narrate the story. Jenson holds her hand as a form of comfort.

“I went to dinner with Hanna”Y/N found her voice

Jenson tried to recall any Hanna that he knew about. His face scrunched up in his heavy thinking and Y/N noticed that.

“Its Sebastian’s childhood friend”Y/N added.

“Oh its that blonde one right?”Jenson remembered “She used to be here for a few races“

There was silence again from the female Webber. It was frustrating Jenson and he wished he could just mindread the thoughts going on in her head.

“Turns out she is pregnant”she sighs.

Jenson's face contorted to one with confusion. Why would it matter if Sebastian's childhood friend is pregnant? What does it have to do with anything that's happening? Unless...

“No shit, are you fucking serious?" Jenson puts one and one together

It felt like he was being pranked right now and any second the camera crews will get out of their hiding. He wanted everything to be a one big joke but the room remained silent and tears continue to stream down her face.

Jenson wanted to get up and give that Vettel a piece of his mind but he stopped as he looked at Y/N. Leaving her on her own is not the best decision so he just enveloped her in a hug.

“I don’t know Jenson, its so fucked up” Y/N’s voice was faltering as she tries to stop her tears “Was everything just a lie? All those times he was wooing me and now I found out he has a fucking kid with somebody?”

Y/N wiped her tears and she let out a fake laughter. All the emotions are going haywire now.

“Hanna is 6 months along… It ties up around the time of the Spain GP, just before my fucking birthday”Y/N explained.

The scenes were starting to connect with each other. He remembered the earlier conversation with Sebastian about the big mistake he did. He should have seen this coming and punched Sebastian.

“That fucking twat”he mutters.

“I don’t know what to fucking do Jenson, I don’t know what to think anymore”

“Just talk to me, I’m listening”

But frankly, Jenson’s thoughts were filled with regrets. It shatters Jenson because this was the only thing he begged Sebastian, he begged him to take care of Y/N and Sebastian cannot even follow simple directions. If he knew that this is how things would have ended up between the two of them then he should have just tried his best to woo Y/N.

He felt so useless with everything, and he could just only be a comforting shoulder for Y/N.

“She begged me Jenson. She asked if I could talk to Sebastian because the kid needs a father” Y/N narrated “How can I live with that memory in my head that if I allowed myself to be happy then I’m depriving a kid of their father. And Jenson, I love Sebastian. I really love him”

Jenson could feel his heart silently shatter by that confirmation. With everything said and done, Y/N loves Sebastian. It was the reason why she felt so hurt by the whole thing because she loved him. He wanted to ask which God decided to play a cruel joke on him. Having to see the girl he loves the most crying over a man who didn't deserve her when he was there all along and could treat her better.

2013, Circuit of The Americas

Sebastian arrived at the circuit earlier than usual. He has been feeling a bit tense the past few days. Ever since Abu Dhabi, Y/N seems to be avoiding him. She didn't reply to her text messages, she flied out early, and she seems to not be present in the garage during the races. Some may say that it was just all a coincidence and that maybe Y/N was just busy but something was bugging Sebastian about the situation.

So he was hellbent to find some answers today. He headed out to the McLaren garage to talk to Jenson or even try to talk to Y/N.

Some McLaren staffs were preparing the car and they pointed at hush whispers to see the Red Bull driver in their garage.

"Hi goodmorning. Can anyone point me to where Y/N or Jenson is, I just have to speak to any of them and its really important" Sebastian greeted.

The staffs look at each other seemingly wary about his request. Little did Sebastian know but Jenson had a lengthy message before their arrival at COTA that Sebastian Vettel should not be allowed to speak with anyone in McLaren especially to Y/N.

"Did anyone not hear me? I'm asking where is Y/N or Jen-"

"What do you need me for?"Jenson appeared as if on cue.

Sebastian let out a sigh of relief upon seeing his friend. He was about to give him a hug but then Jenson's face seems to be filled with irritation.

"Are you okay? You look mad?" Sebastian pointed out.

"Mad? I'm mad?"Jenson fakes a laughter "Oh I am extremely happy Sebastian. I am fucking ecstatic"

"Seriously what's going on, why are you acting weird?"

Something about what Sebastian said pushed Jenson to the edge. The next thing he knows, Jenson was tackling him and they were engaged in a physical altercation. The McLaren employees were quick on their feet to seperate the two of them but Jenson was still lunging to get a punch towards Sebastian.

It was a good thing that there was no media around at this time or else this would have been a huge scandal. Only the employees of the team are present in the garages so this could be contained.

"What the fuck is your problem?"Sebastian roared.

"You're the fucking problem"Jenson shouts back "You are a fucking piece of shit"

The McLaren staffs tried to subdue Jenson but he seems to be adamant to get out of their hold. Sebastian could see in his peripheral view that some of the Red Bull staffs are running to get their driver out.

"We fucking know Sebastian, we know what you did"

And the color suddenly leaves Sebastian's body. His mind running a million thoughts, how the fuck did Jenson know? He stood there frozen unable to defend himself because he knows it was just right for Jenson to punch him. Hell, he deserves worse.

"What did you do Sebastian?"Britta wondered "Are you hurt Seb? Do you want to file a complaint?"

Sebastian shakes his head "Let's just go and leave".

"Yeah and stay the fuck away"Jenson warns.

Some McLaren employees were begging Jenson to stop and think of his rash actions' consequences. They may have physically restrained Jenson but his eyes followed Sebastian as if it was shooting daggers. Sebastian cannot shake the feeling of it even in the comforts of the Red Bull motorhome.

There were lots of things that Sebastian wanted to say. He wanted to tell Jenson that it was an accident and he had too much to drink which is why it happened. He wanted to ask how did he find out and who is the we that he is talking about.

His heart drops upon realizing the weird behavior of Y/N the past few days. Oh fucking shit, she knows.

2013, Autódromo José Carlos Pace

It was the morning before the free practice. The sun was still rising but Y/N managed to find herself early in the garage. Everything was still a bit empty, a big contrast to how the place would be packed in a few hours. With plenty of time to kill, she decided to take a walk around the track.

There was an empty feeling that there was no one by her side. She was so used over the years that there was always a driver by her side. It may be Mark discussing about the family and some kids he is mentoring. It can be Jenson who is busy winking and waving at the fans. And of course, Sebastian, the one who talks her ear off about the winners and the iconic scenes around the track.It feels a bit lonely to walk the tracks by herself.

In light of the recent events, she has been a bit lonely. Sebastian was someone she was ignoring for the obvious reasons. Jenson is someone she talks to for work duties but other than that he is on timeout after his outrage in COTA. Mark is also off the table because she might end up crying and Mark ends up doing something stupid such as crashing Sebastian on purpose.

Seb <3: Please let me talk to you. Seb<3: It’s the end of the season and I don’t want us to go to our winter break with this heaviness on our shoulder. Seb <3: Just please let me explain. Let’s talk about this

The same kind of messages have been circulating ever since the COTA incident. There was not a day that goes by that Sebastian is messaging her asking if they could talk about things. She has to hand it to him that he doesn't give up even if she was radio silent.

What's bugging her is how everyday she is itching to go talk to him. A side of her knows that whatever he has to tell her will never justify the whole thing. Sebastian still hid the truth about sleeping with someone and he betrayed the trust they shared. However, there was a part screaming inside of her to hear him out. It was honestly frustrating to end up in this position that it got her falling apart.

Funny how the mere thought of him causes tears to fall from her eyes and still she wanted to see him. Its so fucking stupid.

She hurriedly tried to find a towel or handkerchief because when she cries it was far from pretty sight with the tears and the snot. There were people coming around the track so it would be pretty bad if anyone sees her. God, she would hate herself to be pictured by the media and have to explain why she is crying to Mark.

"Here, you need this" A hand suddenly extended to her offering a handkerchief.

The first that she did was wipe her eyes to clear her vision and then blow her nose to help her breathe again. Y/N looked up and she was surprised to see a familiar face.

"Jules, oh my god this is quite embarrassing. I'm sorry you have to see me like this"Y/N fuzzes “I am seriously not like this always”

The last time that she met Jules by her own was in Monaco. She remembered how she was also upset and confused during that time. It seems like its becoming a habit that Jules sees her when she is feeling down.

"Oh no, nothing to be sorry about"Jules assured

“You always carry a handkerchief or do you have a dora backpack that carries everything you need?”Y/N tried to joke around.

Jules let out a soft chuckle clearly understanding the reference.

“Would have loved that Dora bag but”Jules shared“its actually my old man told me that I should always carry one so that I can lend it to someone crying or needing to use it to blow their nose”

“That’s very specific and I feel targeted by those statements”

He just held up his hand high in surrender with a smile. It was a joy to have Jules presence because it lifted her spirits even for a moment.

“Wanna walk with me?”Y/N wondered.

“Sure”

Small conversation were shared between the two of them as they walk. Jules gave an update about Charles, who Y/N notes to be ranking up in his career. The conversation was a distraction for Y/N but Jules can't help but notice the disposition of the girl a while ago.

"I don't mean to pry but you seem to have a lot going on in your mind"Jules pointed out "Maybe you could talk to me about it"

Y/N musters a small smile "That bad huh?"

"We can sit down at the side of the track if you like so you can tell me what's going on"Jules offered.

"There's nothing going on"

But she knows her voice is weak and it betrays her. Even, she was unconvinced by the sentence she just uttered. There was clearly a lot going on.

Skepticism was apparent in Jules' face however he nods his head in understanding. He knows that if Y/N doesn't want to talk about it then he won't force her to talk about it. He continues walking with her and Y/N appreciates that.

"But can I ask you a hypothetical question?" Y/N quizzed.

"Go on"

There were a lot of tell-tale signs that Y/N was nervous with the way she was fiddling with her necklace and how she avoids eye contact. Jules turned to her and stopped. He put his hands on Y/N's shoulders to keep her from shaking.

"Hey, you don't have to say anything if you aren't ready to talk about it"Jules assured "Don't stress on it"

"But I need help" there was the cry of distress.

"Okay then lay out the hypothetical situation"Jules encouraged.

"Okay hypothetically speaking, what does it mean if you got a girl pregnant and that girl is not your girlfriend. And still you want to talk and explain to your girlfriend. Do you still love your girlfriend? Why do you want to talk to your girlfriend?"

Jules seems bewildered by the whole story as he seems to curse in french under his breath. He just couldn't fathom how Y/N has been placed in such a deep shit situation.

"Please tell me you are not pregnant" Jules begged.

"I AM NOT!"

"You're not cheating?"

"For the record, this is a hypothetical situation"Y/N reminded "But to answer your question, im not cheating"

A sigh of relief escaped Jules as one of his hands massaged the temple on his head to relieve the incoming headache. He didn't want to ask anything anymore and he will just treat it as air quotes hypothetical.

"First of all, hypothetical or not, it is wrong to cheat on your partner. It should have never happened in the first place if a person truly loves their partner"Jules cleared.

An immediate frown graced Y/N's face as it confirms her earlier thoughts.

"However, there may be a reason as to why it happened. I have heard how some people had done it because they were drunk and did not know what they were doing. Others are actual serial cheaters who has done this several times. There are certain degrees of the crime and I think the next course of action should take it into account"Jules reasoned out.

Y/N remembered how Hanna mentioned that this just happened one time. It was just an extremely unfortunate situation that Sebastian knocked her up that one time they slept together. Jules explanation made valid points.

"If its one time?"

"Why not go talk about it and maybe they could work on it"Jules replied.

It was quite funny to even hear that suggestion. She never could have seen herself getting over the cheating incident so how could they work on it?

"Will things ever work with something as big as cheating?"Y/N questioned.

The driver just nods, "Yeah when you love someone. You can look past their biggest mistakes and flaws because you love them. Its why people tell us love makes us stupid at some point"

Love truly makes us stupid, a fitting sentence to embody Y/N right now.

"I think the best course of action is to hear what he has to say. If this is a one time thing then maybe you can forgive him and then you two can work this out. Or maybe you can take your time and not forgive him. Whatever works for you"Jules added.

"This is all a hypothetical situation remember"Y/N reminded.

A laughter comes out of Jules and he nods his head in agreement.

"Of course Y/N, everything is all hypothetical"

The two continued with their walk without a hitch. People are starting to enter and they made a good decision to head back to their respective garages.

"And this is my stop, thanks for a wonderful morning Jules"Y/N hugged Jules in front of the McLaren garage.

"Not a problem, you were a joy to walk with"

"Really even with the crying and all my hypothetical questions?"Y/N joked

"Yeah even then"Jules agreed " and I hope you aren't too troubled anymore next time we meet"

"I'll return your handkerchief then maybe you're the one needing it next time around"

The two waved goodbye to each other. Y/N reached out for her phone and she started to type. Her head was a bit clear now and maybe the talk with Jules gave her a bit of braveness to do this.

Y/N: Okay. I'll hear you out one time. Meet me after the race. You set the place.

#about you series #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #sebastian vettel angst #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fluff

147 notes · View notes