#through to achieve said situation but i can't help it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!+

[dokjaism]

anxiety works in such funny ways like why am i anxious over smth that isn't close to happening yet

[sadnymi]

Mastermind

[Mattheo riddle x reader]

Summary: Lady Whistledown and Gossip Girl [ Hogwarts Version] had taken the school by storm. Every week, spoken letters delivered the latest rumors, and things were getting out of control. Y/N had finally had enough, especially when the latest gossip claimed she was dating Mattheo Riddle. Frustrated and determined to put an end to it, she went to Mattheo, asking for his help in uncovering the person behind the relentless rumors and stopping them once and for all.

Words: 15k

Warnings : fluff, smut smut smut don’t read in public you have been warning , biker boy mattheo [yes a warning] , a little angst, fluff .

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨

**The Daily Whisperer: Hogwarts Edition**

_Issue #47: The Gossip of the Week_

Hogwarts is buzzing with the latest speculation surrounding two of our most enigmatic students. You guessed it—Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle.

Rumor has it that sparks are flying between these two, and if they aren't already an item, then Merlin’s beard, they definitely should be! A sighting in the library, some lingering glances in Potions class, and let’s not forget that mysterious detention they both just _happened_ to land in last week. Could this be the beginning of a legendary Hogwarts love story? But that's not all! This week’s flying letters brought us another sizzling scoop: Y/N was seen practicing dueling spells with Mattheo, and let's just say, the sparks were flying—literally. Could this be a sign of something more than just friendly competition? Stay tuned, dear readers. We’re on the case!

In other news, Y/N has been making waves not just in the rumor mill but in the academic arena as well. This ( whatever house you’re in, darling Y/N!) has been impressing professors and students alike with her spellwork and potions prowess. Is there anything she can't do? We'll keep you posted on her latest achievements and, of course, any further developments in her relationship status with a certain handsome Slytherin.

Until next time, keep your wands at the ready and your ears to the ground!

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

I could feel the heat of a hundred eyes on me as I stormed through the hallways, clutching the latest edition of "Hogwarts Whispers" in my hand. My anger was palpable, a tangible force pushing people aside as they gawked at me. As I turned a corner, a group of Hufflepuffs quickly scattered, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of my wrath. My anger flared hotter. Who had the nerve to spread such nonsense? And why did it have to be always about _me_?

Finally, I spotted him. Mattheo Riddle stood by the entrance to the Great Hall, casually leaning against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his dark hair falling effortlessly into place as he exchanged easy banter with his friends. Typical.

I marched up to him, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. His friends wisely took a step back as I approached, but he merely glanced over at me with that infuriating smirk of his, clearly amused by my arrival.

“Riddle,” I said, my voice clipped.

“Y/L/N,” he replied, raising an eyebrow in a way that made it impossible to tell if he was mocking me or just genuinely interested.

“We need to talk.”

His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We need to talk?”

I huffed in frustration. “You didn’t read what that freak wrote today?”

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face for any clue. “But does that have anything to do with why people are looking at us like we are about to say our vows?”

Resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway. “Come on.”

He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to have this conversation in front of the entire school. The last thing I needed was to give those gossipy little owls more fuel for their fire.

I could feel his gaze on me as we walked, his hand warm in mine, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I wondered if there was any truth to what they’d written.

But I shoved that thought aside as we reached a secluded corner. I had a bone to pick with him, and I wasn’t about to let a few stray butterflies distract me.

“What are we going to do about this?” I demanded as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else.

He just grinned, clearly unfazed. “What do you mean, Y/N? Sounds like we’re the hottest topic in school.”

My glare deepened. “This isn’t funny, Mattheo.”

“Maybe not.”

“This is absolute bullshit!” I fumed, waving the gossip letter around like it was cursed. “Why would anyone write this? Why is it always about me? Every. Single. Week!”

Mattheo leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with that maddening smile on his face. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, which only fueled my irritation further.

“And then they say I’m dating you?” I threw the letter on a desk, feeling my pulse racing. “Are they insane? Where do they even get this stuff?”

He chuckled, that deep, velvety sound that always seemed to get under my skin. “I’m trying so hard not to take that personally, princess.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Riddle.”

But he didn’t stop smiling, just kept leaning against the wall, looking at me like he was thoroughly enjoying the show. My frustration bubbled over. “Why are you so calm about this? This is serious! People are staring at us in the hallways! It’s like they’ve all got nothing better to do than imagine some ridiculous romance between us.”

“Well,” he drawled, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps toward me, “can you blame them? You’re not exactly easy to ignore, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “This isn’t funny. We need to find out who’s behind this, and you’re going to help me.”

Mattheo pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to me. "You want me to help you track down the identity of…" he paused, a playful glint in his eyes, "Madam Matchmaker?"

"Yes," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Would you do that?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I would never say no to my girlfriend."

"Shut up, Riddle." I stared at him, my heart skipping a beat despite the anger still boiling inside me. "I’m not your girlfriend," I insisted, my voice lacking the conviction I’d hoped for.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression smug. "That’s not what the whole school is saying."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the way his words sent a shiver down my spine. "Shut up, Riddle."

"Don't you see how ridiculous this is?" I asked, exasperated.

He tilted his head, still not breaking eye contact. "Oh, I see it, alright. But I've got to admit, I don't mind being linked to you, Y/N. It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you."

"Shut up, Riddle."

He laughed, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You know, if you keep telling me to shut up, I might just have to find another way to occupy my mouth."

"You… you’re —-!"

"And yet, here you are, asking me for help. You must like something about me, Y/N."

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I like the idea of you doing something useful for once. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

He straightened up, still smiling but with a more serious glint in his eyes. "Of course I’ll help you. But you owe me one."

"Fine," I grumbled, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

The next day, I stormed into the Great Hall, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment in my hand. I barely noticed the whispers that trailed behind me as I made a beeline for the Slytherin table, my eyes locking onto Mattheo, who was lounging back in his seat, looking completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around us.

I slammed the parchment down in front of him, making a few Slytherins glance over in curiosity.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s a list,” I said, taking a seat across from him and ignoring the way his friends were watching us with interest. “A list of suspects. I’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities, and we need to figure out who’s responsible.”

Mattheo’s eyes flicked to the parchment, then back to me, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”

I pointed to the first name on the list. “First, there’s Carla knight. She’s always had it out for me ever since that incident in Potions last year. You know, she’s been looking for a way to get back at me ever since, she’s petty enough to spread rumors, and she’s got the connections to get them published.”

“True,” Mattheo mused, leaning back in his chair. “But Carla’s too obvious, don’t you think? She’s not exactly subtle.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, moving on to the next name. “Then there’s John Gary. He’s always been the quiet type, but that just makes him more dangerous. He’s close to the source, and he’s smart enough to cover his tracks.”

Mattheo nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Interesting."

"What about Lavender Brown? She’s always gossiping, and she’s got this diary she carries around everywhere. What if she’s the one writing this stuff down and sending it off to ‘Hogwarts Whispers’?"

"Lavender’s a possibility," Mattheo admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine. "But she’s more into writing about her own love life than anyone else’s. I doubt she’d be focused enough to keep tabs on us."

I grumbled under my breath and tapped my quill against the parchment, staring at the remaining names. "Then who could it be? I’ve gone through almost everyone who’s likely to be involved in this kind of thing, and none of them make sense!"

Mattheo didn’t respond immediately, and I looked up to find him just staring at me, a small, almost secretive smile on his lips.

"What the hell are you doing? Were you even listening?" I demanded, feeling my frustration rise again.

His eyes flicked over my face, lingering on my lips for a moment before he finally spoke. "Oh, I was listening, princess. It’s just hard to focus when you’re looking so damn determined. It’s… distracting."

My heart did a little flip, but I shoved that feeling down and crossed my arms. "This is serious, Riddle. Someone is spreading lies about us, and you’re just sitting here, smirking like it’s all a joke."

He chuckled softly, his eyes still locked on mine. "I’m not laughing at you. I’m just appreciating how hard you’re trying to solve this little mystery. It’s kind of… sexy."

I felt my face heat up, but I wasn’t about to let him derail me. "Stop with the compliments, Mattheo. This is important."

"Sure."

"Shut up, Riddle. I’m serious."

"So am I," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat, his gaze still locked on mine. "But if you want to focus on this little mystery instead of the much more interesting topic of us, then go ahead."

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down my spine. "Fine. If you’re not going to help, then at least don’t make this harder than it already is."

Mattheo’s smirk grew as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know, Y/N, there are easier ways to spend time with me than concocting elaborate schemes to solve a mystery that might not even have a culprit."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged casually, his eyes never leaving mine. "Maybe someone’s just trying to push us together, and it’s working. Ever thought about that?"

"Shut up, Riddle," I snapped, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving mine. "Only if you make me."

I reached out to smack his arm. "Stop acting like that. This is serious!"

In a flash, Mattheo’s hand shot out, catching my wrist with a firm but gentle grip. His smile was both mischievous and reassuring as he looked at me. "Alright, but only because you’re so charming when you’re worked up."

I pulled my wrist free, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. "Just—stop distracting me. I need to figure out who’s behind this before it gets any worse."

Mattheo leaned back, still watching me with that unnerving mixture of amusement and interest. "Indeed, lead the way. I’m all ears."

For the rest of the week, I was on a mission. Every day, I dragged Mattheo around the school, from the library to the common rooms, and even to the less frequented corners of the castle. Despite his usual nonchalance, Mattheo followed along without question, his only response being that knowing smile he always seemed to have when he was around me.

We spent hours poring over potential suspects, analyzing their motives, and investigating their whereabouts. Each time I got frustrated or hit a dead end, Mattheo would patiently listen, never interrupting, and only offering occasional comments that were either strangely insightful or just plain distracting.

As we walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, I finally vented my frustrations. "This is ridiculous. I’ve talked to nearly everyone I can think of, and no one seems to know anything. It’s like we’re running in circles."

Mattheo’s hand brushed against mine as he walked beside me, and I could feel the warmth of his touch even through our robes. "Maybe you’re looking too hard. Sometimes, the answer isn’t in what people say but in what they don’t."

I sighed, feeling the weight of the week’s frustration pressing down on me. "I just don’t get it. Why would someone target me like this?"

He glanced at me, his expression softening. "Maybe they’re trying to get a reaction out of you."

His words, though comforting, did little to ease my worries. I shook my head and kept walking, the silence between us stretching as we turned another corner. "I don’t know how you manage to stay so calm about all this. I’m losing my mind trying to figure this out."

"You’re doing great."

"Thanks, Mattheo."

He flashed me a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Besides, it’s been… interesting, spending all this time with you. I’d say it’s been the highlight of my week."

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a wry smile. "Oh, is that so? I’m glad to be your highlight, Riddle."

He grinned, his usual mischievous glint in his eye. "You should be. And if you ever need me to be a distraction! again, just let me know."

" I hope not."

As we turned another corner in the castle, Mattheo suddenly stopped, his expression shifting from his usual playful smirk to something more serious. "Go on a date with me."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, leaning against the wall with that infuriatingly confident look on his face. "Let’s go on a date."

I blinked, trying to process his words. "Why would I—what are you even talking about? We’re supposed to be figuring out who’s spreading these rumors, not giving them more fuel for the fire!"

"Exactly," he replied smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we go on a date, we can see who’s watching us, who’s interested in what we’re doing. It’ll flush out the culprit. And with the weekend coming up, whoever’s behind this will be desperate for more gossip to spread. We’ll be able to figure it out, Y/N."

I shook my head, utterly incredulous. "Absolutely not. I’m not going on a date with you."

"Why not?" he asked, his smirk returning as he stepped closer, his presence as magnetic as ever. "It’s the perfect plan. We’ll be able to spot who’s paying too much attention to us."

"Because," I stammered, feeling my heart race as he closed the distance between us, "it’s ridiculous! You’re just trying to mess with me. I know you, Mattheo. You don’t actually care about solving this, you just want to—"

"Want to what?" he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. "Think about it, Y/N. We go out, see who’s watching, think of it as an experiment. A way to gather evidences. You like evidence, don’t you?"

"I’m not going on a date with you. I refuse to give these gossips exactly what they want. I’m not some pawn in their game, and I’m certainly not going to parade around with you just to see who’s got their eyes on us."

He just kept smiling, his eyes locked onto mine with that infuriatingly calm, knowing look. "You keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know it’s the best way to figure this out."

"No," I insisted, my voice rising slightly. "There’s no way I’m doing it. This is absurd, and I’m not falling for it. You’re just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" he echoed, taking another step closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "Shut up, Riddle."

He didn’t move, his smirk widening as his gaze held mine. "You tell me to shut up again, and I will kiss the fuck out of you, princess."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. "That’s the deal. You say it again, and I won’t hold back."

My face felt like it was on fire, and I could barely form a coherent thought as his words sank in. "You—you’re insane."

"Maybe," he replied, his voice low and full of intent. "But I always get what I want. And right now, what I want is to figure this out—with you."

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I tried to gather my thoughts. "This is ridiculous."

"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze still locked onto mine. "Or is it just that you’re afraid you might actually enjoy it?"

I stared at him, my mind spinning as I tried to come up with a response. But the truth was, I was too flustered to think straight. His confidence, his intensity—it was overwhelming.

"This is stupid," I muttered, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance.

"That’s not a ‘no’."

I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "But this is strictly for the sake of finding out who’s behind the rumors."

Mattheo’s grin widened. "Of course, princess. Strictly business."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep a lid on the flurry of emotions swirling inside me. "You have to behave, Riddle. No funny business, no flirting. Just… business."

"I’ll be on my best behavior."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge if he was being sincere or just playing me. "Somehow, I doubt that."

He chuckled, leaning in slightly saying in a mocking tone. "Your doubt wounds me, Y/N. My favorite thing to do is to be a good boy for you."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. "Sure, whatever you say."

"So," he continued, ignoring my skepticism, "tomorrow, then?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow."

Mattheo’s gaze softened, though his smirk remained firmly in place. "Don’t be nervous. And try not to think about me too much tonight."

I scoffed, giving him a withering look. "In your dreams, Riddle."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur. "Oh, believe me, darling. You’re in my dreams every night. But we’re not just talking in them."

My face burned as I smacked his arm again, harder this time. "I’m going to just kill you someday and stop the rumors you’re insufferable, you know that?"

He just laughed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "And yet, you keep coming back for more."

"I don’t have a choice," I shot back, starting to walk toward my dormitory with him following close behind.

"Ah, but you do," he said smoothly, keeping pace with me. "And you’re choosing to be here with me. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?"

I ignored him, focusing on the corridor ahead, even as I felt his gaze lingering on me.

We walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft and teasing. "You know, tomorrow’s going to be fun. You’ll see."

I rolled my eyes, still facing forward. "If by ‘fun’ you mean torturous, then sure."

Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the corridor, warm and rich. "Torturous for you, maybe. But for me? It’ll be heaven."

I stopped in front of my dormitory, turning to face him. "This is where we part ways."

He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "For now. But you know, you can always invite me in if you’re feeling lonely."

Pushing him away lightly I said. "Not a chance, Riddle."

He grinned, completely unfazed. "Worth a shot."

I gave him a look, and for once, he seemed to back down. "Alright, alright. Sleep well, Y/N. And try not to think too much about tomorrow. Or about me."

I slammed the door shut in his face, cutting off his words, but I could still hear his low chuckle from the other side. Then I leaned against the door, trying to steady my racing heart.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been on plenty of dates before, so why does this one feel different? I’ve had Quidditch players asking me out, and even the prince of Eldoria once tried his luck, but none of that made me feel as nervous as I am right now. And this isn’t even a real date. It’s just a… mission, right?

I stared at the mess of clothes strewn across my room, feeling utterly lost. Is this too much? Will I be overdressed if I wear it? Or is this too casual? And I can’t stop thinking about him—nope, we won’t do that. We won’t think about him or what he’s going to wear. Or not wear. No, absolutely not. We are not thinking about him without clothes. That can’t happen. I can’t stand Mattheo, right?

But why? Why can’t I stand him? I can’t remember anymore. Maybe it’s because he makes me feel so damn nervous? And I hate that. I hate losing control. I love having control over everything, and Merlin knows he wasn’t helping with that. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming, and I mean every single one.

I finally settled on a small black dress, letting my hair fall naturally around my shoulders. I added a touch of makeup and a simple necklace, convincing myself that I was doing this for me. It’s a good chance to get dressed up and look good—to myself, right? I always do. I’m a fashion icon, and I always dress well. Not for any certain someone with beautiful eyes and hair and a body that—nope, stop it, Y/N. We’re not going there.

I took a deep breath and walked out of my dorm, only to find Mattheo standing just outside my door, hand raised as if he was about to knock. He was dressed all in black, and oh, Merlin, that shirt was doing things to me.

His eyes slowly raking up and down my body. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was looking, and when his gaze finally reached my face, it lingered on my lips before meeting my eyes.

"Matching," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "You always wear black or gray, It’s hardly a coincidence Mattheo."

His smirk widened as he took a step closer. "Oh, baby, so you were trying to match with me?"

"What? Of course not!" I shot back, but my voice sounded less convincing than I would’ve liked. He laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I glared at him, crossing my arms. "If you don’t stop, I’m going back inside and forgetting about this so-called date,"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to focus on anything but you tonight."

I rolled my eyes again, though I could feel my cheeks heating up. "You’re so insufferable."

"And you’re so beautiful," he replied smoothly, taking my hand in his. "Now come on. Let’s get out of here."

I allowed him to lead me out of the castle, my heart pounding harder with every step. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I promise it’s something you’ll like."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you’re up to something, Riddle, I swear—"

"Oh, I’m definitely up to something," he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he glanced over at me, his eyes darkening slightly. "But I think you’ll enjoy it. Maybe even more than you expect."

My breath caught in my throat, and I tried to keep my voice steady. "You’re not fooling anyone, you know."

"Who said I was trying to fool you?" he shot back, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.

I tried to ignore the way his words made my pulse quicken. "You’re being annoyingly cryptic, you know that?"

"It’s part of my charm," he replied , his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. "And besides, it’s worth the suspense, don’t you think?"

I looked at him, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I think you’re enjoying this far too much."

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with a mischievous glint. "Oh, I am. But don’t pretend you aren’t, too."

As Mattheo led me down the dimly lit corridor, I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb was now tracing small circles on the back of my hand. The warmth of his touch sent shivers up my spine, and I fought to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.

My breath hitched slightly, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You’re really pushing it, Riddle."

"And you love it," he shot back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I pushed him away pretending to be annoyed it’s actually better to show him that I was so turned on. "Let’s just get this over with."

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to inject some firmness into my voice, though it came out softer than I intended.

Mattheo glanced at me, a slow, almost predatory smile spreading across his lips. “Patience, darling."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words got caught in my throat. The cool night air hit me like a wave, but it did little to quell the heat burning inside me.

“You look like you’re trying really hard not to think about what I’m going to do to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What… what are you talking about?”

He chuckled softly, pulling me closer until our bodies were nearly touching. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. About what it would feel like.”

My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the rush of heat that flooded my body at his words. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t letting him get to me like this. But when he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my hip, I could barely think straight.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, though it was clear even to me that I was lying.

“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been thinking about it. And the best part? So have I.”

I blinked up at him, trying to form a coherent response when he suddenly smirked and pointed behind me. “Relax, darling. I was talking about the ride I’m going to give you tonight.”

I followed his gaze and saw a sleek black motorcycle parked nearby. “Wait… what?” I breathed out, my heart still racing.

His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What were _you_ thinking about?”

“Nothing!” I shot back, far too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. He started walking toward the bike, and I followed, my steps hesitant.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the motorcycle as if it had personally offended me.

He looked at me with exaggerated innocence. “This? It’s a bike. You know, that thing with two wheels that goes vroom?”

I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. “I know exactly what it is. I’m asking why you’re near it.”

He leaned against the bike, looking far too smug for his own good."Because we’re taking it for a ride, obviously."

“Mattheo, you didn’t… Where did you even get this from?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He grinned mischievously. “Stole it.”

My eyes widened, and I took a step back, ready to bolt. But then he laughed, shaking his head. “Kidding, darling. Just get on.”

I stared at him for a moment, debating whether I should turn around and walk back inside. But something about the way he was looking at me—challenging, teasing—made me pause. I cursed under my breath and reluctantly walked over to the bike.

As I approached, I couldn’t help but curse myself for wearing a dress. Of all nights, why did I choose tonight to be impractical? I awkwardly tried to swing my leg over the bike, careful not to flash him.

“Need some help there?”

“I’ve got it,” I snapped, finally managing to get on the bike without embarrassing myself too much.

He turned to face me, and suddenly, he was so close I could feel his breath on my face. His hands reached up, and he gently placed a helmet on my head, securing the strap under my chin. The simple act was far more intimate than it had any right to be, and I found myself holding my breath.

“You might want to hold on to me,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.

I hesitated for a second, then wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my hands. “If you crash this thing, I’m killing you,” I muttered against his back.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.”

he started the bike, the engine roaring to life beneath us. I tightened my grip on him as we took off, the wind whipping through my hair. The cool night air rushed past us, but all I could focus on was the heat radiating from Mattheo’s body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he maneuvered the bike through the darkened streets.

“Enjoying yourself back there?” he called over the sound of the wind.

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Riddle.”

He laughed again, but there was a dark edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I am. But I can’t help but think about how good you feel pressed up against me.”

My cheeks burned, and I was grateful he couldn’t see my face. “Shut up, Mattheo.”

" careful baby remember our deal?"

“Mattheo—”

“ Yes,princess?"

" don’t open your mouth please."

He laughed " Why? You don’t like it when I talk about how your hands feel on me? Or how I can feel every little movement you make?”

“No—”

“Or maybe it’s the way you’re clinging to me right now,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more seductive. “Like you can’t get close enough. Like you don’t want this ride to end.”

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way his words were making my heart race even faster. He was doing this on purpose, and damn him, it was working.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” I shot back, but my voice lacked the bite I intended.

He slowed the bike down slightly, and I felt him lean back just enough to speak directly into my ear. “Too late for that, darling. You’re driving me crazy.”

My breath caught, and I tightened my grip on him, unsure if it was to steady myself or if it was because part of me wanted him to pull over.

“Mattheo…” I warned, but my voice was weak, trembling.

He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “Relax."

Every time he took a sharp turn or sped up, my grip on him tightened, and he would laugh softly, his voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You sure you’re not nervous?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, though my heart was racing for more reasons than just the speed of the bike.

“Good.”

As Mattheo slowed the bike to a stop, I looked around and felt a jolt of unease settle in my stomach. The area was dimly lit, with groups of people loitering around, looking like trouble. The girls wore little more than scraps of fabric, their heavy makeup making their eyes look like dark smudges in the faint light. The guys weren’t any better—tough, dangerous, and clearly up to no good.

I turned to Mattheo, my voice tinged with irritation and confusion. “What the hell, Mattheo?”

He smirked, swinging his leg off the bike. “What? I thought you’d appreciate something different from the fancy dates you’re used to. Oh, remind me again, where did Prince Edward take you to?”

“He didn’t,” I snapped back, dismounting the bike as gracefully as possible while trying to keep my dress in place. “Because I turned the date down.”

Mattheo’s grin widened, a mocking edge to it. “How bad for him.”

I rolled my eyes, glancing around nervously. “There’s no one from school here, right? I mean, how is the gossip mill going to work if they don’t notice us?”

He leaned against the bike, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, they won’t.”

“Excuse me?” I shot back, incredulous.

He laughed, shaking his head. “They’ll be more likely to be notice here than some fancy place, don’t you think?”

I frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Probably, yeah. Any normal person would feel so out of place here.”

I was about to step off the bike when I felt his hands suddenly on my hips, his grip firm. “No, not like that, princess.”

“What?” I managed to say, my voice coming out in a breathless whisper as he effortlessly swung off the bike first. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on my waist again and lifted me off the bike as if I weighed nothing.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to get a look at the show I had a minutes ago,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

My face flushed crimson, and I struggled to maintain my composure as his hands stayed on my waist, guiding me toward the entrance. His touch was possessive, almost claiming, and I couldn’t help the thrill that shot through me despite the chaotic surroundings.

“So, do I need to keep my wand close?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious as we neared the group.

Mattheo chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. “You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

As we walked through the crowd, people began to notice Mattheo, their eyes lighting up with recognition. A couple of guys came over, greeting him with casual nods and low murmurs.

“Riddle! Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” one of them said, a tall guy with a crooked grin.

Another guy came up, clapping Mattheo on the back. “Good to see you, mate. Thought you’d ditched us for good.”

“Nah,” Mattheo replied casually. “Just been busy.”

“Yeah, thought you were too good for us these days,” another chimed in, smirking.

Mattheo just shrugged, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “Can’t forget where I came from.”

Before I could process what that meant, a girl suddenly appeared, practically throwing herself at Mattheo. She had wild, dark hair and wore a top that could barely be called clothing. “Matty! I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she purred, her hands already trailing over his chest. Then, she noticed me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down, clearly sizing me up.

I met her gaze, lifting my chin defiantly as I looked her over. She was all beautiful and confidence, but something about her screamed desperate. I couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that flared in my chest. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a sneer. “Who’s this?” she asked Mattheo, her tone dripping with disdain.

Mattheo’s hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “She’s My girl,” he said simply, his voice cool and dismissive.

The girl’s eyes narrowed further as she gave me another once-over. I met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “Got a problem with that?” I asked, my tone sweet but laced with a clear challenge.

The girl hesitated for a moment, then forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “No, of course not,” she said, but her eyes were still cold. She turned back to Mattheo, trying to regain his attention. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Well, now you know,” I said firmly, stepping closer to Mattheo as if staking my claim.

She shot me one last glare before reluctantly backing off, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this one. I watched her go, feeling oddly victorious, even as my heart pounded in my chest.

Mattheo’s low chuckle drew my attention back to him, and I looked up to find him watching me with an amused glint in his eyes. “Jealous, are we?”

“Absolutely not,” I retorted, though my face was still flushed.

“Right,” he drawled, clearly not believing me.

Mattheo guided me through the throngs of people, his hand never leaving my waist as we made our way toward a secluded area. The crowd seemed to part for him, everyone stepping aside as if they knew better than to get in his way. He led me to a corner of the warehouse where a small, dimly lit bar was nestled. The area was quieter, more exclusive, with plush leather couches and a polished wooden bar that gave it an air of importance.

“This is where the VIPs hang out?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as we stepped into the area. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—a private sanctuary within the madness.

Mattheo smirked, pulling out a barstool for me before taking a seat himself. “You could say that. Only those who matter get to hang out here.”

I settled onto the stool, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “And I’m guessing you’re one of those people?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you think, Princess?”

“I think you like making a scene wherever you go,” I shot back, trying to keep my tone light despite the way my heart was racing.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

The bartender, a grizzled-looking man with a permanent scowl, approached us, his gaze flickering over me before settling on Mattheo.

“Riddle,” the bartender said in greeting, his voice gruff. “Been a while.”

“Hey, Greg,” Mattheo replied, his voice casual. “How’s business?”

Greg grunted, grabbing a glass and starting to mix a drink. “Same old, same old. You finally got yourself a date, eh?”

Mattheo chuckled, his hand still resting on my thigh. “Something like that.”

Greg's eyes flickered over to me again, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He took in my dress and my slightly flustered demeanor, a wry grin tugging at his mouth. “She's a fancy one, ain't she?” he commented, continuing to mix the drinks.

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Mattheo agreed, his hand caressing my thigh. “But she’s all mine.”

I suppressed a shiver at the touch, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as I shot Mattheo a glare. He just smirked in response.

"Noted." Greg set our drinks down in front of us, a shot of dark liquor for Mattheo and something orange and frothy for me. “On the house,” he said gruffly, before moving to serve other customers.

"Can you tell me why those people know you? And how the hell are you so well-known like a famous celebrity here?"

Mattheo takes a sip of his drink, a smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates my question. “I wouldn’t say famous, darling. But I’ve spent a lot of time here... Let’s just say I know my way around.”

I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “That’s not a real answer.”

He grins, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh, it's a perfectly real answer. You just don't like it.”

"And what about this girl?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

“That’s Layla. She’s part of this crowd… a regular here, I guess you could say.”

“And you… know her well?”

He shrugs, his hand going back to rest on my thigh. “We’ve crossed paths a few times, yeah.”

There’s something in his tone that makes me pause, a flicker of jealousy stirring in my chest.

He takes another sip of his drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”

I scowl at his non-answer. “You’re the one who keeps avoiding them.”

He lets out a soft laugh, his hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. “I just like seeing you get all worked up, princess.”

“So what’s your definition of crossing paths?” I ask, pressing him further.

He pauses, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Layla and I have... hooked up a few times. Nothing serious, just casual stuff.”

My heart sinks, a mix of jealousy and disappointment flickering inside me. I try to mask it, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered me.

“And what about now? Is she still in the picture?”

His hand tightens slightly on my thigh, and I feel him tense for a moment. Then he turns his head slightly, his lips almost brushing mine as he answers, “No, she’s not.”

“Good,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “because this whole act would be a lot less convincing if you were involved with more than one girl.”

Mattheo chuckles, the sound low and rich, as his fingers tighten their grip on my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. “And here I thought you were just in this for the show,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, more seductive.

“I am,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid thudding of my heart. “But even in an act, there are rules.”

“Rules, huh?” He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks, his breath warm against my skin. “And what are those rules, princess?”

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to close the distance between us. I need to stay in control, to remind myself that this is just an act. “Like keeping your hands to yourself,” I whisper, but the words come out more breathless than I intended.

He chuckles again, a dark, knowing sound. “But where’s the fun in that?”

His hand slides further up my thigh, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My pulse quickens, and I struggle to maintain my composure.

“We’re supposed to be pretending,” I manage to say, my voice betraying the strain of keeping up the facade.

“Are we?” His lips graze the corner of my mouth, his words a challenge, daring me to keep up the pretense.

I turn my head slightly, our noses nearly touching, my breath mingling with his. “Yes,” I whisper, but it’s clear neither of us believes it anymore.

“So, just an act?” he repeats, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

I nod, barely managing to keep my composure. “Just an act,” I reply, though the words feel like a lie.

He tilts his head, his lips dangerously close to mine. “But we might as well convince them, right?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that says he’s not playing anymore.

I should pull away, tell him no, remind him that this is all part of the charade. But I can’t. My resolve crumbles as I look into his eyes, the intensity there pulling me in, refusing to let go.

“Right,” I whisper, my voice betraying me.

Before I can take another breath, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. His lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. Then, his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and I gasped, giving him the opening he needed.

His tongue slipped inside, tasting and teasing, coaxing mine into a heated dance that left me dizzy. The kiss was all-consuming, each stroke of his tongue demanding a response that I couldn’t help but give. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a declaration, a promise of everything he could make me feel.

Mattheo’s hand slid up my back, pulling me closer until I was practically melting into him. He sucked on my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself pressing closer, needing more of him, of this.

“Good girl,” he murmured against my lips, the praise like gasoline to the fire already burning inside me. The words sent a rush of warmth straight to my core, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped my throat.

His hands were everywhere—on my hips, my waist, tracing the curve of my spine—as he guided me to straddle his lap. The shift in position made me acutely aware of the hardness pressing against me, a reminder of just how much he wanted this, wanted me.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark. His words were a drug, intoxicating and impossible to resist. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, a need so intense it was almost painful.

“Mattheo,” I breathed, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him to take more, to give more.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against my skin as his hands gripped my hips, guiding me to grind against him. The friction was maddening, each roll of my hips sending waves of pleasure through me that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a hunger that made my heart race.

“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rocked against him, desperate for more. His hands moved to my ass, squeezing as he guided my movements, his lips capturing mine again in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, primal, a clash of tongues and teeth that left me trembling in his arms.

“Good girl,” he repeated, his voice thick with desire as his hands slid under my dress, tracing the edges of my panties. “Such a good girl for me.” The praise was almost too much, his mouth was on mine, sending a fresh wave of heat through my body as I arched into him, needing him to do something, anything to relieve the ache between my thighs.

Reality crashed down on me like a cold wave, dousing the fire that had been raging between us. I was kissing Mattheo Riddle—not just kissing him, but grinding against him in a dark, dingy bar, losing control in a way that was so unlike me.

Breathless, I shook my head, my hands still resting on his chest, but I pushed him away just enough to create space between us. “We shouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the effort to regain control.

“Why not?” he murmured.

His hands remained on my hips, firm but not forceful, as if he knew I could—and might—pull away at any moment.

“It’s wrong,” I said, though even as the words left my mouth, they felt hollow. Wrong didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess of emotions inside me.

“It feels so right to me,” he countered, his voice low.

“That’s the problem,” I whispered, my resolve wavering as I felt the heat of his body so close to mine, the pull of his gaze making it almost impossible to think clearly. I was losing myself, losing the control I prided myself on, every time I was near him.

“Mattheo, I want to go,” I said, my voice firmer this time, though the longing in me betrayed how much I wanted to stay, to give in.

He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes as he stood up, his hand falling away from my thigh. He kept close to me as we made our way out of the bar, his presence a constant, protective shield, yet he didn’t touch me. And damn, I hated that—hated how much I wanted him to touch me, to feel his hands on me again, even as I knew I shouldn’t.

We reached his bike, and he stood between me and the prying eyes of anyone passing by, shielding me as I climbed on. He still didn’t touch me, and it was driving me insane, the absence of his touch making me crave it even more. I hated myself for it, for wanting him so badly that it was all I could think about.

He climbed on the bike in front of me, starting the engine with a low rumble. My hands automatically went to his waist, and as soon as I made contact, it was like an electric current shot through me. My mind was a mess, a chaotic whirl of thoughts and emotions, and my body—oh, my body—was screaming for more, for him.

I clenched my hands tighter around him, trying to focus, trying to breathe, but the tension inside me was unbearable. The battle raging within me, between what I wanted and what I knew was right, was tearing me apart.

“Stop, Mattheo,” I blurted out, my voice cutting through the night.

He didn’t respond at first, but I felt his body tense under my hands. “What?” he asked, his voice tight, uncertain.

“I said stop,” I repeated, louder this time, and he immediately pulled the bike over to the side of the road, the engine cutting off with a final, ominous growl.

We were on a dark, deserted forest road, the trees casting long, eerie shadows under the moonlight. I got off the bike quickly, putting distance between us, trying to get a grip on the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I walked a few steps away, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside me.

I turned around, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him, standing there, taking off his helmet. His eyes were on me, intense, questioning, filled with something that made my heart race all over again.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was running back to him, my resolve crumbling to dust. I crashed into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pulled him down to me, my lips finding his with a desperation I couldn’t control.

His response was immediate, his hands flying to my waist, gripping me tightly as he kissed me back with a fierce, raw passion that left me breathless. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own, devouring, claiming me in a way that made my knees weak.

He lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the bike with my back against the handlebars, my legs on either side of him as he stepped between them, his body pressing into mine. The cold metal of the bike contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the hard, unyielding surface beneath me a stark reminder of how exposed, how vulnerable I was.

But I didn’t care. I was beyond caring. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me, needing him to take away the ache that was consuming me from the inside out.

His hands roamed over me, possessive, claiming, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made me moan into his mouth. He was everywhere—his touch, his taste, his scent—overwhelming my senses until there was nothing left but him.

“Mattheo,” I breathed against his lips, my hands sliding up to cup his face, holding him to me as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into mine, dark and wild. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

“Then show me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, both a challenge and a plea.

And he did. His hands moved down to my hips, gripping me firmly as he pulled me closer, his lips descending on mine once more, claiming me, possessing me. The kiss was hard, demanding, every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sending shockwaves through me that left me breathless, trembling in his arms.

his hand tracing a teasing line down my side. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “If I were to slip my hand between those pretty thighs right now, would I find you soaking wet, princess?”

A shiver ran through me, his words setting my skin on fire.

“You’d have to do it to find out,” I whispered back, my voice shaky.

His hand slid down to my thigh, gripping it firmly as he pushed the fabric of my dress up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. The touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, dripping with praise that sent another rush of heat through me. His hand moved higher, inching closer to where I needed him most, but he took his time, teasing me, making me squirm against him.

When his fingers finally reached the edge of my panties, he paused, his eyes locking onto mine, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re already so wet for me,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he slid one finger along the slick fabric, barely touching me but enough to make my breath hitch.

I bit my lip, fighting back a moan as he continued to tease me, his finger tracing lazy circles over my clit through the thin fabric. The sensation was maddening, the light touch just enough to drive me crazy but not nearly enough to satisfy the aching need inside me.

“Let’s see how wet you really are,” he whispered, slipping his hand inside my panties, his fingers brushing against my slick folds. The contact was enough to make me moan, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it.

His finger slid along my slit, collecting my wetness before he pressed it against my clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had me arching into his touch, desperate for more. “You’re drenched,” he murmured, his voice laced with approval, his breath hot against my neck as he continued to work me over.

“Mattheo,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he curled his finger, finding that perfect spot that made me see stars. He added another finger, the stretch delicious as he pumped them in and out, his thumb brushing against my clit with every movement.

“Look at you princess.” he whispered, his voice a low growl as he continued to finger me, his pace steady and relentless. “You like knowing we’re still in public, don’t you, Y/N? That’s so unlike you….”

His words made my head spin, the combination of his dirty talk and the way his fingers worked me over was too much, too overwhelming. “Nothing I do when I’m with you is like me,” I admitted, my voice breathless as I bucked against his hand, craving more of the pleasure only he could give me. “But nothing has ever felt this good.”

He groaned at my confession, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had me seeing stars. “Good girl,” he praised again, his voice filled with pride and lust as he kissed me hard, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that left me breathless.

I kissed him back with equal fervor, losing myself in the feel of him, the way his fingers worked me over, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against my clit, his fingers curling inside me in just the right way, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me that made my entire body tremble.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against my lips, his fingers moving faster, harder, the wet sounds of his fingers working me over filling the dark, empty forest around us. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, princess? Come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

His words were my undoing, the praise and the dirty talk too much for me to handle. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as I shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that left me breathless, clinging to him for support as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

Mattheo didn’t stop, his fingers working me through my orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until I was nothing but a trembling, panting mess in his arms. He finally slowed his movements, gently pulling his fingers out of me and bringing them to his lips, his eyes locked onto mine as he licked them clean.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction as he pulled me in for another searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, letting me taste myself on him.

I kissed him back, my heart racing, my body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just done to me. I knew we were still out in the open, knew that anyone could have seen us, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel, the way he could break down every wall I’d ever built around myself with just a touch, a word, a kiss.

breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “Would you let me tease you, princess? Let me take my time driving you wild until you’re begging for me?”

His voice was dark, dripping with lust and promise, the words alone sending a shiver down my spine. I could only nod, still panting, my body trembling from the aftershocks of my release. The anticipation of what he was about to do had my heart racing, my breath catching in my throat.

He smirked at my response, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to spread my legs wider. I gasped as the cool air brushed against my heated core, my entire body thrumming with a desperate need for more.

Mattheo took his time, starting with a slow, deliberate kiss on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. His lips were soft, his tongue darting out to taste my skin as he worked his way up, inch by agonizing inch. Each kiss, each lick, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, making my thighs tremble in anticipation.

He alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing licks, his tongue tracing patterns up my inner thigh. The closer he got to where I wanted him most, the more my hips began to shift, desperate for him to end the torment. But he didn’t rush, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.

When he finally reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, his breath warm against my soaked folds. The anticipation was unbearable, every nerve in my body screaming for him to touch me, to give me the release I was so desperately craving.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement as he kissed the sensitive skin right beside where I ached for him most.

And then, without warning, his tongue was on me, the first long, slow lick sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as his tongue slid over my folds, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place.

He took his time, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, deliberate strokes of his tongue over my clit. Every touch was electric, every swirl of his tongue pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I was already so sensitive, still reeling from my first orgasm, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.

“Mattheo, please,” I gasped, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

He chuckled against me, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through me. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “I’m just getting started.”

He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub. The combination of his mouth and the steady rhythm of his tongue was driving me wild, the pleasure building so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

He kept at it, his tongue working in tandem with his lips, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs were trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure coiled tight in my belly, ready to snap.

And then he pushed me over the edge, his tongue curling around my clit in a way that made my vision go white. I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm tore through me, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.

He didn’t stop, didn’t give me a moment to recover as he continued to work me through my release, his tongue lapping up every bit of my arousal. The overstimulation was mind-blowing, each flick of his tongue sending another shockwave through my already oversensitive body.

“Mattheo,” I gasped, my voice raw from the intensity of it all. “I can’t—”

“Oh, but you can,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he continued his assault on my clit, his fingers sliding back inside me to curl against that spot that made me see stars. “You’re going to cum again, princess. I want to feel you fall apart for me one more time.”

I could barely form a coherent thought, my mind completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving me. I could only nod, my body already climbing toward that peak again, the intensity of it making my head spin.

He finally pulled away, his hands gently holding my thighs as I came down from the high, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. I was completely spent, my mind foggy with pleasure, but Mattheo just grinned up at me, his lips glistening with my arousal.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed my inner thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my skin. “I could do this all night.”

Tears of pleasure welled in my eyes as I reached for Mattheo, pulling him up to me. I could feel my makeup smeared, my face wet with tears that I knew had streaked down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, about the way his lips met mine in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender.

He kissed me with a hunger that matched my own, his hands cradling my face as if I were something precious, even as I reached down, my fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the heat radiating from him, and it only made me more desperate, more eager to feel all of him.

But then, to my surprise, he pulled back slightly, his hand catching mine. “No,” he murmured, his voice firm, but there was something in his tone that made me pause, that made me look up into his eyes, confused.

“What? Why?” I asked, my breath hitching, my heart pounding in my chest. The need in me was so overwhelming that I couldn’t understand why he would stop now, not when we were both so clearly on the edge.

He laughed softly, but it wasn’t mocking. It was low and full of a raw affection that sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned in and kissed me again, slow and deep, as if he were trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, his thumb brushing gently over my tear-streaked cheek.

“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more in this world than to bend you over this bike and take you right now, right here,” he whispered, and the words alone were enough to make my legs go weak.

“Then do it,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with both need and frustration. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment; I just wanted him.

But he shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine, his thumb still tracing the line of my cheek.

“No,” he repeated, and before I could protest, before I could beg, he continued, his voice soft but filled with a determination that left me breathless. “When I get to have you, Y/N, I want it to be when I can take my time, when I can make you feel everything I’ve been dying to give you. I don’t want to rush this, to take you in some dark forest where anyone could see. You deserve more than that, more than just a quick fuck.”

His words hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming in their sincerity, in the sheer weight of what he was saying. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. He wanted more than just my body; he wanted all of me, and he wanted it to be right.

I was speechless, my heart pounding so hard it hurt, and all I could do was stare at him, trying to process everything he had just said. “Mattheo…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he silenced me with another kiss, this one gentle, full of a tenderness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

"Not here, not like this. I want to take my time with you, princess. I want to feel every inch of you, taste every part of you, and make you mine in every possible way.”

I could only nod, tears slipping down my cheeks as I kissed him back, pouring all of my emotions into that kiss. I wanted him so badly it hurt, but I knew he was right. This—whatever it was between us—was more than just a physical need. It was something deeper, something that deserved to be treated with the care and attention he was promising.

We were supposed to be heading to class, but with Mattheo Riddle standing this close, logic and responsibility seemed to melt away. His lips were on mine, hot and insistent, and I could barely think straight. His hand was firmly on my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough, and I had to admit, I didn’t mind in the slightest.

In the back of my mind, I knew we were in a hallway, but everything else was a blur. All I could focus on was the way Mattheo’s lips moved against mine, the way his other hand slid up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. My eyes flew open, and Mattheo reacted instantly, pulling me into a nearby alcove and pressing a hand gently over my mouth. My heart raced, not from fear but from the thrill of almost being caught. I couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept onto my lips as I peeked up at him.

His eyes were locked onto mine, and he had that signature smirk of his as we both listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. The Ravenclaw group passed by, completely oblivious to our presence. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how close we had come to being caught.

As soon as they were out of sight, I grinned and grabbed his collar, yanking him back to me. “Where were we?” I asked, my voice playful as I pressed my lips to his once more. The taste of him was intoxicating, and I was already forgetting why we needed to stop.

His hands slid down my back, pulling me even closer, his lips moving hungrily against mine. “Right here,” he murmured between kisses. “Not going anywhere, princess.”

I laughed softly, feeling the thrill of the moment surge through me. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I teased, even as I kissed him deeper, not caring at all about the consequences.

“Worth it,” he breathed out, his lips trailing down to my collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You know, you could just skip class… stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I definitely don’t want to go to class right now.”

“Who says we have to?” he murmured, his voice low and tempting as he pressed another kiss to the corner of my mouth.

I sighed dramatically, feigning frustration. “You’re such a bad influence, Riddle.”

“And you’re such a willing participant, Y/L/N,” he shot back with a smirk, pulling me back in for another kiss. This time, it was even more heated, as if the idea of sneaking around had only fueled the fire between us.

But just as things were getting even more intense, a familiar voice interrupted us. “Oh, don’t mind me. Continue.”

We both pulled away quickly, turning to see Theo standing there, looking entirely too amused for my liking.

Mattheo sighed, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “Theo, mate, you’re my best friend. Can’t you find something better to do than being a cockblock?”

Theo crossed his arms, smirking. “And you two were supposed to be finding the person behind the gossip column, not making out in an empty hallway.”

At Theo's words, realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The Daily Prophet letter! It was supposed to be today! I spun around to face him. “Theo, did the letter arrive yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope, nothing. You might’ve scared them off for good.”

I frowned, trying to think straight despite the lingering heat in my body from Mattheo’s touch. “That’s strange… they’ve been so consistent."

Mattheo’s hand was still on my waist, his thumb brushing gently over my skin, and despite my worry, I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at his touch. I turned to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I should probably go so I won’t be late for class,” I said softly, though every part of me wanted to stay right here with him.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I can think of a few more ways to spend the time.”

I laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tempting, but I’ll save that for later.” With that, I pulled away from him, giving Theo a playful wave as I hurried off down the corridor.

As I walked away, I could hear Mattheo’s voice behind me, low and teasing. “You know, Theo, sometimes I think you take your job as a third wheel a little too seriously.”

Theo’s laughter echoed through the hallway as I turned the corner, already counting down the minutes until I could see Mattheo again.

I sat in class, staring blankly at the parchment in front of me, my quill lazily tracing random lines across the page. The absence of the Daily Gossip Letter today was unsettling, and I could feel the unease settling over the classroom like a heavy fog. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing—why hadn’t it come today? The letter had become a constant, its arrival as predictable as the sunrise, yet today, there was nothing.

As I absentmindedly doodled on my notebook, my mind began to wander, trying to piece together why the letter had stopped.

But why would it stop?

I tried to focus, to pay attention to the professor’s words, but my thoughts kept wandering. The gossip letter had become a staple at Hogwarts, a daily dose of scandal that everyone had come to expect. So why would it just… stop?

Unless… unless the person behind it didn’t need it anymore.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I started to think about all the things that had been written about me in that damned letter. The gossip wasn’t just random; it was targeted, specific. Almost like someone had a personal reason.

I started recalling all the gossip that had been written about me. My so-called date with Prince Edward, which wasn’t even a real date because I had turned him down. But when I returned to school, the letter had detailed everything about it—except the rejection part, of course. That happened privately, away from prying eyes. So how did the letter know about the date in the first place? Who else was in Italy at the same time as me?

My heart began to race as I straightened in my seat, my hand shaking slightly as I wrote down the names of the only two people who could have possibly known. The first name felt wrong, implausible, but the second… my stomach twisted as I scrawled it down.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My thoughts raced back to another piece of gossip—the one about me supposedly flirting with a Durmstrang student during the Yule Ball. The truth was, I had been trying to get information about a certain dark artifact that night, and the conversation had been strictly business. Yet the letter painted a completely different picture.

Again, I scribbled down the name. My hand tightened around the quill as I recalled another instance—Time when I helped Adrian Pucey sneak into the restricted section of the library. It was late at night, and we were careful not to get caught. But the letter described it in perfect detail, down to the exact time we were there. Who else knew?

The quill in my hand quivered as I wrote down the final name. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as all the clues finally came together, like pieces of a puzzle that I had been too blind to see. Every rumor, every piece of gossip, every little detail that had been written about me, led back to one person.

I circled the name angrily, feeling my heart break as I stared at the words on the page, the tears now spilling down my cheeks.

I didn’t care that the professor was calling my name, didn’t care about the shocked whispers that followed me as I bolted out of the classroom. All I could think about was finding him, confronting him. My feet carried me quickly down the corridors, my heart pounding in my chest as I headed toward the Great Hall. But when I got there, he wasn’t among the students milling about.

I clenched my fists, trying to think. Where would he be? Then it hit me—Quidditch practice. They had the last part of the day off.

Without another thought, I made my way to the Slytherin dorms. My mind was racing, anger and betrayal twisting in my chest as I reached his door. I didn’t hesitate as I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.

When the door opened, Mattheo’s surprised expression turned into a mischievous smirk as he leaned against the frame, eyes raking over me. “Y/N? What, you miss kissing me so much you had to skip class?” His tone was playful, teasing, and he stepped aside to let me in.

I ignored the flutter in my chest and walked past him into the room. The moment he saw my face, though, his smirk faded. He closed the door and turned to me, concern clouding his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, as he moved closer. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I sat down on his bed, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. His words echoed in my mind, the ones he’d said before about how the person behind the gossip letter must want to get a reaction out of me. I looked up at him, a cold smile curling my lips. "Well, was it good?"

Mattheo frowned, confusion crossing his features. “What are we talking about now, princess?”

“The reaction you got out of me,” I said, and just like that, the smile on my face vanished, replaced by the full weight of my anger and hurt. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

His face went blank, the confusion deepening in his eyes. “Wait, Y/N—”

“Checkmate, Riddle,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood up, the anger and hurt finally spilling over.

"You were the only one who knew about Italy, about what happened there. You were the one who was with me at the Yule Ball. You were there when Adrian and I sneaked into the library." My voice grew louder with each accusation, tears burning in my eyes. "All of those details, every single one of them—it was you. You were the one writing the gossip letter, weren’t you?"

Tears blurred my vision as I continued, my voice shaking with emotion. “Was it fun for you? Watching me losing my mind, seeing how much it effected me? Was it a game, Mattheo? Did you enjoy it? You said the person doing this wanted a reaction—well, congratulations, you got it. You got everything you wanted. I trusted you… I thought you cared, but you were just playing me all along.”

“You’ve been playing me this whole time, haven’t you? Feeding me lies, watching as I fell for every trap you set. And for what? A laugh? A good story?”

“Y/N, that’s not—” he started, but I cut him off.

“Save it,” I spat out, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “You’ve already won. I just wonder why you haven’t written your final story yet—it’s a good one. Especially the part where you—"

But before I could finish, he cut me off, his voice trembling with an emotion I hadn’t expected.

"What could I have done, Y/N? What could I have possibly done?" he began, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. "I was there, yes, I was right there with you—through all of it. But do you know why? Do you know why I couldn’t stay away?"

I froze, his words piercing through my anger like a knife. He continued, his voice thick with desperation. "I’ve loved you all this time, from the first day I got off that stupid train, from the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I can’t remember a single day where I haven’t been in love with you.

He paused, his eyes locked on mine, pleading for understanding. "It wasn’t just some stupid crush, Y/N. It was an obsession, it was madness—but it was love. I loved you, and I still love you. I was desperate… Desperate to be near you, to be a part of your life, even if it meant doing something as twisted as this."

I stood frozen."You could have just said that. You should have just told me that."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "Fucking right, Y/N."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"You had a damn prince crying after you rejected him," Mattheo snapped, his frustration and jealousy spilling over. "A prince, Y/N! And here I am, the son of a psychopath, the last person anyone should ever trust, much less love. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m in love with you, even though my father’s the Dark Lord and everyone expects me to be just like him’? Who the hell would ever want that?"

He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he continued, his voice strained. "Every day, I watched you. I saw you with your friends, with guys who could give you everything—everything. And the worst part? The worst fucking part was knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how close I got, it would never be enough. Not for someone like you."

Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time they weren’t from anger. "You don’t get it, Mattheo. None of that mattered to me. None of it. I didn’t care about titles or any of that. I just wanted someone who was real with me. Someone who saw me for who I am, not just as some piece in a game."

He stopped pacing and turned to me, his expression softening. "I did see you, Y/N. That’s why I did what I did. The letters… they were my way of being close to you, of being a part of your world. But I was so scared of losing you, of you finding out what I’d done, that I just kept digging myself deeper. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway."

His voice broke on the last word, and the sight of him standing there, so vulnerable, shattered the last of my defenses.

Just as I was about to respond, movement from the next bed caught my eye. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Enzo sitting up, looking between Mattheo and me with wide, startled eyes, propped up on his elbows.

He Clearly had heard more than enough. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got this thing—relationship phobia. Can’t be around emotional confessions, they give me hives." [p.s that’s the same Enzo from Down bad pray for him]

He awkwardly shuffled out of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, guys. Gonna get out of here real quick. Pretend I was never here, yeah?" With that, he practically bolted out of the room, leaving me staring after him in disbelief until the door clicked shut behind him.

This family is insane.

We both stood there in silence for a moment, the sudden interruption leaving us both a bit stunned. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like Mattheo didn’t either.

“Y/N,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking as he took a tentative step toward me. “Please… say something. Anything.”

“You hurt me, Mattheo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You lied to me, manipulated me."

“I know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. But Y/N, please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to keep you close.”

Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I wiped them away furiously, hating how vulnerable I felt in this moment. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why did you have to go through all this?”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice so quiet, so broken, that it made my chest ache. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to be close to you. I didn’t know how to tell you that I loved you without feeling like I was going to lose you.”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But you didn’t have to do it like this, Mattheo. You didn’t have to lie to me, to manipulate me, just to be close. I would’ve—” My voice broke, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. “I would’ve loved you anyway."

Mattheo's face softened, his brow furrowing in confusion as he whispered, "You would?" His voice was barely audible, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that had just left his lips.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer right away. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the walls I had built around myself beginning to crumble. Without a word, I got up from the bed and walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"Yeah," I finally said, my voice trembling as I stood in front of him. "Because it would’ve been easy, Mattheo."

His eyes searched mine, desperate and lost, as if he was trying to find the truth in my words.

"I’ve loved you," I began, my voice cracking, "from the moment I stepped off that stupid train, too love must have been in the air that day or something. But I couldn’t let myself admit it. Instead, I pushed you away, pretended I couldn’t stand you because I was terrified—terrified of how much I wanted you, how much I needed you." Tears spilled over, and I couldn’t stop them this time. They streamed down my face as I choked out the words I had been too afraid to say for so long. "I didn’t know how to deal with how much you consumed me, so I fought it. But it was always you, Mattheo. It was always you."

He moved closer, his hands gently cupping my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His touch was soft, so different from the way he usually carried himself—like he was afraid I might break if he wasn’t careful.

“I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I did. I do,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper as I leaned into his touch. “I just didn’t want to admit how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”

Mattheo’s forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin as he held me close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of raw vulnerability I’d never heard from him before. “I didn’t know how to show you what I felt without messing everything up. I was so afraid of losing you that I did the exact thing that could drive you away.”

I shook my head, trying to push away the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “I know,” I whispered, my hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I know now that the letters were more about admiring me than harming me. They only felt too much when another boy was involved, and… and I get it. I get that it was your twisted way of dealing with jealousy.”

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze intense but soft, as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost a breath. “I just didn’t know how to show it without screwing it up.”

“You don’t have to be perfect,” I told him, my voice shaky as I tried to make him understand. “You just have to be you. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Mattheo’s grip on me tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was like he was asking for permission, for forgiveness, and I gave it to him willingly, kissing him back with all the emotions I had kept bottled up for so long.

As the kiss deepened, I felt the last of my walls crumble, leaving me completely vulnerable in his arms. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I knew that despite everything, this was where I was meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other from here.

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with tears and longing.

“I love you to—”

The door suddenly burst open, and Blaise walked in, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. He froze for a moment, his gaze darting between the two of us, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Isn’t this cozy? I was just coming to grab a book, but it looks like I walked into the middle of a romance novel. Should I start narrating? ‘And in that moment, their love ignited like a house elf’s poorly managed kitchen fire…’”

I felt my face flush, and I quickly stepped back from Mattheo, wiping at my eyes. “Blaise, could you just…not?” Mattheo said .

Blaise chuckled, completely unfazed by Mattheo’s irritation. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, pretending I didn’t walk in on whatever _this_ is.” He waved his hand vaguely in our direction before sauntering over to the bookshelf.

I shot Mattheo a look, trying to stifle a laugh as Blaise exaggeratedly searched for his book, humming to himself like nothing unusual had happened.

Mattheo sighed, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m killing you after this.”

“Nuh,” Blaise called out, pulling a book from the shelf and turning back to us with a grin. “You love me.”

“Debatable,” Mattheo shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Blaise winked at me before heading toward the door. “Carry on with your dramatic declarations of love. I’ll leave you two to…whatever this is.” With that, he slipped out of the room, leaving us alone once more.

As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Mattheo looked down at me.

“Where were we?” he asked softly, pulling me back into his arms.

“I think you were about to tell me how much you love me,” I teased, my heart swelling with warmth.

“Right,” he whispered, his voice turning serious again as he leaned in to kiss me. “ Fuck yeah I love you. So much.”

[raguiras]

What's this?! Spade of Storms is canon in the game now?! /j

Finally finished this Spade of Storms WIP from early June 😅 Click for better quality!

Reblogs are very appreciated ~

「 Bonus versions & ship ramble below the cut! 」

♤ More Deuce x Allen: ♤

SHIP INTRO: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4

OTHER ART: 1

Ship blog: @spade-of-storms

♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

♤ Ship ramble ♤

There are many reasons why Allen and Deuce are perfect for each other (list), but a fair share of said reasons are rooted in or can be traced back to one massive, highly important core point: these two have extremely similar experiences in a reversed order.

Said experiences shaped their personalities, goals, insecurities and "masks" — all of which are highly important factors for Deuce and Allen's relationship development.

So today, I'll be talking about how their backstories influence Allen and Deuce's relationship.

Something I noticed is that if Spade of Storms weren't dating, they'd pretty much end up experiencing at least parts of each other's backstory... and end up in a super miserable state.

Allen is a former honor student who overworked himself to the point of burning out, all because he was a people pleaser and his stellar grades still weren't enough for his teachers who expected nothing but the absolute best from him. Additionally, he had to suppress his true self and interests because he was expected to be a model student in every single way, and anger was something only "bad" kids felt.

Sounds familiar? Deuce is unknowingly on the path to end up in the same situation, except in his case, the fact that he can't seem to achieve better grades no matter what causes him even more distress. If he actually ended up becoming a honor student, Deuce would experience a ton of additional pressure, not to mention that he's already struggling to hide the delinquent tendencies that are a fundamental part of his true personality... Sure, "honor student" sounds like a nice and admirable title to have — but the reality behind it is cruel, and Deuce isn't aware of that yet.

Which is why I gave him Allen.

A large part of Allen's trauma is rooted in his past as a honor student and the crushing expectations people (including himself) threw at him, and he desperately wants Deuce to watch out for himself and approach his goal of becoming a honor student carefully and logically rather than bite off more than he can chew and end up drowning in even more pressure, self-suppression and insecurities. Allen doesn't want Deuce to experience all the negative sides of being a honor student and instead supports the Heartslabyul student's goals by working towards them with a pace appropriate for Deuce, helping him study through actually unique methods specifically tailored for Deuce, and — most importantly — giving Deuce a safe and healthy environment where he can be his 100% authentic self and learn how to properly get his impulsiveness under control at the same time.

And the other way around? How does Deuce's past help Allen?

Deuce quit being a delinquent because it not only disappointed his mom, but also caused him a lot of trouble and massively stained his reputation. While Allen can handle his own delinquent tendencies just fine on the outside, his anger is actually much worse than Deuce's, not to mention that he has incredibly violent fantasies about the people he can't stand...

So far, Allen hasn't done anything bad. But Deuce, despite being a delinquent at heart himself, is able to calmly remind Allen to not do anything he might end up regretting or that might stain his reputation, especially since this is a major fear of Allen's. Deuce's worries and loving way manage to keep Allen in check, no matter how strong the Ramshackle student's hatred for society grows.

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎

Now, HOW exactly are they able to help each other grow? WHY did they form intimate levels of trust to begin with? And especially, why can Allen actually efficiently help Deuce in the first place when nobody else can?

All will be revealed in the next issue Spade of Storms explanation post >:)

[faithfulren]

field trip bonding

hey guyss! sorry i haven't been posting lately, i haven't had the motivation :((

during a school field trip to a hero agency, you and izuku midoriya get separated from the group. as you explore the agency together, you share your dreams and aspirations, forging a bond that brings you closer than ever.

----

the excitement in the air was palpable as your class arrived at the hero agency. this wasn't just any agency; it was the renowned agency of pro hero endeavor. you could feel your heart race with anticipation, and you knew you weren't the only one. your classmate, izuku midoriya, was practically vibrating with enthusiasm beside you.

"midoriya, this must be like a dream come true for you," you said, smiling at the green-haired boy.

izuku blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "y-yeah, it really is. i can't believe we're actually here!"

as your teacher began to lead the class through the agency, you found yourself lagging behind, mesmerized by the various hero memorabilia displayed in glass cases. izuku noticed and slowed his pace to match yours.

"look at this!" you exclaimed, pointing to a framed photograph of endeavor in action. "isn't it amazing?"

izuku nodded vigorously. "absolutely! endeavor's techniques are incredible. he's known for his relentless pursuit of justice and his intense training regimen."

you admired izuku's passion for heroes, which mirrored your own. the two of you continued to explore, occasionally stopping to marvel at the displays. it wasn't long before you realized the rest of the class had moved on without you.

"uh, midoriya?" you said, glancing around. "i think we might have lost the group."

izuku's eyes widened. "oh no! we should try to catch up."

you both quickened your pace, but the hallways of the agency were like a maze. despite your best efforts, you couldn't find your classmates. Instead of panicking, you decided to make the most of the situation.

"hey, why don't we explore a bit more?" you suggested. "we might find something interesting."

izuku hesitated but then nodded. "sure, let's do it."

as you wandered through the agency, you found yourselves in a training room filled with various exercise equipment and holographic simulation machines. izuku's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"wow, this is where the heroes train!" he exclaimed. "imagine how many heroes have honed their skills right here."

you smiled at his enthusiasm. "it's inspiring, isn't it? seeing all this makes me want to work even harder to achieve my dream."

izuku turned to you, curiosity evident in his gaze. "what's your dream?"

you took a deep breath, feeling a bit vulnerable but deciding to share anyway. "i want to be a hero who can make a difference in people's lives. someone who can bring hope to those who need it most."

izuku's expression softened. "that's a wonderful dream. i know you'll achieve it."

"thanks, midoriya. what about you? what's your dream?"

izuku's face lit up. "i want to be a hero like all might. someone who saves people with a smile, no matter the odds."

you felt a surge of admiration for him. "i believe you can do it. you have the heart of a hero."

izuku blushed at your words. "t-thank you. that means a lot."

just then, you heard footsteps approaching. your teacher appeared, looking relieved.

"there you two are! i've been looking everywhere for you. come on, let's get back to the group."

as you rejoined your classmates, you couldn't help but feel that something special had happened during your time alone with izuku. you had seen a side of him that few others had, and it made you appreciate him even more.

back on the bus, you sat next to izuku, and the two of you continued to chat about heroes, training, and your shared dreams. by the time you arrived back at school, you felt a deep connection with him that you knew would only grow stronger with time.

as you stepped off the bus, izuku turned to you with a shy smile. "thanks for today, y/n. i had a great time."

you smiled back, feeling your heart flutter. "me too, midoriya. maybe we can do something like this again, just the two of us."

izuku's eyes widened slightly before a soft blush spread across his cheeks. "i'd really like that."

you took a deep breath and gathered your courage. "so, how about this weekend? we could go to the new hero exhibit at the museum."

izuku's smile grew brighter. "it's a date."

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. "it's a date."

as you walked home together, you couldn't help but feel that this was the start of something truly special, a bond that would only grow stronger with time and shared dreams.

[straylightdream]

five long years

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x f.reader

↳ One bad fight leads to you breaking up. What happens when you can't stay away from the one person you truly love.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking, breaking up, angst, lots of crying and emotions, Chan is quite jealous in this. mention of a parent passing away before the story. Smut warning below the cut.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, creapie, kind of rougher sex, lots of break up sex.

Breaking up is never easy and you’re both aware of that. The problem with breaking up with someone you’re still madly in love with that you can’t seem to stay away from. Bang Chan the man who owns your heart and soul even though you know you believe you’re not meant to be together.

Five long years spent together. You saw each other through your highest highs. You celebrate job promotions and successes you’ve achieved together.Then there were the low moments. He held your hand through losing a parent, and held you through the countless nights you cried yourself to sleep. Laying in bed the day after finding out you lost your mother he held you close kissing away your tears, whispering over and over he loved you and would be there to hold you forever. You thought then at that moment that you would be with Chan for the rest of your life. To this day you still want to believe you stay together.

No matter how perfect it may have seemed, you fought. The fights started out as little arguments here and there but that changed. You started to fight too much, and it was draining. Chan was known for being stubborn, and the longer you were with him the more you fought for what you wanted. You didn’t lay down and just listened to him, but you were stubborn as well. What used to be little arguments here and there turned into screaming matches that ended with tears, and Chan storming out of your shared home. Many nights you would make up and promise to never fight again, but some fights were bigger than others. 

The last blow that ended your relationship four months ago was an ugly fight. Chan’s jealousy reared its ugly head, worse than it ever had before. He never was a fan of your friendship with Hyunjin. Hyunjin and you became friends in college and he was even a part of your friend group you shared with your fiancé. It took Chan awhile to warm up with Hyunjin once you started dating, but even once he warmed up to him you knew he never fully trusted him even though you never once had feelings for Hyunjin.

Chan and you got into a screaming match outside the bar where you were out celebrating Jisung’s birthday. According to your boyfriend Hyunjin shouldn’t have felt comfortable enough to rest his hand on your lower back as you were talking. You knew that the alcohol you had both been drinking wasn’t helping the situation at all. Emotions were high as your screaming match unfolded outside the club on a chilly fall night. With tears streaming down your face you called off your relationship and handed him back your engagement ring. You’ve never in your five years together had you seen Chan’s face change so quickly. The look of anger and jealousy, changed within a second to guilt. His dark eyes were brimming with tears as he stared at you completely shocked. Turning on your heels you quickly started to walk away. You pushed your way back into the bar with the attempts to get your purse so you could go back home. You couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck in this bar any longer. You just wanted to go home and cry yourself to sleep.

Grabbing your purse with tears streaming down your cheek, you said your goodbyes while brushing off everyone’s concerns. Stepping back outside before you could grab a cab, Chan grabbed your hand. He looked like a complete mess with his own cheeks stained with salty tears. “Don’t walk away,” he pleads. He sounds as if he’s barely holding himself together.

“We’re done, I can’t do this anymore,” you cry, pulling your hand away.

“No we can’t be. I love you too much for this to be over.”

“I love you, but I can’t do this.” Shaking your head you step away from him. How much you wanted to take him back you needed space desperately.

That night changed everything. You went back to your apartment you shared with Chan and he didn’t return home. He never actually fully returned home, he moved into Changbin’s guest room and packed up some of his stuff while you were at work two days later. From that terrible night on you felt like you had a Chan shaped hole in your heart.

There was a piece of you that believed that you weren’t actually done. That he was going to return to you and beg for you to fix things, but that didn’t happen. It was probably for the best that it didn’t. It took two weeks before you saw him again. He stopped by the apartment to grab some more clothes while you were home. He must have thought you wouldn’t be home since he came by in the middle of a Monday afternoon. He probably didn’t know that you had the day off from school to go to a doctor's appointment.

He searched through his side of the closet as you sat awkwardly on your bed. Your eyes were trained on him. You watched him as if he would disappear for forever if you looked away.

Packing away his last shirt he stood in front of you staring into your soft eyes. There is a long moment you just take in each other’s presence. You want to beg him to stay but you know you shouldn’t. 

“I still love you,” he says. You never thought you would actually get to hear him say those words again.

“I love you too.” 

Those four simple words from each of you led to you both naked with him hovering over you as his lips are attached to your. Kissing you like he needs you to breathe. In the moment you feel like you need him to breathe. With each touch of his lips against yours it feels like a rush of oxygen to your lungs.

He slowly slides into you, earning a gasp. Your hand is tangled in his dark curls holding him close to you. Your lips barely part. Sweet whispers of his name pass your lips between kisses. His hips move at a quick pace. Things between you feel different. You aren’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing. In the five years you’ve been together you’ve had all types of sex, but this is different. Things are rougher and more lust filled. Chan movements are those of a man starving for touch. 

Each of his movements feels like he’s trying to prove a point.

He pulls away from you and sits back on his knees as he thrust his hips into you at a firm and quick pace. His hands grip your hips bound to leave bruises in their wake. One of your hands grips your pale blue cotton sheets below you while the other reaches for him. You want to hold on to him and never let go. A warm wave rushes over you closing your eyes, your head tilts back moaning a mixture of his name and curse words. His movements don’t stop until he finds his own release moaning your name.

In the aftermath of naked bodies colliding you lay there on your back trying to come down from your high. Looking over you can feel his eyes burning into you. There is a screaming silence suddenly taking over the room. There is so much left unsaid between you. The room feels like it’s rapidly losing oxygen and you suddenly feel like crying.

“We’re not back together are we?” he rasps. There is a squeezing feeling taking over your chest. This “break up sex” did nothing but hurt both of you even more than you thought was possible.

“No we’re not,” you sigh knowing that sex just doesn’t magically fix things. There are a lot of problems you had at the end of your relationship, but your sexual chemistry and connection wasn’t one of them.

“Okay.” He’s clearly hurt and he has every right to be. 

Without saying another word he gets up and leaves. Even after your passion filled romp in a bed you used to share, you aren’t getting back together. You want him back but it’s for the best that you don’t get back together. The only problem is neither of you can seem to stay away from each other. 

What should have been a one time thing, doesn’t stay that way. Soon Chan finds his way back to your home you used to share often. The sex continues to feel different and after finishing he leaves each time. You wonder if keeping things at just sex will fill the void in your heart caused by your break up, but so far it hasn’t. 

-

Sitting in the teacher lounge at the large table you listen to your friend and fellow teacher talk about her latest date. You’re hardly paying attention, you’ve been staring at the most recent text you had received from Chan’s mom telling you Chan hasn’t been in contact with her. Since your break up he’s seemed to distance himself from everyone other than Changbin who he’s been living with since you broke up. 

Minho nudges you, catching your attention. Looking up at him he gives you that same sad smile he gives you quite often now. Minho is your best friend and coworker, he’s the only one you have truly confined in since your break up. You’ve been friends since your final year of college and he’s seen you in your happiest moments with your ex and the times you would call him crying after a fight. He’s one of the few people that know that you and Chan are broken up, but still sleeping together. Your friend group knows about your break up, but they all think that you and Chan aren’t even talking at all.

You wished no one really knew about your breakup, but it’s been a little hard to hide. Since that night in the club you can’t help but be sad and when you showed up at work not wearing your engagement ring, immediately all your fellow teachers knew that you and your fiancé had broken up.

“Why are you staring at your phone? Did he text you?” Minho would never say Chan’s name out loud at work. He didn’t want your coworkers gossiping about you and your ex. He knew you wanted to keep your relationship or whatever was going on with Chan private.

“His mom did. She hasn’t heard from him in a while, and she also asked me to take him back,” heavy sigh passes your lips. Chan’s mom took your breakup hard. She was like a mom to you and she to this day loves and adores you. This isn’t the first time she’s asked you to fix things with Chan, and it’s probably not the last. She’s always told you how much she loves you and how she believes you’re the perfect person for her son. After losing your own mother you truly bonded even more with Chan’s mom. She’s a wonderful woman who you knew really loved you.

You texted Chan, “hey can we possibly talk today?”

It takes him about ten minutes to respond, “yeah. Did you want me to come over?”

You know this isn’t a good idea. Literally anytime you ex fiancé ones over to your apartment you used to share it always leads to you having sex. Even though you know you should talk about your feelings and what is going on you know this always ends the same way.

“Yeah that would be good.” You text back. 

The rest of lunch went by in a blur. Your final two periods of the day you spent thinking about Chan. Since breaking up he seems to be on your mind more than he was when you were together. Maybe that's what happens when you break up with the person you thought was the one.

After work you cook yourself something small for dinner while waiting for Chan to come over. He said he would come over after he finished a track he was working on. Since the breakup he seems like he’s in the studio even more than before. Maybe that was his way of coping with your break up. 

There’s a knock on the door. You know it must be him. He still has his key to your home you used to share, but since your first time you slept together after your break up he always knocks on the door. It’s been months and it’s still weird to you that he has to knock to enter the apartment you once shared together. Opening the door you find Chan standing on the other side. He’s dressed in a hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“I didn’t think you would actually come over,” you step aside so he can come in. That’s a lie you knew he would come over.

“You asked me nicely, and we both know I can’t exactly say no to you.” He’s always said since when you first started dating many years ago it’s hard for him to say no to you. He always told you that’s how he knew you were the one.

He follows you off toward the living room. You plop down on the navy blue couch that you both picked out during an extremely long trip to ikea with you trying to find the perfect couch for your living room. There have been countless times you’ve made love on this couch or fallen asleep together watching a movie. He sits down on the couch next to you.

Sitting there silently you stare at his hands as he mess rubs his thumb along his knuckles. A nervous habit he’s had as long as you’ve known him. 

“So why did you ask for me to come over?” he asks, breaking the silence that’s formed between you. You know you guys really don’t make small talk anymore.

“Your mom is worried about you. She texted me asking me what’s going on,” you love his mother dearly, but you aren’t sure how much longer you can stay in contact with her at this point. All your conversations with her lead to her asking for you to work things out.

He groans and tilts his head back. You know him too well to know that he has something he wants to say, but this is his way of trying to push away whatever it is. “She’s hard to deal with these days,” he sighs. You don’t say anything, you just stare at him. “She only ever talks about you.”

You look away shaking your head. You wished it was easier that you could just say screw it and take back Chan, but you don’t know if all this would be worth getting your heart broken again.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh.

He reaches over resting his hand on your thigh. Your eyes lock on his cold ones. He doesn’t seem to have the same warmth behind his eyes he did when you were together. You swallow pushing away the thought eating away at your mind. You missed when you were together and you tried to tell yourself that this breakup was for the best.

“Just stop,” he sighs.

“Chan,” you sigh. This should be easier, but it’s not.

“I miss you,” he says with his eyes still locked on yours.

“I miss you too,” you sigh. You miss everything about the man sitting next to you, the only thing you don’t miss is the fighting. You miss all the happy moments you shared together but you don’t miss your fights.

Pushing away all the thoughts that told you this was a bad idea you leaned forward crashing your lips into his. You’ve fallen into the same routine you always do with him. You tell yourself over and over it’s best to stay away but somehow you end up craving his touch. Your lips move together and pull you onto his lap. With your knees resting on each side of his strong thighs. His lips move down your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. His lips know all the right places to touch have you moaning.

Your hips roll against his jean clad crotch. You feel his erection straining against his jeans with each movement. It doesn’t take long before he’s pushed his pants down to his thighs just enough to free himself and your panties are pushed to the side as he slides into you causing you to gasp.

Your forehead is pressed to his as you ride his length slowly. Your lips are parted as you silently moan with each movement. One of his hands grips your ass while the other is resting on the side of your neck. His thumb keeps brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck. He knows all the right places to touch you. He applies a little bit of pressure to your neck earning a moan from you. You aren’t sure if another man will ever understand your body like Chan does. His hand on his throat is intoxicating you. 

Tilting your head back you moan his name. Your fingers grip his shirt holding on for dear life as he pushes you closer to the edge. You ride his length showing him how desperate you are for him. His hand leaves your throat and your eyes open staring at his dark ones for a long moment. Leaning forward his presses his lips to the middle of your throat where his hand was not long ago. He presses a few open mouth kisses there before he kisses his way across the delicate skin across your neck.

“You feel so good,” he mumbles with his lips on your collarbone.

The feeling of Chan thrusting in and out of you is enough to drive you wild. From the moment you first had sex Chan made a point to understand everything about your body, and everything that made you tick. It took very little effort for him to learn all the ways to make you scream and fall apart because of him.

As the wave crashes over you and a warmth spreads across your body. You lean forward resting your forehead against his shoulder. Both his hands grip your hips moving you up and down his length. His pace has grown sloppy as he’s getting closer and closer to the edge. He pushes you down on his length leaving you resting on his thighs as he paints your walls white. Your head remains on his chest as he slowly drags his hand up and down your back.

“I love you,” he says barely loud enough for you to hear. You want to tell him you love him too, but you hold back. 

Pulling away from him you look at him for a long moment before leaning forward and pressing your lips to his for a soft kiss.

You know deep down inside you can’t keep this up. This whole situation is emotionally draining for both of you, and sooner than later you need to figure out if you should fully part ways or get back together.

-

Two weeks have passed and you haven’t spoken to Chan once. You can’t push away the empty feeling in your chest as you lay in bed staring at the spot in your bed that used to belong to Chan.

His soft words of “I love you,” still play in your mind. You wish you could have said those three words back to him, but you knew you couldn’t.

You thought when things ended between you it was for the better, but you can’t seem to push away the tugging feeling of an invisible string pulling you towards him.

In these long two weeks you’ve thought about your relationship with Chan nonstop. His voice always seems to echo in the back of your mind.

Grabbing your phone you opened your messages and clicked on his name. His last text to you from two days ago reads, “I miss you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond then. You type out, “Chan, can we please talk?”

He might not text you back, and in all honesty you wouldn’t blame him. You’ve practically ghosted him the last two weeks as you attempted to sort out your feelings. You thought a lot about your relationship with him, and what your future looks like with and without him.

Your phone lights up quickly with a message from Chan, “I can come over soon.”

Forcing yourself out of bed you get dressed and go into the kitchen and make two cups of coffee. A knock on the front door lets you know that Chan is here.

Opening the door he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, with a baseball hat.

He walks inside and follows you to the kitchen. You slide him a cup of coffee and watch as he takes a drink. He sits his cup down on the counter and takes his hat off, pushing his fingers through his dark curls. He looks tired like he hasn’t slept much, but he looks just as handsome as ever. From what Changbin has told you since you broke, according to him Chan’s sleep schedule is worse than ever.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, breaking the silence between you.

“YN?” He pauses.

“Yeah Chan?”

“Do you want an actual future with me?” His words are straight to the point. It’s clear he’s tired of playing games. You can’t blame him at all. This game is mentally exhausting. 

“Honestly yes.”

“How do we fix us?” He sighs, reaching forward and taking your hand in his. His thumb slowly drags over your knuckles just like he used to do when he was trying to comfort you.

“You can’t be jealous like you were,” your eyes are focused on him. “I need to stop being so stubborn with you. We need to work on communicating more.”

“I’ll try to push my jealousy away,” he says.

“We can’t just jump back into how things were,” you know you can’t go back to being engaged again suddenly. “We need to rebuild before we can think about getting married.”

“Okay, should we try dating again?” he asks.

“Like starting all the way back at stage one?” you can’t help but smile thinking back to your first few dates with him five years ago.

“I would prefer we aren’t all the way back at stage one, because I still want to marry you,” he rests his hand on your cheek.

“I still want to marry you, but we need to rebuild before we think about planning a wedding,” you’re trying to think logically. You just spent months broken up. Suddenly things aren’t fixed and perfect. Even though your heart desperately wants to marry him tomorrow you need to think logically and work on communicating more. 

“Okay.” he says softly with his hand still resting on your cheek.

“Okay.”

“I just need you in my life. There is something that keeps me drawn to you. I haven’t ever loved anyone like I love you,” he leans forward pressing his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

“I love you too,” you sigh, pulling your lips away from his.

“Okay, can I move back in?” he asks, sounding so unsure.

A smile tugs on yours as you step closer to him. He pulls you into his chest before you can even say anything.

“Yeah. We need to rebuild, but I miss you being here. I hate waking up alone.”

It’s not long before you’re both in your shared bed, and completely naked. Chan rests between your spread legs slowly rolling his hips into yours as your fingers are locked in his dark hair holding him close to you. His lips hover overs yours as you moan his name like a prayer. One of your legs is resting on his lower back right above his butt. You want him as close to you as possible. You don’t want to ever experience losing him again. Your hand claws at his back trying to touch every part of him you can. 

“I love you,” you say.

His hips still for a moment and he looks down at you smiling. Leaning forward he presses his lip to the tip of your nose gently. “I love you so much.”

His hips move into yours at a slow but steady pace. You missed the feeling of having every part of him, his mind, body and soul. 

You find your release moaning his name and whisper over and over again that you love him.

Things aren’t perfect between you, but you both desperately love each other and know your own faults and want to fix them. Both only see a future together and you both know that love is never easy and sometimes you have to fight to make it work.

Regarding taglist: 

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing. 

[adripakoffee]

Hold on and let me yap about my goat Swansea rq (not rq, this is almost 2k words lol)

CW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS

I'm gonna use "probably" and "most likely" a lot in this because so much of this game is from Jimmy's perspective and he dgaf about Swansea until close to the end.

Okay, so Swansea is first and foremost, a very tired, very ragged mechanic who's probably pushing 60. He doesn't want to be on that ship. He doesn't want anything. He wants, at least at first, to just be done with this job and get paid. He respects Curly but he's annoyed by and dismissive of everyone else on the ship, especially Daisuke.

So much of Swansea's character is reliant on and paralleled to his relationship with Daisuke. When he meets Daisuke, Daisuke is happy and optimistic. He looks forward to things and tries to impress Swansea when Swansea doesn't want help.

The main reason Swansea doesn't like Daisuke ties into his alcohol abuse. Daisuke is always, at almost every point we see him pre Anya locking herself in medical, happy and energetic. Swansea hates this about him because that's a state of being he hasn't achieved, in his own words, in 15 years. He can't imagine being that happy while sober and it pisses him off. He's half jealous because of that and half jealous because Daisuke is young and has a long life ahead of him. Swansea does not like the life he built for himself while sober, but that's for later. Especially after they get laid off, the only one who has anything ahead of them was Daisuke. Swansea would have trouble getting another job both because of his age and because a lot of things on Earth were being automated.

Of course, after the crash, that jealousy becomes something else. Because Daisuke is the only one who has anything ahead of them, he's the only one whose life matters. Swansea loves his family, but he doesn't really like them. He's most likely worked with Pony Express the longest, so he knows they most likely won't be saved. They have one chance left, one cryopod for one person. He's saving it for Daisuke because Daisuke is only one with a chance.

Now bringing up Anya. I think it was 2 months in when Anya told him about Jimmy. Here I'd like to correct some things I said in other posts. In my Anya rant I said "He has the one last working cryo pod set aside for her specifically and refuses to let anyone into the room where it is." He felt bad for her, no doubt, but he probably doesn't actually do that. He, more likely, tells her "Hey, there's actually a crypod left. I'm saving it for Daisuke. It's not like either of us have things waiting on the other side of this." Swansea isn't responsible for Anya in the way Curly was. He respects her well enough as coworkers but they're not at all close. He doesn't feel any real need to put her in priority, especially with the dire situation at hand. I don't think he doesn't care, it's just not something he sees in his jurisdiction. And I'm not saying there's nothing he could've done. Had literally anyone at any point in the game killed Jimmy, a lot of problems would be fixed. But, unlike Curly, Swansea doesn't have as many options.

When they open the cargo hold and he starts drinking again, he rediscovers happiness. I'd actually like to apologize for something quickly. I made a short comic in which Swansea comforts Anya after she tells him about Jimmy (which he doesn't actually do, smh bro) and in the caption I had said "I love you sm Swansea I wish you weren't an alcoholic 😔" (It's also my most popular fanart on here and I'm very thankful for that ^^)

I don't blame Swansea for his alcoholism. It's an addiction just as much as anything else and no one should have to go through that. I personally though have had bad experiences with alcoholics and I'm generally uncomfortable around them. I definitely worded that caption poorly and I apologize for that, but I had meant it in an "I wish you were sober" way. I know that the caption had rubbed people the wrong way, so I wanted to apologize.

So Swansea is drunk and happy for the first time in fifteen years. Despite his intoxicated state, he still has his one goal and that's to save the last cryopod for Daisuke. He knows that's what he wants and he sticks to it. It's just him and the ax against the world. Eventually, Jimmy takes the ax to get the extra painkillers and the ax kinda just disappears for a while. Like I have no idea where it went but Swansea has it again by the time he offs Daisuke.

Speaking of which, Swansea kills Daisuke. Framing-wise it's probably my favorite scene in the game, like the breathing and Swansea's speech. Chat, I love this scene. Anyways, Jimmy offers Swansea a drink as a "peace offering." Swansea is never sober at this point in the game but even he can appreciate a good cocktail, especially when he's been slogging mouthwash for months. Honestly, he doesn't trust Jimmy like AT ALL at this point, but Daisuke helped him with the cocktail.

Swansea is kinda putting his hopes in Daisuke. Like obviously, he's placing hope in Daisuke's survival, but I think he's also seeing this optimistic, bright-eyed kid who's struggling as himself at the start of his sobrity. Daisuke said that the reason he got this job was because he was directionless in life. He had nothing to look forward to and no goals. The difference between him and Swansea is Daisuke's parents got the job for him and Swansea had to do it himself. So in that way he started to appreciate how happy Daisuke was, which is more reason to hate that he's there.

Swansea passes out from the cocktail and when he wakes up Anya is dead and Daisuke is in critical condition. Anya's gone which means they're out of a medic so that makes Daisuke's situation a lot worse. But because Jimmy used the Isopropyl to knock out Swansea, they're out of disinfectant. They have to use mouthwash which is established early on to have too much sugar to be disinfectant. So they kinda made it worse because Swansea and Jimmy are idiots who didn't listen to Anya. After a few hours of Daisuke slowly bleeding out, Swansea mercy kills him. it. looks. so. cool. During this speech, Swansea says something along the lines of "Stick a kid with a bunch of sad-sack adults and see what he learns. Bootstraps and all that." He really hates that Daisuke is here, it's just that the reason has changed. Before the crash, Curly and Daisuke were the only two who weren't like clinically depressed. After the crash, only Daisuke can find it in himself to stay optimistic, but even his faith is dwindling (Jimmy is optimistic too, but that's because he's crazy).

Right after that, he chases Jimmy around with the ax until Jimmy ties him up and shoots him. This is when Swansea lore drops about himself. He explains that he literally has not been happy or enjoyed his life in 15 years. He's done everything he's supposed to when it comes to leading a good, healthy life, but it's not at all fulfilling. He hates his job, he doesn't look forward to seeing his family, he just killed the last speck of joy on this metal space coffin, and he has nothing to live for. He's already fallen back into addiction so even if he got back to Earth, he'd ruin his life all over again. He'd be happy, but his life would be ruined. And then Jimmy shoots him.

Now here's a little health fact! Swansea was dying the whole game. People suffering from alcohol abuse often end up drinking Listerine when other alcoholic drinks aren't available. Now I'm just speculating and projecting, but Swansea is definitely a beer guy, that's his go-to. His tolerance suggests he was a craft kinda guy (which has an ABV between 5 and 10% (idk this is from memory)) or someone who drank a lot really quickly, but the mouthwash was 14% ethanol. That, in and of itself isn't the main problem, though it is noteworthy that he was already drinking more than usual. The main problem is that drinking mouthwash will absolutely destroy your stomach and intestinal linings. Mouthwash isn't just alcohol and flavoring, there's other chemicals in it too. On a good day, you'll get a nasty stomach ache, but you'll live. One to many though, and you are dead or in a coma. Like no joke that will kill you, especially if you drink a lot of it in such a short amount of time. That's why they keep saying "that stuff will kill you before anything else will," because it's actively killing them. Swansea probably knew this but he's prone to self-destruction so he probably didn't care. Anyway, hope you enjoyed that little health fact, I love reading medical journals ask me anything.

While writing this, I paused and started scrolling on tiktok and I saw a video where someone was complaining about the sudden villainization of Swansea in the fandom. I've literally seen nothing like this, but in the video they said one of the critiques people had of Swansea was that he was just as bad as Curly for not doing anything about Jimmy. That's insane, that is a batshit crazy take and I rebuke it. For one, Swansea was never Jim's friend. He never set people up to be victimized by Jimmy, he never enabled Jimmy's behavior or tried to comfort him when he was the problem. This was just a crazy thing to say, please learn to comprehend thing beyond the main text.

Um.. uh... conclusion paragraph, I love Swansea and I love to pretend he was more proactive against Jimmy for Anya's sake, but he wasn't so it's whatever he's not real anyway. I feel like this ended up being really long, like longer than the other two but idk.

Here's the link to the Anya rant and the Curly rants I also did, that I should probably edit upon further reflection

[a-d-nox]

nox tests hypotheses: "saturn tells you what annoys you"

this is one of shawtyherbs hypotheses. this is how i feel this manifests for me in my chart and why i believe this hypothesis works. my saturn is located in my 3h, in taurus at 29°... let's take deep dive!

taurus saturn

a lack of discipline: i feel like i have a strong work ethic - i value hard work. i despised when i did group work in school and i was paired up with procrastinators or people who were unwilling to put in the necessary effort to achieve a good grade. it felt like every time i had my part done i would start getting anxious that the other person/people didn't. it felt like a manipulation - like we were playing chicken. if they didn't do it, would i do it for them? how long did they have to wait until i stepped in?

instability and unpredictability: sudden changes, chaotic environments, and erratic behavior can make me uncomfortable, anxious, and annoyed. i guess it's sort of like a trauma response from childhood except now i get irritable... everyone know my dislike for surprises.

wastefulness: i get easily irritated by wastefulness, whether it's wasting time, money, or resources. again maybe its from my childhood and having those experiences. but i am the type of person who arrives on time. if i buy something and don't like it i use it until it's gone, i eat it til its gone (even if its stale), or i use it til its paid itself off (if i buy a shirt and can't return it and it was $30, i am wearing it 30 times). it sounds strange - i know - but it is how i am...

superficiality: i really value authenticity. i feel like i am easily annoyed by superficial behavior, materialism without substance, and people who put on mask to fit in... like so what if you don't laugh at someone's shit joke, so what if i am happy with my hydroflask and want nothing to do with a stanley (it's all the same to me), and who cares if your true self is not everyone's favorite (you'll find your people a whole lot faster if you're your self).

resisting practicality: you know how much advice i have given throughout the years THAT WAS ASKED FOR and people did what they wanted anyway??? why even waste my time if you don't want outside perspective. or something its just kind advice to help with ease like hi you are using a stain on the deck, i recommend you wipe as you go so it dries quicker and you don't accidentally smear/smudge later. but nooooo.....

saturn at 29°

arrogance: you know it's okay to be wrong... it's not okay to pontificate about how you were right in some alternate scenario. just admit you were wrong in this situation and move on or better yet say nothing...

irresponsibility: when you say you are going to do something do it. if you are a leader then lead and know that you are responsible for anything you designate to someone you view as your subordinate (especially when you don't train them on what you want them to do for you). if you can't commit to having a task or being in charge than don't do it. someone is relying on you - it's 10 times worse when its yourself and you push goals to the side.

unfounded claims/criticisms: perhaps i am overly sensitive to criticism because i tend to take my work and my self a bit too seriously. but if you can't take yourself and what you do seriously, then who will? i take everything personally too. so when i get criticism and its said in a nasty way (at least how i interpret it) or there is a lack of explanation or no backing i will get annoyed. you bet my humor will be ill-tempered... you can't expect me to react well to a comment like "you're wrong". like wow okay so detailed, i'm glad you decided to write one word and a contraction to dismiss my 2k essay. like if you are going to criticize me or disprove me make it detailed and make it sound. and if i do something wrong its probably because no one told me how to do it in the first place (cough cough work) so don't snap at me, walk me through it.

lack of respect: now listen - i'm no angel, i was a teenager once - eyerolls and all. but now that i am a bit older (she said at 23) i am getting to the point where respect isn't freely given (unless its to build a good first impression) but instead its earned in a pre-existing relationship. i don't tolerate disrespect, no one is going to snap at me and tell me what to do. you do that and you will get the opposite reaction that you expect from me (speaking from real life situations). asserting dominance doesn't make you worthy of respect, it makes you a bully.

3h

superficial conversations: i said it why back when in one of my get to know me posts. i prefer deep, meaningful conversations and i find small talk / superficial chatter frustrating or pointless. like skip to the meat bruv - we don't have all this time for "hi how are you?" "good how are you?"

disorganization: a lack of structure, whether in communication, in a learning environments, or my daily routines, irritates me. i feel like it effects me most in the routine bit. weekends are my prime culprit because my schedule falls apart. during the week my meals and tasks are standardized, but on the weekend, i somehow manage to always get annoyed because i eat lunch late or what i had in my mind to do gets tossed aside...

gossip/rumors: i feel uncomfortable with gossip, i prefer facts and reliable knowledge. which i know facts seems shaky when i am posting the content i do... but generally facts over fiction in conversations. gossip and the like almost always gets me in trouble - i struggle with holding my tongue especially when i see someone regularly who has been gossiped about frequently. withholding information is a form of lying in my opinion - and lying makes me extremely uncomfortable.

impulsive decisions: i am trying to get better about this because i tend to carefully deliberate everything. but i don't like when others around me make impulsive decisions that effect me because it ruins the plan i already had in my mind. for example, last weekend i wanted to go to an all day fall festival with my mother (and yes i told her tuesday my plan) but last minute my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend said he needed her help with a project and it was going to be an all weekend thing. so friday night my plan went out the window. so quickly had to make a new plan consisting of paid readings, trader joe's, and shampooing my couch (fun stuff i know...).

a lack of respect for rules/boundaries: a disregard for social norms, etiquette, and established rules of communication annoys me so badly. like it is common courtesy (at least for how i was raised) to call or write in advance of stopping over at someone's house. my mother's boyfriend-not-boyfriend is the biggest perpetrator of this behavior. they aren't technically dating anymore so hello hi in my opinion he should be giving us a heads up if he will be stopping over. also switching gears when i say "no" or "i don't want to" i feel like a lot of people around me push me and test me to see if i will change my tune. i don't appreciate that in the slightest. i make clear boundaries in all the relationships i have (even here i have guidelines) - so yes, you bet i get frustrated when i vocalized or wrote my boundaries and yet they get ignored.

do you have a hypothesis you want me to test? or perhaps you want me to build a hypothesis for something you've been wondering about where astrology is concerned? please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see it happen!

click here for the masterlist

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[joshusten]

kiss and make up

In which Honey wants a makeover and Guy gladly helps. (lots of kisses, fluff, makeover time!!!)

2.7k+ words [ao3 will be added when im not lazy lmao] [masterlist]

[CW and notes: typical guy innuendoes, honey doesn't know how to do makeup and they get a lil insecure about that fact, that being said i'm not really a makeup expert too LMAO, theres also lots of grammar mistakes probably ;--; and since like, makeup styles and visuals vary between people i tried to make it as vague and gender neutral as possible but idk if i really achieved that so keep that in mind and please let me know if i should change some wordings etc. ! oh and lmk about typos too hehe tysm!]

thank you so so much to my dearest friend @slushiepizza !! this wip is literally a year long and they've been a HUGE HUGE (x1000) help to me finishing (and convincing to post) this fic!! this fic's also inspired by fanart they made before and this yt short from that one anthony padilla interview. also yes theres a lil 2024 hbs guy AAAND jin (his gamer friend in that second hoodie video i think) reference too lmao HAHAHAH hope you enjoy!! :D "Ugh! Why can't I fucking–" 

“Piece of—!”

“Fuck!”

Another frustrated groan cuts Honey off. For the past few minutes, Guy had been hearing his partner's muffled frustrations from their room all the way to their humble kitchenette and he was seriously starting to get worried about what could possibly be troubling their usually well-composed lover.

He quickly turned off the stove, wiping his hands on the piercingly hot pink apron with the words "Please Do More than Kiss the Chef" embroidered on its body (a joke gift, courtesy of Rosa being his Secret Santa last year, that Guy legitimately used in his every day, much to his friend’s amusement). Fortunately, the lunch he was making was done by the time he decided to check up on them (and, really, it was just a simple one-pot pasta recipe he stumbled on Tiktok at 3 AM.)

Guy haphazardly hung the apron by a chair nearby—future Guy can worry about all of the mess later—and made his way to the hallway that led to their small shared bedroom.

He gently knocked a little melody on the door,  announcing his presence through the painted wood. "Honey?”

A thump was heard, as if something suddenly dropped out of surprise, followed by a faint “Shit!”

The man knocked again, this time with a furrowed brow.

“Honey dearest? Lover of mine? Is someone botherin’ you? Need to kick someone’s ass?” He joked, clearing his throat afterward for a more sincere tone. “But for real, do you need any help there, baby?”

The silence that followed almost tempted Guy to ask again before a loud sigh came from the other side.

"Yeah…It's unlocked. You can come in..." 

They almost sounded embarrassed. A little shy even. The man couldn’t help but grin at how comfortable Honey had become showing him their more vulnerable sides throughout their time together. 

Guy opened the door slowly to reveal their usual semi-tidy bedroom save for the mess that seemed only to be contained around Honey, whose head was currently hanging low in shame. Alarms went off in his mind once he processed the potential severity of the situation with how distressed his partner looked.

He rushed to where Honey sat, in front of the vanity where a variety of make-up products were strewn across the dark oak wood. Upon closer inspection, he could see that—

Oh. Uhm. This was interesting.

His partner’s frustrated face seemed to be an amalgamation of different cosmetics that looked like they were hastily smeared on and rubbed off multiple times. 

Patchy foundation, unblended blush, shaky eyeliner. 

Guy can practically feel the heat coming off their tinted face, furrowing their brows and averting their glare to the side.

“Look, I know what this looks like but—" Honey was never able to finish their sentence as a very, very poor attempt of stifled giggles reached their burning ears. Oh my god, he's never gonna let them live this down, is he? 

“Guy.”

“Wh-whaaaat? N-no, you look f-fine Honey! Pfft–” A snort interrupted the man's words of reassurance. 

“Guy, stop laughing, you asshole!” They groaned, sending a flurry of light slaps to Guy's shoulders, snickering along to indicate that they weren’t actually mad at him because, yeah, they did look a little silly (and his laugh was too damn cute to distract them from their predicament) but that still didn't make them any less self-conscious about it.

“I-I–OW! I don’t know what you mean, baby!”

Honey crossed their arms and made a face, looking away in a pretend-but-not-really sulk. 

“Fine, so I’m horrible at makeup ha-ha! Pack it up, jackass!”

To that, their boyfriend's laughter slowly died down, leaving him with a soft, sympathetic smile. 

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! C’mere,” He apologized, beckoning them to come closer to which Honey begrudgingly complied. His smile brightened, pressing numerous quick kisses against his partner’s grumpy face, pulling away with a string of giddy giggles.

“Ew, I got your foundation on my lips.”

“Serves you right,” Honey huffed, unable to hold in a chuckle as they saw the faint splotches of the coating in their skin color on their boyfriend’s stubbled chin and pouted lips.

“So, uh, mind telling me what actually happened over here? ‘Cuz, Honey, you’re as pretty as a painting…given that it’s a painting my baby cousin can do, which I’m assuming isn’t what you were going for?” Guy asked, his full attention to his partner's make-up Frankenstein of a face.

The embarrassment rushed back to Honey tenfold but they masked it up with a shrug that looked timid regardless. “I dunno…there’s this event in the evening with my company and I just…wanted to try something new with my look. I-it's stupid. I started a lot earlier because I knew I’d need some time to learn but…I just can't get the hang of it!”

Sure, they know make-up isn’t all that easy to do but managing to tremendously fuck up something as seemingly simple as putting color on their face despite the amount of tutorials they’ve watched was just embarrassing to admit (especially to someone they’ve grown to care about what he thinks of them). They braced themself for more mocking laughter yet the teasing never came. Instead, they heard an excited gasp.

"Oh, I can do your makeup for you!"

…What?

"Uhm– I– You–?"

Guy picked up the wiped near Honey and started pulling a few from the already-opened plastic pack. The subtle clean scent of aloe vera wafted into their nostrils.

"I can do your make-up!" The man repeated happily, oblivious to Honey's quizzical stare. He gently grabbed their chin with one hand while the other one held the cleanser-soaked napkin inches closer to their cheek before he stopped and gazed into their eyes, "Can I?"

"Uh…Y-yeah. Sure." They felt their breath hitch at the sudden intimacy of the distance between them.

Guy beamed at that and started removing the product on their face but the confused expression never leaves it. He discarded the used wipes in the trash can under the vanity table and started sifting through their shopping spree's worth of cosmetics.

“I suggest you buy micellar water or cleansers instead of those wipes. They do a better job!”

“Uh, Guy?”

"Oh, you got this one! Yeah, I really like their formula, it doesn't feel too heavy on the skin. Well at least on my skin. Let me know if it doesn't feel comfy and–"

"Guy…"

"Woah, you got your shade just right with this one! Ah, but I think this brand oxidizes so the color might change–"

"Guy."

"Ooh, I haven’t seen this product before! Is this newly released or—”

"Guy!” Honey exclaimed, finally capturing their boyfriend’s ever-so-dwindling attention. “Babe. How…I mean, not that I'm doubting your skills or anything but–" 

By this time, Guy had already cleaned all of the makeup off from his partner and was now left with the face he was more used to seeing (and admiring).

"It's just…I've never seen you wear makeup. At all. Besides Halloween, I guess?”

The man simply grinned at that and continued rummaging through the cases of eyeshadows and face creams. “If you must know, a performer was moi!” 

“Oh, trust me, I'm familiar with your theatrics.”

“I’m just gonna pretend you meant that as a compliment,” He huffed, averting his gaze to the products that lay between them both. “Anyway, I did a lot of shows back then and, well, with constantly getting your face painted on, you pick up a few techniques, y'know? I even get to do my own makeup!”

The click and clatter of glass and plastic fills the room as Guy carefully examines each container with the same look he gets when he proofreads a revision of a script he made. It was almost weird to see how his eyes scanned the text of the labels and his habit of biting the inside of his cheek while focusing on the context other than the familiar blue light of his laptop.

“Got interested, asked my friends, then watched a few vids. I got to…’secretly borrow’ some of my mom's makeup to test out some looks.” The image of a teenage Guy experimenting with makeup much like what Honey was doing a while ago tickled their mind.

“But eh, college got in the way and I never really got the time to play around with some flashier makeup styles between delivering greasy ass pizzas and delivering exquisite screenplays that excite the mind and bewitch the heart.”

He held up a circular blush pot near a dumbfounded Honey. His eyes squinted with focus until he finally determined the blush matched their skin tone just fine. 

“Anyway, let's get some moisturizer to prep that cute face of yours!”

After Honey described what they wanted for their look, scrolled through Pinterest to get some inspiration, and watched a few more tutorials, the pair eventually got started with the process.

Guy put on an even layer of foundation, and concealer that he tried his best to match their skin, added contour, eyeshadow and blush according to the style they had requested, and painstakingly drew on some eyeliner (“Because everybody looks hotter with eyeliner!”). He had even let them try a few brush strokes of their own to get the feel of it.

Honey, on the other hand, felt like they were going to explode from the attention they’d been getting from him. Granted, they were no stranger to his affections yet something about the way he was so close—to the point where they could feel the warmth emanating from him, where the way his breath ghosts their neck made them tremble—it was a whole different experience.

The man added some finishing details to Honey’s face before announcing the final step: lipstick.

“Hm, let’s try these colors. Maybe it’s more your style.” He brought up a few plastic tubes with one hand closer to them, awaiting their input on his selection.

“Have you tried these brands before?”

“Uh, not really…I don’t think I’ve actually tried the liquid ones or the twisty ones. What’s the difference anyway? They both color your lips, right?”

Guy laughed at the sheer creativity of the nickname his partner had appointed to the lipsticks in his hand.  “Ah well, I’m glad you asked, Honey!”

He twisted up the matte tube and swiped the creamy formula on his lips, smacking them to spread it evenly. The color on his lips only emphasizes the smirk it formed, amused by the hitched breath Honey lets out as he gently cradled their face and brought it closer to his.

“Solid lipstick doesn't last long. See?” 

He demonstrated this by pressing his mouth on the back of his hand a few times to reveal pigmented marks against his skin. The man even gestured toward his face to show that the tint of the lipstick had significantly faded.

“Huh.” 

Honey was definitely studying his lips, alright. It formed into the same old smile they never got tired of, this time with its edges slightly smeared from what he had done moments ago. They were so entranced that they didn't even notice Guy reaching for a clear tube, this time twisting it to reveal an application wand with a different hue of the lipstick before, quickly applying it on his lightened lips.

“While liquid lipstick—” His quip breaks Honey’s lip-centered daydream and with a sudden movement, Guy pressed his colored lips gently against Honey's bare ones,  the latter letting out a quiet squeak that made the man eagerly press down harder. He slowly pulled away, close enough to have just an inch of space between their mouths.

“...Is kissproof!” 

He was right. Honey could see that Guy’s lips still looked the same with no sign of smudging or transferring of the product. Not that the efficiency of the lipstick is what’s on the forefront of their mind at the moment.

“O-oh,” their voice cracked rather pathetically but Guy only let out a laugh, holding up the twisted-up tube of the lipstick he first used near the other’s visibly quivering lips.

“Hm…now that I see it, I think the shade on the ‘twisty one’ fits your look better. Let’s use that!” 

A wide-eyed Honey simply nodded in response.

—

“...And then here’s your make-up bag, just in case you need to retouch! So, what do ya think? Stunning? Iconic? Gorgeous? Oh, oh! Pulchritudinous? Ehh?”

Honey turned to the vanity mirror for the first time in a while and gaped in the reflection. 

“It's…” They raised their hand, opting to feel their face before deciding otherwise as they realized it might waste all of their boyfriend’s hard work. Honey racked in every corner of their brain for a word to encompass the awe they’re in right now, wishing they had even just a fraction of Guy’s mind to express it in words. 

But for now, they’re just Honey—who isn’t particularly known for their expertise in saying what they mean and they settle for the answer they weren’t satisfied with at all.

“It’s pretty.” 

The person staring back at them looked so different yet still the same. It felt like looking at themselves from a different perspective. Pretty was hardly an adequate descriptor for what they were looking at but it’s all they could think about in their dazed state (the way their partner beamed at their compliment told them he didn’t mind).

“You’re the pretty one, hon! With or without make-up! I mean, c’mon! Look at that smile!”

That earned a wider smile from Honey with Guy giddily matching it.

“I’d have to thank my handsome make-up artist for that. He did such a wonderful job after all.” 

“How do you suppose you’ll do that then, Honey?”

This time, Honey was the one to surprise their lover with a kiss.

BONUS SCENE:

“Do you really have to go?” Guy whined though he already knew the answer. That didn’t stop him from snaking a hand around Honey’s waist, who was just leaving through the door of their shared apartment.

“Yes, Guy. I really have to, especially with how long you’ve been painting on my face, there’s a possibility I might get late,” they explained, giving him an apologetic look despite the scolding tone of their voice. 

“Well, who can blame me when my Honey’s looking absolutely ravishing,” He pulls Honey closer with his usual goofy smile, though this time they notice a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Besides, just a while ago it seems like you wanted your face to be painted with something else, ehh—mmph!”

Honey had cut him off by pressing their lips tenderly against his once more, eliciting a relaxed sigh from him. They pulled back to see a pouty expression plastered on Guy’s face.

“Fuck. Y-you’re enjoying that stunt way too much, it’s not fair!”

“I wasn’t the one that started it!”

“Fine, whatever!” Guy lamented loudly, complete with his hand clutching overdramatically on his chest. “Be like that, go to your party, then! See if I care!”

Honey just rolled their eyes with a smile. “One last goodbye kiss?” 

And how could he ever say no to that?

So after a quick peck on Guy’s cheek (maybe two or three more), Honey finally made their way out the door, leaving him a bit lightheaded than before. 

Despite his lovesick state, he was quick to make his way over to the couch and started setting up his game console connected to their T.V. Since his Honey would be out for most of the night, he decided to invite a friend over to play video games and kill some time.

Knock, knock. Ah, speak of the devil. “Jin! Come in, man!”

Guy swung the door open to reveal a man his age, carrying a paper bag full of chips on one arm and a game controller on the other. He set down the snacks on the second-hand coffee table before settling himself on the couch his friend was sitting on. 

“Sorry for being a little late, just had to do a few things. So, what game are we…Oh.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” “Dude. I think you should look at a mirror.” --

yes jin like one of guys friends that he plays with in that one hoodie video. with no voice line or anything at all. that jin. LMAO

anyway i rlly hope u enjoy this :")) i honestly dont think its my best work LMAO but eh! im here 2 have fun man,,, and this probably would be my last fic (atleast in a while but aughh idk if i'll be active again here HAHAJHAD) so yeah!! hope u liked it tysm have a good night/day!!

[sunnynwanda]

Drop Dead: Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: suggestive (af), flirting, borderline obsessed with each other, language.

Hero was going insane. Unhinged. Absolutely bonkers.

Their job was never easy and quite honestly, they never complained about it. They knew what they had to do, and they did it diligently, whether their heart was in it or not. It was a duty, not a hobby. Villain, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of their life with borderline criminal activities. Not that their shenanigans were anything new to Hero.

Their advances weren't either. However, Hero found it exceedingly more difficult to withstand those. They didn't pay mind to the teasing remarks at first, but Villain grew relentless as time went by and Hero couldn't take it anymore. They had no problem dealing with wounds and injuries on a daily, but the state of constant longing and arousal was getting the best of them.

"You maddening little thing-" Hero growls, throwing a punch in the air when Villain turns the tables on them again, jumping off the bridge and onto a boat passing under it. "Get back here!"

Villain's cackle reaches their ears through a haze of desire coating their lungs, their ear ringing from the lingering feeling of Villain's tongue against the shell of it. "Or what, gorgeous?" Villain muses, their grin too wide for their own good.

"Wait till I catch you," Hero rumbles, their fists clenched at their sides, their jaw tight with determination. Villain hasn't seen their dark side. Yet. "I'll make you regret every damn teasing word you've said to me."

"Can't. Wait." Villain shoots back, their eyes burning with a hint of unabashed hunger. Maybe it was their hunger clouding their vision or perhaps it was wishful thinking, but they felt as if Hero was about to snap.

What they did not know was the sort of beast they had unleashed upon themself.

The night couldn't come quick enough as Hero patrolled the city, restless and exceptionally vicious as they dealt with every small issue until the end of their shift. The moment they clocked out was the point of no return.

Villain would be lying if they said they weren't anticipating anything. Except that was not the form of retaliation they would expect from Hero. They felt a shiver run down their spine when Hero's hand wrapped around their throat. They gulp, making Hero's fingers flex over their neck.

"I've warned you," Hero growls into their ear, their voice sending a jolt of desire straight to Villain's core. Heaven's, they'd risk getting their lights punched out to be held like this by Hero.

"Mm, you have," they murmur, leaning back against their chest, their hand gripping Hero's thigh. If Hero expected them to falter, they were out of their damn mind. "Was that supposed to deter me?"

"What are you trying to achieve taunting me like that?" Hero asks, their free arm wrapping around Villain's middle. "Riling me up won't get you anywhere."

"Is that what you think I want?" Villain turns their head to meet Hero's gaze that's already trained on them, watching intently as if to decipher their incentive. "An upper hand?"

"Yes," Hero mutters, their expression turning doubtful as soon as the word is out. It didn't make much sense to them, but then again, Villain never made sense to them. Probably why Hero was so tempted to kiss them senseless.

"No," Villain denies, giving up the fragile hope that Hero could figure it out.

"Then?" Hero insists, growing more impatient by the minute. Having Villain's body pressed to their doesn't help the situation either. "What do you want?"

Villain chuckles, their tongue darting out to run over their bottom lip. They pry Hero's hand off their throat, turning in Hero's arms to come face to face with their favourite nemesis.

"You." They state simply, meeting Hero's eyes head-on. "I want you."

Hero lets out a low groan, their vision whiting out with sheer yearning, an ache building up deep inside them for far too long. "Fuck you." I sneer, their voice brimming with blinding rage and untamed craving.

"Please do," Villain barely manages to utter their plea when Hero slams them against the wall, grabbing the backs of their thighs and hoisting them up.

"You're going to regret that," Hero warns, not waiting for a reply as their mouth latches onto Villain's exposed neck, ripping a choked moan out of their throat.

"Can't. Wait."

Part 1

A/N: You asked, and I could not resist giving our Villain a little treat. Love, Sunny xo

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing@lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist@excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers@miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon@burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney@thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode@villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

[nightwriter357]

can you write something where Damien is comforting reader because they just graduated from a school(like masters degree or something) and none of readers friends could make it to the party? I'm so fucking miserable because that's whats happening in real life right now. i legit have four friends and I'm positive the two who said maybe will not make it

anyways, she/her pronouns for reader and if it becomes smutty I'd be fine with it

Hey there!

First of all, I want to give a huge congratulations on graduating with your degree! That's an incredible achievement and you should be immensely proud of yourself. 🎓✨ I know it really sucks when your friends can't make it to celebrate significant milestones. I've been through similar situations, and it's definitely tough. But remember, this is a moment to celebrate YOU and all your hard work.

I hope you enjoy the story and that it helps brighten your day a bit. I tried to get to this as soon as I could, hope it didn't take too long. 🫣🫣

Sending you lots of love and congratulations again! 💖

Summary: In this smutty(18+) one-shot, Damien comforts you after disappointing news about your graduation party, showering you with love and affection. His support turns passionate, leading to an intimate encounter where he makes you feel cherished and desired.

You were curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The joy of your recent graduation was completely overshadowed by the news that none of your friends could make it to your party. You felt a mix of sadness and embarrassment, convinced that nobody wanted to be around you.

You're too special to be sad for too long.

Damien came through the door, juggling bags of groceries. His cheerful expression immediately changed when he saw you. "Hey, babe. What's wrong?"

You wiped away a stray tear, trying to smile. "Nothing, just...my friends can't make it to the party. I guess it's not a big deal."

He set the bags down hurriedly and rushed over to you, gently lifting you up and onto his lap. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you close against his chest. "Of course it's a big deal. You worked so hard for this, and you deserve to be celebrated."

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the tears start to flow. "I just feel like nobody wants to be around me. "

Damien tightened his embrace, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Hey, don't talk about yourself like that. You're amazing, y/n. You're smart, beautiful, and you've accomplished something incredible. I'm so proud of you."

His words and touch made you feel a bit better, but the sadness still lingered. "But it's still so embarrassing, Damien. It feels like...like I'm not important to them."

He leaned back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and making you look into his eyes. "Of course you're important. You're the most important person in my life and anyone who doesn't see how incredible you are is missing out. You should be feeling great in this moment, you deserve all the love and admiration in the world."

You felt a small smile tug at your lips, his sincerity warming your heart. "Thank you, Damien. I just...I feel so alone right now."

"You're never alone," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm here, and I'll always be here for you. You're my everything."

He continued to hold you close, his hands gently stroking your back and hair. "You've achieved something amazing. You've worked so hard and come so far and you did it all with such grace and determination. I'm in awe of you, baby."

You let out a small sob, touched by his words. "But it feels like it doesn't matter if nobody cares."

"Don't say that," he said firmly, his hands moving to caress your cheeks. "It matters, you matter, and I care. More than anything. I love you, I love everything about you. Your kindness, your strength, your intelligence."

His words were like a balm to your wounded heart, soothing the pain and bringing a warmth you desperately needed. "I love you too, Damien."

He smiled, his eyes shining with love and affection. "Good. Now, let's make this a celebration, just the two of us. You deserve to feel special."

You nodded, feeling a bit better. "Okay."

He kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. "I'm so proud of you."

You felt the sadness start to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his love and support. "Thank you, Damien. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," he promised, kissing you again. "I'm here, always."

His hands roamed your body, his touch both soothing and arousing. He made you feel cherished, loved, and desired. "You're so amazing" he whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. "You've worked so hard. You deserve to feel so good."

You gasped as his fingers found their way under your shirt, his touch igniting a fire within you. He gently caressed your skin, his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties, sending shivers down your spine. "See how good you're doing, baby?" he murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Such a good girl."

He took his time, his fingers playing with the edge of your panties, teasing you with light, feathery touches that made you whimper and squirm. "You're amazing, baby," he praised, his eyes filled with admiration. "I love seeing you like this."

His fingers finally slipped inside your panties, moving with deliberate slowness. He traced your folds, feeling how wet you already were. "Look at you, so beautiful and ready," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "Does this feel good, baby?

"Yes," you breathed, your body arching into his touch. "So good."

"So fucking pretty like this," he murmured, his fingers exploring you, finding the spots that made you gasp and moan. "I want you to feel amazing, to forget everything else. Just focus on me, on how good I'm making you feel."

His thumb circled your clit slowly, his other fingers teasing and exploring without ever entering you. He savored every moan, every shiver that ran through your body. Damien wanted you to long for him, to forget your sadness and only think about the pleasure he was giving you.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "I love how your body responds to me. You're so perfect, baby."

"Damien," you whimpered, feeling the tension and sadness melt away under his touch. "You're not supposed to be able to make me feel like this right now."

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll always make you feel good, no matter what. You're too special to be sad for too long."

He smiled, his eyes never leaving yours. “I want you to feel incredible,” he murmured, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration.

He coated his thumb in your juices and brought it to your clit, rubbing it lightly while his other fingers traced the contours of your entrance, teasing you just enough to drive you wild with anticipation.

“Please, Damien,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. I’m here,” he soothed, finally pushing a finger inside you. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, your body responding instantly to his touch. He moved slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the feeling, then began to pump his finger in and out of you, his movements steady and deliberate.

"You feel incredible, y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "So tight and wet for me."

You whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more of his touch. He added a second finger, stretching you and making you moan louder. His thumb continued its slow, torturous circles on your clit, building the pressure inside you.

“Do you feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice a soothing rumble. "I want you to feel amazing, to forget everything but this."

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling. "I feel...so" you couldn't fully form the words.

"Look at you,” he said softly, his eyes full of adoration. "My pretty girl, being so good for me, taking my fingers so well."

He increased the pace, his fingers moving faster and harder inside you. He could feel your body tensing, your muscles clenching around his fingers. "You’re doing great, baby. Just a little more. You can do this," he whispered, his voice filled with love and encouragement.

The tension inside you built to an almost unbearable point, your body trembling with need. "Damien, please...I'm so close," you moaned, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"I know, baby. I’m here. Let go for me. I’ve got you," he murmured, his fingers pumping into you with an intensity that made your whole body shake.

Your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you with an overwhelming force. You screamed out his name, your body convulsing as the pleasure washed over you.

Damien held you tight, his fingers moving relentlessly, guiding you through the waves of your orgasm. "That's it, baby, look at me. Just like that, god, you have no idea what you're doing to me," he whispered, his voice filled with fascination.

He didn't stop, his fingers pumping in and out of you hard and fast, prolonging your pleasure. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world who gets to touch you like this, feeling your sweet pussy clench around my fingers," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your body trembled with the intensity of your orgasm, your mind blank except for the sensation of his fingers inside you and his loving words. He continued to hold you, his touch both firm and gentle, his eyes filled with adoration. " Wow, still so pretty," he whispered, his voice soft and tender.

As your orgasm finally subsided, he slowed his movements, gently easing you down from the heights of pleasure. He held you close, his fingers still inside you, his other hand caressing your cheek. "You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you," he murmured, Damien said still holding you tight.

You lay there in his arms, your body trembling and your mind reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "Thank you, Damien. I love you," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, baby. Always," Damien replied, kissing you softly.

You put your hand against his cheek, "You know, this is the best party I've ever been to."

He chuckled, putting your hand in his, "and I haven't even unpacked the snacks yet.

[i-was-a-teenage-eldritch-horror]

I (unwisely) recently logged on to the website formerly known as Twitter, and was immediately greeted with more eva fandom misogynist apologia on the for you tab. Will this ever end?

Equating Shinji's misogynistic actions towards Asuka (and his more subtle misogyny towards Rei and Misato) to Asuka being rude and abrasive to Shinji is just absurd. Is Asuka rude? Yes. Does she have poor social skills? 100%. But Asuka is not a bully, period. Why? Bullying, like abuse, is about power structures. The only character more powerless than Asuka in this show is Rei. Asuka has no adults on her side. Misato favors Shinji because he reminds her of her father wound and neglects Asuka because she reminds her of the feminine parts of herself (read: her unhealthy interactions with men and boys, particularly Kaji and Shinji, which, ironically, stem from her father wound). Or have we forgotten about this scene? Similarly, once Kaji arrives in Japan, he also begins neglecting Asuka in favor of Shinji.

In addition to Shinji's mistreatment of her, Asuka's also experiencing culture shock (compounded by the fact that she's functionally illiterate in Japanese, since she canonically can't read kanji) and the fact that Kensuke was literally manufacturing and distributing csam material of her (and other girls!). Asuka also lacks the protective Eva Unit that Shinji benefits from at almost every turn. The only ally Asuka has is Hikari, who is an ordinary girl with no power over any of the things that are harming or have harmed Asuka.

The smoking gun here is the fact that Shinji is fantastically unfazed by Asuka (who, it must be said, makes several attempts to be kind to Shinji -- which he typically shuts down). Until eoe, the most emotion that he shows around her is when he's understandably upset that she moved into his room while he was at school, and even then he's not upset with Asuka, he's moreso upset at the situation. When he does finally get angry at her in eoe, it's because she was honest with him about how he hurts her and how she does not want to help him (to be clear: she's not obligated to).

Besides that, he nonchalantly tells her not to speak to him that way, or confesses to another character that he finds her bothersome or annoying. There is no real evidence that Asuka has any significant, negative impact on Shinji's psyche the way an actual bully would have on their victim; no, the characters who have the most negative impact on Shinji are Gendo, Yui, and Misato.

What empowers bullies of any age in real life is a power structure (be it at a school, workplace, or in the home) that is negligent towards the victim. There is a reason why school bullies tend to be star athletes, high academic achievers, or exceptionally well-liked (by students, staff, or both) students -- it's because these students often come from privileged backgrounds and/or are aligned with the power structure of the school. Power empowers, go figure.

Misato's treatment of Shinji is definitely not admirable (let's not forget that by the end of the series, Misato has assaulted Shinji); but it's not neglectful. She's very concerned with and involved with his inner life, albeit for selfish reasons. Conversely, Misato knows every ounce of Asuka's pain (rewatch the end of episode 10) and still neglects her! Keeping both Asuka and Shinji in the same household after episode 9 was a mistake on Misato's part. A good, competent caretaker would've discussed the issue (the nonconsensual kiss) with them both separately with the end result being one or both of them moving out into the dorm-like housing that NERV has.

Point being is that the power structure exclusively benefits Shinji relative to Asuka. Despite also suffering as a child soldier and a victim of trauma and abuse, he is privileged relative to Asuka due to how the adults who have power over him and Asuka favor him through their interactions.

Finally, eoe beats us over the head with how uncompassionate Shinji is towards Asuka, Rei, and Misato. Characters who just to happen to be...women and girls. Huh. How about that? It's almost like there's a message there. Although there are a few moments in the show where it's suggested that Shinji ought to empathize more with boys and men like Toji, Kaji, and Gendo (suggestions to empathize with Gendo tend to come from Rei in particular, which I'm not a huge fan of, for the record, but I also recognize that this is Rei imparting her own perspective regarding her own internal journey of questioning onto Shinji), the fact that in eoe, the piece that marks the end of the series, much of the narrative focuses on Shinji's treatment of the women and girls in his life is absolutely significant and sends a message about misogyny.

Does being a misogynist make Shinji a horrible, irredeemable character? Well, that's up to each viewer to decide. My take is that he can still break the cycle and improve. Any story about childhood trauma and abuse would be incomplete without at least one of the characters going down the road of turning into an abuser and/or their traumatizer -- Shinji fits this bill in eva, same with Misato and Ritsuko. Despite everything, I like Shinji. I find him endearing and even identify with him to a certain degree.

When you ignore these facts about Shinji's character, you are erasing a large, very interesting part of his character. Reducing him down to any flavor of sensitive, soft boy is as boring as it is cliche after the more than a quarter of a century since the first episode aired in 1995.

The softness, the sensitivity -- this is Shinji's exterior. Beneath it lies someone who is selfish, callous, bitter, rude, and self-flagellating. As is the case with every eva character, the interior is more interesting than the exterior.

The thing is that everything I've discussed in this post isn't just some throwaway line or a piece of blink and you'll miss it symbolism. It's present in this show basically from episode 1 onward. Seriously, rewatch episodes 1-7. Shinji clearly has some misogynistic ideas about how women should be and this rubs off on how he thinks of Misato (and Rei!), especially regarding how women should dress, keep house, and interact with their sexuality. He not uncommonly makes jabs at Misato for being a slob and having poor dating prospects. After Asuka arrives, much of this is transferred to her.

If anything I've written here sounds like vilification to you, I'd encourage you to examine why. For better or worse, this is the reality of eva and Shinji as a character. Will you face this reality, or just keep on dreaming?

[lu-is-not-ok]

I don't know if this has been mentioned before, but I have a theory about Hong Lu I haven't seen discussed so I was curious of your opinion on it.

As you're aware, there are a few identities where Hong Lu winds up in different jobs bc his grandmother nepo-babied him into different situations (like in the K Corp Class 3 Staff identity) and Hong Lu seems like a generally passive person that moreso allows to let the world happen around him as he rolls with whatever direction the tide takes him (terrible gloom pun intended, sorry).

Maybe I'm wrong, but with what we currently know about him I can't think of a wish that would be important enough for him to go into this whole job with the sinners and abandon his family and life so I've been theorizing his grandmother has a conservatorship or something similar over him and she signed his contract for a wish the family had instead.

Do you have any thoughts, critiques, or corrections for this? You're my favourite limbus blog, so I'm a bit excited to finally have a reason to send an ask in. :)

Thanks!

It's not unlikely for his family to be somehow involved in his employment at Limbus Company, but it is a little bit vague at the moment.

I'm gonna elaborate under a read more cause I got rambly. Also, spoilers from everything up to and including Intervallo 6.5.

We know from the recent Timekilling Time event that the reason Hong Lu isn't with his family right now is because he was told by his elders to explore and learn as much as possible. The way he describes it makes it fairly clear that him leaving his family home wasn't exactly his own choice, but rather something he's doing because he was told to.

This is however where things get a bit less clear. It's possible that his family sent him directly to Limbus Company, knowing that it would lead to him gathering a lot of experience. It's also possible that they just sent him out to do this on his own without much guidance, and when he came across Limbus Company it was his own wish for them to help him achieve the goal the family set out for him.

Identity-wise, it's important to note that the only Hong Lu identities that directly reference being put into the job by his family are once where he is working for Wings, that being K Corp and W Corp.

His Liu Identity also references his family, but doesn't make a direct connection between his spot at Liu and the influence of his elders, rather simply implying that he's unable to escape their influence in his position.

None of his Syndicate Identities really mention his family, which makes sense considering they're the least likely position that his elders would want him to have, but interestingly enough his other Association Identity, Dieci, doesn't reference his family either.

I think it's notable, since arguably his Dieci Identity would be the one where he's able to satiate his curiosity the most, and yet does not reference the idea of his family wanting that out of him at all. That could be potentially explained through the whole Dieci thing of removing their knowledge when they use it in exchange for combat prowess, especially since Hong Lu as a Key seems to be a lot more affected by that exchange, outright losing memories of where he is and why he's there upon spending his knowledge. It's not unlikely that this exchange might have led him to just. Forgetting about his family. Which would be fucking hilarious honestly.

Anyway, all that being said - Hong Lu's family is only ever directly involved when the position he ends up in has some form of... let's call it prestige attached to it, like that of a Wing's feather or an Association Fixer. On the other hand, they seem to be completely out of the picture when the position he ends up in is undesireable, like a Syndicate or low-grade Fixer Office.

This is where we have to consider the nature of Limbus Company as an entity. We know it's a large enough company to have considerable financial backing, sponsors, and be able to absorb other corporate entities like Moses' Fixer Office into itself. At the same time though, it is still almost entirely unknown to the wider world of the City, often not being taken seriously in the slightest by almost everyone.

Would Limbus Company be considered prestigious enough for Hong Lu's family to care to directly involve themselves in getting him the position? Or is it such a small scale entity that they don't care as long as Hong Lu is fulfilling the goal they gave him on his own?

Either way, his family and the orders they gave him are still likely to be his main reason for joining Limbus Company, it's just the matter of how deep their involvement actually goes.

[silantryoo]

midnight rain — huh yunjin x non-idol!reader

yunjin can't help but reminisce about what she left to achieve her dreams.

WARNINGS ; self-depreciation, cyber-bullying

TAGS ; the huh sisters are the best, y/n is the most supportive gf ever, yunjin sacrificed sm, someone check on y/n, idek if this is a happy ending or not, yunjin using y/n as a coping mechanism tbh

GENRE ; fluff, angst (4.2k)

huh yunjin had the whole world in the palm of her hands.

there were thousands of people out there, longing for the idol's attention. she could win anyone's heart over, just with a couple words and her goofy smile, but none of them could ever compare to you.

huh yunjin might rule the world, but you still and will always rule hers.

-

yunjin met you right after she had finished produce 48.

she had left korea feeling like a shell of her former self. yunjin had gotten the taste of a dream that she so badly longed for, and one she most likely would never be able to achieve again. she had missed her only chance, and there was no getting it back.

it didn't help that mainland korea had turned its back on the then-aspiring idol.

she had read through the produce forums almost daily since then. yunjin spent hours scrolling, letting every horrible thing said build inside her like a sickly virus.

glad huh yunjin didn't make it. she's a backstabbing bitch. (+193, -21)

did huh yunjin die? i hope so (+86, -7)

i hope huh yunjin never debuts!!!!!!!!! (+273, -11)

huh yunjin knew she was done for.

she went back to new york mid-september a year later, back to the high school that she dreaded going to, another reminder that she will never, ever be who she wanted.

"um," yunjin felt a tap on her shoulder. "you know the school library isn't open twenty-four hours, right?"

"huh?" yunjin wiped her eyes. she glanced at the clock behind the strange girl. 7:12. "shit, sorry. i didn't realize."

"it's fine. i'm closing this place up soon." yunjin watched as the girl's eyes locked onto hers. she could feel her heart in her throat. "you can stay, if you want."

"i want to, uh..." yunjin cleared her throat. "i'll stay."

"okay."

yunjin forgot about everything for a moment.

"okay."

yunjin was never a studious person.

the girl had decent grades, but she never actually put effort into studying, not like her sister or her friends around her. it came to her naturally, and yunjin had other priorities such as working on her musical skills (something that she had abandoned as soon as she stepped foot on american soil once more).

but a week later, yunjin found herself sitting in front of her younger sister, watching as she did her homework.

"unnie?" her sister, rachel, eyed the brunette weirdly. "why are you here?"

"why?" yunjin stared at the empty desk in front of her, looking around the library to find the others full of papers. "can't i study?"

"no. you can't." rachel tapped her pencil. "you're literally incapable of studying."

"wow, okay." the former trainee scoffed. "i've had a change of heart."

rachel shook her head.

"i get losing in produce sucks, but i don't think you could do a 180 that fast." yunjin winced, rachel opening up fresh wounds. the older huh knew that the girl was just trying to make light of the situation, but it still hurt like hell. "it's been like... three weeks."

yunjin knew it had been three weeks. three weeks, two days, and five hours since she landed back in america. she didn't need rachel to remind her, not when the entire world already had.

"can you shut up?" yunjin snapped, gripping the backpack she was holding on her lap.

the younger huh flinched, the silence of the library amplifying yunjin's aggression.

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes shut tight as she tried to calm herself down. the young girl had never been good with emotions, but she wanted nothing more than to tell her sister that it was okay to feel upset.

(even if rachel knew yunjin wouldn't listen.)

"oh hey, rach." yunjin's eyes opened, her head turning to the sound of a familiar voice, soothing the former trainee. "what are you doing?"

rachel hummed, setting her pencil down. "working on the assignment from our econ class."

you made your way between the huh sisters, looking at the diligent note-taking of the younger girl to your left.

"why?" you muttered. you were sure that the due date didn't change. "that's due next week."

"no?" you felt your heart drop. "it's due tomorrow."

"oh shit." your eyes widened, covering your mouth. you were screwed. "i need to find nadine."

rachel looked at you with a smile. it was hard to believe that you were only a month younger than yunjin. though yunjin never cared for schoolwork, she was always hardworking when necessary. you on the other hand...

"who was that?"

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes trained at your retreating figure. "y/n?"

yunjin couldn't help but smile. the name fit you perfectly. "yeah."

"she's my classmate from my AP econ class." rachel squinted. yunjin was a bit too interested in you for it to just be curious. "she's a junior this year... why?"

yunjin's eyes widened, the former trainee's face unable to hide her surprise.

"why are you taking AP?" she tried to change the subject. "aren't you 14?"

"i wanna get into NYU." rachel sighed, picking up the pencil as she bit back multiple remarks that would leave her sister cursing at her. "leave me alone."

yunjin felt a pang in her chest.

it had slipped her mind that she had to think about university now. where she was going to commit, scholarships and loans...

yunjin tried her best to not seem fazed. dreams were meant to be dreamt, not fufilled. the sooner she knew that, the better it was for her.

"you're such a nerd."

"you're literally a theater kid, unnie." rachel bit back, too immersed in her work to notice the mood drop. "you can't talk."

yunjin stared at her sister, hoping that she would never feel that way.

(but in the back of her mind, through all the guilt and anger, she couldn't help but linger at the thought of you).

yunjin was starting to like the library.

it was quiet, and peaceful (minus the many kids who were scrambling to study for a test in the corner of the library). it let her think about everything, letting her sit in her feelings. plus, the library had the ambiance of the produce practice rooms early in the morning, something that the former trainee greatly missed.

"are you here to read through your phone again?"

yunjin could feel the hairs on her neck stand up. "huh?"

yunjin, eyes trained on your figure, watched as you took a seat across from her.

"you and rach look a lot alike." you said, humming as you set your chin on your hand. "i should've known that you were her sister."

yunjin pushed back a smile.

(she'd never tell anyone, but part of her was worried that rachel no longer looked up to her.)

"she told you about me?"

"she brags about you all the time." you smiled at yunjin's grin. "something about being a kpop idol, i dunno. i'm not good with that stuff."

the former trainee pursed her lips.

"oh, well," yunjin chuckled awkwardly, the awkwardness in her chest starting to change into pain. "i don't think that's gonna happen."

you looked her up and down. "why not?"

yunjin could think of multiple reasons, ones that she had internalized so much that she had changed the way she carried herself, but she wasn't going to say that to a random stanger (much less a hot random stranger).

"it didn't work out." yunjin said.

"oh." you scratched your cheek, yunjin nodding shallowly. "well, it's too soon to tell, y'know? you could be like, the next bts or something."

"how can i be the next bts when i'm one person?" yunjin squinted. kpop was so much more than just bts. "plus, bts isn't the only kpop group out there."

"i know that." you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the girl. "you just seem like someone who likes bts."

yunjin could feel herself blushing.

"...yeah."

"see, i already know you." yunjin looked away, afraid that she'd implode if she looked at your smile. "i just need to know your name."

"my name?" yunjin's mind went blank, nearly spitting out a random name. "jennifer."

"jennifer." you smiled harder. "nice to meet you, jennifer. i'm y/n."

and for a moment, right when yunjin's name rolled off of your tongue, yunjin felt seen.

yunjin considered herself a lot of things. as of late, most of them had turned overwhelmingly negative, but regardless, she at least knew that she was in tune with her emotions. she, unlike her sister, was able to identify them, and 'fix' them to the best of her abilities.

however, being around you the past couple of weeks you have told her differently.

yunjin knew she liked you. she liked the way you smiled at her, your gums showing through your crooked smile. she liked the way your hands felt, the way your hand would accidentally bump into hers, making yunjin long for more.

you were everything yunjin had ever dreamt of in a person, but she was sure she was just going to mess it up again.

yunjin sighed, forcing herself to stop thinking about you, a common occurrence that had been recently happening lately.

"unnie." rachel tapped her should, causing the older girl to jump.

she turned to the younger girl and her friends, her locker mirror shaking as she slammed it closed. "what?"

rachel's friend, nadine (if yunjin remembered correctly), said, "you're close with y/n right?"

yunjin clenched her jaw, a burst of anxiety running up her spine. had you gotten hurt? was something wrong? yunjin couldn't help but overthink.

"why?" she hummed.

"you guys aren't dating?" rachel asked, yunjin's eyes widening as big as saucers.

"no," yunjin scoffed, a blush covering her face. if only she could. "what?"

rachel looked at the girl beside her as yunjin avoided the younger students' gazes. her older sister was anything but subtle.

"okay." rachel said slowly, watching as yunjin perked up, waiting to hear any information about you. "derek's planning to ask her out, so i just wanted to make sure you don't go all... you on him."

"okay, i don't go all 'me' on anyone." yunjin crossed her arms. perhaps there had been one incident a year ago that almost got her suspended, but that was only because someone had hit on rachel. yunjin took no fault. "wait... derek mcavoy?"

"yeah?"

yunjin felt her stomach sink.

she considered herself many things, passionate being one of them. sometimes, yunjin passion could get in the way of her rational thinking.

"hey, do you guys know who sent me these flowers?" yunjin could hear your voice behind her, getting closer to her. "i think they're trying to kill me."

yunjin clenched her fist.

"aren't you allergic to those?" rachel blinked at you, staring at daisies that were in your hand.

how you weren't dead? she had no clue.

"severely." you sighed, looking at the bouquet in front of you. "i had to take my inhaler."

rachel shook her head, looking at her sister who was staring into the distance, face stoic and eyes glazed over. the younger girl sighed. it was happening.

"jen," you called out to her, bringing her out of her head. yunjin turned to you. "do you think one of your fans reached me?"

yunjin's eyes met yours, hardened and swirling with an emotion that you could only identify as anger and regret. looking over to rachel, she shrugged as yunjin continued to stare into your soul.

yunjin didn't want to live in regret anymore, not when her daily life was already filled with it.

"go out with me."

yunjin had never heard silence in a crowded hallway until that very moment.

"what?"

("unnie?")

"go out with me, y/n." yunjin stated, pushing down the embarrassment threatening to take over her entire body.

("should we be here?")

"uh..." you took a breath, your gummy smile making yunjin overflow with happiness. "okay."

yunjin had never felt happiness like that in her life.

"okay."

yunjin would be lying if she said she was satisfied with how her life was right now.

she had everything that anyone could want at her age. her grades, although not to ivy league standard, could get her in a good college if she kept her current pace. she had no family problems, and yunjin had always gotten along with rachel.

most of all, she was in a great relationship, celebrating her first valentine's with the girl she had slowly fallen in love with over the past four months.

but it wasn't enough, because this life will never be enough for yunjin.

"oh my god," yunjin smiled, turning her phone off as you entered her room. "is that huh yunjin from produce 48 where iz*one was created?"

although not as strong, yunjin felt a dull ache in her chest.

"you're so annoying." yunjin rolled her eyes, sitting up to greet you with a kiss.

"hey, i got into kpop for you so we could bond as a couple." you teased, humming against her lips. the taller girl smiled. "how am i annoying?"

"i didn't say i hated it." she whispered, moving over to give you a seat. "i missed you."

truthfully, yunjin did miss you, especially the way you made her forget her failures, even if it was just for a moment.

"i saw you yesterday." you teased. you grabbed her hand, smiling at her. "but i missed you too."

you leaned in once more, capturing the girl's mouth against yours. you always felt an overwhelming sense of love whenever you kissed the taller girl, but yunjin always felt a sense of fear. the fear of becoming content with a life like this, a life without doing what she loved.

you pulled away. "me or bts?"

yunjin groaned, guilt simmering in her stomach. "you're the worst."

"i know." you giggled, kissing her cheek.

yunjin sighed, leaning back as she slammed her back onto her bed.

you followed her suit, the short haired girl wrapping her arm around you as you snuggled close into her body.

"tired?" you asked, stroking her hair out of her face.

"this week has been kicking my ass." yunjin knew she had done it to herself, tuning into the japanese tabloids that week to keep tabs on iz*one's debut. "but it is our very first valentines together. plus, i think you're my gift from cupid."

you scoffed playfully, trying to pull away from the ex-trainee. "am i just an object to you, jennifer?"

"hey, no!" yunjin whined, shoving her face into your neck. you giggled, feeling the strands of her hair against your neck. "and don't use my full government name."

"sorry, sorry." you smiled, watching as her eyes looked into yours. "what do you want me to call you instead?"

yunjin thought for a moment, her eyes darting to your mouth. "mine."

your smile dropped, and you pulled away from her, the korean whining at the loss of contact.

"ugh." you sat up, shaking your head. "jesus, jen... that was disgusting."

she gasped, sitting up beside you. "you dated me knowing that i'm like this."

"no." yunjin frowned, and you couldn't help but smile at her adorable face. "i dated you because you're hot."

"wow." yunjin's mouth hung open, trying hard not to smile as you attacked her cheek with kisses as an apology. "so you only love me for my face."

you pulled back, raising your eyebrow. "who said i loved you?"

yunjin stared at you, hearing her heart break slowly.

she knew it wasn't your fault, but yunjin couldn't help but find herself feeling the same way she had at the beginning of the school year.

"i'm sorry, i--"

"i do, though. love you, i mean." you cleared your throat, awkwardly scratching your cheek as you looked at the ground. "i'm just trying to figure out how you know when i literally never told anyone until now."

yunjin smiled at you, taking your features in as if to memorize you.

"i love you too."

yunjin watched as your eyes swarmed with adoration, and nothing had ever scared her so much than the feeling of fulfillment that spread through her chest.

"you do?" you whispered, looking into her eyes, finding nothing but sincerity in them.

but something was off, you could feel it in the air. the way the weight of the room had gotten heavier, almost as if the burden of your girlfriend filled the entire thing.

yunjin looked away, and that was enough to know that deep down, she never wanted to fall in love with you, not like this.

"yeah." yunjin muttered, smiling through her smile. "i do."

you smiled through your pain, wanting nothing more than to feel love instead of regret.

"the famous huh yunjin is in love with me?" you joked, watching as her face morphed into a more playful tone.

"shut up."

"okay." you nodded, wondering how long you had left with her. "only because i love you."

"i love you too."

yunjin had meant every word she said, even if it came with layers of regret.

yunjin had heard from koeun a month ago that source music had opened back up, this time under new management, a much more competent one.

when the former trainee heard the news, she refused to get her hopes up. she had come to terms with how her life was now. yunjin still felt the what-ifs from time to time, but she couldn't do anything about it, even if she so badly wanted to.

she hid it well from her family, the longing for the spotlight, to perform. they didn't ask her questions about why she would skip dinner, sitting in front of her computer as she waited for a stupid email to pop up.

(you knew, however. and it pained you to know that your girlfriend would never truly be happy with you.)

you pushed it down, waiting for the right time to bring it up to her. you just wished it didn't have to happen today.

"hey, jen. sorry i kept you waiting. your mom tried to force-feed me once i stepped through the door. she thinks you aren't feeding me enough." you laughed as you set your sweater to the side of her room, making your way over to kiss her forehead. "happy six months, baby."

yunjin wiped her face, looking at the monitor of her laptop. "happy six months."

yunjin didn't look at you, afraid that she'd lose everything as soon as her eyes locked onto your eyes.

"what's up?" you wiped her tears. she hung her head low, the light of the monitor illuminating her tear streaks. "you don't look as happy as i do."

yunjin was silent, waiting for you to look at the screen in front of her.

you turned your head, skimming over the english text found in the email. it was bound to happen, and you had tried your hardest to prepare yourself for it. you hoped it was enough to keep the facade up long enough.

"oh, jen." you rubbed yunjin's back, watching as her tears fell harder. "are you going back?"

yunjin shook her head, not wanting to think about it. "i don't know."

"do you want to?"

you already knew your answer a long time ago.

"i don't know." yunjin didn't mean to lie, but she loved you. "i don't want to leave you."

"it's fine." you whispered in her ear, swallowing your tears back. "i'll be fine."

yunjin wrapped her arms around you, her head buried in your neck as sobs wracked her body. she couldn't do it again. she couldn't lose everything she's worked for again.

yunjin couldn't lose you for nothing.

"what if it doesn't go well, and i just ended us for nothing?" yunjin asked in between sobs, gripping the back of your shirt.

"so you want to go?"

yunjin's face fell, pulling back from you as you smiled at her with teary eyes.

yunjin loved your smile.

"baby..."

"it's okay, i promise." you nodded, trying to push through the pain. "you'll be fine. i believe in you."

yunjin shook her head. she didn't deserve it. she didn't deserve your support, not if she's leaving you like this.

"i finally accepted it." yunjin blubbered, too emotional to realize what she said. "i can't go through this again."

you bit your upper lip, looking away briefly. hearing yunjin say it was different from knowing that you were just the second choice.

"i know." yunjin's face was wet with tears, a never-ending flow of remorse. "but you won't, because you'll debut this time."

yunjin shook her head. "how do you know that?"

"because you're jennifer huh. you're the girl who came back here, fighting to be okay again even though deep down you knew that it wasn't what you wanted." you kissed her nose, watching as her nose crinkled at the contact. you smiled. "you're the girl i'm in love with."

yunjin felt a weight lift off of her shoulders.

"i'm in love with you too." yunjin sniffed. "i don't want to leave you."

you looked into yunjin's eyes, and you saw nothing but passion, passion for you.

if there was one thing that you loved yunjin, it was her overwhelming sense of passion. but at times like these, you hated it.

you watched her for a moment.

"then i'll leave you."

"what?" yunjin's eyes widened, moving her hands onto your arm. "no."

"you want us to make it work?" you asked her, almost challenging her at the ridiculous thought.

you two were high school kids, two girls who fell in love because of a missed opportunity, an opportunity that yunjin was willing to jeopardize for you.

yunjin could feel her fears coming true.

"i..."

"baby, what are they gonna think once they find out about us if we even manage to make it through until your debut?" you told her, furrowing your eyebrows.

"i don't know."

yunjin looked at you through the thick silence, almost as if she was trying to memorize you one more time.

"it's a good thing we're both private people, huh?" you chuckled, the knot in your throat becoming bigger. "imagine all the people you'd have to pay off. i mean, you guys are rich but st--"

"can you not?" yunjin whispered. "please?"

"sorry." you cleared your throat, looking away as tears were starting to form in your eyes (not yet. please.). "do you want me to go?"

"no." yunjin said with sincerity. "i just want to spend one more day with you."

yunjin stared at you desperately pleading for you to agree. she just needed to hold you one more time, to listen to your voice. she just needed one more day to memorize you before she lost you.

"okay."

one day was enough for you, even if you'd love her for the rest of your life.

"okay."

you untangled yourself from her at three in the morning the next day, eyes bloodshot and arms tired from holding her as if she was going to disappear.

you wiped your eyes, and placed your forgotten sweater on her desk, tucking a piece of paper in the pocket.

you were going to break soon, and you didn't want yunjin to see the broken pieces she'd leave in new york.

looking at the girl once more, you gave her one more kiss on the forehead, hoping that she'd remember you with only happiness and love.

you left yunjin's room, clenching your mouth as you tried your best not to sob.

"y/n?"

"night, rach." you tried to walk away, the younger girl following you to the door.

rachel looked at you with a frown, watching as you struggled to put your shoes on. "are you okay?"

you looked up at her, your eyes red as you smiled. you haven't heard someone ask that in a while.

"no." you grinned, the tears streaming down your face betraying you.

"thank you for doing this for unnie." rachel said, watching as you stiffened up. she wished she could do something more, but this wasn't her expertise. "it's probably killing you."

"i'll be fine." you whispered, standing up to face the girl.

"come study with me later?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

you hated how much rachel looked like her sister.

"okay." you patted her shoulder, rachel opening the door as you fished for your keys. "thanks rachel. you would've made a good sister-in-law."

rachel winced. not at the comment, but at the way your face morphed into an emotion she had yet to feel.

"you too."

"yunjin-ah!"

yunjin groaned as chaewon yelled at her from across the dorm. no matter how hard she tried to rest, there was someone who always needed something from her.

"you know that hoodie i was gonna borrow?" yunjin grunted, earning a smack on the head from chaewon. the taller girl looked up, staring face to face with an old piece of paper. "this fell out of it."

"huh?" yunjin didn't remember leaving anything in her pockets.

chaewon hopped on the couch, sitting beside her roommate.

"it's a letter." yunjin knew your writing anywhere.

"oh?"

dear jen,

i'm rooting for you, jen. just like i always have and just like i always will be.

i love you, jen l/n y/n.

"who's y/n?"

"someone." yunjin whispered, memories suddenly flooding her brain. "you can't wear that hoodie though, that one's special."

chaewon whined. "why?"

"you can't." yunjin stated, chaewon watching closely as she hummed, the taller girl having a small smile on her face. "now, let's go get food."

"you're so weird."

i love you too, y/n.

silan says " pls pray for me... i cannot fail my final ;-; "

[autumnslance]

In reference to this post I reblogged earlier, but don't want to muck up UC's activity:

#i think it's more important to see that redemption is in the eye of the beholder #not everybody (characters or real people) will accept the same type or amount of repentance for the same sins #some people might not care at all if the person who wronged them feels sorry; only if they materially repaid their crimes #others can feel the opposite #and either way that's their prerogative #you can disagree with the characters or the fans or the writers about who “deserves” OR has “achieved” redemption and that's okay #because it's ultimately a complex philosophical issue #like i agree with OP!!! but there's media literacy in accepting that not everyone will

I'm going to disagree with many of these tags, especially it being "in the eye of the beholder" and would argue it's more media literate to recognize when a character has a workable redemption arc even if one disagrees they "should" get one. It took me a long time to learn this cuz of how we're usually taught redemption = forgiveness in Western (especially very Christianized, and especially if explicitly raised Christian) culture:

It doesn't rely on anyone but the person seeking redemption.

Yeah, it's the wronged party's prerogative to never forgive, to think the perpetrator's atonement (and/or punishment) is not enough and never will be. Anyone (characters and actual people) who sympathize, and who are on their side, can agree it's not ever enough and that character/person's sins are unforgivable.

And that still doesn't matter to their redemption.

We have an example of a workable redemption arc that not all accept in Final Fantasy XIV with Fordola's situation, through the Endwalker healer role quests. She was raised a collaborator of Ala Mhigo's imperial occupiers, and thought the best way to help her people was to soldier for the empire, becoming their Butcher.

In the Stormblood patches, Raganfrid says he will never forgive her; he thanks her for the aid she gave in the throne room that day, but that's all. And even in the EW healer role quests, their interactions are complicated. He still can't forgive the collaborators, even as he works to reintegrate them into Ala Mhigan society. He recognizes many thought they had no choice. He can't, won't, forget the pain of losing his own loved ones to them. This is stated multiple times.

And others, like M'rahz, Sarisha, and M'naago also struggle, also say they won't forgive...but reluctantly agree they can understand how for the sake of their families, the collaborators felt pushed against a wall, and what lengths have they themselves gone to for their own families? M'naago even scolds Fordola: she doesn't get to give up, she has to keep working--or she dies as exactly what everyone said she was.

Fordola starts out as the one punished for her sins. Through the story, she makes her choices to change and fight and work for her people as a free woman. There are still those who despise the Butcher, and always will. Redemption comes from Fordola's actions, Fordola's choices. Who forgives her and who doesn't can't change that she has changed, and continues to do so.

And in the interest of fairness, for the opposite of Fordola, we have Laurentius. In A Realm Reborn, he collaborated with the empire, selling out his nation. He came out of his punishment wanting a new chance, so joined the Crystal Braves...and immediately fell under Ilberd's sway. While others remained loyal and stuck to their morals (and paid for it with imprisonment or even death), Laurentius went along with all of Ilberd's plans. And in the end, the player gets an opinion in the punishment he and his comrade face, but it's clear from talking to Raubahn there isn't much hope. Laurentius had his chances, but he didn't make any effort to actually change--so faced the consequences.

For Reference for the Healer Role Quests: Garland Tools Healer quest text starting with "Far From Free", and my own saved text in Gdocs (raw, not very organized compared to my later saved/updated docs).

(Nero's the war criminal who...didn't even get a slap on the wrist, he just waltzed into a leadership meeting 15 mins late with Starbucks and has been helping us save the world since. Gaius is the war criminal that went through traumas, saw his privileged preconceptions torn apart, and is starting down that road in the wake of Werlyt to clean up his mistakes and not let his children's sacrifices be in vain. None of these characters "need" punishment to decide to change; some of it simply happens as part of their stories, but they make their own choices and actions toward atonement.)

(Also redemption is usually an ongoing process, which is why "Death Equals Redemption", like how Yotusyu's situation is framed, is so dicey and often unsatisfying; are they actually changed, or they just getting out of putting in that effort to? Nothing indicated Yotsuyu actually cared to change, as sympathetic as she was in the end! But she has her redemptive moment for her fans, and the people who hate/won't forgive her also "win"--the trope is a "have your cake and eat it too" writing cop-out IMO at this point.)

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 4 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook get to know each other a bit better Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 4.6k~ a/n: Took me a while to get back to this story so I made this chapter a bit longer. Hope you like it! Read from the beginning

"Again" Jungkook says in a commanding tone, watching as I pick up the book I had balanced on top of my head while he had me running through the steps for a waltz on my own. (yes, like you see in those cheesy princess movies)

"Why am I doing this again?" I ask, stopping for a second to prevent the book from wobbling so much. "It's to help with your posture and balance. Once you've learned how to maintain proper posture then we can fine tune it to make it seem more natural" he says an eyebrow raised as he watches me trying to regain balance of the book as well as myself. 

"How much longer do I have to do this?" I ask as I finally am able to regain my composure. "As long as I tell you to. Now please stop talking and focus on what you're trying to achieve" he says and I roll my eyes since luckily I have my back facing him this time, leaving me able to blow off a little bit of steam without him noticing. 

Ten or fifteen minutes later he finally lets me take a break. "Here" he says while handing me a glass of water. I look up at him with a confused expression, wondering what's gotten into him. He's hot one minute and the cold the next and I really don't know where things stand between us most days. "Are you going to take it or not?" he asks, clearly getting impatient. 

"Yes, sorry. Thank you" I say quickly reach for it, our hands subtly brushing up against each other and neither of us pulling away right away. "Um, Mr. Jeon?" I say, questioning why he hasn't let go. 

"Oh" he says and pulls his hand back, acting as if he had touched a hot stove. "Rest for ten minutes and then be ready to begin again" he says, clearing his throat and walking out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. 

Pulling out my phone I open Jesse's message thread and send him a text immediately.

'Bitch' I simply send, knowing that that kind of message will get his attention right away. 

'Bitch' is all he sends back, showing that he's listening. 

'Jungkook is acting weird again' I send, not really knowing how else to explain it. 

'Isn't he always though? What happened this time?' he sends, making a point but also wanting to know more.  

'He has me dancing around the room with a book on top of my head, you know very princess in training kind of situation' I send, annoyed at the fact that I've already been doing this for an hour. 

'Okay, doesn't sound too crazy to me'  he replies, not really sure where I'm going with this. 

'He's been doing stuff like this for weeks right? But today he's been leaning up against the wall and watching me, but I feel like this time he's checking me out more than anything. I don't know it just feels different. And he said I could take a break (hence why I'm able to talk to you now) and he gave me a glass of water' I send off, trying to get it all out before he gets back. 

'Okay and? Sounds like he's just being nice'  he sends back, not really getting the full picture yet.

'But the thing is, once he handed it to me he wouldn't let go of it. Like it took me a second to grab it because I was confused as to why he was being so nice to me but then when I finally did take it it was like he wanted to keep our hands touching. I don't know but it felt kind of weird' I send, hoping to get some validation for my feelings about this. 

'Oooo sounds like lover boy might be into you'  he teases and I can't help but smile and roll my eyes when I see the message. I of course told him about the dress incident and he's been teasing me about it ever since. 

'No he's not' I send, wondering though if he might be right. 

'Okay but what happened after that?'  he asks, pressing for more details since things have gotten a bit more juicy (how he would describe it, not me).

'Well I called out his name since he seemed to be in a bit of a daze and when he realized what he was doing he ripped his hand away and looked flustered? Nervous? I don't know but he definitely was more surprised by his actions than I was. And then he just kinda left and said to be ready to continue in ten minutes' I send, not really knowing how to describe his reaction. 

"Let's get started" Jungkook says, walking into the practice room again and I send Jesse a quick message telling him I have to go and lock the screen and throw it in my bag before I'm able to see his response. 

I stand up and smooth out my skirt and walk back towards where I had placed the book down and reach for it again but before I'm able to touch it Jungkook grabs my wrist and pulls it away and places my hand on his shoulder, and pulls me in by the waist. I take in a sharp breath at the sudden proximity and I'm left staring at him with a wide eyed look. "I thought I needed more practice with my posture" I say, confused as to why he's done this so suddenly. 

"You seem to be progressing faster than I had anticipated so I figured we should move on" He says, leaning towards me, leaving me having to close my eyes, not really sure what to do but I'm startled by the sound of music suddenly playing through the speakers again. Now just realizing he was leaning in closer so he could press play on the sound system. 

"Are you alright?" he ask with a smug look on his face after standing upright and seeing the blush that had started to form on my cheeks. "I'm fine" I say, clearing my throat and looking off to the side so I can avoid his playful gaze. I hear him chuckle under his breath and say something that I just can't catch which leaves me turning back to face him. 

"What was that?" I ask with my brows pinched together in confusion. "Nothing, now focus and try not to step on my feet like last time" he taunts and I grace him with a sarcastic smile in return before he starts to lead me in this waltz that we've gone through a million times at this point. 

"Head up, back straight, wrists relaxed" he lists off, fixing the small details to make everything look seamless and I can't help but agree. With these minor changes it feels more natural and comfortable with each and every turn. 

Once the song finally ends we both part and I do a slight curtsy to him and he bows back. "That wasn't horrible, wasn't the best, but better" he says, trying his hardest not to make his compliment go to my head. "Umm thanks?" I say with a questioning tone, thinking that I did a lot better this time but I guess he's someone who is never truly satisfied.

"Grab you things, we're leaving" he says and puts on his suit jacket and looks in the mirror, fixing the collar and making sure everything is in place. "What do you mean?" I question, quickly grabbing my jacket and purse off the table in the corner of the room. 

"Did your father not inform you? We're going out to dinner tonight, I need to asses your table manners and this would be the best way to go about it. We'll work on fine tuning the small details tomorrow if need be" he says and walks down the hall, rushing me out of his home. 

"I've made reservations for us so we need to make sure to be punctual, which you have gotten a bit better at so well done" he says and holds the front door open for me to head out first so he can lock up. 

For some reason that small bit of praise has a nervous feeling start to bubble in my stomach and I get slightly nervous at the thought of being with him like this. It's not a date or anything but it just feels weird, like it's uncharted territory for us. 

"We'll take my car. You father has already sent someone to pick yours up" he says, never bothering to give me a choice in the matter. I might as well not have a car at this rate, seeing as he always seems to make the decision to drive the both of us. "You know you don't have to drive me around right? I really don't mind taking my car and meeting you there" I say as I walk towards him where he's holding the passenger side door open for me. 

"I am well aware. It's more convenient this way. I have another meeting in the city again so I'll be dropping you off at home as well" he informs me and closes the door once I've gotten in. "You're really controlling did you know that?" I say, finally voicing my opinions since I'm tired of him making choices for me. 

"I believe I make decisions that would be the most advantageous for the both of us so if that's seen as controlling then yes I am. Are you done now?" he asks as he gets into the driver's side and puts on his seatbelt before starting the car. "Whatever" I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest and angling my body away from him. He decides to let this one go, honestly not seeing the error in his ways until I spoke up and makes it a point to discuss this later when I'm not already upset with him.

~~~~

The drive to the restaurant is painfully silent and he doesn't bother to put any sort of music on leaving the tension that had built between us still thick with animosity (at least from my side). As we get closer though I start to realize that some of that anger and frustration might just be from the fact that I'm actually starving so I decide to make a note to give him a bit of a break, trying to be a bit more reasonable. 

Once we've pulled up I see that we're eating at one of the high rise restaurants that I've always wanted to go to and I can feel myself already start to salivate. "Close your mouth or you'll start drooling again" Jungkook says as he unbuckles his belt and gets out of the car, handing the keys to the valet, exchanging it for a ticket. 

I close my mouth and frown at him before going to do the same but before I'm able to open the car door on my own I see that he has yet again opened it for me and is now offering his hand to help me out. I have half a mind to brush it off and get out on my own but then I remember that we're in public and this is one of those times that I need to be showing off the skills that he has been teaching me, so I graciously accept it and step out of the car. 

"Good girl" he whispers to me and I turn towards him with a startled look on my face. "I could tell what was going on in that pretty little head of yours but you accepted my hand nonetheless so good job" he says and takes my hand, placing it on his arm to lead me inside. 

Being this close to him and especially in public feels different, he seems a bit more relaxed and isn't as short with me. It's nice but it feels weird, I just never know what version of Jungkook I'm going to get these days and it's making me dizzy. 

"Table for two?" the host asks us when we walk up to the podium. "Yes it should be under the name Jeon" Jungkook answers and I'm thankful that he does. I'm not a shy person so to say but I definitely feel out of my element so as the minutes go by he seems to bring me a sense of comfort and familiarity. 

"Ah yes Mr. Jeon, if you will follow me please" the host replies and leads us to our table that seems to be set up in a nice almost intimate corner of the restaurant. Safe from the pressure of the masses that are seated all around. 

I could've sworn I saw a senator or governor around here before we sat down as well as a CEO or two so it's nice to not have to worry about perfectly keeping up appearances as of yet. That's just what our family needs, a scandal because of me spilling a drink on someone important or not chewing my food properly and being called a slob. 

Okay that last one was probably a stretch but still it's not something that needs to be added to the list since our family is already under fire for my stepfather marrying beneath his social status. I want to do everything I can to keep from adding something else to his plate so I guess I should still be on my best behavior. 

"Good evening" our waiter says when he comes around to no doubt take our orders. "Oh Mr. Jeon, how lovely to see you again. Is this another one of your students?" he asks, looking over at me with a friendly smile. "Yes this is Miss y/n, my newest pupil" Jungkook replies, matching the same warmth the waiter has offered to us both.

Looking at him as he exchanges pleasantries with this man I can see almost a hint of a smile, a genuine one at that. They must know each other well since he recognizes him and already knows what Jungkook does for a living. "We'll have the set menu please with a glass of merlot for the both of us" Jungkook finishes and I'm startled out of my train of thought at the fact that again he didn't give me a chance to make a choice for myself. 

He notices the slightly narrowed gaze I'm giving him and he has the audacity to smile, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Why didn't yo-" "At the various events you shall be attending this fall you won't have much of a choice in the menu so it's better to get used to eating food that you wouldn't necessarily order on your own" he says placing his napkin on his lap. 

"At least you ordered the kind of wine I like" I mumble, mirroring him with my napkin at well. "What was that?" he asks, clearly using it to subtly scold me and ask me to speak properly or not speak at all. Or that's what he's told me in the past. 

"I said you have an excellent taste in wine" I respond with a pained smile, hating that I'm complimenting him, no matter how small it might be. "I asked Matthew what kind you tend to prefer and he gave me a few options" he says and takes a sip of the water that had already been placed here for us. 

"You asked what my favorite type of wine is?" I question, confused again by this constant push and pull between us. "Did I not just say that?" he says and before I'm able to respond the wine in question is brought to our table. "Your first course will be out in just a moment" the waiter from before says and he leaves us again as quickly as he had come.

"Try it" Jungkook says and waits for me to take a sip before he does the same. I do as he says and let the subtly sweet flavor envelop my tastebuds leaving me letting out an almost inaudible moan, surprised that wine could even taste this good. 

"Needless to say it is to your liking?" Jungkook asks, clearly amused with my reaction and I can't help but nod feeling embarrased. "Yes I guess you could say that" I respond awkwardly before taking another sip, trying to hide my reaction to it a bit more this time. 

~~~~~

The dinner goes on without a hitch. Jungkook and I actually engage in pleasant conversation and I end up learning a bit more about him. "So what you're saying is that because you hated how bratty and rude rich kids around you were when you were growing up that it made you want to become an etiquette teacher to fix the future generation of rich kids" I summaries, the thought of it almost laughable. 

"In so many words yes, I guess you could say that" he says, smiling at my simplified version. "So you've been a control freak from day one. I mean-" I say, my eyes wide while covering my mouth after I've realized what I had just said. "I think this wine has gone to your head y/n" he teases, this time using my name without any sort of formal title attached to it, somehow causing butterflies to stir in my stomach. 

"Yes you're probably right" I say, just now noticing the fact that he only had one glass at the beginning of our meal where as I am on my third. I set my glass down and start drinking water to hopefully clear up my head a bit but I guess the damage has been done. 

~~~~ 

As we walk out of the restaurant with my arm linked with his just as it had been before we went inside I turn to face him while we wait for the valet to bring the car around. "I'm sorry Mr. Jeon, what I had said in there was completely uncalled for" I say, admitting to my fault. "It's fine, I guess I have been quite harsh with you from the very start and that hasn't been very fair to you" he says, again surprising me with the walls that seem to be breaking down showing me what a kind and considerate person he can be. 

Before I can say anything else our car has stopped right in front of us and Jungkook leads me over to it and opens the door to help me inside, trying his best to maintain some sense of subtly at the fact that I might be a bit tipsy. Wanting to hopefully keep both of our images in tact. He closes the door after he's made sure that I'm all set and exchanges the keys with the ticket and gives the valet a tip before going to the drivers side and closing it behind him. 

He looks over at me and leans over towards me, leaving me confused and closing my eyes again just as I had done before in the practice room today and before I'm able to say anything I hear him pulling the seatbelt over and buckling it around me. I open my eyes and see that he's still close even though he had already fastened it and we both just sit there for what feels like hours studying each other's features. 

"Thank you" I say barely above a whisper which seems to break him out of the momentary trance he had been in for a few moments and sits back up straight mumbling a quick "You're welcome" before pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the road. 

Again the ride is silent but this one is filled with more of an awkward air to it with some sort of tension as well. What kind of tension is something I'm not sure of but he's definitely gotten close enough to kiss me on multiple occasions today alone but I'm not exactly sure if that's just the kind of guy he is or if there's something else going on in his head. 

~~~~~~

As we round the corner to my house I see Jesse's car parked outside with him sitting inside of it while on his phone. "Jesse?" I say aloud, perplexed as to why he would show up unannounced but I'm happy about it nonetheless. "Who's that?" Jungkook asks, his clear curiosity a surprise to me. "Just a friend" I say casually, trying to gauge his reaction and to my surprise I see the muscle in his jaw tense as he clenches his teeth a bit before tonguing his cheek soon after. 

When Jesse finally notices the car he looks up and smiles when he sees me and then looks over to the driver's side and sees Jungkook for the first time and gives him an unreadable expression. Unreadable if you're not familiar with him but with how close the two of us are I can tell that he's trying his hardest not to freak out after finally seeing him in person. 

As Jungkook moves his car further up the driveway Jesse makes his way up towards the house as well on foot, meeting us when Jungkook parks his car right outside the front door. "Jesse hey! Were we supposed to meet tonight?" I ask, still confused as to why he's here. "Yeah we were gonna watch a movie, remember?" he says in a voice much deeper than usual, throwing me off guard and checking out Jungkook who is standing right behind me. 

"Oh sorry Jesse this is Mr. Jeon, he's my teacher I had talked to you about. Jungkook, this is one of my friends from college Jesse" I say introducing the two, kind of catching on to the reason for Jesse's change in behavior. Jungkook comes closer and goes to shake Jesse's outstretched hand but still stands behind me, making him press up against my back, our bodies flush together for only a moment before he let's go and take's a few steps back to his previous spot. 

"Thank you for dinner Jungkook, I really enjoyed myself" I say turning to face him while Jesse makes his way over to the door waiting for us to say our goodbyes. "Jungkook?" Jungkook says, raising a brow at me, this being the first time I've used his first name. "I-I mean Mr. Jeon" I say, feeling flustered by my need for correction. 

"It's okay, you can call me that if you'd like" he say before reaching back into his car to grab my jacket and purse that I've left sitting in the passenger seat. "Oh, thank you" I say taking both of them and taking note of how he again brushes his hand up against mine. "Goodnight y/n" he says, placing his hand almost protectively on my waist before glancing over and giving Jesse a quick nod which he returns. 

"Goodnight" I say and quickly scurry off before I try to do something stupid and make matters worse and what I don't notice is how Jungkook closes the passenger side door and leans up against his car watching as I go and takes in the small interaction that Jesse and I have while I'm pulling out my keys to go inside. 

I only notice when I turn back around to close the door where we make eye contact for only a second before he pushes himself off of the side of the car and walks over to the drivers side and drives off. 

As I watch his car slowly disappear I don't take notice into the fact that I've slowly leaned further and further out of the doorway to watch him go until I hear Jesse's deep voice scare me half to death behind me. 

"Girl you got it bad" he says, laughing while I almost fall on my face from the precarious position I had put myself in. "I do not!" I say and turn around to close and lock the door before running up the steps to my room with Jesse hot on my heels. 

"Did you see the way he was looking at you? At me?" he laughs, seeing how defensive and flustered I am. "No" I continue and shush him so he doesn't wake up the whole house. "If looks could kill I would be six feet under" he says once we've gotten to my room. "Why were you acting all masculine out there? I mean not to say that you aren't masculine but you know what I mean" I say, pretty much knowing but wanting to make sure. 

"I wanted to see how he would react to another guy being around you. One that he thought was straight and close to you" he teases while throwing himself on my bed. "Why would you want to do that?" I question, taking off my heels and grabbing some clothes to go change in in my bathroom. "Because I wanted to see if he would get jealous and if jealous was a person his name would be Jeon Jungkook" he says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

"Why would he get jealous? He hates me" I say, not even believing the words that are coming out of my own mouth. "Please, he was practically green" he says laying on his back and picking up one of the books that I still haven't finished and thumbing through it. "He was not!" I say finding his observations ridiculous. 

"Did you see how possessive he got with you? How he purposefully leaned against you to shake my hand instead of going around. How he held your waist when he said goodnight. I'm pretty sure I heard him say that you could call him Jungkook now instead of Mr. Jeon right?" he lists, showing me what Jungkook's behaviors added all together really showed.

I groan after I come out of my bathroom, throwing myself on the bed next to him and staring up at the ceiling trying to process everything that happened today. "What am I supposed to think about all of this? What am I going to say when I see him tomorrow? What is he going to say?" I ask aloud, dreading the answers to these questions even though I know I won't be getting any answers tonight.

"Just go in tomorrow and act like everything is fine. Try out that more casual approach by calling him Jungkook like he told you you could. I don't know just take it easy and follow his lead and see where things go from there" he suggests and I take a deep breath, taking in everything he's saying and deciding the best thing I could do right now is try to distract myself. 

"Why are you here anyways?" I question, turning towards him now realizing that we never talked about him coming over tonight. "I wanted to hear about what happened after what you told me earlier today but I think I saw all that I needed to see" he says turning over to face me with a teasing smirk and I push him a little in response. 

"Do you wanna watch a movie?" he suggests. "Please" I groan out and he laughs at my response. While he turns on my tv I send Jungkook a quick message just trying to hopefully clear the air after what happened tonight. 

'Drive safe :)' I send before I can second guess myself. 

'Always x'  he responds almost immediately, leaving me smiling. Who knew that one little 'x' could make me so flustered.

prev / next Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie @hehurst23 @caro134340lina @ye0nvibezzn @olimpiiaa @hrtsj1m @junecat18 @ellesalazar @babycandy111 @felixz4life @lively-potter @esther-kpopstan @gyukookswhore @koohrs @skzthinker @vminkookgf @kookiescupcake0109 @itsyoooeui @latinapoetbts

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[eriscary]

Sorry, but can I ask this question? How do you imagine fell and swap options/versions of tear sans? (swap version of tear sans is not Napstablook! but his cousin Mettaton! Mettablook? Hutstablook or whatever?)

Oh wow. Tear variant/different AU questions already? Consider my answer a headcanon, as I'm not gonna be creating and developing these AUs.

Fell Tear loathes Sans, because canon UF!Blooky loathes anyone affiliated with Asgore/Alphys. But in reality it's somewhat of a love-hate situation. Sans has qualities UF!Tear finds themselves respecting and admiring, but they can't help but hate the guy regardless for the side he found himself on. They pretty much become a Sans to show they can do everything better, while trying to gain said qualities themselves. The biggest one being how Fell Sans gets general respect from monsters. Monsters just avoid ever messing with the skeleton brothers. UF!Tear could be a little jealous that a part of it feels handed over, just because of who their brother is. Even though realistically, Sans had to work for it too. UF!Tear also respects Sanses visual 'scare factor'. Underfell is all about looking edgy and more intimidating than Undertale cast. I imagine that UF!Tear design would likely wear some torn jacket (like their blooky body sheet). It used to be this brand new looking jacket. It ends up badly torn in places from magic attacks in UF!Tear's attempts of 'getting respect'. But because of how painfully honest they are about their opinions and not keeping it to themselves, they end up hurting others. It results in a bunch of fights. They are surprisingly not that bad of a person despite it all, as long as you aren't on their bad side. Might still say some hurtful things to you though.

Swap Tear/Mettaton Tear would just have to be something about entertainment. In Undertale, just like Tear did, Mettaton already acts on their greatest wish. They want to be a celebrity, known in the entertainment industry. Maybe Swap Tear gets their body for the same reasons the game Mettaton got his. Maybe they are in the stage of just deciding to act on their goals and they see this tiny skeleton with oh so much energy. And every time chasing their dream gets hard, they remember Sans powering through everything. And it fuels them to always strive for more, always try that much harder. They need to work harder to become a popular entertainer. And that means they need to pass the barrier to get even humans to watch them. Swap Tear needs to be 'the best of both worlds' to achieve true greatness. But they also wanna be acknowledged and liked by Sans. And what is the closest, not-craftable, monster body to resemble a human? a skeleton. And who are they trying to impress the most? a skeleton. Probably fights the other 'mettaton' on the popularity leaderboards.