#wow you’re reading all the tags?! Impressive!!

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)

minors dni

Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex

You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.

"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!" 

You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.

Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.

Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.

And isn’t that just. . . adorable?

The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery. 

Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun

"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"

You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"

"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”

“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.

“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?

Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"

Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”

He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”

Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”

Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.

Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"

Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.

You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.

He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.

“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”

You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”

“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”

“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.

You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“

Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”

You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.

“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.

Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.

Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.

“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”

He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.

“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”

You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.

“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”

You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.

“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”

You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.

Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”

His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.

His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”

Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”

“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”

You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“

He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”

You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”

Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.

Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”

You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.

Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”

You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.

Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”

You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”

He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”

You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.

Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”

You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.

Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.

You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”

You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.

After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.

His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”

His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.

“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”

You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.

But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.

“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”

You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.

Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.

He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for a long time. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond what you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[wcnderlnds]

false hope | peter maximoff

✧ fluff/angstober day four | false hope ✧

・❥・warnings: some swearing・❥・ authors note: this is bad bc my brain just did not want to work with me hence why its a short one. also shoutout to my best friend @xmidnight-rain for the idea because i was struggling.

It was the way he carried your books to class for you, the way he offered you his jacket on cold nights, the way he always shot you a smile when you walked into a room. Those were just a few of the reasons why you were hopelessly in love with Peter Maximoff. From the very second you’d met him when you arrived at the school you’d been drawn to him. His friendly nature had pulled you in but it was his sweet, quirky personality that had made you stay. Everyday he’d always seek you out to tell you his latest joke or show you the newest thing he’d bought stole. Any compliment he threw your way made you blush, the butterflies in your stomach going into overdrive. There hadn’t been any other man that had ever made you feel this way.

You were almost certain he felt the same way, too.

Except…. he didn’t.

It was a normal day – like any other. Peter had asked you yesterday if you wanted to go out for food. With how he was flirting with you aand the big smile on his face, you'd figured it was a date. That was your first mistake. It had all been going well until Peter had leaned in and – being the complete fool that you were – you leaned in too thinking he was going for a kiss but nope. The second your lips touched his, he had speeded across the room with wide eyes.

“Wh-what… are you doing?” He asked, flustered.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry… I thought…”

“No! No, I mean… no.”

“Well, geez, thanks Peter,” you bit out sarcastically. His instant dismissal hurt.. Peter must have seen the look in your eyes because instantly he was back in front of you, his hands gently resting on the tops of your arms.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” He sighed. Words were never his strong suit so he had to think of how to phrase this without hurting you. “I don’t see you in that way. You’re my friend. My pal.”

Ouch. If your heart wasn’t hurting before then it definitely was now. All the signs had been there. How could you have read it so wrong? Were you really one of those people that thought someone being nice to you meant they liked you? You brushed his hands off you, taking a step back from him. There was no way you could be so close to him now that you’d made a fool of yourself.

“But… I thought…” Tears stung at your eyes. Were they from being upset or the utter humiliation you’d just suffered? “I thought you liked me too. You… always flirt with me and give me your jacket and… wow, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No, hey, no you’re not. Maybe I gave off the wrong impression. I’m the idiot and I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you. That’s never been my intention. Your friendship means the world to me. I don’t have that many true friends, y’know? People who listen to me and actually want to be around me. I lead you on without realising it and I’m sorry,” he frowned, a hand running through his hair. “I should’ve been more clear.”

“Yeah.” Using the sleeve of your sweater, you wiped at your eyes. There was no way you were going to cry in front of him and make an even bigger fool of yourself. “I think I’m just gonna go now. I’ve humiliated myself enough.”

Peter made a move to grab your arm but thought better of it. He knew you needed time even if it hurt him to know that he’d hurt your feelings. So, he let you go to give you the space he knew you needed. 

tag list (ask to be added!): @juliamaximoff @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @xmidnight-rain @honeymoon8

[kbwrites]

JJK On The Road!

synopsis: how the jjk sorcerers are on a road trip—feat. Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Utahime

⚝a/n: I had to include baby boy Haibara.

⚝tags: headcanon, Nanami is an emo boy, Gojo is a danger to society.

They all decided to take a roadtrip after graduation… it goes a little something like this

Gojo insisted that he be the one to drive. You assumed that his six eyes would give him some kind of advantage on the road.

You were SO wrong.

Mans is a DEMON on the street. Swerving in and out of traffic, the car is either at 0 or full speed no in-between.

“Huh? Where’d that guy come from?”

“Satoru you literally cut him off-”

“The speed limit is 45”

“Yeah… but that’s more of a suggestion right??”

Of course it isn’t long before you hear the sirens closing in behind you.

“Lisence and registration please.”

“Of course Officer!”

…

“This is your high school ID”

“Oh! Well about that..”

It takes at least 5 years off your life when Satoru is behind the wheel. You somehow manage to arrive to the destination in one piece. Everyone curses him out for endangering their lives (and driving with no license)

“Okay but did you die though?”

Geto is in charge of the AUX (because last time Nanami made everyone cry)

Is the type to put on some chill oldies, and one Abba song (Because Satoru loves Abba).

Loves looking out the window and pointing out cool stuff, bums a cigarette off of Shoko to deal with the stress of Satoru's driving.

“Hey. look at that huge tree.”

The car swerves.

“Wait I don’t see anything!”

“Not you Satoru…”

Is obviously shotgun so he tries his best to stay awake, probably ends up reading a book he brought or reminding Satoru to actually pay attention to the rules of the road.

Shoko is already bored when the car starts, plays “I Spy” with Suguru for all of 3 minutes before falling asleep. After her nap she wakes up and starts taking pictures. Can make even the most mundane thing like riding in car look like an aesthetic Pinterest board. Sneaks pictures of Nanami when he isn’t looking.

“Everyone smile.”

“Wait hold on I want to be in the picture too!”

“Satoru you’re DRIVING.”

Ends up vlogging the trip, texting Utahime to confirm Satoru hasn’t killed them yet.

Nanami did NOT want to go on this trip AT ALL. He was basically forced by Gojo (then coerced by Haibara). He sulks and looking out the window and sighing.

“Nanami stop being Emo”

“I am NOT Emo..”

“Will you stop sulking if I play My Chemical Romance?”

“....”

Brings his DS or something, shows Haibara his animal crossing world. Actually freaks out when Satoru takes a ‘scenic detour’ which adds 3 hours to the trip.

Haibara is in charge of the snacks. And thank god for snacks. 

Brings one cooler for everyone else and one cooler just for Satoru cause that boy can EAT.

Feeds Nanami trail mix

Talks Nanami’s ear off about how excited he is to be done with school </3. Tries to impress Suguru and Satoru by listing off fun facts about each area they drive through.

“Did you know that this is actually the longest stretch of road in the country?”

“Wow. That’s really Something.”

“Did you know that the native flower of this region is the hibiscus?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you know that AHHH”

 Satoru swerves the car again, everyone gets thrown around the car.

Utahime  refuses to ride in a car with Gojo driving, so she meets up with you guys in her own car.

[estapa-edwards]

"Team Sweetheart" and "Physical Therapist" are so gorgeous I've reread them both like 10 times! They leave me so full of butterflies I am positively buzzing! May I please make a request with Jack and a girl who has no knowledge/familiarity with hockey, or any sports for that matter? Maybe just them introducing eachother to their interests/worlds as their relationship develops and it's just nice to be with someone a bit removed from what Jack's life is centered around. Idk if that makes sense please ignore this if you don't like it.

CONNECTION - J . HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x reader

word count: 2k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Jack Hughes walked into the quiet café, eager for a break from the relentless pace of his hockey-centered life. The New Jersey Devils had been having a grueling season, and every moment off the ice felt like a precious escape. The café, tucked away in a corner of downtown Newark, had become his haven. Today, however, he was greeted by an unfamiliar face behind the counter.

“Hi, welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get you?” the girl asked with a warm smile. Her name tag read "Y/N."

Jack glanced at the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers flying over the buttons of the register. “Coming right up. Are you from around here?”

Jack hesitated. Despite his growing fame, he still enjoyed the anonymity of casual encounters. “Yeah, I live nearby. What about you?”

Y/N handed him his change and started preparing his coffee. “I just moved here for school. Trying to get the hang of the city and all.”

Jack smiled. “It’s a great place once you get to know it. What are you studying?”

“Art history. I know, it’s not exactly the most practical major, but it’s my passion,” she said with a slight laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”

Jack paused, unsure of how to respond. “I’m... in sports,” he said vaguely.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hesitation. “Any particular sport?”

“Hockey,” he admitted. “I play for the New Jersey Devils.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, I don’t really follow sports. But that sounds impressive!”

Jack chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of refreshing to meet someone who isn’t obsessed with hockey.”

Y/N handed him his coffee. “Well, I’m glad I could provide a break from the norm. Enjoy your coffee!”

As Jack took a seat by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had met in a long time. He found himself looking forward to his next visit to the café.

--- --- --- 

Over the next few weeks, Jack found himself returning to Brewed Awakening more often. Each time, he and Y/N would chat for a few minutes, their conversations growing more personal with each encounter. Jack learned that Y/N was passionate about art, spending her weekends exploring museums and galleries. She, in turn, learned about Jack’s rigorous training schedule and the pressures of professional sports.

One rainy afternoon, Jack entered the café, drenched from practice. Y/N greeted him with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”

“Just a long one,” he replied, shaking off his wet jacket. “Do you have a break coming up? I’d love to hear more about this art thing you’re always talking about.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I do. Give me five minutes to finish up here.”

A few minutes later, Y/N joined Jack at his table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. “So, where should I start?”

“Tell me about your favorite artist,” Jack suggested, genuinely curious.

Y/N’s face brightened. “That’s a tough one, but I’d have to say Vincent van Gogh. His work is so emotional and raw. There’s something incredibly moving about the way he saw the world.”

Jack listened intently as Y/N described van Gogh’s turbulent life and vibrant paintings. He found himself captivated by her passion and the way she brought the art to life with her words.

“You should come to the museum with me sometime,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I think you’d really enjoy it.”

Jack smiled. “I’d like that. And maybe I can take you to a hockey game in return?”

Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to explain everything to me. I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”

Jack chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”

--- --- --- 

Their first outing together was to the Newark Museum of Art. Jack was out of his element but excited to see the world through Y/N’s eyes. As they wandered through the galleries, Y/N explained the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.

“This is one of my favorites,” she said, stopping in front of a large, colorful painting. “It’s called ‘Starry Night Over the Rhône’ by van Gogh. Look at the way the stars and the reflections in the water create this almost dreamlike scene.”

Jack stared at the painting, trying to see it the way Y/N did. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally. “I can see why you like it so much.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Art has always been a way for me to escape, to see the world differently.”

Jack nodded, understanding more than he expected. “Hockey is like that for me. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades away.”

A few days later, it was Y/N’s turn to step into Jack’s world. She had agreed to attend one of his games, despite her lack of knowledge about hockey. Jack had arranged for her to have a prime seat, and as she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The arena was buzzing with energy, fans cheering and waving signs. Y/N watched in awe as the players took to the ice, their speed and skill mesmerizing. She spotted Jack, his focus intense as he prepared for the game.

Throughout the match, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering along with the crowd even though she didn’t fully understand the rules. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time Jack made a play, his talent and dedication evident in every move.

After the game, Jack met her outside the locker room, still in his gear and grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was amazing!” Y/N exclaimed. “I had no idea hockey could be so intense. You were incredible out there.”

Jack laughed, relieved that she had enjoyed herself. “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can make a fan out of you yet.”

Y/N smiled. “Maybe. But only if you keep coming to art galleries with me.”

“Deal,” Jack agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him. Despite their different worlds, he felt a connection with Y/N that he hadn’t felt with anyone else.

--- --- --- 

​​As the weeks turned into months, Jack and Y/N grew closer, finding comfort in their contrasting interests. They delighted in introducing each other to new experiences, each outing deepening their bond.

One sunny Saturday, Jack found himself at a local art supply store with Y/N. She was on a mission to find the perfect set of watercolors for a new project. Jack followed her through the aisles, amused by her enthusiasm.

"Do you paint?" Jack asked, curious.

"I dabble," Y/N replied with a grin. "Mostly for fun, though. It’s a great way to relax and let my mind wander."

Jack picked up a brush, twirling it between his fingers. "Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’ve never really done anything like this."

Y/N’s eyes lit up. "I’d love to! It’s really not about being perfect, just about expressing yourself."

A few days later, Y/N set up a makeshift studio in her apartment, covering the table with newspapers and setting out a variety of paints and brushes. Jack arrived, looking both excited and apprehensive.

"Ready to become the next Van Gogh?" Y/N teased, handing him a canvas.

Jack laughed. "I think that might be a stretch, but I’m ready to give it a shot."

As they painted side by side, Y/N offered gentle guidance, encouraging Jack to experiment with colors and shapes. Despite his initial uncertainty, Jack found himself enjoying the process. It was a welcome change from the structured, high-pressure world of hockey.

"You’re a natural," Y/N said, admiring Jack’s painting of a snowy landscape.

Jack shook his head with a chuckle. "I think you’re just being nice, but thanks. This is actually really fun."

Y/N smiled, pleased to see Jack so relaxed. "See? I knew you’d enjoy it."

Their relationship continued to flourish, each new experience bringing them closer together. Jack took Y/N to more games, patiently explaining the rules and strategies. Y/N, in turn, took Jack to more art exhibits and even a few art classes.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a quiet diner, sharing a plate of fries. Jack looked at Y/N, feeling a surge of gratitude.

"You know, I never thought I’d enjoy learning about art so much," Jack admitted. "But being with you has opened my eyes to so many new things."

Y/N reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "And I never thought I’d enjoy sports, but you’ve made it so much fun. It’s nice to have someone to share these experiences with."

Jack smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite their different backgrounds, they had found a way to connect on a profound level. It was a rare and precious thing, and Jack knew he wanted to hold onto it.

--- --- ---

As their relationship grew stronger, Jack and Y/N began to face the challenges that came with their differing worlds. Jack’s demanding schedule often kept them apart, and Y/N’s art exhibitions sometimes took her to different cities.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week of practice and games, Jack called Y/N, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I miss you," he admitted. "It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages."

Y/N sighed, feeling the distance keenly. "I miss you too. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it. How about we plan something special for next weekend? Just us."

Jack’s spirits lifted at the thought. "That sounds perfect. Let’s go somewhere quiet, away from everything."

The following weekend, they escaped to a cabin in the woods, a peaceful retreat where they could unwind and reconnect. They spent their days hiking through the forest, cooking meals together, and sitting by the fire, talking about everything and nothing.

One evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the sunset, Jack took Y/N’s hand. "I’m really glad we’re doing this," he said softly. "It’s exactly what I needed."

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s nice to just be us, without all the noise."

As they sat in comfortable silence, Jack realized how much Y/N meant to him. She had become his anchor, a source of joy and calm in his hectic life. He knew their relationship wasn’t always easy, but he was willing to face any challenge as long as they were together.

With the hockey season winding down, Jack finally had more time to spend with Y/N. They began to talk about their future, their conversations filled with excitement and hope.

One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a local park, lying on a blanket and watching the clouds drift by. Jack turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Have you ever thought about what comes next for us?" he asked.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "I think about it all the time. I want us to keep exploring new things together, to keep supporting each other’s passions."

Jack nodded, feeling a sense of certainty. "I want that too. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Your dreams are just as important as mine."

Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jack’s face. "And I’m here for you, always. We’ll figure it out together."

As they lay there, hand in hand, Jack knew they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives. It wouldn’t always be easy, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready for anything. They had built a strong foundation, one based on mutual respect and a genuine love for each other’s worlds. And as they looked towards the future, they knew that together, they could face whatever came their way.

[yan-lorkai]

I have a few ask options if you don’t mind? for my man and loml chrollo lucilfer

1) yandere Chrollo with a really cute and sweet darling who loves the colour pink and her whole bedroom is pink and so is her personality, so he kinda fawns and dotes over her and treats her like glass

2) yandere chrollo with a witty sarcastic darling whose nen has been taken away, and they’re at the beach for a fun day

3) yandere Chrollo with a darling who usually begrudgingly shows affection but she’s been hit with an aphrodisiac from some enemy of Chrollo’s or something and so shes drooling for Chrollo and any touch he’ll give and he ofc loves that

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Those were all interesting ideas but being sarcastic to Chrollo made my brain ache in a good way so I'm going with that idea here, darling! Plus shout out to that darling that said it would be funny if the reader had a more Gen z vocabulary, bcs this got hilarious 😂

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @kurtswld

You sit on the warm sand, the waves crashing rhythmically in the distance, the sun bright overhead. It would be a beautiful day at the beach if not for the man lounging beside you, casually reading a book as if he hadn’t practically kidnapped you here.

Chrollo looks calm, almost serene, but you know better. Behind those dark eyes is a predator, waiting, watching, and ready to strike if you step out of line.

You sigh dramatically, tilting your head back and letting the sun soak into your skin. “I can’t believe you dragged me out here for some... ‘fun in the sun’ nonsense. What’s next? Building sandcastles? Catching crabs and shells?” You glance over at him with a smirk, waiting to see if your sarcasm will get a rise out of him.

Chrollo barely lifts his eyes from his book, but the faintest smile tugs at his lips. “Would you rather I kept you locked up inside?” His tone is smooth, unbothered, almost teasing. “I thought a change of scenery might lift your spirits, plus every human being needs some vitamin D.”

“Oh, wow, how considerate of you,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes. “You take my Nen, kidnap me, and now you’re trying to act like my sugar daddy or something. Real ‘slay,’ Chrollo.”

This time, he looks up, and there’s a glimmer of amusement in his gaze. “Slay?” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Ah, yes. That’s what you say when someone does something impressive, right?”

“You got it, boomer,” you quip, knowing full well that calling him that would only serve to annoy him. You can’t help but grin when you see his eyes narrow slightly. “I mean, if ‘impressive’ is synonymous with ‘murderous psycho who likes playing with his food,’ then yeah, you’re totally slaying.”

He leans closer, setting the book down, and you can feel the shift in the air — the way his attention sharpens on you, even though his expression remains relaxed. “Careful now, darling. I might start thinking you enjoy pushing my buttons.”

You swallow but hold your ground, despite the little thrill of fear creeping up your spine. “Oh, yeah, this is my dream vacation, Chrollo. #KidnapGoals. Maybe I’ll even post about it, if you ever let me have my phone back.”

Chrollo chuckles softly, the sound low and dangerous. “You’re witty, I’ll give you that. But let’s not forget why we’re here. I could have brought you anywhere, yet I chose a place where you could relax. Perhaps you should show a little more gratitude.”

“Gratitude? Pfft, okay, sure. ‘Thanks for ruining my life, now let’s go get ice cream.’” You shoot him a mockingly sweet smile, winking at him while you had the chance. “Honestly, I think you’re the one who needed this beach day. Trying to remind yourself what normal people do for fun?”

Chrollo’s smile widens, and it sends a chill through you. “If I wanted to know what normal people do, I wouldn’t be here with you, darling. But I do enjoy your company. Even if you insist on using those bizarre phrases.”

You can’t help but snort. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m such a vibe, right?”

He tilts his head, considering your words. “Indeed. A most intriguing... vibe.” He leans closer, his lips almost brushing your ear, and your breath catches. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten how you keep testing my patience. There are limits, even for you.”

The warning is clear, but you refuse to let it dampen your spirit. “Noted. But if I’m stuck here, I might as well have a little fun, right?”

He pulls back, still smiling, but his eyes are dark, dangerous. “By all means, darling. Have your fun. Just remember, I’m the one who decides when it ends.”

You force yourself to grin, even as your heart pounds loudly on your chest. “Oh, don’t worry, Chrollo. I’m having a blast. Really. #LivingMyBestLife.”

For a moment, there’s silence between you, the sound of the waves filling the space. And then he chuckles again, softer this time, almost as if he’s genuinely amused. “I do enjoy your spirit,” he murmurs, his voice low. “It makes you all the more interesting to keep you around.”

You know better than to push your luck further, so you settle back on the sand, trying to enjoy the sun while you can. Because with Chrollo, you’re never sure how long these moments of “normalcy” will last before he decides to tighten the chains again.

And his smile is far too scarier to look at for more than 5 seconds. You would rather not look, nor hear him chuckling.

[weskin-time]

listen, i'm throwing this request in here because we frankly don't get enough of this in the x reader tag, character x injured/sick!reader. it doesn't even have to be anything super angsty if you don't want it to be. like i just want the fluff of an overwatch character fretting over reader with a sprained ankle lmao

(any characters are okay tbh, write for whoever you have ideas for!)

Hello anon!! i hope this works for you! i had a lot of fun writing this and i might make more later on. >:3

please give me more OW requests. mm brain rot <3

TBH i don’t really like genjis one i might rewrite it later on so keep an eye out for a post

D.Va, Genji, Ramattra X GN!Hurt/Sick!Reader

Not beta read

cw- injury, pain,

Hana “D.Va” Song

gaming with your girlfriend was almost mandatory as you started your relationship

you were fine with that, in fact you were happy to join in her streams and hang out with D.Va and finish to get some quiet time with Hana.

But. you two played different types of games.

You loved character driven story games, open worlds and side quests

and she was a world champion, mmorpgs, real time strategy games, fast paced games you never really tried

But she asked one day if you wanted to play LOL with her on stream you said yes of course

but wow was it a learning curve, and a new thing you had to adapt to. fast paced clicking and key mashing hurt your fingers and wrists.

you have no idea how Hana doesn’t have wrist problems worse then she does if you just played for a few days and your pointer finger felt stuck and pain would throb in your forearms.

Hana ended stream that night and took a breath to regain her self. You were chilling in the same room as her, her set up more impressive than yours as you turned off your own PC and turned your chair to face her.

Getting up from your semi uncomfortable office chair you walked over to her as she stretched, you went to grab her water bottle to refill it for her but as soon as your hand grabbed the bottle pain shot through your forearm and wrist making you involuntarily wince.

Her eyes shot to you in worry before she completely understood what happened, “Aww I hope i didn’t push you too hard that last round.”

You chuckled and shook out your arms, it really didn’t do much. “It’s hard to keep up with you in these games Ms Professional ESports World Champion.”

It was her turn to laugh, “Get good.” She got up and grabbed the bottle herself and shut down her PC. “You good though? Got Gamers wrist?”

“Up my forearms and everything, clicking finger is sore too.” You flex your fingers trying to get the stiff feeling out.

“Didn’t you used to play a religious amount of Cookie Clicker back in the day, without auto clicker?” She points out as you follow her out of y’all’s gaming room and to the kitchen.

You have a scoff, “My child self didn’t know what that was, i was rich on cookies. And it didn’t hurt all this bad.” You rested against the island.

She paused by the fridge, filling her bottle up with the water. “I have some extra wrist braces if you’d like, they work wonders.”

“Please.” Your response came instantly before you could even process the last part of her sentence. It made her snort with how desperate you sounded and she almost overflowed her bottle.

“Come here, give me your arms.” She turned around and leaned against the other side of the island in front of you.

You did and held out your forearms to her with a confused look.

She wrapped her hands around for forearms and began to squeeze them, massaging them firmly, perfectly in the place where it hurt the most. A whine left your throat at the feeling of sore pain meeting soft comforting pain. Her fingers dug into the meat gently as she circled the muscle, slowly making her way down to your wrists where she provided the same treatment. Your head rested on the island counter as you slumped over, heaven was in her hands.

“Thank you Hana.”

“You’re welcome bunny.”

——————————————————————

Genji Shimada

sleep deprivation sucked.

2-3 hours a night was all you were going off of. it wasn’t enough to keep your brain healthy or your body.

constant headaches, unfocused eyes, micro sleep, confusion, it all was ass

but there was nothing you could do in the moment to fix it, you just kept staying awake at night to either game or finish work projects and paperwork.

sickness sometimes finds you when you’re like this, nauseous from lack of sleep, headaches making your eyes hurt.

you tried your best to fight back the sleep that demanded itself, but failed.

Genji was silent in his approach to your desk, you knew he was there, you could sense him.

Your laptop was too bright, your eyes were unfocused and you could barely feel yourself slowly lean forward to the desks surface. A hand on your shoulder wakes you up enough to realize you were holding down a single key on your keyboard and the open document on your screen now had a long line of Vs.

“Hiya Genji.” you slur almost, as you closed your eyes only for the entire world to pulse around you, sounds were too sharp and too dull at the same time, breathing in and out seemed to take all your strength, but your strength was elsewhere trying to fight off sleep.

“You don’t look too good.” He stated flatly, his helmet off as he rested in comfortable clothing.

You glance up to see him, eyes focusing on his face, “Thanks.” was all you had the energy to respond with.

He looked at your laptop, reading what you were writing but telling by his confused and concerned face you think you just wrote gibberish that your brain thought sounded like a normal sentence.

“How long have you been awake?” His voice dripping with concern but his voice buzzed in your ears and bounced around your head for a second before you could process what he said.

“I’ve had 5 hours of sleep this week.” You yawn and look away from his wide eyed expression.

It was Saturday. 11pm.

Your body didn’t have enough energy to even move it felt like.

“Okay,” he dragged out the word and closed your laptop. “Let’s get you to bed yea?” The way he said it made you know there was no changing his mind.

You didn’t want to admit you needed sleep but at the same time your head was throbbing and the thought of cuddling with your Genji was enough to perk you up more.

You mumbled out an okay before trying to stand on wobbly knees, your body feeling light yet heavy at the same time. A flesh hand came to steady you and hold you before you heard a sigh and suddenly you were swept off your feet and being carried to the bedroom.

“You need to take better care of yourself.” Concern laced his words as he placed you on the bed carefully.

“I know I know,” you made a grabby hand motion at him and he smiles, soon making his way to the bed as well, cuddling up beside you. You used his still flesh side as a pillow as he laid on his back. “I’m sorry Genji.”

He ran fingers along your scalp, scratching softly, putting you in a trance. “I know you don’t do field work anymore but you still need to rest.”

“I will, I will.” Was all you could mumble out before almost instantly falling asleep. the last thing you felt was his lips against your forehead.

The next morning Genji barley let you leave the bedroom after you slept for nearly 14 hours. He made you food and sat and ate with you in the bed while the two of you watched Cowboy Bebop. Your work could wait till monday, you just wanted to enjoy the last day of the weekend resting with him.

—————————————————————

Ramattra

you were out for a walk with Ramattra

the spring air buzzed with life as you two passed by trees, bird song filling silence, bees resting on flowers as they bumbled their fat little bodies around

it was a nice walk, one to clear your mind and his systems, just to think and be together

you didn’t see a tree root and you fell and ate dirt, twisting your ankle

“oh ow ow ow ow ow.” you let out a string of curses from behind clenched teeth.

Your ankle throbbed, it felt warm and tingly at the same time, pain shooting through your foot and up your shin. You do what your dumb brain tells you to and you roll it to make sure it’s not broken, thankfully it isn’t but the pain takes the air from your lungs with a sharp gasp.

Ramattra stared down at you on the ground, unmoving as he studied you. He watched as you tried to get back up with only the use of one leg, holding onto a tree for support as you stood with your leg raised like a dog that’s paw got stepped on.

“Fragile things you humans are. You tripped and now you can’t stand?” His voice wasn’t as harsh as it once was many moons ago, but he still said it with some form of exasperation.

You set your foot on the ground, testing it and instantly regretting it as pain erupts again.

You ignore his comment, “Oh gods I don’t know if i can walk back.”

“Weakling.” He said but held out his arm for you to take. There was no malice in his vocal synthesizers.

You did, leaning against him. Thanking him as you both turned around and took a step to head back to base. As you tried to put weight on your ankle you winced and let out a hiss.

“I really fucked myself up good.” You laugh a little as you stare down at your feet.

“Do you need me to carry you?” His voice buzzed with slight concern, you wouldn’t have noticed it unless you had spent enough time with the Omnic, and you have.

You look up at him with a smirk, a look that pokes him, “You goin soft on me Ram?”

He tenses a tiny tiny bit more than he already was, “No!” He said a bit too quickly. “It would take us ages to get back with your condition and I am not going to wait on you. It would be faster for me to carry you there. Simple.”

You ponder for a second, before nodding your head. Why would you ever give up the opportunity to be carried by this giant?

Ramattra let’s out a fake sigh and grabs you by the midsection, lifting you up and placing your butt on his right shoulder. You were expecting to be carried in his arms but sitting on his shoulder was way more fun already. You felt like a bird resting on his broad shoulders.

“Thanks, you big softie.” You pat his head to make your point.

He moves his right arm to hold your hips, keeping you stable and you use his arm as a grip. “I’m not doing this for you.” He grumbled but the way he made sure you weren’t going to fall off said otherwise.

He waited for you to give the word and he started to make his way back, you on his shoulder and enjoying being really tall.

[babiebom]

Hello!! Soooo I was reading your headcannons about Shane going with his S/O to the mines and that got me thinking. How would the Bachelors (and maybe also the Bachelorettes) react to a Gn S/O who kicks a slime or other monster in the face which kills it instantly? The Bachelors/Bachelorettes are either shocked or impressed as the S/O explains they just are really good at kicking and could probably break open a rock if they wanted to.

A/N: brother i do not remember writing that but I probably did and forgot bc let’s face it I forget things pretty easily. The bachelorettes will be a separate post because I’m taking too long posting this. Also sorry this is late. Also also my writing has gotten slower because I have taken up making music and have currently a couple songs that I’m working on including one from my farmers pov about Sebastian so y’know with that and work a lot of things are going on lmao. Pt.2 I have a cold again because of work.

Tw: violence, cursing, mentions of death, killing slimes lmao, lmk if I should tag anything else

Bc/Wc: maybe 3 for each. Maybe more? At least 100 words me thinks for each.

Stardew valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Literally just blinks and is like ….okay :|

It’s probably not surprising to him that you kicked a monster to death

Sticks to swinging a bat at them (I think he would have a bat or like a pipe or something) but thinks it’s cool that you have hand to hand…or monster to foot combat down.

Sebastian stares as you kick a duggy to death. It honestly was getting in the way of you digging for treasure and nipping at your ankles every time you weren’t paying attention. It only took one good kick for it to die and as you breathe out a puff of air in frustration, your boyfriend simply nods to himself and continues the search for anything you could donate to the museum.

“Are you gonna say anything?” You ask

He just shrugs in response, “no not really…”

In all honesty he figured you had to have a way to survive down here for hours. While kicking wasn’t the usual way, it did work and that’s all that really matters to him.

Sam

Probably did not realize at first and was like okay yeah cool it’s dead

Then realized and probably shouted VERY LOUDLY

Thinks it’s super cool because WHAT?

The stupid things take SO long to die. You kill them and they just come right back unless you blow it up…or give it a good kick to the face out of annoyance. Sam’s eyebrows raise for a second before he continues to break rocks, wanting to get this adventure over with.

Then comes the excited shouting. He’s holding you by your shoulders, shaking you and yelling words that don’t quite make it to your ears. “Sam, please!” You shout over him, the echoing sounds starting to hurt your head.

“I’m sorry,” he lets go of you but is still bouncing in place, “but that was so cool! I wanna kick things!”

Shane

Openly thinks it’s hot

Is very relieved because he never comes down into the mines and does at least want to know you’re safe

Steals your kicking strategy because it is quicker and more efficient

Do those things ever die? Can a skeleton die? How can a skeleton even be alive if not inside a per-okay they’re kicking it….and it’s dead. Wow.

Shane just stares in slight confusion as his mind races to catch up with the events that just unfolded in front of him. It was kinda fun taking out his feelings on monsters that were technically picking a fight first, but then thinking about the morality and the actual logic of it all distracted him until you actually kick a real life skeleton in the face causing it to finally permanently die. He says nothing to you, but does give you an amused smirk before adopting your strategy as his own. Kicking is way more fun than hitting rocks anyways.

Alex

Secretly thinks it’s hot

Would also try to kick things

Would want to do a playful contest to see how much stuff you two can damage honestly.

It thew Alex off when the rock he had hit with a pickaxe started moving. It threw him off even further when said rock pinched him with its apparent pincers that he didn’t even know it had. His brain completely left his skull when you kicked the thing to death with one good stomp because it had pinched him.

It didn’t even hurt that much because he wasn’t paying any attention to his wound and instead staring at you with what could only be described as adoration. Alex clears his throat and grind at you, “how ‘bout a kicking contest? Winner gets a prize”.

“What prize?” You ask, confused about his reaction. You thought he would be in a little pain at least.

“Whatever the winner decides I guess…” you shake his outstretched hand. This was going to go well for you. Now all there is left to do is think about what you want as your prize.

Harvey

Would be absolutely floored.

Like THIS IS NOT SAFE BUT OH MY GOD IMPRESSIVE

He is never coming into the mines again but at least his anxiety has gone down just a little bit (well went up then down so technically it is lower than previously).

The little thing on the ground wasn’t terrifying in the slightest, but your ferocity in destroying it made Harvey think that it was more serious than he understood it to be. Don’t get him wrong, all of the things in this mine could kill someone easily, but the monster that looked like a big ass worm didn’t really seem like a big deal compared to everything else you two had come across.

His mouth hung open as he stared at you as you glared at the stained spot where the worm thing used to be. “It would’ve turned into a monster that could fly.” You offer as soon as you turn to look at him. He nods and makes a mental note to get you muscle relaxers or something because your legs definitely have to be sore after this.

Elliott

Is MORTIFIED

like he was not expecting you to do that at ALL

The mines aren’t his favorite place and he’s glad you can defend yourself but it’s also TERRIFYING.

Probably will insert this into one of his novels where you’re already a character because it’s hot.

The bouncing little jelly things were more dangerous than Elliott had expected. Sure, he knew to some degree that you being tough was a fact because you were in these mines damn near every day for hours at a time. Whenever you came back home after a trip to the mines, covered in bruises and cuts after midnight, he always felt thankful that you had made it back home alive. But this was more than he expected. If something that looked this harmless could make him feel heavy and tired enough to wanna just lay down and die, how strong were the other monsters that lived in these mines?

Snapping out of his distracted thoughts, he watches as everything happens too quickly in front of him, rendering him unable to help because you got everything under control before he could even think to help. In one second you’re hissing in pain after a slime that you both had missed crashed into you, then the next your foot lifts up and then kicks the slime across the room. The thing splatters into goo on the wall as you check yourself for any serious injuries. Elliott calls out to you in shock, rushing over to also look over you because he wouldn’t be fully calm without checking you himself.

As you two stand in the now empty room, checking each other for any injuries that might make you leave early, Elliott can’t help but think that a sexy strong love interest in his novels is just what he needs to make his work skyrocket in popularity.

[eyelessfaces]

out of sight, out of mind

poe dameron x reader

this fic is the prequel to better safe than sorry. therefore it doesn't really matter if you haven't read it because it's a PREquel, but then you know what to read next :)

better safe than sorry masterlist

summary: saying that you're terrified at the idea of losing someone you love again is an understatement. poe dameron happens to be the most reckless person you know.

warnings: reader has trauma and ptsd, mentions of death, angst (I mean, a lot), mentions of injuries, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, absolute idiots in love, friends to lovers, poe is in love, reader makes questionable choices but she has trauma okay, poe is so very sweet in this and it has me screaming, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 7.1k (personal record for a one shot, wow)

huge thanks to @eatingyouryoung for beta reading and for motivating me, supporting me and most of all bearing with me and the multiple mental breakdowns I had while writing this. love you bestie, thank you, really. <3

masterlist | taglist | ao3

There are moments where it’s only those memories, only those flashbacks clouding your mind and filling up the space for any other thoughts in your head. It eats everything else and doesn’t leave room to breathe, it engulfs everything on its way.

It is impressive how just a few minutes can determine the rest of your life, it is impressive how fast it can eat up everything else that matters.

It can play in your head over and over again when it wants to, like somebody’s favorite holo movie, rewatched when you should be asleep after a long and tiring day, and sometimes you get flashes of it during the day, even if you’re busy and should not be thinking about something other than what you’re currently doing, as if the images were screaming at you that hey, they existed.

You knew all too well that they existed, and for some obscure reason, you didn’t want to forget them. 

You should want them to fade away, to disappear completely, to vanish into oblivion until nothing is left of that day, but something inside of you sticks there, holds onto those few minutes and doesn’t want to let go. 

You don’t want the images to shatter into pieces, you don’t want it to be pooling at your feet like something you know you’re never going to be able to put back together. You don’t want to let go of it, you don’t want to let go of your last memory of her.

These moments aren’t present really often, at least not as much as before, but when they are they’re omnipresent and always remind you of how afraid you are at even just the thought of losing someone again.

Right now is one of those moments, the images play in the back of your mind again, it has become a regular occurrence for them to manifest themselves at the least convenient moments. Maybe Jess was right, maybe you should go see a professional so they could help you manage the manifestation of those memories.

The only thing faintly keeping you connected to reality is Poe’s voice mixing with the scene inside your head as you watch him speak, and even though it’s muffled and his words are barely distinguishable, it’s your only anchor, and you know that if you focus hard enough, it will bring you right back where you are, in the briefing room where he’s explaining everything concerning how the previous mission went and how things could have gone easier for everyone, tactically speaking. 

You do and it works, and you’re back just in time to catch Poe’s gaze sticking to yours, a small wink directed your way drawing a wide and foolish smile from you before he looks away, leaving a heat creeping up your cheeks. 

You’re barely able to focus for the rest of the meeting because of that simple thing, making it so you haven’t listened to any of it at all. 

He dismisses everyone, chatter filling the room before it emigrates out of it, and you wait for him to be done talking with someone and he joins you.

“Hey” he smiles, walking out the room beside you, his arm wrapping around you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks as he tilts his head to take a look at your face.

You hum positively, or you hope it sounds positive, and you look up at him with a small smile to prove your point. “Just tired” you shrug.

His lips pinch in a compassionate smile, and his hand shifts from your shoulder to bury into your hair. 

"Wanna come over tonight?" he asks cocking an eyebrow. "Just you, me, a bottle and my quarters"

"Is it really that obvious that I'm not feeling well?" you ask stopping in your steps with a small sigh, looking up at him.

He snorts, shrugging. "Obvious I don’t know, but I know you better than yourself" he chuckles, his hand shifting to your arm so he can squeeze you against himself. "So is that a yes?"

"It sure is" you smile, and he mirrors it before leaving a kiss at the top of your head.

—

Your eyes are watery from the alcohol, and you can feel the dizziness starting to manifest itself as you can see that your vision is slowly starting to delay like a screen's bad frame rate.  

"So" Poe starts, taking the bottle from your hands. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks finally coming to the subject you've been thoroughly avoiding before, taking care of telling him about your day. 

He brings the bottle to his mouth, frowning at the small shrug you offer him in response. He swallows the liquid as he raises his chin at you, handing you back the bottle. “It’s fine if you don’t, but you know that I’m always here if you need someone to lis–”

“It’s her death. The memories of it”

“Oh” his eyes soften, and he shifts closer to you, still sitting crossed legged on his bed.

“They’re less and less frequent, but when they resurface it’s all there is” you pinch your lips, a single nod showing that you’re accepting your fate despite how cruel it is. "And it's still so vivid, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone loses people they love in this war, and it's almost been two years and yet I can't move on" you chuckle before drinking from the bottle, wincing at the strong taste of the drink. “I feel ridiculous”

"No one does" he nods, raising his eyebrows in a reassuring way. "No one moves on" he declares, taking the bottle from you when you hand it over. "You learn to live with it, but you never really move on." He watches as you chew on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “And this is not ridiculous at all.” he tilts his head to emphasize, putting the bottle down on his nightstand.

His hand reaches for yours, and you let him hold it. It feels warm, and his touch feels comforting, and you can feel your heart beat faster when he starts running his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. “My mom died when I was eight, I’m a grown man and I haven’t moved on and I never will. I just had to learn to live with it.” You look up at him with compassion, but you also feel worried at the thought that it’s probably going to be a long, long way before you can recover from this experience and everything else it involves.

“But the fact that you lived and saw it makes it even harder, and you shouldn’t blame yourself for feeling stuck.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose maybe a bit too hard, as if you were trying to squeeze the images out of you. 

"I watched her die in front of me, she was right before my eyes and I had to leave her there" the words leave your mouth in a hurried and panicked, trembling plea, throat burning with the tight knot that only seems to get bigger inside as your words remind you of the moment in question, just as if you were there again, anxiety starting to loom menacingly over you again.

A soft exhale leaves Poe’s mouth as his expression turns into one of helplessness, and he gently pulls your body to his so you both lay down on the bed as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. 

"I know baby, I know" he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to your hairline, trying to ease your trembling and labored breaths.

You’re not crying, you can’t, you feel so full yet so empty.

—

The ringing, high pitched sound in your ears doesn’t help your current state of tiredness and the growing migraine slowly but surely beginning to anchor into your head, and you can soon feel a throbbing pain hammering into your skull.

It’s fairly late and everyone on base is back to their quarters and for the most fast asleep, save for the ones like you still focused on work. You should get some sleep, you need it, you crave it, but you refuse to leave the empty room before you're done filling your report, wrapping up the paperwork session you've been at for two hours now.

You almost drop your datapad at the sudden feeling of hands over your shoulders, a shuddery gasp slipping from your mouth. It wakes you up a little, your current fatigue making the effect of surprise even more intense, your heart thrumming into your ribcage and reverberating inside your whole body.

The momentary panic fades away when Poe walks around to the desk in front of yours, revealing that it's only him as your eyes follow him as you're trying to catch your breath, a relieved smile growing upon your face. You haven’t seen him since yesterday, both of you drowning under a crushing pile of work. You feel awful when you remember the state you were in, but you also remember that it’s Poe so he doesn’t mind and above all, he’s not one to judge.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you" his lips quirk in a soft smile as both of his hands grasp onto the back of the chair in front of you.

"S'okay, I just didn't expect any visit this late. Why aren't you sleeping?" you ask as you put the datapad down on the desk, looking up at him as you sink back into your chair, crossing your arms. 

“Why aren’t you” he asks as he cocks an eyebrow, almost as if accusing you of the same crime.

You sigh as you raise your eyebrows, taking a hold of the tablet you put down not too long ago. “Well Leia will kick my ass if I don’t fill out all of this, and she kinda scares me when she gets mad, so I’m stuck here until I’m done with paperwork”

“I don’t blame you for that” he snorts. "Need some company?" he asks as he pulls the chair from under the desk.

"I'm almost done but sure" you declare, pointing your hand towards his chair to offer him to stay with you.

He sits down, a slight clinking sound resonating through the empty room when he puts his feet up on the desk. 

You dive back into work, and he would have so many things to tell you about his day but he knows that you're desperate to finish what you're doing so he instead just looks at you, drinking in any movement of yours, even the littlest, admiring the way you look when you're focused, smiling at the way you bite down onto your lip in concentration all while he absent-mindedly fiddles with the ring attached to the chain around his neck.

It doesn’t take too long for you to finish your work and for Poe to escort you back to your quarters, finally getting to tell you about his day while on the way. 

You’re disappointed when you see you’re already there, and if you weren’t so tired you would have invited him inside so you could keep chatting. 

“You still haven’t answered my question” you say as you stop in front of your door, turning on your feet so you could face him, stopping him in the middle of his story about BB-8’s checkup.

“What question?” he frowns, a confused expression taking over his face, lowkey nervous that he forgot about something important.

“Why you’re not asleep.”

“Oh. I was revising details for tomorrow’s last minute mission" he nods as he crosses his arms, leaning his side against the wall.

“Last minute mission?” you repeat, your eyebrows slightly rising in curiosity.

He nods as he pinches his lips. “I’m leaving for a few days. Our contact found something interesting about the First Order, and I have to see this with my own eyes” 

“Be careful” you nod once, the inner corner of your eyebrows angling up in worry, and he can see in your eyes that you’re pleading him. He’s not the most cautious recruit on base, far from that, but he knows what’s good for his cause, even if he sometimes has to pay the price, but you also happen to be more important than his constant desire for recklessness. 

“I will, promised. Goodnight sweetheart.” he smiles softly as he stands in front of you.

“Goodnight Poe.” He turns to his feet, ready to leave, but you grab onto his wrist before he can. He turns to you, eyebrows raised, awaiting anything from you. “Thank you for yesterday. I really needed someone to talk to.” you nod, with a tired but genuine smile.

He smiles back at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling softly.

He leaves a quick kiss at your cheek before leaving, and you wait for him to be out of sight to finally go inside your quarters, and you can’t tell if the sigh leaving your mouth is one of longing or relief.

—

You’re sprinting through the base hallways, and even though it’s really not an uncommon thing to do there, you feel stupid for being in such a rush hoping that he isn’t gone yet. 

Once you arrive in the hangar, catching your breath, it is flooded with orange jumpsuits, making it hard to recognize anyone if they’re not directly facing you, but you just happen to spot the little droid that indicates that Poe’s not far away.

Poe’s eyes light up when you approach and he realizes you’re here to say goodbye, and you shake your head as you walk up to him, almost sprinting once you’re close.

“You do anything risky, I’ll kill you” you threaten as you throw yourself into his arms, the end of your sentence muffled against him.

“Okay. Where's my goodbye kiss?” he asks as he lets his hand rest at the back of your head, and he smirks when he hears your muffled chuckle.

“if you come back without a single scratch,” you start, pulling away from the embrace, looking back at him. “You’ll have a welcome home kiss.” 

His right eyebrow rises in interest, and a sly smirk grows over his face. 

“Now that’s an interesting deal.”

You point a finger to his chest, the tip pressing against it, your head slightly tilting to the side, looking right into his eyes.

“Not.” you push your finger deeper. “A.” deeper again, and—

“–Scratch, yes.” he completes your sentence, taking a hold of your hand, closing it into a fist and pressing it against his chest.

“That’s right. I’ll check” you tease, your other pointer finger pressuring him.

He snorts, “I’d love to show you every single part of my–” his voice quietens as he suddenly looks down at his feet, at the circular droid nudging him. “Yeah buddy” he looks back up at you. “I should get going”

“Alright. Goodbye handsome, be careful” you smile, and he bites down on his lip as he lets go of your hand before starting to walk backwards. 

“You gave me a reason to be, I will be” he shouts from a distance, pointing back at you as he walks away, towards his ship. 

—

The few days he had announced to be the time where he would be gone transformed into a whole week, and though you were busy every night either with work or with friends, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at random moments of the evening. 

Thankfully feedback from coms said that everyone was okay and that the mission was going exactly as planned, so your state of worry was greatly diminished.

You still couldn’t stop thinking about him and you hated yourself for being so attached to Poe Dameron, but at the same time how could you not when he acted the way he did around you.

You were walking around base with friends when you heard word from a passing group of people that Poe’s squadron had gotten back from their mission, and even though it was getting late and you could wait see him the next day or whenever you would run into him next, the curiosity and apprehension to find out whether he had gotten injured or not took over you.

You apologized to your friends for having to leave them, and hurriedly made your way through the base to join the hangar.

Once you arrive there the scene in front of you is pretty much the same as when you joined Poe before he left; a sea of orange figures, ships on the ground, metallic sounds and indistinct chatter filling the room. 

Poe sees you before you see him and rushes towards you, a sly smirk over his face as he sprints across the hangar, and the moment you finally see him is the exact same moment you want to warn him about the ship wing that’s about to– 

It hits his head with a loud thud.

A yelp that quickly transforms into a groan escapes his mouth, both of his hands covering and pushing against the area of impact as he momentarily curls up on himself in place because of the sudden pain. 

Your mouth is gaping in shock before you sprint to join him.

“Fuck are you okay?” you ask hastily, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth as your hand rests at his back while his eyes are shut tight, his hand grabbing onto your arm.

“Yeah I’m okay, I’m okay” he nods, his other hand still clinging onto his forehead. He sighs a curse word under his breath, shaking his head as he frowns before he snorts.

“I was uninjured before this.” he chuckles as he looks at you, a skeptic smile over his face. “Not a scratch”

“Mh? Well that’s too bad.” you tease, putting your hand over his shoulder. “Come on, medbay.”

“No no that’s fine I’m o–” 

“Nuh uh I don’t wanna hear it, we’re going to medbay” you insist, pulling onto his arm, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head towards the direction of interest.

Poe reluctantly goes to medbay with you, the medics check him up rather quickly, and everything turns out to be okay; you only have to stay there sitting face to face to hold a cold pad to his forehead to prevent a bump from appearing.

“So, how’d the mission go?”

“Great. Couldn’t have been better. Got into some ambushes but we crushed them” he smiles. “And not a scratch, nothing” he nods proudly.

“See, you can make efforts when you’re interested in the promised outcome” you chuckle, shifting in place so you could get a better position to hold the pad over his forehead. 

He winces, “S’cold as fuck”

“That’s the point” you huff out a laugh, and he smacks your thigh playfully in response.

“So” he starts, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. “Can I get my price?” he asks, a sly smirk growing over his face.

“...I don’t know” you hum, a fake skeptic expression over your face. It’s hard to refrain from smiling when you see his semi-pouty face, “You technically didn’t respect the conditions.”

“What? It shouldn’t count!” he starts bargaining like a child that has been wrongly accused for something their sibling did, and you huff out a small laugh seeing how he reacts to you simply teasing him.

“I mean, you got hurt” you shrug.

“The mission was over”

“I told you to come back uninjured, mission or not, or else what's the point”

“Fair enough, but you didn’t specify beforehand”

“Well, now you know” you say, a small exhale leaving your mouth when you get up from your seat, and Poe doesn’t waste any second to follow you, tossing the cold pad onto the nearest surface.

“Alright, okay, but now I want a second chance at this so it’s fair game” he bargains, following you closely when you exit the medbay.

"Alright, alright" you agree as you turn back to him. "Come on now, you need to rest" you turn to your feet again, towards the hallway extending before you.

He remains standing in place when you start walking again, just looking at you and pondering. It takes him a few seconds before he catches up and joins you again, walking by your side.

The both of you are silent for most of the walk to Poe's quarters; it's pretty uncommon for Poe to remain quiet for more than thirty seconds, and it has you thinking.

"You really want your kiss, huh?" you ask rhetorically, stopping in your steps and turning to him once you're in front of his door.

He pauses, and takes a look at you before answering. "Of course I do" he chuckles, and you nod as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

Poe barely has time to process you getting substantially closer to him before you grab the collar of his flight suit and put your lips over his, gently pushing him against the wall. 

The quarter of second it takes for him to fully be aware of what's happening leaves him sighing against your mouth, and once he's sure that it’s all real, his hand cradles the back of your head, pulling you even closer. 

His other hand rests at your hip, your own hands leaving his collar and resting at the back of his neck, and low hum vibrating against your mouth when your fingers bury into his short curls there.

You pull away just for a second before he yanks you towards him, kissing you back with even more vigor.

His lips are warm and pressed tight against yours, the heat of his body feeling omnipresent even though you're the one caging him.

You smile at the sight of the starstruck expression left over his face when you pull away, and your heart sinks at the way his warm eyes look at you. 

“I was messing with you, I always keep my promises” you tease with a grin as you start to back away, your hands behind your back, giving him space again.

“Admit it, you didn’t want to be kind to me, you just wanted to do it” he smirks, a teasing tone in his voice before he bites down onto his bottom lip. “You wanted to kiss me”

You smirk back at him, shrugging before turning onto your feet and leaving for good, retracing your steps.

Poe stares at you leaving until you're out of sight, and he can't help but smile to himself when he enters the code to his quarters, still not fully believing what just happened.

You, you should feel overjoyed, but you can’t help but acknowledge that bittersweet feeling starting to get to you as you’re walking back to your quarters and being faced with reality again, your mind starting to overfill with too many thoughts; you’re getting too attached. 

—

You toss and turn in your bed, and all you’re able to do instead of sleeping is hating yourself for kissing Poe, for certainly making him feel like this meant that you were ready to give him what he had been wanting from you for so long.

You do have feelings for him, and that’s where the problem is; you can not love anyone, and certainly not someone as reckless and impulsive as him, not someone you could lose technically so easily. 

You can’t go through this again, you know you wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of his loss.

Maybe it’s selfish, maybe you’re making the biggest mistake of your life – no; you’re sure of that – but you’re also sure that you wouldn't be able to handle enduring this again; the simple thought crushes you.

You toss and turn in your bed, and while Poe is certainly delighted of what happened, you hate that you’re going to have to distance yourself from him because you fucked everything up.

—

It has been a week since you and Poe had kissed, and it seemed like you were thoroughly trying to avoid him ever since, hurrying out of the room after every briefing, taking advantage of the crowd and of the people wanting to talk details with the commander. 

You happened to never eat at the same time as him anymore, and you were nowhere to be found when he looked for you in places he knew you would usually be.

Poe was left confused, and even though he had a lot of work and technically other things to think about, the fact that he couldn’t catch you to talk even just for five minutes was bothering him and leaving him wondering if he had done something wrong, especially with what happened last time.

He had thought this kiss would change things between you, would lead you somewhere and that he would finally get what he had wanted for ages; you.

He knew it was no coincidence that you wouldn't stop ignoring his presence, that you wouldn't maintain eye contact through the briefing room for more than two seconds; that you wouldn’t run into him anymore; he knew he had been just a fool, too stupid to think that this could lead him somewhere, lead the both of you somewhere, that you would feel the same way he felt for you.

—

You took it as a sign that your friends had understood something was wrong when they practically dragged you to go get some drinks, and while you weren’t particularly in the mood to do that, you had to admit that you needed some distraction.

You needed to be busy in order to avoid thinking too much, to avoid getting too deep into your own head, because you knew that if you did you would break.

And the distraction technique actually works; you’re having a good time, chatting and laughing, forgetting about everything else going on besides that, and it feels really good, the illusion feels good.

There comes a time when you start to feel the drinks you’ve downed, the slight drunkenness starting to manifest itself as well as your need to pee.

You're still in a pretty good shape, drinkingly speaking; you're not fully drunk yet, just tipsy – the feeling is still pleasant, and you just have to stop for a second to maintain balance on your feet when you get up from your seat to join the cantina's bathroom.

The room is empty when you go and lock yourself into a stall, and the muffled music gets clearer when a group of people enter the room seconds later, their loud and high pitched laughs almost fully covering the sound of the loud music before it gets muffled again.

“So” one of the girls starts as she recovers from her laugh, “How’d last night end?” she asks, and the question elicits curious gasps from the other girls of the group.

“Yeah, we didn’t see you after you left the room with Commander Dameron” another girl teases, putting emphasis on the rank and last name, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.

Well. Try to forget about something and it’s shoved into your face right back away.

This catches your interest nonetheless, and you make sure to wait a little before you wipe yourself, not wanting to miss a beat of the conversation.

"Well," another girl starts, the girl who you assume is the girl who left the room with Commander Dameron. 

"We were both drunk and it was sloppy but damn is he good at it” she declares proudly, a fit of giggles filling the room.

Oh.

She's talking about something else, right? 

This can't possibly be, right?

Right?

"No way you slept with a commander, Jana. This is like a special success, something to check off a list" one of them chuckles.

"Sure did." Jana replies, and this is cliché and a bit not-feminist but you can just imagine her putting another layer of gloss on her lips.

Fuck.

It's with a half lie about not feeling well that you leave your friends and go home to your quarters, trying to repress the tight knot in your throat when you don’t even bother to change into your sleeping clothes and curl up into your bed.

—

The next briefings after that are awkward and feel delicate, and even though they already were before, you now can not look at Poe without internally wanting to scream and break something.

You hurry out the room faster than before if it’s even possible, and you need to be constantly distracted and busy with something in order not to think about him and all of your current situation with him.

You make your way out of the seemingly way-too-busy room once more, apologizing as you slalom through the crowd of people, an exhale of relief escaping once you get some relatively fresh air in the hallway.

“Hey” your heart jumps when you recognize Poe’s voice as he grabs your arm, and you sigh softly when you’re forced to turn to him. He must have disregarded everyone’s questions to exit the briefing room that quickly. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why do you barely even look at me?” he asks, and his voice slightly cracks at the middle of his sentence. He’s not fully scolding you, he genuinely wants answers.

A soft exhale leaves your mouth, and you can feel and hear your heart starting to beat fast in your ears.

“Did you sleep with Jana?”

The question is dropped like a bomb, and you know it’s going to have the effect of a bomb no matter what happens – it’s going to destroy everything, but at this point there isn’t really anything left to lose, nothing left to save either, it’s all doomed.

You already know the answer, you already know he’s going to respond positively because he’s an honest man and definitely not a liar; it’s something you have always appreciated in him.

“I–” he is speechless, and his mouth is gaping, trying to come up with anything to say though he knows damn well what he has to say if he wants to be honest with you, even if it’s going to ruin everything, until– “Yes.”

You expected it, and yet it still hurts. 

You had secretly hoped that the girl in the cantina bathroom had made that lie up to impress her friends, and you deep down knew she hadn’t, but you somehow buried yourself deep into denial, thinking that hoping otherwise would somehow manifest the truth to be different.

“I can’t wait for you forever. I don’t want to.” 

Immediately and like a reflex your eyes close, your lips pinch and you nod, trying to ignore the sick feeling bubbling inside your chest though it’s impossible. 

It hurts, everything hurts, nothing will ever be the same with him and it’s entirely your fault, you brought it upon yourself.

He’s not yours after all, and you made sure of that, so you shouldn’t be upset, you shouldn’t feel your heart sink. It’s not legitimate.

“You know that’s not what I meant” he starts again, the inner corner of his eyebrows angling up in compassion when he sees your reaction. “I could wait for you forever.” he nods, a bittersweet smile over his face. “But you’re making me feel like a fool. I don’t want to feel like a fool forever” he nods one last time as his lips pinch to repress something, and you can see his eyes glistening a bit, and your heart aches at the sight.

You bite down on your lip trying to contain your frustration, or your growing state of misery; you’re not sure, and all you’re able to reply is just–

“Okay.”

It’s bland, cold and dry, but it’s truly all that can come out.

You don’t have the heart to bargain and beg for your cause, and it would feel unfair and dishonest for him anyways.

“I’m sorry” Poe immediately says, and you feel bad that he is the one to be sorry, that he feels like he is the bad guy in that whole story when all of this is entirely your fault.

“No, no, I am. I get it” you try to reassure him, forcing a small smile out of you, still trying to make it seem like you’re doing fine, though you know there’s no use trying to when he knows you so well. 

You can’t stay here any longer or you will break, and you don’t have anything left to say anyways, not when you know it probably has to end that way.

You leave as fast as you left the briefing room earlier, and Poe feels sick when he watches you go, feels the need to puke when his head somehow fills with every memory you’ve ever made with him.

You’re glad your back is facing him when you have to frantically wipe away the single tear rolling down your cheek.

—

It feels strange not having Poe in your life anymore, at least not properly; and it's probably worse that way, the fact that he's still around and that you're still often being confronted to each other, forced to pretend not to care about each other.

It hurts that he's now back to being "just" a commander to you, a colleague, that you're both back to being basically strangers, that the eye contacts don't linger anymore and just leave a bitter feeling lodged inside your chest when they used to leave butterflies in your stomach.

Your heart aches every time you catch a glimpse of him, and it’s hard trying to stay focused when you work around him, go on missions with him. 

You feel terrible for what you’ve done to him, you feel sick that he feels like he's been played with when all you wanted to do was protect yourself, you feel bad that he has to be collateral damage. 

You truly hope he doesn’t hate you, and you think that this might be your biggest fear.

That the only man that has ever truly believed in you, that the man that you love could hate you, even if he has all the reasons in the world to and you wouldn’t blame him if he did. 

Now is not the time to think about it, because you've been assigned and sent on a mission with him, and you're kinda thankful it's not the kind of mission that only requires two people and you just happen to be paired with him – you're thankful people are with you for this one.

It should be an easy mission, you just have to get something back.

A smuggler had stolen something that was supposed to get sent to the Resistance, but the guy happened to be tougher and more skilled than expected, and the logical solution to get back up on this was to get the Resistance itself.

You’re making your way through a quiet alley bathed in darkness, following the target from a distance, observing each of his movements to calculate how you could get an opening so you could get to him and steal – no, get back what’s yours.

Your group has split up, everyone trying to join the guy from different points and accesses across the area. 

If all goes well you can surround him in case you don’t have the opportunity to attack before, and technically he shouldn’t be able to get away, at least not until you have taken back what he has stolen.

You're doing pretty good so far, the guy hasn’t noticed he is being followed, so you have been able to gradually get closer and you're so close to being able to attack and if you could just shoot him in the leg and get back what's yours–

You're suddenly and abruptly yanked out from the main alley, and even before you can react at what’s happening and scream in surprise and fear, a hand pushes over and blocks your mouth, the other hand wrapping tight around your waist, your back pressed flush against your assailant's chest as their own back rests against the wall of the small, secluded alley you’ve been pulled in.

Your eyes look around in fear, your head unable to move, blocked by the strong hand covering your mouth; you want to scream, trying to wriggle out of whoever's grasp you're trapped in, panic starting to creep up your chest, until–

"Calm down, don't panic, it's only me." the soft and gentle whisper of Poe's voice in your ear makes you relax in his grasp, waves of relief washing over you. "He knows that we're following him, he was waiting for you to get closer to trap you" he explains, and you start to loosen up when his hand leaves your mouth and he lets go of you. “Sorry I scared you”

“Thank you” you nod as you face him, your hands resting over your knees as you catch your breath from the sudden rush of fear and adrenaline.

Your eyes widen and you look back at Poe when you hear a fight starting not so far away from where you are, shouts and sounds of blasters firing.

“I’ll go” he declares, hastily taking off his jacket. “Stay there and keep this for me, will you? You were shivering while I was holding you” he smirks teasingly, throwing you his leather jacket.

You chuckle as you catch and look down at the piece of cloth, and he waits for you to put it on to shoot you a smile before leaving, not even giving you time to beg him to be careful and not do anything stupid.

At least you’re now certain that he most definitely does not hate you.

—

Poe is sitting in the grass on a hill not so far away from base, looking up at the starry sky, just enjoying the fresh air of D'Qar. It feels nice after the particularly busy and tiring day he just had, his muscles still sore and tense from the mission, especially the muscles joining his neck and shoulders. 

“Hey” the sudden sound of your voice tears him out of his thoughts, and he even thinks he hallucinated it before he turns to you.

“Hey” he pinches a smile as he looks up at you.

“I wanted to give you your jacket back” you say as you look down at the jacket you’re currently wearing, and you must admit that you’re a bit reluctant at the idea of having to give it back – it smells just like him, a mix of his natural comforting scent and his aftershave, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever been to him in your life.

“Oh. No need to, you can keep it, you look good in it” he smiles wide, and you scoff softly.

"Alright. Can I?” you ask, referring to sitting down next to him.

“Hm? Sure” he nods, patting on the grass. You sit down next to him and watch him as he looks in front of him, admiring the view extending before him. The sky is pretty, the stars are especially bright tonight.

"Thank you again for earlier. And… I'm sorry for even earlier" you say, and his gaze drops down to his lap. "I'm sorry I was being an asshole and I made you feel like an idiot just because I don't know how to deal with my emotions." He looks back up in front of him, and you're scared when he doesn’t say anything and just stares ahead, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Can you forgive me?"

His face turns to you, and he nods, a pinched, awkward smile over his face. "Of course. Of course I can"

You can't help a relieved smile from forming over your face, and you look at the stars for a moment before looking back at him. He looks almost heavenly, bathed in the stars' light.

“You know I love you, right? Poe, please tell me you do.” you ask, almost beg, still scared that he could believe the opposite. 

"I do. I know it" he nods softly, looking at you. He pauses before continuing, as if he was thinking of the right words to say. "But I don't want you to feel forced to be with me if you're not ready yet" he continues, and his hand rests over your thigh as he looks at you sternly, wanting to show you that he means it.

Your heart sinks at how considerate he is, even after how you've been treating him, but you're not even surprised; he's the kindest, most gentle man you've ever met, you have always known this.

"I can wait for you, and I will, I'm not going anywhere." he looks down at your thigh when your hand covers his, and he looks back up at you. "I mean it."

It shouldn't have the effect it has, because you've never wanted him as much as you do now, but you have been wanting him for long anyways so it doesn't really change anything. 

“I’m terrified of losing you.” you mutter under your breath, saying this as if you were justifying yourself though you know you don’t have to.

“And why would you lose me?” he asks, almost sure it's a rhetorical question, his hand moving so it could grab yours. His fingers intertwine with yours and the gesture makes a chill run down your spine, you're sure it's not the fresh breeze of the night.

“You’re the most impulsive and reckless person I’ve ever met, Poe. That might simultaneously be your biggest blessing and flaw” you smile softly.

He scoffs. “But I’m also the best pilot in the Resistance, so…” he tries to reassure you with a fake sly smirk, for once, holding tighter onto your hand. “Trust me, will you? I know it’s hard for you, I know what you’ve gone through and I know what you're scared of but I promise you that we’ll be okay.” he nods, and you happen to believe him, he is able to do that.

"You don't have to wait for me, then" you declare, your head resting over his shoulder. He smiles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaving a kiss at the top of your head before his rests over yours.

You will love him anyways, you will be terrified anyways, and if you have to live with the fear that everything could stop suddenly, you would rather do it by his side.

—

if this flops and if I get no feedback on this I will scream, cry, break something and consider retiring from writing so if you've read all of this please give me feedback or a comment or a reblog I'm literally begging you on my knees........

better safe than sorry masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

star wars masterlist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

[sweetkpopmusings]

long for you (interlude) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: here's the interlude! only one more part of the fic left after this </3 this one is angsty, but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless >.< currently at work so i might make edits to it later lol if you want to be added to the tag list, you can reply to this post or send me an ask! pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 3.7k | warnings: mentions of food/eating, lots of crying | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

interlude: love untold

“y/n!”

a familiar voice calls your name. you look around the crowd, searching for anyone you recognize, not quite sure what you’re trying to find. when you see his face, you understand why the way he called your name sounded so much like home.

chan hurries over the second you wave to him, and you instinctively smile at his lopsided curls bouncing with each step he takes. you melt into his bear hug, warmed by the contact and the closeness of his bright smile. it’s only once you realize that he has run into you here that you feel a tiny wave of shock roll over you.

“wait, chan,” you tilt your head, “how are you…why are you here?”

he laughs, “i’m just as surprised to see you, y/n. i’m here interviewing for a new job.”

“oh wow! that’s great! how did it go?”

“i have the interview tomorrow, actually. i figured i’d get in a day early to feel out the area and make sure i like it.”

“and? what’s your review so far?”

chan’s excited grin is replaced by a soft smile, “seeing you makes it perfect.”

with a simple sentence, chan has you blushing the way you did as a teenager. it didn’t take much to fall into the old rhythm with him: easy conversation, light touches, inside jokes suddenly at the front of your mind despite not having been uttered in years. you two could have lost yourselves in each other’s presence anywhere, but chan suggests you migrate into a coffee shop to continue the conversation. as your agenda for the rest of the day is empty, you lead chan to a nearby coffee shop, relaxing into your seat with your favorite drink and the comfort of an old companion.

“so, tell me everything that’s been going on with you!”

you laugh, “chan. we haven’t seen each other in what, two, three years now? i hardly think telling you everything is possible.”

“i thought you said you had the rest of the night free?”

you roll your eyes, and chan giggles at his own joke. quietly, you prioritize what information to share, careful not to spiral and think about how much has changed since your last conversation with chan.

“i guess i can start with the fact that i got a book deal.”

chan just about drops his drink, “no way, y/n! that’s amazing! wow! i knew you’d do it one day. i know it has been your dream for ages. i’m so proud of you!”

“thank you, chan,” you pause to ensure he knows the depth of your gratitude, “it is a ghostwriting contract, so my name won’t be on it, but it feels surreal that someone’s paying me to write a book.”

“do you know when it’ll come out? i need to be first in line to buy it.”

“i honestly have no idea, but i’m turning in the manuscript tomorrow. the first draft of it, anyway.”

“wooooow,” chan leans back in his chair, “i’m so impressed. you’re like a big-time author now.”

“okay, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you scoff, still complimented by his pride in you, “but what about you? what brings you here for a new job?”

“eh, nothing as exciting as your news. i just want something new. i haven’t been feeling inspired with the work i do now, and i need a change of scenery. i moved back home after we…you know. it was great to go back to my roots. it’s time for me to move forward, turn a new page, start a life where no one knows me. at least that was the plan until i ran into you.”

you both laugh, and you reply, “if your interview tomorrow goes well, i can act like i don’t know you, so things can go according to plan.”

chan laughs boyishly, the way you always remembered it, “i appreciate your support, but i’d hate nothing more than for you to forget about me.”

you nod. you’d often caught yourself wondering whether chan still thought about you, whether he remembered any details of you and your life together. the space between you two was never supposed to grow this vast, but you figure that’s just how these things go sometimes. you feel a pang in your chest, sitting across from him, aware of how much he still means to you, despite it all.

“not to draw attention to the elephant in the room,” chan starts, feigning confidence over the redness in his ears, “are you seeing anyone?”

“please,” you laugh dryly, “you know i’m not.”

chan hums, observing you for a few extra seconds, “something’s going on in your love life.”

“chan!” you gape at him with disbelief, “based on what evidence?”

he leans closer to you, elbows on the table and eyes focused, “come on. i know you better than most people, especially when it comes to this stuff. who is it?”

you frown, hoping you can get him to believe that nothing is happening. predictably, even after years of separation, chan waits patiently. silent, stubborn, supportive.

“fine,” you sigh, spinning your cup a few times to delay your admission, “i was involved–well, not really involved, per se. there was…someone. we had something. at least, i thought we did, and i thought they thought so too. then, they ended things without warning. i can’t say they were in the wrong because being able to end things was a part of our…agreement…but it still hurt. i felt–feel–blindsided and delusional and stupid for getting my hopes up. i don’t think there’s anything to do now except move on, which sucks because it felt special. but hey,” you laugh sordidly, “i’ve been wrong about that before.”

chan smiles, some sadness peeking through, “we both have been wrong about that before.”

you nod, coming up empty on what to say next. chan watches you to ensure you’ve shared everything you wanted to before he speaks again.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i don’t know what they were thinking, and i won’t ask you to dredge up every detail, but i don’t need to know the whole situation to know that they made a mistake. you are so special. loving and being loved by you is the greatest gift i’ve ever known. you deserve someone who recognizes that, and i’m sorry that they weren’t smart enough to.”

you clear your throat, overwhelmed by chan’s words, “thanks, chan.”

“of course,” he smiles, “i’m what you could call an expert on this subject.”

you both laugh again, and chan continues, “all i wanted to do was give you the best. i still want to. i always thought if we saw each other again…” chan pauses to ensure he’s caught your gaze, “i would love to be the person that gives you what you deserve, if you’d let me.”

oh. 

“chan…”

“you don’t have to answer right now. besides, i wouldn’t ask for your time if we still lived as far apart as we do now. i just mean that, one way or another, i’d love to be back in your life. i still love you, and i always will, regardless of what that love looks like.”

a smile spreads across your face. chan, as you always remembered, never fails to surround you with warmth. you tell him so as you both say your goodbyes. you promise to call, much to chan’s excitement. he promises to tell you how the interview goes, and you can’t help but hope that he gets the job in the city, this city, your city. 

later, while you muscle through the final edits of your first manuscript, jisung stops by to confirm that you’re eating and drinking enough. against your best efforts, you mention chan right away.

“chan’s here?” jisung’s eyes are wide, though you can’t tell with which emotion.

you nod, “yeah, he’s interviewing for a job tomorrow.”

“oh wow, good for him!” jisung pauses his celebration for chan to ask the inevitable, “how did it feel to see him after…everything?”

you sigh, wondering how far down memory lane you were willing to travel, “it felt…good. we were comfortable right away, and, though it was clear time had passed, we were as connected as we had always been. he actually…i think, if he moves here, he wants to give us another shot.”

“whoa,” jisung looks arguably more shocked than you were when chan made his abrupt confession.

“yeah. i was surprised too. but i don’t know…i felt surprised in a good way, i think. obviously the whole hyunjin situation is fresh, and i’d be lying if i said i was over it. yet running into chan randomly for him to admit that he still wants to be with me, in some capacity at least, maybe that’s happening for a reason. i’ve felt so cynical about love for a long time. what if chan is the happy ending i’ve been craving all along?”

“i’m glad that seeing him went so well,” jisung chuckles, “i know when you two were with each other, you constantly talked about building a future together. you were happy with chan, there’s no denying that. but…”

“i know, i know,” you cut him off, so he doesn’t have to be the one to bring up the uncomfortable reminder, “he was my first love, and my first heartbreak. i can’t forget that he ended things because i distanced myself from him. i was scared, jisung. even though, or perhaps because, we were so young, our relationship was so idyllic. everything seemed to line up perfectly, and yet there was a pit in my stomach because i always worried that something was missing. could it have been that i found what was missing by growing up?”

“you sound like me,” he teases, a bit impressed, “it genuinely could be that you needed time apart to figure yourselves out before you could make it work. you and chan were great together; anyone could see that. if giving that relationship another, more mature try, is the right move, then you have my full support. but y/n…is chan the one you want to be with?”

“i…” you glance over at the poem hanging on your fridge, briefly feeling the way hyunjin’s words had moved you that night not so far in the past, “i’ve been feeling cynical about love and relationships for a long time. seeing chan made me feel hopeful again.”

“was it really chan that changed your mind?”

you roll your eyes and scoff, “whatever hyunjin made me feel doesn’t count. we weren’t even together anyway.”

jisung sighs, “just because you weren’t technically together doesn’t mean you didn’t build a relationship. the way you felt about hyunjin is what changed your mind on love, if you ask me. and, as we’ve already established, i have earned my wisdom when it comes to love.” 

you both laugh, relieving the tension. jisung definitely knew what he was talking about, and you know that he wouldn’t say anything regarding your love life if it weren’t important.

“what do you think i should do?”

a sweet and sympathetic smile appears on jisung’s face, “you know i can’t answer that. what i can say is i hope you chase after what’s right for you now. the younger version of you deserved real love, and who you are now deserves real love. that love might look different, whether it comes from the same person or not. it’s probably the romantic in me, but i think you’ll know if you’ve found that love. i hope you trust your gut, and i’ll support you no matter who or what you choose.”

with that, you thank him and remind him that you have a novel to finish, which means you don’t quite have the time for an existential crisis about love tonight. he laughs, wishes you luck, and heads home. you sit at the table for a while, quietly thinking to yourself about the events of the day. you never thought you’d be in a position like this, but you guess that signing up to live out one fanfic trope makes you more susceptible to living out other ones too. with that in mind, after finishing your edits, you decide to add one last line to the ending.

after all that had happened to us, and in spite of whatever would come, the center of everything was this: i have longed for you since the moment i met you; therefore, i will always love you. 

before you can second guess yourself, you send it to your publisher and close your laptop. unable to resist the tears, you sit at your kitchen table, full of relief and sadness, and cry. regardless of what tomorrow brings, one love story has ended. in chasing toward your tomorrow, you have to live with saying goodbye. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“hyunjin!” jeongin looks up from his desk, face composed but eyes wide with surprise, “i wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

hyunjin approximates a smile to the best of their abilities, “i figured i should hand the final piece in directly.”

“as always, i appreciate the personal touch,” jeongin grins and points to the large canvas leaning against hyunjin’s body, “is that it?”

“yes,” they gaze down, peeking at the image, “i finally finished it.”

quiet, hyunjin places the painting on a work table in front of jeongin. jeongin examines it, thoroughly dedicated to appreciating every brushstroke. the compliments on his artistic choices are personal and detailed, but hyunjin barely registers them. they’re sure they will be able to hear the precise, sincere feedback a different night, maybe when the exhibition opens, so hyunjin only feels a twinge of regret at being spaced out yet again. jeongin must have been able to tell that hyunjin was only half there because he quickly transitions his praise into a goodbye. hyunjin gratefully accepts the exit plan.

“oh, and hyunjin?”

hyunjin pauses near the door, facing their friend with their full attention, “yeah?”

“take care of yourself, yeah?”

“of course.”

hyunjin makes it only a block before the tears start streaming. hearing those words from jeongin, the type of friend to refrain from casual sentimentality, breaks hyunjin’s thinly veiled detachment. the facade they barely maintained in the past few weeks lacked resilience. how could there be any solidity to him when hyunjin spent the recent past floating away?

they walk aimlessly for some amount of time, landing at a park bench. the afternoon sun would usually deter them from this spot, but the overcast sky makes the place feel less visible, less connected to the rest of the outside world. hyunjin hadn’t been outside for more than a few minutes at a time since the conversation at the restaurant, so they melt into the bench with hopes that vitamin d will cure them of their self-inflicted heartbreak. cure is perhaps too strong of a hope. hyunjin doesn’t believe anything could undo the hurt he caused, but he wants to believe that the suffering won’t last forever. 

in case the sunshine can’t clear all their problems away, hyunjin calls minho. they feel selfish and stupid and hate that they could be interrupting someone else’s good day, but he can’t think of anything useful on his own. all the time in the studio, all the distancing from friends, all the nights spent writing in their journals couldn’t remove the pit in their stomach, the rock in their chest. the guilt weighed so much more because your name was written all over it.

“hyunjin,” minho answers on the third ring, “how can i help you?”

they laugh through the tears, sniffling, “your customer service knows no bounds.”

“i expect a tip.”

hyunjin laughs again, grateful for a fleeting lightness in his chest before confronting everything that’s crashing down, “minho, i messed up.” 

minho sighs on the other side of the line, “do you want to talk about it?”

thankfully, minho doesn’t rush hyunjin to respond. hyunjin, overcome with just about every emotion they’ve felt in the past few weeks, feels another wave of tears emerge in the presence of his friend’s patience and understanding. they’re not sure what they’re looking for, but being able to admit their mistakes feels like the right place to start.

“i really cared about y/n. like…deeply. more than i’ve cared about someone in a long time, if ever. i miss them, and it’s my fault. it’s like a sick joke. this whole arrangement was built around us finding inspiration for our work, and now, because i got scared, i learned what yearning actually feels like. i feel it in my body, like the urge to reach out for something–someone–that isn’t there anymore. it’s so cliché, and i used to make fun of people for saying it when they went through a breakup, but i look for y/n in everything i see. they’re gone. the feeling of them beside me is like a phantom limb, but i am responsible for the amputation. i feel like i can’t even be sad about it because i’m the one who left. i can’t even say i don’t know what went wrong because i ruined it. i regret it. minho, i don’t know what to do.”

“hyunjin,” minho sighs, “you need to be kinder to yourself. yes, you made a mistake, but you don’t deserve to tear yourself apart for it.”

“don’t i though? what i have–had–with y/n was so special. they deserve so much more than what i gave them, what i was giving them and then immaturely ripped away. they were so kind to me, so honest. and i threw that all away without so much as an explanation.”

“okay,” minho lets out a breath with a hint of frustration, “i really think you’re taking this self-flagellation thing way too far, but i won’t waste time arguing with you if you don’t want to believe me–”

“where did you learn ‘self-flagellation’?”

“hyunjin, seriously?” minho deadpans.

hyunjin can perfectly picture the annoyed look on minho’s face, and he laughs, “sorry, you’re right. we were being serious and vulnerable. i shouldn’t have interrupted with a joke.”

“exactly, you shouldn’t have interrupted the vulnerability.”

“are you talking about you or y/n now?”

“a little bit of both, but mostly y/n. you got scared because you two were so open with each other. you felt seen in a way you hadn’t before. that’s rare. all of us would be or have been intimidated by something like that.”

“not everyone runs away though,” hyunjin frowns, kicking a rock by their foot, “i did the thing you’re not supposed to do when you find someone as…perfect as y/n.”

“do you want them back?”

hyunjin bites his lip, scared even now to be honest about their desire, “it’s not like they would give me a second chance. they’re smarter than that.”

“that’s not the question i asked,” minho replies, kind yet firm.

panicking, they reply, “you know, even though it was a fake relationship, we kissed once. it was my idea, sort of as a joke. we did it anyway, ‘for the plot,’” hyunjin chuckles, “there was this clarity, in the seconds after we kissed. i realized then and there that i was far more tied to y/n than i ever expected or could have hoped. i know it sounds dramatic, but it’s like, with them, my heart and soul were…now they’re…life isn’t…i just thought that things would have turned out a completely different way, and maybe i was romanticizing things–i probably was, i always do–but that doesn’t change the fact that…” 

hyunjin pauses their rambling to take a deep breath, knowing there are only a few words left to say, “i want to be with y/n.”

for a brief second, the weight of everything falls away into sweet certainty. hyunjin wants to be with you, plain and simple. their stomach twists at the fact that you weren’t together because they ran away, but his heart leaps in hope that maybe things could still change.

“do you feel better now that you’ve said it?”

hyunjin sighs, relief rather than regret, “yeah. i do.”

“good,” minho pauses, and hyunjin imagines he’s cracking his knuckles in preparation for the nitty gritty advice he’s about to drop, “i think it’s important to point out that, just because you were fake dating each other doesn’t mean that you two didn’t have a relationship at all. you shared a connection, and the bond you built together was real, even if you weren’t earnestly trying to be romantic partners.”

oh.

hyunjin stays silent, so minho continues, “like i said, running away from someone, something special, because you’re scared of how much they mean to you is a mistake we all have or will make. don’t keep beating yourself up for it. also, don’t keep being dumb by avoiding y/n. if you feel the way you say you feel, then you owe it to yourself and to them to be honest, even if it’s coming a little late. take a chance. you’re already hurt, and you’ve already hurt them. what else do you have to lose?”

“i can’t believe you called me dumb while giving me the most insightful advice i’ve ever heard.”

minho laughs, “life’s about balance, hyunjin.”

hyunjin rolls their eyes, “i guess you’re right. about both things.”

“mhm. i usually am.”

hyunjin scoffs, “okay, if you’re going to gloat about being wise, i’m going to hang up.”

“good!” minho sighs the way one does after a long day’s work, “it’ll give you time to figure out how you’re going to get your person back.”

“you’re so annoying,” hyunjin huffs, “thank you. i’ll tell you how it goes.”

minho hums in agreement, rushing out a don’t forget to stop being dumb! as hyunjin ends the call. hyunjin sets their phone down next to them on the bench and takes a deep breath. the late afternoon is already melting its way into the evening. as hyunjin stares at the setting sun in the distance, they think about the beloved painting above their desk. out there, somewhere in the same city, there’s a chance you are at your bedroom window, saying goodbye to another day with hyunjin on the outside, a part of the world not welcomed into your home. what they wouldn’t give to change that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tag list: @velvetmoonlght @tirena1 (<333 tysm)

[smileyerim]

episode one: champagne problems

summer of love: an interactive nct series

Welcome to Villa Rosa, the home for this summer’s hottest singles to come together to compete to find their true love. Through a series of compatibility competitions and tempting newcomers joining the mix, our couples will be put to the test to evaluate if they really belong together. Join us in the summer of love, where anything could happen. (reality show concept based off of perfect match)

chapter content:

(bold indicates a major pairing with the reader in this chapter)

the boys: mark lee, jung jaehyun, na jaemin, lee haechan, kim jungwoo, kim doyoung (the host)

the girls: model!reader, huh yunjin, karina, shin ryujin

genre: fluff, sorta angsty

word count: 9.9k

warnings: love triangle, adults drinking, dialogue about sex, dialogue about heartbreak, SHIT MOVES FAAAAST (comes with the territory tbh), visual and personality comparisons between all the boys (this is a major theme, so if it offends you please don’t read further)

net tags: @kflixnet @k-labels

for information on the full series, check out the series masterlist linked below the title!

“On my cue.” The producer dressed in black says next to you. You give him a nod and a smile before quickly readjusting your bikini top for the millionth time today.

Your nerves are starting to build in an exciting way, you swipe your sweaty palms on your sheer wrap that’s covering truly nothing on your body.

My reality television debut, you ponder the event as you stand silently. You can hear the roar of laughter and the telltale squeal of a girl that just got cheekily flirted with from down the hallway. You will join the bunch next.

“Go.” The producer says and you let out a final sigh before strutting with as much confidence and power that you can muster down the hallway. The only noise is your heels clicking the marble, the group outside clearly having been told to anticipate your arrival.

The moment you spot the group, they all erupt in enthusiastic hellos, even earning you a wolf whistle from a tall man in tropical print shorts. You’re the second girl here, with only two more to follow after you. There’s three boys already waiting. The one girl, Karina, runs up to you first, complimenting your outfit and makeup. You’re too smart to fall for it, knowing that she’s only doing so to scope you out quickly. Hell, you’ll be doing the same thing once more girls join in.

This is a competition, after all.

“Wow, it’s lovely to meet you.” A shorter guy with a sexy undercut approaches you with a shy side hug. He’s handsome and youthful, you note.

Your eyes meet once you exchange names. Mark, he had said. His name doesn’t match how sexy he is, but you bite your tongue on telling him that. He’s staring pretty intensely into your eyes and you feel locked in, but you remind yourself of the circumstance you’re in and hesitantly break away to meet the other guys.

They all greet you with hugs, but none of them leave an impression quite like Mark does. You learn that the man who gave you a wolf whistle is a tall man named Jungwoo. He interests you right off the bat, but the moment you’re done saying hello he’s back to talking to Karina.

He seems to be hitching his wagon early, so you do the same and travel back over to Mark’s side.

“Can I get you a drink?” He says, hand already reaching for the champagne bottle in the ice bucket. You laugh at his initiative, finding him quite endearing and nod your head yes.

“Where are you from?” He says as he fills the flute with with the bubbles.

“Take a guess,” you tease him with a smile on your face, leaning your elbows onto the high top table between you two. Your cleavage is certainly on display, an intentional move on your part.

“Aw, dude, don’t do that to me!” He whines cutely with animated eyes. You laugh again and answer him.

“Fine, fine. I’m from New York. Well, not originally but that’s where I live now.” You answer him as he hands you your flute. You want to tease him again for his heavy pour, but you bite your tongue.

“Oh, cool! I’m from Toronto originally but I’ve been living in Seoul for a few years to work on music.” You nod, eye being caught by the producers shushing you all in anticipation of a new person.

It’s a girl dressed in a neon green bikini, and Jungwoo graces her with the same wolf whistle he did for you. You mentally note his affinity for pulling the same moves on different women and join Karina in greeting her with over the top enthusiasm.

She introduces herself as Ryujin. You observe Mark give her the same awkward side hug that he did you, but just as quickly as he’s greeting her he’s back at your side. You smile, noting his apparent loyalty to you already.

“So, what do you do?” Mark asks you. You typically hate small talk, but appreciate that he’s keeping the conversation PG unlike the group adjacent to you two.

(“What’s your body count?” A loud, young guy asks Ryujin, and she gasps, slapping his shoulder in an obvious flirt.)

“I’m a stylist. I do freelance work for magazines and things like that.” You explain, and it’s cute how he pretends to find it interesting.

“Rate my outfit then.” He asks with a smirk. You take the opportunity to scan his body down to the shorts he’s wearing, but letting your eyes linger on his toned skin. He’s not muscular by any means, potentially skinny even, but the muscle definition that he does have suits him well.

You smile, about to answer them when Ryujin approaches the table again, “Care to pour me a drink, Mark?” She says and you smile politely at her as he sends you a quick glance before reaching for the bottle.

Ouch, but you get it. There’s a lot of people to get to know here, and Mark is currently only one of three guys. There’s still two more to arrive, and if Mark is the only one that’s interesting to her from the selection then so be it.

Thankfully, Mark doesn’t allow you to third wheel for long as he includes you in the conversation quickly.

“Y/N is from New York, too!” Mark exclaims and you smile in her direction to nod in confirmation. You have to remind yourself to stay calm as you speak to them. Two more boys are coming, and loyalties are as strong as tissue paper in the wind on shows like these.

You have to remember to stay focused and open minded. Thankfully, Mark and Ryujin are both exciting conversationalists so you’re able to stay engaged in the conversation until the producers quiet you all down again.

Ryujin leans over to whisper in your ear, “Do you think it’s a girl or a guy?” She asks excitedly. You giggle at her and shrug, squinting your eyes to attempt to spot the next figure through the palm tree leaves blocking a clear view of the door.

It’s a girl this time wearing a cut out one piece. It’s in a deep fuchsia to compliment her skin tone and light brown hair and you nearly gasp at her beauty once she smiles excitedly as she approaches.

She’s the last in and for good reason, she’s gorgeous. You’re the first to move in to introduce yourself.

“Hello, beautiful!” You announce and pull her into a hug. It’s a little difficult as she’s significantly taller than you, but you manage. She smiles genuinely as she returns your compliment, nearly forcing a blush on your cheeks. Her name is Yunjin, she shares with the girls.

Just like before, Mark gives her a side hug. It’s much more awkward and surely embarrassing on his part as she’s slightly taller than him with the help of her stilettos.

In fact, the only person tall enough for Yunjin is Jungwoo, so they quickly begin chatting, leaving you to Mark and Ryujin.

“Where’s the rest of the eye candy, huh?” Ryujin jokes and knocks your shoulder softly.

Ah, you think, she’s not into Mark. You smile at the realization and stare him right in the eye when you jokingly respond.

“Shit, I don’t know. It’s getting a little boring.” You challenge him silently and he raises one eyebrow while maintaining eye contact with you. You say nothing, only breaking the eye contact to bring your champagne flute back to your lips.

You had planned to play the field a bit more, but the pickings are slim with 4 girls and 3 boys so far, and Mark is far more interesting than Jungwoo and Haechan.

That is, until the producers quiet you once more to introduce the last 2 attendees. Ryujin perks up, standing on her tippy toes and leaning her body to try and sneak a glance. You’re hopeful for her sake, these are the last two guys who will be joining you for quite some time. For you, though, you feel as if you could hold your own with Mark, but the inkling curiosity still strikes as you wait for the last two boys.

Your jaw drops once you spot them. You have to blink your eyes once to clear your vision to absorb every detail.

Two men with bodies to die for and faces that seem painted by God himself emerge from the entrance.

One of them is a certified pretty boy, you can say that much, with his big eyes and charming smile. His blonde hair is styled perfectly and if he couldn’t get any hotter, he goofily greets the group with a squeal and wide arms. He seems young, but in all fairness most of the guys here are, too. He begins by greeting the table adjacent to yours, naturally so as they reacted just as enthusiastically as he had.

The other boy, though, is making a beeline for your table.

Wait, not just your table. He’s making his way towards you.

His lipped smile grows as he approaches slowly, dimples peeking out in his cheeks. You’re enraptured by his visuals immediately, meeting his eyes as he walks up to wrap both arms around you in a hug.

It takes you by surprise, but just as quickly as it’s begun it’s ended.

“My name is Jaehyun.” He introduces himself after he lets go, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You giggle and tilt your head at his hand, finding it odd that he’s choosing to give you a handshake after he’s already hugged you, but he’s so hot that you barely can think.

You shake his hand back, noting how big his is compared to yours as you give him your name.

“Mm,” he hums in satisfaction, “pretty name for a pretty girl.” he winks down at you and you genuinely giggle at that, turning your head bashfully to look at the ice bucket in the center of your table.

It’s nothing spectacular to look at, unlike Jaehyun, but it’s the ending the moment needed so he could go and make his rounds.

You watch him as he approaches the other table of people. He doesn’t give any other girls the same encapsulating hug that he gave you, it’s intentional and you know it. He makes it all the more obvious as he catches your eye after side hugging the two girls, clearly watching for your reaction.

Unsure of how you feel about the silent message, you turn back to Mark and Ryujin who have now begun talking about the villa.

“I’m really excited to see what the bedroom situation will be like.” You chime in, and Mark enthusiastically agrees and steps closer to you. He isn’t showing any signs that the greeting with Jaehyun irked him, which you find unbelievably sexy of him.

“I bet the bathroom is plush.” A voice from behind you says and you jump, turning to see Jaehyun cheekily smile down at you.

“You did that on purpose!” You hit his shoulder and he just laughs and stands in the empty spot opposite to Mark at the high top.

He shrugs, smirking, “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. You’ll just have to get to know me better to see.” He flirts and you smile back.

“I guess so.” You trail off, returning your attention to Mark and Ryujin. Now Mark is showing his true feelings, but only slightly with his attentive eyes already on you when you look at him.

He was watching you and Jaehyun. Interesting.

“Alright, lovers! How’re we feeling?” A voice over a megaphone startles you once more to steal your attention.

Your brain short circuits as you’re slightly star struck by the host in view. Doyoung, a jazz singer known for meeting his wife on the Bachelor, stands proudly on a small stage before you as the group whoops and hollers. You were warned that he’d be here, but seeing him in person makes it all the more real.

“Let me be the first to say welcome to the Summer of Love villa!” He lowers the megaphone this time, much to your gratitude, and you applaud with the rest.

“You’re all here because you have one thing in common— you’re too hot to be single!” The group erupts in laughter at that and Jaehyun sneakily leans in to your side to whisper,

“Especially you.”

You blush and turn your gaze back to Doyoung, doing your best to keep your cool. It’s already hot outside, but you feel yourself warming up a few extra degrees at his forwardness.

“Hey, you’ll have enough time to flirt later.” Doyoung teases Jaehyun and points his finger, and Jaehyun brings his arms up in surrender much to the amusement of the others. You blush even harder, staring straight ahead at Doyoung. Looking at either Jaehyun or Mark could be dangerous for you right now.

“You also all share another attribute, you all want something real.” Doyoung says and the crowd nods in agreement. Admittedly, you had no idea that was a part of the criteria to join the show, but you nod along with them anyways. It’s true, you suppose.

“To create an environment for real connections, at the end of each week you will pair up with another person here to dedicate your attention towards.”

“As you know, though, not all that glitters is gold. To put your relationships to the test, each week a new man or woman will join you here to search for their own perfect pair.” The group oohs and feigns shock. That, at least, you know is an act as you were told about the scope of the show before you even signed on.

“At the end of each coupling, anyone without a match will leave here alone. As you’ve already noticed, there’s four girls and five guys. So gentlemen, be aware that one of you will be the first to go home.” You glance around the group, looking for any obvious pairings forming already. There are none, which excites you. It’s open season, and there’s five cute guys here all needing to find a girl for tonight.

“To really bring up the heat in the summer of love, our first coupling will be tonight.” You gasp at that announcement, looking over to Mark and Jaehyun who are both already looking at you. Your palms begin sweating again.

“Now, are you ready to begin the Summer Of Love?” Doyoung says, speaking into the megaphone again. The group erupts in cheers, although you’re sure the rest of the group is feeling the same anxiety that you are.

After Doyoung released the group to go inside and explore the villa, the producers instruct you to gather by gender to discuss the others. The girls have gathered, much to your gratitude, at the infinity pool at the edge of the property. The heat is oppressive, so you stand near the edge of the pool where Yunjin has her feet dipped.

“He’s pretty cute and was flirting with me really hard,” Yunjin shares, “but Jaemin is really cute too and much more my type.”

You nod adding, “Jungwoo is from the same city as you, though.”

She pouts in consideration before nodding herself.

“Good point. I don’t know who I’m most interested in, then. Karina you go.” Yunjin passes the torch with a fake frustrated sigh. You laugh at her antics, scrunching your nose and directing your attention to the blonde lounging out on the tanning chair.

She looks as if she’s posing with the way her arms and legs are positioned, but you can’t blame her. The producers constantly meddling and the right black band around your waist make it impossible to forget that you’re on camera.

“I don’t know, honestly. Jaemin is cute, but we look too similar.” You and Yunjin share a look of confusion before she giggles in realization.

“Wait, because you’re both tall, hot blondes?” Yunjin giggles and Karina swipes the sunglasses off of her face.

“Well, yeah!” She says like it’s obvious and the three of you erupt in laughter at her statement.

“I’m not too sure that any of that matters.” Ryujin reassures her, to which you vocalize your agreement.

“Whatever. What I’m most interested in is Y/N’s thoughts.” Karina eyes you with a smirk and you look down at your intertwined hands leaning on the pool’s edge as the girls excitedly agree with her and urge you to speak up.

When you take too long to answer, Yunjin kicks your side and Ryujin tacks on to your other, smiling at you in anticipation.

“Okay, fine!” You cave in and the girls lean in, Karina moving to lay on her stomach backwards on the chair to be closer to you all.

“I honestly don’t know what to think.” You say with honesty. You truly do not know who you are more interested in.

“Oh, come on, Jaehyun had you blushing like a little schoolgirl!” Yunjin teases to attempt to get a confession out of you. Before you can say anything else, though, Ryujin pipes up.

“Yes, but did you see her and Mark? She was obviously feeling him, too.” You groan, head falling into your hands in embarrassment.

“Haechan wouldn’t stop checking her out either…” Karina adds.

“Oh, Jaemin too!” Yunjin piles on and you cringe at yourself. You had known about Mark and Jaehyun, but Haechan and Jaemin too?

You’ll admit, you’ve always known that you’re beautiful, but this is a whole new level of attention.

“There’s no way.” You say with your head still hidden.

“Damn, girl, you’re popular.” Ryujin says next to you and you roll your eyes.

“Helpful.” You snark at her and she wraps a sympathetic arm around you to pull you in to a fake hug.

“Champagne problems.” She coos and pets your hair teasingly, to which you playfully wiggle her off of you. The girls laugh and you sigh, settling down a bit to give them a true answer.

“It’s still early days, so I don’t know yet. I like that Mark is boyish, but Jaehyun is really charming.”

“Really charming.” Ryujin adds and you nod at her.

“Yeah, sure, he had me blushing, but cockiness can be disguised by confidence and I don’t know if that’s a risk I want to take.” The girls nod in understanding, and before Ryujin can share her answer, a voice booms out from the house.

“Round up!” An unfamiliar voice calls, most likely another producer, and you roll your eyes at the intrusion. It’s going to be hard to get used to.

The boys are the last to arrive to the patio where you’re sat with the girls. The cameras are blocking a clear view, but you can see Jaehyun and Mark chatting away as they approach. You smile, thankful that the competition over you didn’t place any walls between them.

“This seat taken?” Mark says and you smile, shaking your head no to allow him to sit on the loveseat with you. There’s barely enough room for you both, not that you’re complaining. To make more room, Mark leans his arm on the back of the loveseat and pulls you back to lean into his chest a bit.

Under other circumstances you’d push him off, but time moves quickly in the villa, especially for the boys who risk going home after tonight. Plus, you really really want to be here against him right now, so you’ll take the justifications.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is sitting next to Jungwoo on the sofa. You know that the only girl that he spoke to earlier was you, but you’re still surprised to see him single.

“Are you ready for your first challenge?” Doyoung says once he’s found his spot standing before you all. You all cheer in response, and once Mark’s done clapping, his free hand finds your knee. You blush even deeper, the butterflies in your belly erupting at the contact.

“In your first challenge, we will put your discernment abilities to the test in a game of first impressions.” The crowd oohs, Mark included, but you wait and listen.

“Each of you will be faced with real secrets about other people in this villa. You will then have to match the secret with the person that you think it belongs to.” You gulp, adjusting nervously. You didn’t know that this would come up so early in the show.

“You ok?” Mark whispers in your ear which startles you, but you quickly nod with a curt smile. He’s going to find out soon anyways.

“The person who guesses the most secrets correctly will be rewarded with a date with any other person of their choosing.” You’d have it in you to be excited along with the rest of the group if you weren’t so nervous.

You seriously weren’t expecting it to come up, not so soon at least. Not without you sharing it first. You feel as if the rug has been ripped out from underneath you, as if your story is no longer your own.

“Ladies first, Yunjin.” Doyoung calls her up dismiss her to the selection room. She gasps and shoots up quickly, blowing you all kisses goodbye as she retreats. The producers have instructed you all to stay silent to avoid cheating, so all you can do is sit with your thoughts as Mark’s thumb slowly rubs circles into your knee. It’s a comforting move, one that you’re needing quite a bit right now.

If you weren’t so preoccupied with your own thoughts, you’d notice Jaehyun staring daggers into Mark’s hand on your leg. You don’t, though, but Mark certainly does.

Mark had picked up on what was going on during the introductions earlier, but his fears were made real when Jaehyun expressed his interest in you to the guys as they all sat in the bedroom earlier that day. Mark felt small in that moment when faced with the reality of his competition, but he did his best to not let it get to him.

The mindset shift worked in his favor, clearly, as you were now here sitting with him, not Jaehyun.

All of the girls had left and returned by the time it was your turn. You sighed once your name was called, using Mark’s leg as a rest to help you up. Unlike the others, you don’t give any dramatic or cute goodbyes and simply walk to the room.

It’s exactly as you expected with the white walls lit up by LED lights displaying a wave of sunset colors. In the center of the room is a large touchscreen table currently displaying five photos and five digital envelopes to open.

You sigh as you approach, expressing your nerves to the camera up above the table. Hesitantly, you tap the first envelope to spark an animation of it opening to reveal the first secret.

Lost his virginity during seven minutes in heaven.

You scoff a laughter, shaking your head and clicking on the next. You want all of your options before you make pairings.

Said “I love you” 4 days in

You cringe at that one, but move on quickly so as to not embarrass the boy this secret belongs to.

Said the wrong name during sex.

You roll your eyes at that one. It’s clear what type of show the producers are trying to make. Too bad your secret doesn’t fit into the mold. You tap the next.

Got left at the altar.

Your heart drops to your stomach when you read that one. You tap on the card a few times to see if it’s real, and it is. You pause for a few seconds, but will yourself to move on. You’re wasting too much time.

Has moved in with 4 out of 5 of his past girlfriends.

With all the secrets revealed, you take a deep breath and laugh to yourself.

“These boys are such a mess.” You say half to yourself, half to the camera.

Your first instinct is to match Haechan with “said the wrong name during sex”, so you do just that.

Your eye is caught on “has moved in with 4 out of 5 past girlfriends” as another easy match. Jaehyun, obviously. Not only does he have the charisma to make 4 girls fall in love with him, he’s also the oldest boy which makes for more time in adulthood than the rest.

“Lost his virginity during seven minutes in heaven” is given to Jungwoo.

Purposefully avoiding the most intense secret, you pair Mark with “Said ‘I love you’ after four days”.

By default, you match Jaemin with “Got left at the altar.” You know your guess is wrong, but you’re not attracted to the idea of winning. If you win you then have to choose, which is the last thing you want to do right now.

Once you return happily to the waiting crew, you swap glances with Yunjin who has to look away quickly before bursting into giggles. Clearly, she found the challenge to be more amusing than you had.

The boys are called up next, and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t bounce your leg in anxiety when both Mark and Jaehyun left and returned respectively. Neither of them seem affected, so they clearly didn’t match you correctly.

“Results are in.” Doyoung emerges and you all burst in scandalous “ooh”‘s.

“Before we reveal the true answers, we must crown our winner.” Doyoung announces and the group leans in in excited anticipation.

“Jungwoo, you have won our first challenge.” Doyoung can barely finish his sentence over the loud cheers of the group congratulating him. He celebrates himself, but ends his celebration by grabbing Yunjin’s hand and kissing the back. She giggles bashfully and smiles ahead of her.

Well, you think, that’s that. With a proud smile for your new friend.

“Do you all want to know the true matches?” Doyoung eggs you all on, earning exasperated ‘yes’’s from the group.

Uh oh, here we go.

The boys go first, much to the excitement of the girls, you included. First, Doyoung reveals your score as a 1, much to your disappointment. Mark laughs at you and offers you a comforting shoulder pat which you accept happily. Whatever you have to do to get him to keep touching you, you think.

The rest of the girls didn’t do much better, with Karina scoring the highest at a pathetic 2.

Doyoung first reveals that Jungwoo is the one who has moved in with four girlfriends before. The group, although surprised, aren’t too shocked by the news. He even earned a few remarks of how that fits him. All that you care about, though, is that Jaehyun could now be any of the other four secrets.

Next Jaemin is exposed for having said the wrong name during sex, which earns him a chorus of boos that he humbly accepts with his head hung low. It’s all in lighthearted fun, though, as laughter soon follows and excited requests for the story. Jaemin declines to your collective dissatisfaction, and Doyoung moves on.

The only answer you got correct was Mark, expectedly. Oddly enough, though, what you found cringey in the selection room is now endearing when paired with the boy sitting next to you. He buries his head in embarrassment at the teasing coo’s of the group, groaning through his smile.

“I think it’s cute.” You whisper into his hair to attempt to force him out of hiding.

“Really?” His shining eyes meet yours and your heart glows at his hopeful look. You nod with a soft smile on your face before drawing attention back to Doyoung to break the moment. You don’t want to put all your eggs into one basket just yet.

Mark’s secret had distracted you, but now the reality of what’s left has hit you like a ton of bricks.

The only two boys left are Haechan and Jaehyun, two boys who couldn’t be any more different. The only two secrets couldn’t be any more opposite either.

The answer is obvious, right in front of your nose, but you want to make sure before you allow yourself to freak out. You stiffen against Mark’s chest again, and you pray that he doesn’t comment on it.

With sweaty palms, you pretend to be intrigued when Haechan is revealed to have lost his virginity during seven minutes in heaven. You even put on a pretend entertained face when he proudly tells the play by play — entirely unprompted.

The moment Haechan sits down, you allow yourself to stare Jaehyun down. He looks calm, but he can’t possibly be. Not when you know what you know and the entire world is about to, too. He must be feeling exactly as you are.

“That means that our poor Jaehyun here was left at the altar.” Doyoung announces and the crowd falls eerily solemn for a moment to read his response to the announcement.

But he shrugs. He just… shrugs? It lightens the mood enough to let the crowd offer half sincere condolences to him as he pretends as if it’s not a big deal. You’re flabbergasted, choosing to look onward at him blankly until he looks at you. He doesn’t.

The girls are due to be announced next, and you choose acceptance. It’s all coming out anyways.

Firstly, Karina is exposed to have split custody over a dog with her ex. You giggle at her reveal, seeing it as absolutely fitting.

Next, it’s revealed that Ryujin once went on three dates with a guy without knowing his name. That one surprises you, but you can’t say you don’t sympathize.

“Y/N,” Doyoung pauses and the group begins slapping their knees and cushions in a drumroll. All participate except Jaehyun, who just looks on with an odd warmness behind his eyes. You maintain your stare with him for a second or so before Doyoung speaks again.

“was left stranded on her honeymoon.” You sigh, the nerves settling now that your secret has been revealed. You don’t move a muscle until the girls begin to shout out confused exclaims.

“Wait, girl, seriously?” Yunjin asks and you meet her eyes with a sad look that confirms it all.

The girls then shout in unison again, but this time with dumbfounded half-compliments. The only one you catch is Ryujin’s, “He left a girl like you?”

You scoff, laughing a bit and looking at her, “Well, yeah.” with gentle eyes.

You refuse to turn to look at Mark, but you can feel his hand grip your leg tighter from beside you. Still, your head remains forward when Doyoung moves on.

Through the laughter at Yunjin’s secret revealed, you spot another blank face. Jaehyun, and he’s staring right at you.

Once the director calls cut on the cameras brought in specifically for the challenge, Jaehyun is up and making a beeline towards where you’re sitting with Mark.

“Let’s talk.” He says, hand extending out to you to grab.

“Hold on a sec,” Mark says, not letting go of your leg. You meet his eyes for the first time since before your secret was revealed and find nothing but concern on his face.

Great, you think, exactly what I didn’t want.

You look up at Jaehyun and see no panic, confusion, or concern. He looks… neutral.

“I’ll talk to you before the party, okay?” You say to Mark and he sighs, letting go of your leg to allow you to stand. You don’t take Jaehyun’s hand out of respect for Mark.

That is, until you’re out of Mark’s sight.

“Let’s go to the daybed.” Jaehyun says, moving your grasped hands to intertwine your fingers. You smile down at your feet at the gesture.

Once you’re settled, you sitting criss crossed and Jaehyun laying on his side in a relaxed lounge, he breaks the silence.

“Welcome to pathetic losers anonymous, my name is Jaehyun.” He says and urges you with his hand to continue the act. His attempt to lighten the situation makes you smile, a charmed look on your face when you reply, “Hi Jaehyun.” in a drawn out bored voice.

He cracks a genuine smile at that before he continues, “Two years ago my fiancée—ex fiancée— ran away with her ex boyfriend the night before our wedding.”

The gasp you let out at his confession makes you embarrassed, so you quickly apologize for your reaction. He smiles, shaking his head in a graceful dismissal of your apology as he continues, “They got married on April 6th and on April 8th, I accepted the offer to be on this show.” You nod in understanding. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as you look between his two eyes. Is this what you look like? Do you also look this unamused when talking about what happened to you?

“Unfortunately due to shrinking populations during the apocalypse,” you laugh at his joke, lightening the mood just a bit.

“there are only two members of Pathetic Losers Anonymous so participation is mandatory if you want to enjoy the amenities.” You choose to play along to his game once more, but with some snark.

“What amenities?” You ask with sass and he just smirks.

“Well, we have the lounge area,” he says while rubbing his hand on the daybed cushion between you. You nod and let out a false interested tone, urging him on with a smile.

“State of the art soundproofing,” he says while cheekily drawing the sheer curtain closed behind him. You cock your head with a suspicious smile on your face and he continues.

“Last but not least,” he grabs blindly behind the back board of the bed, “the pool!” He throws a chilled water bottle in your direction. You squeal, barely catching the flying object before it hits your face.

He breaks character for a moment to apologize, clearly not indenting to throw the bottle that hard. You can’t stop laughing, even when you meet his half concerned, half amused look.

“You dick.” You tease between giggles and he rolls his eyes playfully, laying back down and grabbing your arm to pull you down with him.

You don’t give in, still feeling the pressure.

“I’m scared for everyone to know.” You admit quietly, drawing meaningless patterns in the condensation that’s collected on the bottle in your hands.

“Duh, that’s why we have the state of the art soundproofing!” He jokes, although he knows exactly what you meant.

You meet his eyes before lying down on your back with your hands folded over your stomach.

“We got into a fight on our wedding night because he—“ you stop, reminding yourself that this is on camera.

“It doesn’t matter what we fought about, but we did.” You finally say and Jaehyun nods from where he’s sitting up on his elbow looking down at you. There’s a considerable ten inches between your bodies, but he feels uncomfortably close still.

“When we landed in Cancun I thought we were fine, but he had booked himself a different hotel.” Jaehyun sits patiently for you to reveal the last part of your story.

“I thought he just wanted some time to cool off, so I let him have it. I thought he would check in on me, or call me, or something but he didn’t for that entire week. I spent my honeymoon alone.” You sigh and close your eyes, refusing to let your emotions bubble.

“When I got to the airport at the end of the trip I found out he had gone home the same day that we got there. He left me all alone in Cancun by myself for a week waiting for him.” You pause once again.

“He put his wedding band and annulment papers into an envelope and slid it under my office door for me to find a week later.” You finish your story, looking over at Jaehyun.

He’s unreadable, which is frustrating, but almost welcomed with how overwhelming your own feelings are.

“When did this happen?” He asks.

“A year ago.”

He sighs, not too sure what to say to you. You can’t blame him, you didn’t know what to say to him either.

After a few more uncomfortable moments, you lift your hand up in a fist leaned slightly towards him.

“We’re even now.” You say, inviting him to fist bump you. He chuckles through his nose and fist bumps you.

You sit there for a few more moments just staring at each other basking in the intimacy.

Then you remember the last time you felt this way and turn your logical brain back on.

“I don’t even know where you live.” You say flatly and he laughs at that.

“I guess you don’t, huh?” He says through a smile and you shake your head with a neutral expression.

“I guess you should since you know everything else.” He says before telling you about how he was born in South Korea but moved to London as a kid. More questions down the line and you discover that he’s a doctor, an optometrist to be exact, and ‘That’s how I know you have pretty eyes, I see them all day long.’

Once you share your own lot of fun facts, you decide it’s finally time to join the group again, much to Jaehyun’s disappointment.

“Can you just promise me that you’ll consider me to couple with tonight?” He asks before you round the corner back to the main living space and back to the group.

You smile and with the assistance of your intertwined hands, elevate to your tippy toes to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.

It’s all the answers he needed.

Mark finds you while you’re washing your hands in the plush bathroom.

“Hey, can we talk?” He says with the same concerned eyes as before. You look at him through the mirror and sigh, taking your time turning off the faucet and drying your hands. You turn on your heel to rest your ass against the counter and extend your arms out to Mark, he quickly obliges and steps into your space where you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands find your hips easily.

“Can I be honest?” You ask and he nods quickly.

“Of course.”

You pout and shake your head, “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, if that’s alright.”

Mark’s face falls a bit but he nods in understanding, repeating the same sentiment from before.

“It just worried me and—“ He begins to ramble but you cut him off.

“Mark, I’ve only know you for a day. I want to know your favorite color first before you know all the skeletons in my closet.” You attempt to reason, but he replies quickly,

“Blue.”

“Mark,” you drag out his name in a whine and his brain seems to catch up to his mouth as he giggles at himself and apologizes, a faint tint of pink rising on his cheeks.

“Can we go swimming or something?” You ask after a moment of laughter.

He nods with a smile, stepping away from you to allow you to stand.

The pool is even nicer now that the sun has nearly set, falling behind the house to give you some much needed shade. The sky is a beautiful orange, and in the moments that both you and Mark are still enough, you can hear the rolling waves from the beach.

Mark is an even nicer view from where you are with your head half dipped in the water as you float on your back. He’s looking down at you with those boyish eyes with a soft smile.

“What?” You ask after a long moment of his stare.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “nothing,”

You groan, breaking your float to stand and look up from Mark’s seated position on the thin infinity edge of the pool.

“Mark,” you say bluntly.

“Nothing!” He giggles out a whine, the same pink blush from before sitting on his cheeks.

You don’t let up though, and he just sighs and laughs before admitting, “I was just thinking how I’m really enjoying getting to know you.”

You almost aww at him, your heart melting at the comment. He’s special, you think. Gentle spirited, sweet, and genuine.

“I’m having fun getting to know you, too.”

You hadn’t realized what you said before he asked you, “Does that mean we’re coupling up tonight?”

You can feel your heart wrench at the hope in his voice. You hadn’t decided yet, you couldn’t tell him yes.

“Mark, I just meant… I don’t know what I meant.” You admit and he dejects a little.

“I want to get to know you, but I also want to get to know someone else. I need time to figure out what I’ll decide.” You say finally and he nods in understanding.

“Can I enjoy getting to know you right now, then?” He asks with the same boyish smile from before and you giggle at him, grabbing his arms and tugging as hard as you can to hopefully send him barreling towards the water.

“Amateur.” He playfully scoffs before jumping in himself, grabbing your legs from underwater and quickly flipping you around to pull you in by your waist to his back and hoist you up. Before you knew it, you were midair about to splash into the water below you.

Once you emerge from the warm water, the first sound you hear is Mark’s bellowing cackle in your direction. You find it just as hilarious, but choose to take the game further instead.

“You dick!” You squeal when you jump in his direction, barely grabbing onto his shoulders as you push down with all your weight to attempt to force him underwater.

When he doesn’t budge you exclaim, “Oh, come on!” which makes him laugh out again. In a moment of boldness, he turns around to face you from where you stand unbelievably close.

“I’ll go under if, and only if,” he pauses and you roll your eyes, poking his shoulder to push him back to swivel a bit.

“Dumbass,” you mutter under your breath and his eyes widen as well as his smile.

“Hey, be nice!” He giggles out and you playfully roll your eyes once more, waving him to continue his sentence.

“I’ll go under if you kiss me.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at his boldness, searching for anything but sincerity between his two eyes. You see nothing of the sort, in fact, you see only desire.

Glancing down at his lips once, you find his proposition all the more tempting. When you place your hands back on his shoulders, no push to send him down this time, he takes it as all the sign he needs to grab you by the hips and place his lips on yours.

He’s gentle for a moment, but picks up the pace a bit once he feels you respond. You smile into the kiss, pulling him closer by the neck as he kisses you harder, his hands gripping the skin at your waist roughly. You grab the back of his head when you switch positions and he hums gratefully into the softness of your lips together. It’s passionate, that’s for damn sure, and you’re loving every moment.

When you feel his tongue prod at your lips, you detach from him and stare up at him with a bashful smile. He looks down at you wonderstruck, but his face morphs quickly after into a devious smirk.

The moment that connect the dots between his face and his hands current position on your body, he’s jumping into the air as you squeal, flopping you both down into the water to make do on his side of the deal.

Thank God for separate dressing rooms. There’s a lot of pressure on you tonight, and both Jaehyun and Mark are distracting as hell. You had read about the crazy time warp you go into when you’re filming a reality show, but you hadn’t believed it until now. Today has felt like a lifetime and it’s not even over yet. On top of that, you still have to break someone’s heart tonight.

You groan at the thought, head thumping down on the table in front of you in frustration. You’ve been doing that a lot recently.

“What did I tell you? Champagne problems.” Ryujin sing songs from her spot at the vanity next to yours.

“My brain can’t work if all you’re doing is telling it that it can’t work!” You exclaim and she laughs sympathetically.

“Well, tell me about it then.” She urges and you huff while you pump your foundation onto the back of your hand.

“Jaehyun is mature, goofy, and confident as all hell. He is also hot as fuck with those cute ass dimples. He’s tall, and he’s got a fucking six pack dude,” she laughs in disbelief and you continue.

“And he gets me, you know?” Ryujin listens with an attentive nod.

“He knows what to say because he gets it. He just… he gets me.” You finish off.

“What about Mark?” She asks and you scoff.

“What not about Mark, you mean? He’s just this precious little thing. He’s genuinely sweet and super open hearted. He’s being nice without even realizing that he’s being nice.” You say finally.

“Wow, girl.” Ryujin says after you have a moment in silence.

“What do I do?” You ask her, genuinely seeking an answer.

“I dunno, flip a coin, I guess.” She suggests and you roll your eyes and let out an exasperated laugh.

You sigh as you return to doing your makeup, you’ll just have to figure this out on your own.

The party is, as you find out, an open bar with restaurant volume royalty free hip hop music playing from a speaker behind the bar.

“Impressive set up, huh?” Jaehyun says from over your shoulder. He’s cleaned up nicely in an all black outfit, jeans on bottom and a satin dress shirt up top. He’s refreshed his cologne as well, and the warm and woodsy scent is almost as intoxicating as your drink is.

“Get 3 more of these in me and I’ll turn it into Vegas.” You joke and he laughs genuinely, hand coming into contact with the exposed skin of your lower back as he steps closer to you.

“I love this song.” He says as he bounces to the beat. You laugh at his nerdy attempt to mouth the lyrics he most certainly does not know.

“Oh, do you now?” You call him out with a teasing lilt in his voice and he stops dancing.

“No, of course not, does anyone for that matter?” He jokes and you laugh again with a shrug. After a moment he excuses himself to grab his own drink and you promise to hold his spot on your dance card.

You know Mark’s watching you because before Jaehyun came up to you, you were watching him. All you can do is pray that he doesn’t approach you now as you wait for Jaehyun to come back.

You want to see Mark tonight too, but not now. You need to figure your shit out about Jaehyun first.

Thankfully, Mark stays in his place standing with Jungwoo and Yunjin who had just returned from their date with stories to share. Mark’s not mad to see you with Jaehyun. Jealous, maybe, but he understands the process.

“God, you’re seriously the most beautiful girl.” Jaehyun says after he’s by you again, hand coming back to your lower back.

“There’s only four girls here.” You tease and take another sip. He responds by stepping in closer to you with a soft smile on his face. You can feel his palm press into your back to pull you closer. It’s so gentle that you aren’t sure that he even knows that he’s doing it.

“I wasn’t talking about the other girls here.” He says softly and you can feel his whisper breath on your face.

He’s so close he could kiss you right now, but you’re reminded of your audience out near the crowded bar and decide to take a small step back from him. Just enough to kill the moment, but not enough to draw his hands off of you.

He notices your retreat but doesn’t say anything, which you’re grateful for.

The moment is over as soon as it began when the producers usher you all to the same covered patio as earlier in the day. This time, though, you’re sat next to Jaehyun on the sofa. His hands don’t wander like Mark’s do.

“Okay, lovers!” Doyoung shouts out as he walks up to where you’re waiting for him. You applaud entirely out of obligation.

“How was your first day?” He asks and the group whoops and hollers in response. You don’t share the same excitement after your first day. You feel like you need another drink.

“Now, as you all know, at the end of the night, one of you will be leaving the villa.” You want to roll your eyes, he keeps on rubbing it in. You get it.

“You have four hours to couple up and make your way inside.” He says with a nod before walking off. You heave out a sigh when he disappears. You’re annoyed that he brought you all the way over here for such an unnecessary announcement. You have decisions to make, dammit! You’re already completely over this reality TV thing.

“Try not to look so discouraged, Twitter might actually see you as a person.” Jaehyun jokes from beside you, earning him a giggle and a nudge on the shoulder.

“Twitter already knows my deepest darkest secret.” You reply and he hums with a knowing smile.

“Can we get away from here?” He says gesturing to the overwhelming amount of cameras observing you.

They’re everywhere, you’ve discovered, and typically expertly hidden. Regardless of where you go the cameras will follow, but there’s something intimidating about seeing them so explicitly.

“Sure.” You reply and allow him to help you stand, not letting go of your hand once you’re stable.

Jaehyun leads you to the fire pit on the side of the house. It’s not lit, but the edison bulbs strung above your heads make for a cozy environment regardless. You adjacent to one another in the beach chairs set to surround the circle.

Once settled, you lean your head into the palm of your hand as you watch him closely. He’s manspreading in an attractive way, limbs stretched out and loose. His head resting against the back of the chair with his eyes closed tell you that he’s completely relaxed.

One of us should be, you figure.

“I’m really sorry about what happened to you.” He says quietly, eyes open but not looking at you.

You sigh, slouching your shoulders forward a bit, “I’m sorry about what happened to you, too.”

This time he does look over to you with a gentle smile and a look of fondness in his eyes.

“We didn’t deserve that, did we?” He asks, and you hope it’s rhetorical. You answer anyways.

“Not at all.”

He hums, taking a moment to pause and take you all in. After a long quiet moment, he speaks, “I like you.”

A smile spreads across your lips in tandem with the butterflies in your belly rising up your chest to make your heart beat faster.

You pause for a moment, scanning your brain for any reason why this may be wrong, but you find nothing.

“Thank you.” Is all you say and he scoffs out a disbelieving chuckle.

“You’re welcome, I guess… Weirdo.” He teases you with the insult and his over exaggerated side eye. You laugh at his faux offended attitude, a common pattern for you today.

“I want to play fair.” You say, feeling quite swayed.

He shrugs, pout coming onto his face when he protests, “Be a little naughty.”

You gasp and he looks over to you with a flirty smirk on his face, the same that he first approached you with. It makes you blush embarrassingly quickly.

“I will do no such thing!” You exclaim and he laughs at you this time, flirting back easily.

“Yawn, but okay.” He sighs before standing, lifting the chair by the armrests behind his back to sit his chair right next to yours, the arm of his chair nearly overlapping yours.

Once he’s sat again, he grabs your hand and, without breaking eye contact, kisses the back of your hand from where it’s intertwined with his.

You feel far too shy to say anything about the contact, so he speaks again.

“I meant it, though.” He says with a serious look behind his eyes. You’ve had enough of the intensity today, so you detour the conversation.

“Which part? The part where you called me a weirdo, or when you called me boring for not wanting to be, quote, naughty?” By the end of your exaggerated recollection of events, Jaehyun is shaking with laughter from the seat next to you, urging on your own fit of giggles.

It takes a while, but you two finally settle down after your laughter fit. He’s still smiling wide when he shares what he truly meant.

“I like you.”

You gulp, nodding in understanding and looking down at your intertwined hands.

“The only way I’m staying here is if I’m here with you.” He says after a moment of silence. You had figured as much, but it feels even more real once he says it out loud. You aren’t quite sure what to say, you don’t have an answer for him. You’re still deeply invested in Mark, too.

“You don’t need to have an answer for me now, I know you have other stuff going on,” you relax a bit once he sympathetically lifts the pressure off of you.

“There’s no other girl for me here, I’m all in to see where this can go.” He admits and your heart jumps up to your throat. His understanding makes him all the more attractive to you.

“I won’t leave you hanging, that’s all I can promise you.” You say, looking up at him meekly. From how close he’s sitting, you can see the tiniest reflection of the lights above in his dark eyes.

He doesn’t respond verbally, having said all that he could, instead choosing to grab your jaw to pull you closer to him.

You gasp and squint your eyes shut, but nothing happens for a moment. Only once you’re noticed this you begin to feel his lips make gentle contact with your forehead.

Your heart lurches. Fuck.

Mark greets you with a bear hug once you’re back in the lounge having left Jaehyun at the fire pit.

(“You coming?”

“I’ll wait for you here.”)

“Don’t scare me like that again!” He let’s out into your hair, squeezing you to emphasize his words.

“What did I do?” You whine, acting very poorly to hide that you love the moment.

“I thought you were going to couple up with him.” He admits and the pieces finally fall into place.

He lets you go then to pull back and look at you, his hands on your biceps to keep you in place.

“Thank you for not doing that to me.” He says and you giggle, nodding politely.

“Let’s talk?” You say after a moment and he nods with enthusiasm. It seems as if one couple has already gone to bed as well as a few members of the camera crew.

He leads you further down the path than you thought he would, stopping to sit on the wooden stairs leading down to the beach. It’s dark out, but you can make out his features well still.

“Gonna murder me, Mark?” You joke with a fake uncomfortable laughter and he chuckles and grabs your thigh.

“I like the sound of the ocean.” He answers truthfully without being asked. You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. There’s something about physical intimacy with this boy that you just can’t get enough.

“Tell me about the girl.” You prompt him without much hesitation. You’re not known for being nosy, but something about imagining Mark telling a girl he loves her irks you slightly. So you dig.

He groans, leaning his head to rest on top of yours, “Nah,” he shuts you down.

“Did you mean it at least?” You ask, still not relenting.

“Oh, absolutely.” He affirms and you hum.

“How long ago?” You ask, treading very lightly.

“About a year ago.” He answers. He’s being extremely cautious, which you understand.

“Do you still love her?” You boldly ask and he shakes his head against yours.

“Would I be here with you if I did?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I would hope not!”

He just chuckles in response and leaves a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m really glad I met you.” He says after a quiet moment. You smile, a warm feeling spreading across your chest.

“Stop,” you whine in embarrassment and sit up, turning your back to him and he giggles.

“It’s true!” He exclaims and pulls your shoulder back to face front once more.

“You just,” you hang your head low to try and conceal your blush, “you keep on saying all these sweet things to me.”

He smiles at that, grabbing your chin to make you face up and look at him. His soft eyes shining in the moonlight stare deep into yours.

He kisses you, just a simple peck, but it affects you all the same.

“There’s nobody else here for me.” He says and you’re immediately reminded of how Jaehyun just shared the same sentiment with you only a few minutes ago.

You nod in response. When you first signed up for this show you hadn’t anticipated so much pressure lying on your shoulders.

“I need some time to think.” You say and he nods in agreement and understanding, but there’s a disappointed look in his eye.

“I know.” He smiles at you, and this time you make the first move.

The stubble on his jaw is rough beneath your fingertips when you gently grab him to pull him in for a kiss. It’s gentle, slow, and beautifully intimate. He kisses you on the forehead once you’ve pulled away.

“Do you want me to go?” He asks and the true answer is no, but you know that you need some alone time to make up your mind.

“Want isn’t the word I would use.” You say and he chuckles and nods in understanding.

“I’ll be inside. Come find me once you’re ready.” He says with one final squeeze to your thigh before standing and retreating back indoors.

Once you can no longer hear the sound of his feet on the rickety boardwalk, you heave out a breath, head falling into your hands.

You haven’t been this conflicted since, well, ever, and it’s tearing you apart inside.

Your desire for both is shocking to you, especially how you’ve managed to become so connected to both of them in such a short period of time. It’s devastating to imagine losing either of them. Your mind is perfectly split down the middle for both.

The crashing waves in the distance do little to calm your wild heart. In 30 minutes you’ll need to make your decision and send one of them home.

Who will you choose?

Ok, your turn!

vote for which boy to couple with!

voting ENDS 7/5

taglist:

@rum-gone-why @asteriaskingdom @feltednettles

[bakedbakermom]

Takeout Interruptus (read on ao3) fluff and humor // T // 1k words tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

A makeout session is interrupted by an over-enthusiastic delivery boy who just can't take a hint. (Note: "OK Chinese Restaurant" is a real place in the SF Bay Area, so I hope you will forgive me for the name. I always wanted to open another place across the street called "Good Chinese Restaurant.")

Scully’s tongue thrusts hot and wet into his mouth, her hands tangled in his hair. She gasps as his fingers slip under the hem of her shirt to begin a teasing journey up the sweet plains of her stomach, inching higher and higher... when a loud knock sounds at Mulder’s door. “Sorry,” he murmurs against her lips. “Forgot I ordered food.”

She whines when he pulls away, though her stomach is rumbling. “Hurry back, G-Man.”

He smiles over his shoulder as he grabs his wallet and opens the door, revealing a gangly teenager with bright red hair, a smattering of acne, and an anemic little caterpillar of a mustache valiantly attempting to crown his upper lip. In his hands are two bulging bags of takeout, their stylized font proudly proclaiming them the product of Mr. Fung’s OK Chinese Restaurant (Ask About Two-for-One Tuesday Special!).

“Hey, Zack, how’s it going?”

“Good, Mr. Mulder, thanks. That’ll be $27.50.” He holds the bags up for emphasis and Mulder thumbs through his wallet. “Hey, so, you were right about that book you told me about, the one with the yetis? Susie thought it was really cool and now I think maybe she thinks I might be really cool and so I was just wondering if you had any, like, recommendations for more? Because, like, I’m not great with girls, and she’s so pretty and so smart and she smells, like, so good and I just don’t want to blow it, like—“

Mulder pulls out a few worn bills with an unnecessary flourish, waving them right under the boy’s nose, and Zack’s motor mouth dies abruptly. “Next time, okay? Keep the change.”

Oblivious, the young man bumbles on. “Come on, man, it’s just that I’m, like, really nervous? I’m supposed to meet up with her after my shift tonight and she was like, ‘it’s no big deal’ but, like, it’s a super big deal and you’re always so, like, suave and stuff I just thought maybe—”

“Zack,” Mulder says with emphasis, though not without kindness. “I’m a little busy tonight.”

The boy peers around his shoulder into the living room. “Oh hey, Ms. Scully.” She smiles indulgently and wiggles her fingers at him in a small wave. “You guys got some cool new case going on? Oh is it gross? Susie loves when I talk about the gross ones, that Flukeman thing had her fascinated for days so maybe you could just, like, give me a few details and I could like—”

He is inching closer to the door and Mulder sticks a hand out to grab the frame, his forearm forming a barricade before the boy can cross the threshold. “Not exactly, Zack.” Scully can’t see his face, but she can hear in his voice the wide eyes, the raised brows, the way his mouth presses into a thin line as he silently begs the boy to take the damn hint (and the money) and go.

Zack peeks around him again, slower this time, and his eyes widen along with his grin. His gaze flicks back and forth as he takes in Scully’s pinked cheeks, Mulder’s disheveled hair, the coffee table with a pair of near-empty wine glasses and no casefiles in sight. “Oh man! Oh, oh wow. Is this—? Are you—? Oh man!” He gives Mulder a bony but encouraging punch on the shoulder, thumping him in the gut with the takeout bag in the process. “Yeah, sorry, yeah, no, you got it, Mr. Mulder, I’m outta here, say no more, I’ll just, yeah, okay uh—”

He bolts all of three steps before realizing he forgot something, and nearly drops it all as he tries to hand Mulder both bags and take the money at the same time, with only two knobby arms to handle the job. One more glance into the living room, his smile so big it looks painful and shows off an impressively shiny array of orthodontics. “Yeah, okay, bye guys, have a good night, I mean, uh, I’ll just—”

“Bye, Zack.”

“Right, yeah, uh, bye!” He nearly trips over his own oversized feet as he sprints down the hall, shoes squeaking all the way. Rolling his eyes, Mulder pushes the door shut—but not before they hear him whispering excitedly to himself, “Wait ‘til I tell Susie about this!” His voice cracks on the last word.

“Scully?” Mulder asks as he turns back to her. “Do you ever get the feeling that everyone in the world was just waiting for us to get together, and we were too dumb to see it?”

She rises from the couch and takes the bags, then pushes up on her toes to press her mouth fleetingly to his. “Frequently. I’m pretty sure Skinner has Barbie dolls of us and he makes them kiss when he thinks no one is watching.”

He follows her into the kitchen, grabbing plates from the shelves she can’t reach while she rummages through the drawers for clean utensils. When she turns to face him, she finds him already close enough to touch, close enough that his body heat washes over her in a wave that sends tingles from her scalp to her toes. He grabs the counter on either side of her waist, trapping her between the firm brackets of his arms. “Think that kid is gonna get lucky tonight?”

Scully smiles, hooking her fingers through his belt loops and pulling until his hips are flush with hers. She threads her hands into his hair and pulls his face down close. “The more pressing question is,” she whispers, her breath ghosting over his lips, “are you going to get lucky tonight?”

“Would it improve my chances if I started talking about yetis?”

She reaches around, squeezes his ass with both hands, and he yelps as he bucks against her. “Let’s not risk it,” she smirks into his mouth, and kisses him like she wants to swallow him whole.

The takeout goes cold on the counter, but warms up nicely for a midnight snack.

I could not get this idea out of my head. At first I wanted to make it a scene in a larger piece of smut, but ultimately decided it was too funny and needed to be shared on its own. So. Here you go. I do not know why all my fics lately are food-related.

[traineecryptid]

NPSS Weibo Q&A (20240831) Part 4

This is a Q&A session held on Weibo. People will tag their questions with the hashtag #南派三叔藏海花在线答疑# (#NPSS Zang Hai Hua Online Q&A#) and NPSS will look through the tag to pick some to answer. The event started at 1500 hours on 2024 August 31st.

Folder with screenshots and big compilation google doc is here. Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here.

1608

Q: Man crush, honestly, do you think that West Lake Vinegar Fish is delicious? Can you finish a plate of Vinegar Fish from Louwailou by yourself?

A: Actually, I really can’t. At most, I can eat two bites. But I’ve heard that they’ve improved their recipe lately and now it’s very delicious.

1609

Q: Shu, how long do you spend online from day to night? Your mental state is great. (T/N: “great” as in “wow what a mental state!”) A: I actually have too many things to write but well, I’m a liuliang celebrity, aren’t I?

1609

Q: The unbeatable, most handsome man crush in the universe, may I ask if Wu Xie would get caught by Xiaoge and Pangzi for sneakily buying game currency in LOL so he can buy skins? A: You can’t skimp on skins no matter how poor you are. Everyone understands this.

1611

Q: Sanshu, you have written about so many places in China, have you considered letting the Iron Triangle go tomb robbing overseas? A: I’ve written a movie script previously. The three of them were kidnapped and brought inside a pyramid. I was prepared to direct it myself but there was an Ebola outbreak right when the filming site in West Sahara finished construction.

1611

Q: I’ll post this again. Lei, can you invite the original singer to perform Three Days of Silence next year? People go to the bathroom three times (T/N: this is the proverb meaning to visit a place persistently until you get the result you want), why don't you go to the bathroom three hundred times. After all, there’s still more than 300 days till the next 817.

A: I visit once per day? Won’t it make me look like a loan shark?

1613

Q: When will this Q&A end?

A: It won’t end. I will answer at any time.

1613

Q: Shu, you’ve previously said that you’ll slowly delete the drafts on your public account. Can you not delete them? I really like to read the drafts over and over again.

A: There isn’t enough space. There’s too many [drafts]. Even if I don’t delete them, you can’t find them either.

1615

Q: If Zhang Qiling could only say one sentence to Wu Xie in this lifetime, what would he say?

A: I can only say one sentence to you in this lifetime, go get paper and pencil, I’m going to start saying this sentence and try my best to not stop and tell you everything that I can say, don’t interrupt me, let’s see how long I can make this sentence, now listen up, Wu Xie, my plan is goes like this bla bla bla bla bla—

1616

Q: Do you think that you can write better than you have previously? Or has that best feeling stage passed? A: I can go back [to that state], but I will go insane. Once I go insane, I will hurt everyone, including you all.

1618

Q: Shu, I think you wrote the best when you were in the psychiatry hospital. Can you trouble yourself and fulfill us and go there again? A: Here comes the crazy guy.

1620

Q: I’m praying for Shu to get Tianshou today and update nonstop.

A: Once the Tianshou ends, there’s a great probability that I will go to Liuheta (T/N: a culture park in Hangzhou, West Lake area) and run around naked.

1623

Q: What were the first impressions Zhang Qiling and Wu Xie had of each other?

A: Wu: Wah, it’s a show off. Zhang: Looks like there’s a layman on the team.

1624

Q: Man crush, if you were to choose a birthplace in DMBJ, would you choose the Golmud Sanatorium or the Bronze Gate?

A: Are these birth places? What is my mom thinking?

1629

Q: Which one do you like more; going to work or going to jail? Can you write while you’re in jail or write while you’re at work?

A: What’s the difference?

1631

Q: Shu, what do you think ZHH means to you?

A: I was suffering a lot when I wrote ZHH. It was before my mental breakdown. I went crazy after finishing it.

60 questions in! /laid flat on the ground. Only 60 questions in... and the list keeps getting longer. On one hand, I kinda regret spacing these out so much but on the other hand... I need something to fill my days between the ZHH updates. Maybe I'll do double updates tomorrow! Who Knows!

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024 #10, choice

Read parts 1-8 on AO3 here

++++++

The Perfect Place - Part Nine

They kept leaning against the shop’s brick wall, long after their laughter had ebbed off. A comfortable silence had ensued as each of them had become lost in thoughts.

Sherlock glanced sideways at John, watching him staring into space with a blissful expression on his face. The sight made him happy and full of hope that John might come with him to the flat. He further hoped that John would be so impressed with 221b that he would also move in as Sherlock’s flatmate (and loving boyfriend, of course).

In his mind, John was miles away from London. He reminisced his time in Afghanistan, being an army doctor and a soldier and how he had missed this life terribly after being invalided out. Every day there had been full of excitement and danger, he had done important work and had been needed to save limbs and lives. He had been respected, had lots of comrades and his life had been full of options.

When he had returned to London, everything was the exact opposite. No perspective for the future, no money, no job, an invalid with a dodgy leg and a trembling hand and no friends. Taking on the position and a bed shop assistant had been an act of sheer desperation and also mirrored the exact opposite to his work back in Ahghanistan.

And now, this Sherlock Holmes who wanted to buy a boxspring bed had turned John’s stagnant and depressing life upside down and John loved every minute of it. He could not recall a time when he had had so much fun.

John sighed and wished this moment would never pass.

“Do you plan on actually putting this bed into your flat?” John asked.

"Yes, of course. I really need one and also, it’s a very comfortable bed.” Sherlock grinned. “I bought it, remember?”

“For your second bedroom.”

“For the main bedroom. There is a second one, but it is unused. The main bed is terrible, the mattress would cause any orthopaedist nightmares and it’s too short for me either.  It’s still from Victorian times like most of the flat’s furniture. But it will be a lovely flat, once everything is sorted.”

(Sherlock meant once when all of the bits and bobs and odds and ends he had scattered everywhere had been sorted. Preferably by some benign person who liked tidying up.)

John hummed. “Ah, so you’re only about to move in?”

“Yes, I’ve helped the landlady and she gives me a discount on the rent.”

John looked sharply at Sherlock. “You intimidated her, too?”

“I did not intimidate Bernie.” Sherlock protested. But John kept staring at him until he relented. “Okay, I did. Whereas Mrs Hudson’s discount has been made out of genuine gratitude.”

“Where is it?”

“221b Baker Street.”

“Oh, wow, central London.” John thought of his miserable bedsit he could afford just so. “Must still be expensive even with a discount.”

Sherlock seized the opportunity. “Well, actually, you’re correct. Therefore, I have been looking for a flatmate.”

“Oh.” John’s face fell, clearly disappointed. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

High time for the next step, Sherlock! His brain egged him on, finally invite John to see the flat!

“Erm, no one, so far.” Pretending to be non-chalant and not caring much about John’s answer, Sherlock continued, “Would you like to have a look? After all, you promised to take care of the Feng Shui energy, didn’t you?”

“No, I absolutely did not”, John chuckled, “you only made that up to give Bernie a heart attack.”

“But you’re interested in seeing it, yes?”

“I’m wondering why you haven’t already found a flatmate. I mean it sounds like a great place so where is the catch? Noisy neighbours? Nosey landlady? Cockroaches? Leaky plumbing?”

“If you choose to come with me, you might find out.”

Since Sherlock made it sound like a dare, John took the bait at once. “Lead the way then.”

(John had the impression that he made a deliberate choice to follow Sherlock this day, when, in fact, John would never have any choice at all regarding Sherlock.)

+++++

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear @raina-at

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con bordering on non-con, ignoring of sexual boundaries

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

4. Mise-en-Place

Wait! I haven't read the previous chapter(s)

Steve has to promise his coworker Daryl everything short of oral sex to get him to pick up his weekend shifts. But he does agree to do it.

And then Steve spends most of the week daydreaming about the upcoming trip with James. He packs and repacks his bag probably a dozen times. He doesn’t really know anything about what they’ll be doing, other than fucking and hanging out at the house. And he doesn’t know anything about the house except that it has a hot tub.

“The Catskills?” Clint complains when Steve calls the morning of his departure to let him know that he’ll be gone for a few days. “You’ve known this guy for a hot second and you’re letting him take you away to the middle of nowhere?”

Steve huffs. “It’s not the middle of nowhere. He’s got a house out there. He goes there all the time.” Steve stuffs his swim trunks into his already stuffed-full weekend bag, then wrestles the zipper closed. He plops down onto his bed with the phone at his ear. “Be happy for me. I really think this is going to go somewhere.”

Clint sighs over the line. “Fine. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve says primly.

“You’re welcome. Look, just … just let me know when you’ve gotten there safely, okay? And text me his address so I at least know where to send the cops for your body.”

“Thank you, Safety Officer Barton,” Steve drawls. “I’ll text you.” They say goodbye and Steve hangs up. He checks the time—still an hour to go. He sighs and tries to resist the urge to check and repack his stuff again.

Steve’s smile is massive as James pulls up in front of his building in the most ridiculous car Steve’s ever seen outside of a movie. “Wow,” he says.

James is movie star handsome in his windswept hair and sunglasses, jaw working as he chews a piece of gum. “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Steve laughs at the line and tosses his bag in the backseat. He opens the passenger side door and slides in across buttery leather. “Is this a fucking Lamborghini?”

“Bugatti, baby,” James says, popping his gum. “You like it?”

“Well I’m not exactly a car guy but …” Steve looks around the interior and nods, impressed. “Don’t you think it’s too cold to have the top down?”

“Psh, 'course it is.” James pushes a button on the dash and the top starts coming out. He leans over and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Just wanted to pull up in style.”

Steve hums, taking in the nice outfit James is wearing, how he manages to look so well put together even when he’s casual. (What is something like that called? A sports jacket?) “Yeah. I don’t think anybody could accuse you of not being stylish.” He tries to remember what all he’d stuffed in his bag that morning. It hadn’t all been tee shirts and jeans, had it? Hm. He fiddles with his hands, picking at where there’s still a bit of ochre #217 crusted under the nail. “This isn’t what you were driving on our date.”

“I usually keep this one out at the house,” James tells him. “I’m not about to shell out for a second parking space in fucking Midtown.”

Steve laughs at him, because anybody who drives a Bugatti sure as shit doesn’t have to worry about wasting a few grand on parking.

“Hey! It’s the principle of the matter,” James argues as they zip down Atlantic Avenue, headed for the interstate. “Some things are worth splurging on, some things aren’t.”

“Okay.” Steve settles back in his seat. “What’s worth splurging on, then?”

“Mm.” James pretends to think about it. “Cars to impress your new boyfriend,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “Watches. I fucking love watches. Hm … travel, art, a view, privacy,” he continues listing, unaware that Steve’s still totally stuck on the first part. “And a good meal.” He looks over, grinning. “Don’t you think?”

“Um,” Steve licks his lips, trying to calm down. “Y-yeah. Yeah I guess all of those things.” He looks back out the windshield, thoughts spinning. Should he say something? He thinks he should. No better time than when they’re stuck together in a car. There’ll be no escaping the conversation. “So … are we boyfriends?” he asks, his voice coming out much quieter than he intends. He sounds exactly as nervous as he doesn’t want James to think he is. “I mean …” He looks over, can’t read James’ expression because the guy’s half cloaked by the aviators. “Are we?”

James takes one hand off the wheel and holds it out for Steve, threading their fingers together. “I was thinking that we were,” he says, not looking away from the road. “I haven’t been seeing anyone else since I met you. I haven’t wanted to.”

Steve swallows, the butterflies (or frogs or whatever-the-fuck idiom it is that lives in his stomach) jumping around happily. “Me neither,” he says. He tries not to beam too much, tries to be smooth and cool like James is. “Ah, that’s kind of what I was hoping for. What I was hoping you wanted.” He huffs and scratches at his neck awkwardly. “I just um, guess I’ve gotten used to not putting a label on things. ‘Boyfriend’ and stuff.” He looks down. “Guys tend to disappear once you start talking like that.”

“Fuck. What sorts of losers have you been dating?” James says, and Steve is so honestly taken aback that he has to laugh at himself a little and concede the point.

“Yeah, I guess you might be right.”

“I know I’m right.”

It’s cute, how James has gentlemanly outrage for Steve’s lame ass dating life. Steve shrugs, smiling because it’s nice to feel wanted for once, instead of disposable. “S’fine. It just got disheartening after a while. I was starting to think maybe I’m one of those people who’s just meant to wind up alone. The odd one out. Ya know?”

It’s quiet, and when Steve looks over he’s surprised to find James staring at him, the aviators slipped down his nose to reveal his eyes. “Yeah,” James murmurs. “Yeah I know a little bit about being the odd one out.” On the center console, his hand gives Steve’s a squeeze. “And nobody’s meant to be alone, Honey.”

Steve’s chest constricts a little. He licks his lips and watches James watch him. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anybody with eyes as kind and as real as James’. He’s so fucking genuine that it makes Steve feel cracked open whenever James stares at him, peeled down to the raw bits underneath. “You know,” he says quietly. “I’ve never met somebody who looks at me like that.”

James’ mouth quirks. “Like what?”

“Hm. Like you know me already.” Steve turns his head with a sigh and lets his eyes slip closed while he feels the warmth of the sun coming in through the car window. “Like you can read my thoughts. Like you see something other people don’t. It’s intense.”

“... Too intense?”

“Mm mn.” Steve shakes his head. “No, actually I like it. It’s nice for a change. Makes me feel ... I dunno, almost kinda savored?”

When Steve peeks at him again, he’s treated to the sight of James, with his sunglasses pushed back up, grinning at the road. His smile is a slash of sparkling white across his handsome face, making him look too good to be true. “Somebody like you should be savored,” he tells him. “You know, I think I might keep you, Steve.”

Steve grins and turns his head to look back out the window as they drive farther and farther from the city.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Steve opens his eyes, yawning as the car pulls to a stop. “Mm.” He stretches and unhooks his seatbelt. "We there?"

“We’re here.”

From the driveway, the house isn’t much to look at. It’s almost fully concealed within the expertly done landscaping, as if the house’s existence itself is supposed to be a secret. The custom building materials visible at the front door are severe but unique, hinting at what’s inside.

“Holy f—” Steve trails in after James, eyes wide as he looks around.

“Home sweet home,” James demures, dropping Steve’s bag on the kitchen island and walking over to the fridge. There’s the tinkle of ice as he pulls things from the freezer drawer. “So what do you think? It’s nice, right?”

“Um …” Steve walks slowly through the living room, taking in the expensive house. One glance around and anybody with two braincells to rub together would be able to tell that the place was completely custom made, from the studs right on up to the roof. “Yeah. It’s really ...” he looks around. “Intimidating.”

“‘Intimidating’,” James echoes, amused. He pours something amber from a crystal decanter. “I guess that’s fair. You told me I'm intimidating, and I am the one who designed it.”

Steve goes to sit on the couch. “No, I mean it’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He looks around, considering the dark wood and poured concrete and brick, the beaten leather sofas and various oddball art pieces that somehow feel right. “Very … midcentury meets 70’s eclectic.”

James smirks and brings their drinks over, handing Steve his. “Ya know, I know you’re a snobby artist,” he teases. “So I’m not sure if you’re actually complimenting my house or poking fun at it.”

Steve grins around his cocktail straw. “Well it’s more fun if I leave you wondering.”

James sits down next to him on the couch. “Gonna keep me on my toes?”

“Oh, always.”

“By the way, that’s my version of an old fashioned,” James tells him. They clink glasses in a little toast.

“To our weekend away,” Steve says.

“To our very relaxing weekend away,” James agrees. “By the way,” he nods at Steve’s glass. “There’s a little something extra in there. Want to try and guess what it is?

“Ooh. Okay. What are the stakes?”

James waggles his eyebrows. “Oral sex?”

Steve snorts. “Okay sure. But is there really a loser in that equation?”

“Probably not.” James gives him a wink. “But there is most certainly a winner.”

Steve brings his glass up for a thoughtful sip. “Hmm … peach?” he guesses.

James smirks and sinks back further into the couch. “Nope. Close though.”

Steve tries again, sips and thinks about it. “Apricot?”

“Nope.” James is looking delighted. “One more guess. You are close.”

“Well if it’s a stone fruit …” Steve frowns. “Oh! Nectarine?”

“Ha! Yep you got it.” James looks utterly pleased as he leans over to peck a kiss to his cheek. “Smart boy. You win."

Steve flushes at the words. “You don’t seem like a very sore loser.”

“There’s no bet I’d be happier to lose.” James heaves himself up off the couch with a deep sigh. “Alright, obligatory tour time?” He holds out his hand, and Steve is back to grinning like a fool as he lets his boyfriend show him around his intimidating—but also, really damn nice—house.

“It doesn’t feel very lived in,” Steve admits, as they’re changing into their swim trunks. James leads him to the back patio where there’s a hot tub sunken into the concrete. “I thought you said you spend a lot of time here?”

“I said I spend as much time as I can here. Which isn’t as much as I’d like.” James scoots over to sit beside him. “You know we didn’t actually have to wear swimsuits. We’re hours from the city.”

“So isolated. No neighbors at all?”

“Mm mn. Not for miles.”

“Wow. It’s strange to think that places like that even exist anymore.” Steve lays his head on James’ shoulder. “After a lifetime in Brooklyn, ya know? To think that there’s that much space left in the world for just two people?” He shakes his head. “S’crazy.”

“Yeah. But I like it.” James wraps an arm around his waist, holding him close. “It’s freeing, you know? You can just be yourself out here. Don’t have to worry about what anybody will think.”

“Think of what?” Steve asks, remembering how James has said similar things about enjoying privacy in the past. “Are you not out to your family, or something?”

James laughs. “No, not that. I’ve been out to everyone I know since med school. I just meant: in general, I find the seclusion relaxing. I don’t have to worry about nosy neighbors, or being too loud.” He squeezes Steve’s side playfully. “Or walking around butt naked if I want.”

Steve giggles. He pulls away from James in the water, turning to face him with a sly look. “Well, maybe you’re right then.” He slides out of his trunks and holds them up in show before tossing them away. They land with a wet 'splat' on the concrete. “Fuck swimsuits.”

James laughs in delight and copies him, tossing his shorts in the same direction. “Yeah, fuck ‘em.” They’re both laughing as he pulls Steve back in to straddle his lap, the water bubbling around them and mostly-obscuring their nudity. “Oh, Steve,” he sighs. “I’m so glad you let me bring you out here.” He reaches up and cups his jaw. “I really want to get to know you, intimately.” His thumb traces a tender path on Steve’s cheek. “It’ll be nice. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Yeah, it really will.”

They talk for what feels like hours, flirting and sipping cocktails and trading jokes. They share their opinions on stupid topics and meaningful ones, interspersed with the few quiet moments that happen when one of them works up the nerve to tell the other about some intimate detail from their life.

Steve confesses that he'd reached a low point, after his mom's death, and that he hadn't improved until he'd sought out therapy. James receives the information with sympathy, and then keeps his eyes averted as he admits that he’s been married, once before. “It didn’t last long,” he mumbles, looking rueful about it. “Less than a year.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says gently. “What happened?”

James shakes his head sadly. “He just wasn’t the one. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things and ... he left me."

Steve bites his lip, hating how sad James looks as he talks about it. He tries to lighten the mood by recounting the story of one hilariously bad date in recent memory. It gets James laughing again, which is a relief, and they fall back into the easy banter that seems to come so naturally to them. They’re both dog people. James prefers tea to coffee. Steve is a staunch murderer of houseplants. James fancies himself a gourmet cook.

“Yeah, you still have to prove that to me,” Steve teases as they head back inside, their discarded bathing suits left behind on the patio like shed skin.

James towels Steve off and pulls him into the bed, lying over him. “Oh, I'll prove it. Gonna cook you an amazing dinner tonight.” He dips down, kissing him gently. “But first, I think there’s a wager I lost that I need to make good on.” He kisses down Steve’s throat, his chest. “You want that?”

Steve squirms and nods, blood flowing south at just the thought of James’ beautiful mouth around his dick. “Yeah. Yeah, you definitely should. Don’t want to be a sore loser.”

“Definitely not. Especially since you’re such a gracious winner,” James continues kissing his way down, taking his time, big hands splayed out over ribs, caressing him. “Love your body, honey,” he murmurs against the pale skin of his stomach. He lets his hands slide further down, thumbs swiping over hip bones. “So sweet. So delicate.”

“Christ,” Steve complains, but James doesn’t let him get away with that.

“No. I mean it, Steven. Every part of you. You hear me?”

“Yeah yeah, I—” Steve inhales sharply as he’s suddenly enveloped in the wet heat of James’ mouth, not even very hard, yet. “Oh!”

“Mmhm,” James hums around his mouthful of rapidly-hardening dick. He sucks him gently, rubbing his hands over Steve’s hips, his belly, his sensitive inner thighs. He pops off and taps Steve’s cock against the flat of his tongue. “Feel good?”

Steve nods shakily. “Y-yeah. Yeah keep going. Please.”

James smiles and kisses his belly reverently, then takes him right back into his mouth. Even as Steve hardens all the way, James can still handle a lot, not choking even when Steve’s cock hits the back of his throat. Steve moans at a particularly strong suck. “James, yes,” he whispers, sliding his fingers into James' dark hair and holding him. “Oh, god …” A hand joins in, stroking while James lavishes attention at the head. He’s gentle in how he handles him, but utterly methodical. Steve’s hips kick up once James starts playing with his balls, and he whines near-desperately when a single finger ventures back to his asshole. “Oh fuck …”

James makes a pleased noise that reverberates all the way through Steve's cock and into his balls. He presses the tip of his finger in dry, takes him all the way down to the hilt—and swallows compulsively around the head of his dick.

Steve comes with a sudden cry, clinging to James helplessly as he spurts against his tongue. "Ah ah, ahnn ..." James hums and holds him and sucks him through it, only pulling off once Steve is shivering in oversensitivity. He lays his cheek on Steve’s stomach and waits him out while he recovers. “S-sorry,” Steve pants. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Eventually Steve’s breathing calms, and he opens his eyes again. He looks down at where James is resting against his stomach, his dark hair against Steve’s pale skin, mouth red and shiny with cum. “Fuck,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

James licks his lips clean, staring up at him. “And you’re delicious.” He climbs back up his body, dick hard and insistent where it drags a wet line across Steve’s belly. “Can I fuck you, Sweetheart?” he asks, the words sweeter than they have any right to be as he dips down and kisses him with the taste of cum still on his lips. “Is that okay? or are you too sensitive?”

Steve shivers, rolling his hips up even though his dick has gone soft. “No. No, you can,” he breathes, reaching down to take hold of James' cock and give it a squeeze. It's so hot and big, and the feeling of it throbbing against his palm makes arousal flare back to life in Steve’s belly. “Just … just go slow, yeah?”

James kisses him tenderly, promising, “Of course. Always. Hang on a sec.” He stretches away for the bedside drawer, and then his weight returns. He encourages Steve to roll over onto his front, gently maneuvering a pillow under his hips. “There you go,” he praises, running a hand down the center of his back, over his ass and then the back of one thigh. “God, Steve ... You’re a fucking wet dream, you know that?”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, sure.” He pulses down against the pillow, dick spent but still enjoying the sensation. He gasps when he suddenly feels James nosing between his cheeks. “Oh! Oh fuck, are you gonna —”

“Yeah,” James breathes out against his hole and grabs handfuls of his ass. He squeezes. “Oh, Baby. This fuckin’ peach of an ass." He kisses just below Steve’s tailbone and murmurs, “You’re so small but you got the roundest little ass I ever saw. You know that, Honey?”

Steve makes a tiny sound of protest, but then in the next second James is licking right over him, lapping and sucking at his hole like he can’t get enough. Steve grunts into the sheets and screws his eyes shut, panting at how good it feels. “God, ugh, James …”

James tongues and sucks at him, pulls away with the wettest, filthiest sound possible and growls, “Just want to eat this ass up.”

Steve cries out at the sharp pinch of teeth on his ass, but that sound bleeds into a groan when James sucks hard on the spot, almost certainly securing a bruise in Steve's future. “Fuck,” Steve pants quietly, grinding down against the pillow beneath his hips. He realizes he’s getting hard again just as James starts to really tongue fuck his hole—quick, dirty little jabs that make Steve clench and twitch, desperately aware of how much more he wants to feel. “James,” he gasps, mouth gone dry. He turns his head and pants. “James, oh, please. Please, come on.” He huffs and whines and tries to reach back, and James gets the hint.

He crawls up Steve’s body and seals his chest to Steve's back, kneeing his legs apart, laying his full weight into him. He kisses the nape of Steve's neck and slowly slides his hands all the way down the length of his arms, hands covering Steve's smaller ones at the very end. Steve groans at how good it feels.

“Oh, Daddy.”

He doesn’t mean to say it. It just slips out.

James is quiet for a heartbeat, feeling Steve's back tensing beneath him. He hums smugly and starts kissing and licking at his neck. “Aw, what’s wrong?” he coos. "You embarrassed, Princess? Just cause you like Daddy’s tongue in your ass? Does that get you real worked up?” Steve whines in mortification and James snickers. He licks along the shell of his ear. “Oh yeah, that’s what it is. You’re embarrassed cause you need Daddy to put something a little bigger up there, don'tcha? You need it, and you don’t want to have to ask.”

Steve moans weakly, tears nearly coming to his eyes at how easily James just accepted it, went with it. Fuck, he’s too good to be true. “Yes,” he whispers, pushing his ass back the little bit that he can, with James’ big body weighing him down. “Yeah Daddy, please.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay Baby,” James exhales shakily, as if this is getting to him just as much. “Anything you want, you know that? You can have it.” He kisses Steve’s shoulder and lubes up his fingers, dragging them right over Steve’s hole. “Relax for me, Honey. Just let me make you feel good.”

He presses in with two, slowly, and Steve gasps at the sudden pressure and the stretch. “Oh,” he pants quietly against the sheets, “Oh f-fuck ..."

“Okay?” James asks. He hooks his fingers and gives a slow drag out. “Hm?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. His eyes are closed and his brow furrowed as he focuses on the feeling. “Fuck, yeah. It’s–it's good ... oh…”

James pushes back in. He starts up a slow but steady rhythm, fucking him softly on two fingers until Steve’s pressing back into it eagerly, ready enough for another. “Fuck, Honey,” he groans when Steve is clenching and moaning on three of his fingers, wet and loose and pushing back into it, crying out when he gets at his prostate just right. “You ready for my cock, baby?” James asks, already pulling his fingers out.

“Yeah,” Steve says, nodding eagerly and squirming. “Yeah. Condom?”

James hums and rolls his hips, sliding his dick through the slicked up valley of Steve’s ass. “I got tested,” he murmurs. “Don’t need one.”

“What? But—”

James hushes him with a kiss to his shoulder. “We don’t need one,” he whispers, reassuring him. “It’s fine.”

Steve whines, trying to think past the haze of his lust. “Yeah but I … I don’t think—”

James has propped himself up on one arm and is holding his dick with the other, guiding it where he wants it, rubbing the head against Steve’s hole. His knees spread Steve's legs wider, and Steve whimpers,

“Oh, w-wait,”

“Shhh.” James presses harder. His cock slips inside. “Theere we go.”

Steve’s breath catches at the feeling. “Fuck, oh …”

“Beautiful.” James falls back over him, body heavy and warm, cock sliding in in in, until his hips meet Steve's ass. "Oohyeah." He grinds into him and kisses his shoulder. “You’re okay,” he soothes, hips rocking just the barest bit, his cock huge and unrelenting where it's fully seated. “S'that good? Tell Daddy how it feels."

Steve whimpers and nods tightly, because it does feel good. It feels amazing. He loves this part, always has; the first few, overwhelming seconds of being penetrated, being taken. It’s so full, so much pressure inside that he can hardly stand it. “Y-yeah,” he says shakily, thinking about the condom, how James is bare up inside him right now. “S’big. Oh, fuck, James …”

“Yeah,” James says, moving against him in another, dirty grind. Then he seeks out Steve’s mouth and kisses him as he starts to fuck him softly.

And Steve kisses back, accepting the slide of James’ tongue and the hot push of his cock as the pleasure mounts. His cock throbs against the pillow and his insides begin to coil tighter and tighter, wanting more. He tries to fuck back harder, tries to wedge a hand underneath of himself, but James catches him in against his body and rolls them over, Steve still held captive against his chest. He hooks a heel over Steve's shin, curls a hand at the base of his neck. His other hand slides down his belly, bumping his cock but not reaching to take him in hand. He just holds him still while he keeps rolling his hips, fucking up into him languidly.

It’s frustratingly slow but it’s at the right angle. In fact it’s at such a fucking perfect angle, and the feeling of being trapped so thoroughly against James' body is so nice, that Steve starts to get close anyway. He cries out and begs, telling James how good it is, babbling at him, begging him for just a touch, just a little more. “I’m gonna cum, please. Ohgod, ohmygod ...” He reaches for himself, cries out loudly when James knocks his hand away, denying him with a breathy,

“Wait.”

“Please!” Steve hiccups, voice small and thready. He’s so close.

“You feel perfect, Steve,” James whispers, kissing the side of his head. “Feels so fucking good for me, inside of your body. D’you know that?” He rolls his hips deep and stays buried up in him, finally wraps his hand around Steve’s cock.

Steve sobs and thrashes against him. “Oh, please! Uhn, ah ah—”

“You beg so pretty, Honey.” James holds him tighter at the neck and strokes him off—so tight and slow. It’s so good, so close but not enough ...

“I–I need,” Steve gasps,

“Shshsh, I know, I know. You’re so close, aren’t you Baby?” James is hardly thrusting now, just grinding his cock inside Steve while he jerks him off. “So close,” he whispers. “You can almost taste it.” He flicks his tongue over the shell of Steve’s ear and Steve sobs.

He nods against the hand on his neck, relishing the way that he’s being held so tight, controlled so completely, coaxing words whispered right into his skin, working him closer and closer to the edge. Fuck, there really are tears in his eyes now. “P-please,” he begs wetly. “Oh.”

“It’s okay,” James coos, squeezing his cock even harder and going faster, knuckling under the head on every stroke. It’s enough, finally. Oh. “Let me feel you now, Honey. Right on my dick. Let Daddy feel it happen.”

It's that knuckle under the head that does it; that, and Bucky's voice purring reassuring filth in his ear. Steve grunts as his orgasm breaks inside, that high tide of pleasure finally tipping over and crashing so good that it hurts. “Oh, god, ohfuck ...” He seizes in James’ hold, voice sticking in his throat as he goes silent and shoots off hard, pulsing and pulsing with it. So fucking good.

James groans and curses beneath him. He wraps both of his huge arms around Steve’s middle and holds him like a sex doll while he ruts into him, chasing his own climax until he’s coming, too. He fucks him through it, until his cum is slipping back out around his slowing thrusts and his softening dick, their bodies messy and wet. “Fuck,” he pants hotly against the back of Steve’s neck. “Steve.”

Steve whines at the feeling when James pulls out, the rest of his cum following a second later. “Oh god. Ugh.”

James chuckles and moves him on the bed. He lies over him, one leg thrown over Steve’s and a hand cradling his face. "C'mere, you."

They kiss, long and slow, lips dragging softly together. James hums and speaks without pulling away. “Well, that was amazing.”

“Yeah.”

He sighs and rolls onto his back. “Come here. Put your head on my chest. Lemme hold you.”

Steve obeys, turning into James and wrapping an arm over his middle, while he thinks about the cum he can still feel leaking out of his ass.

He’d tried to stop it, had felt wrong going bare when they hadn’t talked it over first. He bites his lip, unsure how to say anything now without ruining the afterglow. Maybe he can’t.

“I love making love to you, Steve,” James says quietly, tracing fingertips along his spine. “You’re so beautiful. Perfect.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs back, smiling a little because he’s just been fucked probably better than he ever has in his whole entire life.

... Even if James did ignore him about the condom, it was still fucking amazing.

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[mrs-apocalypse]

Hi! How are you? I hope you’re doing okay!

I have a few questions about your game theory series! 🥳 First of all, it’s the first fic i’ve read in months because i kinda stopped reading after awhile since I couldn’t find anything that caught my eye as a reader, some fics started to feel the same to me 😭 I saw yours on twitter and I thought it was really interesting. and it didn’t disappoint!! 🤩

My questions are: Are you following the series’ plotline or book? Or are you creating your own universe(?)/plotline? I mean will you include the events in the series and the book in the future? Safehouse, torture, coup etc? I feel like your story is different than any of I have read so far that is why I wanted to ask😭 Very unique plot! I have to admit I never thought Pete became Pete since neither the book or the series mentions it. He was the main bodyguard and Tankhun’s and Kinn’s most trusted bodyguard, but how did this happen? 🤔 So your story is really refreshing!

Second question: I know many authors might not know the ending of the story they write since it comes as you write, but will it be happy ending or sad ending? 😭 May I ask you could you tag if there’s a mcd before it happens🥹 Third question: will we be seeing Vegas and Macau in the second book again? I think we’re getting closer to ending right?

Third question: how did you start to write this story? Was it something that came to your mind and started writing? Or was it something more planned?

Last question: what will the last book’s name be? And what would you say about the theme of the book? Is it more angsty?

I am sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language. So I have to think in my own language and translate it as I write🥲

And I hope I am not too annoying. Please feel free to tell me if I am. And please skip the questions you don’t feel comfortable.

Have a nice day 🥰

Hi there! Wow, thank you so much for your question! I'm so so glad you've enjoyed my story. It makes me so happy that you like it so much! Also, please do not apologize for your English skills. I think your English sounds great and even if it wasn't, it's still impressive to speak in a second language!

As for your questions:

Question One: I plan to follow canon nearly 90%. I did my best to make Prisoner's Dilemma a prequel that would make logical sense with the canon story, so that is what I want to continue in the next book (Trolley Problem). That said, I will be adding some things. As much as I adore Kinnporsche, I think VegasPete's storyline would have done better with some expansion. For example, I think that the safehouse arc would have been perfect if there had been just one or two more scenes, or if the time Pete spent at the safehouse were just a few days more. So, while the story will mainly follow canon, I'll be taking some liberties on what 'happened' during the time we didn't see in the show!

Question Two: I know exactly how this story will end! I always know how my stories will end before I write them and I also never like to write a sad ending. To me, angst is the most fun to write, but only if there's a worthwhile ending to reach. It will be happy, and what I think is an appropriate ending for the all characters in the show (if you look back on my profile, you'll see that I think certain endings from canon aren't appropriate 'happy' endings for characters). But I think what I've planned will be pleasing to everyone!

Question Three: Second book is finished as of today, and it ends with a nice little scene between our favorite brothers. To be honest, any scene with Macau is my favorite to write (that's VegasPete's first son!).

Question Four: So, there's lots of reasons I came up with this story. First, I love Pete dearly, but there is so little known about him and the more I know, the more I just don't think he fits with the main family. And so to me the most logical conclusions was that he would have had to learn in a harsher environment (sans his father). I also love reading fics with Vegas being obsessed with Pete, but I do't see that logically happening unless there was some grand event that put them together, and so I was like 'what if Pete worked for him first?' Just. UGH, I think that a lot about their personalities and obsessions with each other can be explained much better with a backstory like this!

Question Five: The last book will be called 'Dictator's Game', which I think says a lot about what the contents is. The theme is basically 'What really happened between Korn, Nampheung, and Gun?" and how that affects the boys in modern time. Aka, Theerapanyakul War 2.0. There will be angst, but universally. And VegasPete will not have any extreme fights between them because I wanna focus on them being the sanest couple in the bunch.

Please let me know if you have any more questions! I love love LOVE getting to talk about my fic and also just VegasPete/Kinnporsche stuff in general!